#cate dunlap

You’re barely holding it together—sweaty, flushed, radiating heat and pheromones so strong they’re practically buzzing in the air around you. The professor could hardly even make it through the lecture with you panting in the back row like you were going to drop to the floor and knot someone on the linoleum. Girls were squirming. Boys were glaring. Everyone was staring. And you? You were seeing red—because none of them were your omega.

You storm out moments later, half-hard and fully deranged, heading straight to Cate’s dorm like some sort of heat-seeking missile. Don’t knock. Don’t text.

Cate’s dorm smells like her—cinnamon, pheromones, something sweet and intoxicating—and you nearly black out the second you walk in. The door clicks shut behind you, but you barely register it. All you know is your omega is lounging on her bed in nothing but your old tee and a pair of lace panties, hair pulled back, bare thighs on display.

Cate doesn’t even look surprised. She’s been waiting for this, after all.

She just tilts her head, all smug and sweet, and says, “Let me guess. You scared another TA.”

It’s not fair—how smug she is. How ready. How wet. The scent hits you like a sucker punch to the gut.

Your vision tunnels.

You groan. Loud. Low. Wrecked. Already palming yourself through your jeans, hips twitching, trying to resist the urge to mount right then and there.

“I need you,” you grit out, voice so rough it could sand paint off a wall. “It’s bad this time, baby—fuck, you smell so good already, I—”

Cate sets her book down with a soft thud and rises slowly, walking over with all the casual confidence of someone who knows her alpha’s on the verge of going feral.

“You know what happens when you fuck me like that during rut,” she murmurs, standing toe-to-toe with you. “You think you’re the only one who gets knocked sideways by pheromones?”

You press your foreheads together. “I know. I know. But I can’t—can’t touch anyone else. Can’t even think about anyone else, Cate, I swear—”

“I know that, dummy,” Cate purrs, smirking. “That’s why I wore your shirt to bed last night. That’s why I’ve got slick on my thighs already. You think I didn’t plan for this?”

You whine—whine—and practically drop to your knees right there. Cate catches your chin before you can, holding you in place, tilting your head like she’s inspecting a prize.

“Oh, you’re so fucked,” Cate whispers, smile sharpening. “You’re gonna put a baby in me if you’re not careful.”

Your pupils blow wide. Your cock throbs.

“Don’t fucking tease me, Cate.”

“I’m not,” Cate says, breathlessly delighted. “You’re the one who loses control and fucks me through my little dorm mattress until I’m crying for mercy. You’re the one who sets off my heat with those stupid growls and that knot you never pull out.”

“Off,” you growl, and you don't mean yourself.

Cate giggles, already reaching for the hem of the tee. “God, you’re so easy when you’re like this.”

You surge forward and grab her, hands under the shirt before it’s even over Cate’s head, palms skating up warm, flushed skin. Cate squeals, breathless and delighted, as she’s lifted clean off the ground and shoved up against the wall.

“Don’t play with me,” you hiss into her neck, pupils blown and body trembling. “You knew what you were doing. Sitting in here, marinating in pheromones. Wearing my old fucking shirt to bed.”

Cate wraps her legs around your waist and grinds down against the hard bulge pressing through your jeans. “Knew it’d drive you crazy. Wanted to see how long you’d last.”

“I got kicked out of class,” you snarl. “Professor asked if I was having a medical emergency. I almost took my cock out in the middle of a fucking lecture, Cate—”

“Poor baby,” Cate purrs, tugging at your curls, tilting your head back to kiss you. “Gonna feel so much better once you’re inside me.”

That breaks something in you.

Your mouth crashes over Cate’s, hard and claiming. Your teeth knock together. Cate moans and claws at your back. You don't even bother with foreplay—just tear her panties down mid-kiss and shove your hand between Cate’s legs.

“Dripping,” you groan. “Fuck. You’re gonna make me—”

“Not yet,” Cate gasps. “Want your knot.”

“You’ll get it.” You kiss Cate again, dizzy with need. “You’re made for it.”

Cate lets herself be hauled to the bed and thrown down like a ragdoll. You’re stripping with trembling hands, the air thick with heat and rut and the pull of two bodies designed to wreck each other.

Cate’s thighs are slick and parted, fingers already between them like she can’t help herself. She watches you crawl over her like a beast, mouth parted, eyes blown wide.

“I missed this,” Cate whispers. “The way you fuck me when you’re not thinking straight. Like you’re afraid I’ll disappear if you don’t cum inside me right now.”

You growl and slam into her with a single brutal thrust.

Cate screams.

It’s too much. It’s perfect. She’s so full so fast she swears she blacks out for a second. You don't give her time to adjust, don't want to. You’re pounding into her like you need to split her open, hands bruising Cate’s hips, mouth buried in her neck.

“Mine,” you snarl. “My omega. You’re not going anywhere. You’re gonna cum just from my cock, aren’t you? From your alpha claiming you—”

Cate’s nails dig into her back. “Don’t stop. Baby, I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” you pant. “I want you to soak me. Want you to cum on me ‘til I’m the only thing your body remembers.”

