#beta reader

[necro-romantic]

Are you 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

Looking for a new fantasy book??? Do you like found family, body horror, gore, world building, magic systems, and queer characters?

Do you want it to be free and also get early access???

Consider…. Beta reading my draft:

It’s been over fifty years since the last city was taken by The Godeater, a vicious cult leader who has spent centuries terrorizing the lands surrounding Aledori. But it seems their hunger has woken back up and Lalit- the harvest god of a small town- is the first to have their life swallowed whole by The Godeater’s ravenous appetite. When their town burns to the ground, killing everyone they’ve ever known, they run to Aledori, hoping to ask the city’s goddess Forge for help tracking down the murderer of their people.

With the help of newfound friends, and the common goal of preventing the Godeater from consuming Forge and adding Aledori to their list of conquered cities, Lalit does all they can to avenge their people. As they do, something is waking up in the Gray Realm, the land of souls and energy. Something that seems to answer to Lalit. Something that has watched the Godeater destroy countless lives, and is intent on bringing back a balance that’s been disrupted by centuries of selfish hoarding of magical energy. But will that balance return soon enough to save Aledori?

[chaosbean]

[franksaidso]

if any mutuals r by chance interested in helping me beta read my fics please let me know!!!!! im really interested in growing & appreciate nitpicky feedback + you’d get to read em early ..,.,.

[rheas-chaos-anthology]

Questions to ask beta readers

General:

Were you confused at any point of the story?

What genre would you say this book is?

When did you put the story down?

Is the ending satisfying?

If you had to cut 3 scenes what would they be?

When did you feel like the story really began?

What was the last book you read before this story?

Characters:

Do you get any of the characters names confused?

Which character is your favorite?

If you had to remove a character who would you and why? (you don't have to remove the character, just make sure their role is meaningful)

Which character do you relate to the most?

Which character do you relate to the least?

Do the characters feel real?

Are character relationships believable?

Are the goals clear and influence the plot?

Are the characters distinct (voice, motivations, etc)

Setting:

Which setting was clearest to you?

Which setting was the most memorable?

Am including enough/too much detail?

Plot and conflict:

Are the internal and external conflicts well defined for the main characters?

Are the internal conflicts and the external conflicts organic and believable?

Are there enough stakes?

Are the plot twists believable but still unexpected?

[lumieresdreams]

i'm starting to write the first chapter of my sylus x non!mc fic and i feel like such a newbie cause suddenly words are escaping me as i type. that and i don't usually write, i draw more often than i write and when i do, they're hcs and short oneshots fnjaehbfae

but i suppose that's normal for the first pass, i just need to carry on with the rest of the chapter then add/replace/remove anything after. know that i'm an amateur and this feels like such a big project to me atm nfjahbefa

I DON'T HAVE ANY BETA READERS EITHER. I MEAN I HAVE ONE, BUT THEY'RE SUPER BUSY SO LIKE-

idk i guess this is my way of looking for anyone who'd be interested being a proofreader? ; v ;

also please suggest a site that isn't google docs to try and conduct this cause i honestly feel lost and don't know where to start pfff-

[eveningcherryblossoms]

It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Part 9

A platonic yandere Batfam x neglected beta reader story

Alfred Pennyworth, even before becoming the butler of a pack led by a billionaire that was also secretly the first vigilante of Gotham, had lived quite an unconventional life. Despite being an omega, he had not merely joined but thrived in the military and the secret service, serving Her Majesty. Later on he had been a Shakespearean actor–an omegan field among other branches of arts, to be sure, although not truly conventional or even respectable. Then somehow, he topped it all by becoming the butler of the Wayne pack, despite how butlers and housekeepers tended to be betas.

Yes, Alfred's life had been quite unconventional. The Wayne pack–both the one he initially joined and the one at present–were just as if not more unconventional. It might be ordinary now, but at the time Alfred began, it was highly unusual for two alphas to marry. For two high-class, wealthy alphas to marry for love, then remain in love and live harmoniously without a whisper of an affair, and have their child present as a prime alpha? It was highly unusual even without adding the fact that Alfred was the sole omega member of the pack, that the pack had no beta member at all.

And the latter fact continued to this day. Alfred could despair over that as he despaired over the failed marriage between your mother and Bruce.

Bruce had been better already then, thanks to spending the past two years with Dick. That had given Alfred reason to hope he would continue improving, to have a mate and perhaps a pup of his own blood–no offense to all Bruce's adopted children. And Bruce did take an interest in your mother! Dick–generally ready to present himself as an obstacle–actually supported Bruce in his choice of a mate as well! It was too good to be true... And, alas, the relationship Alfred expected indeed turned out to be false.

When your mother left with an unburdened smile and no backward glance, Alfred observed the shattered expression on Bruce's face changed to shuttered, and silently condemned your mother for bringing pain upon the pack.

When six years later news of her demise came accompanied by that of your existence? Alfred once more observed, and silently condemned you to an existence as an outsider to the pack.

All under the excuse, It is unseemly for a butler to be the first to welcome a new pack member. As if Alfred hadn't always done so with the pups Bruce brought to the manor while Bruce himself was preoccupied.

