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One
Ripley
My eyes blink open, crust from my night’s sleep trying to keep them fused. When I finally get them loose, I lay staring at the wall in my room at the Omega Center for a moment. I’m not sure what woke me, but I’m awake now, so I might as well get up and start the day. Heaving a sigh, I roll over, looking at the clock sitting on my nightstand—5:28 a.m. A groan slips out as I sit up and stretch my body.
My phone chimes, so I grab it, seeing messages from my mom and dads wishing me a happy birthday, telling me how much they love me and how proud of me they are. Not that they have anything to be proud of. Not from me. My siblings? Sure. Ridge and Ridleigh - they had a thing for names that start with the letter ‘R,’ obviously - are lucky. Both presented as alphas. And then there’s me, the baby of the family. An omega. They have it so much easier than I do.
Neither of them struggled to find their packs and settle down. Ridleigh went to college to become a doctor and loves everything she does. Her pack is lovely, complete with two other alphas, a beta, and an omega. They also already have kids. My niece and nephew are amazing little people, and I fell in love with them the minute I laid eyes on them for the first time.
And Ridge, only four years older than me, became an amazing mechanic. He always loved fixing cars when he was growing up. Now, he runs his own shop with one of his pack brothers, Zeke. Unfortunately, they have yet to find their omega, stating they’re just not ready. But I think they’ll start looking soon. He also didn’t have any problems finding his pack and place in this world.
This one is supposed to be a good one as far as birthdays go—the big ol’ two one. Still, I don’t want today to be...today. For every other omega, turning twenty-one or twenty-two is so exciting. But that’s for the omegas who already know what will happen to them when they leave the Center.
Most, if not all, of the omegas I have spent the last three years with have already met their alphas. Their packs. Their new families. They’ve been building relationships and bonds for months. Some have been courting for years. But I’m not one of them. I didn’t find a single scent that made me weak in the knees during my time here. In the three years that I’ve been here since I perfumed on my eighteenth birthday, I have met so many alphas you’d think my head would spin, and nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nobody called to me. Not a single one made my heart race. No pack felt right for me. And isn’t that just swell, you know?
Instructors, my parents, my friends. They’ve all tried reassuring me. They tell me I’ll find them. I’ll find alphas that make my entire world align just right. I just have to be patient. Well, I’m tired of being patient! I’ve been patient for three damn years. How much more patient can someone get? The only logical explanation is that they don’t exist. Or I’m broken. But I don’t like to think like that. So, we’ll just go with they’re nonexistent.
The OC is the best place to attend for omegas looking for their perfect match simply because they help us meet them in a safe and neutral environment. But it’s not necessarily mandatory, just more heavily recommended. Alpha packs pay a membership fee to be able to find an omega and there are usually intense background checks done on everyone to ensure the safety of the omegas isn’t jeopardized, which is a huge selling point for any OC around the world. If they can guarantee that we’re safe while looking for the perfect pack, then why wouldn’t we want to do it this way, ya know?
They have classes for us to take, consisting of omega etiquette, basic life skills, as well as programs for some degrees should an omega choose to go that route. Basically, they teach us how to be omegas and how to take care of our alphas. The OC has a fantastic record for successfully matching nearly every omega that walks through their doors with their perfect match. For those who don’t find a match, though incredibly rare because of their large database of alphas in the system, they have the option of either going home with family or moving into one of the omega only designated apartment complexes set up for them with security and everything they could need to keep themselves safe. The Center also helps unbonded omegas sign up for heat services, should they so choose, and mixers to continue searching for a pack after graduation should they not find one before, but, like I said, it’s pretty rare.
Once you voluntarily step foot into the OC, they take their jobs seriously, wanting to make sure everything is done in a safe environment and kept controlled. We get to leave for holidays and special occasions, or we can sign ourselves out should we want to go out, but nobody really wants to usually. Too worried about running into trouble. Besides, we have everything we need here. They provide for the omegas very well. As they should considering the fees alphas pay to have a membership here.
Today is going to suck major balls. I sigh again, grabbing a towel from my closet. There’s going to be a big ceremony for all the graduating omegas. Figures that my birthday would fall on the day they hold the ceremony to send all of us omegas off into this big, imperfect world. Everyone in my class will dress up in pretty dresses to show off for their new alphas. They’ll dance and eat, preening under all the attention they’ll receive. And at the end of the night, finally, after waiting for however long they’ve been waiting, they will get to go home with their new packs. I’m sure you can guess how things will progress from there.
Nests. Knots. Bond marks.
Love, a voice whispers in the back of my mind.
I growl at the pity party for one I’m apparently throwing as I rip my shirt over my head while walking into the bathroom. Climbing in the shower after getting the temperature right, I sigh. The warm water relaxes my muscles as it cascades over me and clears my head once I’m under the stream.
