Caught In A Trap

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader
Rating: 18+
Tags: Dub Con, shifter Alpha, a little more werewolf-y than normal A/B/O, Dean’s an asshole, Omega heat, hate sex, rough sex, claws / scratching, oral (f rec), fingering, p in v, knotting, hint of praise kink, bit of dirty talk
Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Written for Syn’s November commission! God bless you for seeing this square on the A/B/O board and picking it out because I love this idea for it ❤

You were up all night, listening to the yowling. Sleep had been nearly impossible with all that screeching racket echoing through the woods. 

The Alphas come out every full moon, breaking away from their packs and running free in their true forms; something only the Alphas still remember how to do. Omegas had been the first to forget what it was like to run on four legs, and eventually the Betas stopped turning, too. But the Alphas clung to it; their birthright, this mystical power that somehow made them better than everybody else. 

It’s all a load of bullshit, in your opinion, but it’s apt – that Alphas still transform into these beasts that terrorise the population once a month. Not that they don’t terrorise you the rest of the time, too. That’s why you live alone, out here in the woods, where no one knows where to find you. Life is much simpler that way. 

Towards the break of day, most of the howling has died down. It never got too close to your cabin, but it had still been audible enough that you stayed on your guard. You thought you may have heard a fight break out at some point; a loud growling whine had woken you up in the middle of the night, clearly a wolf in pain. Hopefully no one had been hurt too badly. You may not like Alphas as a rule, but you never like seeing anyone in pain, no matter what presentation they are. 

Dragging yourself out of bed with a shiver, you burrow your toes into the shaggy fur rug protecting you from the cold of the wooden floor. The weather has just started to fall from the brisk ephemerality of autumn into the chill drear of winter. You’re looking forward to getting into a hot shower, and curling up with an even hotter cup of tea when you’re done, but first you need to brave the outdoors to bring more wood inside. You’d used your last log on the fire last night. 

Bundled up against the cold, you strike out of the cabin, feet crunching the frosty leaves underfoot as you stomp towards the wood pile you keep around the back of the house. You pause when you hear something drifting towards you on the hurried breeze. It’s not a usual forest sound – it’s more of a groan. Sometimes trees made those sort of moaning sounds during a heavy storm, but that wasn’t it. This was higher and keener… and closer. 

Looking around apprehensively, you drop your hand to the small knife you wear at your waist. You can’t see anything near you or the cabin, but then you hear it again. That’s definitely a person making that noise. The groans are succeeded by a series of grunts, giving you a better idea of which direction the noises are coming from. Following the trail that winds around the back of your cabin, you pick your way through the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible. 

As you move through the thicket of trees, the groaning and rustling is getting louder, and it occurs to you that you’re nearing the circle of traps that you have surrounding your cabin. Fuck, something’s probably gotten caught. You draw your knife and creep around the large hemlock bush that’s blocking your view of where the closest trap is, expecting to see a raccoon or something when you round the corner. 

It is absolutely not a raccoon caught in that trap. 

Dean, as he grumpily informed you was his name, is now sitting in your favourite squashy armchair in the middle of your cabin. He’s clutching a warm washcloth to the deep teeth marks that your wolf trap gouged into his forearm. He’d been partially transformed still when you’d found him, a wolf’s leg jutting out from the shoulder of his very human body. It was a fucking weird sight to stumble on. 

“Here, let me see how that’s healing up,” you offer, coming back to sit on the couch by his side and reaching for the bloodstained cloth. Dean growls at you, like he had when you’d first approached him outside, and you roll your eyes reflexively. Alphas are such fucking babies. 

“Let me see the damn arm,” you grumble, snatching the limb and pulling it into your lap so you can get a better look at the wound. “It looks like it’s healing, okay,” you muse, noticing the cuts are definitely shallower than they had been at first. The prongs of the trap had gone entirely through his leg… arm… whatever the hell limb this was. 

