Chapter 1: Spooky Smut Schedule
Things That Go Hump In The Night
NegansOtherWife's Spooky Smut Schedule
Goosebumps - Simon/You/Negan
Bewitched - Simon/You
Fright Night - Negan (Alpha)/You (Omega)
Pumpkin Patch - Daryl/You
Trick or Treat (A continuation of Cherries, Chocolate, & Chances) - Negan/You
A Full Moon - Rick (Alpha)/You (Omega)
Witching Hour - Negan/You/Rick (A/N: HAS BEEN REMOVED AND WILL BE POSTED AS A STAND ALONE SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE)
Chapter 2: Bewitched
Something has come over you.
i apologize in advance for the spelling errors, i've been really out of it this past week. next chapter will also be up shortly today. x
The Savior’s latest gathering had dimmed to a somewhat bearable crowd by the time your feet crossed the threshold. The bar scene wasn’t your favored setting but you’d been lulled here at Laura’s doing—free booze if you used your womanly charm.
Not wanting to pass up the opportunity of free liquor and a chance to ogle Simon for the night, you’d slipped into a gray cotton dress, woefully wishing that you had access to your old closet.
“Let’s take a shot,” Laura suggested, hooking arms with your own and waving to someone at the bar. “Ricky owes me. I covered his shift the other week.”
In the dim room, you swallowed the bitter liquid, letting the odor of cigarette smoke and stale peanuts cloud your senses. Nearby, Negan’s prized jukebox belted out the lyrics to a Bon Jovi song your mother used to blast on road trips. The thought brought a bittersweet smile to your lips, you tended to get a little nostalgic when you drank. Bringing the tumbler to your lips, you paused, realizing that it was empty. The warm feeling in your tummy could attest to that.
You sensed him before you saw him, the tiny hairs on the back of your neck brought to attention by the electricity that began to hum just beneath the surface of your skin.
“Need another?” He leaned forward, whether from the loud music or the alcohol in his system, to whisper into your ear. Biting your lip, you silently regarded Negan’s favored right hand in all his drunken glory. “Julio,” Simon motioned to the bartender, “rum for the lady.”
“The lady will have a whiskey—straight, please.” You quickly intervened, boldly meeting the cocky expression he’d thrown in your direction.
“A whiskey girl,” He smirked not deterred in the slightest as he watched your throat undulate as you threw back the shot.
“Among other things,” You supplied, feeling emboldened by the liquor in your veins and the looks Laura was throwing over his shoulder. You worked in the kitchen and often times it was Simon who delivered the produce. Your relationship with him consisted mostly of playful banter that sometimes bordered flirtatiously and though there was mutual chemistry it somehow had remained just that—fleeting exchanges under the watchful eyes of others.
If you had it your way that would certainly change. Tonight.
Holding his gaze, you bit back a grin as his eyes traveled to the expanse of cleavage spilling from atop your tight dress before flicking upwards to your face. “If you could spare it,” You teased, fingering the button of his henley and further loosening the collar.
Brushing your fingertips against the smattering of hair across his chest, you stepped closer, hooking your ankle around his calf as every soft curve of your body became acquainted with the hard planes of his chest.
Simon smirked, emboldened by the knowledge that you weren’t the shy little lamb he’d initially written you off to be. Your lips parted, releasing a soft sigh as his lips brushed yours. You took the time to taste him as his tongue swept across your lips, pressing you into the bar as the embrace deepened.
“Simon—? You little shit! Get your hand from beneath that girl’s skirt, it’s your damn turn.” Negan’s voice was like an ice bath to your senses, if only to temper the babbling heat that had begun to spread throughout your body as you realized with barely any shame that Simon’s hand had begun a trek along the expanse of your inner thigh. Owlishly, you digested the image of your small palm which encased his wrist, urging the hand upwards.
Simon pulled you impossibly closer, his large arm encasing your small waist so that your breasts pillowed against his chest. “It’s my fuckin’ turn, baby.” He parroted, skimming his nose along your protruding collarbone.
“So he says,” You giggled, bracing your hands on his broad shoulders to keep balanced. “Is he always such a bossy asshole?”
Maybe it was the liquor that was making you reckless, but you desperately believed it was something else. Simon had bewitched you from the very first moment you’d laid eyes on his immaculate ass, you were enraptured, your movements synced with his own as your pressed closer; rolling your hips against his groin. For the moment, the music and Negan’s voice faded.
“Oh hell, stay there and fuck her then.” Negan ribbed, elbowing Dwight in the process. “Got my fingers crossed for a little freaky deaky.”
Breaking the kiss, Simon pushed back from the bar, his hand wrapped firmly around your waist; the other containing a bottle of whiskey that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. It almost seemed as if someone had hit the fast-forward button on life and distantly you experienced it all; trading whiskey kisses between Simon’s billiard games with Negan and even dancing with Laura until the music lowered and the bar became emptied, leaving only the four of you.
“That’s it, I’m going to bed,” Dwight grumbled with a heavy sigh, eyeing Simon’s hand between your legs. “Get a fucking room.”
“Dwighty-boy, don’t get your cock in a knot. I bet if you stayed a bit longer you’d actually learn something.” Negan’s familiar drawl filled your ears as Simon’s dexterous fingers pushed the crotch of your panties aside, gathering the wetness in your folds before pressing firm circles into the swollen button above your sex. Your lips parted, gazing into Simon’s glassy eyes as the hemline of your dress grazed the bottom curve of your ass. “Lock the door and let Simon give us a show. The man has a horse cock like you wouldn’t believe.”
Distantly, you heard Dwight’s feet shuffling across the floor.
“That okay with you, baby?” Simon’s voice had turned gritty, viscid with sexual tension as he curled and twisted his fingers against your inner walls.
Cupping the prominent bulge through his jeans, you nipped at his lower lip, dragging your tongue across the area to soothe it, “I don’t mind an audience.”
A startled squeal fell from your lips as you’d suddenly became airborne, a moment of suspension before your back pressed against the soft felt of Negan’s beloved pool table. Simon’s wet tongue soon found your quivering sex, prying your legs further apart and consequently burying his face between your legs.
“That’s what I’m fucking talking about.” His cheer fell upon deaf ears, Dwight having stepped closer towards the pool table to observe your trembling frame. Negan turned his attention to you, observing the straining buds of your nipples protruding through your dress. “How does that feel, sweetheart?”
“Good,” You hummed, bucking your hips forward and taking Simon’s tongue further down your slick channel. “Oh—oh shit! Simon, I love your tongue.”
“How does she taste, Simon?” At his slurred affirmative, Negan snickered, “Drunk bastard.”
Simon was eating you out so good, for someone who’d drunk so much, he was quickly becoming the best you’d ever had. With the eyes of Negan and Dwight trained on where Simon’s head was buried, your back arched as your groin flooded with an unmistakable heat. A guttural groan left your throat as you came onto Simon’s tongue, whining when he withdrew.
“Your pussy is sweet as honey, baby.” He dragged you forward into a drugging kiss, urging you to raise your hands so that he could rid your dress from your body; leaving you in nothing more than a soiled pair of panties and battered boots. “Can’t wait to fuck it next,” He goaded, more to your audience as his hands skimmed your side.
He squeezed your breasts, grinning arrogantly as your nipples pebbled against his palms and you released a low mewl, urging his hands lower to where you needed it. You weren’t sure what had come over you, the atmosphere seemed different, weighted with a tinge of enchantment. Anything and everything was possible if only Simon kept his hands on your body.
“C’mon, Simon. Give the girls a little bit more love than that—Jesus!” Negan shook his head, watching with an intensity that crinkled your nipples and elicited a pleading moan from your lips. At his beckoning, Simon’s lips returned to your breasts lapping at the sensitive underside before encasing the entirety of your left nipple within his warm mouth.
“Oh, yes!” Crying out as hit bit softly into the pebbled flesh, your legs entangled around his waist, pulling him closer towards you. “Thank you, Negan. Just like that.”
Your slit ached to be filled, the throbbing almost unbearable as Negan continued to spill filth into the room. Like a synched band, your body played the lead, allowing the soft grunts that Dwight released periodically and Negan’s coaching to marry into a wicked tune.
Negan stepped around the pool table, eyeing the dampened crotch of your panties with a wolfish grin. “She’s practically dripping for your cock, Simon. You gon’a make her wait? I like to make them beg for it.” His eyes held a wicked gleam and you shivered, considering the implications of his words.
“Don’t think I’ll last that long,” Simon replied, gripping handfuls of your ass as his head dipped and he nipped at your exposed neck. “Whatd’ya think, D? How should I fuck this little slut?”
Your stomach clenched almost painfully at his words, the humiliation settling between the apex of your thighs as you sighed and moaned at his ministrations. Dwight stepped forward, eyes intently trained on your chest as it heaved with each panting breath you took.
“From behind,” He gulped, his Adam’s apple straining with the motion. “Bend her over and fuck her.”
“A classic,” Negan readily agreed.
With quick maneuvering, Simon lifted you from the table, settling you onto your feet, before you found yourself bent at the waist. The felt tickled your sensitive breast, eliciting a whining complaint from your throat as they shared a laugh at your expense.
The sound of zippering cut through the humor, instilling tension as Simon stepped forward, kicking your legs further apart as you felt the warm head of his cock stab your folds.
“Like this?” You weren’t sure who the question had been intended for, but you rolled your hips in encouragement as he began to fill you, inch by aching inch.
“Oh, yes. Fuck me. Fuck me—ohhh, yes!” The chant left your lips like a prayer as Simon fully bottomed out, encasing your hips in a tight grip as he swore beneath his breath; leaning forward to softly press a kiss against your lower back.
Simon fucked you without mercy, viciously impaling you repeatedly onto his cock with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs. Hoping to gain purchase, your nails clawed at the pool table, upending the felt and no doubt leaving claw marks.
“Do you see that?” His hand grasped at your chin, lifting your head from where it’d fallen into the crook of your arm.
