bakerstreet | Alpha/Beta/Omega Meme

Alpha/Beta/Omega Meme

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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Arthur's cock twitches against his belly when Merlin snaps back at him, but again, it's enough to put him in his place for the time being. He'd never thought that he'd be able to find enjoyment in submission, but in this, with Merlin there, Arthur can't imagine anything other than giving himself to him. The easy spread of his cheeks reaffirms those hazy thoughts: Arthur's hole twitches, more wetness leaking to make it slippery and glossy;

"Gods, Merlin!"

But it ends on a low whine of pleasure as his rim flutters against Merlin's tongue. He fists the sheets and presses back, shameless in his begging for more, and who would have ever thought that something so dirty feel so completely bone-deep good?

"Please ... please ..." Because what more is there to say? Begging has never seemed so natural, and Arthur needs more of his tongue. His fingers. His cock. Anything to fill up the space inside him that's been waiting for an Alpha ...

No. Waiting for Merlin.

Merlin moans against Arthur's skin. He's never heard anything as good as his pleading; everything about Arthur's body language is desperation and hunger and he wants to breathe it in, soak in it, make Arthur's his so that hunger will always be his to satisfy--

He wants to knot him, bite him, bond him.

He knows he's getting a long way ahead of himself.

Putting his mouth on Arthur's hole doesn't feel dirty. The heat has turned it into something else, a completely sexual orifice, wet and inviting. He presses his lips tight to his rim and pushes his tongue into him, tasting the thick sweet scent of his copious wetness. He reaches down with one hand to play with Arthur's cock almost as an afterthought, feeling it hard and hot in his fist.

Merlin's moans reverberate through Arthur to puddle heat behind his balls, and he squirms there against the sheets as he gives more and more of himself to his Alpha. He can't wait to feel him pressed over him, mounting him, using him and filling him up ... but gods, that would mean ending this, and he's not sure he ever wants to.

Of course, nothing could quite prepare him for the sudden press of Merlin's tongue inside him. His eyes snap wide before closing tightly as he sobs into fine-spun sheets, his thighs trembling either side of Merlin with the effort of keeping him up. He'd thought his rim impossibly sensitive but this, this is torture, and a second later he's moving to keep his cheeks held open with his own hands. It's inappropriate and obscene but so, so right: Arthur makes an offering of himself in the most intimate way possible.

Dizzy with need, he hisses sharply when clever fingers fondle his cock. He'd almost forgotten it—his pleasure seems almost entirely within his hole—but a bead of pre-come pearls at the tip all the same as Merlin plays with it.

Merlin catches it on his fingertips, smearing that hot translucence over the sensitive tip of Arthur's prick. It feels small in his hand compared to his own but it's perfect, it feels right and it fits into his curled fingers so beautifully that he's never ever going to want to touch anyone else this intimately. It's a thought that lodges in his heart and he knows it's not just the momentary infatuation of a first time.

Arthur's not just the first Omega who happened to ask. He's his.

"You taste amazing," he says when he lifts his head, voice hoarse but softened with something like awe, and he notices for the first time that Arthur's holding himself open wide for him. It's good; now he can use both hands, fondling his balls and rubbing his thumb along the tight smooth skin between his sac and his arse. "You're amazing, Arthur, I can't - "

Can't stop. Would probably choose not to, if he could. He shifts up onto his knees and covers Arthur's body with his own, bearing down on Arthur with his modest weight and pressing his face into the sweat-damp nape of his neck.

His mouth waters. He wants so badly to bite but he resists (for now, the voice of his Alpha grumbles), restricting himself to sucking hard enough to leave a bruise.

Arthur bemoans the loss of Merlin's tongue privately when he finally pulls away, lust-drunk on how good it felt to be kissed so intimately. He hears him talking, soft and ragged, and it stirs something low in Arthur's chest; so much so that when he moves over him he reaches back to catch one of his hands in his own. An anchor. They're in this together, and gods, it is amazing, it's all he needs.

He stretches languorously beneath him when Merlin settles, their bodies flush. Taking his weight is easy—Arthur is strong—but more than that, it's a pleasure, and he's all but purring as he arches his arse to rub back against his crotch. He's soaked between his cheeks both from his own wetness and Merlin's mouth; it's perfect, how it should be, how he should always be for Merlin.

