#Omega Reader

[invincibledc]

Omega! Male reader who is just a baker in Gotham. He has daily break ins which causes three known vigilantes to check up on the poor omega daily. Nightwing, red hood, and Red Robin. These three just straight up show in their civilian clothes and persona, trying to get to know you. But they show up on different days, the poor alphas don’t even know their other brother is showing up to met the sweet omega. Damian is getting annoyed and tired hearing dick talk about the omega that’s a baker down the city’s street. So Damian goes, and he’s hook when you talk to him about art and your adorable dog that you showed a picture of as he eats the delicious sweet treats. you are worthy to date any of his brothers.

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader

Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!

When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.

As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.

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Masterlist Ko-Fi☕️

Chapter 19: New Boundaries

The morning sun streaming through the guesthouse windows found eight bodies sprawled across your bed in various states of peaceful exhaustion. What had started as a reconciliation cuddle pile had evolved into an impromptu sleepover, with limbs tangled together in a way that defied physics and personal space boundaries.

You woke slowly, consciousness returning gradually as you registered the warm weight of Yunho's arm across your waist, the solid presence of Seonghwa's chest against your back, and what you were fairly certain was Wooyoung's foot somehow pressed against your shoulder.

"Morning, Tulip," came Hongjoong's soft voice from somewhere near your feet, where he'd apparently claimed a small corner of the bed.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself looking directly into Mingi's face, his dark eyes already alert and watching you with that same protective intensity from the night before. His arm was wrapped securely around your middle, as if even in sleep he'd been afraid you might disappear.

"How did you sleep?" he asked quietly, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Better than I have in weeks," you admitted, and it was true. Despite the emotional chaos of the previous evening, sleeping surrounded by your pack felt like the most natural thing in the world.

A gentle stirring around you indicated the others were beginning to wake up as well. San made a soft grumbling sound as he shifted against Jongho's shoulder, while Yeosang carefully extracted himself from what appeared to be a pretzel-like position with Wooyoung.

"My arm is completely numb," Wooyoung announced cheerfully, sitting up and shaking out his left arm with exaggerated movements. "But it was totally worth it for the pack bonding experience."

"You volunteered to sleep at the foot of the bed," Yunho pointed out with amusement, stretching carefully so as not to disturb you.

"I was being chivalrous," Wooyoung defended. "Making sure everyone had room. Very selfless of me."

"Very something," Yeosang muttered, though his tone was fond.

As everyone slowly untangled themselves and the bed began to return to normal proportions, you noticed something different about how your body felt. The heat symptoms that had been building steadily for days—the restless energy, the heightened sensitivity, the way your omega had been responding to your alphas' presence—all of it felt muted, manageable.

You sat up slowly, taking inventory. The urgency was still there, but it felt... controlled somehow.

"Is everything alright?" Seonghwa asked, immediately noticing your contemplative expression with that uncanny ability he had to read your moods.

"I feel... different," you said slowly, trying to identify what had changed. "Better."

Before anyone could respond, there was a knock at the guesthouse door. Hongjoong frowned, checking his phone.

"That's probably Dr. Kim," he said, looking slightly sheepish. "I... may have called her early this morning. After everything that happened last night, with your heat symptoms and the stress..."

"You called our doctor?" you asked, though you weren't upset—more curious than anything.

"I was worried," Hongjoong admitted. "About how the emotional trauma might affect your cycle, about whether we needed to do something to help you through it safely."

You frowned slightly, ready to make a comment about how this was exactly what had happened yesterday when everything went crazy—decisions being made for you without your input. But before the words could form, you felt a soft kiss pressed to your neck.

Yunho’s lips lingered there for a moment before he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “He’s trying,” Yunho said quietly, his voice gentle but carrying the weight of understanding. “He’s still head alpha, baby steps.”

The tender gesture and his words made you pause, the fight draining out of you as quickly as it had risen. You looked at Hongjoong’s worried face, saw the genuine concern there rather than the controlling energy from the night before. 

Yunho was right-Hongjoong was trying to find the balance between protecting you and respecting your autonomy. And if you were going to be part of this pack, you had to accept that sometimes the head alpha would make decisions he felt were necessary for everyone's wellbeing, including yours.

You let out a soft breath, your shoulders relaxing. “Okay,” you said simply, and watched relief flood Hongjoong’s features.

Dr. Kim's voice called from outside. "It's Dr. Kim. May I come in?"

"Please," you called back, and the door opened to admit a woman in her fifties with kind eyes and a professional demeanor that immediately put you at ease.

"Good morning," she said, taking in the scene of eight alphas and one omega in various states of post-cuddle-pile dishevelment with practiced calm. "I brought a few things that might help stabilize your cycle while you all work through these new mate bonds."

She set her medical bag on the small table and pulled out what looked like a small patch, similar to your scent blockers.

"It's a hormone regulator," she explained, seeing your curious expression. "Designed specifically for newly mated omegas who are dealing with cycle disruptions due to stress or multiple alpha bonds. It won't stop your heat entirely, but it will slow it down and make it more manageable until your body adjusts to the pack dynamics."

"Is that what I'm feeling?" you asked. "The difference from yesterday?"

Dr. Kim looked confused for a moment, then understanding dawned on her face. "Ah. You're probably responding to their combined scents even through your blocker. Eight mated alphas in close proximity can have a naturally stabilizing effect on an omega's cycle. Your body is recognizing the pack bond and adjusting accordingly."

"So the cuddle pile actually helped?" Wooyoung asked with delight.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Dr. Kim said with a small smile. "Extended contact with bonded alphas can help regulate omega hormones. Though I'd still recommend the patch for additional stability while you all learn to navigate these new dynamics."

She turned to you. "It's completely optional, and it's temporary—maybe a few weeks while you establish better pack communication and trust. Think of it as training wheels for your omega biology."

You looked around at the faces of your mates, all clearly concerned for your wellbeing and comfort. "What do you think?" you asked them.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," Hongjoong said immediately. "It's your choice entirely."

"It might give us time to figure things out without the pressure of a full heat cycle," Seonghwa added thoughtfully.

"I think I'd like that," you decided. "Time to build trust and work on our relationships without biology overwhelming everything."

Dr. Kim nodded approvingly and handed you the patch. "Apply it like your scent blocker. It should help keep things stable for the next few weeks. And don't hesitate to call if you have any concerns or side effects."

"So it's our fault," Hongjoong said quietly, his voice heavy with self-recrimination.

"It's nobody's fault," you said firmly, turning to face him. "It's just biology responding to circumstances. And honestly? It might be a good thing. It gives us time to figure things out properly instead of being driven by heat hormones."

Seonghwa nodded thoughtfully. "A chance to establish better dynamics before dealing with that level of biological intensity."

"Exactly," you agreed. "We can build trust and work through our issues without the added pressure of heat cycles and rut responses."

Wooyoung, who had been unusually quiet during this exchange, suddenly perked up. "Does this mean we get to do normal couple things? Like dates? I've been planning dates!"

"You've been planning dates?" San asked with amusement.

"SO many dates," Wooyoung confirmed enthusiastically. "I have a whole list. Museum visits, restaurant tours, that new amusement park... I was just waiting for the right time to suggest them."

"We should probably start with something simpler," you said with a laugh, charmed by his enthusiasm. "Like figuring out how to live together without anyone threatening to leave or calling anyone crazy."

The reminder of the previous night's fight brought a more serious mood back to the room.

"Speaking of which," Hongjoong said, his leader voice reasserting itself, "we need to talk about practical things. Your work situation, living arrangements, how we handle the pack dynamics going forward."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you knew would be a complex conversation. "I've been thinking about that. I don't want to give up working entirely, but I understand there are safety concerns and... complications."

"What are you thinking?" Seonghwa asked gently.

"Maybe a compromise," you said, looking around at all of them. "I could transition to a consulting role—helping with schedule coordination and management for ATEEZ specifically, but not being on-site for everything. I could work from home most of the time, join you for important events, but not be constantly in situations where I'm vulnerable to outside alphas."

Hongjoong's expression showed he was carefully considering your proposal. "That could work. You'd still be using your skills and maintaining your independence, but with more control over your environment."

"And," you added pointedly, "it would be my choice. My decision about how much and when to work."

"Of course," Hongjoong said immediately. "Completely your choice."

The quick agreement and the respectful tone made you relax slightly. Maybe the events of last night had actually created an opportunity for better communication.

"What about living arrangements?" Jongho asked practically. "Are you comfortable staying in the guesthouse long-term?"

You hesitated, looking around at the faces of your pack. The question touched on something you'd been thinking about but hadn't been sure how to bring up.

"Actually," you said slowly, "I've been wondering... maybe after we've had some time to adjust to everything, to make sure we can all live together without major conflicts..." You took a breath, gathering courage. "Maybe I could move into the main house? With all of you?"

Eight pairs of eyes fixed on you with varying degrees of surprise and hope.

"And then," you continued, the words coming faster now, "I could convert the bedroom in the guesthouse into a proper office space. I already have the office in the main house, but having a separate workspace where I could take calls and focus without worrying about disturbing anyone might be useful."

"You want to live with us?" Wooyoung asked, his voice pitched higher with excitement. "In the main house? Like, actually live live with us?"

"Only if you want to," Mingi added quickly, clearly still worried about overstepping boundaries. "We don't want to pressure you into anything."

