Omegaverse Lovers United

A community on discord for everyone who loves omegaverse (alpha/beta/omega).

[omegaverseloversunite]

Omegaverse Lovers Unite is a multifandom discord server for everyone who loves A/B/O and Omegaverse trope.

This is a safe, consensual, and fun community for readers, artist, and writers of the trope. We work together to make the community how we all want it.

We do weekly events, such as

Tutorial Tuesday where you share a tutorial or similar things that has helped you with your writing, artwork, or even commenting. Anything like that is good!

WIP Wednesday where writers share a snippet of a fic they are working on or an artist shares a piece of artwork they are working on. This is all, of course, sans bangs, fests, exchanges and so forth since those must be completed before posting.

Throwback Thursday where you share an old piece you posted, such as an fanfic, fanart, or similar piece.

Non-Omegaverse (A/B/O)—

We do have a non-omegaverse section as well since not everyone writers or makes art for the trope who enjoys the trope.

Please make sure to click the link below to join:

Check out the Omegaverse Lovers Unite community on Discord - hang out with 48 other members and enjoy free voice and text chat.

Read the #welcome-rules and accept by clicking the ✅, (To read these prior to joining the server, please see bottom of post for link to post. Thank you!)

Select your roles in #roles,

And then, #introduce yourself (there is a pinned template for your convenience).

If you have any questions or concerns, please leave them in the #ideas-and-feedback channel.

Also, check out the #server-announcements (pinned too) to know what’s going on.

I look forward to seeing more of you there! ❤️

Also, if you would please signal boost to share with the many fandom communities, I would be ever so thankful. 😌

Welcome-rules

https://www.tumblr.com/omegaverseloversunite/763373787360133121/rules

[sheepispink]

Ghost rushing into the room programmer!reader is when they suddenly squeal, immediately coming to stand next to them.

“Did you finish it?” He asks, knowing that the information you can extract with this new program is extremely valuable for the operation although the slow process.

“Nope!” You reply, though still grinning ear to ear, making him raise a brow at you.

“Why the hell are you happy then?”

“Oh— the error code changed so i must be doing something right.” He stares at you as you give him a loopy grin, before going back to your clicking again. Sometimes he wonders if you’re even qualified for this or you hacked your way into being hired.

[rawme-price]

Thinking about alpha!ghost who never really learned to control his scent, and reader who's nose doesn't work right after an injury.

Which, of course, means you and ghost get along well.

You don't really understand why people tend to avoid ghost, probably something to do with the scents you'll never be able to pick up. Kyle says he just smells 'aggressive'. People give him space in response to social cues you don't recognize.

"Oh! Hi, simon!" You perk up when ghost finds you in the recroom. You scoot over so he can sit next to you, and tilt your head up so he can rub his wrist into your neck. "How was the briefing? Anything interesting?"

You pointedly ignore the looks people throw ghost. You're aware he can't control his scent, something many people love to complain about. Sure, it's probably rude to be broadcasting 'fuck off' constantly, but you don't think it warrants the grimaces and people leaving a room because of him.

You never stopped to consider he was smelling like anything other than aggressive until price pulled you aside.

"Look, kid, I know it doesn't bother you," price rubs a hand over his face, looking oddly uncomfortable "but you need to stop encouraging ghost. It's inappropriate."

"What?" You ask, genuinely confused. "What am I encouraging?? I'm not allowed to be friends with him??"

"No, you're not allowed to get him going." Price huffs. He narrows his eyes at you, silent for a moment, before letting out a pained sigh "bloody hell, kid. You do know he's been courting you, right?"

"...what." no fucking way.

"Yes. And he reeks of horny alpha all. The. Damn. Time." Price looks at you pointedly, as if this is your fault "it's not exactly pleasant for everyone else on base."

"Oh...oh gosh." You bury your face in your hands, replaying all the times you glared back at people, assuming they were just being mean. "Oh my god."

Price just stands, leads you back out of his office "i think you and ghost should have a chat."

"Yeah...yeah we should." You agree.

...you should probably take him somewhere off base before that chat. Yknow, to spare the others ghosts scent when you accept his courting.

[other-fandoms-reblogs]

Reckless Omega

|| Simon “Ghost” Riley X Omega Reader ||

WC: 2190

Rating: Mature

Working with your alpha can be amazing and terrible, especially in the military and as an American.

Right now? You can’t decide if you want to kill Ghost or fuck him.

You’re staring across the 141 rec room watching him enjoy his tea as he reads. You know he knows you’re staring at him. He’s ignoring you.

He’s actually upset at you. You think it’s stupid.

Being your Alpha on Record means the military requires you two to live together to ensure proper alpha-omega balance. While you don’t mind, it’s nice to have your own space. Every time you head into your shared room, he follows you. He stands in the doorway in his sexy, mysterious skull balaclava, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, and watching you. You can feel it and it drives you up the wall.

Since getting back from a successful but exciting mission, you two haven’t even had sex. It’s making your skin crawl.

You walk over to him, pouting lips, arms crossed, and quietly growling at him. “This is stupid, sir.” He ignores you. You sigh exasperatedly. “It was necessary.” He glances a glare at you before silently returning to his book. You stand there before your frustration gets the better of you.

Grabbing his book out of his gloved hands, you rip it in half and throw it on the ground, stomping on it. “GODDAMN IT! TALK TO ME!”

He finishes his tea, gets up, sets it on the sink in the kitchenette, and silently walks away from you towards your room.

You're getting more and more tempted to kill him. Not that you’d actually succeed but it’d be better than this.

At this point you’d rather he spank you and fuck you, not letting your come for a week or more than his cold shoulder and silence. Face fallen, you look at his book on the floor and pick it up.

Ghost thinks you took unnecessary risks during the operation and he’s angry at you. Price already disciplined you and made you do double the work training with four sets of recruits for the last two weeks.

You’re miserable.

You plop down on the thin carpeted cement floor and stare at his book. You’ve been destroying his stuff when he won’t respond to you, having self-control issues, and you know it.

It’s only been three days since he’s been doing this. It’s the weekend, thankfully.

You feel so jittery, your skin is tight, and your brain is going a mile a minute. You can’t focus. Your brain is a TV or radio with the remote control or knob broken and keeps flipping channels. Your usual medicine isn’t helping.

Growling, you stomp out of there and just run. You run and run and run, ending up running around the entire base. You keep running until you feel sick. You lean against the closest building, panting heavily. Your mind is clear for only moments until you’re leaning against a brick wall

Slowly, you slide down the rough-hewn wall, not caring if your T-shirt rips, and the roughness is a welcome distraction. The scraping against your lower back settles you further, sharp scrapes here and there before sitting on the ground.

You get it. You do. The problem is you disobeyed a direct order from Ghost to get on the helicopter. The problem is you did get on the helicopter but you didn’t remain on it. You didn’t actually disobey his order, but it is an understood part of the command to remain. You agree that’s true, but your alpha was in trouble.