You were a good child, however, which was more the pity. Polite, respectful, considerate, sensible, everything that Alfred had more or less given up on his pack members exhibiting at all times. You never cried to him, and as the proverb went: The crying child gets the milk. You didn't cry, so with time Alfred no longer consciously withheld you the 'milk' you deserved; that was all relegated to the background alongside other less important matters.

Nevertheless, Alfred was scarcely unobservant. Indeed, he hadn't needed to cook, clean, or do the laundry for you for about the past three years at least, and after the first and only time Bruce's reputation as a good father got smeared due to being unavailable for you, your care at school had been entrusted to your late mother's lawyer. But Alfred's eyes and ears and brain still worked perfectly, and he knew some matters about you were becoming... suspicious.

There could be perfectly good reasons for them, Alfred knew. It had always been your habit to do everything alone, after all, and it was the custom for a recently presented alpha or omega to crave their own private space away from the pack. But.

But.

Alfred decided to keep quiet for some time still. If it turned out he was right about his suspicion, though...

Alfred acknowledged that he did leave you alone when you should have been properly cared for, as a form of punishment for your mother having broken Bruce's heart and dashed Alfred's hope for a more conventional pack life. Still, you were Bruce's first biological child, the only civilian one. The blood that ran through your veins was that of the Waynes, Alfred's pack.

If it turned out you were intending to leave the Waynes as your mother had done, he would not hesitate applying all he'd learnt from his highly unconventional life to retain you in the Wayne pack.

On this day that marked five months since your terrible sixteenth birthday, you were engaged in high-stake tag with Damian.

Or, to put it in another, simpler way–you were being chased by him.

It... wasn't supposed to be like that, yeah.

You were just innocently minding your business, keeping your head down as usual. It had been a fairly pleasant morning–with Bruce supposedly sleeping off a hangover, Dick still barely keeping his head above water (thanks to you uncovering more information and leaking them one by one), Jason's whereabout unknown as per the custom after his miraculous resurrection, and Tim easily waved off with an excuse of prior engagement in Chinatown.

You had barely turned the corner, feeling vicious joy knowing he was drooping like a dog denied a walk like you used to whenever the Waynes went away without remembering you, before you gave up on them. Then like instant divine karma came Damian, practically ambushing and exacting you to drive him also to Chinatown.

"...not that I don't want to–" You really, really didn't, "–why aren't you asking Mr Pennyworth?"

Damian clicked his tongue. "Pennyworth is busy tending to Father. Are you going to drive me or not?"

"Sorry, Damian," you told him with the shameful, apologetic tone you'd long since perfected. "I can drive, yes, but I haven't gotten a license yet. I'll be taking the bus."

The way Damian looked at you, you might as well have said you would be taking the garbage truck. It would have been funny if it hadn't been vexing, knowing that someone who was technically your biological brother never felt unwelcomed to help himself to the manor's facilities. The fake slightly amused smile remained on your face from sheer effort alone.

Shockingly, despite his apparent disgust at the prospect, Damian insisted on going with you on the bus. He was displeased with the walk to the bus stop, the waiting time, the cleanliness (lack of it, really), the weather, the bus condition, the number of people inside, the smell, and worst of all he had no hesitation to make said displeasure known. You found it incredibly tempting to lose Damian on the way.

Somehow, you managed to stay strong. Nobody even spat your way or anything despite Damian's vitriol–though it very likely had something to do with his dark glares and the daggers he none too subtly carried on his person.

Once the two of you got off the bus, you turned towards Damian. "I'll see you later, I have to go–"

"Lies." Damian interrupted you mercilessly. "You merely told Drake that as you were too much of a milksop to tell him he was being a nuisance. You dared attempt the same thing to me?"

See, at this point, you knew that the sensible and safe decision was to assure Damian otherwise and obligingly keep him company–because for reasons unclear to you that seemed to be what he wanted at the moment. You were hiding being a beta. Consequently you needed to keep your head down until you could be free. Consequently you should make the sensible and safe decision.

Be sensible. Play it safe. Act like the good beta you are.

That kind of thought would be your undoing. Why? Because when it crossed your mind, by the time you realized it, you were already running.

While Damian, the little alpha, was chasing.

You could've hurled from the combined thrill and anxiety.

Subconsciously you tried convincing yourself: It would be good practice in case you'd have to run from a pursuing alpha. If you could stop yourself from running as fast and moving as nimbly as you actually could, it would misinform Damian of your real physical stats. Etcetera etcetera.

The truth remained that you were being really, really reckless right now.

Deliberately, though you could easily swing over the two-meter-high wall, you pretended to heft yourself with some difficulty before jumping off into the alleyway behind the wall. You smoothly landed, but kicked over the lid of a trash can you could have fallen on anyway, before taking off to the right. A not-so-distant growl prompted you to step into a bustling dim sum restaurant and thrust a handful of bills into the owner's hand with a murmured instruction in Cantonese. By the time Damian skidded in front of the eatery, his phone vibrated with a message you sent him: a selfie of yourself throwing a peace sign before boarding a bus, simply captioned lol bye.

Damian's almost literal howl of rage before he stomped away was like music to your ears. You shut your eyes and sighed in contentment, basking under the sunlight... on the rooftop of the eatery.