You looked around at the seven faces surrounding you, each showing genuine concern for your comfort and autonomy mixed with barely contained hope. It was such a stark contrast to the controlling energy from the night before.

"I'd like that," you said softly. "Eventually. Having my own space when I need it, but being close to all of you most of the time."

"We could design it together," Wooyoung said excitedly. "Make it perfect for you. Good lighting, comfortable furniture, maybe a little mini-fridge for snacks..."

"A mini-fridge?" you repeated with amusement.

"Very important," Wooyoung said seriously. "Can't have our omega getting hungry while she's working. That's just poor pack management."

"Our omega," Yeosang repeated thoughtfully. "We should probably talk about that too. What it means, how we navigate the dynamics."

"What do you mean?" you asked, though you suspected you knew where this was heading.

"Eight alphas, one omega," Yeosang explained in his analytical way. "Traditional pack structures don't really account for this situation. We need to figure out our own rules."

"Like what?" San asked.

"Like how we handle jealousy," Yeosang said bluntly. "Because it's going to happen. When one of us is spending individual time with Y/n, when she chooses to confide in one person over another, when the mate bonds feel stronger with some than others at different times."

The honesty of his statement created a moment of uncomfortable silence as everyone considered the implications.

"I don't want any of you to feel like you have to compete for my attention," you said softly. "Or like there's some hierarchy of who I love more."

"But there might be," Jongho pointed out with surprising wisdom for the youngest. "Different relationships, different dynamics. That's normal, isn't it?"

"It is," Seonghwa agreed. "The important thing is that everyone feels valued and secure in their bond with you, even if those bonds are different from each other."

"So maybe," Hongjoong said slowly, "we need to be more intentional about individual time. Making sure everyone gets one-on-one moments with Y/n, not just group activities."

"I'd like that," you said immediately. "I want to know each of you better individually, not just as part of the pack."

"See?" Wooyoung said triumphantly. "This is why I had date plans! I was thinking ahead!"

"Your date plans are probably all elaborate productions," Yunho said with fond exasperation. "Some of us might prefer quiet time."

"Hey!" Wooyoung protested. "I have quiet date ideas too! Very romantic, very low-key... well, relatively low-key..."

"Define 'relatively,'" Yeosang said suspiciously.

"Okay, so maybe I had thoughts about hiring a string quartet for a picnic, but that's totally reasonable romantic gesture!"

The laughter that followed Wooyoung's indignant defense helped lighten the mood considerably. This was good—they were talking through practical issues while maintaining the emotional connection that made them feel like a family.

"I have an idea," you said once the laughter died down. "What if we start small? One-on-one time doesn't have to be formal dates. It could be cooking together, or watching a movie, or just talking. Low pressure, but intentional."

"I love that," Seonghwa said immediately. "It gives us all a chance to develop our individual relationships without the pressure of grand gestures."

"Though grand gestures are still allowed," Wooyoung added hopefully. "For those of us who might be naturally inclined toward grand gestures."

"Grand gestures are allowed," you confirmed with a smile. "As long as they're thoughtful and not overwhelming."

"Speaking of overwhelming," Mingi said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "what do we do about the territorial instincts? Because they're not going away just because we're having a reasonable conversation about them."

It was a fair point. The rational discussion was helpful, but it didn't change the fundamental alpha nature that had caused problems the night before.

"Maybe we acknowledge when it's happening," San suggested. "Instead of pretending the instincts don't exist, we can recognize them and choose how to respond."

"Like when I wanted to break down your door last night," Mingi continued, looking directly at you. "My alpha was convinced you were in danger, that you needed immediate rescue. Logically, I knew you were safe with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, but instinctively..."

"You needed to protect your mate," you finished understanding. "That's not necessarily a bad thing, as long as it doesn't override my autonomy."

"Exactly," Hongjoong said, and you could see him working through the concept. "The protective instincts aren't the problem. It's when they turn into controlling behavior."

"So maybe," Yeosang suggested, "when someone's alpha is getting possessive or territorial, they can communicate that to the pack. 'My alpha is struggling with this situation' instead of just acting on the instincts."

"And then the pack can help," Yunho added. "Either by adjusting the situation or by helping that alpha work through the feelings."

You found yourself nodding as you listened to them problem-solve together. This felt so different from the previous night's chaos—collaborative instead of combative, thoughtful instead of reactive.

"I have a confession," you said, looking around at all of them. "My omega has instincts too. Protective ones, nurturing ones, possessive ones. Last night when I went to Mingi during his rut, that wasn't entirely rational decision-making either."

"You were responding to your mate's distress," Seonghwa said with understanding. "That's natural."

"But it was also dangerous," you continued. "If we're going to acknowledge your alpha instincts, we should acknowledge mine too. Sometimes I might need the pack to help me make safer choices."

"As long as it's help and not control," Hongjoong said carefully.

"As long as it's help and not control," you agreed, meeting his eyes directly.

The morning conversation was interrupted by a loud growling sound that seemed to echo through the entire room. Eight pairs of eyes turned toward Jongho, who looked down at his stomach with betrayal.

"Was that you?" Wooyoung asked in amazement. "That sounded like a small earthquake."

"I'm hungry," Jongho said defensively, his cheeks flushing slightly. "We've been talking for hours, and I didn't eat much last night because of all the drama."

Looking around, you realized that several of them looked tired and rumpled, and you were all still wearing yesterday's clothes. The emotional intensity of the previous night had overshadowed basic needs like food and hygiene.

"Okay," you said, shifting into practical mode. "New plan. Everyone goes home to shower and change clothes. Then we reconvene for a proper breakfast where we can continue this conversation like civilized people instead of an exhausted cuddle pile."

"I like the exhausted cuddle pile," Wooyoung protested, even as he began extracting himself from the bed.

"The exhausted cuddle pile will return," you assured him. "But first, food and basic human maintenance."

As everyone began the process of untangling themselves and preparing to head back to the main house, Hongjoong lingered beside your bed. The others gradually filtered out, some stopping to press gentle kisses to your cheek or squeeze your hand, until it was just the two of you.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?"

"For giving me another chance. For not giving up on us." His voice was soft, vulnerable in a way you rarely heard from their confident leader. "I know I have work to do, proving that I can be better."

"We all have work to do," you corrected gently. "This is new for everyone. We're going to make mistakes."

"I made big ones."

"Yes," you agreed honestly. "But you're here, trying to fix them. That matters."

Hongjoong reached out slowly, giving you time to pull away, before cupping your face gently in his hands. "I love you," he said simply. "Not your biology, not your omega nature, not what you can do for the pack. You. Your mind, your strength, your terrible sense of humor, everything that makes you who you are."

The words, delivered with such sincere conviction, made your chest tight with emotion. "I love you too," you whispered back. "All of you. Even when you're being impossible."

His answering smile was soft and relieved and full of hope for the future they were building together.

"Now go shower," you said, pushing gently at his chest. "You smell like eight alphas who slept in a pile."

"I smell like pack," Hongjoong corrected with a grin. "Like home."

"You smell like you need soap," you countered, but you were smiling as you said it.

As Hongjoong finally headed for the door, he paused at the threshold. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for staying."

After he left, you remained in bed for a few more minutes, processing everything that had happened in the past twelve hours. The emotional whiplash of the fight, the fear of losing everything, Wooyoung's intervention, the reconciliation, and now this morning's productive conversation about building a healthier dynamic.

Your hand drifted to your neck, where there were no claiming marks yet, but where you could imagine them someday. The mate bonds hummed contentedly in your chest, no longer strained by conflict and uncertainty.

Your heat cycle might be delayed, but maybe that was exactly what you all needed. Time to build something solid and healthy before biology demanded vulnerability and surrender.

Time to fall in love with each other, hopefully. 

With that thought warming your chest, you finally dragged yourself out of bed to start the day. There was a pack to feed, relationships to nurture, and a future to build.

And for the first time since the mate bonds had revealed themselves, you felt genuinely excited about all of it.

---

An hour later, you emerged from your own shower feeling refreshed and more human, dressed in comfortable clothes and ready to tackle the promised breakfast. The main house was buzzing with activity when you entered through the back door, the sounds of multiple conversations and what smelled like an impressive cooking operation already underway.

You found Seonghwa in the kitchen, as expected, but he wasn't alone. Yunho was stationed at the stove flipping what appeared to be an enormous batch of pancakes, while San worked on cutting fresh fruit with the focused precision of someone taking their task very seriously.

"Good morning," you said, accepting the cup of coffee that Seonghwa handed you before you'd even fully entered the kitchen. He knew you too well.

"Perfect timing," San said, looking up from his fruit arrangement with a bright smile. "We're just finishing up the feast."

"Feast might be an understatement," you observed, taking in the sheer volume of food covering every available surface. "Are you feeding a small army?"

"Eight hungry alphas and one omega who missed dinner last night due to emotional trauma," Yunho said matter-of-factly, sliding another perfectly golden pancake onto the growing stack. "So yes, basically an army."

"Where is everyone else?" you asked, settling onto one of the kitchen stools to stay out of the way while still being part of the organized chaos.

"Wooyoung is setting the table," Seonghwa replied, stirring something that smelled amazing in a large pot. "Jongho went for a quick workout because apparently emotional reconciliation makes him restless. Mingi is showering, and Hongjoong is taking calls with Manager Minwoo about rearranging today's schedule."

