Ten Trope Prompts!
5. ABO one night stand leads to Mpreg (for Neva)
(It’s a Terrible Life Verse ABO)
Dean knew this was his fault. That this was something he had to deal with on his own.
He was the one who snuck out of his dorm hours after curfew and headed to a bar he knewdidn’t card if you looked at the bouncers the right way. As long as he smelled fresh and unmated and pouted a bit, he knew he’d get in, underage or not. Omegas were good for business. And he’d known when he let the blue-eyed stranger buy him a drink that he was an alpha, but for some reason, he just hadn’t cared. Instead of going home with a beta or another omega to work off his end-of-heat-funk like he’d originally intended, it had been 6ft of gorgeous alpha that he’d followed out the door.
He’d just smelled so good. It was like Dean lost all common sense. He was always extra antsy for a few days right after his heat, but this particular guy, it was like he’d been made to drive Dean wild. He smelled like apples and something spicy and everything about him, from his dark tousled hair to his soft soft lips, had Dean’s inner omega whining like he was still in heat. He’d taken a few sips of the beer the guy bought him, and then crowded into his space and kissed him.
They hadn’t even gotten around to exchanging names. Dean had felt horny and down-right slutty though, and he actually took extra pleasure in how undignified all this was. An unmated omega sneaking out to go looking for a stranger’s knot – it was like something from a cheap porno, behavior Dean would never dream of indulging in, that would have his parents gasping in horror.
That hadn’t stopped Dean rubbing up against the alpha and licking into his mouth though. He’d growled against Dean’s lips like a warning or a promise before he was kissing back, hard and messy. Dean remembered the bar digging into his back as he was pressed into it and hands pulling at his hair and his hips as his mouth was ruthlessly, wonderfully, claimed by the stranger. The alpha’s erection had been a hard line against his hip and his arousal had that spicy undertone of his scent blooming and thickening, strong enough to give Dean a headspin.
“Want you,” he’d panted, (or something equally clichéd), and that had been more or less it as far as conversation went.