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The omega. That’s my proper designation, though some have been known to refer to me as the Cinderella wolf, or the diffuser. Personally I would prefer to be called any name but the Cinderella wolf, but the way that the term omega is thrown about amongst my ever-friendly wolf pack, the diffuser is the least objectifying of titles.
I suppose I should be counting myself as lucky that Derek even includes me in his pack, seeing as I’m not even a werewolf. It sure as hell beats being the one who isn’t called in for any of their supernatural shenanigans like I was before. Scott has started talking to me again, which means that Allison has also reached out to me, Cora still scares the crap out of me when she’s mad (which is almost always), but we can share a laugh here and there. Even Peter and I have a good back and forth going.
And of course there’s the stuff with Derek.
I don’t like to admit that I owe Derek anything, but he really did pull me out of the dumps. Before I became this honorary ‘diffuser wolf’, I spent a lot of time alone. At first, my grades actually went up because you get to a point where studying is favourable to playing video games for even another five minutes. That wasn’t the worst, but I had sunk quickly into a state where staying in bed all day was better than anything. I couldn’t gather the motivation to shower, to call anyone, or to even go to school most days. So really, I owe him a lot.
“Let’s make you an honorary Omega for tonight,” I shudder at the memory of those words, and the actions that had followed.
Everyone in the pack has their place, and though I’m still learning mine, it’s getting better. I think I’m even doing better than Scott, actually. He isn’t handling his placement very well. Since he turned, he’s been so used to being the special student, athlete, friend, you name it. But being a wolf isn’t like that, and in the pack where he feels he should be the alpha or at least the beta, Scott has been placed as the tester wolf.
The tester wolf doesn’t have an easy job, mind you. Their job is to be skittish and careful. They can trust no one. He’s in charge of judging the pack. If someone isn’t doing their respective job, Scott is the one who has to challenge them to prove their worth; which hasn’t yet, but will one day put him in the middle of an all-out canine brawl. Scott also has to be on the lookout for any new happenings that need to be reported to the alpha. Basically, a job that he was given just because he’s dating a hunter’s daughter.
I don’t quite envy his position. Mine isn’t much better, but the tester title just seems like it would either be really boring or really risky; of which I would prefer neither.
I snap my head up at the sound of a growl. Scott is beside me, with his hair standing on edge as Allison’s father pulls up. Since he was dubbed the tester, Scott can never relax when her dad comes around.
“See you guys later,” Allison calls as she kisses Scott’s cheek. I smile politely and wave, trying to make up for the bristled stature that her boyfriend has taken up. As hard as it is on Scott, I imagine it must be a lot harder on Allison. From what I’ve heard, having parents disapprove of who you’re dating can be a real bitch.
I really hope that I never get to the point where I have to disclose my own relationship to my dad. As accepting as he is, I highly doubt he would welcome the idea of me being Derek’s mate.
Not that I particularly enjoy being called a mate, but it beats some other terms that could be used. In a pack, it’s all about terminology. Labels that you’re born into the pack with, and I’m part of the pack only because Derek likes to keep a stress reliever around. Hence, the diffuser.
Wolves in the wild value the diffuser as the peacekeeper of the pack. When two wolves fight, the diffuser jumps in like a rodeo clown and distracts them until they’re calmed down a little. Some say that, without the diffuser, the pack wouldn’t be able to function. They would go to war with each other at the drop of a hat.
So essentially, I am the comedic relief of the pack. Granted, that’s only the highlighted part of my description, the part that is admirable and respected. The tasks that are better known of my title are the ones that include being the pack’s bitch. I’m the scapegoat. The stress relief. The wolf who you can fuck when you get too angry to function.
At least, that’s what the alpha uses me for. And, in turn, he usually grants me a bit of stress relief as well.