"And Yeosang?" you asked, suddenly realizing you hadn't seen him since the morning conversation.

"Reading room," San said without looking up from his fruit artistry. "He said something about needing to process everything quietly before facing group breakfast dynamics."

That made sense. Yeosang had always been the most introverted of the group, the one who needed solitude to work through complex emotions and situations. The morning's heavy conversation about pack dynamics and relationship structures had probably been a lot for him to absorb.

"I think I'll go check on him," you said, sliding off the stool.

"Good idea," Seonghwa said with approval. "He's been quieter than usual since everything happened. He could probably use some individual attention."

You made your way through the house to what the members had dubbed the 'reading room'—a cozy space with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, comfortable chairs, and excellent natural light. It had become Yeosang's unofficial retreat when he needed space to think.

You found him curled up in the large armchair by the window, a book open in his lap but his eyes focused on something far beyond the garden outside. He looked up when you entered, a small smile crossing his features.

"Hey," you said softly, settling into the chair across from him. "How are you doing with everything?"

Yeosang was quiet for a moment, closing his book and setting it aside before really looking at you. "It's a lot," he said finally, his voice carrying that thoughtful quality that was so distinctly him. "All of it. The mate bonds, the pack dynamics, what happened last night."

"Too much?" you asked gently.

"Not too much," he clarified quickly. "Just... complex. I keep thinking about what you said this morning, about how we'll all have different relationships with you, different dynamics."

You nodded, sensing there was more he wanted to say.

"I've been trying to figure out what mine is," he continued, his analytical mind clearly working through the problem. "Wooyoung is obvious—dramatic, playful, emotional. Mingi is protective and intense. Seonghwa is nurturing. But me..." He trailed off, looking uncertain.

"You're thoughtful," you said softly. "Observant. You see things others miss."

"But what does that mean for us?" he asked, and you could hear the vulnerability beneath his usual composed exterior. "What does that relationship look like?"

It was such a Yeosang question—wanting to understand, to analyze, to find his place in the complex web of relationships that was forming around you.

"I don't know yet," you admitted honestly. "But I'd like to find out. We haven't really had much time alone together, just us."

"Would you like to?" he asked, and there was something almost shy in the way he said it. "Have time alone together, I mean."

"I would love that," you replied immediately. "What would you want to do?"

Yeosang's face lit up slightly, as if he'd been hoping you'd ask. "Actually, I had an idea. But it might be... different. Not like what the others might plan."

"Different how?" you asked, curious.

"There's a bookstore I love," he said, his words coming more quickly now as his enthusiasm took over. "It's small, quiet, tucked away in this old building downtown. They have rare books, first editions, things you can't find anywhere else. And upstairs, they have this tiny café that serves the most amazing tea."

The idea of exploring a hidden bookstore with Yeosang, of seeing him in his element surrounded by books and quiet spaces, sent a warm flutter through your chest.

"That sounds perfect," you said sincerely. "When can we go?"

"Really?" Yeosang's eyes brightened considerably. "You don't think it sounds boring compared to whatever elaborate adventure Wooyoung is probably planning?"

"Yeosang," you said firmly, leaning forward in your chair, "spending quiet time with you, learning about something you're passionate about, exploring a place that's special to you—that sounds like exactly the kind of individual time we were talking about this morning."

The relief and happiness that crossed his features was almost painful in its intensity, as if he'd been genuinely worried that his idea of a perfect date would be inadequate compared to the others.

"We could go this afternoon," he suggested. "If you want. After breakfast and after everything settles down from this morning."

"I'd love that," you assured him. "But only if you promise to show me your favorite sections and tell me about the books you love."

"I can do that," Yeosang said, his smile soft and genuine. "I have a lot of books I'd love to share with you."

There was something in the way he said it that made you realize this wasn't just about books. This was Yeosang offering to share a piece of himself, to let you into his inner world in a way that felt significant and precious.

"Yeosang," you said gently, "can I ask you something?"

He nodded.

"How are you feeling about the pack bonds? About us? I know this morning was a lot of heavy conversation, and you've been quieter than usual."

Yeosang was silent for a long moment, his fingers absently tracing the spine of the book in his lap. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and thoughtful.

"I've been thinking about how different we all are," he said. "And how that might actually be good for you. For us as a pack."

"What do you mean?"

"Wooyoung brings joy and lightness when things get too serious. Mingi brings protection and strength when you need to feel safe. Seonghwa brings comfort and care when you need nurturing." He paused, looking directly at you. "I bring... quiet. Understanding. Someone to listen when you need to process things without judgment or solutions."

The self-awareness in his words, the way he'd clearly been thinking deeply about his role in your life, made your chest tight with affection.

"That's not a small thing," you said softly. "That's huge. Do you know how rare it is to find someone who can just... listen? Without trying to fix or change or improve?"

"Is it?" he asked, and you could hear the genuine uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeosang," you said, getting up from your chair and moving to kneel beside his, taking his hands in yours. "Last night, when everything was falling apart, when I was overwhelmed and hurt and angry, what I needed most was exactly what you offered. Someone who saw what was happening, who understood the complexity without trying to simplify it."

His eyes met yours, searching for sincerity and finding it.

"You told me that whatever was happening between us didn't need to be figured out immediately," you continued. "That it was okay to acknowledge it existed and let it develop naturally. That kind of wisdom, that patience—that's not something everyone has."

"You really think that's valuable?" he asked quietly.

"I think it's essential," you replied firmly. "I think you're essential."

The way his face softened at your words, the way his shoulders relaxed as if he'd been carrying tension he didn't even realize he had, made you want to wrap him in your arms and never let go.

"I love your mind," you continued, the words flowing freely now. "I love how you think through problems, how you see patterns and connections that others miss. I love that you read philosophy and poetry and come away with insights that make me see the world differently."

"I love how you listen," you added, your voice growing softer. "Really listen. Not just waiting for your turn to talk, but actually hearing what people are saying, understanding what they mean even when they can't articulate it properly."

Yeosang's hands tightened around yours, his eyes never leaving your face.

"And I love that you don't try to be someone you're not to fit some idea of what an alpha should be," you finished. "You're quiet and thoughtful and gentle, and that's perfect. That's exactly what I need."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then Yeosang leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours in a gesture so tender it made your breath catch.

"I was worried," he admitted quietly, "that being quieter, less dramatic than the others, might make me... forgettable."

"Never," you said firmly. "You could never be forgettable."

"I love you," he said suddenly, the words soft but clear. "I've been wanting to say it, but I wasn't sure... the others are so much more obvious about their feelings."

"I love you too," you replied immediately, lifting one hand to cup his cheek. "I love your quiet strength and your beautiful mind and the way you make me feel understood."

The kiss that followed was soft and sweet and full of promise. When you broke apart, Yeosang's eyes held a peace that hadn't been there when you'd first entered the room.

From the kitchen came the sound of Wooyoung calling that breakfast was ready, but for just a few more minutes, you were content to sit in the quiet reading room with Yeosang, talking about books and plans and the unique space he occupied in your heart.

"We should probably go join the others," Yeosang said eventually, though he didn't sound entirely eager to leave their peaceful bubble.

"Probably," you agreed, but you made no move to get up. "Five more minutes?"

"Five more minutes," he confirmed, settling back into his chair with a contented smile.

You climbed in his lap, needing to be close to him. 

Yeosang's arms came around you almost tentatively as you eased onto his lap, your knees bracketing his thighs. His eyes widened for just a moment—surprise, awe, a flicker of nerves—but all of it softened to something infinitely gentle as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

At first, the kiss was feather-light: a delicate brush, a question. You could feel him relax beneath you, his hands coming to rest at your hips, thumbs drawing soothing circles through your shirt. You lingered there; noses brushing, breath mingling, savoring the sweetness of feeling so safe in the silence you both cherished.

But need crept in the longer you kissed him. Your heat symptoms still present, just quieter.  With each pass of your mouth over his—a little less hesitant, a little more present—something inside you coiled and snapped taut. You felt his breath stutter as your hands moved, one slipping into his hair, the other stroking along the line of his jaw. Yeosang made a soft sound deep in his throat, and the vibration of it sent heat flaring through your body.

He welcomed your growing urgency, his own responses turning more earnest. His grip at your hips grew firmer, bringing you closer, molding your body to his. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, and a thrill ran through you at how much he wanted you.

You deepened the kiss—open, searching, greedy for more of him. Yeosang’s hands splayed wide, tracing up your back, holding you steady, pulling you closer until there was barely any space left between you. He kissed you back with increasing hunger: still gentle, still reverent, but with the sharp edge of longing you’d never quite seen from him before.

Your own restraint faltered; you nipped at his lower lip, swallowed the gasp he gave you, pressed closer so that his legs bracketed your hips. The need to feel more, to have more, overwhelmed the patience you’d started with.

You broke the kiss only for a breath, whispering his name with trembling lips, looking into his eyes to find them shimmering—dazed and wholly focused on you.

“Is this okay?” you asked, voice shaky but sure.

He nodded, his forehead tipping to rest against yours. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice rougher than you’d ever heard. “Whatever you want.”

You kissed him again, slow exploding into urgent, your hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer, anchoring yourself in the warmth and want of him. He shifted beneath you, welcoming you in, his hands mapping your back, your sides, craving every inch he could reach.

