A/N: Gif not mine. I literally only wrote this for @lisinfleur.
Scratches have a tendency of burning when they’re from an alpha.
At first, they start like teasing little slices. You can hardly feel them until they’re deep against your hips, bleeding over your tattered dress. Your blood red hood is torn to bits, the same with your dress, barely clinging on over your curves. Splinters of wood break off in your hands, hips tight between its firm trunk and the monster raging behind you.
You had never been with an alpha. You didn’t know the swell of his cock-- the sheer size. Impossibly large, more than the betas or omegas you teased around with while claiming Alphas were harmful to society. You now knew the impossible stretch around his cock as he rutted his prick deeply inside of you. Your cheek was tight against the wood as Ubbe hovered over you, teeth bared.
“Open your mouth.” Ubbe holds your cheek in between his clawed fingers. The other contained your hips in a vice like grip, hips forcing his cock to sear deep into your moistening vaginal walls. At first-- it was hard. Blood coated his cock. The more you forced yourself to focus, the easier it became. Your lips spread willingly for Ubbe. A pleased, almost teasing rumble slides up his throat as he angles your chin towards him.
“Good little beta.” He rumbles. “I know you are not made for this. But maybe you could get used to taking fat cocks.”
A helpless whimper slides up your throat as Ubbe’s thumbs force your jaw apart at the cheek, drooling a long line of his saliva into your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, thick with unrepentant disgust as he releases you by shoving your head back into the oak. His hands come back to their place on your hips. Your walls begin to feel raw by the force of his thrusts an sheer size but finally-- he begins to twitch within you.
You’re almost glad for it. You would have been, if not for the ring of muscle growing at the base of his cock. He forces you to take his thrusts as you squirm. “I’m not your breeding bitch!” You squeal and for all that fuss, Ubbe laughs. He pumps his seed in ropes within your body, kissing the cervix and filling you even as you push your hands back on him. He tightly pulls your hands behind your back, the knot doing the work of keeping you on him. He leans in close.
“My knot really doesn’t care what you think you are, (Y/N). It makes you what you are; a bitch.”