Derek, of course, is the alpha. Big, macho man –wolf who overpowers the whole pack, dominant and strong. But even he isn’t what you would usually think of when you hear the word ‘alpha’. All of the generic depictions of wolf packs feature them as the fearless leader who does all and risks all to protect the pack, but that’s more of Peter’s job. Alphas, you see, are too precious to be put in harm’s way. As far as battle tactics go, it’s pure insanity to place your best soldier on the front lines.
The alpha wolf is more of the brains of the pack than the muscles. He lies in the back, directing the battles; when, where, and who to attack. Derek is, in general, the decision maker. He is biologically made to protect his pack, his family, and if he were to ever be taken down they -we- would all go to shit. Losing an alpha essentially results in the pack falling completely apart, and often forming separate packs. Once a family, they are made into rival packs that will show no more mercy than two packs who had never met before would.
After Allison leaves, Scott heads home as well and leaves me alone in front of the school waiting for Derek. I look around in the hope that no one could witness me getting in the car with him. I think a lot of people were already assuming that he and I were messing around. No one has been explicitly told, but the pack can smell our frequent meetings together. Scott would have told Allison, Allison would have told Lydia, and Lydia would have told everyone. I’ve started to notice some of my teammates avoiding me in the locker room, except Danny and Scott of course, and a lot of people cut off their whispers when I walk close to them in the halls. Scott and I, as close as we’ve ever been, have never breached the topic of my sexuality and I prefer to keep it that way. Telling any of the pack would result in special treatment as the alpha’s mate, and neither Derek nor I want that.
So he sends me texts to call me to his place. Apparently he hates using his phone like that, because it’s so much easier to howl, but that doesn’t exactly keep it on the down-low. It would be like announcing to every wolf in town: “Stile Stilinski we need to fuck right now”. And I’m unable to call back because I’m a human and staying that way. Derek will have to continue with this form of communication if he wants to keep his precious Cinderella wolf.
He pulls up, and though I try to remain calm I find my heart starts beating faster. I’m unsure of whether it’s because of arousal or fear, and probably the strangest part is that Derek would be able to tell from his car. He can tell when a prey’s heart rate changes from over ten feet away, and right now he can hear that mine just did and also differentiate the emotional reasoning that even I can’t figure out. One of the benefits of being an alpha.
“Would you get in here?” Derek shouts, leaning over the passenger seat to push open the door for me. What a romantic.
Sliding into the passenger seat, I breathe a sigh of relief. No one is around to see us, and having this moment to relax after another rough day at school is nice. His smell is familiar, like shaving cream and earth. The leather seat touching my skin is cool and satisfying. The radio is turned so low that it was essentially inaudible for me, but his wolf ears can stand no more than that level. In fact, it’s apparently the level were-parents would tell their were-teenagers would make them deaf by the time they turned twenty.
“You’re getting too used to this,” Derek tells me, pulling out of the school parking lot. His tone is that of someone telling their dog that they’re getting too used to eating people food. It’s amiable, but stern. It pisses me off.
“You called me, pooch.”
He scowls at the term that I personally find to be endearing. Can’t we have pet names like normal couples? Though, even the phrase “pet name” would probably set him off.
I swear I catch a hint of a smile under that scowl though, especially when he mutters the word: “chew toy” under his breath. And suddenly we have pet names for each other; what a stepping stone in our relationship.
Our relationship. An Alpha and an Omega. The big bad wolf and Cinderella, the leader and the diffuser. There’s so much focus on terminology, in both packs and interactions with other people. The word ‘relationship’ makes me shiver. Partly because that idea excites me, and partly because I want to get it off my mind, I reach over for the steering wheel and guide Derek’s car toward the side of the road.
There are forests on either side of the road; one of the nice things about Beacon Hills is that there’s a lot of physical privacy wherever you are, it’s the gossip that you need to worry about. But with no one around to tell our story, I unbuckle my seatbelt and crawl awkwardly over the cup holder between us to sit, with a leg on either side, in Derek’s lap and bring his face toward mine in a passionate kiss.