The instinct to protect couldn’t be ignored. You tried. You could smell him on each shift. It was too much.

Ghost was already having to fight his way through hostiles to the helicopter. He wasn’t going to be able to handle another set of the same size but you could. So, you jumped off the helicopter and took them out.

The order you actually disobeyed was Captain Price commanding you to return to the helicopter, which you didn’t. You took on the group of hostiles and only had like three left when Ghost showed up all bitter-smelling of a pissed-off alpha.

You thought he’d discipline you as an alpha would but he didn’t. You realize that isn’t his style. He thinks all the shit with how alphas and omegas should act is bullshit. One of the reasons you became interested in him other than being The Ghost.

He didn’t even discipline you as your CO either. When Price did, you were confused but accepted your punishment.

And now you’re here, sitting against some random brick building on base wanting to cry. Leaning forward, you reach into your back pocket to find it empty.

Oh shit! I left my phone. Fuck!

You whine and smack your head once against the brick. You keep fucking up.

That’s the last straw.

Tears burn into your eyes as they well up and fall down your cheeks. “What is wrong with me?” You quietly whimper and pout. Ghost is gonna be upset he can’t reach you, let alone find you. The two of you share each other’s phone GPS’. He’s gonna think you’re fucking angry or something and you’re not.

“I was scared, okay?” You said aloud to no one. “I was scared I’d lose you so I acted on instinct to protect my alpha, my heart, my…my…whatever the fuck you are….GOD! Instead of trusting you could handle yourself.” You grunt and continue, “I know you can fight and handle yourself and adapt on the fly. I know this. I trust your skills. I trust you. I couldn’t stop. Why am I being punished for my instincts?”

Digging the heels of your palms into your eyes, you silently cry. You don’t know how to fix this.

How can he not be miserable?

You lie down on your side, keeping your back against the brick wall.

“Why do you have to be silent? Why can’t you just yell at me? Fucking punishment me as alphas do. Something. Anything to show—.” You hiccuped and sniffled. “Anything to show you still want me,” you whisper, fingers reaching up to your throat to the dark green collar on your neck with a skull-shaped tag. “Maybe he doesn’t know how to tell me he doesn’t want me anymore.”

Your mind dwells on how he doesn’t come to bed with you. You’re in bed and fall asleep without him and wake without him. You know he’s slept there since his smell hardly ever fades.

Does he hold me? Does he kiss my hair? Do I turn into him and nuzzle against his chest like when we cuddle?

I miss him. I miss my alpha.

You lay there ruminating, slow tears falling down your face. Not caring if your bitter scent becomes too much for others. You haven’t seen anyone so maybe there aren’t any.

Zone out, lost in thought, and still lying on the ground.

“There!” Yells a familiar voice. It shakes you out of your mind. Slowly you sit up and look around. A Humvee drives over the grounds towards you. You stand up, dusting yourself off. As the vehicle comes closer you see Soap and Ghost. You groan with a roll of your eyes, wiping the tears off your face.

You’re not in the mood for the drama and pissed-off alphas. You’re too emotionally exhausted.

Seeing Ghost jump out of the Humvee, you do the only thing you can think of—your high school omega teacher would be proud--and get down on your knees. Keeping your eyes downcast and palms up on your thighs, waiting for the alpha.

You don’t care what happens next. Maybe he’ll yell and break up with you. Maybe he’ll beat you like society says an alpha should, for disobeying and being a disrespectful omega. Maybe he’ll just yank the collar off and walk away, finality.

Tears burn your eyes, so you close them trying to make them not fall. Taking two deep breaths before he stands in front of you, panting and bitter-smelling.

Your brow furrows in thought. Angry alpha. Angry at me. Disappointed in me and my actions. Disrespectful omega. Bad omega. My omega teacher was right about that too.

Impulsive. Unfocused. Highly emotional. Can’t control instincts. True submissive to an alpha unattainable.

The alpha gets down on one knee searching your face. He cups your face but you’re too lost in your head to realize he is speaking to you.

He calls your name louder and louder until you flinch the third time, immediately looking up at him. “I’m sorry, alpha. I’m sorry. Wha—what did you say?”

He pulls his balaclava up over his nose before coming forward and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. Your eyes are wide as your lips tingle. Resting his forehead against yours, he repeats his words, “I said, dove. Did ya mean t’leave yer phone? Yer hidin’ from me?”

Pulling away, you vigorously shake your head. “No, alpha. I didn’t realize I forgot it until I was out here. I’m sorry, sir.”

His face scrunches up. “Why ya actin’ vis weh?”

“What do ya mean? What way?“ You question.

He quirks a challenging brow. The one you secretly like that he does when you push him when it’s just you two, usually in the bedroom. He waves his hand at your whole form. “Vis. Wha’s vis?”

“I—I—.” You looked down and shrugged. “Seemed the thing to do,” you offered.

“Why? Wha’s goin’ on in yer ‘ead?” He cups your face, making your eyes meet. “Eh?”

You shrug deeply, looking away from his eyes.

“Talk t’me, luv. I know I been a right bastard t’ya but I—I—I can’t do this. This ain’t me,” he admitted.

Hear his words, your mouth drops open and a tear falls. He wipes it away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, swee’ear’.”

You pull away, brow furrowed, nose wrinkled, and frowning. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who fucked up, not you.”

He sighs heavily. “Luv, ya ain’ ve only one who messed up.”

Your face softened a little as you quirked a brow. He chuckles.

“So, we…aren’t breaking up?” You queried, face all scrunched up with worry. He looks at you as if you have two heads. “Why’d we do vat? Do ya wanna—?”

“No,” you interrupt, rapidly shaking your head.

The two of you stare into each other’s eyes.

You break. “I miss you.” Tears fall as you continue your admission, “I was scared, okay?” Ghost squints his eyes at your words. “It was instinct to leap before thinking it through. I saw the other hostiles coming towards you and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I had to protect you, Simon.” You pause a second or two before adding, “You’re my alpha. My—my—.” Fear of the next words you wanted to say but knowing your need to tell him. You look down at the concrete, unable to look him in the eye. “My heart,” you whisperingly confess. “You’re…my everything, baby. If I lost you…I’d lose myself too.” Tears fell freely down your face. You glance up, his eyes seem almost stoic. “I can’t.”

“Va’s all I wanted t’know, bird,” he reminded. You, looked into his eyes. “What?”

“I asked ya why you did somevin’ so stupid on vee heli and all ya said was vair were more ‘ostiles comin’ at ya.” He waited a few seconds. When you didn’t respond; he added, “Ya can’t lie t’me, luv. Ya were hidin’ sumvin’. Ah knee.” Your eyes widened at his words. Your mouth opened before closing, pursing your lips. “I didn’t mean to. It’s hard,” you offered.

“It can be but ya still need t’tell me,” Simon counteroffered. You felt your cheeks warm at the thought of saying that in front of the team. “In front of the team?” Your shoulders rose and your voice broke at the question.