“Mhmm…” You were beyond living and feeling, nothing more than a bundle of sensations as you drew closer to your release. Simon’s hands grounded you, pulling you back to your body and the delicious stretch of your walls as he moved against you.
“They fucking want you, Y/N.” The slapping of his hips increased as he moved your face to where you could see Negan unabashedly stroking his cock in time to Simon’s thrust. Your stomach twisted at the sight, thoughts running rampant as you imagined gathering the courage to lean forward and take him into your mouth… Sensing your train of thought, Simon pulled roughly at your hair, urging you to look at him as the tempo of his pounding increased. “You’re mine now, Y/N. Nobody gets to fuck you but me, like hell I’m giving up this tight little cunt. Mine to kiss. To fondle and fuck—in private or public.” He punctuated the statement with a twist of his hips, bringing you dangerously close to the edge as your mewled in compliance.
“Yours,” You complied readily at his request, eyes rolling heavenward as the broad head of his cock kissed your cervix.
“Aww, Simon. You’re no fucking fun,” Negan playfully complained, though the intensity in his dark eyes made you shiver. They were a stark contrast from his tone and you watched as a silent communication passed between the two men.
“Waist up,” Simon finally spit out between clenched teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he charged towards his release. You wondered briefly what he’d meant until Negan’s calloused hand cupped a breast, rolling the nipple between his fingertips as Simon began to tremble.
Startled, you glanced down, learning the hands that touched you so sinfully only to then meet Negan’s heated gaze.
“That’s a good fucking girl,” He cooed, switching to your other breast. Your eyes clenched shut, concentrating on Negan’s sinful tongue as Simon’s length expanded and began to twitch against your pulsing inner walls. “Come on his dick, princess. Just like that. You’re such a good little slut, taking his dick like a motherfuckin’ champ, aren’t you?” Negan coached you through your release, all the while tugging and fondling your breasts as Simon’s grip on your hips tightened to an almost unbearable state.
Collapsing breathlessly onto the pool table, you watched through slitted eyelids as Negan tucked himself back into his pants with a mumbled excuse of going to find one of his wives. Dwight shuffled after him, throwing a sheepish glance in your direction before fully disappearing from your view.
“Simon?” You asked, still coming down from whatever high you’d been on in the first place.
“I put a spell on you.” A content expression smoothed across your features as Simon pressed a kiss to your damp back, tucking you back into your dress and buckling his jeans.
“Tis the season,” He readily agreed, sweeping you into his arms and out the door.
You couldn’t wait to see how next year’s Halloween party topped this one.
Chapter 3: Goosebumps
Reader beware, you're in for a (sexy) scare!
see you next week! x
The formidable feeling settled onto your skin like freshly fallen snow. Light and delicate in its deliverance but heavy and suffocating as the seconds bled into minutes.
You were lost.
Completely and irrevocably lost in the darkness.
All around you, the sounds of the forest continued to encroach upon your trembling frame, playing tricks on your consciousness. The sound of rustling leaves morphed into thudding footsteps. The breeze caught between the branches of trees pressed tauntingly against the stray hairs that fell from your bun and you jumped skittishly as it mimicked the unwanted intimacy of a lover’s caress.
What had started as a simple trek to the bathroom mere several feet into the woods beside your tent, had become an almost forty minute traipse through the forest with only the muted light of the moon to guide you. And you were sure as all hell, as if the dense looming trees above your head wasn’t any more of an indication, that you were traveling further and further away from The Savior’s base camp. Your general sense of direction temporarily skewed by the mini-panic attack you’d worked yourself into.
“Holy-fucking-shit! Hello? Anyone?” You hissed between clenched teeth, jumping at the sound of a twig snapping. You spun, attempting to keep your back covered in case of some sort of potential ambush. You’d foolishly left your gun and with no other choice, wielded the toilet paper roll in your hands as a weapon. At least, Negan would get one last laugh at your expense. The evil fucker. It was entirely his fault that you were in this situation to begin with.
You were a nurse, not some gun wielding badass that he’d made you out to be.
You scanned the muted terrain, attempting to decipher shadows from the living dead in hopes that you’d live another day—or at least, long enough to give Negan an earful. In your silent fuming, you’d missed the moment it’d begun. The woods quieted, your labored breathing impossibly louder than before. Goosebumps began to pepper your skin, an omen of surely what was to come.
It was eerie, unnaturally so, and as your heart pounded out a staccato rhythm intertwined with heavy pants—you stilled.
A warm puff of air swept across your right ear. “Boo!”
Your heart contracted, skipping a beat as you released a high pitched squeal, scampering across the small clearing in a last-ditch effort to put distance between yourself and—
“Oh fuck,” You whimpered, realizing as your heart rate began to plateau and Negan’s thickened laughter filled your ears that you’d been a victim of yet another one of his shitty intentions. “I think I’m going to vomit.”
Negan tipped his gaze to meet yours across the clearing with an almost detached expression of humor, irises the color of ash reflecting the full moon. “Don’t be such a fucking pussy, Y/N. Your badass reputation precedes you.” He sniggered.
You barely resisted the urge to snap at The Savior's fearless leader. One time. But it’d been more than most. Practically a year ago. Like he’d ever let you forget. You’d removed a bullet from his shoulder while The Sanctuary had been under siege and had consequently taken one in the ass as well. The rest—as they say—was history and mostly you didn’t mind the fact that Negan thought he owed you. If anything, he’d more than made up for your injury 10x over.
“I’ve been wandering the fucking forest, Negan. Lost and scared out of my damn mind!” You eagerly scampered across the clearing to his side despite the fact that he’d just played a mean trick. “Get me the fuck out of here, please.” You whined not caring in the slightest how un-badassy you were being. The summer season had shirked away, daylight hours becoming shorter—everything just seemed so sinister and gloomy as soon as the sun set. You would bet half a month’s ration that you were in the month of October.
“Did you hear that?” Snatching the flashlight from his palm, you fumbled with it before pointing the beam of light in the general direction of a rustling branch.
“Calm the fuck down.” Negan cautioned, eyeing you with thinly veiled annoyance as he contemplated whether or not he needed to actually address your fear of the woods now or just brush it under the rug for another time. “You’re gon’a bring some shit down on our heads if you keep squawking like that.”
Despite his protest, he gripped Lucille in his left hand, herding you close with the other so that you were pressed firmly to his side.
“See? There it is again. Right! There!” You insisted, only for a small bunny to hop into the beam of light and scamper away.
Negan gave you an incredulous look, swiftly tucking Lucille back into the holster situated on his hip. “What’s got your panties in a twist, Peach?”
With a woeful sigh, you pressed against his chest, absorbing the warmth of his strong arms encasing your smaller frame. Ok, so maybe your were overacting…
Tipping your head back so that Negan could see your apologetic expression, you softly teased him, “Jokes on you, babe. I’m not wearing any.”
His eyebrow cocked and even in the muted light you could see the predatory gleam in his eyes as he bit his lip, the soft pink skin yielding to sharp canines. Negan looked practically wolfish in the moonlight as he taunted you, “Is that fucking right?”
“Take me back to your tent and you’ll find out.” You alluded, urging him to show you the direction for camp. All the while, you promised yourself that this was the last long-distance run you were willingly attending, low inventory or not.
“Why not here?” His attempt to pull you closer fell short as you alluded his grip.
“I am not fucking you here, Negan. My pussy will get frostbite.” With a huff, you spun on your heels, intent on finding your own way back to camp, thoroughly fed up with Negan’s taunting for the night.
“Y/N, I swear I always have your pussy’s best intentions at heart.” Deftly, he closed the space between the two of you, unzipping your jeans and wiggling a cold hand against your heated front. He cupped your sex, brutally spearing you with three fingers.
“Negan,” You yelped in protest, the leather from his gloves quickly becoming damp from the arousal that slowly began to gather.
“I’ll warm you up, Peach. Don’t I always,” Negan cooed, watching your nipples pebble against the thin confines of your tank top. He chuckled arrogantly at the gush of cream that saturated his hand, a stark contrast from your verbal protests. “Mhmm, peaches and cream. My fucking favorite.”
Your body became lax at his ministrations and you found yourself reluctantly giving in. Whatever Negan wanted, he eventually got. “Okay,” You started, “but I’m not going to—”
The prickling sensation of being watched became overwhelming, goosebumps breaking across your arm where they had recently vanished. “Did you hear that?” Biting your lip, you attempted to still the hand buried between your legs.
Negan’s response came muffled, his face buried in the crook of his neck as your eyes darted in the general direction of—something. “Not that shit again. Fucking relax…”
“How can I relax when I’m scared of everything that moves,” You hissed.
“Because the only thing you should be afraid of is right in front of you.” Simon’s amber eyes flickered above your shoulder, no doubt, meeting Negan’s gaze as he encroached upon your personal space, pushing you back into Negan’s hard chest. His hand found your nipple, brushing softly and pressing heat into your chilled flesh. “Started without me?”
“Please, I’m cold.” You begged the both of them, reading all too well where this was going. This wasn’t the first time they’d shared you, but fuck it all if they thought they were taken you on a cold forest floor. “I bet you’d both keep me warm tonight.”
They thought for a moment, silently debating the merits of taking you now versus in the actual warmth of a tent.
“My tent has lube,” Simon finally offered up to which Negan agreed with a firm squeeze of your breasts. You found yourself moving between the two as the cool air nipped at your bare shoulders.
Barely holding back a protest as a measly twenty yards had been between you and your tent, you did your best to gracefully stalk past some of the Savior’s seated around a campfire before making your way to Simon’s tent at the far end of the clearing.
The soft padding of a makeshift bed cradled your back as you found yourself suddenly horizontal, Simon’s broad frame covering your own. At his beckoning, you lifted your hands, baring your breasts as the cool air mercilessly teased the tips of them into pointed peaks.
Patting your bottom, he huskily ordered, “On your knees, Y/N.”
