@scruffup
“Do I really strike you as the sort who wants some pretty omega?” Connor’s words were low, watching Peter’s back for a few moments longer, before moving in closer. Enough that he could bring his nose to the nape of the other’s neck, inhale the familiar scent. “I don’t want some omega. I want you. Every day, every night. I want you in my arms. You’re my pack, and I’m yours.”