“If need be.” You wrinkled your nose at his words and thought of an alternative. “How about a code word?” He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side.

“Something we can say in front of people when we need to talk away from them or later,” you recommended.

He slowly nodded. “Okay. ‘Ave a word in mind?”

You shook your head before saying, “Banana?”

“Banana?” He repeated.

“It’s like a safeword. Something we wouldn’t normally say is regular conversation,” you defined. He hummed. “Let me vink about it.”

He slowly stood up, now looking down at you, and held his gloved hand out. You took it and slowly raised it with a hiss. “Concrete sucks.”

“I vink it’s hard.” You could see his eyes showing he was smirking under that mask. You roll your eyes with a wince.

While you’re hoping he’s up for sex when you get back to the barracks, your ass is probably gonna get turned bright red before any actually fucking happens. While that’s gonna suck but you love, and Simon likes to leave bruises so you remember it when you sit down, you usually do get awesome sex afterwards.

Wonder if he’d be up to tie me up?

Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader Subscribers:

@vitalliver @141bean @Abby—-Wright @maria300806 @bunnysdaydreams @gracefulackerman @laurence-simps-for-ghost

[kormeister]

omegaverse ghoap I love you...

another ko-fi comm!!

Support Kor

Support Kor

[slater-baby]

Johnny who sucks on your tits so much they start producing milk :(

And of course, when his precious girl needs her breasts pumped, he’s already standing in the doorway with a tent in his jeans and saliva on his lips :/

[omegaverseloversunite]

This sounds like something that would happen in an A/B/O -verse

[slater-baby]

Stargazing

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Word count: 2,717

Tags: ABO dynamics, Alpha Simon "Ghost" Riley, Heat Rut Cycles, Implied sexual content, one night stands, banter and flirting, fluff, meet cute, strangers to lovers

There was very little in life that could make Simon Riley nervous. He’d gone through hell and back, escaped his own coffin. And for that, he’d never let himself be consumed by something so meaningless ever again. But now that he’s standing here, peering at the light leaking from the edges of the doorway, suddenly there’s butterflies in his stomach.

His hair stands on edge at the mere thought of you. You were an unforeseen development in his life, but one that he was strangely happy about. He’d known of you for quite some time, but because of the barriers between Alphas and Omegas in the workplace, he’d never had the chance to realize how delightful you really were. 

Even now, he can’t help the swell of emotion that fills his chest when he thinks back to your first conversation.

---

The 141 was in between missions, and for now, there was little more to do than laze around base and shoot the shit. He’d been up late drinking and playing cards with Soap and Gaz. Maybe it was the alcohol that loosened him up, or the laughter that lingered in his head, but he’d felt strangely light, like he had nothing to lose (for once). It wasn’t an emotion that struck him often, and he figured he’d enjoy it while it lasted. With a few lighthearted goodbyes, he shuffled towards the exit to the common room, itching for a breath of fresh air and a cigarette. 

He hit the lock-release on the door, shivering slightly as the cold, autumn air washed over him, gravel crunching beneath his boots. He peered up curiously at the stars. Now, with most of the base down for the count, the darkness had had time to settle. Normally, it was an endless cacophony of strange voices and strange scents. Simon preferred it like this. He settled against the concrete wall off to the side of the door, digging through his pockets for a carton of cigarettes.

While his fingers continued to fumble, he caught the darkened silhouette of another person leaning against the side of the building. He was too far away to catch a scent yet, but he could tell they weren’t someone he recognized.

“Shit…” he mumbled to himself when he shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. His hands turn up empty. Must’ve left my lighter with Johnny.

“Fuck,” he mumbles one more time with a sigh. His gaze dropped towards the gravel with disappointment before he remembered the figure to his left. Clearing his throat, he takes a few awkward steps towards them, shoving his hands in his pockets as he goes.

And that’s when it hits him: the sweetest thing he’d smelled in years.

An Omega.

Even through the mask, it’s suffocating. It was sugary and light, like fresh baked cookies. It goes without saying that’s not a scent Simon’s had the pleasure of enjoying much since he joined the military. Most days, he’s stuck with Soap’s overbearing, woodsy smell, or Price’s familiar but overwhelming musk. But since he donned the camouflage, he’d found none so appealing…none so pleasant. 

A single inhale has that instinctual, inescapable heat curling in his stomach. It was a nice change of pace.

He cleared his throat, alerting your striking eyes to his presence. He senses your wariness in the way you study his mask, and in the way your body tenses at the sudden noise. He holds out the carton of cigarettes as a peace offering.

“You got a lighter, mate? Forgot mine back in the common room.” 

He curses himself for calling you ‘mate’...though, he can’t deny the double meaning thrills him. You seem to take it in the way that it’s intended, though, still warily eyeing his mask when you pull one out of your pants pockets. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, pulling up his mask to stick a cigarette between his lips.

Wordlessly, you flick the flame to life, holding it up in front of his face. As he leans into the flame, you finally manage a timid look at his eyes, and it takes everything within him not to start posturing the minute a new wave of your scent washes over him.

He blows the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, taking care not to get it in your eyes. You turn away once the flame is extinguished, and the scarcely broken quiet falls back once again. Although, Simon secretly wishes it hadn’t. His baser instincts can already feel the tension in the air, and it feels as though every part of his body is humming in anticipation, waiting for the silence to be shattered. On the surface, however, he just stares blankly up at the stars, minding his own business.

Simon was never a man of many words. But as the chain of events would have it, he couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth once again.

“No offense, but what’s an Omega doing out here so late?” he begins, “Gettin’ a little close to the Alpha barracks, love. Little dangerous, innit?”

It was a wholehearted concern, if not a bit brash. Simon’s been around Alphas his whole life--hell, his entire squad are Alphas--so he knows what they’re like, what they’re capable of. Himself included. You don’t seem to take his warning so seriously, though. Instead, you manage a small, cheerful laugh.

“Well, aren’t you a little close to the Omega barracks?” you clap back.

The smoke in his mouth makes waves in the air when he lets out a small sound. He holds up his hands in fake surrender.

“Guess you’re right,” he acquiesces, continuing to puff on his cigarette.

He doesn’t even have to look in your direction to know you’re staring at him. Unconsciously, he preens under your gaze, standing just a little taller than he normally would have had anyone else been looking at him. Standing here, under the stars, on a completely mundane night…it’s almost comical of him to say it’s the first time he wonders if someone else likes the way he smells. What did his scent smell like, anyway? He hopes it’s passable.

Yet, by the way your eyes remain glued to him, perhaps the thought isn’t in vain.

“If you want to ask about it, just say so,” he says, more to the silence than to your face.

Out of his peripheral vision, he sees you pull your sleeves over your hands with a subdued smile, you clear your throat.

“What’s with the mask? I mean, normally an Alpha corners you in the middle of the night, he’s just a regular creep, but you…” you trail off, barely containing a self-satisfied grin.