You scrambled to do as Simon had ordered, a thrum of heat traveling up your spine as you unabashedly watched Negan undress. His thick cock swayed slightly as he walked the short distance, cupping your chin and pressing his member to your lips as Simon worked to rid your lower half of your boots and jeans.
“No panties?” Simon commented, brushing his thumb across the small peach tattoo nestled on the curve of your right ass cheek.
Wiggling your hips in part an enticing manner and partly to find a heat source, your lips separated to engulf the tip of Negan’s cock. Humming at the slight bitterness of his pre-cum, you tongued the head as his fingers wove themselves into your hair, guiding you along his length.
A sharp bite of heat lashed against your clit only to send you mewling and moaning around Negan’s pulsating member. He cursed, clearly liking the vibrations as his hips jerked, the action taking him further down your throat as you pushed back, lowering yourself firmly onto Simon’s face.
The sound of your coupling filled the tent, bringing the heat in your belly to a dangerous boiling point almost immediately. Simon and Negan were both greedy lovers who took without any qualms, you’d gotten to know their bodies on numerous separate occasions. When they were together, they fed off each other’s energy, bringing you to almost unbearable heights of pleasure.
“C’mere, Peach. I want you in my lap.” Negan urged until you released him with a wet pop. Simon pulled away with a slap against the side of your ass, shuffling across the tent in search of lube as you straddled Negan’s hips. “Such a sweet little pussy,” He played in your wetness, collecting the cream and painting your breasts with your arousal.
“Don’t tease, babe. You said you’d warm me up.” He met your soft utterance with a groan of an agreement, pressing his lips to your breasts and lapping at the sticky traces of your wetness. “I need you to fuck me, Negan.” Rolling your hips, you slowly sank onto his cock as he switched to your other breast.
Your head lolled backward, catching in the crook of Simon’s neck as he materialized out of thin air, pressing your further onto Negan’s cock as your walls stretched around the welcomed intrusion. “Oh, Simon. I need you too.” You begged, uncaring that anyone could pass by his tent and become privy to your actions. You were so full. So warm.
“She needs us, Simon.” Vacating your breasts, Negan reclined cockily as if having a mewling female impaled on his cock and his best friend behind her was an everyday occurrence. He absentmindedly strummed your clit. It probably was. “Peach is getting her cream all over my lap.”
“Greedy little thing,” Simon snickered, the unmistakable sound of a cap opening became shortly followed by his lubed fingers pressing against the tight ring of your anus. “Lean forward, honey.”
Fisting a handful of your hair, Negan pulled you against his chest, claiming your mouth with his as he thrust upwards, fucking you until you whimpered.
“Yeah? You like that?” His eyes darkened, watching you shudder as his cock nudged your cervix and Simon’s fingers slipped deeper into your ass. You hissed and ground down harder onto Negan’s lap.
The fist in your hair tightened.
“Oh my, fuck—yes!” Squealing as Simon added another finger, you reached between slick bodies, rubbing at your distended clit.
“Uh, uh,” Simon tsked, folding your hands behind your back as the smooth head of his cock pressed forward, probing your other hole. Negan stilled for the moment, soothingly running his fingers along the length of your side as Simon bottomed out. “Be a good girl and take my cock in your ass, Y/N. That’s it, honey. Good?”
“Mmm, yeah.” You’d gone canonic at this point, allowing the heat to consume you from the inside out. Impossibly warm, you clenched around the two intrusions, jerking your hips when they brushed against one another inside you.
“Your ass is so tight, little peach.” Slowly, they found a rhythm that they both found pleasurable, building it until they began to pound your pussy and ass while you cried out your release.
“God, Peach, your snatch is so fucking tight.” With a low grunt Negan’s orgasm triggered your second release, your inner walls pulsing and beckoning until all three of you were a mass of entangled limbs, quivering as they spilled their release into both your holes.
“Lay with me for a second,” You stretched in the aftermath, reveling in the sore ache that would surely follow you into the next day. The sweat atop your skin began to chill, prompting you to shiver and the familiar sensation of goosebumps erupted across your naked body. “I’m still cold.”
They reluctantly surrendered, eyeing one another before deciding to inhabit the spots on either side of you.
“Warm enough, Peach?” With a content sigh, you pulled Negan’s hand over your breast, placing Simon’s over your waist.
“Hmm,” You yawned, snuggling closer as Simon pulled a blanket over the three of you, “just about.”
Goosebumps be gone.
Chapter 4: Fright Night Pt.1
An omega in sheep’s clothing is hunted by the big bad alpha.
i'm slacking so this is the only update I have this week and this somehow got out of hand. TWENTY PAGES, PEOPLE! hope you like. x
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
It was, for lack of better words, the new world order.
He’d written his creed, emblazoned across the main gates of The Sanctuary, across crumbling buildings, and faded signs over the interstate.
SANCTUARY FOR OMEGAS.
BETAS A RESOURCE.
The subtle strength had been apparent in its deliverance—no minced words and straight to the point. They’d lured you to The Sanctuary with the promise of warm food and security. Wholly truth.
The lie had slipped unabated from your lips: “Human.”
So simple, merely an utterance, yet so hard to maintain.
There was an established hierarchy, no longer would individuals with the Lycan-x gene be forced to live in the shadow of mankind. In a time where their heightened senses and superior strength was especially useful, humans traded labor for protection. The Saviors. A pack that mostly consisted of alphas ran the permitter of the factory periodically, sought food from far-away distances in half the time it would take betas, and above all else, kept the peace.
You were simply an omega in sheep’s clothing. Given a job assignment that some (all of which were humans) would describe as the short end of the stick.
A nanny to the pups of an alpha’s mate.
“Y/N, c’mere! Look what I found!”
You were, quite literally, hidden in plain sight.
“Not too far, Myka,” You softly chided, gathering your skirts that caught in the tall grass with a slight huff. Skirts and dresses. A mandate that every female at the factory had to obey. You’d barely concealed your eye-roll at the blatant sexism.
Taking the small child’s hand, you craned your head, curious to see what she must and dwell in the land of the innocent. Did she also feel the same draw to the forest that you fought to ignore? The urge to run uninhibited? Far from this cage.
“Avó,” Myka replied affectionally, tipping her head so that you could see the bright curiosity that only a child could possess in her eyes. “What’s out there?” She eagerly inquired, stepping forward and craning her head backward to seek out the top of the looming trees.
“Nothing but trees and bushes,” You merely shrugged, knowing what would come next.
“Can we go?”
“No,” With a laugh you drew her onto your hip and began the trek back to where Arat sat with the other children. “You know the rules, little alpha. We stay inside the fence for our own protection.”
“But the boys get to go outside,” She huffed in rebuttal, swiping a lock of hair from her face in annoyance as the wind blew. Impatiently, she waited for an explanation. “I don’t see why we can’t!”
Your thoughts exactly. Of all the trouble you went through to conceal your genetic makeup; you knew indubitably that your freedom was worth the cost. At least, what was left of it.
“Well,” Setting her down as you neared the others, you knelt to her height, inhaling the subtle hints of oranges and baby powder that mingled with her pheromones, “the alphas keep us safe. There are scary things outside, scary things that we don’t ever have to see if we let the alphas do their job.”
“Well, someday I’m going to be an alpha.” With that retort she spun on her heels, scampering off with to the rest of her siblings to play.
“Her stubbornness,” Arat snorted, from where she sat perched on a picnic blanket, “she gets that entirely from Simon.”
“Even so, that’s the fifth time she’s asked this week.” Joining her, you fiddled with her shawl, inquiring of any of her needs. At also four months, her belly was the size of a human’s nine-month pregnancy belly.
“Oh hush, Y/N.” She fought off her advances with a playful laugh. “This will be my third litter. Simon worries too much.”
Still, it would be your head if anything occurred to her or the children. A fact that he reminded you of daily. Though you could admit, caring for the twins was second nature. Evan with the suppressant you brewed, the motherly instincts within you could not be subdued.
Two sets of twins.
You could clearly see why Arat needed the help, especially with several more on the way. Omegas tended to give birth in multiples. The likelihood of triplets and quadruplets were the norm so you’d been surprised that Arat had only four pups. From where you sat, you could hear the soft fluttering of their little hearts in tandem. Triplets.
You yourself had been apart of a set of triplets but time and the walking dead had gradually taken care of that.
“Someday soon our children will play together. You can’t run from motherhood forever.” She continued, a teasing smile unraveling across her lips as she looked with clear adoration to where her children played in the sparse grass that lay within the fenced permitter.
You barely contained the scoff that itched to flow forth. Children were a liability and a way to tether you to an overbearing alpha, who would, no doubt, aspire to control every last aspect of your life.
“I think I’d have to find a nice man first,” You lied anyway, knowing that you could only bear pups with your pre-destined mate. “But I have my hands full with your pups, and that’s enough for know.”
“Y/N! Daddy’s coming, I can smell him!” As was expected, you feigned surprise.
The children having sensed Simon’s presence long before a human infant could, scrambled in your direction to greet their father. Myka, taking her usual place on your lap began to ramble on excitedly about how well her senses were developing. “Can you smell him too?” She inquired innocently.
Before you could answer, Simon did. “Don’t be silly, pup. What have I taught you?”
“Alpha Simon,” You greeted, more out of habit than anything else.
“Beta,” He nodded once before turning his attention to his daughter expectantly, it was a comical sight, Simon’s mock-seriousness clashing with Myka’s own, head tipped back in defiance.
“I know, Papai! Cause s-she’s just a human.” Carolina eagerly inputted, tugging at his pants leg as her younger siblings urged to be held.
“Carolina,” Myka said, chastising her twin. “Daddy asked me, so it’s my turn to talk! Hmm, let me think.” You barely repressed the urge to laugh, watching as she drew out her answer. “Avó is a…beta! And betas are…are…weaker than us so we have to protect them. They can’t hear and smell like us.” She finished, expectantly waiting for her praise.