Cate shatters.

She arches, gasps, convulses around her alpha’s cock, and that—that—is what breaks you.

With a guttural sound, you slam deep, hips locking, and knot inside her—throbbing, swelling, holding you together as you both cry out.

It’s messy. It’s desperate. It’s so good Cate can’t stop trembling.

And you?

You’re still rutting.

Because of course you are. That was only round one.

You cup Cate’s jaw, kissing her like it’s the only thing anchoring you to this plane of existence. “You’re gonna go into heat after this.”

Cate, breathless and dazed, giggles. “I know.”

You thrust again—slow, grinding, knot-deep. “I’ll fuck you through all of it.”

Cate moans, already drooling. “You better.”

You finally ease your knot free, the thick swell dragging against Cate’s stretched walls until she’s whining at the loss. Cate barely has time to catch her breath—barely has time to blink—before your hands are on her thighs, pushing—no, folding—her knees up until they’re pressed to her chest, looming over her with that wild, rut-drunk gleam in your eyes.

“Stay just like this,” you growl, bracing her calves over your shoulders and locking her in place. The position leaves Cate wide open, slick and swollen and glistening.

The bedsheets are a wreck, your scents tangled thick in the air, and Cate can feel the heat coiling tighter inside her with every second. She knows what’s coming. She wants what’s coming.

Your hands slide down her thighs, spreading her further open, pinning her to the mattress. “Round two,” you rasp, cock still slick and heavy against her folds.

Then you drive back in—one relentless, claiming thrust that buries you to the hilt.

Cate’s scream echoes, then cuts off into a moan that sounds like it was ripped from her throat. Your thick cock is seated deep, pressing against that aching, perfect spot inside Cate like it was made to live there.

“Fuck—fuck, baby—” Cate gasps, legs shaking as her back arches off the bed. “You didn’t even give me time—”

“I can’t,” you growl, already rutting into her with brutal, punishing thrusts. Your hands grip Cate’s thighs harder, holding her open, down, in place, because her body’s trying to curl up, trying to run from the onslaught. “I need you too much, baby, I need—”

Cate’s whimpering beneath you, fists twisting in the sheets, her body already drenched in sweat. Slick is everywhere—coating your cock, smearing between her thighs, soaking into the sheets below her. Cate's scent is flooding the room, growing richer, warmer, heavier—

“Oh, god,” Cate moans, eyes fluttering wide. “You’re—fuck, you’re pushing me into heat—”

You snarl in victory. “Good girl. Let it happen. Let me fuck it out of you.”

“Y-You can’t—” Cate gasps, nails raking down your back as another thrust steals the breath from her lungs. “You can’t just decide when my body goes into heat—”

“You’re mine,” you pant against her mouth. “Your body listens to me. Look at you. Already pulsing around me like you need to be knotted again.”

Cate lets out a high, keening whimper. Her thighs twitch. Her eyes go glassy. She’s spiraling, fast. That sharp edge of rut-fueled dominance has her omega instincts kicking in hard. She can feel the shift—her womb aching, her scent changing, her body soaking with fresh slick as her body begs for it.

“Gonna—gonna go into heat, I can feel it—” she gasps, clinging to you now, arms locking around your neck like she can’t bear even an inch of distance. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—”

You fuck her harder.

Your rhythm is brutal now—possessive, claiming, perfect. You’re saying things you don't even remember thinking, drunk off Cate’s scent and the way her walls flutter around you.

“Gonna fuck a baby into you,” you growl against her throat. “Gonna fill you ‘til it takes. I’ll keep you here, breed you over and over, make sure every inch of you smells like me—”

Cate sobs.

It’s too much. It’s everything. Her body seizes and breaks, pleasure exploding through her as her heat finally slams into her all at once. Her scent bursts in the air—ripe and fertile and so sweet it nearly takes you down with her.

“I’m—fuck, I’m in heat—”

“I know,” you snarl, hips slamming forward one last time as your knot catches and swells inside her.

Cate screams again, writhing helplessly as she’s locked in place, as you grind deeper, slower, claiming every inch.

“Mine,” you whisper, kissing the tears off Cate’s cheeks. “You’re mine. Gonna keep you full, gonna fuck you through every wave. Not stopping. Not for hours.”

Cate is trembling, ruined, already so deep in heat she can barely speak—but she moans, “Don’t. Please don’t.”

Cate is gone.

It’s not just heat—it’s deep heat. Full body, feral, dizzying. Her body is slicked in sweat, flushed and quivering, her thighs locked tight around your hips now, trying to drag you even deeper despite the already throbbing knot inside her.

“Alpha,” she pants, voice soft and desperate, “baby, I can’t—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” you growl, not slowing in the slightest. You’re still rolling your hips in that slow, maddening grind, your knot dragging thick and swollen against Cate’s most sensitive spots with every rock forward. “You will. You’re made for this.”