“You call this cornering?” he asks jokingly, gesturing to the ample space between the two of you.

“Is it not?”

“Well, call you what you like, love,” he takes a drag, “if you wanna leg it, I’ll give you a headstart.”

That earns him a small giggle. It’s one that stays in his head long after, reminding him of that sweetness he found in your scent. 

“I think it counts,” your voice rings from beside him.

He scoffs once more, but this time, he can’t contain the slight grin of his lips.

“So, by that measure, I’m below ‘regular creep,’ then…is what you’re saying?”

“I mean,” you quirk a brow and twirl a pointed finger towards his mask, “you’re not doing yourself any favors with that get up. Please tell me you have a good reason to walk around looking like that.”

Ghost might have been offended if he wasn’t hanging off of your every word. He clears his throat instead, hanging onto his cigarette with his teeth as he turns towards you fully. His baser instincts are singing at your undivided attention, and somehow he has the nagging urge to look you over, to size you up. However, now that he’s got a good look at you, his stomach lurches at the height difference. 

God, you were barely at his shoulders. The Alpha part of him howls in satisfaction.

“Why don’t you take a guess?” he teases, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You hum to yourself, pretending to think about it. He doesn’t miss the way you surreptitiously step closer, slowly shrinking the space left between the two of you now. 

“Cat burglar.”

“That’s your first guess?”

“What? They’ve been known to look like that.”

“What’s your source?” 

“Home Alone,” you blurt without a second thought, but your grin drops when he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. 

“Nah. Those blokes were robbers, not cat burglars.”

“What’s the difference?”

He takes a deep breath of smoke, “Something they didn’t put in Home Alone, I’ll tell you that.” 

That elicits a stiff chuckle from you, and Ghost silently cheers at his own success. You go back to the drawing board. You give him a comical once over, head to toe, and Ghost is tempted to do a spin for you just to hear that laugh another time. He doubts he could handle the heat of your eyes any longer than this, though. His chest feels tight already. But before he gets lost in his own daydream, you start once again. 

“Spetsnaz,” you guess.

“Wrong. I kill Spetsnaz. Try again.”

“Hash Slinging Slasher.”

He hangs onto a lungful of smoke, furrowing his brow.

“The <em>what?”</em>

“The Hash Slinging Slasher,” you say again, like he’d have a better chance of understanding you, “Y’know, guy with the spatula…tried to kill Spongebob.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Ah, that’s right, I forgot you Brits don’t watch <em>real</em> television over here.”

He bites the filter on his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He turns to you with a challenging shrug of his shoulders. You inhale, your scent spiking with it, but Ghost just pretends not to notice as he tamps the pack again.

“Rip-off Ghostface,” you posit, already reaching for your lighter once again.

“Why do you say that?” he says, cigarette between his teeth, while he leans into the flame.

This close, Ghost can see the way your eyelashes splay over your cheeks, and he makes a point of staying put long after the cig had already been lit, just to study the way your tiny hands cup the flame to shield it from the wind. When he straightens up, he sticks his hands in his pockets, pretending he doesn’t see you inching closer to his side.

“You’re really asking <em>me</em> that?” you counter.

“It’s a genuine question,” he exhales.

“I figured <em>you</em> would know why. You basically stole the guy’s uniform.”

He shakes his head condescendingly, “M’offended you would think so lowly of me. My outfit is completely original.”

That earns him another precious giggle. God, he can’t imagine what he looks like right now. If Price saw him out here, leaning over some young Omega, smoking through his entire pack just to keep himself from fidgeting, Ghost is sure he’d slap him upside the head. What’s worse, though, is he’s sure he reeks of pheromones right now. The captain would be liable to kick him out on fraternization just for that. 

He tries to hold your eye, but your gaze remains downturned, studying the way your shoes scuff against the gravel. He focuses on how your fingers curl into your sleeves instead.

“Well, I’m out of guesses, then.”

“A shame,” he murmurs, “It was just getting interesting.”

He watches the muscles in your cheeks twitch at that, but he doesn’t have the bravery to push it any further. He was treading in deep waters as it was. It was better to be cautious than to risk getting caught in the undertow.

“Well, I mean…” you start, prompting Ghost to look in your direction, but once again, you trail off. After a beat of silence, he raises his brows beneath his mask.

“What?” “No,” you rub your hands over your biceps with a shake of your head, “That one’s a little too mean.”

He scoffs.

“Don’t think I can handle it?”

“No, I’d just feel bad if it was true,” you justify.

He takes a final drag, flicking the cig into the plains of gravel. 

“You think I wear it ‘cause I’m ugly,” he tries. Your scent spoils at that, and you only hug yourself tighter. <em>Deadeye.</em>

“Well…are you?” you ask curiously, not meeting his gaze. You suddenly sound much more serious than you did a second ago.

Ghost straightens his back as he takes a step closer. He plants himself close enough to feel the heat radiating off of your body, before he leans a hand on the wall above your head. You’re so close you’re practically sharing air.

“Quite the opposite,” he drawls.

If he wasn’t already slightly drunk from the drinks earlier, he might have thought your scent was entirely to blame for his loose lips. You can’t seem to help yourself either.

“Can you prove it?” you whisper.

“Come back to my room and maybe you’ll find out.”

---

The memory of it sparks something low in his stomach. He presses his hand to the breadth of the door. He remembers the taste of you on his tongue, has savored it every night since. It’s been days since then, but the two of you have hardly left the bed for more than food or water. Even now, on the way back from the showers, Simon feels cold without your body curled into his side, your mouth laving over the gland on his neck.

Gently, the door creaks open under his fingers, and the sight that greets him makes him growl with some stupid, instinctual pride. Your birth control would keep you from getting pregnant, but still, he’s bred you well. Your stained panties are evidence enough of that.

The sheets are a mess, strewn all over the place, and nearly dragging on the floor. This was his fault, admittedly. It’d been a while since he’d had an Omega beneath him, and by the time he’d opened you up on his tongue, it was too late to stop the rut even if he’d tried. Needless to say, when you went into heat, the only logical thing to do was tear apart his closet to make a makeshift nest.

Now that his head’s a little clearer, it looks almost silly, how the swathes of camouflage and training clothes swallow you up. They cover the bed, and if it were under any other circumstances, Simon doubts he could stand to sleep using his own fatigues as a blanket. But then he hears your contented sigh, and suddenly, his ratty t-shirts feel like Egyptian cotton. 

He lets the towel around his waist drop to the floor. Gingerly, he steps closer, unabashed in his nakedness. The closer he gets, the better he can pick up your scent, and, God, after days spent between the sheets, taking it every time he wanted to give it, you smell more like him now than that sweet, sugary smell.

At that, his chest puffs with pride, and he can barely manage to keep his hands to himself for a second longer. He trails his fingers up the side of your bare thigh, up to the hem of the t-shirt he’d leant you. You stir awake at the feeling, leaning into his palm when he takes a handful of your breast, smoothing over your hard nipples.