He lets out a soft growl and puts his hands on my sides, right where he knows I’m ticklish. My body tenses out of habit, not knowing whether he’s going to torture me into laughter or just grab on to me tighter. I can already feel myself nearly whimpering. I know what he’s going to do to me, but at the same time I have no clue what he’s going to do next.
I have my hands on his face, pulling his mouth harder against mine and kissing him with an open mouth. His tongue is deep inside my mouth, and my breath is coming in and out in short puffs from my nose. Fingers start to trail up and down my sides, making me uncomfortable and ticklish, and causing me to squirm in his lap.
He chuckles. God, I love it when he does that. I can feel it in my own mouth, that low laugh he makes when he knows that he’s pushed me past the point of no return. I let out a moan, and his hand comes up my back to grab my hair and yank my head back. No longer swallowed by Derek, the noise bounces around the car.
Derek runs the tip of his tongue all the way up my neck over my Adam’s apple, and nips me on the chin. I feel embarrassed by the small noises that are escaping my lips, but more mortifying is when he bites gently on my collarbone and I feel my dick growing hard against his stomach.
His hand is still tight in my hair, and I’m gulping in as much as air as I can before he kisses me again. His other hand is on my hip, his thumb slipping beneath my waistband and stroking my hipbone.
Before I know it, we’re in the back of the car and my pants are off. Derek rubs the front of my boxers for only a moment before pulling my cock out and sliding his hand up and down the length of it. I reach for his crotch, but I blink and my hand is pinned above my head. My back arches, the restriction turning me on even more than the way he strokes me with expertise.
“Don’t struggle,” Derek whispers in a raspy voice. I nod hastily, praying silently for more as I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning.
His tongue flicks over my abdomen and I shudder. I can feel myself coming close to orgasm; Derek’s hand still pumping up and down, my mind clouding. His teeth sink into my shoulder when I finally start to shake.
“Fuck,” I moan, “That hurts, Derek.”
He smiles and dips his head to lick the head of my penis, and I can feel how close I am with every muscle in my body. It’s all the way in his mouth now. I’ve never received oral from anyone before, only given. Let me tell you, it is amazing.
Derek’s nails are digging into the flesh on my lower back as he takes in as much of my cock as he can. His teeth graze my skin, his mouth feels fantastic, and I can barely contain myself.
“I’m going to-“
He stops. His head is suddenly beside mine, and there’s no friction at all against my bits. I can hear myself whining and I feel like tearing out my hair, but in only a moment he has me turned around with my hands against the window. Which do, in fact, steam up when you’re getting hot in heavy inside a car.
His tongue again. It swirls around my opening, and I hear him spit into it more than I feel it. There’s the cold feeling of lubricant, and then the sensation of his dick pressing at my anus.
I let out a long, drawn out cry as he slowly enters me, and arch my body in the way that I know will make it more pleasurable than painful. He’s going deeper and deeper, grabbing on to the back of my hair and pulling me up into a kneeling position so that he can turn my head and kiss me again.
His hand is at my throat, cutting off most of my air supply as my breathing gets shorter and shallower. My vision has sparks at the corner, and I know that I’m not going to be able to keep myself from orgasm much longer.
At that moment, his grip loosens and he thrusts in as deep as he can before shuddering with a snarl. I can feel his ejaculate leaking from my hole as he reaches around and rubs the head of my dick for only a second before I’m also crying out and there’s my own hot liquid all over his back seat.
Unlike the other times that we had been together like this, we rest in the car for at least twenty minutes before even talking. I put my head on his shoulder and let him drape his arm around me. I smile so that he can’t see me, and run my fingers up and down his sticky thigh.
“What pissed you off today?” His voice is back to his usual pissed off tone.
I shrugged, his arm moving with my shoulders, “Nothing did, I just wanted to do this.” He seems satisfied with this answer, and rubs his hand up and down my back.
“What pissed you off?”
Derek laughs to himself. “Nothing. Just wanted to.”
Always the romantic, I think again. Though, I knew from the start that this Cinderella wolf wasn’t waiting for a prince anyway. The big bad wolf is much more up my alley, as it turns out.