bakerstreet | Alpha/Beta/Omega

Alpha/Beta/Omega

THE ALPHA/BETA/OMEGA MEME

In our world, sexual roles are commonly defined by genders -- male or female or other, by sexualities -- gay or straight, bi or asexual or in-between. But what if they were defined by something else entirely?

Alpha/Beta/Omegaverse is a fusion of fanfiction tropes and animalistic behavior. In this world, sexual roles are divided into three categories: the Alphas (the dominant, the protective and the aggressive), the Betas (ordinary humans) and the Omegas (submissive, fertile and able to carry children).

RESOURCES:
Fanlore on the Alpha/Beta/Omegaverse
Alphas, Betas and Omegas: A primer.

CONTENT WARNING: Below the cut contains descriptions of animalistic sexual behavior as applied to humans, situations of dubious consent, explicit situations, mpreg, and scenarios of societal oppression. Click with caution!

ROLES:
1 - The Alpha.
* Stereotypically type A personalities.
* Anatomically: Males have a penis; females may have a penis in addition to a vagina.
* Alphas knot their mates, meaning that the base of the penis swells and locks them inside their mate while they produce copious amounts of semen in an effort to breed.
* Strong sense of smell.
* Near an Omega in heat, they experience a compulsion to mate that is almost impossible to overcome.
* Alphas may go into rut, which is their equivalent of Omega heat, and drives them to mate.

2 - The Beta.
* Ordinary human being.
* Males have penises; females have vaginas.
* Can mate to anyone.
* Might be able to smell hormones of Omegas and Alphas, but will not be overwhelmingly affected by them.

3 - The Omega.
* Stereotypically submissive, quiet, intelligent and less physically able.
* Female anatomy is similar to Betas; males are self-lubricating and may have either an external or internal vaginal setup.
* Regularly go into heat, which involves being overcome by the urge to mate. They are unable to consent while in heat.
* May be made compliant by a bite to the neck. However, that may also induce a mating bond.
* Often regarded as second-class citizens or prizes to be won.

SITUATIONS:
1 - Bonding - Love at first sight. You've spotted your soulmate. You can smell them, you can feel them, you know that they'll be with you until the end of your days. Unless there's something between the two of you. It could be age - maybe one of you has to wait until the other has reached maturity. It could be that the bond is one-sided, and the other has yet to fall in love. It could be an unwanted bond, or society could have divided you into different places. Is your love strong enough to conquer?

2 - Heat/Rut - The need is coming on you strong. Everyone for a half-mile around can smell it. Better find someone to ride it out with, or hole yourself up in a room with a few bottles of water and a durable sex toy. And you'd better hope that there isn't someone out there who will take advantage of your pliable state. Best case scenario, there might be a Beta who can take care of you, or fend off anyone too predatory.

3 - Pregnancy - Whether through a heat or not, you're pregnant. Congratulations - or condolences. Is it time to start a family, or time to start panicking?

4 - Suppressants - You're using suppressants to keep yourself on an even hormone cycle, skipping heats, or maybe pretending to pass as a different class of society. After all, Omegas might want to be in the military, where they're not usually allowed - or an Alpha might want to take a job in a university or as a nurse. Shouldn't they be allowed to, if their hormones are suppressed? Just hope that you don't miss a dose.

5 - Mistaken Identity - That friend that you always thought was an Alpha, or an Omega, or a neutral Beta, turns out to be something entirely different, and your world is turned absolutely upside down. Does it challenge your preconceptions? Or does it just ruin the balance between you two?

6 - Unlikely Pairs - After all, there's no actual reason that Alphas have to mate with Omegas. Maybe two Omegas can satisfy each other. Or two Alphas. Or your intended mate could easily be a Beta. Maybe this is just about breaking out of your pre-established role and becoming something new.

7 - Manifestation - In some cases, an individual may not know they are Omega, Beta or Alpha until their first heat/rut/manifestation, usually happening in early teen years. It may take you by surprise; it may be a blessing, or may be a deep disappointment.

8 - Other - Adventures in getting jobs, making families, fighting bad guys, and anything else you can come up with!

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This wasn't Stiles' first rodeo. He knew what to expect when he felt the shivery curl of pleasure in his gut. When the scent of someone familiar had him gripping his own thigh to keep from going over and burying his face in their hair.

It meant Stiles needed some alone time. Preferably sooner than later. The longer he left it, the harder it would get not to touch or taste or push against a wall and rub against.

He had to stop thinking about it, because that wasn't helping. Being at school wasn't helping either, and he looked at the clock, wondering if he could slip out unnoticed. Finstock was busy yelling at Greenberg, so he used that as an excuse to slip out of the class, Scott giving him a knowing look.