Time faded away—there was only Yeosang and your shared hunger, the soft noises of lips and breath, and the desperate way you both clung to each other as if the world outside your quiet room had vanished entirely.

And for the moment, it had.

Next>>

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[sevikaslatinawife]

Tsaheylu

Part 2

tsaheylu — the bond Alpha!Sevika x Omega!F!Reader

index | part 1

⛧ Warnings: slick sharing, dacryphilia, spitting/drooling, light degradation, light puppy!reader, female alpha anatomy (g!p/enlarged clit), knotting, nipple play, daddy kink, mention of blood play, pussy slap, slight overstimulation, cum inflation ⛧ Word Count: 2,914 words

You whine as she pulls her fingers free from your cunt and she sucks them clean before shifting up from your thighs and forward. You knew what she wanted, so you didn’t hesitate to pull her panties from your teeth, drop them somewhere beside you, open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

Sevika purrs as her metal fingers cup and squeeze the back of your neck. Her right hand is pressed on the mattress to keep herself hovering over you. She doesn’t shy away from your eyes as she parts her lips and spits your slick into your own tongue. You whine as she leans down to press her tongue against yours, shaking her head just to see your tongue drip saliva that smears down your chest.

“Can’t stop yourself, huh?” She slots her mouth against yours, tongue swirling to taste your slick that has coated both of your mouths. “You know what you’re meant to do, baby,” She grabs your chin with her right hand, mechanical hand slipping to the mattress to keep herself above you, tilting your head back to slow the trickle of saliva from your lolled tongue. “Swallow, my pathetic girl.”

You pull your tongue back into your mouth without another second wasted, swallowing the thick flavor of your own arousal and cum. Sevika thumbs your wet bottom lip, eyes dark as she watches you part your lips for her thumb to slip between the front of your teeth. She presses down on your incisors, and you let your lips part and jaw hang fully.

“ ‘lease,” You slur against the press of her thumb. The tip of your tongue pressing against the digit, almost enticing it to keep going and fill your mouth with something.

“Need somethin’?” She coos, using the grip on your mouth to tilt your face to the side so she can kiss the length of your neck.

Her nose brushes the warmth of it, inhaling the thickness of your pheromones. The honing smell they provided for alphas, for all alphas.

The thought made her growl low in her throat as she kissed the curve of your neck, feeling your already-racing pulse beneath the skin. The noise makes you shiver and you lick your lips when she lets go of your mouth. When her right hand cups the opposite side of your neck and you lean into the touch like a magnet.

“All fuckin’ mine,” She groans as she sucks a mark into the spot she noses. Her tongue and teeth working to make it dark, to make it ache and your thighs squeeze her hips at the feeling.

“Yours, ‘Vika, please,” You whine, wanting her to continue, to not stop. Your body felt feverish still, needing to come again and again. Or at least cum enough to clear your head for a few hours before the heat overwhelmed you again and your mind became as muddy as it felt right now.

“I know, puppy, I know,” She chuckles, hands sliding down your sides, pushing your hips down against the mattress as your thighs open enough for her to sit back on her haunches, your legs draped over her thighs. The nickname makes you whimper and for a shiver to run down your spine.

Your eyes meet hers as she blindly undoes her button and zipper, reaching into her own pants to pull out her growing erection. That’s when your eyes drop and you groan at the sight of her thumb teasing the wetness of her dribbling head.

“Nothin’ but my pretty toy, aren't you, puppy?” She laughs at your reaction to the nickname, shifting forward, groaning as she teases the wet head of her cock against your folds.

You whine and nod, raising your hips and offering yourself to her with ease. “Your toy, all yours.”

Sevika growls, her prosthetic whirring low as she digs the talons of her metal fingers into the supple flesh of your waist. She leans forward and slides into you with a satisfied moan, feeling the heat of your cunt almost scorch the flesh of her cock.

“Hm-mm,” Your hum was dripping with satisfaction, eyelashes fluttering as you bit your lip. The slight stretch of her cock, the brush of the soft swell of the base of it against your wetness – her knot still not fully shown.

“Nothin’ like you, huh, baby?” She stares like it's the first time. Drinks in the way her cock is being slickened with your arousal and cum when she pulls back out of you, only the tip of her dick inside of you. “Just made f’this dick.”

“Yes, jus’ f’you,” Your speech is already slurred as Sevika rocks her hips forward and you moan at the slide of her dick. Your hands come up to settle on her shoulders, to squeeze the tightening muscle as she slowly fucks in and of you.

“Go ahead,” She grunts at the way your thumbs brush her collarbones, how hot your skin is against her own.

Your fingers slide down her chest to undo the buttons of her vest, freeing her breasts as she discards the vest from her back in quick motions. It drops to the floor and your eyes immediately lock onto the softness of them, their sway as she thrusts into you. Everything makes you groan.

“Like what you see?” She pants, fingers wrapping around your hips to give you a hard thrust. You cry out and buck, hands finding purchase on her forearms, digging your fingers in metal and skin alike.

“S-So p-pretty,” You moan as she continues to thrust into you.

Sevika feels the heat of her face at your words and she growls at the reaction her body has to you. She shakes her head to clear it of the thought of your blood on her tongue, canines aching to sink into your neck to mark you properly.

To finally give in to her desire, her nature, to have you.

However, she couldn’t, not yet. You were still too out of it.

“Daddy…p-pretty,” You groan as your fingers slide up her forearms, nestled into the back of her elbows, still gripping her tightly.

The grip she has on your hips raises them slightly from the bed, angling her cock to press harder into you. For your back to curve softly, for your breasts to jolt with each thrust you’re given. It blankets you, begins to satiate the need that had been quietly building up inside of you since this torturous day began.

“Not as pretty as you, baby,” She groans as she thrusts, feeling the slickness of her cunt against the inside of her boxers. She’s not surprised if the patch was evident through her jeans and she doesn’t want to pull out of your cunt and discard the rest of her clothing. “Pretty tits, too, fuck,” She grunts through gritted teeth, pulling you all the way down on her dick, flush against her. It makes you squeak in surprise as the head of her cock settles roughly against your twitching cervix; your hands cup the back of her head when she bows over you and her mouth finds your chest.

You whine as she flattens her tongue against your hard nipple, teasing the sensitive skin of it. She hums against you, nose pressing into the softness of your breast while she sucks your nipple into her mouth. Your pussy clenches once around her cock and she grunts in turn, eyebrows knitted together in simmering need for you.

Her prosthetic was chattering, puffing out a long string of vapor as her claws dug into your hip harder. You hiss softly as her clawed thumb presses harder, scratches at your skin and makes you shiver. Your hands drop from the back of her head to press into the mattress, twist your fingers in the sheets and offer your chest to her mouth more, groaning eagerly.

Sevika’s tongue flattens against your breast, curling against your skin, practically cupping it with her tongue. She groans, drool sliding down your breast, down your side. Your pussy gives another eager clench around Sevika’s cock as the line of drool slides up, towards your shoulder blades due to the curve of your back off the bed by her hands.

“ ‘vika,” You breathe and she huffs against your skin. “Please, move, please, I —”

“Stupid little pussy is quivering around my dick,” She chuckles, leaving a burning kiss on your sternum. “Beg for it,” she grunts as she licks your neglected nipple, eyes locked with your own as she squeezes your sides again. “Beg daddy to fuck you like you need so badly.”

She’s doing it on purpose, of course she is, you knew this about her too well. Looking at you with those blown-out grays, her mouth on you and her hips giving your insides — no, your cervix — a slow, teasing grind. She knows you can’t articulate right now, much less while being impaled on her cock and her mouth toying with your sensitive breasts.

“Please,” is the choked reply you begin with as she nips at the hardened bud in her mouth, rolling it between her teeth. “God, please, ‘vika! Please, I-I need you to fuck me,” Your face burns at your own words, squeezing her hips with your thighs to add to your plea. “Daddy, please, it hurts.”

“Aw, it hurts?” She coos after pulling back from your nipple, kissing the swell of your breast and nosing the heat of your skin there. “Is my puppy’s cunt droolin’ for daddy’s cum?”

“Fill me, fuck, please,” You whimper, lower lip jutted and trembling as your hands come up to squeeze her biceps. Your pussy clenches around her dick and she grunts, leaning up to press a bruising kiss to your mouth.

Sevika pries your lips to part with her tongue and you eagerly accept, tongue meeting hers in turn. The kiss was aimless and sloppy, more need and desire than anything else, but it had you burning all the same. It had slicken you further around her dick, dribbling stray drops of slick down your pussy and ass.

“Let’s see —” Sevika nips at your bottom lip with a grunt, pulling her hips back and slamming back into you. Her cock throbbed inside of you, hot and hard as she stroked you deliberately slow. Dragging her hips back before slamming back into you without a care.

It made you groan softly and wrap your arms around her neck, to pull her closer as she sucks on a spot on your jaw. Every drag of her cock buried into your cunt has your walls fluttering eagerly and needily around her. It was driving her crazy, growling against your skin, baring her teeth as she huffs to try and calm herself.

But how could she?

The heat, the wetness, the smell of you beneath her was hindering her mind. Her alpha mindset was beginning to cloud her senses, taking over slowly. With each drag of her cock inside your pussy, she lost a little bit of power against the wolf threatening to spill.

Spill inside of you, knot you to her and sink her teeth into your mating mark and lick the blood that might spill from it.