“Good girl,” Simon stood, placing Eden and Marina on his waist with a practiced ease. “Avó?”
“It means grandmother,” Arat supplied.
“Silly girl,” You kissed Myka’s head, standing and placing her on her own two feet as you began to collect the toys strewn across the small grassy area. Usually, when Simon came that signaled the end of your day. Mid-afternoon and onwards, the day was yours. “I’m only twenty-something. No grey hair, either. See?”
“But you love me, Y/N, and you bake me cookies like a grandmother does,” She stomped her foot for emphasis, only slightly slurring her words in their deliverance. “That means I can call you Avó.”
“Such an alpha,” You teased, knowing that when Myka came of age she’d no doubt bear the symptoms of the class. She was much bigger than her twin and stubborn, very stubborn.
“Avó,” She suddenly pouted, pointing in the direction of where you’d found her only moments before. “I left Ted by the fence.”
“I’ll get him.” Trudging across the clearing, you snatched the worn teddy bear from where it lay discarded in the tall grass and took a moment to admire the thick forest that encased the factory on all sides.
Though you had merely thought the word the promise seemed to come whispered from the trees as they twitched in the warm breeze. Quiet. You wanted to be far from the constant rustling, screaming, and arguing that came with living in this factory. Less confined and free from under the thumb of overbearing alpha’s—unmated or not—you were bound to obey.
“Negan has requested for us to join him for dinner tonight.” Your ears perked at the sound of Simon’s hushed whispering, attempting to be mindful of little ears. “The children will need to be presentable, bathed and dressed.”
Myka whined low in her throat, pressing her face into Arat’s shoulder so that her words were mostly muffled. “I don’t want a bath, Mama.”
Chuckling to yourself, you turned slightly and answered out of genuine habitat. “Little alpha, you always say that. Only for you to whine and complain that you don’t want to come out of the bath.”
She cocked her head, reaching eagerly for her teddy and cuddling it close to her chest as she regarded you with rapidly watering eyes.
You offered your hands to Arat, using subtle strength to assist her onto her feet when Simon’s question made you pause. “You heard that from all the way over there?”
“Oh, um, I just guessed. You know how Myka hates bath time.” You answered, inwardly cursing yourself for your carelessness, you’d been more than a handful of yards away and on a windy day, no less. You forced calm, knowing that your heart rate would be a dead giveaway. He’d know you were lying and that would be it. All of your hard work gone in an instance, forced into tortuous heat cycles and the overwhelming desire to seek your mate.
“What do I get if I’m good at dinner, Daddy?” Myka asked, batting her watery eyes in her father’s direction. She was too smart for her own good, having used her tears to her own advantage. A little alpha in her prime.
“Myka, you’ll take a bath and that’s final.” Arat briefly thanked you before turning and herding the rest of her children into the building much to Myka’s protest. The others followed their sister’s suit, pleading for a bargaining chip.
“Y/N.” Simon beckoned, giving you a lingering look where you stood poised to leave in the opposite direction. Your skin crawled and for a moment you wondered if he could read the lie written across your forehead: I AM AN OMEGA. “We’ll need your assistance at dinner.”
Barely resisting the urge to balk at the command, you nodded your assent. Never had you needed to be in direct contact with Negan, he was ruthless though first appearances may lead you to think the description deceiving.
The Alpha of all alphas.
Your mind with rampant with possible ‘what-ifs’ as you scrambled to count the days of your last heat cycle. It was dangerous territory but you would be safe as you’d drunken a batch of your heat suppressant under a week ago. No more than two weeks would your pheromones begin to flair to their full potential and a new batch would need to be brewed.
With no other choice, you followed dutifully.
“Avó,” Carolina tugged at your skirts, holding her arms out for emphasis. “Up, please.”
“That’s my nickname,” Myka whined, pulling at the bow in her hair as she stomped her foot, the sound ricocheting off the metal walls.
“Hush, pups.” Simon softly commanded, his hand poised mid-air from where he’d been about to knock. “Best behavior,” He gently reminded them.
Resting Carolina on your hip, she pushed her head into the crook of your neck. She was a shy one and though she’d met Negan on several occasions Arat had told you that she tended to shy away from his interactions. She’d deemed him frightening.
“It’s alright, Myka. I’m not only yours,” You softly chided, pulling the little girl tighter against your chest, subconsciously seeking her comfort as the unknown stood just beyond the confines of a wooden door. You were in Negan’s part of the factory, his territory, and it unsettled you to no end. You were unprepared and unfamiliar to his mannerism and assets. Would he blatantly ignore you like some alphas did or demean you and goad you with his inhumane traits?
She blinked. “Who else do you belong to?”
The door opened unprecedentedly, spilling light into the dim hallway as long limbs filled the doorway.
“Thought I heard the sound of my favorite girl.” The smooth voice was the equivalent of something dark and thick being spilled across your body. It slowly encased you, dribbling down your body unforgivingly. Your stomach clenched, though you couldn’t tell if it were more from fear or hesitant desire. The oddity was the absence of heat, no physical sign of arousal. Though you welcomed the emptiness. A comfort that your suppressants were pumping through your system.
“Alfa, eu posso sentir seu cheiro.” Myka chirped, prattling off a mince of English and Portuguese as she tugged at his shirt tails. You were surprised when he returned her gibberish with fluent Portuguese. You’d been at The Sanctuary for only four months and had only learned a handful of amateur phrases that Arat had taught the girls. His knowledge spoke at length of their relationship.
So why now, after all this time were you being summoned to this dinner?
The oddity that was fate. You supposed it would have happened eventually, Arat having informed you once that Negan traveled often and far. The girls talked at length of him, but mostly Myka.
The others, having passed the threshold had left you and Carolina in the hallway and Negan turned his attention to you, beckoning you with a cock of his brow as he held the door open.
“Alpha,” You hesitantly greeted, his dark eyes roaming the expanse of your limbs and the child encased within them.
He cocked his head for a moment, nostrils subtly flaring as he inhaled your scent.
You did the same, though more subtle, inhaling the sultry undertones that mingled heavily with an almost warm musk. Vanilla. You loved vanilla, favoring to wear the scent in your perfume during every stage of your adolescence. Swallowing back pools of salvia that flooded your mouth, you stepped forward, attempting to quickly pass him.
Negan held his hand out, halting you mid-step, fingers just so happening to catch your abdomen.
He locked eyes with your own, identical pools of a deep mahogany reflecting you within them. Bending forward, he tugged at the single curl of Carolina’s hair, beckoning for her to retreat from the crook of your neck. Her slight breathing tickled but it was nothing compared to the feeling of his hands upon your body.
Unwillingly, the vision of your belly round and distended beneath him palm flickered behind your eyes.
“Carolina,” He cooed.
She shook her head, burrowing further into your arms with a slight whimper.
Myka skipped over, informing him bluntly. “She’s shy, Alfa. Y/N, come sit next to me.”
“Of course, little alpha,” Feeling eternally grateful for the ‘out’ you took her hand and willed her to show you your seat.
During dinner you did the best you could to fade into the background, it was clear that the others were beyond comfortable with Negan’s presence except for Carolina who sat on your lap for the entirety of the meal.
Your sentiments exactly.
You pushed at your food, eating but not tasting as the conversation turned to where Negan’s recent travels had taken him.
“Florida,” He grinned wolfishly, impaling a piece of steak onto his fork as he chewed thoughtfully. “My heat cycles next week.” He finally admitted to which Simon and Arat nodded to understandingly.
“How rude of me,” Negan turned fixed his gaze upon you, a stray lock of hair falling forward as he smiled boyishly. “A heat cycle is the only time of the year I can’t control my…” He met Myka’s inquiring eyes across the table, coughing slightly. “Urges.”
Arat winced sympathetically before informing you, “Omega’s have a bimonthly heat cycle.”
You knew of this, dreaded it actually.
“Alpha’s have it annually,” She waved hands in the air, looking for an explanation that a human could understand, “it’s longer, more potent.”
“It sounds…painful.” You quietly supplied.
“To the unmated,” He quipped.
“And the cowards,” Simon inputted, hazel eyes studying you with a hint of skepticism that you failed to see, having Carolina begin to whine in your arms. The beginning of a tantrum. It was approaching their bedtime.
Arat sighed. “Time for bed.”
That night you swallowed the entire contents of your suppressant brew, gagging at the bitterness that scalded your tongue.
You brewed your own suppressant. With the destruction of modern society came the end of pharmaceuticals. Fortunately, you knew of ancient wive tales and had done your research. The final product was a sort of fermented tea, and you kept the contraband tightly enclosed in mason jars under your mattress.
It was long and arduous, but worth it. Alphas tended to seek out their mates once they came of age, sometimes surpassing oceans on a whim. The thought was intimidating, you didn’t want to love someone because of an urge, it was meant to be your choice. The brew concealed your true identity and from what you’d presumed from extensive research, your mate’s ability to seek you out. And while most of the ingredients were easily accessible within the grounds of the factory, you saught the most important component from beyond the fence.
Shifting onto your haunches, you waited a moment before stepping out of the shadows. Gripping your cloak tightly around your frame, you listened.
When it was clear that an alpha had recently moved through the area, you took a running start, feeling a surge of power through your limbs as you used your body to its fullest capability, vaulting over the fence in one smooth move and into the dense coverage of trees. Your feet made the semi-familiar trek as you ran, dodging branches swiftly and listening for the sound of a gurgling stream.
Crouching low, you inhaled the aroma of the wet earth, your senses slightly dulled from the prior brew, you let the light of the waxing moon above guide you to the well-sheltered bush. On your last trip, you had hidden it well, too well in fact.
Plucking some from the vine, you took time to nurture the bush, watering its soil even with its proximity to the steam before ridding the plant of its dead parts.
When you were satisfied, you covered your footprints and began the trek back to your sheltered cage.
Unbeknownst, two pairs of eyes watched you from the shadow.
