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Billy knows his alpha is perfect.
He’s well aware of his blessing in finding Steve, in the even more fantastic blessing in Steve wanting him, and in the ultimate blessing that Steve wants him the way he is.
Because the way he is can be hard to manage, even for the most patient and functional alphas.
Steve has created a new category of alpha, he’s pretty sure. His facilitation reaches a higher degree than anyone else he’s ever met, probably even heard of. Steve thrives off of simply being a good alpha, which can be boiled down to two basic elements: caring for and providing for their omega. When Billy was the omega in question, it had been rather difficult to find not only someone willing to care for him, but capable of providing for him.
‘Willing to care’ is almost exactly what it sounds like. Billy can be moody, can flip and snarl and pick fights at the drop of a hat and then find he doesn’t care, or doesn’t want to talk, or is actually very happy, why are you overreacting? Steve is very good at managing this. He spent his own more difficult and hormone-stricken years caring for pre-teen pack members. He comes to the table with experience, with a lack of mood-shifting to potentially clash into Billy’s, with a staggering patience that sometimes makes him more pissed than he has any right to be, and yet he still uses that patience to wait out Billy’s fire anyway. He should get a medal for that on principle. Should be knighted, or given some sort of honorary title.
‘Capable of providing’ is where most other alphas tended to misinterpret. They would think they struck gold with Billy, because Billy doesn’t want to be provided with things or gifts or money. Sure, he appreciates a well-thought gift as much as the next omega, but Billy really wants sex. He wants to be fucked, he wants to be wrecked, and dear god, he wants to be knotted. He’s blazed through a few relationships where alphas think this means he wants to be railed nightly, and are so willing to do that. An omega with a hyper-active sex drive? Great. Fantastic. What a find. But that’s not what he means. Billy wants to be fucked all the time. Wants to be wrecked, he said. He made it clear. And, a lot of the time (at least, every time so far), it’s proven to be an issue. It’s just not possible. He’s too needy. He has a problem. He’s a slut, a whore, a bitch. He’s heard it all.
But not from Steve.
No, Steve does not have a problem with it.
Steve works from home. Steve has strange hours that are constantly changing. Steve has fantastic patience and a commanding tenor and a massive alpha dick with a frankly huge knot and he knows how to use all of it to keep Billy calm and satisfied and it’s all fantastic. He lets Billy sit on his cock whenever he wants. Lets him warm it however long he wants. Let’s him work himself to spilling and leaking and making a mess all over his lap and sometimes knots him after, sometimes makes him stay until he’s done, then fucks him ‘til he comes again, sometimes both.
This way that he is is completely possible, with Steve. This want to be fucked constantly doesn’t mean he’s a slut; he’s Steve’s slut. He says it fondly, like he’s a prize, and Billy loves it, because he is. This innate need to be filled— and his sweet, amazing, perfect alpha always willing to oblige— is not a problem.
But, apparently, his sweet, amazing, perfect alpha being a willing participant was only half the part. Because around the fifth or sixth time it happened, Billy realized that his alpha had been holding out on him. The whole time, actually— more than just when he’d let him sit on his dick for hours until he was a boneless, whimpering, pathetic crying mess. Anytime they’d do anything, he’d apparently been keeping a fun little secret, all to himself. Because, apparently, the other half of it was just how much his alpha could come. How fast. How many times. As if he had a firm hold on his refractory and release.
That fifth or sixth time (as if Billy could remember, by this point, come on he’s had his back blown out so many times and his brain fucked out his ears so often it’s amazing he can remember anything), Billy had inconvenienced him. Something about interrupting, maybe a meeting, probably with copious amounts of unnecessary sass topped with a cherry of derision and quite possibly an empty threat to find an alpha who will fuck him. So, of course, he was punished. Exactly how he wanted to be, might he add. He knows how to get what he wants from alphas. Or so he thought.
He had expected to be punished by spanking, one of his favorites; to be sat full of his knot on his desk chair and leaned as far forward as he could over the table edge as his ass was beat red and forced not to move an inch. Or to be pulled back against his chest into a long line of nimble, weightless acceptance as he swatted his pussy until he cried and twitched under the weight of trying not to squirt all over his lap. But none of those things happened.
His alpha effected the calm, stormy demeanor he’d adopt if Billy pissed him off or pushed his patience in public, and he’d said nothing of it. Let him sit still, feeling him so thoroughly. Every inch as he filled out completely, as his knot swelled inside, as he twitched against his g-spot and popped. And Billy loved it. He always loves it. Probably more than the part where he rewards him for staying still and doing so well and lets him come with his praising tenor and devious fingers.
Which, this time, didn’t happen.