Wet and ready.

Lips brush over the nape of his neck. Arthur squeezes Merlin's hand hard, torn between stopping him and encouraging him to bite, but then his Alpha makes the decision for him by setting his mouth against him and sucking. It's cruel, so very cruel for him to tease them both like this, in a parody of something Arthur's never wanted more. He shivers beneath him, spreading his thighs wider for Merlin's body.

"Merlin," he gasps, his own lips red from where he's bitten them. Arthur glances back over his shoulder, his eyes black and soft and pleading. He wants to feel Merlin's teeth; he wants a taste, even if he can't have it. "Merlin, I need— harder."

Merlin looks a mess, face flushed, sweat plastering his hair to his brow, pupils huge and dark and yet he looks and feels more focused than he's ever been. There's nothing else in the world that matters in the least beyond the corners of this bed; an army could march on the Citadel and Merlin feels like he would just destroy them with a wave of the hand so he could go back to bed. Back to Arthur.

Yet he has to give himself a moment to think when Arthur speaks. Harder means teeth, and he isn't sure that he can stop himself going all the way (do it, bond him, claim him, who can really stop you taking what you want?) Finally he just presses a kiss to the bruise he's left.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. But an apology's not enough, he wants to distract him, and to do that he pulls back a little so he can push three long fingers into the drooling wetness of Arthur's hole.

Merlin's right, an apology isn't enough, but Arthur doesn't have enough time to protest and persuade. Those three fingers of distraction choke him off before he opens his mouth: the Alpha knows what's best, Merlin knows what's best, and Arthur squirms and gasps for air as they press further in and stretch.

Had he been anything other than an Omega he wouldn't have been able to take them; it would have been an agonising push; but the wetness of his hole and the eagerness of that ring of muscle sucks them in greedily.

He's done this to himself. He knows how good it should feel, but the sheer fact that this time it's Merlin's fingers inside him? It has Arthur fraying at the seams. Panting eagerly, the prince adjusts the tilt of his hips to encourage them a little deeper. If he can't sample the bite then he'll demand this of him at the very least, and he does, in the roll of his hips and the low groan pulled from his lips.

"Come on," he breathes, squeezing tight around Merlin's fingers. "I won't break."

"I know you won't," he whispers, and his voice trembles when he feels Arthur so tight and slick on his fingers. "You - gods. It feels like I could get my whole fist in here."

Just the thought of it - the idea of touching Arthur so intimately, feeling his stretched rim around his wrist - hits him with a wave of lust so intense it almost knocks him over. He pushes a fourth finger inside, groaning at how easily he swallows it up, and pumps his hand against his Omega's hole in quick, deep strokes that make his arm ache almost instantly but he doesn't care.

"You're so greedy," he says, the wet noise of Arthur's fluids making him bright red. He sounds almost giddy, amazed and a little awed by this new side of Arthur coming to light.

Merlin isn't the only one weakened by his lusty words: Arthur moans into his forearm, uncharacteristically needy, as more of that wetness slicks his hole, his eyes vacant and glassy with need as he presses back onto those fingers. He knows he could do it—he could take anything Merlin saw fit to give to him—because he is greedy, and all he wants is to be filled by as much of him as possible. His tongue, his fist, his cock ...

Arthur's balls squeeze tight and his prick dribbles just a little. He puts his weight through one elbow and reaches down to play with his cock; not quite rubbing, not quite stroking, but touching and fondling the head. His whole body shakes with it when he rubs the pad of his finger over the tip;

"Let me come." He cusses on a groan, his mouth a bruised 'o' of pleasure. "Merlin— Gods, Merlin, please."

The wet sound of it is killing him. Arthur's hole is almost as noisy about it's pleasure as Arthur's mouth, thanks to the steady trickle of fluid keeping him slippery for Merlin's fingers.

Merlin considers that. He wants to fuck him when he's like this, writhing and overcome and desperate - but he's a pretty terrible Alpha, isn't he, if he can't drive his Omega to this peak at least twice?

He twists his fingers and fucks him harder, rubbing his thumb against the room though he doesn't dare do more than tease.