“Of course it’s healing, perks of the job, sweetheart.” Dean flashes you a cocky sneer, and you slap the fresh cloth down onto his forearm much more forcefully than necessary, making him hiss and recoil. 

“Good, that’ll heal too then,” you smirk, satisfied with your comeuppance for now. The tea kettle whistles and you heave yourself off the couch to go turn the burner off. “What kind of tea do you want?” you call behind you, looking through your available options. 

“I don’t drink tea,” Dean grunts aggressively. 

“Well, too bad. You were half frozen when I found you out there, this’ll help warm you up”

“I don’t need some Omega bitch to take care a’me,” Dean growls. You spin on your heel and give him a stern look before pointedly dropping a tea bag into a mug and pouring the kettle. 

“You don’t want me taking care of you?” You carry his tea back to the armchair and drop it on the side table with a loud thunk. 

“No,” Dean snarls, baring his teeth, which are still pointier than usual after last night’s full moon. You refuse to back down, your anger driving you closer to him. 

“No? So you don’t want some Omega bitch to take care of that boner you’ve been sporting since the first time I touched you?” Your eyes drop accusingly to the poorly concealed erection that is bulging in his lap. You’ve loaned him a pair of your loosest sweatpants, the ones you save for days you want to be extra comfy, but they’re stretched awkwardly over his crotch, obviously not being made to accommodate the male anatomy. 

Dean scoffs at you, rolling his eyes. 

“What, like you woulda offered,” he sneers, tone brimming with condescension. 

“Well, I was gonna, but if you don’t need my help…” You throw your hands up in surrender and shrug, turning away to go back to the kettle and pour your own cup of tea. Of course, you absolutely hadn’t planned on offering, but Dean is royally pissing you off, and the tease had been too good to resist. 

“Oh, so now you’re a cocktease, huh, sweetheart?” Dean follows close behind you, you can feel his breath on your neck. 

“I didn’t do anything that warrants that kind of reaction,” you stare pointedly at his crotch. You would jump off a bridge before admitting it, but the sight is actually making your mouth water. 

“Yes you fuckin’ did,” Dean snarls, lunging forward and bracketing his arms on either side of you, trapping you against the kitchen worktop with his chest pressing into your back. 

“Get the fuck off me!” you grunt, trying to throw him off, but the vestiges of his strength from the transformation are still working their way through his body, and he’s far too strong for you to move. “I didn’t do anything,” you argue again, futilely. 

“You’re the one walkin’ around here smelling this fuckin’ delicious,” Dean murmurs, the sudden quiet of his tone somehow more threatening than when he was growling at you. “How d’you expect an Alpha to react? When we smell a little ‘mega bitch just ripe for the taking. It’s instinct, baby.” 

One of Dean’s hands leaves the counter, but his body is holding yours in place, so there’s still no chance of escape. His fingers worm their way between you both and grope at the crotch of your leggings. You can’t contain the moan that sneaks up your throat at the feeling of his hand against your sex. 

“And it’s not just me who wants it, is it? Are those panties getting nice an’ slick for me, sweetheart? You are about to go into your heat, aren’t ya? Lucky I’m here then, to take care of you.”

You try to contain the moan that bleeds through your lips when Dean’s fingers finally come into contact with the little bundle of nerves between your legs, but you can’t quite manage it. He’s right, as much as you’re loath to admit it. You are about to go into heat, you’d been expecting it for days now, and the presence of an Alpha just off the back of his transformation is clearly pushing you towards that inevitability even more quickly. 

“Get the hell off of me, asshole!” you growl, trying again to buck him off. “I don’t need some Alpha douchebag taking care of anything.” 

“Hey now,” Dean tuts, grinding his hips into your ass to keep you still, “that’s no way to talk to an Alpha, baby girl. ‘Specially one who’s just trying to help.” You can feel his stupid fucking grin against the back of your neck when he ducks down to nip at the skin stretched across your spine. 