Billy stayed still, waiting, until he suddenly felt his cock twitch inside him again, jerking against his walls, never fully softened but definitely filling again. And he’d whispered ‘A-alpha?’ and Steve said ‘Quiet, remember? You can be a slut all you want as long as you’re quiet about it, isn’t that our deal?’ And it was. But this hadn’t been negotiated within the terms of that deal. This was an unaccounted for clause— some wild loophole— a conveniently kept-in-the-dark stipulation. And Billy sat on his knot for two hours as Steve came into him two more times, never deflating, pumping him so full his eyes rolled back and he could swear his stomach was tighter around such a load and he couldn’t move even if the house was on fire.
He checked hard into subspace, that day. Steve says he was like a puppet without strings, so perfect and boneless, didn’t move a muscle, let him do whatever, finally found a way to keep his mouth shut by hanging it open— far more efficient than stuffing it full.
So, of course, he’s constantly trying to get him to do it again.
Today, he’s succeeded.
Billy actually was being an annoyingly pissy bitch, and he’ll admit that with pride. He didn’t eat his breakfast with Steve. Said he didn’t want it, and chose to stay holed in their nest instead pretending to read The Outsiders for the umpteenth time. When Steve came and got him, he followed. So he could dump it on the floor. That was the first.
He did not clean it up, like he was told to. Steve went into his office and when he came out three hours later, he cleaned it up himself, quietly. That was the second.
Billy ignored him, turning the volume up on the metal station on the living room TV so he could hear it in the bedroom and pulled out his box of toys.
He doesn’t really plan on using one, it’s all about appearance.
So he wastes time arranging and rearranging, setting some aside as if narrowing down, losing himself in some very fond memories of some of them being put to very good use, until he hears the volume lower on the TV. That was the third.
He can smell Steve’s annoyance. Can feel it as he draws closer to their room. It sends a thrill through him, like being chased, waiting to be found. He pulls the three toys he’d set aside closer as if poorly concealing them under his leg, and shoves the box halfway under the bed just as Steve’s steps meet the doorway. He turns to look at him sideways, half upside-down, with a far too innocent smile. “Alpha,” he greets.
Steve stares at him, stony and even. “You know you’re not to play with your toys without my permission.”
Billy rolls his eyes, dropping his smile. “I haven’t even found one to play with yet, ease off.”
“Can’t decide?”
“It’s a tough decision.”
Steve hums, walking closer. Billy glances a him out of the corner of his eye, startling when his alpha suddenly wraps his thick arms around his ribs and picks him up to toss him over the side wall of their nest. “Hey!” he yells belatedly, a bit too breathless to be as indignant as he’d wanted it to be.
Steve is walking out with his toys. “I’ll decide for you. Come get it when you’re ready.”
Oh, he’s definitely going to fuckin’ do that.
He climbs back out of the nest and nudges the box fully under the bed with his foot. He wastes no time; there’s no need to be frivolous about things like trying not to seem eager when Steve already knows how much he wants it. His pride is not at all connected to his desperation; they’re two completely different entities. The only way they’re connected is by just how much pride he draws from how feral his desperation can make his alpha. It’s quite a sight, quite a feeling, how much Billy’s need for him makes him need Billy right back. It’s a fucking drug.
So he wanders his way down the hall, proud and grinning, crossing the living room and turning down the hall at the opposite end to lean against the door frame of Steve’s office.
“I was ready already, you could’ve decided back there,” he tisks.
Steve doesn’t look up from his screen. “Well, I haven’t decided yet,” he informs while his fingers type across the keyboard.
“But you said when I was ready.”
“That’s weird; I said a lot of things today that you didn’t seem to hear, but when it involves letting you fuck yourself on something you’re suddenly all ears,” he says, as if it’s so strange, and they haven’t done this exact thing before. A lot.
Billy smirks, coming up beside his chair and leaning his head into his shoulder. “That’s my favorite topic of conversation,” he drawls, tugging lightly on the strand of hair behind his ear. “You want me to sit on your lap while you think about it? Yours is my favorite toy, after all.”
He doesn’t blink, typing for a moment more, treating his correspondence as far more important than getting his dick wet, and Billy bites into his lip as he waits. “Sure,” he answers, like he’d asked to borrow a pen, “just be quiet about it.”
Always.
Billy pulls his shirt over his head and quickly slips his flimsy underwear down, dropping to his knees and moving half under the desk to remove Steve’s own layers. He’s half hard when he gets them below his knees, his mouth watering at the sight of his alpha’s cock so close, the musk of him that curls that primal thing up in his chest and makes him want to purr. But he wasn’t given permission for his mouth; he’s allowed to sit, so he’s going to do that.