Damn werewolf noses.

If he could just sneak down to the basement and out of the back entrance, he could slip around to the parking lot, get in his jeep, and go home. All would be well. He had a plan. He was golden. He was a god. He was -- damn. Was someone else in the basement with him. He paused, holding his breath to hear if someone else was there.

"Hold it, Stilinski."

Once he's aware that someone might be downstairs with him, Erica does nothing to conceal her presence, stepping out from the dark with a teasing smile on her face. She doesn't look it, but beneath that hard, mischievous shell, there's a whiny little puppy begging for some attention. Just a little pet, a little touch, a little stroke here and there and this way and back. She's aching for him, but she's not the type to show it. People ache for her, thank you very much.

"You've been stinking up the whole school all day," she states, crossing the room to where Stiles is in a few long steps. She doesn't touch him, doesn't even invade his personal space - but that's a personal choice, because if she moves any closer, shes' going to jump on him, plain and simple. "Getting me all hot and bothered. Not very fair, is it?"

She grins, licking her lips defiantly. With a wink and a sultry voice, she says in a whisper:

"Fix it."

He hadn't known. Not actively, anyway. He'd thought he could get away with it, get away with slinking away back to his house where there were only human noses that wouldn't pick up anything. He'd almost forgotten how many wolf noses were in the school. It idly made him wonder if Boyd and Isaac could pick him up as well and what it had done to him.

But that thought vanished quickly, shoved aside by the blonde in front of him, her own scent reacting and teasing and making him feel like she was touching him when she wasn't. He took a breath, holding it to try to keep from scenting her. God, she smelled good. Even when he wasn't ready to fuck a hole into a wall, she smelled good. Like something he wanted to taste.

Now? Now he wanted to roll in her. On her. Cover himself in her and touch and taste and lick and do everything he probably shouldn't. The wink had him throbbing behind his jeans, his eyes flicking between her lips and her eyes. "Fix... Fix it?"

"Fix it," she repeats after him, nodding her head with that same flirtatious smile she'd been wearing since the start. Erica's been a werewolf longer than Stiles, so she has just the slightest bit more control than him, but it's not a lot. An inch, not a mile. But an inch can take her a long way, and she reaches out, fingertips brushing the height of his chest.

She pulls back quickly enough, begins circling him - a predator watching her prey with a sultry eye. In her rotation, she shrugs out of her leather jacket, revealing the lingerie-looking shirt she was wearing beneath. All very usual for Erica, but normally used as just a tease, not something she was willing to commit to. This time, this time it was different, though. Animalistic - something she couldn't fight, even if she wanted too. Which, on a normal basis, she doesn't want to anyway.

She's been Stiles' for a long, long time. Before she was a werewolf, she was always his. The only difference is now there's a name to put on it - mate. Bond. Her mate, not necessarily mutual, which is fine.

"Smell that? That's me," she approaches him from the side, lips placed near his ear - close to touching it. "You did it. Take responsibility."

"I -- I did... huh?" He couldn't think past her voice in his ear, a shudder going through him that only heightened his senses. He could pick up her scent, not that he couldn't before, strong, musky, female. His nostrils flared as he scented her, his hands curling into fists as he tried not to touch her. Even if she was sending out all the signals, god, was she sending out signals, he didn't want to be the grabby, clingy guy.

That rationale of his brain was slowly drifting away, leaving him in the basement of the school with a werewolf who smelled like she might as well be waving a red flag while he tried to ignore the raging hard on he had.

He whimpered as he caught sight of the shirt when she walked around him; something lacy and fragile looking that he could almost visualize ripping off her. Or pushing up to bare breasts to him. He throbbed in his jeans, almost bending over at the intensity of it.

"Take... what... Uh..." For all that he gave advice to Scott on relationships and women, Stiles was very, very inexperienced in the actual act. If it didn't involve his hand, lotion, and a box of tissues, he was out of his depth.

"You're so oblivious," she mutters out, rolling her eyes with a hand on her popped out hip. Only he would be like this when a girl is practically throwing herself at him. She already knows he can smell her desire, so what's he so worried about?

Erica shimmies out of her spaghetti straps - not removing her top any more than that, because she wants him to do it. She wants him to touch her, to help her, to take of her clothes and let her believe that - for one short instant - there might be a future, a love for them. There wasn't, and she had accepted that a long time ago, but a girl can dream a little dream.

To make it just a little bit worse, she unbuttons, unzips, the top of her jeans, revealing a small bit of lacy, black underwear. Again, not helping along with any of that - she wants him to do, wants him to want to do it.