“Faster,” you croak, wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her deeper inside of you and feeling her moan against your neck where she is kissing now. “Daddy, p—”

“Please,” She mocks, chuckling with her lips brushing your pulse. “Please deeper —” A single thrust that has you crying out. “Faster —” She pushes herself on her hands, gripping the bed sheets as she pistons her hips into you. It makes you choke on your own spit in surprise, hands dropping from around her to scramble on the sheets, to grip onto them until your knuckles are blanketed in white. “Then take it, you little slut,” Sevika growls, baring her teeth down at you, eyes raking the bounce of your breasts and body with each thrust she gives you.

Her hips drive into your own with purpose and you wouldn’t be surprised if the skin of your thighs would blossom with bruises or at the very least be sore. Your insides feel full and strained with each thrust, a shiver of pain running up your body as she grinds the slit of her cock right against your cervix, hard.

“Oh fuck,” You cry out as she never stops, doesn’t falter in the pounding she is giving your insides. Each deep, hard and fast. Your fingers felt numb from twisting in the sheets, throat dry from all the panting and moaning and back arched to meet her hips perfectly.

“Yeah, baby,” She grunts, circling her hips against you just to hear that soft little gasp get caught in your throat. “Scream f’me.” She pants as she chases her orgasm inside of you, thrusting hard and deranged, like she was nothing but a mere animal following her instincts.

And you were her little prey caught in her trap.

“Mm, let everyone —” She moans, lips twitching back into a snarl. “—know you belong to me.”

“Y-yours, yes, yours,” You babble brokenly, feeling your stomach tighten alongside your cunt. “Please, daddy, need…your knot.”

“Poor princess,” Sevika has it in her to laugh. Despite her cock throbbing and engulfed in the slick heat of your walls, she still had enough of her brain left to be cocky. “Need daddy, mm, t’fill this gorgeous—” She drops her right hand down to give your clit a sharp smack just to feel your thighs seize and hear you sob. “—tightening, little cunt?”

“Yes!” You sob as a second smack is delivered to your cunt, causing it to twitch around Sevika’s dick and make her growl. “Want it, want it, want —” You arch your back and moan as the next smack to your pussy makes it tighten, crying out as she rubs your clit harshly throughout your orgasm.

The pulsing of your cunt around her is sending pleasure up her back, as she chases her orgasm inside of you. She doesn’t stop rubbing your clit even when you’re whimpering, her hips still pounding into you like it’s her only purpose in life.

“Ah, daddy–!” You squeeze her hips with your thighs, trying to ease her hand on your sensitive clit but instead get your thigh shoved open. Her metal claws dig into your thigh and press it back into the mattress, smacking your clit and making you scream.

“Atta girl, fuckin’ scream,” She growls as she shoves your other thigh open, nails digging into sensitive skin and causing you to shiver.

Sevika is huffing, eyes glued to where her dick disappears inside of you, feeling and watching her knot swell. Her stomach tightens and she moans as she cums, as she shoves her knot past the muscle of your cunt and has it swell fully.

You moan and jolt as you’re stretched fully, as her cum is pumped steadily inside of your cunt. Thick, warm and heavy against your insides. It makes you let out a soft purr as your belly pouches at the sheer quantity of her seed that is still being filled into you.

The ache of being stretched is dulled due to your heat, but the short blossoming of pain when she shifts her hips has you mewling. Your hands come up to grip her shoulders as she grunts while trying to catch her breath.

“Fuck,” Sevika licks her lips and leans down to press a kiss to your mouth. “Love breedin’ this pussy,” She rolls her hips and smirks as you whimper at the tug to your rim. “So greedy for my cum and my knot.”

“Always,” You almost whine as she guides your thighs around her waist. She helps you up, as slow as she can to settle you on her lap. You do whine when you settle completely on her cock, back of your thighs against her covered and damp own.

“Shit, m’still coming,” She leans up to suck on your collarbone, pinch the skin between her teeth and bury her nose into your damp flesh.

You could feel it too. The way her cock twitched as more cum filled you, the way your belly pressed more firmly against her as more ringlets were stuffing your cunt. You ground your hips down on her and she hisses and digs her teeth into you a little harder.

“Ngh,” A pathetic sound leaks from your lips as she sinks her teeth into you more and when her hands are squeezing your supple hips to guide them on her. “Need more,” You whisper and feel her growl against you.

“Gotta let this —” She bucks into you with a hiss just to hear you moan. “— go down so I can fucking devour this pussy again.”

You giggle and nod, waiting for her mouth to pull back from your collarbone to lean down and kiss her. She groans into your mouth, hands squeezing your ass as you lick into her mouth with need. You squeeze your cunt around her cock, feeling your skin prickle with goosebumps as she growls into your ear after pulling back from your mouth.

“Oh, you little whore,” She licks the shell of your ear and you squirm on her lap in reply, still dizzyingly needing more from her.

Her words, the heat of her breath on your ear makes you throb despite being stuffed and impaled on her, “Gonna split you open on this dick, just fuckin’ wait.”

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[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

*deep sigh* I was, as always, inspired by @ilostthewar , aka Baby Moth. This is that post right here.

This got pretty long and I sorta like it. And I will be writing this in multiple parts because I am a sucker for porn with plot.

Title: Soap found her

18+ poly omegaverse 141 x reader

You had known Soap, or Johnny, as he insisted you call him for all of three months. He is one of the few omegas on base, and it's nice to have the comraderie. You work in the civilian and contractor sector, doing intelligence and all of the alphas and betas annoy you. They normally do their best to either coddle you or assert their dominance. So when you meet Johnny, it's like a breath of fresh air.

It starts off slowly at first. Lunch together, you bring him things that you make to share. He's particularly fond of your cooking but is head over heels for the sugary treats you give him. You don't notice how there are two other alphas and a beta watching you two, as you whisper and laugh about things only omegas would get. Next comes deliberate plans to hang out away from base. You invite him to your flat, it's cozy, and you show him the rows of shelves and baskets and trunks full of nesting things. Blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, and fabric softeners and scent sprays. You explain that you change your nest and the theme of the nest monthly, just one life's little pleasures.

Johnny likes that your place is cute and kitschy and that you don't use the big lights in any room and opt for various soft fairy lights. Back on base in his pack's home, the guys notice that Johnny is redoing his own nest. He's added led strip lights, fairy lights, and softer more delicate blankets and pillows. He comes back home one day and gives each of his pack mates a squishmallow to cuddle and sleep with, really drench it in their scents before it goes into his nest. Price and Simon don't think much of the change, and they only notice when Kyle says, "Johnny doesn't normally feed into these types of behaviors."

This causes the three of them to watch their omega a bit closer. The only thing they notice is that Johnny has made a new omega friend, and any unease they had is quelled.

The fourth month comes of you and Johnny knowing each other, and now you're both very close. He has a key to your place and swings by often. So much so that your home carries his scent and the trace scent of the alphas and beta from his pack. You and him do everything that pack omegas would do, together! Things such as shopping for nesting materials, visiting omega only cafés (and you're shocked truly that he hasn't done something like that), he's even gone shopping with you for heat toys to prepare for your upcoming heat (the look he gives you during that trip was one you couldn't really decipher. But his cheeks were pink often).

So much time being spent together means that things...tend to sync up.

Johnny is the first to notice it when his heat is a week late. He confirms that he's not been accidentally pupped by his pack (they are all very careful with not getting him pregnant). The doctor laughs at him and says with a smile on his face, "Your body is probably trying to sync up with a new pack mate."

Johnny is shocked with news, and it's even more true when you start complaining about your own heat not showing up.

"Johnny, I went and saw my primary. She said my hormones are okay, but my body is preparing for a heat soon... Do you think we synced up?" You whisper on the phone with him. It's a bit later in the evening and you've been worried all day since your own appointment. Your heat was due two weeks ago. "I won't be able to make it back to my family in time to be looked after."

"Well, bonnie Bunny." He says quietly, he's laying in his own nest. Simon's shirt fits loosely on him, and the sweats he stole from Gaz fit for the most part. He's got his face in the stuffed animal that smells like cigar smoke and teakwood and notes of the expensive cologne that Price likes to sometimes wear. "My own doctor thinks we're synced up, haven't told my pack yet, but the doctor is suggesting that my team and I be benched until the new break through heat comes."

"Oh Johnny, I'm so sorry." You whimper. "I didn't think this would happen -"

"Nothing to say sorry for bonnie." His voice is low, "I think it's a good thing. I've finally got the push to ask you if you want to, uh...formally meet my pack. They know your scent, and they like it." He chuckles at the memory of Simon inhaling the lingering scent of you from a pillow case he took for his own nest. Another thing that close omegas did was share nesting items and comfort each other.

You're silent for a moment, and it worries him. There's a sigh, it's dreamy in a way, "I'll admit, seeing you with those three on base was nice. I may be respectful, but I'm not blind."

He's grinning like the Cheshire cat. Johnny has always wanted another omega in the pack, but most omegas were either afraid of Simon or put off by Price (he's a bit of a control freak). They also didn't want to be brought into a military ran pack with the chance of one of them randomly getting killed in action. It's fate really that both of your bodies decided to sync up like airpods.

The next morning at the breakfast table, before they all get pulled in different directions for the day, Johnny sets down his lab reports in front of Price. He's not daft. He knows that they know his heat is late. Kyle had made a mention of it in passing that he had stocked up on everyone's favorite snacks and whatnot and that they have not used them yet. At the time Johnny just shrugged, feeling sluggish but nowhere near ready or wanting to be knotted and fucked stupid.