He rolls his chair back just enough for Billy to slip between his thighs and the desk, his smaller frame fitting perfectly with his back to Steve’s front when he pulls his hips up to sink onto his alpha. It takes a bit of adjusting, a little coaxing since he’s not fully hard, but when his ass hits Steve’s thighs he leans his spine into Steve’s chest and sighs. He’s here. Just where he wanted to be. Where he always wants to be.
With him situated and still, his alpha moves his chair back to its regular spot closer to the desk. Billy hopes he makes him wait and prays he doesn’t at the same time. He pulls his lip between his teeth at the gradual feeling of his alpha thickening up inside of him, pressing incrementally further, a grower and a shower. He shifts his hips very slightly. He knows the rules: Don’t move unless asked; Don’t speak unless spoken to; Don’t come until alpha says; Absolutely no touching.
He keeps his posture, keeps his hands on his thighs, keeps his focus on the feeling of his alpha filling him so well, listening to all of his alpha’s rules to reward him for giving him exactly what he wants.
The sound of his typing fades to the back of his mind. The feeling of his shirt sleeves grazing over his arms from his subtle movements is calming, a soft though not very prominent distraction from how hard he can feel his alpha is inside of him.
He’s not quite sure how long he sits there, flirting with the edge of a floaty headspace. He loves it, where his head goes; like a drunk feeling, or a hazy high. He’d love to say it’s one of his favorite parts, but there are so many good parts to choose from, how could he possibly pick? If he were able to pay any attention at all to the tiny clock at the corner of Steve’s screen, he would know it’s been over half an hour. But the concept of time just loses all definition, here. He’s in clouds, and clouds can’t tell time. Don’t need it.
The rumble of Steve’s voice cuts into his clouded head. “This one,” he says suddenly. Billy snaps back to himself, his eyes blinking into focus to see his alpha setting one of his toys on the desk in front of him.
It’s medium-sized, slightly ribbed. A good toy for menial play. But as Billy looks at it, all he can focus on is the feeling of Steve currently nestled so far inside him. Farther than the toy— wider than the toy. His pussy’s stretched so much to account for his alpha's fat cock that his lips might as well hug it, his clit pulsing from lack of attention at how wet even just being stuffed full of the overheating, vein-ridged organ is making him.
Billy stares at it, that useless thing. Why does he even have toys? Nothing feels as good as this, as his alpha, even when he’s not moving and letting Billy sit still on it like he is a toy.
The silence must carry a bit too long, considering how Steve tisks and leans down to brush his lips over Billy’s ear, his hard cock twitching inside him and making his thighs twinge in response. “What’s wrong, baby? Don’t want it anymore?”
No. No way. Not when his alpha’s cock is already jammed this deep inside, solid as a rebar wire and five times as thick. He shakes his head with a small sound, and Steve tisks again like he’s some poor thing.
“Didn’t think so,” he drawls. “I coulda told you you didn’t want any of those toys, but you knew that too, didn’t you? I know what you need, baby. Want me to help you feel better? Like using me more than your toys?”
He nods with a soft moan, and Steve’s chest rumbles against his back. “Answers, baby.”
“Yes. Yours is my favorite, promise.” Throw all the others away, for all he cares.
“My what, baby?”
“Your cock,” he pants, sinking against his chest, feeling and simmering in it. He’s practiced enough by this point, warming this many times, that’s it’s not too much of a fight against his body to stay still. Least not this early, not yet.
“Just my cock?” he asks, a deep drawl. The breath of his words crawls over his ear and down the sensitive skin of his neck, across his swelling patch.
“Your knot,” he whines— no, corrects— or, adds. It’s all a slowly malforming mess up here in his head. He has a tendency to enter nonverbal territory rather rapidly when Steve starts like this from the get-go. He’s got a bit more babbling in him, he knows, but god does he love that mindless fucked-into-euphoria feeling. And no one’s ever given it to him as good as Steve— as his alpha— does.
He hums, his arms coming up around him. But not to touch. They flank his upper arms, reaching forward to tap against the keys of his laptop. Billy takes a slow breath, the pause a welcome respite.
Sort of.
He can feel his alphas knot swelling. He’s not privy to going easy on him, and giving Billy exactly what he wants is a sure indicator that the rest is not going to be what he wanted. It’s going to be what he didn’t know he needed.
When the first rush of his seed burrows deep into him, Billy can keep his head. He manages not to make a sound, manages not to press back against it, manages not to break any rules and takes it. Like a good omega. Like his alpha’s good omega, only squeezing around his knot once in surprise at the sudden inflation and insertion offered by his gracious alpha.
He bites into his lip, keeping quiet as he feels his hot come settle inside of him. Deep. Where it’s meant to be.