“Love,” he whispers as he slides into place beside you. Happily, you tuck your face into his neck, pressing a warm kiss to his mating gland while he continues to grab handfuls of your bitten flesh.

“Alpha,” you answer back. You’ve been in his bed long enough to know what that word does to him by now. 

“You think you can take it one more time?” he whispers, and you gasp when he presses his naked hips into you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

Wordlessly, you turn onto your stomach, presenting yourself for him. It was a sight he was getting used to, but not one that he’d ever tire of. As he lines himself back up, he can’t help but lose himself in that feeling once again, seeing stars behind his closed eyes every time he moans your name.   

[gatorbites-imagines]

How about a Wolverine alphabet? Maybe with the omegaverse too?

Logan Howlett nsfw alphabet 

No outright omegaverse in this, except for what I hc as present in feral omegas. I had comic Logan in mind for this, because I love my 5’3 hairy man. 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) 

Like most, I think it depends a lot on what your relationship is, and what mood Logan is in. He's been around for a long time, so I think he knows how important that stuff can be, but if you guys are one a one-night stand, then he’ll clean you up, make sure you’re stable, and peace out. If you guys actually have something, then he cares more. Like making sure you’re clean, happy, healthy and cuddled. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) 

Favorite part of his partner is their ass and thighs. Doesn't actually matter if you have a big butt or not, he’ll love any ass and any thighs. As long as there's something for him to bite into, then he’s happy. On himself, Logan will have a hard time loving himself, but he likes the parts of himself that you like. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) 

Nasty. Nasty man. Will smear your cum all over his face or his chest, will deepthroat you until your cum spills out of his nose, swishes it around his mouth, loves to eat his load out of you or have yours eaten out of him. It's literally everywhere. Will rub your load into his skin, and his into yours, since it spreads scent so good. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) 

Logan is a man with a lot of secrets, and a lot of things he just suppresses and can’t remember without force. But with you, the dirty secret is probably the amount of clothes he steals to jerk off into. Or how badly he wants to hunt and fuck you like an animal. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) 

He's been here a long time. And we know Logan is very popular, so he’s got a lot of experience, with any gender. Is great at reading his partner too, so he can use everything he’s learned against you. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) 

Depends on his mood. Big fan of being ridden, or doggy. Likes when you mount him from behind, or the kind where you pin him against the wall chest first so you can just give it to him. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) 

He's not an overly goofy guy, at least to people who don’t know him. Will crack some jokes every now and then, but nothing over the top. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) 

Hairy man. Very hairy man. He's a carpet of delicious soft body hair. This does mean you’ll always end up with hair in your mouth. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) 

Isn't the most affectionate in public, but can get very romantic in private, in his own Logan way. Will spend a lot of time scenting you, or just rubbing against you. Builds ‘nests’ in your bedroom, will make you wear his things, will wear your things. Expresses a lot of his love through actions and gifts, but there are times when you guys are being extra intimate where he says it verbally. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) 

Has a slightly above average libido. It's pretty low for a feral mutant like him, but he’s an older guy, mentally anyways, so he knows how to deal with it. Will jack off when he feels like it, sometimes that multiple times a day, sometimes once a week, depends on a lot of factors. Likes to jerk off on you though, or in your things. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) 

Scent and musk kink 

Bodily fluids (sweat, piss, cum, spit, blood, etc) 

Feral kink 

Shibari and bondage

Wrestling and dominance struggle 

Asphyxiation 

Biting and scratching 

Gags and muzzles 

Cumplay 

Throat fucking and training 

Snowballing and felching 

Marking (hickeys, bites, tattoos, etc) 

Mating, in general 

Just very kink positive.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) 

Has very little shame, is willing to do it just about anywhere. Will do it in front of other people, if they’ve consented to the show. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) 

It's not too hard to get Logan going. Honestly, he probably smells or notices you being turned on before you do it yourself. Your laundry always gets him going, especially if it’s underwear you’ve jerked off in, or just dribbled in. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) 

Won't do noncon roleplay. Won’t involve people in sexual things that haven’t consented, fully present, and sober. Not a big fan of involving people, unless they’re trusted people. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) 

Has no preference when it comes to giving or receiving. He likes getting his throat wrecked, so bad he feels like he’s about to throat up even though he has no gag reflex. Big fan of doing the same to you... 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

Tends to have a fast and rougher pace, as you guys get a bit lost in the moment. It’s more feral than most people. There are moments where it’s loving and careful though, especially after missions where you guys almost lost each other. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) 

Big fan of em, but doesn’t need them to survive. Will hint at them every now and then if the opportunity arises, happily goes along with it if you hint at it. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) 

With his age and experience, Logan has tried a lot of things, and he’s willing to try most things more than once. Will also take part in kinks he doesn’t get turned on by if they’re something you enjoy. Seeing you get off is more than enough for him. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) 

Being who he is, Logan has incredible stamina, like, hip breaking stamina. It's more likely you’ll pass out before he’s worn out.  

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

Has no problem with toys, own a handful himself, but doesn’t need them to have fun. He can get really creative with whatever you guys can get your hands on. The claws have been used on more than one occasion. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) 

He likes to tease, but in his own subtle ways. It's more him squeezing your hip, or flexing in his tank top, or making raunchy comments in passing. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 

Not a very loud guy. He grunts and growls, maybe groans, but it's hard to get him to let out moans and whines. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) 

Is really really good at shibari and bondage. It's crazy how good he is with a rope. Has given classes at kink clubs when it comes to shibari and making art with rope and a person as the canvas. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 

Average when it comes to length, but is pretty thick. Uncut and veiny. The kinda veiny where you can press your tongue against them and feel them throb. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) 

Slightly above average drive, like I mentioned earlier, but nothing too crazy. Is good at containing himself too, and will never force his partner to do anything they don’t want. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

Like most things, it depends on the situation. But if you guys are in your room and comfortable, then he falls asleep after you do. He needs to hear your heartrate fall and you relax before he can fall asleep too. 

[spnexploration]

Pack Masterlist

So, I didn't really mean to start a new series when a scene came to me, but we're at over 8k words in the doc now so it's pretty official that I have, in fact, started a new series...

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison (the werewolf from season 2 "Heart" 😆)

Note: This is not a poly fic but I will be leaning into Pack dynamics where Pack members seek comfort in physical contact with other Pack members. So if you're after something poly you could probably read that into some subtext here, but if you're not into that then don't worry.

Series summary: Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

Warnings: canon-level violence, probably a bit of smut, A/B/O dynamics, there will be hugging and sleeping with (literal sleeping, not sex) Pack members who are not your mate. Individual chapters will carry their own warnings.

Supernatural writing masterlist

(image from google)

Chapter 1

Your newly-found mate, Dean, leaves you in the care of his brother.