Avó = Grandma
Papai = Papa
Alfa, eu posso sentir seu cheiro = Alpha, I can smell you
Chapter 5: Fright Night Pt.2
An omega in sheep’s clothing is hunted by the big bad alpha.
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
“Avó, guess what?”
“What, little alpha?” You softly shut the door to Arat and Simon’s shared flat, mindfully skirting around toys strewn across the floor and reaching for a whimpering Eden from where she stood in her playpen.
Your hands soothed down the toddlers back, cradling her to your chest as you listened to Myka prattle on while you attempted to calm her sister.
“You’re good at that.” Jumping slightly, you were surprised that you missed his entrance. He swaggered forward, his dimple puckering as you took a step back. Had you taken too much of your brew? Surely your senses couldn’t be that diminished? You took an experiment sniff, inhaling vanilla. “Beta.” He seemed to tease the word.
“Alpha Negan,” You returned in kind, though flat.
“Yes, little alpha?” Turning your attention to Myka who’d been tugging at your skirts, she reached for you and without thinking you placed her on your hip. “What has you so hyper this morning?”
“You smell good.” She commented, pressing her nose to your cheek as she inhaled deeply. “Like flowers and honey. Daddy says that I’m de-developing at a fast pace. I’ll be stronger and faster than the other kids.” Myka's brown eyes twinkled mischievously and though you were still under Negan’s scrutiny, you couldn’t help but laugh, thinking of your brothers and their constant need to compete against one another. Though, Myka was in a league of her own.
“My little alpha, so strong and resilient.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to first Myka’s cheek then Eden’s when she grunted with jealousy. Happily, you lost yourself in their innocence. “You know what? You remind me of…”
“Of who?” Simon materialized in the doorway of one of the rooms, holding a groggy Mariana.
“Oh, just my brothers,” Shrugging off the comment nonchalantly, you inquired what his plans were for the day. Simon usually helped for the better part of the morning before his duties pulled him away.
His eyes narrowed, watching as you easily totted both a five-year-old and an infant on each hip with ease, despite your small frame.
“Alfa, where are we going today? Daddy said you had a surprise.” Myka asked in a sudden outburst, tugging at the neckline of your dress in irritation. Shifting Eden in your hand, you pulled your blouse free of her grip, narrowing eyes in irritation when Negan didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he’d caught a peek.
“Into the woods, little lamb.” Negan stepped closer, the heat of his large frame bringing forth a shiver. A cold knot in the pit of your belly formed as he loomed overhead, captive in his snare. So cold and void. For a milli-second you found yourself wishing to feel the teasing strands of heat against your skin. “Just like you wanted.”
“Really? You mean it?” Myka squealed. “Both you and Papa? Este é o melhor dia de todos!”
“Arat needs rest, Y/N.” Simon quietly filled you in as you let Myka down and began to pack up the girls bags, Eden clinging to your neck like a lifeline. Into the woods... It was unsettling. Two worlds colliding. The woods was yours. Foolish or not, you weren’t sure if you wanted to share that. “We’ve packed a picnic for the girls. It’ll be good…for all of us.” He turned, meeting Negan’s eyes which had yet to soften in their intensity.
So why, despite the budding delight from the innocents around you, did you feel like you were slipping further into the implicit darkness?
The small clearing in the woods was ethereal, wildflowers that grew in twisting patterns along tree trunks and leaves that hung heavy to form a canopy that partially blocked the mid-afternoon sun. Soft breeze caressing your bare shoulders and the cold grass between your toes.
At least, for now, you could pretend that you were at peace. Inhaling, the aroma of the forest flooded your senses. Wet grass, earthy undertones of moss, and vanilla.
“Content, little beta?” He approached from the east and you could see him so clearly in your mind. Barefoot and windswept. Negan was breathtaking and you found yourself wondering…
“Yes, Alpha.” He hummed, considering your splayed out position upon the blanket. Through the clearing ahead, you could hear Simon and the girls playing along the river.
“Tell me, Y/N, you sleep so comfortable in the presence of the infected.” Detecting the sneer in his words, you clenched your eyes tightly shut, willing him away. You were alone and the soft chattering of the others seemed to grow more distant.
“I don’t judge, Alpha. I never have, and I may be human but that is no excuse to be ignorant. Even if I don’t agree.” You added tactfully.
He stalked closer like a wolf hunting his prey, nearly silent before you found him hovering above your prone frame. Caged.
“Tell me, Y/N.” His name rolling off of your tongue made you convulse, a sharp heat pressing against your uterus from where his groin rested in the cradle of your hips. Still, you kept your eyes closed, refusing to accept this attraction. It was subtle. Throbbing. “What is your opinion of the alpha?”
Your lips pursed. “Imposing.”
Negan laughed, bearing down and pressing his larger body atop yours. Safe. Warmth. How you hated the cold. It’d been so long since you were warm.
“Selfish and demanding.” You rambled on, feeling an unmistakable emotion rising in your chest. “No regard for personal space."
“An overbearing abusive asshole with a God complex?” His nose followed the line of your collarbone and you didn’t push him away. You couldn’t. Your hands pressed indifferent against his shoulder blades, unsure of whether to push or pull him away.
“Something like that,” You sniffed wryly. “Get off me, please.”
“Open your eyes.” It was a command, the first he’d given and you felt, despite the way he’d teased and prodded you the entirety of this trip, the first pulses of fear. He was a dominant, dark and demanding as he greedily enveloped the emotions that swirled in your irises. “Why?”
It was a loaded question, one that you knew the answer to.
“An alpha killed my brothers,” You quietly admitted, watching some of Negan’s hardened exterior ebb away, his eyes lightened. “That’s why.”
The unmistakable heat of his lips pressing against your forehead seemed to meld and sink to just below the surface of your skin, forcing a small sigh from your lips. “Not all alphas are like that, meu pequeno mentiroso. Você não está pronto ainda.”
Your brow furrowed, unfamiliar with the words.
“No,” You agreed, shaking your head and dizzily inhaling the vanilla that called to you, filling your mouth with a rush of saliva. He lowered further, lips barely brushing against yours as you considered the merits of playing with fire. His lure was undeniable but dangerous and messy. A part of you ached to feel complete, feel the arousal dripping wetly from your heat as he pressed forward. Taking you with firm, deep thrusts as he—
From somewhere through the trees Myka’s voice carried. “Avó, look! You have to see what we’ve found.”
He retreated, resting on his haunches as you regarded each other silently, waiting for the little girl’s approach. As Myka broke through to the clearing, you reached for the small mason jar that held your lemonade, taking a swig of the cool drink and standing.
“But sooner or later they all show their true colors.” Negan cocked his brow in retort, dark heat smoldering beneath both brows as he watched you retreat.
“What has you so excited?” Heart racing, you attempted to school your emotions as Myka led you adjacent to the stream that cut through the forest near the factory.
“It’s so cool, Avó! Daddy said it was…he called it, um,” She tripped over her words in her excitement as you approached where her sisters knelt in the shallow end of the water. “What was that word, Daddy?”
“Divine intervention.” Simon stood, from where he’d been crouched.
“That one!” She squealed, pointing to just across the river and to a place you knew all too well. Your stomach sunk, numbly observing the scorched marks upon the earth as your knees buckled and you fell forward. Myka yelped in protest, the girls cried out but it was all a dull roar.
Someone had burned your Elderberry bush to the ground.
Paranoia was a bitch. It crawled inside your head, infecting your mind until your thoughts were tainted with hysteria. Even the slightest moment had you looking over your shoulder. Whether it was circumstances or by pure chance you no longer had access to a key ingredient for your brew. Fortunate enough, you knew of another way, a more expensive way. It would do until you could escape deeper into the woods and seek out a new berry patch.
“Asprin, please.” Your eyes briefly flickered across the scar that marred the better part of Dwight’s cheek. Upon their arrival, Sherry had been claimed by a visiting alpha. He was a visual reminder of why you fought so hard. “Uncoated if you have it.”
Acetylsalicylic acid. It would do, for now. Thought this suppressant wouldn’t be as strong as your original recipe.
“Sorry, Y/N. Can’t...” He gave an understanding look at your shriek of outrage. “New rule. You go to the infirmary now if you need it with a fever of at least a hundred.”
“You can’t be serious,” You spit quietly, mind reeling and the pit increasing in size as you realized you’d been cornered. And what was this? Divine intervention or the cruel hands of faith seizing you mercilessly?”
“Alphas,” He spat onto the concrete, gray eyes cold and hardened to where Simon stood among the masses, counting a new haul. “Pretty soon they’ll have us walking around on leeches.”
Without another word, you fled.
You’d sent word of a stomach bug via a true beta to Arat. For two days you’d lain in bed with heat between your legs. The painful cramping in your uterus pulling pitiful whimpers from your clenched lips. You ached for your alpha, whoever he may be.
When the heat allowed it, you slept, and during the long stretches where you lied awake, you’d rake your mind feverishly for information, desperately summoning your mother’s words, anything she’d ever told you about heat cycles. You’d counted. Once. Twice. Multiple times. Your heat wasn’t for several more weeks and yet…
You could smell the pheromones upon your skin, a sickly sweet beacon.
The last of your suppressant brew had fully depleted weeks ago, and you knew it’d be soon. They would know you were lying, that you were an omega. You had to leave. Despite the connections and relationships you’d forged, there would be nothing left if your mate sought you. Months or even years, he’d find you. They always did. You’d miss the children, miss Arat but…
You’d miss your freedom more.
A loud pitiful howl tore from your lips before you could physically restrain yourself, pressing a cloth to choke back the scream and clamping both hands tightly across your mouth.
With sickening realization, you realized you had called for your mate. The suppressant brew had entirely left your system, much sooner than it’d ever had and you ached, full of heat and want.
The need to be breed.
To be fucked by your alpha, any alpha as the tell-tale smell of your arousal filled the room. You couldn’t stay, not with an overabundance of alphas in the immediate area. Run. The instinct overrided the others and you pulled yourself from the bed as best as you could, leaving your shoes as they’d only impede your intentions.