Yeah, back then you asked the owner to let you go up the rooftop. You took the selfie a few days ago just in case you needed it to throw off your pursuers. Even your engagement in Chinatown today wasn't entirely a lie, whatever Damian said. You were planning to take more selfies here and in surrounding neighborhoods.

An audible snort, followed by giggles that failed to be muffled, snapped you back to attention. It was, to quote Damian's most frequent criticism, sloppy of you. You leaped to your feet, scanning your surroundings, before slowly looking up.

Your eyes widened spotting the source of said giggles perched on a higher roof.

"Your Grace?"

A/N: The first part of this chapter was fueled by two (2) bad Alfred Pennyworth posts I accidentally saw yesterday, thank you whoever it was for inspiring me 🙏 As to the next part, well, nobody commented on beta reader feeling tempted to do smth risky sooo 😗

Forgot to tell you guys in the previous part (not that it's important lol) but my PACKAGE CAME BACK YEAH!!! 💃🕺 Turns out it was missent, my neighbor told me I should've used a different address bc the one I put down could be easily mistaken for another area under the same name 😔

Taglist: @randomlyappearingartist @bellethesleepypotato @nirvanaxx1942 @tenswife @galaxypurplerose @shycreatorreview @cupid73 @time-shardz @mikusamsan @simpingpandas @kore-of-the-underworld @elmichi0 @mirabilis-polaris @farsketch @altumsomnum @hai-there-how-are-you @vanessa-boo @ashjade19 @yandere-enthusiast @a-lurking-fae @hyperfixatedcatlover @leeiasure @luckynemi @lowkeyjarrr @lunoorbonoor @deathbynarcisstick @tacendxx @staarflowerr @anonlikesfics @magical-panda2 @whognuthis @arwenyukiamoto @hon3ydewcaram3l @lilyalone @jazzyspaceghost @teabutnerdy @bunbunbread @darktrashpoetry @conqcakes @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @unrelatedlily @ciatin @ratchetprime211 @mybones537 @anonasatoruu @vikkus-main @shqyou @sitepathos @ee-1ovelifedownthedrain @totallynotacat13 @ratterpatter @hayourdadgon @justannie18 @jungkooks-tiny-waist @holderoflostmemories

[octupuscrow]

Hiiii ,I am writing a dbda one shot about the night that Edwin and charles meet , it's called "don't fear the reaper " and I was wondering if any of you would like to be a beta reader ? I am a bit stuck and also English is not my first language, love you guys

[tazzy-five]

Finding beta readers for a novel is so scary. Like hi, here, please read this thing I’ve been working on for 10 years. It contains thousands of little pieces of me. I want you to tear it apart so I can put it back together even stronger. It has dragons.

[invincibledc]

I saw this was in your list of things to write but nobody's sent you an ask yet (I think) sooo...

How would an Omegaverse Batfam react if M!Sibling!reader presented as an Alpha/Beta/Omega? Would they be more protective if reader was an Omega? More like a sibling rivalry situation if they're an Alpha?

||OMEGAVERSE AU!BATFAM X BATBRO!READER||

A/N: thanks for requesting! Here’s your order. <33

ALPHA

If batbro was ever an alpha, which I hc that if the batfam was in omegaverse that all the boys would either be betas or alphas. If batbro was an alpha, there would definitely be some kind of rivalry between the boys and batbro. But never too serious. It would line wolves playfully roughhousing until one says “ima be the main alpha when blah blah blah dies.” Then it gets a little serious.

But other than that, it’s probably nothing much rather than the batfam making sure you don’t crash out and act crazy around omegas. Dick probably tries to make you do dates because he already found himself one from a hook up. You can deny all you want but really your older brother just wants you to be happy with your omega.

Jason probably warns you about real dangerous omegas he heard around when patrol as red hood, he probably puts a tracker on you.

Tim, he doesn’t care much since you are an alpha like the rest of the family. He’s a beta, he’s smart enough to know you can take care of yourself. But at the same time there are dangerous omegas that will try and drug his brother he cares for since he is a Wayne. So he puts a tracker onto you as well.

Damian tries hard to not care for you. He glares at you, he basically growls at you. Trying to put on a hard shell, but he can’t help but stand by you everytime. He’s an alpha, and to another alpha to another. The pack must protect each other.

BETA

If batbro was a beta, I feel like the family would be very normal about it. Not disappointed that their brother is not an alpha, but at least he’s a beta.

The family is so glad their brother is a beta since beta’s are practically human beings in the omegaverse. No rut/heat, no aggressive or submissive behavior that can lead to tragedies. Just pure normal behavior.

Though that doesn’t mean your alpha and beta brothers won’t be protective of you. Of course they’re protective of you! You’re the one that puts the brothers and family together like glue like Alfred. You’re sane, you’re calm, and you’re a beta. You’re the package they need to relax after a terrible patrol.

Neither the less, it’s pretty chill for batbro who’s a beta.