Cate lets out a sob that turns into a moan, then a choked little gasp as her body spasms around her alpha’s cock again. Another orgasm. She’s lost count. Everything is wet and aching and blissful in the most overwhelming way.

“I feel so full,” she whimpers.

You lean down, licking a slow stripe up Cate’s throat. “That’s because you are. My cock’s still leaking, baby. Your pretty little cunt’s just milking it out of me.”

Cate keens. Her legs jerk. She tries to twist her hips away—instinct, overstimulation—but you just growl and pin her down.

“No running,” you murmur, dragging your cock back with effort and thrusting again—deep, hard enough to make Cate cry out. “You know better.”

“Y-you’re gonna break me—”

“I’m gonna breed you.”

Another snap of your hips. Another wrecked little cry. Cate’s nails scrabble at your back, leaving streaks, but it only spurs you on.

“You smell like mine. Look at you, sweet girl—so far gone. Don’t even care who hears you anymore, do you?”

Cate’s mouth falls open. She shakes her head.

The bed’s creaking now. The sheets are soaked. Cate’s skin is flushed and shining and so pretty, you could cry.

You do. Just a little.

“I love you,” you whisper roughly, not even meaning to say it out loud. “I love you so fucking much. Gonna give you everything. Keep you knotted for days if I have to. Want my pup inside you so bad it hurts—”

Cate’s next orgasm hits like lightning.

She clamps down around your knot so tight it forces a shout from her throat, her entire body seizing beneath you. She cries out your name—broken, high, wrecked—and then shakes, full-body, as her heat crests into its sharpest wave.

Your hands shake. Your hips stutter. “Fuck, fuck—Cate—!”

Your knot throbs deep inside your omega’s body as you release again—pulsing warmth flooding Cate’s womb, your cock jerking as you pump her full another time.

Cate’s eyes flutter, unfocused and tear-glossed. “Still c-coming,” she whispers, delirious. “Still—oh god, baby, please, I c-can’t—”

You hold her through it.

Through the sobs. Through the shaking. Through the slick and sweat and aching, stretching fullness. Through the trembling cries and little hiccups as Cate finally slumps back, boneless and devastated in the best way.

And you still don't pull out.

You can’t. Knot’s too tight. Cate’s too hot and wet and needy around you. And your rut? Not even close to over.

You brush a strand of hair from Cate’s sticky forehead and kiss her cheek.

“Still with me?”

Cate blinks slowly, “…barely.”

You smile. Wild. Wrecked.

“Good. Because I’m not done yet.”

Cate’s body is glowing.

Not literally—but it feels like she’s been lit from the inside out, every inch of her flushed and warm and owned. Her thighs are trembling. Her hips ache. Her neck is covered in your marks, and her tummy is full—so full—of alpha cum.

And she wouldn’t change a single thing.

You haven't moved yet.

You’re still knotted together, Cate curled in your lap now, straddling you with shaky legs barely holding on, your cock still buried deep and locked tight inside her. The position started as desperation—Cate begging not to be pinned again, too sore and overstimmed to take another pounding—and has since melted into quiet affection.

Cate rests her head on your shoulder, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in lazy afterglow.

Your arms are wound around her back, one hand stroking up and down the ridges of her spine, the other cupping the back of her neck, fingers playing gently in her hair. You smell like rut still—strong and heady—but it’s soothed now, softened into something more tender.

Cate breathes you in. Lingers in it. Melts deeper.

“I feel like a fucktoy full of cum,” Cate mumbles against your collarbone, voice wrecked.

You chuckle, low and fond. “You are a fucktoy full of cum.”

“Don’t make me punch you. I don’t have the strength.”

“Could still pin you if you tried.”

Cate hums. Shifts just slightly and whines at the tug on her stretched heat-slick walls as your knot pulses in response.

“Okay, ow. Rude.”

“Sorry, sorry—” your voice dips instantly into apology, stroking her hair more gently. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” Cate snuggles closer. “Just—full.”

You kiss her temple. “I’ll never get tired of it.”

“Of what? Fucking me stupid?”

“No.” A pause. “Of seeing you like this. Soft. Warm. Mine.”

Cate bites her lip. Her chest aches in a different way now—gentle, blooming. “You’re the only alpha I’d ever let wreck me like that.”

You look down at her. Cate’s mascara is smudged, her lips are swollen, and her thighs are still twitching. She’s never looked more perfect.

“I’d rip my own cock off before I ever put it in anyone else,” you say softly.

Cate chokes on a laugh. “Romantic.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do,” Cate whispers, brushing her nose against your jaw. “I can feel it. Every time you knot me like that, I feel how much you love me.”

You press your lips to Cate’s forehead, eyes closed, holding her tighter. “I’d keep you in heat forever if I could. Just to have you like this.”

Cate sighs against you, completely surrendered. “Maybe I’d let you.”

Your scents are tangled now—indistinguishable. The room is thick with it. Alpha and omega. Claim and surrender. Love and need and the soft, afterburn glow of belonging.

You shift just enough to kiss her lips.