"Do it," he growls, panting against Arthur's skin. "Do it, come, make a mess, Arthur--"

Merlin's permission is all he needs. Arthur sobs with relief, fisting his cock the instant his approval leaves his lips. He's been on the edge for too long; desperate for too long; and in the end all it takes is half a dozen fast pulls to push him that little bit further. His body bucks once, twice, and he squeezes impossibly tight around Merlin's fingers when he crests;

"Oh God, oh God—" But that's all he manages before his words taper out into breathy sex-slurred nonsense. Omegas don't produce as much semen as Alphas or Betas but that doesn't make his orgasm any less intense: Arthur's thighs shake and shiver as he spatters the sheets with his come, and his cock twitches between his fingers with each white-hot pulse.

Merlin's hand, of course, is soaking; shiny and wet like the backs of his thighs. Arthur sags against the mattress a moment later, each breath a laboured gasp, and his lashes flutter just barely as he puddles there in the aftershocks.

Christ. He's never come like that, never, and Merlin hasn't even fucked him yet.

Edited 2013-12-12 17:12 (UTC)

Merlin doesn't understand how he's still breathing, how this can possibly be happening, but it feels too visceral and too good to be real - he's had countless fantasies about Arthur, deep in the night, but none of them could even hold a candle to this.

He slowly, carefully, slides his fingers out of Arthur's twitching arse. He's absurdly wet now, slick almost to his knees, and when Merlin reaches down between his spread thighs to touch his cock he finds that he's still hard. The sensation of stiff flesh against his fingers makes him dry-mouthed, but it's inevitable, isn't it? He'll need more than this to get him through the heat.

He leans down to kiss the small of Arthur's back, tasting the sweat pooled there.

"I used to dream about this," he says softly, his hands sliding up and down Arthur's sides, thumbs snagging against his nipples. "Even when I thought you were an Alpha, I still...I still thought about knotting you. Or - or you me." He hides his burning face against Arthur's skin. "I sometimes - with my fingers."

Arthur grunts softly when his fingers slip from him, the barest hint of a frown creasing his brow. It's an odd sensation, to be suddenly empty after such a thorough finger-fuck, and part of him feels like insisting he keep two of those fingers curled inside him. Luckily for him he's far too breathless to put a proper sentence together just yet, so he lies there catching his breath while Merlin kisses sweet nothings into his skin.

"Mm."

He relaxes further under his touch, enjoying being pampered and stroked in the aftermath. It appeals to the Omega: he wants to curl up over his Alpha's chest until he can take it again, then again, but all of a sudden Merlin's pressing his face to Arthur's skin and confessing the silliest things.

"That's because you're a besotted idiot, Merlin." But his voice is warm, amused and kind, and he nudges at Merlin until he can turn over. When he's on his back he tugs at his Alpha until he's hovering over him within kissing distance. Arthur leans up to nip his lips, tasting the both of them mingled there, before lifting a hand to card through Merlin's damp and curling hair.

"... You wanted me badly enough that you would have let me knot you?" He pauses, a little of that old embarrassment seeping into his cheeks. "If I'd been able."

"It doesn't matter," Merlin says, the words stumbling out between quick hot little kisses. "Between you and I - it's better this way. We fit together, Arthur."

He doesn't think it ought to make a difference to Arthur as king, either, but that's an argument he doesn't want to court when he's feeling warm and easily distracted. And speaking of which, lowering himself down just a couple of inches lower presses his cock against Arthur's belly and the pressure makes him gasp.

"Oh." He would be happy to just rut against him, has to expend a huge amount of energy not to. "Arthur, please, I want to...I need to f-fuck you. Please."

Merlin accepts him. Arthur knows he does. He can feel it in those little kisses; in the stroke of his hands; in the reverence of his gaze; and Arthur runs his hands down the front of his chest before parting his thighs to ease him closer. As if he could ever refuse his Alpha—not when Merlin's pleasure is so deeply twined with his own. Not when they need this even more than they need the air they breathe.

"Then fuck me," he murmurs, chuckling breathlessly against his jaw. "Any way you want me. I'm yours, Merlin."

And even if he isn't, Arthur think that he'd quite like to be. Endless nights of discovering one another's bodies with each other; closing the door on the world, like tonight, and enjoying the natural pursuit of pleasure ...