OMEGA

Oh boy..if batbro was ever an omega….the batfamily is so protective over their omega family member. Always making sure the omega male has suppressants on during heat season. If batbro was ever around an alphas that wasn’t any of the batfamily members, Jason and dick are immediately behind the omega trying to see if the alpha has any bad intentions. Alphas know another alpha. Especially Jason since he knows how alphas can get around omegas.

Damian wouldn’t hesitate to chop off any alpha’s head for his brother. And Tim, Tim doesn’t mind doxing and scaring a few alphas away from his brother.

Bruce, ooooh boy. Bruce would definitely go Batman mode if an alpha even dares to try and be aggressive to his poor omega of a son. Jason would even give the alpha a little red hood visit with a gun loaded in his hand. These two don’t play.

They always keep tabs on you, because in omegaverse being an omega is basically a death wish. But being in Gotham is even worse than a death wish itself. They don’t care if you trained to fight as well and can kick mean ass. There can still be people that can always beat batbro up so they just track him 24/7.

[rheas-chaos-anthology]

Create your characters voice

Write one to ten pages (I usually do 5 for major character, 1 or 2 for side characters) as your character. Anything they would say, opinions, diary entries, complaining, etc.

Ooooh I have collected some helpful things to maybe include:

adopting slang from people they are close too/love interest

do they have a raspy voice? High pitched? Overly sweet? Commanding? Figure that out.

to make characters have their own voice vary rhythm, word choice, use of profanity, how much they talk about themselves or others, their politics.

Take some dialogue and ask if readers would be able to tell who is speaking with no context.

Write an AITA post from their point of view.

Identify what role your character has, a leader? a follower? a disrupter? a rebel? an antagonist? a peacemaker? How does that change the way they speak?

The character traits will tell you what your characters will say or how they will say it.

[moomoo-min]

Beta reader available

Hey, fellow writers!

I'm excited to announce I'm opening up slots for beta reading services! As someone who recently earned my BA in Creative Writing from SNHU, I've spent years immersed in the art of storytelling, dissecting what makes a manuscript truly gripping.

If you're looking for a fresh, informed perspective on your novel—someone who understands plot, character, pacing, and all those crucial elements—I'm here to help you tighten up your work before it goes out into the world. Think of me as your first discerning reader, ready to offer honest, constructive feedback.

I'm charging $0.01 per word, which means a 75,000-word novel would be $750. It's an investment in getting your story the attention it deserves! You'll pay through PayPal before any reading/editing starts.

I'm willing to read any genre, but there are certain topics I won't read about. These include: incest of any kind, graphic rape/sexual assault, pedophilia or other relationships with inappropriate power imbalances, torture, fetish content, etc.

Leave a comment or send me a message if you're interested, or if you have questions. Let's get your manuscript polished!

[lichlover]

hi, y'all. i'm broke. i filed taxes as a contractor in the state of california, which was my first mistake.

i don't know what to say except that i'm ashamed, and scared. i know a lot of us are in it together, especially now.

if you've ever enjoyed my fics or swung by my ao3, absolutely anything and everything helps. additionally, i am a professional editor (fanfiction, original fiction, academia, business, you name it), and i do resume and cover letter consults for $70. you can DM me with any inquiries. references upon request.

ko-fi

here's my cat for your troubles. her name is saffron cake.

[eveningcherryblossoms]

It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Part 8

A platonic yandere Batfam x neglected beta reader story

You belonged to Damian.

It didn't matter what gender you'd present as. It didn't matter that you were so inferior that none of the pack, especially Father, cared for you. He and you alone amongst Father's children shared his blood, ergo you belonged to him.

Back at the League, Nanda Parbat, Damian had always wanted a sibling. Older or younger, alpha or omega didn't matter. Damian wanted, craved a sibling of his own–to train and study and fight with, to share inside jokes and break bread and play with. When he finally learned of Father and his chosen pack members, Damian was... upset. Disappointed and puzzled.

Why did Father claim so many alpha and omega children unrelated to him? Why did he not claim you, the pup he actually sired with an omega he had mated? Why did you not assert your rights?

Three years after his arrival, Damian had grown–so Richard had cooingly termed it, heedless of Damian's admittedly deliberately lazy stabbing. He had accepted Father's choice, acknowledged Father's chosen children as his pack members worthy of respect and trust and loyalty and love. Still he had not been able to understand matters involving you.

You were... a disappointment too. A far cry from the sort of sibling Damian had fantasized back in the League. Weak. Ignorant. Sloppy. Contented to muck around at the bottom. It was positively degrading to call you his sibling. Quite likely that was why Father refused to make you part of his pack.

But you were Damian's sibling. You were his. He might have little authority of his own though you had always, quite sensibly, respected it–but the moment he succeeded Father, both as Batman and the Wayne pack alpha, Damian was resolved to officially claim you.

Whatever you presented as. Whether you wanted to or not.

(There was a tiny little secret Damian never told any of the pack. Not even Richard. Damian dared wager Father had no idea about it either. Back at the League, it was customary for the alphas to be the ones fighting and going out on missions, while the omegas would stand guard and defend the bases. But, deep in the heart of the palace, there was also the harem of betas. About half of them having naturally presented as such, but the remaining half had been alphas and omegas who had failed in their duties to the League, surgically altered for their more fitting post of the League's betas.)