"I'm giving you permission. You get that, right?" Eyebrows ceased together, she puts her hands on either of his shoulders. "You really want to waste it?"

Stiles wasn't a stupid guy. He picked up on most subtle cues without having to have a diagram drawn out for him. In this case, he needed a diagram and hand holding and outlined footsteps for him. Not because he didn't know what to do (He'd seen more than enough pornos. Hey, the pizza's here), but because he needed to know it was her decision and not him just projecting what he wanted onto her.

His nostrils flared again when he saw the black lace of her panties, his eyes lifting to hers when she grabbed his shoulders. He heard her. He computed it. He understood exactly what she was saying. But it took him that extra minute or five to make sure that it was filtered properly. That he hadn't put things where they hadn't been and that she was holding him, not pushing him away.

"I get it." That was all he got out before his arms went around her waist, pulling her in tight while his mouth found hers. Her taste only heightened what he was feeling, making him walk forward with her until there was a wall, a post, an invisible barrier, anything that he could hold her to to keep from knocking them to the floor.

It's kind of a magical thing when the guy you've had a crush on since forever kisses you for the first time. One of those take-your-breath away moments, to be honest. It's a moment she was positive would never come - even after her change into the beautiful little flower she is now. Stiles was always into Lydia and that was all well and good, fine. She's gorgeous, why wouldn't he be?

She smiles into the kiss, honestly living out every love-dove fantasy she's ever had. She lets him back her up, lets him dominate her just a bit, until she backs up onto a sturdy desk. Erica takes the pleasure in sitting up on it, her hands holding the sides of his neck to keep kissing her, even if they can't breath, even if they have bigger needs. He's kissed her and she's obsessed - she never wants to break away.

... And that's a nice romantic sentiment, but she does need to breath eventually. It's just compulsion. Her eyes automatically fall on the floor and, well, it seems like she just can't wipe the smile off her face. Girly and dumb and not all fitting her personality or the rush of werewolf tendencies they both had. She'd get to that, sure, as soon as she got something off her chest ( hint: not her shirt but that can go too).

"You know, I've actually wanted to do that for a really long time."

She was talking when she should have her mouth fused to his. He looked down at her mouth, watching it form words as his fingers snuck in under the hem of her shirt, lifting it up so he could touch smooth, bare skin. "You should have. At any time."

It was honest. If she'd come up to him and planted one on him, he would have responded. How could he not? She hadn't been ugly before she'd been bitten, just quiet and meek. After? She was like this sex kitten that he, yes, had multiple dreams about. Hot and sticky dreams that had him waking needing to shower. He was only human.

Or had been. Now, he was so much more and he had an armful of willing female that smelled like she was already his. "Here?" It was a question as well as an offer. If they could put a cap on it, he could take her home, not have it be on a desk in the basement of the school where anyone could come in. If was a big question, though.

She wants to retort with something like, 'I had pimples, you were too cute for me,' but she decides against it. Not only would it ruin the mood, but it was a little... private. Not something she'd share with just anyone, even someone she's been crushing on since forever. She wasn't weak, not anymore.

"Here," she repeats after him, leaning in for another kiss. Well, if he'd given her the okay, she definitely wasn't going to waste this opportunity. Sure, in her mind when she lost her virginity (shhhhh) to Stiles it was a bit more romantic, but this was fine. The place didn't matter, just him was all that was important. "Here is good."

And there's a few things she needs to tell him about werewolf sex that Derek had warned her about, but... cross that road when they get to it, right? For now, she's just letting herself love him, tugging him down on her, body to body and chest to chest, fingers lightly running through the extent of his short hair.

A hand leaves from under the warmth of her shirt to grip at a leg, pulling it up as his nails slide down her thigh to her ass. He hadn't been told about any kind of werewolf sex, most people assuming he'd just pine forever over Lydia.

He'd moved on. His base instincts knew a losing cause when they saw one and as a werewolf, he couldn't delude himself that Lydia might have any kind of reciprocal feelings towards him. His nose told him that.

His nose was also telling him that Erica did. She was soaked in need and arousal and Stiles was too turned on to realize he was giving off his own waves of it. He'd thought it was just time to go home, pick a porno, and have some alone time.

This felt so much more intense. Like being alone wouldn't have satisfied him. Like he might have gone out right after and hunted down someone that smelled like she did. His nails dug into the meat of her ass as he pulled himself in between her legs, his eyes turning gold as he started to movie past light arousal into something heavier, less easy to pull himself out of.

God help anyone that tried to interrupt them.

