More Ichigo, please! I loved him! <3 Can I request with omegaverse thi time, please? Top alpha Ichigo x omega bottom male reader, please? With size and strenght difference...
I got you.
Alpha Ichigo x omega male reader
"Pass me that bottle, will you?" Ichigo's voice cut through the quiet, rough and impatient. He didn't look up from the worn leather couch, just stretched out a hand. His knuckles were scraped raw.
I shuffled closer, the cold floor biting into my bare feet. My head throbbed with a low, insistent ache. Sweat trickled down my spine despite the chill in the room. Every movement felt heavy, sluggish.
Ichigo finally glanced over as I handed him the water. His eyes narrowed. "You look like shit." He took a long swig, throat working. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.
Heat prickled across my skin, sudden and intense. A tremor ran through me. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hide the shiver. My breath hitched. It was starting. Again.
Ichigo’s gaze sharpened. He set the bottle down with a soft thud. "Heat?" His voice was low, almost a growl. He didn’t wait for an answer. In one fluid motion, he was off the couch, closing the distance between us. His presence was overwhelming—tall, broad-shouldered, radiating warmth I craved.
He cupped my chin, tilting my face up. His thumb brushed over my feverish cheek. "Can’t even stand straight, can you?" The roughness in his tone softened, just a fraction. His other hand slid down my back, pulling me flush against him. I gasped at the contact, the hard planes of his body against mine, the sheer size difference making me feel small, fragile.
He didn’t ask. Didn’t hesitate. Ichigo scooped me up effortlessly, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. My head lolled against his shoulder. "Hold on," he muttered, his breath warm against my temple. The world tilted as he carried me toward the bedroom, his steps deliberate, possessive. My smaller cock strained against my thin pants, aching.
He laid me down on the sheets, the fabric cool against my burning skin. Ichigo loomed over me, blocking the dim light. His eyes were dark, intense. "Need this?" he asked, but it wasn’t a question. His hand slid under my shirt, calloused fingers tracing my hipbone. I nodded, trembling. The fever made everything hazy, but the need was sharp, desperate.
Ichigo stripped me slowly, methodically. His knuckles brushed my inner thigh, rough against my sensitive skin. "Look at you," he murmured, his gaze fixed on my smaller cock, flushed and leaking. He wrapped his hand around it, swallowing it whole in his palm. The size difference was dizzying. "Mine," he growled, leaning down to lick a stripe up my neck.
Then he flipped me onto my stomach, pressing my hips down into the mattress. His weight settled over me, crushing, anchoring. "Stay," he commanded, spreading my legs wide. I felt the thick head of his cock nudge against my entrance. He didn’t ease in—he claimed. A ragged gasp tore from my throat as he pushed deep, filling me in one brutal thrust. The mating press pinned me completely, his chest against my back, his hips grinding mine into the sheets. Heat surged through me, wild and consuming.
His hands gripped my waist, fingers digging bruises into my skin. Each snap of his hips was possessive, deliberate. "Feel that?" Ichigo rasped against my ear, his breath hot. "How deep I got you?" I could only whimper, overwhelmed by the stretch, the sheer size of him carving me open. Sweat slicked where our bodies met, the room thick with the scent of salt and need. My smaller cock rubbed against the sheets, leaking helplessly with every drive inward.
He shifted, angling deeper. A choked cry escaped me as he hit that spot—blinding pleasure sparking through the fever haze. Ichigo chuckled, low and dark. "There it is." His pace turned ruthless, slamming into me with raw power. The bedframe rattled. I clawed at the mattress, vision blurring. His teeth scraped my shoulder, a warning bite. "Mine," he repeated, voice guttural. "Every damn inch."
My body tightened, trembling on the edge. Ichigo’s hand slid under me, engulfing my cock entirely in his palm. "Come," he ordered, squeezing. The command ripped through me. I shattered, back arching as heat flooded his hand. He followed instantly, hips stuttering, a growl tearing from his throat as he emptied himself deep inside. The knot swelled, locking us together. He collapsed over me, breath ragged, his weight a branding iron. "Better?" he murmured into my damp hair. I couldn’t speak, just nodded weakly into the pillow.
He shifted slightly, easing the pressure but keeping us joined. His fingers traced the sweat-slick curve of my spine, surprisingly gentle. The fever’s edge had dulled, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion and the lingering thrum of satisfaction. His scent—spice and leather and him—wrapped around me, a primal comfort. I felt small, claimed, safe beneath his solid warmth.
Outside, rain began to patter against the window, a soft counterpoint to our breathing. Ichigo pressed a kiss to the nape of my neck, rough but deliberate. "Sleep," he commanded, his voice a low rumble against my skin. His arm tightened around my waist, possessive even now. The knot held, anchoring me to him, to this moment.
The room cooled, but his body heat kept the chill at bay. My muscles finally unclenched, sinking into the mattress. The frantic need was gone, replaced by a heavy, contented lassitude. Ichigo’s breathing evened out against my back, deep and steady. His presence was an immovable force, a shelter. I closed my eyes, the fever’s haze receding, leaving only the warmth of him and the steady drumming of the rain.
Authors note: I hope you all enjoyed this story. As always leave any comments, tips or suggestions down below!
-Star ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★