He was here. The pull in your chest did nothing but aggravate you as you tore down several hallways, hoping to find a back exit, only to almost collide headlong into Arat.
“Oh, Y/N. You scared me,” She chuckled, failing to notice your current set of disarray. “I thought I’d bring you some soup…” With a heavy sigh, you pushed open a neighboring window a cold gust of air forcing its way inside the factory. Her nostrils flared, and it was enough. She gazed at you with a mixture of hurt and disbelief, a minute trace of understanding reading in her features. She took a step forward.“Sister…”
“Don’t call me that! Don’t ever call me that again!” You cut her words off with a sharp hiss, bringing first one leg and then the other as you braced yourself for impact. The ground quickly rose to meet the balls of your feet, an almost four-story jump practically soundless as you careened head forward and vaulted over the fence without another glance backward.
An answering howl tore through the still night and you froze as your body reacted to the anger that it is emitted.
You found your movements stilling, turning in the direction of the pitch. You wanted to soothe him, spread your legs and pant for him to take what was rightfully his.
He was here, and so close.
Arat’s scream broke through your haze. “She jumped through the window! That way, Negan.”
Scrambling you took off through the woods as you cursed this insufferable place, you should have gone farther west and looked for a community of mere humans. You should have never dwelled anywhere near alphas.
And now you were being hunted.
By nature, alphas were stronger, dominant, and faster than omegas. It would only take him minutes to catch you, but you held hope as you’d been given a head start. The forest was desolate and chilling, the usual inhabitants giving you headway as you vaulted over a fallen tree, hope rising as his footsteps faded. Still, you ran and ran, pushing your self to new limits until coming to pause along the river.
Tonight felt different. With a deep sigh, you tore at the bottom of your skirts that had become muddy and torn, leaving them calf length. Stooping, you collected some cool water from the stream and ran it across the back of your neck. Frightening. The trees cast shadows along the forest floor, the moon above your head laying a fluorescent hue across the earth. You could only stay for a little while, you lamented to yourself, at least before the next wave of cramps wracked through you.
As if summoned by the mere thought of them, the next wave hit you, pulling you into a crumpled heap as you clutched your abdomen. The feeling was the equivalent of a painful orgasm, sparks of cold-heat crackling along your spine and pooling in your belly as you whimpered and gasped.
“No, this can’t be happening.” The lubricant dripped from your sex, quickly soiling the thin crotch of your panties before seeping down your legs. “How?” You whimpered aloud.
“Because your alpha is in heat, little one. My knot aches for you.” Negan stepped from the shadows, bare-chested and barefoot, his jeans slung low across his hips, revealing a defined ‘v’ of his lower abs. He exuded vigor, muscles shifting powerfully beneath his skin as he stalked forward, an unmistakable gleam in his eyes that caught the moonlight. He was absolutely frightening, the opposite of the gentle, calm alpha that you’d seen handle the girls. He was angry—no, pissed and it was solely concentrated on you.
“Don’t come any closer!” You warned him, knowing it was futile. “It was you wasn’t it?” You accused, much to his amusement. “How did you know? Was it Simon?”
“You think I don’t know when my mate is in my proximity? He chuckled darkly, tongue darting out to lick the pink flesh of his lip. “The suppressant does shit for me, so I bided my time and waited for the suppressant to leave your system, and when it did I called for you, little mate.” Your mouth dropped at his confession. Cocking his head, he regarded you slightly. “You guzzle that poison like it’ll save you. Why?”
“I don’t want to be in heat.” You spat the word even though it burned your tongue. “I can hide in plain sight. I. can. run.”
To another community, another lie.
The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, mingling with your rapidly growing reluctance. You wanted him, from the very first moment he’d laid his finger upon your person. Undoubtfully, you were his.
Bearing his teeth, he softly taunted, “Not from your mate, Y/N. Never again. I know you, omega mine. No heat in the furnace,” Negan clucked his tongue knowingly, “frigid and unfeeling as the cold winter air.”
“Come,” He beckoned.
“No,” You whimpered, though you found yourself moving forward. “I’m leaving.”
“Omega mine,” Negan’s words crawled down your spine like icy-heat, “you’ve been keeping secrets and I hate playing the part of a fool. My mate serving others below her status?” He turned, spitting onto the ground beside his feet. “My patience is wearing thin.”
Against your better judgment, you turned and ran, hoping the distance would put things into perspective. He didn’t let you get far, taking you down in a swift maneuver that stole your breath and indented the soft dirt as he straddled your waist, fisting the thin material of your shirt in his powerful fist as he drew you until your noses touched.
“How did you do it?” You had to know. Call it morbid curiosity but you’d suspected all along that you’d been given something to cancel out your suppressant. It’d left your system entirely to quick.
“Elderflower.” He smirked, watching your eyes widen. “In your lemonade.”
He tore through your shirt with ease, your breasts bouncing with the force as his eyes greedily enveloped the sight. The heat within you flared and you pressed upwards, searching for the warmth of his hands as the cold air dusted across your chest, coaxing your nipples into agonizing peaks. You were utterly torn between submitting and fleeing.
“How did it feel?” Negan implored, watching as his thumb brushed against the nubs, drawing a sharp hiss from you as he began to roll them beneath his fingers. You openly sobbed, your arousal now having soaked through your skirts, hung heavy in the air. “Your cunt dry and sterile.” He cupped your mound for emphasis, squeezing and fondling as you writhed.
“Cold,” You choked out the word between sobs, arching into his palm. “Empty.”
“Do you want me to fill you, omega mine? Fill your weeping cunt with my knot and rut you—breed you?” Despite your verbal protests, you spread your legs, giving in to the temptation of his hands on your skin. “Don’t fight it, pet.” Quickly he vested you of your skirt, seeking the warmth from your mound that throbbed in time with his own need and you found yourself drawn, reaching out to cup him through his jeans.
“Mine.” Negan leaned forward voraciously devouring your lips as your whined against his, sucking at his tongue and pulling him closer, desperate to feel the warmth of his large body against your skin again. It wasn’t so frightening once you embraced the heat. “Say it.”
“Yours,” You agreed.
“My alpha,” Pressing your lips to the curve of his ear, you drew your legs tighter around his legs, “breed me, please?”
“You want my knot, little mate?” Negan fell forward wrestling with the button of his jeans as he released himself, his cock hot and throbbing against his abdomen as he shifted, purposely stabbing the broad head of his dick against the overstimulated nub above your weep sex.
“I burn for it.” You mewled, the urge to be filled with his seed now eclipsing all other thoughts.
Negan watched you in ‘pre-matial heat’ a byproduct of his own heat cycle. You’d never looked more beautiful to him, uninhibited and yearning for him. His knot. His cock swelled further at the image in his head of you round with his pups. There was no going back once his cock became encased within your sodden heat. He’d make sure of it.
He slid forward with an abrupt jerk of his hips, brutally spearing you with his cock and filling you to the hilt. You were so full of your alpha that you choked on the pleasure, sobbing as the burn ebbed and flowed with each powerful lunge of his hips.
“Yes-s-s,” Negan hissed, watching you beneath hooded eyelids. So warm and his to mark, his to knot. The latter driving him mad with desire, he took you roughly upon the forest floor, seeking to rid the flames that had tortured him for years. “That’s it, little mate. Come on my cock, show me. Show me your heat.” He chuckled arrogantly as you gushed onto his cock, enraptured by his wicked tongue.
“Alpha, alpha, my alpha,” You fingers possessively curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, the bombardment of pleasure bringing you to dizzying heights and with a startled whine, you cried out your release. Your inner walls clamping and milking the expanse of his pistoning length as he nudged against your cervix. Still, it wasn’t enough. “I’m burning for you, Alpha. Please—”
He withdrew at a dizzying pace, nipping at your lower lip before leaving a trail of sodden kisses down your neck as he enveloped a taut peak, reaching with a free hand to gather some of the wetness that had soaked both of your upper thighs.
“On your knees, Omega,” He patted your bottom, keeping a hand between your thighs as you twitched in the aftershocks of your release. “Time for your knot.”
“Please, Alpha.” You were merely a pile of jellied limbs and as you slowly drew onto your knees, he teased you, pressing firm circles against your distended clit as he pumped his cock with the other hand. Chancing a look, you noted it to be almost purple, the engorged head leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. “I want to taste you, Negan. Can I swallow your cum, Alpha?”
You were relentless arching your back and goading, willing for him to give in.
“Not now,” He swallowed, answering gruffly as he pulled you closer, seeking your warm slit and silencing your pleas as he stretched your pussy, the slight pain wringing a groan from your throat as he set a punishing rhythm. Punishing you for running, for hiding in plain sight and for lying all this time while you sobbed your forgiveness. “Tonight I’m going to fuck your sopping wet cunt and plant my seed deep in your womb as your scream out my name, little one.” His volume grew louder as your screams did, your coupling raucous in the near silence of the forest as the knot at the base of his cock began to swell.
Smoothing his hand across your back, he grasped both cheeks in his grip, spreading your ass to reveal your winking asshole and stretched pussy to his eager eyes. He wanted to watch the moment you became his, feel the heat in his balls flood your cunt as he fucked you raw. Leaning forward, he inhaled, pushing you onto your elbows and lifting your ass before you felt his teeth at the nape of your neck.
“Do it!” You begged, “Make me yours, Negan.”
Your pussy began to flutter, another release rapidly approaching as he gave one last thrust, his now fully formed knot becoming wedged within your inner walls. The ferocity of his growl became a dull roar as you came once more, pressing firmly against Negan’s stilled hips before the sharp pain of his teeth breaking the surface of your skin cut through the storm. Warmth spread through your sex as he flooded you with his cum, exhaling shuddered breaths and hands rolling and teasing your tortured breasts.