(You were Damian's undeniably inferior sibling. It didn't matter what you'd be; Damian would make you into a beta for himself and for the pack.)

Strolling down Fashion District, you quietly checked four months' mark.

At the moment, you were in disguise. You'd been brushing off your acting skill, but a neat disguise could help throw potential pursuers off the track. It took you some time to gain this particular skill, but–as you continually got surprised seeing your reflection in windows and mirrors that abounded Fashion District–you knew that you got it now.

This wasn't even a full-blown disguise–you did it the other day, donning a complete Gothic Lolita ensemble with thick makeup, snow-white ringlet pigtails and blood-red contact lenses. Today you merely styled your hair differently, swapped your usual glasses for ones with a different frame, and ditched the turtleneck-and-denim-jacket combo you'd been deliberately using while at the manor or school. But combined with a different 'default' expression, a different gait, a different character than you usually exhibited? Your own classmates couldn't recognize you.

Your classmates, not your pathetic excuse of a family. Honestly if you were to disappear now, you doubted any of them would be able to give a proper description of you.

Had it not been for the law, you would've left them immediately.

Oh well. You sighed to yourself, but instinctively–an instinct you'd purposefully drilled yourself to have–glanced at the closest mirror-like surface to check your appearance. Still unrecognizable. Good.

As you passed from Fashion District to Diamond District and spotted a city surveillance camera, it was by self-control alone that your expression didn't change into a frown. Surveillance cameras and photographic cameras were different things, sure, but the sight of the former still reminded you of the latter, and the latter in turn reminded you of Tim.

Annoyingly, while you had succeeded in keeping Dick in Bludhaven away from you, Tim suddenly took it into his head to replace him approaching you. Even Jason had remarked on it, saying how he wasn't expecting Tim to actually embody the 'Replacement' nickname.

Something niggled at the back of your mind at that. You were unsure when exactly Jason came back to life and to the manor, but you did recall him having already called Tim so from the start. What was it Tim replaced Jason as? Bruce's next chosen child? But somehow it didn't really fit.

Ugh, whatever. Just another thing for you to deal with, after Red Hood's goons keeping an eye on you when you were attending Park Row High and Tim talking at you like he used to do back during his pre-pack days. Your only silver lining was that the Red Hood's goons seemed to think you were an alpha pup inclined to mess around instead of a ~temptingly unclaimed~ beta. Oh, and because Tim kept trying to talk at you (at, mind, not with) on the stairs or in the corridor, so far you'd been able to ditch him pretty easily.

You wished two years could pass already. At this rate, you might succumb to the temptation to do something risky...

A/N: (me beginning this chapter) Hmm I'm not sure how to start... (my fingers typed the first sentence) WOAH CALM DOWN THERE DAMIAN, PLS DON'T POSSESS MY BODY 😭

Taglist: @randomlyappearingartist @bellethesleepypotato @nirvanaxx1942 @tenswife @galaxypurplerose @shycreatorreview @cupid73 @time-shardz @mikusamsan @simpingpandas @kore-of-the-underworld @elmichi0 @mirabilis-polaris @farsketch @altumsomnum @hai-there-how-are-you @vanessa-boo @ashjade19 @yandere-enthusiast @a-lurking-fae @hyperfixatedcatlover @leeiasure @luckynemi @lowkeyjarrr @lunoorbonoor @deathbynarcisstick @tacendxx @staarflowerr @anonlikesfics @magical-panda2 @whognuthis @arwenyukiamoto @hon3ydewcaram3l @lilyalone @jazzyspaceghost @teabutnerdy @bunbunbread @darktrashpoetry @conqcakes @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @unrelatedlily @ciatin @ratchetprime211 @mybones537 @anonasatoruu @vikkus-main @shqyou @sitepathos @ee-1ovelifedownthedrain @totallynotacat13 @ratterpatter @hayourdadgon

[screamingforests]

Thinking omegaverse thoughts and scenting

Alpha!141 x Beta!Reader, this ended up being kinda Price centric

Uh no tags or warnings, this is mostly fluff

~

As a beta, you didn't suffer from heats or ruts and you didn't have a very strong scent. You also didn't have strong instincts, there was no drive to follow your biology. You were just you.

Then, you joined the 141.

You felt a higher need to protect these people, these men who were no doubt stronger than you physically. It helped to push you to better yourself, to work even harder.

Price was the first to notice it. Why wouldn't he? He saw the way you tried so hard to keep up with them. He smelled the way your subtle scent flared, underlining with a hint of spice, as you frustrated yourself.

So he started researching. Typically, betas were the soothers, but you could tend to be a little hot-headed. Not that any of the 141 minded. And then Price came across scenting. Sure, it was typically for mated couples, but it could be used to build a platonical bond, too.

So Price pulled you aside one day. Gently offered the option for you and saw the way you hesitated before accepting. The captain smiled gently and pulled you into the 141's private common room.

Price got you all situated on his lap, your back to his chest. He started with the small glands on your wrists, rubbing his own wrists against you. His observant eyes saw the way the stress started to leave your shoulders.

Working so slowly, the alpha started on the glands on your neck. You just melted against him.