Chapter 2

You accompany Sam and Madison on the case.

Chapter 3

Dean explains.

Chapter 4

You go home to sleep.

Chapter 5

You head back to the bunker with the Winchester

Chapter 6

Madison opens your eyes...

Chapter 7

Sam and Dean leave you and Madison in the motel room.

Chapter 8

Sam takes Dean to hospital.

Chapter 9

Sam comes to sit with Dean with you.

Chapter 10

Dean gets out of hospital.

Chapter 11

Dean is suddenly sick.

Chapter 12

Dean remains in the local hospital clinic.

Chapter 13

Dean comes home.

Chapter 14

Dean and you go to the doctor

Chapter 15

You try to follow the doctor's orders

Chapter 16

Miscommunications abound...

Chapter 17

Dean calls a family meeting.

Chapter 18

The reader learns a number of things about her new life.

Chapter 19

You need some air.

Chapter 20

You're feeling better.

Chapter 21

You start learning some lore

Chapter 22

The morning after your night alone.

Chapter 23

Your heat continues.

Chapter 24

You've finally been marked!

Chapter 25

Your heat and Dean's rut are over.

Chapter 26

The Pack heads out on Claire's hunt.

Chapter 27

[omegaverseloversunite]

I love this series so much! If you want to understand pack dynamics and the variety it can be in a pack, this is a great starting point. This is the series that got me to go searching and learning of all the possibilities of what pack dynamics mean or could , truly.

@spnexploration 💕

[freaksteur]

Hello hello hello!! Uh oh it’s kinktober time again yep yep yep 🙂‍↕️ Kinktober today 11: A/B/O with Simon (again, oops) — With no-pronouns-mentioned!female!reader!!!

He’d smelt your scent before he’d seen your face.

It was a wild time at base. All the alphas would hide in their rooms, trying to get the heat out of their heads—but Simon wasn’t all that affected. He’d grown up with blockers, so ruts didn’t come easy.

But your scent lingered in the halls.

He’d wondered why nobody was trying to break down your door during their ruts—I mean, you’re the only Omega at base. Why was only he affected?

He thought the best thing to do was to leave you alone for the day. But the smell only got stronger, like a leaky faucet in your room slowly flooding base. Why could only he smell it?

It got to him. It rotted his brain, drove him crazy.

He could’ve sworn he was foaming at the mouth quite a few times today alone—and though he hadn’t gotten a rut since his early teens—his constantly aching, angry cock was starting to get annoying.

Soon enough, he was the one trying to break down your door.

—Except, he grit his teeth, willed his cock to chill the fuck out, and softly opened your door.

The shivering he saw made his heart drop. Here you were, your lousy fingers between your thighs, and a pathetic nest made out of the two bedsheets given and single pillow on the bed. His missing sweatshirt gripped in your hands like a vice.

His stomach dropped. He’d never been so fast on his feet to get you more blankets and pillows before in his life (and, of course, more of his dirty, smelly clothes).

You moaned when he came back. ‘please—hic—close the door,’ you begged. His cock stirred again.

He stalked over to you. You were like a human furnace, with how hot you burned under his touch.

He softly willed your fingers out from your sopping cunt, a whimper dragged from your lips. He brought your fingers to his mouth, licking between the sticky digits and sucking them into his mouth.

‘let me help you baby, please,’ he whispered. You nodded with all the energy you could muster, ears pinned back on your head.

Your sweet scent filled his nose. His mind.

For the first time since he teenage years—he was thrown into rut. Such a violent one, infact, he could barely control himself from fucking you right then and there.

He threw you to your back. Legs went up to his shoulders, as his pointer and pinky pressed flat against his palm as his two spit-soaked fingers gently slid into your heat. Your back arched, your hips instantly rocking into his fingers.

His fingers are big. Much bigger than yours, and oh-so-calloused from all the years of use—rubbing against your soft, spongy walls. He couldn’t hold his breath forever.

He fucked his fingers into your heat like a wild animal.

Soft mewls and whimpers came like a waterfall from you. Slick gushed from you, coating your thighs, drenching the sheets below with sweat and sugar.

He brought his fingers to his lips, lapping them clean. You cried out. A beg—‘please, si!’—before he stripped his belt and shorts off.

He’d never felt so needy in his life, as he drove his cock right to your womb. The way you gripped him, fluttering around him and fucking your hips to meet his thrusts—it was like you were trying to milk him dry.

He got up high. Made sure he could drill his cock as deep as it could go into you, his angry, throbbing tip railing your cervix.

You whined from the pain—but it felt too good to ask him to stop, so instead you begged him to keep going, harder, faster, something to itch that fire growing in your gut, the need to be filled, to be fucked until you can’t speak.

He cupped your face softly, his cock throbbing deep inside you in a steady, aggressive rhythm as he continued to slam into you.

Your eyes rolled with a whimper as you gushed, pearly and hot, all around him. He had to pause—he could feel you fluttering and practically convulsing as you were thrown off the edge.

He gaped.

His balls drew up tight, lewdly slapping and sticking to you with each thrust—before he filled you up. The noises from you, from him—oh gods, it was straight from a porno.

You felt too good.

Again. This time, your face down into the pillows with his shirt wrapped around your eyes—fucking nice and rough and oh-so-fast.

‘Again,’ He’d spit, having you on his lap as he had to resist fucking up into you as you shivered and shook while lowering yourself onto his cock.

It’d been hours.

You were on your back, legs wrapped around his waist. He wrapped a hand clean around your throat as he hammered his thick cock into you.

It had been hours since he had walked into your room, and you could still feel every vein and ridge on his cock as it dragged over your sensitive walls—and every thrust was a sweet, sweet stretch.

You felt his cock throb against your womb. You knew he was close again, about to cum—but he didn’t.

Instead? He started to swell.

‘f-fuck!’ You whined. He was started to get bigger, swelling at the base—stretching you obscenely wider.

He continued to rut into you—with no luck, given the swell—before with a lewd, hot pop, his knot gave into you. He was locked inside you now—his throbbing head forced into your womb.

Then it starts.

His knot begins to empty into you—not letting any cum spill—as it fills you up and swells your stomach.

He was grunting, gritting his teeth—but prying his jaw open long enough to clamp it down to your neck. Marking you.

You whined. His cock finally began to soften as he pulled it out of you—watching his cum begin to gush from your open and abused hole.

But the noises?

Oh, those sweet noises you let out drove him mad all over again.

He’d be locking you to the bed for the next few days—that is, if you don’t pass out.

~

.. a/n: can you tell i like a/b/o 👅 #notproofread

[ladyignatius4]

Mentally making a cup of tea and giving a gentle forehead kiss to every struggling writer on my dash right now.

Your story matters, your ideas are good, and someone out there is going to fall in love with your world.

[savagesnikt]

I saw this going around and I agree.

