ALPHA HARRY/BETA YN COWORKERS (Patreon)

HIIIIIII!!!! this sort of idea has been stuck in my head so I wanted to see if you liked it too! It honestly might be a fic here soon if you like it enough :-)) Sorry if it looks weird posted I had to post on my phone!!

OKAY LOVE YOUU!!

i.

Y/N was at a loss.

She isn’t sure what to do — this isn’t a situation she’s ever really been in before. Finding her coworker clearly in the brunt of their mating cycle in a supply closet had not been on the list of things she would believe might happen to her. Yet here she is, staring at her seat buddy, Harry Styles, dripping sweat and with a wild look in his gaze. The scent of his rut permeates the room, intense and all-encompassing — it almost makes her eyes water. Her eyes, which are as wide as saucers, stare at the scene before her.

When her brain finally caught up to what was happening, she rushed inside, “Oh my god,” she slipped the door closed with a click, turning the light on, “Harry? Are you okay?”

Really, she shouldn’t be here. Harry was relatively grumpy, sure; he was quiet and sometimes grunted more than he spoke. But she could tell something had been off today. Whereas he’d usually be a little more huffy and grumbly to himself, he was completely quiet. Almost eerily so. And for someone who usually doesn’t wear a very thick scent patch, the one he had pressed to his throat was medical grade — the kind they make you wear when you’re in school so your scent doesn’t distract the other students. He was sweating, and he barely even took a sip of his coffee by noon when he was usually on his second cup by noon. 

So she’d been worried when he got up and rushed off, a trail of his scent that she definitely shouldn’t be smelling in his wake. With that intense scent patch, to smell any bit of him was sort of crazy. His pheromones must be insane right now. 

Maybe it would’ve been smarter to find the nurse in the infirmary and have her go check on him. Chasing after an alpha that may be rutting isn’t the smartest thing to do, especially when the alpha isn’t the biggest fan of you to begin with (Y/N tries — she really does — she talks to him even when he doesn’t respond, and makes sure to include him in group orders when everyone else is too scared to look in his directions They’re making progress, she thinks, because when she first started here he actually refused to look over in her direction when she sat down for work for the day and greeted him. Now, he at least looks over and tilts his head in the barest of nods. It isn’t much but a win is a win). But she really didn’t have time to critically think about it. Contrary to popular belief, betas can be just as affected by the scent of a mating cycle as alphas or omegas. Y/N was worried about him, of course, but also the scent of someone she’d only ever caught a whiff of was really distracting. Alluring, like it’s meant to be — Harry smells like amber and vanilla; earthy but sweet. 

It pulled her to this closet, and it urged her to open the door. It’s what swarms around her right now and actually makes it pretty difficult to think straight. 

“Does it look like I’m okay?” He snapped through gritted teeth, “Why did you follow me here?”

Her eyebrows pulled in, “I —“ she began, though words are a little hard when she’s looking at Harry right now. The way his top is unbuttoned down to just above his navel, revealing the flushed, damp hue of his skin. How he had his legs spread — how huge his cock was pressed against the zipper of his jeans. It’s gigantic, holy shit. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he had a knot swollen at the base already. That’s what it looked like. “You’ve been acting weird all day,” she finally replied, “And I was worried about you.” 

Harry, with hair matted to his forehead, snorted but it didn’t seem like he found much humor in anything. “You need to be worried about yourself,” he grumbled instead, "Smelling like that and coming to work is ridiculous.”

Now Y/N’s brows really do furrow, “What? How is my scent the problem! You’re literally the one in rut right now!”

She does sniff herself, after he says it, but she’s confused — her scent is not normally very strong at all, and nobody else has said anything. Niall would’ve surely mentioned something about it by now, he’s practically on top of her every chance he gets. He comments on any fluctuation in her scent at all, but there’s been none of that today. Was it because they were sitting right next to each other? Is that why he was smelling her more? But what changed from every other day she was sitting beside him? It isn’t like she’s changed anything recently.

“Yes, and it’s your fault!” He accuses.

“My fault? You’re not making any sense at all!” Y/N is feeling defensive now, sure — what was he even talking about? How could she have possibly been at fault for this? 

He looks pissed, readjusting himself in his trousers and Y/N is trying very hard not to let her eyes linger, “You’re always walking around with those flimsy little scent patches. It’s ridiculous — they do nothing to cover you up! I sit next to you and it’s so sweet and intense I feel it sitting on my tongue. Some beta you are — you smell just like an omega. It’s maddening, I can barely fucking think when you’re around.” Then he waved his hand, “This wasn’t supposed to start for another week, but you walk around smelling like you’re ready to be bred.” 

Y/N’s heart is hammering — there’s a part of her that wants to be livid with how he’s speaking to her. He’s always been rough but he’s never just been an outright jerk before. And there’s another part of her that is really into it, because she’s always liked it when someone’s a little mean to her. It’s part of the reason she’s been harbouring a probably poorly concealed crush on him since she started, because he’s pretty and grouchy and she wants to crawl inside of his shirt pocket and stay there all day. 

Still, he’s saying that her scent is what threw him into his rut. That she smells so intensely to him, he can barely think when she’s nearby. She feels a little insecure about it, honestly — which is why she has to ask, “Well, is it a bad smell or —“

“I wish it was,” he’s being so honest right now, and this is the most they’ve ever spoken to each other she thinks, “Then maybe I could just hate it, and ignore it — tell someone that you reek and have them move your seat,” her face feels hot, and her tummy sad, before he continues, “But you smell so fucking good, I can’t even bear the thought of being without it.”