“Omega mine.” The unmistakable feeling of your souls becoming one seemed to envelop you all at once. Is this what you’d been afraid of? How foolish and naive you’ve been.
“My Alpha,” You sighed contently, still connected as he curled protectively against your back, cupping where you were joined. Exchanging soft kisses, you both observed as your scent began to gradually change with what would be tangible proof of your coupling some odd months later.
With a content sigh, you fell asleep with the soft twinkling stars as your only witness.
Alfa = Alpha
Este é o melhor dia de todos = This is the best day ever
Avó = Grandmother
Meu pequeno mentiroso = My little liar
Você não está pronto ainda = You're not ready yet
Chapter 6: Trick or Treat
You’re in for a treat, or two.
so this bad boy is actually a continuation of Cherries, Chocolate, & Chances (find it in my Tumblr requests). you should totally read that one first or this won’t make sense. maybe, idk.
ps. i’m still working on pumpkin patch as i am behind schedule. x
“Cherry,” He greeted, and with that damn smirk, no less.
“Trick or treat, Mr. Negan.” You cooed, slinking past the door and plopping down onto your shared bed, drawing your legs apart. “I’m ready for some kinky fuckery after the night I’ve had.”
He hummed in consideration, watching as you kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag onto a neighboring chair. “I assume the trick or treating went well?”
He’d been skeptical of the idea at first, but fuck—it was spooky season. No way in hell were you not celebrating. So yeah, you’d made the kids dress up and collect candy from some of the grown-ups who’d volunteered to help out. Fucking adorable (and annoying) little munchkins.
“Yes,” You pouted, rolling onto your stomach and watching as he crossed the room to fiddle with something out of your line of vision. “It’s a shame that there weren’t any lollies for me to suck on. Mostly Jolly Ranchers and Twinkies,” Your nose scrunched up at the thought of those horrendous and highly processed cakes that the factory’s kids had gobbled up so quickly. Those shits really don’t expire.
“I’m rambling, babe.” You prattled on highly conscious of the fact that Negan was barely listening. Sexy fucker. “But I decided to head back early and suck on my favorite lolly.” You purred, nipples tightening at the thought of taking him down your throat for the umpteenth time this week. What? Coach Negan really was hung like a racehorse, but you’d known that, having spent the entirety of PE studying the protruding outline of his athletic shorts.
“Trick or treat, Cherry?” He cheeked, finally turning to face you and lo and behold—there was a fucking lollypop in his hand. He waved it teasingly as he approached where you now kneeled at the foot of the bed, ignoring your shriek of outrage in favor of planting an openmouthed kiss on your collarbone.
“Treat, baby. Always.” Catching his lips, you sucked on his tongue briefly before pulling away when he chuckled.
“You and your damn oral fixation.” He teased.
“Is that what it’s called?” You deadpanned. “You told me you didn’t find any.” Eagerly, you reached for the Blow Pop. Quite different from your usual brand but you’d take anything cherry-flavored at this point.
“What the fuck, Negan?” He popped the sucker into his mouth, rolling it around in his mouth exaggeratedly as you squirmed while he began to peel your tank top from your body. You stuck your tongue out when his eyes narrowed, realizing that once again you’d forgone a bra. Yeah, right. As if Negan was gonna get you to wear a bra after almost twenty-something years of freedom. “I want some.” You whined.
His only response was to tug at your skirt until your lower half was bare and the evidence of your arousal was wet and shiny against your upper thighs. With a soft pop, he pushed the lollypop into your mouth and you nursed it eagerly, realizing he’d filed it down to a smooth surface with his tongue.
“C’mon, Cherry.” He repositioned you to his liking. “On your knees, baby. Show me that sweet ass.”
The sound of his belt rustling made your clit twitch in anticipation. Eagerly, you did as he asked, arching your back as you suckled eagerly on your treat. The acidity of the artificial sweetness burst across your taste buds as you rolled it against your tongue.
“A-ah, shit!” Pulling the sucker from your lips, you cried out as Negan’s tongue slid through the thick wetness that was dripping from your center. “More, baby!” You pleaded, twisting your hips in hope that he’d press his wicked tongue against your clit. You ached for it. More than any lollypop.
“So fucking sweet, baby.” He bit your clit, making you laugh and push back against his tongue as he stiffened it and began to fuck you with short jabs of the appendage, grabbing at your fleshy ass as he smothered himself with it. “My favorite fucking treat, Y/N. How do you do that, Cherry, make me want you like this?”
“I don’t know, Coach, it’s a gift.” You answered, struggling to piece a sentence together as he reached for the lolly that had been clenched in your fist. “Just don’t stop wanting me, kay?”
“Never, Cherry.” The smooth head of the lollypop pressed against your ass and you drew still, mewling low in your throat as it slipped past the tight ring of your anus with a flick of his wrist.
“Holy shit, Coach.” You gasped as he paused to let your breath. “This is new.” A pause. “I’m not sucking on it after this.”
You weren’t that kinky. Honest.
“Understood,” Negan laughed aloud, dimples puckering as he watched the white end of the lollypop stick dangle from your ass. His personal lollypop. “But how about this, baby? Huh?”
“Oh, fucking hell! Negan!” He filled you quickly, setting a pleasurable rhythm as the lollypop jostled in your ass. Grabbing the comforter beneath your fingers for stability, you buried your head into the bedding and screamed as he began to twist the lolly in your ass, the action smooth from your salvia. “I’m gonna c-cum. Too fast, no!” You didn’t want to cum, not yet, at least.
Thrust. Twist. Thrust.
The evil bastard.
“My nasty little slut,” Negan cooed, taking great pleasure in your discomfort. Your face heated with humiliation as his loud voice had, no doubt, carried down the hallway and to those assigned to patrol this part of the factory. “Say it.”
“Y-your nasty little, cherry-flavored slut. Ah!” He palmed your ass where his heavy hand had fell, massaging the sting as his thrusts slowed. “You’re killing me, baby. Make me cum, please?” You begged as he gave your other cheek the same treatment.
“Only cause you asked so nicely,” Nipping at your shoulder, he gathered your hair in his fist, urging you onto all fours as his cock slip deeper, nudging your cervix as he began to torture your other hole. “Bounce that ass, Y/N. Fuck yourself on my cock while I fuck your ass. Can’t wait to taste it.” He groaned. “Fucking cherry flavored, I bet. Would you like that, baby? My tongue up your ass while you gush all over my tongue. ”
Thrust. Twist. Thrust. Twist. Twist.
“Oh, yessss!” His words would someday be the death of you and as your inner walls clenched around his pistoning member and the lollypop, you reached between your dampened bodies to rub your soaked clit. “Cumming so hard, Negan. Oh shit, yes!” You squealed
With a guttural groan, he discarded the candy from your ass in favor of gripping and spreading both ass cheeks, pummeling your hole with his cock viciously as he sped through his relief and released into your quivering walls.
Well, that's one way to make a baby.
“What now, Coach?” You gasped, coming down from that very tasty orgasm.
“Up to you,” He seemed just as out of breath as you were, still he shrugged, running an index finger along the crease where the top of your leg met your groin. “Lots of sex equals one of those little fuckin’ ankle biters.”
“In that case,” Flipping onto your back, you spread your legs and beckoned him forward, grasping his rapidly hardening cock.
Hmm, more treats.
Chapter 7: Pumpkin Patch
Daryl doesn’t mind helping you relive old memories…as long as he can help you make new ones. [TWD season 9 setting]
i'm so late with this one, but yeah life is rough! x
The thrum of the motorcycle did nothing to cool the sporadic tingles of heat that sparked from between your legs. It was borderline torture, not too much pressure—but not lacking, either. A small pothole in the road jostled the bike and sent you shifting forward, grounding your clit against the vibrations that the engine emitted through the seat and simultaneously sending your face flying into the back of Daryl’s neck.
This was torture.
Daryl’s broad back cushioned against your breast, the faint hints of leather and something spicy wafting from his vest as you pressed your cheek closer. It was enough to make a girl cream her panties.
“Ungh.” You did your best to cover the small moan with a cough.
“You say something, Y/N?” He shouted, due to the incoming wind that whipped your hair left and right as he maneuvered his motorcycle around a decaying walker.
“Fine,” You croaked, doing your best to control what you were sure was an impending orgasm. Tightening your grip around his waist, you bit your lip as another moan escaped, this one more guttural than the last.
Daryl cursed. “Damnit, I’m pulling over. I told you to tell me when you got sick.”
Motion sickness was a bitch, enough said.
“Maybe…that’s for the best.” You finally settled on saying. If anything you’d take this chance to gain your bearings.
He drove for several more minutes before pulling onto the shoulder of the road.
“You look flush,” Daryl noted. “Put your head between your legs.”
At his suggestion, you also drank some water from his canteen, leaning cautiously against his bike as he carelessly sunk down beside you as you pulled out your map and began to make notes in the index.
He nudged his shoulder with yours. “Any luck?”
Considering how on edge he’s been about becoming the temporary leader of The Sanctuary, you were reluctant to share the bad news. “No, the opposite.” You swallowed before continuing, turning the map so he could see. “I’ve been surveying the terrain and it just doesn’t make sense. It’s dry and hard packed. I know Alexandria sent us soil for the garden boxes but…nothing grows here. I doubt we’ll find anything better than silt at this point.”
At his puzzled expression, you adjusted your glasses with a regretful sigh. “Um, we’re screwed—for lack of better words. Pretty sure Negan cursed us or some shit.” You shrugged, thinking of your now ex-husband who’d been given a life sentence.
“You sure?” Daryl. A man of few words. “Check again.”
“I went to school for this, D. I’m absolutely positive.” Sensing his impending irruption, you stood with a huff. Slightly insulted by his insinuation.
“Goddamnit!” He kicked some rocks with his boots and you took a step back to avoid the cloud of dust he’d kicked up. “I’m not cut out for this leader bullshit.”