[other-fandoms-reblogs]

Teaser for “Accidental Sugar Daddy”

|| Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader ||

Read on Ao3

You meet Simon through an old friend of yours, Raphaela, who happens to be his neighbor when your friend decides to have a party. Simon is in a skull-imprinted balaclava sipping a beer in a far corner of the room in blue jeans, combat boots, and a shirt that stretches across his upper chest and shoulders so nicely. Feeling relaxed thanks to the alcohol, you go over and introduce yourself. You let him know you realize he probably wants to be alone and you respect that. You even offer to help him leave and make an excuse for him.

He pulls up his mask revealing nice pale pink lips that sip his beer before replying with a small smile. “Nah vanks, luv. Told ‘em I’d be ‘ere.”

You smile and nod, “Yeah, they can be quite coercive when they wanna be and then make you feel guilty as fuck if you leave or don’t show, but they’re a great friend otherwise.”

He shrugs. “Nah worse van Johnny,” he replies and nods over to Johnny, another new acquaintance you’ve made. He’s rather loud and a bit brash but rather funny and charming.

”Mind if I join you?” You request permission.

He pulls a chair up almost against his seat and motions for you to sit. You sit down and lean back. Simon manspreads in the wooden chair and you sip your beer trying not to giggle. He glances at you. You shake your head.

Standing up, you ask, “Beer?” He nods. You hold your empty hand out. It takes him a moment before he hands you his beer. “Be right back,” you comment.

What you don’t know is that Raphaela has been eye the two of you comes over to talk to Simon.

“How’s it going?” She inquires.

He grunts and crosses his arms.

“Don’t be like that. That’s my sibling you’re talking to. You hurt them, I will kill you,” she warns, an ex-navy veteran herself. It makes him smile and nods.

He holds up three fingers like a Boy Scout. “Promise.”

[kamryyy-deactivated20110627]

reblog if you're willing to answer anything that comes to your ask box right now

[thatfanficstuff]

this should go without saying but i’m always willing to answer anything you want to ask

[idontlikedicktionaries]

REBLOG IF ITS OKAY TO TALK TO YOU.

Please.

[dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Title: Am I Your Secret?

Rated: Explicit

Relationship: Logan Howlett/AFAB Reader

Characters: Logan Howlett, Reader, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Ororo Monroe

SUMMARY: You’ve been sleeping with Logan for over two months, always in your room and always late at night. It started as a way for you both to let off steam, especially after a mission but it’s become more. It’s become near daily he lets himself into your room and slides under the covers kissing or nibbling you awake. It also almost feels as if he craves you as much as you crave him.

Read on Ao3

Your omega calls to his alpha every time and his alpha listens if his scent is anything to go by. He, however, doesn’t respond in kind. What’s an omega to do to convince Logan’s human side to follow through?

“God, Logan,” You attempt to poorly whisper-moan to the ceiling, arching back at the feel of his fingers pinching your nipples tight while thrusting into you. He chuckles at your words, hearing the smug smirk on his lips. The man can play you as if he’s known you a lifetime.

Leaning forward, your hands planted on his pecs and peer into his eyes despite the darkness in your room with only a bit from the waxing crescent moon outside. His eyes are dilated and rimmed red when they meet yours. Certain yours are rimmed gold and dilated. You pant as you work to meet the man thrust for thrust. His hands slide down your chest to your thighs, lightly rubbing them before grabbing your hips hashing and using your like a sec toy, making you thrust faster and harder. You hunch over as you work to meet his desire.

Suddenly, you find yourself flipped over and squeak before grinning up at him with hair in your face. He slows down his movements and wipes his thumb on your face to move the hair aside. He leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, down your cheek, licking down your neck and nipping next to your scent gland before licking it wholly. Your hands take hold of his shoulders, feeling the sweat on his skin, breathlessly gasping at his affection. Your scents cling to each other’s skin. Your fingers card into the back of his head, lightly scratching. He rumbles and pulls away.

You frown at him, and he grins and winks before you feel his powerful thrust, hard into you. “Fuck,” you whisper. He grins. “I need to hear you, baby,” he commands. You pant and whine while trying to remain quiet. Not wanting to wake anyone. He pounds into you, squelches and skin slapping against skin with each thrust.

“Knot me, babe,” you beg him. You can feel his pulling on the muscle, in and out, in and out. It feels so good stretching you out. Pressing against that spot inside you each time. “Please,” you plead. He shifts down, boxing your head and shoulders in with his arms. “Always…baby,” he groans. “Need it.”

With a handful more thrusts, he pushes his knot into you. Locking you both together as your orgasms hit in unison. Arching your back off the bed with a silent scream, baring your neck to him. He nuzzles against your scent gland, pressing his forehead against it, forcing himself to quietly growl. He slowly lowers himself, knowing your strength and density can handle his weight with little to no issue. He rubs his face against your scent gland as he fills your channel, soaking it further. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hugging him to you and inhaling your mixed scents on him. You nuzzled your face against his scent gland, sending shivers down his body that he didn’t try to hide. You kissed it and smiled as you laid your cheek on it.

After a few minutes, you two have caught your breath and continue to hold each other. “Hey,” you quietly spoke next to his ear. You could feel him smile against your neck.

“Hey,” he quietly greeted before asking. “You doing ok?”

“That’s what I was gonna ask you,” you replied, grinning into his neck before placing a gentle kiss on his skin. “I’m fine,” you inform, nuzzling into his neck again. “You feel so good,” you compliment and wiggle slightly drawing a moan from him. “You can go to sleep if you want. I’m good with you here. You’re a very comfy, sexy, warm blanket of a man,” you admire. He shakes his head at your words.

“Nah, I’m good. Not really tired,” he tells you.

He says that almost verbatim every time you bring it up. He never sleeps over, ever. Your omega hates it.

You keep your breath even and push your, now, moping omega away. It isn’t rejection but it might as well be. “Ok.”

He comes to you in the middle of the night, waking you by planting kisses on your neck and shoulders, and sometimes more. Just so you two can fuck and you two fuck for a few hours. Your stamina nearly matches his and his healing factor keeps him rearing to go. The thing is you two don’t always fuck. There are times where he’s gentle and slow and it feels like making love, confusing you and your omega.

By the time his knot deflates, you put the thought aside and relaxed, trying to go back to sleep.

You two lay side by side under the blanket. You decide to kick him out so you can sleep since you have to teach tomorrow,er, today. “Ok, man. Go to bed. I gotta teach and I need some sleep.” You roll on your side, facing away and pull the blanket up to your chin. Taking slow deep breaths through your mouth so you can try not to get riled up by all the scents in the air. It should be comforting but right now, it isn’t.

You can feel the bed shift as he gets dressed. You hunch in on yourself, frowning. He quickly gets dressed and walks towards the door before turning back around. You can hear his footsteps come towards you and plants a kiss in your hair. “Night.”

He’s never done that before. Kissed you bye. He left your room before you could reply.