That was a lot to admit, but he seems resolute in his words. His chest heaves with each breath, fingers digging into his thighs. “Really?” She presses, stepping forward, “Is that why you don’t like me?”

“What? Who the hell said I didn’t like you?” 

This makes her brows raise at least, finally leaving their furrowed position and crinkling her forehead in a different way.

“Oh, I just thought that — you know….you don’t really act as you like me, so I figured.”

“You’re not as smart as you seem then.” He scoffs, “Why wouldn’t I like you? I just can’t breathe in your direction or I might pop a knot.” He squeezed his eyes closed, like finally it’s settling in his head how much he’s saying — how honest he’s being. It's not like Y/N minds at all. Everything he’s saying is making her heart race and her underwear wet. If she were an omega she thinks that it’d be more noticeable, but it’s almost like he can still smell the minute change. He must be able to, if he’s that tuned in with her scent. If he’s been holding himself back all this time, because he thought she smelled so good. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, jaw clenched like he’s attempting to steel himself, “I’m being vulgar, I know, it’s just…hard to think right now.” He swallows thickly, “Thank you for coming to check on me but you — you need to leave. I’ll — I just need to calm myself down and then I’ll leave early.”

Y/N tilted her head, still stuck on what he said before, “But I’m a beta?” She finally said, then motioned outside, “I don’t know how my scent could be affecting you so much. Are you sure it isn’t Minnie? She’s right beside us, maybe you’re getting our scents all mixed up.”

Minnie was an omega who sat in a cubicle over from them — they weren’t cubicle buddies, but she was close enough that sometimes Y/N could even smell her. That would make more sense, she thinks, over an alpha being this caught up over a beta's scent. Alpha/beta pairs alone are relatively uncommon, mostly for scenting reasons. Alphas typically prefer sweeter, more aggressive scents than omegas do, as opposed to the typically mild, less intense scent of a beta. Y/N's scent could be sweet, sure, but more like a breeze carrying a scent to your nose rather than this permeating presence Harry seems to see it as. 

“I can scent you,” she offers softly, instead of leaving, holding out her wrist, “That — it would make you feel better, right? At least to get you home until you can take care of….yourself. I really don’t mind.” 

Harry’s eyes are on her, unmoving, unshaking. He looks like he’s moments from pouncing on her which she should be more concerned about than she is. Y/N waits patiently for him to answer — clearly, he isn’t horribly opposed to it, or else he would’ve denied her right away. Instead, he puts his arms behind his back and clasps his hands at his wrist, “Yes,” he nods, “Yes, I want that. I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.”

Does she want him to keep his hands to himself? Honestly, not really. She wouldn’t mind if he’d grab her, pin her to the floor, and let her feel his knot for herself. The one that she unintentionally caused, apparently. But she refrains from saying that — it probably wouldn’t be in her best interest right now. Besides, as much as she thinks she’d like fucking Harry, she didn’t want to in a supply closet of all places.

So she gets closer. Y/N crouches down onto her knees in front of him, beside an old broom and a box of what may or may not be office supplies. This close makes her feel even more insane because of how good he smells, but she starts to breathe through her nose so she doesn’t say or do something stupid. She’s never smelled someone whose scent drove her this crazy before. Y/N would like to scent him by shoving her nose into his throat and huffing him, but she figured that wouldn’t be smart. Instead, she uses her wrist, leaning in closer. Before her skin even touched him she could feel the heat radiating off of him. And when her wrist does make contact, he’s scorching to the touch.

The moan that leaves him is guttural and makes her insides flutter, a sharp twist of arousal in her belly. Y/N lets her scent ooze from herself — she never wears patches on her wrist because she’s never needed to (or at least she thought she didn’t). This means there’s no medicinal underbelly that her scent has to work through to get to him. It’s purely her, right off the bat. His eyelids flutter and his mouth hangs open — it looks like he’s about to drool, even, when she starts to rub her wrist in a circular motion. Harry trembles, and Y/N thinks it’s cute. She’s never seen him particularly like this before, all flushed and needy. Especially when, with pink cheeks, he wriggles and tilts himself until her wrist is off his neck and pressed against his nose. He breathes in deep — a slow, long drag like he was taking her down to his lungs to fill them up with it. 

She feels the faintest graze of his tongue, lulling around her skin softly. Y/N shivers, but just as soon as it was there, he pulls himself away. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, voice strained, “Okay, thank you, I…you need to leave now.”

Y/N nods, standing up slowly, finally listening, “I— let me know, if you need anything during — during it, y'know. I’ll help.” 

He shudders, “I will.” The bulge is throbbing — she can see his cock kick at the offer, fighting against the zipper of his pants like it might just bust free. It takes every bit of her to grab onto the handle and leave him, though she desperately wants to stay. He could fill her mouth with it — she’d let him knot her mouth. Or her hand. Or any of her holes, she thinks she welcomes it. 

She makes a beeline for the bathroom. Y/N smells like rutting alpha probably so she needs to wipe herself down and at least try to cover it up. The only person who would notice might be Niall though. Still, she hardly thinks Harry would be okay with his business being spread even if it was unintentional. 

When she looks at herself in the mirror, she looks so far gone. Her body urges her to go back and help him. To stick her hand down his pants and feel the swell of his knot against her fingertips. 

She really, really, really hopes he calls her.