Price raises an eyebrow as he sips his coffee, "You had an appointment and didn't tell us?" He seems a bit hurt. Like if something was wrong with any of his boys, his loves, he would have noticed it. Sure, Johnny's heat was late, but that's happened before when he was stressed over a mission or the outcome of a mission. He chalked it up to the last op they were on, nasty work, but they all made it back in one piece.

"Yeah." Johnny makes himself a plate of food and grabs the orange juice from the fridge. "Been feeling off lately, and it's a new break through heat cycle forming."

This time, it's Simon who snorts. He's not one for random changes. He remembers when his father would have random changes to his rut, and it always meant that he had been cheating on his mom. He really doesn't want to assume the worst right away. "What are you trying to say, Johnny?"

"I want you guys to meet my friend." He says with a small smile, "The friend that smells like toasted marshmallows and sugar cane."

The guys all perk up about that bit of information. The air in the room seemed to be charged with anticipation. Common knowledge that omegas tended to keep their omega friends separate from their packs to avoid issues. Their darling Johnny had found a friend, a new pack mate, and was trying to gauge if they would all accept her. Kyle is the first to break the silence.

"Well." The chair creaks as he leans back in it. In thought, "Is she the reason your cycle has been thrown off, and is that stack of papers from your doctor about to bench us until your break through heat is over?"

He feels a bit sheepish at being called out. "I really like her, and I've been to her house and seen her nest and I'd like to show her mine" he rattles off hastily, "nothing has happened besides us hanging out, and you guys like her scent and well..." Johnny thinks over his next words carefully. He doesn't want to offend his mates, and he doesn't want to put them on the spot. The deep sigh he lets out is long and he listens as John shifts through the doctor orders and suggestions about being benched while waiting for a new heat cycle to happen.

"Tell us Johnny." Kyle reaches over and grabs his hand lovingly. "We won't be mad."

"I get lonely sometimes and normally I can keep a good balance but sometimes you just need that extra bit to make it whole and I think she's that extra bit that could make, me- us whole." He quickly corrects, but everyone already heard.

The reality that Johnny wanted another omega in the pack settled on everyone. It was sudden but understandable. Two alphas and a beta (who leaned more towards being an alpha sometimes) could be a bit much on one omega. They didn't need to think it over, just feeling the dull scent of honey apples coming from him says it all.

John looks up from the papers and smiles gently, "Sure, we'll meet her and go from there." Getting up, he downs the rest of his coffee and moves to put his dishes away. "I'll get the paperwork put in for stand-by medical leave for us. Pick someplace comfortable for you and her, you little muppet."

Johnny can only grin about this change of events.

He's also very excited to experience a synced heat with another omega in his pack. But he's not the only one if the dreamy look on Kyle's face and how Simon looks to be excited is anything to go by.

[softjeekies]

Waiting After The Rain - Masterlist

Pairing: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: a/b/o, past abuse physical and verbal, past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory, mentions of vomit/vomit scenes, fem reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6…

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Omega Knight

Male Alpha Dragon-Hybrid x Male Omega Reader CW: Noncon, stalking, reader fucked into the mud, reader fucked so hard he pisses himself, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, stockholm syndrome, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics, mating cycles/heat, two-dicked dragon-man, double penetration, knotting, biting, claiming bites, combat, medieval dystopia with shitty gender roles, praise kink Word Count: 4.9k (This is a comm for somone wishing to remain anonymous. I hope everyone enjoys it. I made it much longer than it was supposed to be.)

In a time defined by the prominence of magic, the might of kings, the power of knights, and discriminatory sex and gender views, it was extremely difficult to be an omega. They were commonly looked upon as sex objects, incubators, and the property of whoever they ended up forced to marry. Male omegas, given their rarity, were treated as particularly fragile trophies.

You were one such male omega. Not wanting their only son to be looked down upon as someone’s property or prize, your parents raised you as an alpha. They were not the highest house of nobles, but they were still very wealthy. They used their connections and power to get you the very best magically enhanced suppressants and fake alpha scent.

With a combination of careful planning, staying as far from others as you could, and suppressants you manage to become one of the knights of the realm. Despite your smaller stature, everyone thought you were an alpha given your fake scent, dedication, and skill. It took a lot of effort to push your omega body so hard, but you persevered, not willing to besmirch the honor of your house through failure. Your father helped train you, and you paid for your station with sweat and bruises.

Once you became a knight you were one of the very few who worked alone. Knights were responsible for defending the country from the more dangerous bandits and the ever present threat of highly dangerous monstrosities. As such they typically worked in groups and went on missions that could take days to weeks. But you couldn’t risk getting caught applying suppressants and fake scent while out on the road. This required you to be better trained and more skilled than anyone else could hope to be.

The result was that you were quick and lethal on every single mission, quickly racking up kills. You started out by being sent to take down bandits, as every new knight is. But that isn’t what you stayed doing for very long.

You quickly graduated to the occasional ghoul or wandering undead, though these were little more than slow moving beasts. Honestly, rarely as dangerous as a bandit.

From there you went on to put tougher foes in the ground. Chimeras, gargoyles, and the like. They were still feral but they were much more cunning and moved without the stiffness that plagued the undead.

Finally you were regularly slaying werewolves and vampires. Considered to be the deadliest of foes. The king himself had assigned you some of your tasks and awarded you medals for your courage and skill. You became renowned across the land, your name muttered far and wide for your impressive service. Though, as always, you never lingered after receiving praise or rewards. To be discovered at this point would mean enduring certain… consequences…

One day you were summoned to meet the king privately. As you passed the guards and presented your summons you weren’t nervous at all, you assumed that there was a threat to the kingdom that only you could be trusted to resolve. Probably one that was a bit too discreet to share via messenger. Something that could cause embarrassment or panic.

Your assumption was dead wrong.

When you reached the king on his throne you saw he was accompanied by one of the princes, the one who was around your age and also an omega. Prince Orleias stared at you eagerly. It was rather unnerving, though not something that was entirely foreign to you. There were many omegas that looked at you like that.

“Ah, there you are, prompt as always.”

You gave a smile and curt nod at his praise.

“Of course your grace, I would never keep you waiting.”

“I have something very important to discuss with you. You are a well decorated knight of this land and have saved hundreds of lives, if not more. You are also high born and the heir to your house name.”

He paused and looked at you and then back to his son for a moment.

“I am giving you my son’s hand in marriage. He wholeheartedly agrees.”

At this Prince Orleias crept towards you and clung to your arm, looking at you with unfettered admiration. Uh-oh.

You didn’t know what to do, if you declined it would surely enrage the king and possibly bring his ire down upon your entire family. He was not known to be an angry man, but he took note of traditions and honor as most in this society did. He wouldn’t behead you, but it would be highly offensive.

On the other hand, if you accepted, then your secret would be found out. And that deception would be received very poorly indeed.

Luckily, as if the very gods were interjecting on your behalf, a messenger came scurrying into the room to interrupt.

“Sire! Sire!”

“What’s the meaning of this intrusion!? I am discussing a very important personal matter with our top warrior here!”

“Yes sire! I beg your apologies! But we have reports of a dragon terrorizing the small town of Umbrafell!”

Your head was immediately filled with images of villages fleeing in terror as a flying beast rained down fire and fury down from above. You had to help, no one else had as good of a chance to defeat such a creature! This was also your opening to remove yourself from accepting the proposal… or at the very least buy yourself some time to think of a more permanent solution… You extricated yourself out of the clingy grip of the amorous prince.

“My king! I will go at once! It is one of the mightiest beasts in all of the world and I have the best chance to defeat it!”

You quickly dashed from the room and out of the castle and made your way home to don your armor and set out on your newly acquired quest before the king could object, not that he would have. You were obviously the best choice for the job.

Once you had your weapon, armor, and pack of supplies you set out at once on one of the knight’s horses. As grateful as you were from the reprieve that the situation had afforded you, it was still a very serious situation with the lives of many potentially in danger. You had never even fought a dragon before and it was not a fight to be taken lightly. You couldn’t even recall if any living knight had ever encountered one.

The best plan was to talk to the locals once you got to the town and ask them what exactly they had seen of the beat, find out its size, age, speed, and elemental attributes. It was probably a fire dragon, that was the most common from the old tales and songs.

The town of Umbrafell was on the southern outskirts of the kingdom. It would be a journey of a few days to get there.

You continued on at a steady pace that wasn’t too demanding of the horse but still gave you good progress on your journey. You had to stop and camp a couple nights, and stop when necessary to eat and allow your mount to rest and get hydrated, but the weather was pleasant and you made remarkable time. You arrived in Umbrafell late in the morning on the third day of your quest.

The questioning of several of the locals had you believing that the dragon was a giant beast that descended upon the villagers and their livestock, devastating entire flocks and burning to cinders entire fields. Definitely an adult dragon of fire.

The question was how would you fell such a creature? Charging in blindly was not an option. You decided drugging would be the best option. But you didn’t even know if dragons were susceptible to such things. And even if they were it probably would be far too clever to take any form of drugged bait. No, the course of action most likely to end without your smoldering corpse was to find the lair, stake it out, and wait for it to sleep before attacking.