Betas couldn't purr, but you hummed so pleased that it was close enough. Price chuffed softly in response, his alpha instincts starting to calm down at taking care of a member of his pack.

Hours pass, Price still gently scenting you, chuffing softly. You were practically asleep by this point.

Gaz walks in on you two first, smiling at the sight. He couldn't stop the happy tang his scent took on, the smell of petrichor flooding the room.

When you started to stir, realizing someone else was here, Gaz was quick to rush over and join in on Price's ministrations. It delved into Price just scenting you both. The scent of ozone, your scent, mixed with the petrichor of Gaz's scent, made Price's head swim.

Eventually, Price props you up, all nice and pliable, so sleepy, against Gaz. With your very faint instincts drawn to the surface, you begin to scent Gaz, and he returns the favor.

Finally, Ghost and Soap enter the room. They had just finished their own scenting session, that they fooled no one with, and they joined in on the pile. Soap goes on the other side of you, and Ghost plops down by the captain. The masked man gently rubs their wrists together, a greeting Ghost often did.

"Trying to make a move on 'em, Captain?"

"...Just trying to help the pack, Simon."

"Sure, John."

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (11)

Remember when I said chapter 11 will be out next weekend, one month ago ? I am a liar, but you guys have to forgive me.

Warning: cursing (?)

Tags: Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Pack! X fem!Reader ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; smut eventually ; fem!Reader ; afab!Reader

10 <- 11 ->12

Taglist

Masterlist

The routine settled over the pack. Bakugo’s gaze was still locked on Todoroki, a quiet blaze simmering behind his crimson eyes. His nostrils flared as he exhaled sharply through his nose, muttering a curse under his breath. Then he turned on his heel and stomped toward the kitchen while the floor creaked under the weight of his steps. Only then did Izuku realize he’d been holding his breath. He hadn’t known what to expect, an explosion, maybe. A barked insult. A demand, raw and unfiltered, tearing through the tension like Bakugo always did. His blonde mate had come dangerously close to snapping more than once in the past few days. Izuku had seen the storm brewing behind his eyes, but he understood. Bakugo wasn’t just angry. He missed him. They all did.

It had been less than a month since the incident, but it felt like an eternity since Todoroki had really looked any of them in the eyes. Since their fingers found each other in the quiet, without needing words. Sometimes they didn’t speak at all. Just sat like that, fingers laced, listening to the distant sounds of life moving around them. And every time Todoroki’s thumb rubbed small, absent circles into Izuku’s palm, it made something bloom behind his ribs. Gentle, deep and steady. He missed that. He missed the way Todoroki’s smile started small, barely a twitch of the lips, and then slowly bloomed. He missed his mate’s scent too. Even that had changed.

It used to be crisp, like the first bite of winter wind. Sweet golden honey layered over frostbitten berries. Now, it clung to the corners of the room in an unfamiliar way. Weakened. Clouded and Muddied. The sweetness had gone stale, eaten away by something bitter and wrong.

Despite being lost in his reminiscence and thoughts, Izuku caught movement from the corner of his eye. Kirishima was hovering near Todoroki. He stood there for a moment, then, gently, he stepped forward and hesitantly, he reached out, offering a gentle pat to Todoroki’s shoulder, with an expression armed with an encouraging smile. It wasn’t much. The touch was clumsy, uncertain and somewhat awkward. But it was kind, it was sweet, simple, and Izuku felt his chest warmed at the sight of it.

Though, Todoroki didn’t react, didn’t lean in the touch. The hand on his shoulder might as well have belonged to a ghost. Kirishima’s hopeful smile faltered, his brows pinched slightly dejected by the quiet rejection as he withdrew his hand. Not with anger or frustration, just defeat. He lingered a second longer in the room, then pulled his hand back and walked away, retreating quietly to his room.

Almost an hour later, Izuku was still staring blankly at the corner of the coffee table when Bakugo’s voice cut through the apartment.

“Dinner’s on the damn table!” Bakugo yelled from the kitchen.

Izuku moved without thinking to the dinner table, guided by habit more than appetite. He slipped into his usual seat at the table, and a moment later, Kirishima walked in, dragging his feet and sat without a word. But no sign of Todoroki coming.

Bakugo waited exactly thirty seconds before gritting out, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Sandals thudded against the hallway floor as he left the dinner table. A few seconds passed. Then the sound of footsteps again, two sets. Bakugo returned with Todoroki in tow, gripping his wrist in a firm hold. He dragged him to the table and sat him down in a chair, and shoved the waiting plate in front of him with a hard clatter.

“Eat,” he snapped. His gaze said the rest: Don’t you dare fucking leave.

Dinner didn’t get any better after this small « commotion ». It was stir-fried beef and vegetables over rice. Nothing fancy. The kind of meal Bakugo threw together on autopilot. It smelled good and tasted even better, savory, filling, beef and vegetables coated with a delicious garlic soy sauce, but the tension hanging over the table turned every bite into a lump down Izuku’s throat, even more when he noticed that Todoroki only picked at his plate.

Eventually, and thankfully, a part of him thought, plates ended up emptied. Except for Todoroki’s, which still looked mostly untouched. Bakugo loudly put down his chopsticks, and stood suddenly, scraping his chair back with a screech. He picked up his plate and everyone’s but Todoroki, and put them in the kitchen sink.