Merlin. Just being with Merlin. Arthur aches between his legs; he needs him there.

"Just yours."

His.

Merlin feels a heady pulse of - not jealousy, exactly, more like a preemptive fear that surely someday someone else will bond with him. At best it'll be someone Arthur wants and at worst it'll be some dismal political arrangement when Arthur's inheritance is handed over to a younger brother.

Either way, Merlin doesn't know that he could take it. And God help him, he knows he could prevent it - one hard bite, the taste of Arthur's blood in his mouth and then Arthur's would be his, spoiled for any other Alpha.

He knows he can't.

But he knows he wouldn't refuse if Arthur asked, either.

He rocks back onto his heels, whining despite himself at the loss of closeness.

"Roll over."

If he only gets this once, he gets it properly. His Omega lying on his belly, back arched and arse high.

It's a fantasy for Arthur to hold on to. He hums in protest when Merlin moves away before realising what he wants; he likes it this way, Arthur notes, with his Omega prostrate and presenting to him. He shakes his hair out of his eyes before lifting a little higher than before, when Merlin put his mouth on his hole, allowing for a slightly more pronounced dip in his lower back.

He knows he must be a sight. He's still slick and hot between his legs from where Merlin's fingers opened him up, and the rim of his hole is swollen and red from those hard, fast thrusts. Arthur doesn't know whether it's those thoughts or simply the position that has his breath coming faster; this must be how dogs feel—the bitches in the kennels—but he doesn't seem to care.

All that matters is that Merlin fills him up until he's full; until his Alpha is satisfied. Arthur groans softly as more of that wetness runs down the back of his balls.

"Hurry up."

Pushy Omegas really are the worst, aren't they, Merlin.

Not in the least. Merlin wouldn't want him any other way, doesn't want to be anything but absolutely certain that Arthur wants this as much as he does.

And besides, if he wasn't pushy then he wouldn't be Arthur.

"Shut up," he groans, just a little snappish. "I'm getting to when I get to it."

He has to give himself a moment to understand and appreciate what he's about to do. But only a moment, and then he's shifting closer to rub the leaking head of his prick against Arthur's hole, just one slow slide against him where he's unbearably hot and slippery.

"Mine," he groans. "All mine, Arthur."

The rub becomes a slow push, and then inch by slow inch he's inside and sobbing with the delicious intensity of it.

Well. The first thing Arthur notices is that it's nothing like his fingers ... but then again, that was to be expected, since Merlin's cock is thicker, longer, heavier. The stretch is sharp and immediate. Arthur bites down on his lower lip when Merlin pushes, then pushes harder, before finally breaching that furl of muscle to sink slowly inside. His breath flares harsh against the sheets as he bears the dull ache as best he can ...

But then it's gone, leaving only exquisite fullness in its place. After all, how could this ever hurt an Omega? He was made to take Merlin's cock as Merlin himself was made to give it to him; Arthur groans, spreading his knees wider as sweat beads around his temple.

"Oh ...oh fuck ..." And Arthur doesn't like to cuss, but right now? He's got nothing else. It's an intimacy he's never known and it's too good, fuck, it's too good, and he nudges his hips back just a fraction as Merlin's words pour over him.

"Y-Yeah." He gasps, and his hole flutters around the base of Merlin's cock. Already he wants him deeper, and his body knows how to make it happen. One hand reaches back to curl around Merlin's thigh; "Gods, fuck me—I promise, Merlin, I'm yours."

"I know," Merlin pants, and it isn't just words. He doesn't know how he's lived up until now, without this. He doesn't know how he'll be able to get up in the morning tomorrow knowing he might never have it again.

It's agonising to be as careful as he is, pressing in slow and deep until Arthur's hole swallows the still not fully swollen knot at the base. He can already feel it starting to expand in a way he's never experienced, not when he's been working himself with his hands in the dark, and it thrills him and frightens him because he has no idea how any of this is going to unfold or how it's going to feel.

"Tell me what it's like," he gasps, flattening his chest against Arthur's back. "Talk to me, please."