“Still not done,” you murmur. “Knot hasn’t gone down yet.”

Cate, dreamy and dazed, tilts her hips with a teasing smile. “Mm...later. ‘M sleepy.”

You hum a low, pleased sound, and roll your hips upwards slowly, keeping you both anchored, grounded. Cate hums right back, eyes slipping shut as warmth seeps through her sore muscles. You stay like that—tangled, locked, trading soft kisses and half-conscious murmurs—until the rhythm of your breathing syncs.

At some point, Cate drifts. She’s not sure when exactly—just that one second she’s kissing you, and the next she’s floating in the warm haze of post-release, her alpha’s hand heavy at her hip and the steady thump of your heartbeat under Cate’s cheek. The heat’s not gone, but for now, it’s sated. Contained. Safe.

Soft golden light filters through the blinds, casting warm stripes across the wreckage of the room—discarded clothes, upturned water bottles, the dent in the wall where Cate’s headboard cracked on day two. The air is heavy with the scene of omega-sweet heat, warm alpha musk, and the unmistakable smell of sex. Pungent and undeniable. The kind of thing that clings to the walls.

Neither of you know exactly how much time has passed. The days have blurred together—sunlight to darkness to sunlight again—since the first time you came to her dorm. Meals forgotten. Phones ignored. You haven’t stepped outside once. The world beyond these walls doesn’t exist right now; there’s only heat, and rut, and the endless loop of claiming and being claimed.

Cate stirs, tangled in your hoodie—well, one of them. It’s oversized and smells like sex and shampoo and leather and safety. Her hair’s a mess, her lips are kiss-swollen, and her inner thighs are glossy and raw, slick drying sticky against her skin.

And she’s still plugged.

You’re behind her, chest pressed to her back, one possessive arm slung over her waist, your knot swollen and seated deep inside her from the last lazy round sometime around dawn.

Cate hums sleepily. She shifts, instinctive, and whines when her movement tugs at her overworked walls.

“Easy, baby,” you murmur, voice gravel-rough from overuse and groaning. “Still locked in.”

“Mhm,” Cate slurs, eyes barely open, cheek squished into the pillow. “Kinda like it…”

You smile against her neck, kissing just below her ear. “Yeah?”

Cate nods slowly. “Feels safe. Like you’ll never leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you breathe, pressing closer. “You’re mine.”

Cate’s lashes flutter. “Gonna…keep me pregnant forever, huh?”

That makes you freeze.

Then groan.

“Oh fuck, don’t say things like that.”

Cate giggles—soft, dazed. “Why not? You keep talking about it.”

“You’re in heat,” you grit. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Cate rolls her hips just enough to feel the knot pulse.

“I do.” Her voice is a whisper. “I want it. I want you to fuck a baby into me.”

You groan again, forehead pressed to Cate’s shoulder, trying desperately not to start again even though every part of you is begging to.

“We are not starting another round before breakfast,” you growl.

Cate whines, pouty. “We could.”

“You’re gonna break.”

“I wanna break,” Cate says, eyes fluttering. “Wanna stay like this forever. You inside me. All warm. Making me yours.”

Your self-control is shredding. You tighten your arm around Cate’s waist and whisper, “You already are, baby. You’ve been mine since day one.”

Cate smiles—blissed-out and dreamy.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“If you really did knock me up, I think I’d be okay with it.”

You exhale like you’ve been shot. Your whole body presses into Cate’s, knot twitching, cock trying to swell again.

“Oh god,” you groan. “I’m gonna have to call out sick again. We’re not leaving this bed for the rest of the fucking week.”

Cate just giggles, draping her arm over yours, lacing your fingers together, and settling back into her hoodie cocoon.

“Kay. Wake me up when it’s time to fuck again.”

You don't even protest.

Just kiss her and hold her tighter, knot still snug, pulsing gently.

You mean to let her sleep. Really, you do. But Cate’s heat-sweet scent keeps curling into your lungs, winding tighter and tighter until it’s all you can think about. Your hips twitch once. Twice. By the third slow grind forward, you feel Cate’s breath catch.

“You awake, omega?” You murmur against her ear.

Cate hums drowsily, but when you roll your hips again, deeper this time, she lets out a soft, needy whimper.

“I thought you were gonna let me sleep,” Cate mumbles.

“I was,” you admit, kissing along her jaw, “but you smell too good. Can’t help it.” You push a little harder, the swollen knot nudging against her sensitive walls. “And I think your body’s ready for more.”

Cate shifts in her hoodie nest, pressing back against you instinctively. “Maybe…”

That’s all the permission you need. You ease Cate onto her sides, working your cock free with slow, deliberate thrusts that make Cate gasp, then roll her gently into your lap.

By now Cate’s trembling.

Her skin is sensitive—like even the air brushing across it hurts, like every molecule in her body is begging to be touched and soothed and fucked at the same time. Her thighs are slick again, even though you’ve already knotted her twice that morning. Her nipples are hard under the fabric, too much and not enough.