The locals pointed you in the direction the dragon came from. A thick forested area with many hills and slopes. Not the best area to take a horse. You left your mount at the local livery stable, you paid well and knew the knightly steed would be well looked after.

You trekked through the forest for several hours, there was no telling exactly where the dragon had set up its den and you only had a general direction to search in. Whatever lodgings the dragon had found or made for itself had to be massive so you were sure that you’d know it when you came across it.

As you continued your search you cursed your omega biology. Something you did frequently. You felt a familiar tingle in your belly that was unmistakable. Your body was getting ready to enter heat. Even with magic suppressants there was just no way to completely avoid a heat. Or to hide one if someone got too close to you during one. The best modern magical marvels could do was shorten one and make it less intense.

Another reason you’d have to avoid marrying the prince. But that was something you could worry about at a later time, it would do you no good to have your mind head elsewhere while trying to locate and kill a dragon.

Little did you know that the dragon had already located you, long before you had entered its territory. The only warning you had was the swoosh of wings as he descended upon you. Your reaction was fast though and you managed to block the strike of his sharp claws with your blade. What the hell? He wasn’t a giant dragon… he was a half-breed… A race of dragon-human hybrids originally created with a magical blood pact between ancient dragons and wizards. The locals let their fear overtake them and greatly exaggerated the threat.

That didn’t mean you could take him lightly, dragon hybrids were known to be powerful and swift. Well they were rumored to be, at least. They were even less common than dragons.

A more ferocious foe you had never encountered, clawing and slashing at you with grace and brutality. The scales on his hands and arms allowed him to strike your blade with no weapon other than his relatively short claws. They were black and shimmered with each movement. They covered his well muscled arms, legs, and framed his face. To get a good strike on him you’d have to hit his face or chest.

Easier said than done. He was nearly 7ft. tall and exceptionally strong. He wasn’t making this simple for you. What was worse than that though were his mounting pheromones. As the battle went on he sweated more and more, and with no clothing other than a barbarian style fur loincloth it was easy to smell him. The musk of a normal human alpha was something you had long since learned to ignore as if it was damn near nothing, but this wasn’t like that at all. It was making you a little dizzy.

“You should just give up omega.”

His sensitive nose could pierce through your false scent. You shook your head and redoubled your focus and determination. You stared right into his fiery red eyes as you deflected a harrowing blow before tackling him with your metal clad body, opening him up to an additional attack. You slashed into his torso, causing him to recoil in pain. You pressed the advantage and stabbed him in the abdomen.

The dragon almost sliced you to ribbons before you could withdraw your weapon from him. Were he a regular man he would likely be on the ground bleeding out by now, but he was no regular man and roared as he began attacking you wildly.

Every strike was either dodged, deflected, or uselessly glanced off your armor. You got a few more solid strikes in, one on his bicep above where the scales started and another across the chest. He was breathing harder.

But for some reason so were you.

“Y-you should just give up alpha,” you sneered mocking what he had said to you earlier. Though it sounded a lot less intimidating than you had intended.

You started shaking and had to kneel down, leaning on your sword in the dirt. Pain in your stomach, a biological demand, slick rolling down your thighs beneath your armor. You were burning up. His pheromones hung thickly in the air, they had brought forth your heat much faster and harder than you had ever experienced before, completely negating any effect of the suppressants in your body.

All your experience and combat skill and taken down by a dragon’s musk and your own omega biology? It was a disgrace.

Now given the proper time to recover he used healing magic on his wounds. Combined with his already naturally enhanced healing abilities this resulted in him having only faint scars where he was previously injured. “Aww, all helpless because of your little heat darling~”

He sauntered over to you and looked down with a smug expression.

“Sorry for getting the drop on you, but you would have gotten it on me had you found me first. Anyway… now that you are a bit less feisty I think we can do a proper introduction now can’t we?”

Your heat was so strong now that you could barely focus on breathing evenly as you tried to stumble away. There was no way you could find the words to respond.

“I am Ivos, your mate. Don’t worry, I already know your name and everything about you.”

He pushed you down to your knees and kicked away your sword. At this distance his pheromones demanded your attention. He removed your helmet and started prying your armor apart plate by plate, totally scrapping the armor that had been so important to you. Soon you were in nothing but your regular clothes and then not even those as he sliced them up with his claws.

Now you were completely naked before him. The smell of his arousal was palpable. You glanced up towards him and noticed two large bulges poking out in his loincloth. He put his hand on your cheek and rubbed it with a scaled thumb. All it took was that touch for the last of your resolve to melt.

“I have been waiting for this for so long, have been following you for over a year now. Came across you taking down a horde of undead. Then watched you fight battle after battle. Scared the town because I knew it would draw you out. So strong. The only mate worthy of me. But an omega still shouldn’t be forced to live like an alpha.”

All you could do was whimper in need.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you wait any longer. Couldn’t hold out if I tried.”

Ivos pulled off his loincloth and revealed two large slimy cocks, proud and erect, protruding from his genital slit. He sat down right on the ground then pulled you into his lap, he grinded his dicks against your hole then stretched it with a couple fingers before lifting you up and slamming you down. Both of his cocks firmly impaled your weeping hole. You gasped in pleasure. You had never put anything inside of you to relieve your heats, you thought giving into your omega nature would be like giving in to something you shouldn’t.

He grinded slowly into you, back and forth, making you drool as you leaned against him weakly. He teased your neck with his long tongue, swirling and lapping at your sensitive gland there. Your toes flexed and writhed as he did so. This felt so good. So so good. This is where you wanted to be for the rest of eternity, on his lap skewered on both of his cocks while inhaling his smell.

The dragon wanted to take your bliss to a higher level though, he increased the speed of his thrusts into you while carefully stroking your cock with the hand he wasn’t using to caress your back. He kept at it for a while, gradually increasing the pace as he went. You came hard, panting and shaking as your seed coated his abdomen.

Over the course of the next two hours you were entirely at the mercy of his sexual desire, too overstimulated to do anything other than twitch in pleasure and drool as he broke your brain with orgasm after orgasm. You gasped as he came inside you, stretching your virgin hole to its absolute limit with not one but two girthy knots. He did what came to him instinctively, biting your neck and claiming you as his with a mark. The stimulation was so extreme you not only emptied your balls once more but also your bladder, piss getting all over the both of you.

Ivos didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact he seemed pretty pleased with having fucked you so completely that you lost control of your entire body. He licked the bite mark he had branded you with free of blood before picking you up and flying to his lair, knots still firmly inside you. He took your sword with him, figuring the blade you had come so far with may be of sentimental value to you, but he left the destroyed armor and his loincloth.

Ivos held you as tightly as he could, the cold air returning you to your senses and making you very uncomfortable. When his cocks slipped out of you and retracted back into him gobs of cum dripped out onto the forest below. He smirked at how strongly you clung to him. It wasn’t like you wanted to, but you were terrified at being up so high. You certainly wouldn’t struggle when it could mean your death if you fell.

Your new lover had made his residence in a relatively small tower abandoned beyond the hills. By the time you got there you were so sore and tired from holding on so tight, and the brutal fucking you had endured earlier, that you were in no condition to rebel. You were so obedient when he cleaned you up and fed you. It made his heart flutter, his strong mate being so good for him.

“Such a good boy~”

A grunt of defiance was all you could muster in the way of a rebellious response.

Ivos would quickly learn that you would not be staying so well behaved. You fought him at every opportunity. And he fucked you back into compliance every time he needed to. It took a long while but at least you stopped struggling at the sex. It actually felt quite amazing. And afterwards you were always so good for him.

Even so, while he admired your rebellious spirit, he wanted you to like him all the time. Not just when you were drowning in his pheromones and bouncing on his knots. He caught you the best food, took care of all your needs, brought you trinkets and gifts that would have otherwise gone to his hoard. Sometimes it seemed like you resented these gestures, you were trying so hard to not be a typical omega, and he supposed you really weren’t to some extent.

He had an idea of what to do to get you to enjoy his company more, though he could tell you were planning an escape soon. Your scent was one of someone on edge. Someone deceptive. Luckily you had no idea he could smell such a thing.

The hybrid wanted to start taking you out to hunt with him, maybe even fight some monsters. He had come to the conclusion that maybe you weren’t entirely forced to act like an alpha, maybe you enjoyed some aspects of it and he needed to ease back a bit on catering to you as if you were a princess.

But he had to get you to give up hope of escape before he could trust you going on long outings, not to mention letting you wield lethal weaponry… he didn’t even let you have access to your sword...

Ivos was spot on about you trying to get away. You had spent a couple weeks with him and were constantly thinking about potential plans for getting away. You were also studying his behaviors. Testing how deep a sleeper he was, for example. You weren’t just going to bolt at the first chance. It had to be calculated.

To make your move, you needed a rainy day. The sound of the rain would help hide the sounds of your escape. Of course, you realized that even if your armor hadn't been reduced to scrap, you still would have had to abandon it whenever you made your bid for freedom. The pang of water on metal would give you away along with the weight adding to your footprints and slowing you down. You mourned its loss, not for the first time.

You also needed rain to help mask your scent from that damned sensitive dragon nose of his.

It was grueling. Having to wait for the perfect weather when you had no idea when it would finally rain. Having to act good and behave. Keep your head down and bear the sexual and romantic harassment that were damn near unrelenting. And those damnable pheromones of his. But finally, you had what you so desperately wanted.