His blood’s already tapped into that buzzing state from Steve’s words, his attention. His body’s completely drawn to where they’re connected. His focus is a formidable thing, and he knows he’s doing a good job— just focusing on this. How it feels. How good it is, how good he is, how good his alpha is—
It’s so good, his focus. So solid and steady as he keeps himself quiet and keeps himself from moving, from even flexing around the base of the thick cock forcing him wide open, the thick knot lessening as if it knows it’s under control— much like Billy is.
It’s so good he forgets about little things. Forgets about the smaller increments he usually tries to keep in check, like shaking muscles and labored breathing. It takes his alpha’s arm parting from his desktop to span his forearm over Billy’s chest, palm curling around his shoulder, for him to notice.
And that makes it just a little more difficult. Because his alpha knows full well just how much he likes the feeling of being held down. Forced down. Pressed tight and crushing.
His arm burns over his skin, just lying there. His muscle rests right against his puffing nipples, the slightest contact, hardly even friction. His firm fingertips pulse against the meat of his shoulder as if in warning. It would take little to nothing to have them dig in, force his arm against his skin, pull him down and bar him in like a cage and just strong enough to make it feel like one. His alpha is so strong. Such a good alpha.
“You’ve worked yourself right up, baby,” Steve coos, as if he’s a little disappointed and yet as if Billy’s precious. His chin tilts down to press into his own chest, realizing just how quick the rise and fall of it is. “What happened to all that self control, sweetheart? Last time you begged me to plug up your fuckin’ cunt you stayed statue still for an hour, such a good boy. Now you’re panting like a puppy chasing tail.”
That was different. Different than this. Than today. Billy felt docile that day. Felt clingy and just wanted to be near him. He’d sat beside his desk the whole morning lazing and reading and just enjoying the quiet of his company when Steve had turned down to him. He’d blinked up at his sudden attention, and Steve had smiled and told him how good he was, such a good omega, sitting here with me. Would you like to sit here with me?
And he wasn’t ever going to say no to that.
This is not the same.
Steve is thrumming with potential and slight aggravation from Billy’s morning sass. He’s purposefully exuding his dominating alpha pheromones, just bearing down on Billy that he’s not to be fucked with. He’s literally burrowing the reason deep into him, and yet not moving at all. And Billy knows Steve likes it, likes when he’s a brat and Steve has a reason to force his hand, show his strength. Likes getting Billy mindless and fucked-into-euphoria almost as much as Billy does.
He forced his hand so early this time, just to make Billy pay for his behavior this morning. He loves paying for it, so much. So he can only accept that he’s not in control of any part of this ride as Steve says those slightly shameful things that light him right up like a Christmas tree.
“Shaking for it already like you’re gonna make a mess and I haven’t moved an inch. If what you want is to act like a whimpering virgin, you probably shouldn’t be threatening to play with your toys without permission when I’ve fucked you open so wide you could fit three of those things into your slutty hole at once,” he informs lowly with a soft hint of a reproval. His fingers stretch to reposition around his shoulder, placing one down at a time and squeezing into his skin. Billy swallows, knees pressing as carefully into the chair as he can to keep them from shaking harder. “I’ve fit my whole fist in your gaping cunt, omega. You locked on my wrist like you wanted me to milk everything out of you and take you everywhere, show everyone how good you take it for your alpha. You don’t get to shake on my dick like you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Billy shudders in his lap. It crawls down his shoulder blades slowly, then crashes down his spine as it racks his body and makes him clench around the very base of his dick. He can feel the stretch of the top of his knot, nudging in him when he moves however slightly— however accidentally. In his undivided attention to his voice and his perfectly lewd words, he hadn’t even noticed it inflating again.
“You want this, don’t you?” he asks deeply, squeezing his arm against his chest only an incremental amount. Billy’s pulse feels like it skips at the feeling, the almost. The promise.
He nods, opening his mouth to answer and catching on his own breath. His throat feels dry but his mouth is so wet. “Yes.”
“You want me to come, Billy?”
“Yes.”
“Like this?”
He tries not to whine, because he would. He’d respond to Billy being a brat by letting him feel it once, and refusing to knot him the rest of the night. He would. The thought makes him feel a little frantic— a little wired. “No— you know what I want, alpha.”
He chuckles darkly, a humorless thing. “Oh, you want my knot?”
“Always want your knot, alpha,” he breathes, tilting his head back onto Steve’s shoulder when he adjusts Billy’s hips slightly.
“Yeah? Want me to hold you down? Force it to pop right through? You’re always loose enough for it. You sure are wet enough—“
“Please, alpha,” he grunts pitifully past the feeling of his braced arm getting slowly, steadily tighter. Steve hums, like he’s done something right, good, and then his arm flexes to bring him down so hard so suddenly that he’s pulled right onto his swelling knot. He gasps softly when it pops, inflating wider and wider and stretching him, plugging him full of everything that’s pumped out.