She’s curled up in your lap, facing you now, straddling your thighs with her arms looped around her alpha’s neck, clinging like she might float away otherwise.

“I c-can’t take it,” she whispers, rocking softly against your stomach. “I feel like—I don’t know what I feel like, I just—need.”

“I know, baby,” you murmur, voice soft and grounding. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

Cate whimpers when you cup her hips. Her whole body flinches, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Too much?” you ask, instantly pausing.

Cate shakes her head. “No—n-not too much. I need it. I just—it’s like it hurts, but I want more. Is that normal?”

You kiss her forehead. “It is. Your body’s working overtime. You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

Cate melts at the praise. Her eyes flutter shut, and she breathes in your scent like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered.

“I feel like a…like a hole. Like I’m just waiting for you to fill me up again.”

You let out a breath that’s part groan, part heartbreak.

“Oh, omega,” you whisper. “Let me take care of you.”

You’re gentle this time—so careful, so slow.

You lift Cate just enough to line her up, kiss her jaw, murmur affirmations into her skin like prayers: You’re perfect. You’re mine. Gonna make you feel good, baby. Cate’s already dripping, already fluttering around nothing.

And when you finally press in, your cock sliding thick and warm and slow into Cate’s slick heat, Cate cries.

Not from pain. Not from overwhelm. From relief.

“Thank you,” she whimpers. “Thank you, thank you—”

“Shhh,” you soothe, holding her close as you begin to rock your hips, slow and deep. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. This is what I’m for. You go soft, and I stay strong. You get needy, and I give. You feel, and I’ll carry it.”

Cate sobs into your shoulder as her body gives in again, grinding down against your knot, pulsing and fluttering and soaking you all over again.

You stay steady.

One arm locked around her waist. The other hand petting her hair. Hips moving slow and sure, keeping her plugged, keeping her grounded. Not chasing your own pleasure—just giving.

“I love you,” Cate babbles softly, words tumbling from her heat-drunk mouth. “I love you, I love you so much, I don’t wanna come down, I just wanna stay—”

“You will,” you promise, voice low. “I’ll keep you here. As long as you need. You want more cum, baby?”

Cate nods desperately. “Need it.”

“Then take it,” you whisper, voice breaking. “Take everything I have.”

You knot her again, slow and sweet. Cate cums sobbing.

And afterwards—when Cate’s trembling and slick and curled against your chest like a kitten—you just hold her and rock her and whisper, “You’re safe, omega. You’re mine.”

And Cate, half-conscious and completely wrecked, hums, “Forever.”

You stay that way for a long time, tangled under the blankets, the air thick with your combined scents. You keep petting her hair long after Cate’s breathing evens out, your knot still locked deep inside, keeping you together even in sleep. Eventually, your own eyes close, lulled by the warmth, the steady rise and fall of Cate’s chest, and the comforting hum of knowing you’re right where you belong.

The next time Cate stirs, the light is different—brighter, sharper. A new day. Her body feels heavy and slow, every muscle languid from days of being used, loved, filled. She tries to sit up, but her hips ache in protest, and her legs immediately threaten to give out.

She huffs a soft, pitiful laugh and sinks back down against your chest.

So now?

You’re carrying her.

Arms looped under her thighs, face tucked into her neck, Cate being doted on like the soft little omega she is—because after six straight days of knotting, overstimulation, and endless praise-fueled orgasms, you owe her that much and more.

“I feel like a doll,” Cate mumbles, eyes fluttering as you reach the bathroom. “A sore, leaky, used-up little doll.”

You hum, peppering kisses over Cate’s face. “You are. My perfect little doll.”

Cate blushes, giggles slipping freely from her lips. “You knotted me twenty-two times.”

You grin as you set her down on the closed toilet lid, hands lingering at her hips. “Twenty-three, technically. You passed out during the last one.”

“Oh my god.”

“You came, though,” you shrug, turning toward the tub to run the water. “Twice.”

Cate groans and drops her head into her hands.

The water starts to pour, and you add your favorite vanilla-oat soak—a calming, gentle scent Cate always associates with comfort. The room starts to fog with steam. The bath fills slowly.

You glance back over your shoulder. “Think you’ve got enough strength to let me undress you?”

Cate lifts her head just enough to smirk weakly. “You wanna peel me out of your hoodie and see the damage?”

“I’ve seen the damage. I did the damage.” You kneel between her legs and kiss the inside of her knee. “I just wanna hold you in the bath. No knot. No fucking. Just us.”

Cate softens immediately.

“Okay,” she whispers.

You strip her gently. The hoodie peels off, the soft cotton panties next. Cate’s skin is marked up—bruises and bite marks, swollen nipples, red streaks on her hips. Your breath catches, but you say nothing—just kiss every mark like a blessing.

Then you lift her again, like she weighs nothing at all, and sink into the steaming bath with Cate on your lap.

Cate lets out a sound so soft it’s almost a whimper. Her body melts, the warmth easing some of the ache from her joints. She slumps back against your chest and lets herself be cradled.

“This feels so good,” she whispers.