« I’ll do the dish kacchan. » Izuku said as he got up of his chair but he was stopped in his tracks.

« Sit your ass down Deku. » Bakugo responded without looking back.

Quickly the sound of water and clattering plates filled the silence around them, no one at the table moved. Todoroki was looking blankly at the wall, still distant and cold while his food was also turning cold. Izuku didn’t dare move after Bakugo told him to sit down, and Kirishima was just sitting there, arm crossed, lost in his thoughts. The moment was broken when after a couple of minutes, Bakugo spoke up again.

“I’m done. We’re going out. »

Izuku blinked. “Wait—what? Out? Where? Right now?”

“You heard me,” Bakugo replied. “Get your gym stuff. You too, shitty hair.”

Kirishima hesitated. “I don’t really feel like going out, man.”

“I wasn’t asking.” Bakugo’s voice didn’t rise, but it hardened. “Grab your bag. We’re going.”

Izuku stood slowly, brow furrowed. “Are we training? Or—”

“Stop asking questions, Deku. Just go get your stuff »

Bakugo turned back toward the table, eyes locking on Todoroki.

“What about you?”

His tone shifted. Still hard, but undercut with something else. Not quite hope, but expectation. A challenge he didn’t expect to be met. Daring Todoroki to give a different answer than the one they all expected him to give. But his icy hot mate didn’t even lift his head as he replied.

“You guys go ahead,” he murmured. “I’m too tired.”

A pause followed. Bakugo stared for a beat, his jaw clenched tight, then he scoffed and turned away, before walking out of the dinner room.

Izuku crouched beside Todoroki, speaking softly. “Eat a little more, okay?” he said, brushing a kiss to his cheek. “And try to rest. I’ll check on you when we get back.”

Todoroki only offered the smallest nod as a response, then Izuku rosed to his feet and went in his bed room . His gym bag was already packed and waiting by the door.m so he just slung it over his shoulder and returned to the front door, where the others were getting ready.

Gymn bags by their sides, Bakugo shoved his shoes on while Kirishima, by his side moved slower with his head down and tugged his hoodie over his hair before crouching to tie his laces. Izuku followed their lead and put his own shoes own.

The three stepped out into the cool hallway, and the door clicked shut behind them.

A sharp chill clung to the night air as the pack, minus one, headed to the car. Bakugo climbed into the driver’s seat without a word, slamming the door hard enough to make the whole frame rattle. Izuku barely had his seatbelt on before the car lurched forward, tires squealing slightly against the pavement.

Katsuki’s grip on the wheel was white-knuckled, his jaw clenched tight as he glared straight ahead. Every time they hit a red light, his fingers tapped out a sharp, impatient rhythm, punctuated by low curses muttered under his breath. The tension radiating off of him was suffocating.

Kirishima sat silently in the backseat, hunched toward the window, his reflection ghosting in the glass. The weight of the past few days still pressed heavily on him. Normally, he’d be the first to crack a joke or throw on a playlist, something loud and chaotic like Raise Your Flag by MAN WITH A MISSION, already queued up to blast through the speakers. He’d sing along loudly, grin and say something stupid like “You have to feel the music in your gut, man!”, and their blonde mate would told him to fuck off with his own matching grin. But tonight, he said nothing.

Izuku sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He wasn’t sure what Bakugo had planned, but right now, anything was better than whatever they were doing these days.

.

.

.

The gym was dimly lit when they arrived. The stale stench of sweat clung to the concrete walls, mixing with the metallic tang of oxidized iron and chalk dust. The air was thick with a heaviness that settled deep in the lungs. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, their inconsistent glow casting jagged shadows along the floor and across the rows of reinforced training equipment designed specifically for heroes. Multi-ton treadmills, weighted dummies, resistance fields, climbing towers, everything here catered to quirks, to extremes, to bodies like theirs. In the back stood the fighting ring, scuffed and battered from years of use. Another perk of the job. Izuku knew this gym like the back of his hand. It belonged to the agency him and Bakugo’s worked at, a shared space for all its hero’s with unlimited access. He had trained here, bled here, pushed himself to the brink here but tonight, it felt different. More charged.

Bakugo didn’t speak. He just made a beeline for the locker room, his boots echoing off the concrete. Kirishima and Izuku still followed him without a word. When they returned, changed and dressed down in gym clothes, Bakugo was already in the ring. The ring’s padding creaked beneath his boots as he rolled his shoulders and adjusted his gloves.

The second Kirishima stepped within range, a pair of gloves flew at his chest.

“Put ’em on,” Bakugo rasped.

Kirishima caught them mid-air with a surprised blink. “Don’t we need to warm up, or—?”

“I’m warm enough. Get in the ring.”

Kirishima hesitated only a moment before nodding, stepping between the ropes with a quiet sigh. Izuku hung back, settling near the edge of the ring, his arms crossed. Kirishima squared up in front of Bakugo, falling into a fighting stance with all the enthusiasm of a man going through the motions. His shoulders sagged slightly, his feet were planted on the mat. Bakugo, however, looked like he was seconds away from lunging.