He exhales a small sound, sinking back against Steve’s chest. Perfect. Perfect, and exactly what he’s looking for. He clenches down on the fullness in him, as much as he can. He loves feeling this full— full of Steve’s cock and his full knot and a full load. Full of two. He already can’t wait for the next.
“I should shove you off right when it deflates,” he contemplates, almost to himself. Half-minded and definite.
It’s a threat.
And it works.
Ice feels like it slips into his stomach, tainting his high the moment the words make impact with his eardrums. A displeased sound slips right out of his throat when his abdomen tightens as if hit. “No, alpha—“
“Oh, did you want me to listen to you when you don’t listen to me?” he asks, dripping in surprise and condescension.
His apology is right there on the tip of his tongue. Steve beats him to it.
“Don’t apologize like you mean it, baby,” he warns. It’s husky, tisking right in his ear, and his arm releases his chest as his lips move away. “I don’t want to hear that. You’re so good at empty words for a slut that can’t stand being empty for more than an hour.”
The shame that clouds his receptors sends his skin flaring. If he’s not to apologize, he won’t say anything. He knows Steve’s more than capable of making good on the threat, on throwing him off his dick right onto the floor and leaving him there, and Billy has a sick thrill that hits him when Steve uses him like that. But he doesn’t want that today. No, he had a mission when he woke up, and he’s going to make sure he meets it.
So he presses his lips together and stays still. Long enough that his alpha must find the response (or lack thereof) satisfactory, because he’s back to work as if nothing happened.
Billy’s skin sticks to his shirt with every breath. He tries to keep his brain there, feeling the fabric of Steve’s shirt on his arms, the buttons against his spine. It’s soft, cotton catching on the fine hair of his arms in his periphery. Very light blue, a little shiny. Almost unnoticeably so.
If he focuses even slightly on the wet feeling between his legs, on the now absent knot and stiff, huge member pushed into him, he’s going to do something stupid like bounce on it. He doesn’t even want to think if his alpha’s come is successfully stuck pooling deep inside of him, or if it’s part of the wet dripping from his bare cunt onto Steve’s luxury, high-priced slacks. Steve’s shoved him to his knees before— more than a handful of times— for making a fucking ness of his designer clothes. Good omegas clean up after themselves, baby, but a whore knows better than to waste.
He can’t think about licking his own slick and his alpha’s come from his trousers. Sucking it straight from the thread and coming untouched from the appreciative, soft tone of his alpha’s praise as he’s called pretty names in between debasements like an intricately woven blanket that took him right apart. It’s just not beneficial to his current predicament, thinking about things like that.
Billy shudders a slow, shaky inhale when Steve’s fingertips brush at the crease of his hip and thigh, reminding him to breathe.
He paces his breaths to his alpha’s typing, watching words form and the cursor move and blink across document pages and emails.
His breathing deepens. Low. Shallow. The words blur into small, varying-sized faint bricks on the screen when his gaze unfocuses. Billy once spent a full day with his just slightly above average sized purple vibrator stuffed up his pussy, informed when Steve had put it there still in their nest that morning that he wouldn’t tell him when he would turn it on. That if he took it out before Steve did, he wouldn’t put so much as a finger in him until Friday. Since it was Tuesday, that just wasn’t going to happen. Yeah, right. His alpha makes more than good on all his threats. He’s honest. True to his word. And sometimes that sucks ass. Especially when Billy went through the whole day and it hadn’t been turned on once. He was shaking out of his skin by bedtime, waiting in their nest for him to come to bed and turn it on, play with him, tell him he did good and fuck him with the vibrating appendage, tell him nothing and take it out and fuck him raw until he was crying, something. But no, it was the opposite. It was nothing. He came in and kissed him goodnight and went to sleep. And Billy, just on the delirious side of teasing-induced need, didn’t know what else to do but the same.
He woke up at two a.m. to a vibrating pussy, slick and whining, and was fucked sleepy and sobbing in a fierce mating press that knocked him clean into subspace. Steve upholds he’d never had to administer so much aftercare before or since, with anyone, and Billy believes it. He actually doesn’t remember much about it because of it.
Something about that feels like this does, right now. Thinking he knew what he was getting himself into, and ending up in way over his head.
He makes a small, hardly traceable sound when he comes out of his head just a bit and feels his alpha’s swelling knot right against his hole. He cuts off his initial urge to whine, just the slightest bit too late.
“Quiet, baby. You got to be noisy earlier.”
He swallows, nodding once, and then just because Steve’s a goddamn asshole he shifts. Pressing up into Billy just a bit— just enough— any movement is enough— that Billy jolts at the sudden friction inside his slick pussy, she brief contact on his swollen clit, and makes a sharp Mn sound at the back of his throat.