“I know, baby.”

You gently dip a washcloth into the water and begin to clean her. Slow strokes along her thighs, her belly, under her arms. You’re careful near her overstimulated center, avoiding pressure, just soothing your omega with warm touches and a soft hum under your breath.

Cate sighs. “You take such good care of me.”

“I love taking care of you.”

“I’m still leaking,” she says, embarrassed.

You press a kiss to her temple. “It’s okay. You’re mine. You should be leaking.”

Cate shivers. “You’re gonna break me next heat.”

You smile. “Only if you let me.”

Cate nuzzles in deeper. “I always let you.”

You stay there until the water goes lukewarm. Until Cate’s breath evens out and she starts to doze, arms loose around her alpha’s neck. Until the soreness in her body fades just enough for her to whisper—

“Next time, I wanna try on top.”

You choke on a laugh. “You’ll last five minutes.”

“Maybe. But I’ll look amazing.”

Afterwards, you insisted on brushing her hair.

Cate didn’t argue. She just let her alpha sit behind her, legs around her, slowly working the brush through her damp curls while she sipped from a mug of miso soup and tried not to melt all over again.

Now she’s curled back under the covers, hoodie sleeves covering her hands, phone in both palms while you kiss down the side of her neck in slow, lazy presses.

Her group chat is blowing up.

OMEGA COVEN<3

Emma:girl did you DIE??? we haven’t heard from you in like. five days.

Marie:u alive orrrrr did your alpha knot u into another plane of existence

Jordan:do we need to send soup or a shovel

Cate:sorry sorry sorry! hehe was a little busy being the most bred bitch alive<3

Emma: oh she did you like THAT???

Cate:like you don’t even understand i haven’t stood up since wednesday she knotted me TWENTY THREE times i saw GOD during round eight

Marie:twenty three jfc??girl are you okay?? is your PELVIS okay???

Cate:no and i don’t care she spoon-fed me soup and shampooed my hair after and she’s STILL hard she’s so obsessed it’s SICK

You lean over and murmur, “You tellin’ them about the part where you begged me to knock you up?”

Cate gasps—scandalized, delighted—and smacks you with the back of her hand.

“Not yet!” she hisses.

Jordan:receipts??? NOW

Cate:sorry i can’t my alpha is right here and she just growled in my earif i disappear again it’s bc she knotted me into a coma

You snatch her phone and type:she asked me to xoxo the alpha

Marie:i’m sick i’m throwing up i’m crying

Emma:i’m going into heat out of pure SPITE

Cate giggles and grabs the phone back, burying her face in your chest.

“Why are you like this,” she mumbles, blushing.

“Because you’re cute when you brag,” you say, kissing the top of her head. “And you should brag. You survived my freakishly long rut. Not many omegas could handle it, y’know.”

Cate peeks up at her with a smug little grin. “Good thing I’m not like other omegas.”

You smile wide. “Damn right you’re not.”

Cate settles back down against you, the weight of the last week catching up with her in a wave. The room is warm, the bed smells like both of you, and for the first time in hours there’s no urgency—just the steady comfort of being tangled up together. Your breathing slows, your body relaxing under Cate’s cheek, and it’s easy to match your rhythm.

You’re half-asleep beside her, one hand resting low on Cate’s belly like it belongs there. And maybe it does. It certainly feels right—like something her body has been waiting for.

Cate’s eyes flutter lazily toward the ceiling.

She still feels full.

Not just fucked-full. Not just used-full. Not just knotted and leaking and sore.

No—this is something else. Something deeper. She feels claimed. Filled to the brim with heat and love and your cum. Her belly is soft, warm, a little bloated from all the hours she spent with her alpha locked inside her—and it makes her wonder.

Her fingers slide beneath her hoodie. Trace across her stomach.

What if?

She’s thought about it before, sure. Fantasized. Teased you with the idea. Whispered filthy things mid-heat about being bred and kept barefoot and pregnant, just to rile you up. But this time…

This time she means it.

“I feel so full,” she murmurs softly, not sure if you’re awake enough to hear.

But you are.

You hum, low in your chest. “Still leaking?”

Cate nods. “Yeah. But it’s not just that. I feel…” She hesitates, pressing her palm against her belly. “I feel different.”

Your breath stills.

“Like something’s changed?”

Cate nods again. “You filled me up so much, baby. I could feel you every time you came. I swear—I could feel it soaking into me.”

You roll onto your side, pulling her closer, your hand joining Cate’s over her stomach.

“I wanted it to take,” you whisper. “Even if we weren’t trying. I—I wanted it.”

Cate’s throat tightens. “Me too.”

You lie there in silence, hearts racing softly under the quiet.

“It hasn’t before,” Cate says after a beat. “All those times. All that knotting. But this one felt… different. Like…maybe—”

You kiss her, slow and reverent, like you’re scared to jinx it. “If it doesn’t take, we’ll keep trying.”

Cate smiles softly. “Think I’ll survive another week-long heat?”

You grin. “Not sure I will.”

