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bradshawsbaby · 1 month

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“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you.” With Harrison? Pretty please? 🙏🏼

Harrison Knott, the man that you are! I’ve actually never written for him before, so I hope I did him justice!

Your lips curved into the faintest of smiles as you felt a kiss ghost across your temple, convinced you were having a lovely dream. But when you felt another kiss brush against your cheek, you started to stir, realizing that the warm, sturdy body hovering above yours was more fact than fantasy.

Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you lifted your head off the pillow, groggy and confused, especially when you glanced at the clock on your bedside table and registered the fact that it wasn’t even 6am.

“Harrison?” you mumbled with a yawn, barely able to keep your eyes open as you laid your head back down and curled up under the blankets.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, his voice low and tinged with a bit of his own sleepiness. “Just didn’t want to leave without giving you a kiss goodbye,” he chuckled sheepishly, one of his large hands coming to rest on your back.

“Leave?” you demanded, your eyes flying open this time. You sat up immediately and pointed out the window, where the canvas of the sky was just being painted with strokes of purple, pink, orange, and yellow. “The sun’s barely up,” you told him with a pout.

“I know,” he laughed, leaning forward to peck your lips. “But right now’s the best time to hit the beach before the tourists show up.”

It was only then that you realized your boyfriend was wearing nothing more than a pair of board shorts, the gym bag where he kept his wetsuit sitting next to the bedroom door.

“Don’t go,” you protested, pushing the covers back so you could lean forward and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. “Stay here. With me,” you grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips for emphasis.

“I thought you wanted to sleep in,” he laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and lowering you onto your back, stretching his massive frame out on top of you. “Hm?” he teased, dropping soft, open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“I believe my exact words were, ‘I want to stay in bed all morning,’” you corrected him with a smirk. “Didn’t specify what we’d be doing.”

“Oh?” He lifted his head, gazing down at you with an arched brow.

“You can go surfing tomorrow,” you whispered, reaching for the drawstrings of his board shorts.

His breath hitched as he leaned down, brushing his nose against yours. “Staying in suddenly sounds like a really good idea.”

late night prompts

#harrison knott #harrison knott x reader #press play #harrison drabble #lewis pullman

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delopsia · 3 months

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Harrison has SUCH alpha energy though…. raging breeding kink with that one

Ugh, you have such a good point there 😩 y'all wanna know the real reason why they call him Harrison Knott? I'll see myself out

Harrison strikes me as the kind of guy who would intentionally hide the whole alpha thing; he isn't necessarily shy or insecure about his status, but he's obsessed with the idea of falling in love with him for who he is, not his status. He's an alpha and then some. Think of a/b/o statuses as liquid in a cup. Some are fuller than others.

Harrison's is overflowing and pouring off the side of the damn table.

And he's painfully aware of it. Growing up, he found himself constantly pursued, all because of this dumb status he's found himself with. Fun at first, but it gets old very quickly. Harrison is very, very careful to scrub himself down twice a day, uses special soap, and takes medication to reduce the scent he naturally produces.

He used to love surfing with friends in more public areas, but once he'd start sweating, heads would turn, and suddenly, he had a bunch of unwanted interest. Attention that he hadn't received when he was passing as a beta. So he surfs alone or with close friends. He pays extra to access a private gym, and if he ever feels like jogging, it's in very secluded areas.

Enter, you.

A quiet omega who wandered into his place of work, looking for a CD by a band so niche that even he didn't know where to start looking for it. The owner had said they carried it, but not a soul knew where the hell it had been stashed. Harrison offered to look for it while you visited some other shops, but you'd politely insisted that you help him. It's a good thing, too. The CD had fallen behind a cabinet too heavy to be moved. Harrison couldn't reach it, but you could.

You returned a week later, looking for another, and Harrison's joke about you intentionally picking hard-to-find albums devolved into you staying long after the disc had been found. Chatting in between customers, debating on songs, challenging each other's music taste. It was settled; you'd each take the week to curate the perfect playlist and exchange them. But Harrison called in sick the day you came in, and the girl at the desk passed along a note with his phone number.

At the time, you'd found it odd that he hardly had a scent. Even betas have their own unique aroma, but with no further indication of what he could be, you presumed him to be one. Blissfully unaware and, quite frankly, didn't care what his secondary gender was. How could you?

He's always so sweet, fetching the door for you, distracts you and pays the bill when you two go to a local diner. Takes you dancing, covers your drink with his palm when you leave it unattended, and drives you everywhere, no matter the distance. He takes you on a day trip to a niche record shop with a CD you've been hopelessly searching for. Leaves you weak in the knees when he walks you up to your door after, hesitantly leans in, and kisses you right then and there, under the pale outdoor light.

For a while, it's not spoken of. It's as if that kiss never happened; he's busy with work and figuring out his schooling, and you're suddenly hosting a friend who, without warning, was broken up with and cast out of her apartment. Between being a shoulder to cry on, helping her settle in, and other life events, you lose track of your dates.