There's a sensual laugh that bubbles in her throat when he grips her so tightly, head rolling backwards to expose her fair neck. She didn't really think he had it in him, but lo and behold, he's just full of surprises. Ones she doesn't mind, not a bit. She's happy to see what else he has in store.

Lightly, Erica pulls her hips in snug to his, feeling the faintest outlines of his cock behind his jeans. It makes her wonder if it's because of her or just because it's his heat time, but she doesn't focus on it. He's into this and willing, and that's all Erica cares to think about. All she can think about in order to hold on to her brief glimpses of sanity.

Keeping her hips close, but leaning her body away, Erica wiggles around to pull her own shirt off of her body, exposing a black bra beneath it's hold. She's not embarrassed or anything, and that blush on her cheeks is just from arousal, and nothing more.

At least, that's what she's telling herself. In truth, Stiles has always had this effect on her, and him seeing her nearly naked... well, it's a dream come true, for starters.

His eyes watched as she shimmied out of her shirt, desire thick around him as he saw the black of her bra. She was undressing for him. It rang in his head as the hand not gripping her thigh slid up her front to close around the globe of one breast. His fingers felt the lace, his hand gently squeezing her breast as he lowered his head and licked over the top of the one he held, lifting it into his mouth as his tongue painted her skin, then the bra, with his saliva.

She tasted like she smelled; hot and musky and in need. The hand on her ass pulled her in closer as he ground his cock against her, still trapped behind layers of material.

She mewls out his praises - unlike the little wolf she is, sounding more like a kitten than any other animal. With her smile still ever-evident on her lips, Erica cradles his head in closer to her bosom, not suffocating him, but telling him it's fine he kisses more - that she'd like it if he touched her more and more. Not that she's complaining with what he's giving - she'll take it, of course - but animal needs are kicking in and her inner wolf claws at her insides, begging to get let out. Pawing for just that little extra touch.

A hand reaches down the extent it can of his back, tugging his shirt up as much as possible, without the necessary removal of mouth on breast. She doesn't want him to stop, but at the same time, she wants him naked. It the now-time.

"Stiles," she calls out, touching his cheek lightly. "Take your clothes off."

Her scent is heavy in the air, mingling in with the one he's unknowingly giving off. His hands are moving around to the back of her, fingers working on undoing the bra. There's a comment made towards him to get more undressed, but he's busy.

The clasp finally comes free and he pulls her bra off, mouth covering her nipple with an eager sound. He sucks on it, teeth edging over it, lower body rocking between her spread thighs. He needs her in a way that should be painfully obvious, a growl slipping past teeth lightly clamped around her skin.

She's silly puddy in his hands, melting, head falling back as she lets out a half-growl from the rumble of her chest. She seeks more warmth from his mouth, chest popping out like she wants him to hold the entire thing. Which - and she's not bragging here - is kind of a lot. Even if she's mad at him for not stripping at all, she's okay with this. Yep. This is just fine by her standards, and she makes that known with the loud moans that escape the confines of her lips.

But sex is a two way street, and Erica is beyond prepared to do her half of the deed. Speedy fingers traverse down his sides, falling on the rim of his pants. She'd ask it if was okay, but really there's no way it's not okay, and starts stripping him herself, delicately picking the button off his pants, sliding the zipper as down as it'll go. A hand flattens against his cock, and she sighs, squeezing him.

The touch to his aching cock has his mouth coming off her so he can let out a loud and drawn out groan. His head lifts to look at her even as he rocks into her grip, eyes dark with what he needs and what he knows, on some level he's going to get.

"Shit. Erica." Her name comes out like a whine and he's moving his hands down to tug impatiently on her pants. There's a moment when he remembers that she wanted his shirts off and he takes a heartbeat to do that, pulling them off over his head and dropping them to the side before he's back to trying to get her pants undone and off. Off. Off now. He's already leaking at the tip, boxers bearing a large wet spot that only gets bigger from her touch.

"I like when you say my name like that."

Erica hops off the counter for a moment, helping him squeeze her firm ass out of equally tight jeans. She bends over before him, taking the liberty of removing her jeans from her legs - high heels broken away from her feet. While she's down, she figures she might as well get rid of his pants too, wiggling them down his hips, down each leg.

But she doesn't come back up - not right now at least. Once his pants are gone, she moves the band of his boxers down, springing him free from his cotton confines. Without much warning - or any warning at all, really - he's inside her mouth, Erica's head bobbing back and forth to a hasty rhythm. She's not experienced, but that doesn't mean she's bad, just not as daring as she otherwise might be. Tongue darting out, she licks him, smiling against the tip of his dick.