Both of you laugh, muffled and sleepy, tucked under the covers like a secret.

But as Cate drifts off, her hand still resting on her lower belly, the thought stays with her.

What if I’m pregnant?What if she really did breed me this time?What if this wasn’t just another heat—what if this was the beginning of everything?

And honestly?

She hopes it is.

Cate's hands are shaking.

She told you she was running to the dining hall. She even put on makeup to sell the lie. But instead of going to grab smoothies, she detoured to the campus pharmacy and stood frozen in the feminine care aisle for a solid ten minutes before finally grabbing two different tests, just in case.

Now she’s barefoot, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, sitting on the closed toilet lid in her own dorm room while the test rests on the counter beside her. She didn’t even have the strength to look at it when the timer buzzed.

Her heart is pounding so hard she feels dizzy.

It hasn’t taken before.

Not the first time. Not the third. Not even after the double knot weekend over spring break when she was sure she’d been bred.

And you had never said it, but Cate knew. Each time it didn’t happen, her alpha had curled a little more tightly around her in bed. Like you could feel Cate’s disappointment radiating through her skin.

But this time? This time was different. Six days locked in heat. You leaking cum inside her with every knot. Cate begging for it. Wanting it. Needing it.

She can still feel it. The fullness. The ache. The hum in her chest every time she rests a hand on her belly like it might be sacred.

“Okay,” she whispers, standing up on legs that feel like twigs. “Okay, okay, okay—”

She crosses the room. Picks up the stick.

Looks.

And—

Positive.Clear as day. Two perfect pink lines.

Cate goes completely still.

She doesn’t gasp. Doesn’t cry. Just stares.

Like she’s trying to commit this exact feeling—this moment—to memory. The air in the room. The way the sunlight hits the countertop. The sound of her own heartbeat racing in her ears.

Then—softly, barely audible—

“Oh my god.”

It takes a second before it really hits. But when it does, it comes in waves.

Tears well in her eyes. Her lips part. Her hand trembles as she sets the test down like it’s something holy.

She presses both palms to her belly, flat and soft, still untouched by anything visible—but something’s in there now.

She’s pregnant.

Your baby is growing inside her.

“Alpha,” she whispers, voice trembling. “You did it. You got me pregnant.”

The realization is too much. She sinks to the floor in a heap of hoodie and bare legs, crying quiet, happy tears.

And she knows—somewhere, two floors above—you have no idea that the dream you both only whispered about between heat-fueled kisses is real now.

Cate wipes her cheeks, breathing shaky but steadying.

“She’s gonna lose her mind.”

She sits there for maybe thirty seconds, staring at the little plastic stick on the counter, before she’s already up and moving. Shoes half on, hair a mess, phone forgotten on the bathroom sink. The test gets wrapped in tissue and tucked into her hoodie pocket like something precious, her fingers curling around it the whole way down the hall.

She doesn’t even text. Doesn’t think. Just goes.

Every step makes her heart race faster, each one carrying her closer to the girl who unknowingly just changed her life.

The door to your dorm room clicks shut behind her.

Cate’s heart is pounding so hard she feels dizzy all over again—but it’s a good dizzy. A glowing, floating kind of dizzy, like her whole body is made of sunlight and nerves and love.

She crosses the room quietly, slipping out of her shoes. Your bed is a half-tangled mess of sheets and blankets, your bare legs sprawled out over the comforter. You’re on your stomach, arm curled under the pillow, hair a chaotic halo. Your hoodie’s riding up your back. Your cheeks are sleep-flushed.

Cate stops just short of the bed and watches you for a second—her beautiful, exhausted, perfect alpha—and whispers softly:

“Hey, baby.”

You stir, blinking open one bleary eye. Your voice is hoarse and half-mumbled into the pillow.

“Cate?”

“Hi,” Cate says, biting her lip. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I just—can I come under?”

You grunt, immediately scooting over and lifting the blanket. “Always.”

Cate crawls in.

She’s careful, slow, settling herself under the covers with her knees tucked up and her body curled toward your chest. The second she’s in place, you wrap yourself around her without question—instinctive, protective, still more wolf than girl in this hour of the morning.

Cate tucks her face into your neck.

You kiss her hair. “You smell good.”

“I brought you something,” Cate whispers.

You’re still half-asleep. “Mm?”

Cate reaches into her pocket and pulls it out—the test, wrapped in a tissue, cradled like something precious. She hesitates, fingers trembling again, then slides it gently into your hand.

“What’s this?” you mumble, sitting up slightly.

Cate watches.

Waits.

You blink.

Look down at the test. See the lines.

Stop breathing.

The silence stretches for a beat. Two. Cate’s heart pounds in her throat.

“Cate.” Your voice breaks.

Cate bites her lip, nodding fast, eyes already filling again. “I took it this morning. I—I didn’t wanna get my hopes up but it’s real, baby, I swear. I’m pregnant. It took.”

You stare at the test like you’re not sure if you’re dreaming.

Then you lunge.