“Ready, shitty hair?”

“Yeah,” Kirishima answered, voice dull. “I’m good.”

But "good" didn’t land the first punch.

Bakugo did. He shot forward like a missile, closing the distance in a single heartbeat. His fist collided with Kirishima’s guard, and the impact echoed through the room like a gunshot. Kirishima stumbled, boots dragging along the mat, barely absorbing the hit before crashing into the ropes.

“Slow,” Bakugo spat, already moving again.

Kirishima retaliated on reflex, swinging a solid right hook, but Bakugo dipped under it, ducking in close until their chests nearly touched. Then, with a grunt, he shoved Kirishima hard, sending him staggering backwards again.

From the edge of the ring, Izuku watched the scene unfolding in front of him. There was nothing playful about this spar. Bakugo was provoking Kirishima, prodding at some bruise beneath the surface, poking the red bear.

“You think holding back makes you a better person?” Bakugo’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “You think it makes up for anything?”

Kirishima’s eyes flashed, something sparking behind the tired haze.

Bakugo sneered. “Pathetic.”

Izuku saw it then, the flicker in Kirishima’s pupils, the way they sharpened, darkened. He was tracking Bakugo’s every move with predatory precision. And Bakugo knew it. He was feeding off it. Smiling, not just with amusement, but with anticipation.

“Come on,” Bakugo growled. “You hit that doctor harder than you’re hitting me. What, are you scared now, Eijirou?”

That did it.

Kirishima lunged, his entire body surging forward. The ring trembled under their combined weight as they collided. His fists came down in a storm, slamming into Bakugo’s guard over and over with raw, unchecked force. The sound was sickening, flesh on flesh, gloves on ribs, elbows scraping against sleeves. But Bakugo didn’t back down. He grinned, wild and unhinged, accepting each hit like a dare. Kirishima’s next punch missed, and Bakugo seized the opening, ducking low, elbowing him in the ribs, then gripping the back of his neck and yanking him into a brutal knee to the gut. The red hair choked, spit flying his lips, but he didn’t go down. He stumbled, bared his teeth, and charged into Bakugo, lifting him clear off the ground before slamming him into the mat. The sound was an echoing thud, and Izuku flinched involuntarily. They grappled, limbs tangled, sweat pouring down their skin. Their bodies moved in instinct and rage and something dangerously close to desperation. Neither wanted to stop. Neither could.

Izuku’s breath caught in his throat. There was something raw in it, something primal, like watching two storms collide. Each hit carried more than muscle. Every punch was part of a silent conversation. Bakugo’s lips were pulled into that terrifying, twisted and hot smile. Kirishima’s hands trembled, not from fatigue, but from the violence he was no longer holding back. And Izuku, well Izuku could feel it in his bones. The weight of it. The heat. The air was thick with sweat and pheromones, a heady, electric blend of rage and desperation and something primal. Bakugo's spice, sharp and biting. Kirishima's musk, warm and unrelenting. It clung to Izuku’s skin, mixed with the metallic tang of the gym until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. It hit him like a punch to the gut too. Dizzying. Almost sweet. Almost too much. His mouth went dry. His skin prickled.
God, it was intoxicating.

In their fight, once again,Bakugo gained the upper hand. He flipped them, slamming Kirishima onto his back and pinning him with a forearm across his collarbone. He winced, gasping, sweat glistening on his flushed face while Bakugo hovered over him, panting, chest to chest heaving, legs tangled together. His voice was low, and rough.

“There you are,” he rasped. His eyes burned, not with anger, but something sharper. Hungrier.

Kirishima sucked in a shaky breath, wide red eyes matching the blonde. “Fuck,” he breathed, the word cracking on his tongue.

Bakugo didn’t move immediately. He just looked down at him, face and knuckles bruised, his sharp teeth threatening to break into his skin. His body pressed even harder on his, almost crushing him with his weight. In response, Kirishima shoved him off with a growl, already rising to his feet, still not satisfied and craving more.

Izuku swallowed hard, his pulse drumming in his ears. He hadn’t moved the whole time. It wasn’t just a fight. It was hunger. It was yearning.

And god help him, it was hot.

So, it took me way longer to work through this chapter than I expected. I don’t know why; this was such a pain in the ass 😭

I feel like it’s been 10 chapters of everyone feeling bad for Todoroki, and I need to move on. Thankfully, it shouldn’t be long before I’m done with it. There are probably only two more sick Todoroki moments left, and very soon Bakugo will have his own POV chapter. I’m not really sure if I can call it a POV chapter, though.

I hope you guys enjoy it! I read a fic that did dialogue differently than I usually do, and I decided to try mimicking their style. Is it better than before, or not? I think I like it better this way. I also really tried to give you all a sense of what pack life was like before the reader, so I know it’s getting long, and maybe you guys are getting impatient to see the reader again. But trust the process! I feel like I need to make sure the pack feels like they have a real relationship on their own before introducing the reader to them.

Unrelated, but let me know what you all think about the characterizations. I don’t want them to feel too OOC, but I also want to try new things with them.

As always, criticisms are welcomed

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

10 <-11 -> 12

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