“What’d I say?” his alpha asks lowly. He twitches deep inside Billy’s body, his own trying to clench around him in response. Steve makes a disappointed sound, and it doesn’t feel fair. His alpha knows him so well, too well, which means he knows Billy’s about to break. And Billy knows his alpha, too; he knows Steve wants him to.
So he tries not to.
He tries, he does. Tries to be still. Be quiet. Like he had been. No shaking, no whining, no words, no sass.
He can do it. He’s done more, handled worse. He’s done this exact thing so many times. He’s more than capab—
His hip shifts up just so, and Billy feels the blunt head of him press so lightly into that soft spot deep inside.
Fuck. Fuck—
“Come on— C’mon, Steve—“
Steve’s hands wrap around his neck and he feels his shudder shake the disks of his spine, the marrow in the notches. “That’s not fair,” he croaks around his sturdy palms, his grip tightening and making Billy choke on a whine.
“Except you know fair doesn’t mean anything, don’t you, baby?” he asks, thumbs lining either side of his Adam’s apple and pressing into his pulse teasingly.
“Oh fuck,” he mewls, his bones sinking. They drag roughly to where his blood rushes fast and demanding beneath his skin and the rough pads of his thumbs dig in deep.
And his body goes limp with a killer whine. It really cements it, this position he’s in. That he broke, so easily.
He feels it when Steve comes again, bullying himself so deep inside he can practically feel him in his stomach. Billy’s pulse beats into his thumbs as if he’s pulling him deeper onto his cock by his throat. He keens as he feels that third load splash into him, mingling with the others, the heat of his solid length throbbing and kicking against his walls and misaligning his guts the only friction he gets.
Billy floats in the feeling of the knot filling him. He knows he must look a mess on the third load being dumped in, limbless and weightless at the feeling. He knows Steve must love it, driving his bratty omega to such a state when he’s been here before and managed to keep such better composure. He knows it, and yet he can’t care at all.
His cocklette is stiff and hard as nails, untouched and straining in the open air he’s facing. He can’t even beg for contact, can’t beg for more than just sitting here, taking nothing but the knots he’s being given. He can’t beg for anything, because even just this has rendered him useless. Borderline catatonic.
He can feel his muscles spasming as all he does is receive, his head lolled back onto Steve’s shoulder and his chest (and every muscle in his abdomen) twitching at the need to be touched, the need for some kind of contact. His thighs shake, his hole’s no better, and he can’t control anything about it.
So it should’ve been obvious. He should’ve expected it, really. But expecting anything is not how he knows to be when his sole focus is on just how wide his lips are stretched, how full he feels, how his skin is overheating from absence of touch.
Even the rapid, almost violent clearing of the desk is lost to his hazy vision.
What isn’t lost, though, is how his alpha’s knot lessens its swell just enough to pop out. How the moment it does, he doesn’t even have time to whine in complaint before he’s taking up that now-cleared space.
Steve stands so swiftly Billy’s chest slams down against the desk, a sharp whimper leaving his throat from the force of it and the feeling of his alpha’s cock not slipping out an inch— in fact, pushing deeper. He drags out fast and slams back in, and Billy can feel the slide of his come dripping out from the force of his thrusts, trailing down his thighs and mingling with his slick. His legs kick out from the overstimulation, his sobs of pleasure racking his body. Steve, his perfect alpha, pushes him down by his hips with his full weight to keep him still. His hipbones dig into the edge of the desk almost painfully, his palms a bruising grip. The constant stimulation against his sweet spot makes him see goddamn stars and his pussy twitches non-stop at the barrage.
“A-Alpha— Alpha—“ he sobs, nails scraping into the desk desperately. He growls lowly in response, releasing his hips to wrap his large hands tight around his wrists and push them hard into the wood. He grinds forward with force, keeping Billy’s legs pinned and consequently, ceaselessly jamming into his g-spot and pounding his dick mercilessly into him. “O-oh-ohmy g-god, alpha,” he whimpers, “Please, one more, please please please—“
“You’re so greedy,” he rumbles, dragging his dropped canines over the skin of his shoulder. “You want alpha cock stretching you out every second of the goddamn day. Wanna be pumped so full you’re messing on all the furniture like a bitch leaking heat slick everywhere ‘til you can get filled up again. Are you addicted to my knot, Billy?”
“Yes, yes, alpha— please lemme—“
His hands tighten on his wrists almost painfully, his only signal to keep them there, and then his alpha’s hands are dragging down his skin. Hot brands touching from his shoulders, down his spine, stopping at the curve of his ass, digging his thumbs into the dimples there. “Let you what? Let you have it? Give you exactly what you want? Let you come, as if a little whore should get rewarded for such bad behavior?”