Embarrassingly, the feel of his teeth against your neck, so close to your mating gland, sends a gush of arousal down your body. Dean laughs heartily, and you know he’s just felt the slick that’s leaked into your panties. He must be able to smell it, even if he hasn’t felt it against his fingers yet. 

“You can struggle all you want, ‘mega, but you can’t fool me,” Dean whispers, his breath burning against your ear. 

Suddenly, your centre of gravity has shifted and you’re hanging upside down, because Dean has picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. He stomps towards your bed on the opposite end of the cabin, ignoring your fists currently pounding into his back. He tosses you onto your back, the mattress making a disgruntled creaking noise as he climbs on with you. 

“Fuck off,” you seethe, kicking out at him, but he catches your foot in his grasp easily. The easy strength he uses to manipulate you is disconcertingly hot, and you curse your Omega instincts for making you feel like that, for telling your body that it should be submitting to this man in front of you; this Alpha. 

“I know just how to get bratty little Omegas like you to behave,” Dean smiles cockily, then slides his hand along your ankle into the bottom of your leggings and shreds the fabric along the seam. It rips all the way up to your crotch and then down the other leg as well. You catch sight of one of Dean’s claws extending from a finger, and he uses it to tear the remaining threads, so your leggings are hanging from your waist, openly exposing your soaking panties. 

You’re frozen, watching as Dean places his clawed fingers one by one on your leg, then drags them, agonisingly slowly, up your thigh. An involuntary shiver rocks through your body at the sensation of him scratching so delicately against your flesh, all the while knowing he could draw blood if he pressed just a little harder, sank those claws just a little deeper. You feel another wave of slick flood your panties at the mere thought, and you once again curse how fucking kinky your Omega instincts have always made you. You shouldn’t want anything that’s happening right now, but deep inside, you know you really fucking do. 

Dean snags one claw through the lace of your panties and tugs threateningly. 

“What, no sassy comments anymore?” he grins triumphantly, eyes gleaming. 

“Fuck you,” you grunt, gritting your teeth against the urge to moan as the backs of his fingers skate through the wet between your legs, one knuckle catching against your clit and making your hips jerk. 

“That’s ‘fuck you, Alpha’ to you, ‘mega,” Dean growls, then in one swift motion he’s leaning down and ripping your panties off with his teeth. 

“Fuck!” you whimper in shock when his teeth scrape lightly over the folds between your legs, quickly followed by his tongue delving between them to lap at your entrance. Your hands fly to his head, intent on pushing him away, except without meaning to you pull him closer instead. You feel him laugh against you, but he doesn’t let up in his mission to fuck his tongue as deep inside you as it can possibly reach. 

He switches focus after a moment and licks his way up to your clit. Your hips buck against his hold when he starts to trace tiny circles around it with his tongue, teasing you more than you can take. You whimper, ashamed at how pathetic you sound, but maybe he takes pity on you, because a moment later he sucks you between his lips and does something with his tongue you hadn’t even realised was possible. 

A finger – thankfully clawless now – snakes its way inside you and begins teasing at the nerves just inside your entrance. Dean chuckles deeply when you whine and clench around him, quickly adding another finger and spreading them to stretch your walls. 

“So tight, ‘mega,” he groans, lips still gliding over your slick skin. “Don’t know how you’re gonna fit my knot in here.” 

“Oh fuck,” you whimper at the thought, craving it, wondering just how big Dean really is, hoping desperately that he can fit, because you really do want him to fuck you now. 

“You’re close, aren’t ya, sweetheart,” he smirks, speeding up the pace of his fingers and bringing his thumb up to toy with your clit. “I can feel how tight you’re squeezing me, your body’s just beggin’ to let go, ain’t it?” 

“Please,” you whimper, burying your head against your pillow in shame, while at the same time thrusting yourself down onto Dean’s hand. 

“I gotcha sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he reassures you, holding your hips down with his free arm and fucking into you even faster. “Just gotta do one little thing f’me first, yeah?” 