“Daryl, I think you should—eep!” That sinking feeling in your tummy became prominent, the kind that occurred right before a fall and you found yourself sliding down the side of a steep hill as you lost your footing.
Before you could call out that you were, in fact, unharmed he came barreling after you—albeit—more dignified.
“Anything broken?” He checked you over, hands roaming your side and before you could stop it, your breath hitched embarrassingly loud. “Bleeding?”
“I’m absolutely fine. Oh, D. Look!” You couldn’t help but laugh at your stupidity and once Daryl realized you were relatively unscathed, he relaxed. “We’re in a pumpkin patch. Holy shit!” You gaped.
The air felt cooler, a clear indication of vegetation and in the soft dirt, sprawled out on your back you found yourself amid a large clearing filled with pumpkins.
“Holy shit,” He echoed your earlier words. “We can trade the seeds with Hilltop.” He looked around, some of the tension leaving his body, and unwillingly, you found your annoyance rapidly fading.
“Um, for what it’s worth…” You started, feeling that for everything he’d been through, Daryl could have easily ridden off into the sunset and abandoned The Sanctuary’s people. You were grateful.
“Well,” You started nervously unsure where you were going with this, “if it means anything to you, um, I think you’re an amazing leader.” At his blank stare, you continued to prattle on. “A leader with a kind heart, the polar opposite of Negan. That’s who you—”
His lips pressed against yours.
Chapped from the sun but surprisingly soft, they coaxed you from your frozen position. Tongues sliding and teeth clinking, you found yourself kissing Daryl, smoothing your hands down the worn leather of his vest and pulling him closer as your need for air became more compelling.
He broke the kiss, a rare but genuine smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Yeah?”
“Yes, you dork.” You laughed awkwardly, skin flushed and no doubt wide-eyed as he hovered above you. “Um, we’ll have enough pumpkins to last us for months. We can make juice too, we’ll be sick of it actually…” You thought aloud, a wayward sigh escaping your lips.
He pulled back to study your face, half-expecting you to voice your regrets. “What is it?”
“Nothing, it's just…” You rushed to quell his fears before turning your head to gaze across the clearing, “I used to come to a pumpkin patch every year with my family. My mother used to have us drinking pumpkin juice for months afterward.” A broken laugh escaped you. “The memories feel old…like they're faded, you know?”
“I know,” He nodded.
“Oh—!” Gasping when he cupped your sex, you gripped his shoulder and whimpered while he tugged your tank top over your head. “W-what are you doing, D?”
“Making new memories.” He smugly retorted, ducking his head to swirl a very pink and wet tongue along a distended nipple. It sent ripples of heat through your stomach as he switched to the other breast. “Enjoy the ride here?” He teased.
“Oh shit,” You whimpered, arching so that he’d take more of your breast into his warm mouth. “You heard that?”
Daryl gave you a look signaling—‘really’?
Internally, you groaned. Idiot. Of course, he knew.
“I think I’d know if someone was grinding against my Sheila,” He muttered, referring to his beloved bike before kneeling and shrugging off his vest to place it under your bottom. You worked your jeans over your hips, kicking at your shoes a little too eagerly as he chuckled. When you were fully bare, Daryl stilled, studying you with intense brown eyes.
“Nice pussy,” He finally commented, stooping and crudely licking you from asshole to clit as he hummed into your wet flesh.
“Thanks—shit!” He ate you out like a starving man. You’d had boyfriends in the past who had given you head but they’d always been reserved in the act. Daryl hummed and groaned, sending vibrations similar to his motorcycle against your sopping wet core as he added several fingers. With a gasp, you fisted his hair and pressed his closer as the lapping of his tongue against your pussy increased in volume. “Daryl, oh! Fuck me harder! Fuck—ah!”
He added another finger, stretching you deliciously as he curled them just so. Your free hand groped and twisted your breasts as you eagerly barreled towards your impending release. The dam broke and you found through the haze of your orgasm that he’d unzipped himself from his jeans.
Daryl pinched your clit while at the same time entering you as you squealed and jerked, the impossible fullness of his cock nudging your g-spot and rebuilding the heat in your tummy as he began to move; throwing your legs over his shoulder as he dug his fingers into your hips, pulling you even harder onto his cock as you hoarsely called out his name.
“Cumming,” You panted, biting your lip to prevent yourself from screaming aloud. He shifted, relentlessly pounding that spot that had tears of frustration leaking from the corner of your eyes. Distantly, you tasted blood.
Sensing your impending scream, he leaned forever and swallowed your cry, grunting as you clamped down on his engorged cock. Your tongues tangled, fingers becoming entangled in his dark locks as you jerked against him, urging him to cum deep inside you.
“F-fuck!” He stuttered, breaking the embrace to bury his head into your neck as he pulsed deep, spilling himself inside your inner walls.
“Damn,” You sighed, feeling him soften and slip from your sex as you continued to run your hands through his soft hair.
“How’s that for a new memory?” He chuckled.
With a snort, you playfully batted him away before he pulled you closer.
Huh, a cuddler.
Just another memory to stash away.
Chapter 8: A Full Moon
An alpha ruts an omega under the full moon.
Note: There aren’t any soulmates in this fic.
It was late when you got off from your shift at work and started to make the short trek back to your tiny home at the end of 42nd street. Alexandria felt strangely abandoned, the only sound, the slight whistling from the wind through the trees as you waded through the thick fog. It seemed as you were the only inhabitant on the planet. Quickening your steps, you moved with purpose and vigilant eyes.
At a four-way intersection, you paused.
Even with your heightened senses, the surrounding fog made it harder for you to make out the figure who stood on the adjacent road. Sniffing in their direction, your hackles rose.
An unmated alpha.
He tasted of potential and strength. Unwillingly, your mouth watered at the thought of being claimed and mounted.
For the most part, Alphas and Omegas lived harmoniously, but it was instances like this when the lines blurred that you were unsure of why you stayed—at any moment you could be knotted and bound to a passing alpha.
On their terms—not yours.
“Daryl!” You shrieked, quickly surmising who was atop you and fondling your breasts despite your verbal protests. Your natural body mechanisms worked accordingly, springing liquid heat from your sex to make it easier for him to knot you. “Get off me, asshole! What the hell is wrong with you?”
Almost as if to answer your question aloud, the grayish clouds parted to reveal a full moon and you realized with dread it was the time of the month where alphas hunted for a mate—rutting night. The equivalent to an omega’s heat cycle, only shorter and more potent.
It was an uncontrollable urge brought on by the full moon and you couldn’t blame him as much as you blamed yourself when you grounded back against the straining bulge in his pants. A neighboring growl led Daryl to stiffen above you and taking the chance you shoved him hard, the other alpha tackling him mid-air.
Why hadn’t anyone told you? Reminded you?
You had no time to ponder what would surely become accusations later as you fled from the direction of the two dueling alphas. You ran, vaulting over a fence and wading through the grassy field that stood between you and the church—a safe place for omegas during rutting night. It would only be a minute, no, seconds before your hand brushed the door.
The force of the hit sent you sprawling across the grassy field, the wind knocked from your lungs.
You’d been blindsided.
“Rick, it’s me.” You attempted to shift your head, hoping that your panic-stricken expression would appeal to the human that was buried deep by his animalistic instincts. “It’s Y/N.”
“Y/N?” He growled, pausing a moment and you were thankful, contemplating the merits of your discovery that you intended to share with the other omegas. That’s all it took. Empathy.
“Yes, it’s me! Y/N.” You prompted him.
You were hopeful, he’d moved from your frame and you rose on all fours right before he struck, tearing at your skirt and baring the rounded curves of your ass to his heated and possessive stare. Rick groaned in anticipation, he’d wanted you for some time but had realized you’d be reluctant to his intentions. So he’d bided his time, intent on making you his with sweet words and subtle actions until the full moon had struck and urged him to claim you at the risk of someone else doing so.
“Hmm, scream my name.” His hips thrust forward after pushing four fingers into your sex. A test. You groaned from the intrusion, his throbbing knot already rapidly swelling as he took you underneath the full moon. Grasping at the scruff of your neck he fisted the other in the back of your shirt, tearing at the flimsy fabric and baring your swaying breasts to the rapidly approaching alphas in the distance. Two of them you recognized. Daryl and Abraham.
“Mine,” Rick growled, bearing his teeth and rising onto his haunches. The sudden movement took you off guard as he hooked his forearms under each of your thighs and displayed his almost fully formed knot for them all to see. You were practically drooling, breasts bouncing and head bobbing to and fro as he continued to thrust into your dripping heat.
“Alpha,” You whimpered.
He hushed you, thrusting deeper as he lewdly filled your ears with promises. Of days like this that would be spent filled to the brim with his cock, your belly swollen with his pups.
“Please,” You begged, finding that the energy of the full moon was affecting you as well. You wanted what he promised, it almost pained you that you couldn’t have it now—right here in this moment. You wanted Rick and the strength and sheer dominance that he emitted. He was the Alpha of the alphas. You’d lusted after him secretly and now, with your emotional inhibitions torn down by his greedy hands, you could have it all. “Show them I’m yours, Alpha.”
“You want my knot, Omega?” He thrust for emphasis, enjoying the flush of your skin beneath the moonlight. “In front of all these alphas?”
Daryl was the first to approach, slinking from the shadows and kneeling at a respectable distance with his head cocked in interest. The set of eyes became multiplied and you found yourself jerking in Rick’s arm as he thrust his knot into your sopping sex. Finally, he released a groan so animalistic that your soul quivered and your cunt ached as he rutted you, wringing the last ounce of his orgasm.
Your release dripped down your thighs, wetting Rick as you came yourself with soft pants and a slight whimper. An ironic applause came from your small audience before they shuffled back into the shadows as you both collapsed into a sweaty heap.
“Rick?” He shifted, rolling both of you onto your sides, humming in inquiry as he pressed a hand to your abdomen, firmly pulling your back against his chest. “Isn’t the moon lovely tonight?”