Wrap Cate up so tightly she gasps, pull her into your lap, crush her against your chest. Her whole body is shaking.

“You’re sure?” you whisper, voice wrecked. “You’re really—?”

Cate nods, eyes spilling. “You did it, alpha. You got me pregnant.”

Your hands splay over her stomach like they’re drawn there magnetically. “Oh my god. Cate. We’re—we’re having a baby?”

Cate laughs through her tears. “You sound so surprised.”

“I thought we had time,” you breath, still stunned, still holding her like she might float away. “I thought—I didn’t know I’d already done it—”

Cate leans forward, presses your foreheads together.

“You bred me so deep,” she whispers, smiling. “There wasn’t any room left. You think I’d not get pregnant after that?”

You let out a half-sob, half-laugh. You’re already crying. Already kissing her all over. Your hands don’t leave Cate’s belly.

“Fuck,” you say softly. “You’re carrying my pup.”

Cate hums, tearful and happy and full in every sense of the word.

“I really am.”

Now Cate’s tucked under the blankets, curled on her side with one hand pressed to her lower belly. She’s barely showing, of course—it’s day one—but her body already feels different. Heavier. More precious.

And you haven't stopped looking at her.

You’re sitting up, one arm braced behind Cate’s shoulders, the other resting reverently on her stomach. Your thumb brushes slow circles over the soft skin there, like you can feel the life beginning inside.

“You’re staring,” Cate says, amused.

“You’re pregnant,” you whisper like it’s a spell. “You’re literally carrying my child. I’m allowed to stare.”

Cate blushes, tucks her cheek into the pillow. “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

You lean down and kiss her temple. Then her jaw. Then her shoulder. “Good. I want you to feel everything.”

“You’re being weirdly romantic.”

“I’m in love with you and you’re having my baby, of course I’m weird.”

Cate giggles. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” Cate sighs, eyes fluttering shut. “More than anything. Even when you completely ruin my body with rut knots.”

You let out a warm, deep laugh and start pressing kisses to her belly.

Cate squirms. “I’m not even showing yet!”

“I don’t care. I’m kissing it anyway.” You kiss lower. “Hey, little thing,” you murmurs against her skin. “I’m your mom—or…dad?—or whatever. Can’t wait to meet you.”

Cate’s eyes fill again. “Baby…”

You look up, eyes shining.

“I’m calling out,” you say softly. “No class. No combat training. No nothing.”

Cate raises a brow. “So you’re just gonna stay here and dote on me for nine months?”

You smirk. “I was gonna make breakfast. But now that you mention it…”

Cate laughs so hard she has to curl into her hoodie.

Breakfast turns out to be a questionable stack of over-buttered toast, two scrambled eggs that might have been cooked in pure cream, and a mug of tea so sweet Cate jokes she’s getting a cavity just smelling it. But she eats every bite anyway, because her alpha made it, and because you watch her the whole time like you’re making sure your omega is properly fed.

By the time the plates are pushed aside, Cate’s legs are draped over your lap and you’ve pulled your laptop into bed with you, balancing it on a pillow with a baby name list open. Cate keeps rejecting every suggestion with narrowed eyes.

“No naming our daughter after a tree,” she says flatly. “I am not giving birth to a Juniper.’”

You grin, sipping your tea. “Okay, fine. What about something musical? Melody? Aria?”

Cate scrunches her nose. “I’m not birthing a Spotify playlist either.”

“Wow. High standards, mama.”

Cate hides her flustered face. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” You lean in. “You are one now. My omega. My pretty little mama.”

Cate nearly spills her tea.

“God, you’re gonna ruin me again.”

“Give me ten minutes to finish my tea,” you deadpan.

Cate hurls a throw pillow at you.

You both dissolve into giggles, tangled in warm blankets and sunlight and possibility.

Eventually, Cate ends up tucked under your arm, her cheek resting against her alpha’s bare chest while you continue scrolling lazily through the baby name list on your laptop. Cate isn’t even paying attention anymore—she’s too wrapped up in the steady rise and fall of your breathing, the warmth of your skin, the safe weight of your arm around her. One hand idly plays with the hem of your boxers, brushing over the elastic without thinking, just enjoying the contact.

“I want them to have my eyes,” Cate murmurs, eyes fluttering shut. “But your freckles. And your stupid messy hair.”

You hum, stroking your fingers through Cate’s hair. “I want them to have your laugh. And your big mouth.”

“Excuse me—”

“And your smartass comebacks. And your stubborn little omega glare.”

Cate grins against your chest. “That’s fair.”

“I hope they’re strong like you,” you add softly. “Kind. Fierce.”

Cate looks up at you. “They will be. Because they’ll have you.”

You kiss her, slow and sweet and endless.

And when you both fall asleep again—full bellies, warm hands, heartbeats in sync—there’s nothing but peace.

Just two girls in love.

And the tiniest beginning of a third heartbeat, fluttering quietly between you.

☎︎ I love making these little text thingies, they’re so fun ╱ they all take turns with me btw!! #passmearoundlikeablunt