What do I care? I don’t need any alphas. I’ve been just fine by myself this long.
I scrub my skin hard, watching as it turns pink from my abuse. I don’t need knots and cuddles. Alpha scents curling tightly around me, embedding in my skin for me to sniff and roll around in for the rest of my life. I scoff at my thoughts, picking up my shampoo and lathering it into my scalp before rinsing it out and conditioning it.
Keep telling yourself that, Ripley.
I sit on the ledge as I leave the conditioner to soak into my hair. The steam from the hot water dances in front of me as I just sit and stare at the water that runs like rainfall from the showerhead. My mind wanders, thinking about the perfect alphas for me.
They’d all be different but fit me in just the right ways. Each would provide me with something the other didn’t. One would get my total obsession with alien smut, even if they didn’t read it themselves. Another would sit in the yard with me, planting flowers for hours to help me make something pretty or explore the outdoors with me. Someone to play games with me when the mood strikes, especially if it has the potential for jump scares. I love creepy stuff. One more to have someone to binge-watch all my favorite anime with me whenever I want, snuggling down into an oversized comfy couch and cuddling up close.
Looks aren’t a significant factor to me, though I don’t think anyone’s ever said no to a pretty face. I just want someone to see me for me and to comfort me when I need it. Hold me when I feel insecure. Love me through all my moments, be that good or bad. Security. That’s all any omega wants, I guess. To be held tight in the arms of someone who vows to love and protect them for all their days. To squirrel away in their nest with their alphas and let them knot and fuck them into utter bliss.
My breath catches in my throat as I think of what it would be like to be knotted by an alpha for the first time in my life. Aside from porn and the gossip I hear from my friends, it’s unknown to me. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have an alpha knot me, stretching me wide around him.
My hand travels down between my breasts as I imagine the perfect nest in my mind, laying on a mound of soft blankets and pillows while my alphas worship my body. I circle the tip of my index finger around one nipple, then the other, panting out as my slick dampens my thighs. I continue to tweak my nipples, imagining it’s an alpha’s mouth latched tight to one, suckling and teasing the tip.
I squeeze my thighs together for friction as my thoughts become so vivid in my mind’s eye. My hand skims down as I picture them trailing their lips down my body. Tongue swirling around my navel, I imagine a mischievous grin with a twinkle in their eye, moving further down to the apex between my thighs. A sigh escapes me when my finger collides with my clit. I breathe a little faster as I rub in slow, tight circles, imagining them licking me from my clit to the bottom of my entrance, slowly teasing me. Up and down, they’d lick my pussy, circling my clit before sucking it into their mouth.
I pinch the little nub and play in my wetness, my slick velvety feeling against my fingers and labia. I see it all play out so clearly. They’d pick me up and put me on their laps. While I straddled their hips, my powerful alpha would wrap an arm around my back to help support me as I’d rise and notch them at my entrance. I’d tease them, pushing myself slowly down onto their length, clenching the entire way down. They’d tire of my teasing, though, and grab handfuls of my ass before bouncing me on their cock as they’d rut me hard from below.
The knot at the base of their cock would hit my opening with each downward thrust, teasing me with the expectation of being locked to them for however long. They’d push their big knot into my pussy and lock us together as I’d be filled over and over. I insert a finger inside as my breaths pant out faster and faster. Crooking it a little to hook on that perfect spot and rubbing as I imagine the rest. Another alpha, nerdy and cute, running their lips along my body as I stay locked to their pack mate.
My breathing quickens, and I groan as I insert another finger, imagining another there, but not a male. Strangely, my mind conjures up a female alpha. Not as common as male alphas, but more common than male omegas. And also, not technically a social norm for a female omega to be lusting after a female alpha, since technically, they don’t have the right equipment for me, if you catch my drift. I’ve never thought of another woman sexually, but today I am. Mostly because I’ve just never met anyone that piqued my interest. I’ve seen many beautiful women, mostly omegas. And the few female alphas I have seen weren’t to my tastes.
My slick runs down my thighs as I imagine a fiercely gorgeous female alpha laving attention to my nipples as I pluck at one with one hand as my fingers move back to my clit, and I rub faster, harder circles. Moaning loudly, the sound echoes in my small bathroom. In my head, she’d bite the nipple gently before moving lower and pushing her face in the open space between the other alpha and me to lick my clit and around my opening, where I’d be stretched wide over a knot. She’d tease me with long strokes around the area, making the other alpha groan and buck up to push even farther into me. Finally, she’d suck my clit into her mouth.
I scream out as my orgasm crashes against me right as she sucks in my imagination, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I try to catch my breath. My legs shake from the force of my orgasm crashing over me and my belly feels warm. Leaving me feeling... glow-y... and satisfied. My imagination is incredibly detailed, apparently. Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.