It's the swell of Merlin's knot that finally has Arthur writhing and pulling at the sheets. He asks him to talk to him but he can't: he doesn't know how to put into words what he's feeling inside that intimate space. He whines once, impossibly relieved when Merlin presses up against his back;

"I don't ... Merlin ..." He shakes his head, surging his hips back in minuscule increments just to feel the rub of his cock inside him. Arthur feels slick and tender-soft, like he's hugging his cock from the inside out, and he shakes and sweats beneath him as air hisses through his teeth.

"Full ... it feels—" For a moment he thinks he's too wrecked to continue; Arthur's noises are animal, much like the rest of him at present. He sobs just the once before forcing himself to continue. "Incredible. Hot. Need ... fuck, need you inside, always. Your cock—fuck me open every night."

Arthur groans, tempted to spread his cheeks for him again, but instead he dips down so his chest touches the mattress and curls his hands around the backs of his knees. It's an offering; a position he never wants anyone but Merlin to see him in. Arthur wants to be his.

"Yes."

It's all he can say. How could he have any answer besides that? He's shivering all over just at the thought of it, of having this most intimate part of Arthur completely for himself, whenever he wants. Every night.

Even though he's never done this before it comes easy, reflex and inborn instinct driving the way he rocks his hips, pumping into him with long deep thrusts that make his balls slap against Arthur's. It's so good, too good, and he can feel his knot swelling so rapidly that he's only going to be able to manage a few more thrusts before--

"I'm going to knot you," he gasps. "I - oh, God, I need to - "

"Do it - do it Merlin," Arthur pleads, surging with each of Merlin's thrusts. He needs it - the very idea of his Alpha pulling out early has him wild with objection - and he squeezes his eyes tightly closed as they bring each other closer and closer to completion. Merlin's knot; Merlin's seed; Arthur wants to lay claim to it all. For a mad moment he wants everyone to know who it all belongs to.

"All of it," he groans, spreading his thighs wider still. Each slap of skin against skin presses a bolt of pleasure through his own cock; has his hole clenching tight around him to swallow down every inch of his cock. "Gods, keep me ripe with it. I want ... I want to feel you in me for days."

He's never felt so used - never knew it could feel so good - because he knows Merlin will be there afterwards to wipe the sweat from his brow and the come from his thighs.

Edited 2013-12-12 23:19 (UTC)

If Merlin wasn't already completely and utterly sold on this, it's the desperation and hunger in Arthur's voice that would do it, the filthy things he never dared to hope he'd hear the other man say.

- keep me ripe with it - want to feel you in me for days -

He manages one more deep rough thrust, the sound of his knot pulling out of Arthur so loud and obscene that he doesn't know how the whole castle doesn't hear it - and then he's back inside him and the sensation of Arthur's hole stretching to let him in and then shrinking to seal around the base of his cock feels not just incredibly good but incredibly right. This is where he's meant to be, with his Omega, and the feeling of lust and relief alike has him pouring his seed into Arthur's body.

When he's alone, there's a lot of it, the sort of amount he's grateful he can get rid of with a light abuse of his incomparable power as a sorcerer. But this makes the fruit of his solo excursions seem like a standpipe does to a waterfall. Seconds pass and he's still coming and all he can do is gasp through it and rock his hips in tiny little grinding movements against Arthur's backside.

Arthur whimpers when he pulls back, his hole reluctant to let Merlin go, but then he's pushing back in and stretching him wide enough to have his toes curling and his head bowing. He clamps down on his knot to hold him there when he feels his body begin to shudder into orgasm. There's a speechless moment where he can do nothing but gasp into the sheets as Merlin finally comes: the heat of it it near painful, and the heavy spurts have him shaking there beneath him.

Nothing's ever felt so easy. So natural; so right to bear; and he barely notices he's coming a second time himself until he feels the drizzle against his stomach. His own pleasure is less urgent this time and when he comes (painful and untouched) it's just a small stream, but he whimpers—fucking whimpers with each little grind of his Alpha's hips.

"Please ... Merlin please ..."

But he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please stay, he thinks, or please keep filling me, or please don't stop, but he can't manage much of anything beyond the softness of his wrecked begging.

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please excuse any and all dopey errors made by my phone's autocorrect :x

Absolutely not. By which I mean of course, my love. :')

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