“Please,” you beg again, struggling in his grasp, desperate to reach your peak. You’d do anything at this point. 

“Just gotta be the good little Omega bitch I know you are, an’ say ‘thank you, Alpha’,” Dean’s voice rumbles deep in his chest, almost feral. 

You can’t believe him, the pompous asshole. You’re not planning on saying anything of the sort. 

“Go to hell!” You try to growl at him, but it comes out closer to a whine. 

Dean shakes his head at you, like he’s disappointed, and withdraws his hands from between your legs with a smirk. 

“Still gotta teach you some manners, apparently.” 

“Someone needs to teach you some fucking manners,” you grumble under your breath, but Dean’s dark chuckle lets you know he’s heard you. 

“C’mon, ‘mega, I’m doing you a favour here,” Dean coos, reaching for the band of his sweatpants and pushing them down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. “You’re fuckin’ lucky I wound up here to get you through this heat.” 

You stare at his cock hungrily, utterly astounded by how fucking perfect it looks; long, but even more importantly, thick. Your cunt actually flutters when you think about Dean fucking you with that. He finishes peeling himself out of the ill-fitting sweatpants and crawls over you, like a hunter stalking his prey. You’re caught beneath him, trapped by your desire to have him ravish you, and you’re terrified he can tell just how badly you need him to ruin you. 

His claws are back out, and in the next instant the rest of your clothes are hanging in shreds off your body. You want to be angry about it, except all you can think about is Dean scratching those claws down your body, trailing your skin with red welts that will show anyone who looks at you that he’s claimed his territory. 

As if he can read your mind, Dean traces his claws lightly over your chest, pausing to dig deeper against your collarbone, then scratching more harshly, leaving a trail leading from your breasts down your stomach, to back between your legs. 

“Stop fighting me, ‘mega,” Dean bends down to whisper in your ear, nibbling at your throat while he’s at it. The scratch of his teeth so near your mating gland makes you dizzy. “Lemme take care’a you, let your Alpha in.” You whimper as he grabs his cock and runs it over your entrance, collecting the slick that’s begun leaking out of you and onto the bed. “All you gotta do is ask, sweetheart.” 

You don’t want to break, you really don’t, but you know you will. You know there’s no denying how badly you want him – need him – inside you. And the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can have what your body so desperately craves. 

The moment the word Alpha crosses your lips, Dean is pushing inside you. You cry out, unable to hold back, immediately trying to fuck yourself into his cock, and Dean just laughs down at you, clearly pleased with your desperate submission. You feel a sting of betrayal at the warm glow that fills you when Dean begins to whisper condescending praises in your ear. 

“Good girl, good ‘mega, knew you had it in you. Knew you were just a sweet little cockslut deep down. Just lay back baby, lemme take care of you. Gonna keep you locked on my knot until your heat’s all better ‘mega, I promise.” 

“Fuck, Alpha, please,” you beg, shame and desire mixing to heat your skin. 

“That’s it, ‘mega, you keep fuckin’ begging f’me,” Dean growls, fucking into you violently. You feel his knot start to swell, pushing threateningly at your entrance. “If you’re really fuckin’ good, maybe I’ll decide to keep you. Let you use my big Alpha cock whenever you want. How’s that sound sweetheart?” 

You mewl desperately, teetering on the edge of your climax. Dean must be able to tell, you’re squeezing him so tightly between your legs. 

“Fuckin’ cum for me, ‘mega. Cum on my Alpha cock and say fuckin’ thank you for it,” Dean pounds himself into you, his knot popping inside, rubbing against that sweet spot inside your cunt, and you scream out your release, a babble of curses and thank yous and Alphas tumbling from your lips as you gush around him. He collapses on top of you, grunting through his own climax as his knot pulses against your walls. 

You know you’ll be tied together for a while now, while he finishes cumming and his knot deflates, and as much as you hate to admit it, you really don’t mind being trapped here with him anymore.