When Harrison invites you to join him on a trip upstate, saying something about getting accepted into two schools and not being able to decide unless he saw them in person. It's a welcome escape and an adventure all wrapped into one. Your friend can have her time alone and watch over the place while you're gone, and you can go and blow off responsibilities with a pretty-faced beta for two or three days.

Your face feels oddly warm that morning, but your friend says you look fine, and it seems to go away once you step out into the cool morning air. Harrison is two hours into the drive when he tilts his head and asks if you're feeling alright. You don't get why he's asking; nothing relatively seems off. In fact, you're well enough to walk to every place he wants to see. The record shop, the beach, the actual school itself, and all of the niche little places around it, looking for something, anything to help him decide.

Until you're standing in a convenience store, and someone—an alpha, approaches you. You don't understand his heavy flirting until he mentions your heat. And then it hits you. Your heat was due to start today. You're stumbling back, all too warm, muttering an apology as you turn to walk away, but this guy is persistent, grabbing hold of your shoulder before you can get too far.

Or at least...he tries.

Harrison comes out of absolute nowhere. Shoving himself between you like a brick wall, and he's arguing, saying something, but you can't hear it. There's a new scent in the room. Faint at first, but it follows you as he guides you out to the car, promising to come back with your chosen snacks. Something akin to pineapple and a fresh ocean breeze, like you've been transported straight to the beach.

Harrison thinks you've figured out that he's an alpha.

You just think he smells good.

It's hard to recall how things escalated after he carried you back to the hotel room. Whether it be the moment your pained plea for help met his ears or when his kind, inexplicably dark eyes met with yours. But one way or another, you find yourself gasping at the feeling of his scruffy mouth against your lips, cradling your face between his big hands, promising he'll take care of you; he'll make it stop hurting.

He eats you out like a man starved. Works you through two long-winded orgasms, has a sheen of sweat clinging to his flushed skin when he comes back up to kiss you again. It's still not enough, but you can't even think about it because something has just occurred to you.

He's an alpha.

And he's just shocked to the core that you didn't realize until now. But maybe that's also what makes him so eager to please you; it's everything he's craved. To be wanted, regardless of his status, and hear you are, mid-heat, begging for him for the sole reason of it being him.

Regardless of the reason, it's a wonder you can even walk when he's done with you. Hiking your legs over his broad shoulders, biceps bulging as he fucks you nice and proper. Makes you beg him to knot you, to breed you nice 'n full, make a complete mess of your poor pussy. Shushing and kissing you as it catches, grunting prettily into your ear and filling you so full that your head spins.

The trip is only meant to be two days. It extends to five because he can't keep himself away from you. Rubbing his scent all over you, nipping at your soft skin with his teeth, and grumbling into your neck. The closest thing he can get to a contented purr. He bends you over the sink, fucks you into the mattress, and guides you to ride him on the couch, never once misses the chance to sink in deep and let your bodies tether. Grows annoyed when he can't keep his cum from leaking out and down your pretty thighs.

And when you do head home, you can only press pause for so long. Fighting the temptation to pull over and tangle in the back seat, only held back by the fear of being caught. Your friend isn't home when you tumble through the door, and you're so thankful that she isn't because your shirt is off before you make it into your room. Luggage long forgotten because you can only focus on the warm, oversized alpha squeezing you in his big arms.

In fact, you keep him there for the night. And the one after that.

Over the course of a short trip, Harrison goes from passing as a beta to going without the medications and washes, shamelessly rubbing his scent all over you and bugs you to do the same 'cause he needs everyone to know he belongs to you. The deciding factor on schools is you; he wants to be fifteen minutes away rather than a couple of hours. And then your friend gets back on her feet, finds a place of her own, and one day, Harisson quits leaving your home.

This man loves to watch you mosey about the house, gathering up his softest clothing and situating it all into one big nest on the bed. Harisson isn't the biggest on scenting things that aren't you, but if you hold something up to him and ask for it, he'll gladly rub the side of his head against it until you deem it suitable. Always waits for you to invite him inside of it, too; it's such an intimate space, and he'd hate to upset you by intruding. One of his friends accidentally opened the bedroom door on you while looking for the bathroom, and Harisson damn near lost his mind. "This is a cute bedroom." "Yeah, it is; now shut the damn door."

There is rarely a day when a head doesn't turn Harisson's way; classmates, coworkers, friends, and strangers alike hit on him, but he's only got eyes for you. If you'll let him, he'll parade you around every chance he gets, showing you off to the world; grows possessive when anyone takes that as an invitation to touch you. It's a wonder it takes him so long to mark you as his because he sure is eager to ensure everyone sees the healing scar on his pretty neck.

Everything you want, you get. He spoils you to no end. He supports the whole independence thing, but once he gets on his feet as a doctor, he's too happy to let you become a stay-at-home omega if that's what you want. Because there is nothing this man loves more than walking through the front door of his house and being greeted with your chirps and kisses.

...well, he might enjoy the sound of you begging him to knot you a little bit more, but that's neither here nor there.

#harrison knott #press play #harrison knott x reader #delgato's asks #omegaverse

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