She was getting undressed and that was exactly what he wanted right then. He could pick up her scent; thick and heady in the air as it mingled with his own. It made his mouth water and he wanted her to hurry so that he could get his hands back on her, along with the rest of his body.

Then she had her mouth on him and the universe imploded. His hand shot down to grab her head, fingers tangling in her hair as there was a very definite shriek that came from him. The sudden warmth and wetness enveloping him had been a shock, but he didn't need much time to recuperate, to thrust into her mouth as he looked down at her with his mouth agape.

"Jesus. Jesus Christ. Shit. God damn it, Erica." It was a litany of curses mingled in with her name as he stared down at her, watching her smiling mouth tease him, taste him.

It takes everything she's got not to choke on him because she wants to laugh so bad. Everything about him is so... Stiles, it's a sensory overload in the best ways possible. He's funny and cute and unbelievable sexy right now, Erica's not sure what keeps her down here instead of up there with him.

Once he thrusts, however, Erica loses her teasing smiles and focuses entirely on him and his pleasure. She grabs a hold of both his hips, fingernails digging into his flesh - enough to leave a mark, but not draw blood. She keeps rocking against him, tongue pressing against him in its entirety, seeming like it's trying to taste and reach as much of him as possible. She can smell him now more than ever, and she feels her need for touches grow more and more hard to ignore.

A hand leaves his hip, and chooses instead to press against the inside of her thighs, fingers tracingup and down her slit - wet and slick, and oh-so begging for attention, it's almost painful to have him not touching her.

When she touches herself, he grabs the back of her head to try to still her, to keep from pushing in further, even though that's exactly what he wants to do. But he also wants her. Needs her. Wants to bury his face in her body and lick and suck and taste every part of it.

He's shaking, trembling with the effort not to keep pressing into her mouth. But he stops, looking down at her as he licks his lips. "Let me. Let me do that. I need to." He can almost taste her in the air, making him lick his lips again. "Please."

When he stops her, she just looks up to him, a confused look on her face. Did he not like what she was doing? Well, he'd probably be the only guy in history to not like a blowjob, but that's fine, she'd change it into something he did like, because this is all about him - it's always just about him.

Then he's begging her and her confused face morphs into a surprised one. She can't imagine why anyone would want to do that - especially with her - but she shrugs, standing again, moving to sit back down on the desk. But she doesn't leave him alone, wouldn't even if he asked her to, and her hand falls back to his cock, pumping slowly, teasingly.

"Fine by me, chief." And she winks again, kissing him fiercely. Against his lips, she mutters. "Give me your worst."

He can taste himself on her lips, the salty taste of his precome there when he slides his tongue over hers. His hand slides up her inner thigh, fingers looking for the slickness of her. He finds it, her pussy almost dripping and he feels himself throb in her hand.

He moves to push her back, to make her lie down as he lowers himself in between her spread legs. Her scent is something he can taste when he's right in front of her, his tongue coming out to lick along the inside of her thigh, tasting her juices and the salt of her skin.

In a mimicry of her earlier action, he moves in with no further warning, mouth fitting over her cunt and his tongue moving to lick past her labia into her entrance, dragging up to find and lick over her clit.

She does fall back on the table when directed, but jolts up halfway once his tongue connects to her flesh. She cries out in pure ecstasy when he delves deeper inside her, hands falling to his head to pull him in closer, never let him go.

She wants to scream at him for not having any hair she can tug onto, but the only screams that come out are wordless, filled with passionate desire - definitely not angry. If she was joking about all this before, teasing him as some joke, she's definitely not now, and her hips rock the smallest bit against his lips, knees tugging his shoulders in closer, needing just more and more and more like a greedy kitten.

"Damn it, Stiles," she moans out, laying back down on the desk, hands falling on each of her breasts. "You're sure you're a - fuck - virgin?"

Yes, he was sure. Painfully sure. He'd wanted to get rid of that status claim for a while, but he hadn't found any takers.

Until now.

Stiles also watched more porn than was healthy for a growing boy, and as such, he'd picked up a few pointers on how to do things. It didn't hurt that he'd actively gone looking for tips and advice, reading forums that went into explicit detail from the female perspective and what it was they enjoyed and preferred. There were a few basics that he'd memorized, knowing from his reading that different women liked different things. It was just a matter of finding out which of those pertained to Erica.

The sounds she was making only had him working more fervently at her, tongue, lips, even teeth playing over the sensitive skin of her labia, clit, and the opening to her that he wanted to delve into with more than just his mouth.

So many Ericas lately, I'm in heaven. 3-2 okay for you?

more than okay!

Wonderful =)

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