Your omega was content with the affection while you questioned it. Weird. Rolling back over and getting resettled. You plant your nose on the pillow he regularly uses when in your room and quickly fall asleep, not that you’d ever tell him.

After school the next afternoon, you were scheduled for combat training with Scott and Ororo. While waiting in the elevator, you thought back to your situationship with Logan. The mixed signals Logan were giving you were driving you crazy. He couldn’t make up his mind and deciding what he wanted. You were happy to wait and find out, but after last night, you weren’t sure if you wanted to wait. Instead of going to training, you remained in the elevator and went back up to the main level. You weren’t going to be able to focus without talking to Logan.

Once exiting, you look for him in his usual spots—garage, outside, kitchen—but don't find him. You head towards his classroom, finding him leaning on the doorframe and looking down with a smirk on his lips at Jean. He’s flirting with Jean. Rolling your eyes, you walk up to them with a small smile on your lips.

Logan, of course, sees you before Jean can feel you. You give a small wave. He readjusts and stands up tall as you approach. Jean smiles and greets you, “Hey. We were just talking about you.”

Your brown furrows. “Good, I hope.”

“Always,” she replies. “Scott had told me how your training is coming along and you’re really flexing your powers.” She grinned.

“Yeah, it’s becoming easier. Just working a muscle or developing a skill, I guess. It’s why I’ve been training every day with or without someone,” you explain.

“You didn’t tell me that, bub,” Logan interjects, concerned.

“You never asked, Logan,” you pointed out. Jean turns looking at Logan. “Why does it matter?”

“I’m happy to help,” he offers.

“I’m good. Thanks.” You give him a small smile. “Anyway, I was coming to find you. Need to talk to you about something.”

“That’s my cue to leave,” Jean points out and gives you a quick hug before heading away.

He watched Jean leave a few seconds longer than he should. “Whatcha need, bub?”

You look around, making sure you’re alone. “Can we talk inside?”

His brow furrows and he frowns before nodding. He walks inside and you follow, closing the door. “Logan,” you begin, trying to figure out how to approach this. “I have no idea how to talk about this so I’m just gonna ask: am I your secret?”

“What? No,” he immediately denied, offended. He almost looks like he's snarling.

“Then why do you only come into my room at night? Only my room and only at night?” You press, walking into his personal space.

“Why does this matter? Did someone say something?” He redirects.

“No. I’m just wondering. We kinda just fell into this arrangement without discussing anything, and other than a late night body call, I’m not really sure if there is anything else to expect,” you discuss, pressing your lips thin looking up at him.

“We need to discuss it?” He again seems offended, leaning forward as if trying to intimidate you. It doesn’t work.

You wait a few extra seconds before responding. “I’m not anyone’s secret, Logan. I deserve better.” You turn and quickly walk away. Stopping to open the door and turn looking at him, “I’m done with our arrangement. It was fun.”

“Wait, wait,” he calls, watching you walk away. Standing there dumbfounded.

That's what you thought. He’d be running after you like there was more than sex. You couldn’t do this anymore. You deserved better no matter how much his scent said otherwise. Acting on it only during sex isn’t enough for you. Wouldn’t be for anyone else like you; you’re certain.

After the training session that afternoon, you three were covered in sweat and flushed.

“You kept us on our toes,” Scott panted as he wiped his face off with a towel from his duffle.

You grinned proudly. “You’ve been saying I need to focus and trust myself. So, I did.”

“Remind me never to anger you,” Ororo offered. You giggled and gave her a quick hug.

“I’m not that easy to anger, ‘Ro. You know that.” She nodded while drinking from her water bottle.

“I’m gonna shower,” you advise, grabbing your duffle.

“I’ll second that,” Scott chimed in. Ororo caught up with you two as you entered the co-ed showers to get clean. You were glad that you trained to help distract you but heart broken about ending it with Logan. You didn’t feel like you deserved better but you logically know you do.

Over the course of the next week, you tried to avoid Logan but remained civil and professional when you were required to interact with him, such as training. He kept trying to egg you on and upset you but you kept your cool, barely. When the session ended, you silently glared at him, shook your head in disappointment for his behavior, and walked out without a word grabbing your duffle on the way. You headed upstairs to the separated bathrooms to avoid him.

You omega was moping, heart broken, and missed the alpha. You tried to rest with them and feel your emotions but all it did was anger you. You punched a hole in your closet door and decided to go outside instead.

Laying on the grass in the sun with your eyes closed felt so good. Your mind wandered and your omega kept trying to redirect your thoughts to him but you pushed them away. He was no longer in your personal life. He was only in your professional one as part of the X-men and a teacher. You taught various art classes, including art history and art survey. You used him as a model periodically—the man was built and an amazing male figure.

You pushed the image of him away too and huffed. It took nearly all week to not wake up in the middle of the night. So used to Logan waking you for a booty call. You rolled over on your stomach, chin resting on your crossed forearms. You looked around the beautiful landscape. Your omega seemed to feel a bit better in the sun.

He isn’t yours. He never was. You deserve someone who wants everything with you, not just your body.

[dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Teaser for “Life Just Got More Interesting”

Characters: Logan | Worst Wolverine, Wade Wilson, Mary Poppins, Original Character, B-15, more characters may be added

Rated: Explicit for violence and sexual content

Logan was given a room of his own. Goslyn gave him a set of travel size toiletries for the night. He was thankful and wiped up. Wade had laid out clothes in the bathroom, lending his biggest clothes that he had for Logan to sleep in and wear.

They were a bit tight but comfortable otherwise. Goslyn giggled at Logan coming out in a Hello Kitty shirt.

Wade remained still, tensing slightly as he saw Logan in his clothes and mentally wolf whistled while keeping his face neutral.

“Wade, you ass; give the man one of your hoodies,” they chuckled while looking at Logan.

Wade was plastered to Goslyn’s side on the couch as they rubbed his scarred bald scalp, whined lowly before he got up, heading into their shared bedroom.

“He does that sometimes,” Goslyn explained sympathetically about their boyfriend. “Wade is a big flirt with a big heart; he doesn’t think he is a good person but he is. He cares deeply for all his friends and loved ones. You moving in means you are too now. Be careful with him and he will be careful with you. Just ask and he will give you the world.” Goslyn smiled at Logan. Logan was shocked at the vulnerability and sincerity Goslyn spoke. Needing to process it, he gave a single nod and remained silent. Goslyn walked over to him, stood on their tip toes and gave a quick peck to Logan’s cheek. “Thanks, peanut.” They quickly returned to their seat on the couch as if nothing happened.

Wade came out and handed Logan a navy blue, baggie hoodie before heading back to the couch and cuddling back up to Goslyn who didn’t fight when Wade picked them up to set them on his lap. Logan saw Goslyn quietly smile before pecking a few quick kisses to Wade’s cheek as he wrapped his arms around their smaller frame and buried his face in their dark strawberry blonde hair. They return to rubbing Wade’s scalp, wrapped their arm around his shoulder and continued to read their book.