The sharp, stinging slap that lands over the top of his right cheek makes him jolt. He presses his face down into the wood grain to muffle the pathetic sound it drags up his throat, his claws digging into the desk to keep his hands from moving.
“Alpha,” he moans pitifully.
“You just know I can’t keep my fucking hands off you. Know how to get me giving it to you ‘til you’re out of commission, don’t you baby? You wanna be fucked til you can’t take it, right? Wanna be used even after you can’t. Wanna lose your mind on it and let me have you however I want til you’re nothing but a good wet hole to fill and wear you to bed? You love being wrecked out on my knot. Fuck, omega, gonna let me fuck you ‘til I got nothin’ left?”
“Please, alpha,” he sobs, trying and failing to lift his hips to fuck back against his press. Steve lands two sharp smacks against his ass in response. “Fuck, fuck—“
“I’m gonna come in your loose, messy cunt, baby. And then you can come. Got it? You come before I do, I’m putting my knot away for a week. You hear me?”
He whines the affirmative, nodding against the surface of the desk and shoving down the glaring urge to come. Made so spectacularly worse when Steve slaps his palm down onto his skin harder than before, squeezing into his stinging handprints and beginning his brutal, rabbiting pace again. “Answer me, bab—“
“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes— yes I hear you fuck please, ple—“
“Shit, baby— fuck, how long you been holding that one in?”
“I-I—“ Why the fuck would he ask him an actual question right now? He doesn’t slow his pace, Billy’s body falling apart right on his workspace, and he tries like all hell to remember what he’s just said. And, when it clicks, his skin burns like the fire of burning hell. He hides his face against the desk, wet from drool and tears and shame.
“Baby boy,” he drawls deeply, leaning down so his lips drag heavily over the scar on his neck. “My gorgeous fucking omega, perfect boy,” he groans straight into his ear. Billy’s skin crawls with how deep his arousal runs, coming out of his hiding place to bare his neck for his alpha. “Gorgeous, perfect baby boy. So good for me. Would you say it again for me, baby?”
Billy whimpers at the praise, biting into his lip, still trying to stave off his orgasm despite his embarrassment. Steve’s teeth itch over his marked bonding gland and he loses his grip, releasing a string of profane, needy sounds. “A-alpha— I-I—“
“C’mon, baby, you know what I want. Give it to me, my good boy. You’re so good at giving it to me, so good at making your daddy feel so good—“
He gurgles around a choked sound, scrabbling against the desk on his swelling knot, losing the last of his control entirely to try and bounce back on it. “Ahf-f-fuck, Daddy, please,” he cries. “Please, daddy, please come in me, please!”
And he does. Almost immediately, with an almost snarl and a definite bite that almost knocks Billy’s lights out.
He can’t be sure how long he stays there, drooling onto the desk and sliding so impeccably into subspace. He can’t really care, like this. Not with his walls flexing uncontrollably around the knot stuffed into him, so lovingly forced into a fucked-out state that he can’t help but give his alpha more pleasure for gifting him with it. He can hear Steve mumbling what might be praises above him as he shakes and pulses and comes for so long he thinks he might be broken.
His hands drag over his skin as if to soothe him, heavy and rewarding. By the time he realizes he’s panting, releasing tiny, almost imperceptible moans that just flow out of him along with every shockwave of pleasure, those hands are curling around his shoulders.
Steve eases him carefully up off the desk, sure not to tug on where they’re connected, and pulls him close against his chest when they settle back in the chair. Billy rests easy in his foggy brain, fully sedate and content in the haze of being fucked so full he can feel the pressure against his stomach. He knows he’s making small sounds, light noises that just broadcast his satisfaction. The heat of his alpha’s skin is hypnotizing, sticking them together all across the back of his body. The muscle of his alpha’s physic calls to him, chest firm under his spine, shoulders broad where his head rests, thighs bulky beneath him, wide arms slowly wrapping around his chest.
He purrs at the cage they make around his shoulders, across his body, pulling him in. Pressing them together. Firmer.
And tighter.
Billy makes a small disgruntled sound at the hold when it becomes a bit more encroaching than comforting, the possessiveness in the action turning a bit excessive. Just this side of too tight to be comfortable.
And then he feels it.
Again.
Billy immediately whimpers at the feeling of his alpha's cock solidifying in his overflowing pussy, hypersensitive from overuse. Despite only coming once, the sheer amount of pressure inside of him sends him reeling. He uselessly attempts to wiggle in his strong hold, barring him against his chest and holding him down. “A-alpha— I can’t—“
“You know the rules, baby. No speaking unless spoken to.”
“B-but—“
“Quiet,” he growls, the bass of it vibrating his chest and the heat of it falling over his fresh bite. His arm tightens over his chest, the other smoothing his hand down Billy’s front to palm over his puffy stomach, resting there. His thumb sweeps side to side over the slight bulge there, just above his hips. “You feel that? Feel all of me in there, baby?”
He parts his knees wide, so wide Billy couldn’t possibly close his legs.
“You agreed, ‘til I got nothing left,” he rumbles against his ear, his knot pulsing just at his entrance. “Well, daddy’s got more for you, baby. You offer up your pussy up for me, I’m gonna fucking take it. Isn’t that right?” His palm presses down harder. Billy jolts in the prison of his arm, his knees jerking up with a high sound at the pressure on his insides from all sides. “And you’re gonna let me, aren’t you? You love how daddy uses you up, baby.”
His hand trails lower until his fingers press directly into his swollen clit, smothering it as if into submission. Billy releases an unstaunchable litany of whines, his back attempting to bow away from Steve’s skin if he weren’t held so tight as he flutters uncontrollably around Steve’s hard cock. He can feel Steve’s come sliding slowly out of him, messy and wet and amazing and tries to clutch tight around him to make it stay, which is exceedingly difficult with how the alpha rubs his bud raw with his own come, sliding feverishly over his skin. A long, whiny moan falls out of his throat as he pulls on the strong muscle of Steve’s arm fruitlessly.
“Go on, baby. Let me have it. Then maybe I’ll be done. Or maybe I’ll keep goin’ ‘til you fucking pop. See how much of me I can fit in you before your slutty pussy gives up.”
“Daddy—“ he whimpers pathetically, directly into his neck.
“You act like you have limits. Like I’m pushing you more than you want. You don’t even feel yourself fucking back on me, do you?”
No, actually. He didn’t. He’s not really aware or in control of a lot of his body at the moment.
“You don’t have any limit to what you’d let daddy do to you, do you baby?”
He shakes his head, pulled sharply to the edge by Steve’s quick and tricky fingers on his pussy.
“C’mon, baby boy. You first. Get your cunt workin’ for me and I’ll give you one more,” he promises, which lights Billy’s body up like a fucking forest fire, so it’s really bad timing that that’s when he decides to pull his hand pack altogether and slap his clit hard, dead on.
Billy wails, his body twitching hard away from the assault, but his legs are pulled open by the set of Steve’s shoes and the spread of his knees. So he’s helpless to hide or shield his oversensitive pussy from the beating Steve reigns down on him, swatting his slick skin until he thrashes in his alphas lap and snaps. He sobs as his spine caves toward the ceiling, coming so hard he squirts his own slick and Steve’s spend all over their thighs and the edge of the desk. That is, until Steve shoves him down hard and his knot pops again, plugging him up and cutting off his spurting. Billy shudders at the feeling, clutching him so tight despite his abused muscles spasming relentlessly, trembling from head to toe. He can’t shut his mouth as the feeling of his orgasm bleeds into the feeling of receiving Steve’s. His pleasure is soundless, his body far too overwhelmed from everything to produce any more noise, euphoria creeping up and leaving his body on autopilot to milk his alpha dry and drool all down his front.
He can hear Steve talking. Vaguely. More than hear it, he can feel it. It reverberates through his skin to meet his pleasure-addled brain. He feels his lips on his skin, his hands on his hips, the tentative and careful movements he uses to cradle Billy to his chest as his fifth knot goes down. His skin is slippery all over, especially at the point they’re connected. He’s more than wet or slick, he’s drenched from both their spend. His limbs are placed in purposeful positions as Steve turns him on his dick so they’re facing each other, and he swiftly burrows himself into his alphas chest. His omega preens at the closeness, his heavy and divinely sore muscles sinking into him.
Steve stands them up at a measured pace, tilting his face to catch his lazy lips. He takes them to the bedroom, kneeling carefully over the siding of their nest.
“We’re here, baby. Gonna lay you down so you can be comfortable,” he says deeply. Billy nods, so caring, so sweet, his perfect alpha. “You relax baby, ‘kay? Get comfy and just rest,” he assuages, his lips dragging along his skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses, “‘cause I lied.”
Steve. His caring, sweet, perfect alpha. He’s just as fucking insatiable as Billy.
Actually, more.
A whimper tries to fight up his throat as Steve thickens a bit inside him, definitely scraping the bottom of his barrel and straight crashing through the bottom of Billy’s. He’s so full, that’s all he can think. And alpha’s giving you more. Daddy’s so good to us, knowing we’ll take everything for him even if subspace takes us first. He knows his omega so well.
A dull, haze-subdued flare of heat tries to pump through him at the thought of his alpha knotting him when he’s not all here. Really using him up. For all he’s worth. Until he’s really got nothing left, and Billy took it all.
Billy’s not any more of a problem than Steve is, and Billy is Steve’s favorite toy, too.