A glorious downpour. You couldn't ask for a better chance at escape. Dark clouds late at night. Loud booming crashes of thunder. Pounding rain that would soak you in seconds. You just prayed that it would be enough to wash away your pheromones without your suppressants.

As stealthily as you could, you made your way down the tower and slunk out into the concealment of the storm. The only thing you brought with you were the clothes on your back and your sword for protection from whatever may dwell in the night. Unknown to you, Ivos had let it “fall” from the high place where he had mounted it. Didn’t want you to get hurt by something during your escape attempt.

Once you had traversed the nearby hills and then the forest, you'd be near the village he had terrorized to bait you and could get your horse there.

But one thing at a time, you still had to clear the sloping terrain and trees before you could worry about that. You went as fast as you could go without slipping in the mud or splashing through puddles, but it was going to be a long journey.

Ivos had been asleep when you crept out, or so you thought, but you couldn't be sure how long he would remain that way.

As you continued on through the rain filled night, you began to feel gradually more confident and hopeful about your freedom. You were going to make it. You had been worried if you had been able to maintain the correct course given the darkness and disorienting thunder, but after hours of hiking there it was, the edge of the forest. And when lightning flashed, you could see the town in the distance.

You were so close! You increased your pace, spurred on by the promise of successful liberation. Then, beneath the constant patter of rain, you could have sworn you heard the swoosh of wings. Probably the wind rushing through the tre-

The next thing you knew, you were on your stomach, pushed into the mud. Your sword kicked away uselessly. Your hope was shattered. You struggled, but you might as well have been a mewling kitten.

"If you wanted to play cat and mouse, darling, all you had to do was ask."

You clambered to get away, clawing at the wet ground, as he pulled you back towards him and slashed away all your clothes before sighing laboriously.

"You had been behaving so well too... I guess I'm going to have to give you a little attitude adjustment..."

Both of his large cocks protruded at full length from his genital slit. The rain had quickly faded to a light sprinkle, and the smell of his musk had quickly grown overwhelming. The smell of his desire rolled off of him and quickly had you once more slicked up against your will.

"There's a good boy~"

Your hole twitched around his fingers as he teased you by slipping them inside. You struggled to contain a whimper as you grinded your ass against his fingers.

"Beg for it."

You tried to resist, but his scent and touch had completely taken over your brain. You didn't even have a heat to blame it on this time, and he wasn't in rough. Just his aroused musk could reduce you to a throbbing ball of need.

"Pl-please just... do it already..."

You were glad the darkness of night and the grime that clung to you covered the shame on your face.

"Good enough."

He smoothly slipped both slimy cocks right on into you.

"Damn, that's gooood."

Once more, his twin pricks pounded into you at an increasing pace, filling you far better than any one-cocked human alpha could ever hope to.

Ivos smirked at your wanton moans. They were like candy for his ears. Proof that if you ever got too far out of line he could just fuck you back into obedience. With your armor and blade, you may have been a skilled combatant, but what did it matter when he could make you so helpless?

He kept right on railing you into the mud. His cocks filled you to the brim with cum as he renewed his claiming bite on your neck. You shuddered and came as he knotted you up, the girth of both knots firmly adhering the two of you together.

But he was far from done with your little "lesson." He didn't stop until both of you had come several times, and you lay beneath him trembling and barely conscious.

When his knots went down and his cocks slipped out cum splooged out all over your ass, thighs, and legs. You were covered in mud. Calling you a mess was a serious understatement. Though you were in no state of mind to care.

"Aaaah, that was great~"

The dragon picked you up bridal style and flew the two of you back home. He ran you a bath and cleaned you of all the mud, sweat, and cum.

The next thing you knew, you were in bed with his arms wrapped firmly around you. As the events from last night came back to you, you silently cursed yourself for having been taken so easily.

It became a new pattern in your defiance of him. One carefully curated by Ivos. You'd run off and, just as you were about to escape the forest, he'd swoop right in and fuck you damn near senseless. Then he'd take you back, and you'd wake up clean and in his arms.

You tried in various weather conditions, times of day, you tried fighting, you tried plugging your nose to shield against his scent, but no matter what you did it played out exactly the same.

The final time you had ever tried to escape went much like all the others, up until you neared the tree line. You paused, eyeing the divide between the forest and grassland that would lead you down into Umberfell.

Though you could not see him, Ivos was watching you intently, ready to pounce upon you at the last possible moment. A growing sense of unease gripped you. You even started shaking. No no. You couldn't go forward... Ivos would have you on the ground and fuck you into the dirt... It was all pointless.

You turned and ran back to the dragon's tower.

Ivos smiled brightly from his hidden position in the trees. Your training was complete, you knew what would happen if you tried to do something silly like running off. Now he could, at long last, execute his idea.

It did take much longer than Ivos would have liked, but the alpha was patient and ultimately he had gotten the results he wanted. Taking you out to hunt, letting you prepare and cook your own meat half the time, taking you out for some good old fashion monster slaying, not doting on you too much outside of your heats while at the same time tending to your biological needs by supplying you with all the dick and musk you could want, had gradually made you happily in love with him.

It was much better than your old life, you came to realize that. Being allowed to do things that alphas typically did and no longer having to repress your scent and omega instincts was liberating.

What’s more, you no longer had such weighty responsibilities. The burden of the kingdom’s safety, a kingdom that would have shunned you had they known your secret, was an immense weight to shoulder. And if you had made it back what would have happened anyway? Be a hermit forced to live alone as an alpha for the rest of your life? Thrown into a life of dishonor for refusing the king’s request that you marry his son? No matter what, you would have been miserable.

Ivos had actually freed you, and you loved him deeply.

[woncheolisms]

Thinking about Alpha!Sukuna who thinks all humans smell disgusting. He just cannot stomach their scent. To him it’s like smelling farm animals. Whether it was years ago during his time or now, while he inhabits the body of this pink-haired brat, humans still smell like cow manure. Overbearing and disgustingly heavy. He cannot stand it.

But when your scent hits his nose for the first time, he can’t help but stiffen. It’s…. light. Fresh. He smells coconut and citrus. It reminds him of the shrine made for him by the townspeople centuries ago, where they would offer him fruit and worship him. When he was revered and feared all the same.

He sees you then. Feisty little thing despite being an omega. You are a good sorcerer, filled with potential that he recognises even if your peers don’t. And Sukuna is hit with the overwhelming urge to scent you. In a way that the Alpha in him has never acted out before.

And it shocks him that you’re a human. A mere human who somehow fills him with intrigue. How dare you? But also, he needs you. Carnally. Now.

Once the King of Curses sets his eyes on you, good luck trying to escape him. You’re his forever. For the rest of his life.

[ladylaviniya]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 || 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐎𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐚𝐭, 𝐎𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐀/𝐁/𝐎, 𝐚𝐠𝐞-𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚!𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐗 𝐎𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖𝐤+

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟏𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝟏𝟑:𝟎𝟎𝐩𝐦, 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚, 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚.

It was just darkness, a never ending black that you were vaguely conscious to, wondering if you’d ever awaken. The sensation of floating was ruined as your body fell and kept falling, hitting hard onto a uncomfortable mattress. A ripping breath of air tore out of you as you tried to sit up, sweat had soaked your hair and skin.

You were on a soft material. Your palm covered your chest trying to control the painful stabs of your pounding heart. Your eyes darted around the room, discovering you were no longer in the hospital. You were in a cubicle space on a squeaky bed.

The bed you were sweating on was surrounded by three walls and a curtain. You swallowed hard before hesitantly climbing on top of the mattress to stand up and peer over the tops of the walls. You could see a grand hall almost. Rows of cubicles filled with single and bunk beds surrounded the area. You counted at least thirty cubicles that you could see.

You were utterly, terrifyingly alone.

Heart hammering, you climbed back down onto the mattress, your legs shaking. Only then did you notice the gown you were wearing. It was plain, stark in its modesty, a long white dress that buttoned up tightly to your neck, the sleeves cuffed neatly at your wrists. Over it was a blue apron, stiff and scratchy, tied tightly around your waist.

You stared at yourself, horror curdling in your stomach. The fabric was starched and thick, the kind of material that resisted touch, that rubbed the skin raw after too long. It wasn’t just clothing, it was a uniform.

You recognized the style, too, the same way you’d seen women dressed in documentaries about closed religious communities, the kind churned out by sanitized Netflix exposés or twisted into lurid spectacles on reality TV. Mormons. Amish. Groups that preached obedience, subservience, purity.

Your hands moved on instinct, fingernails scraping at the fabric. That’s when you noticed your nails.

Clipped short. Cleaned underneath.

Your body stiffened with a jolt of revulsion.

You hadn't done that.

Someone had bathed you, stripped you, scrubbed you clean like an object, a possession, while you were unconscious and helpless. Your skin crawled at the thought, a sick, twisting disgust knotting in your stomach. What else had they done while you slept in that dark void?

A gleam caught your eye.

You lifted your left wrist, and there it was.

A metal bracelet, fastened tightly, cold against your skin. Permanent. Shiny and new.

Your breath hitched as you leaned in to read the thin, cruel lettering etched into the surface.

NAME: ______ ______

D.O.B.: XX/XX/XXXX

STATUS: OMEGA

The final word was the worst, carved in precise, mechanical lettering. Cold. Permanent. Branding you like livestock. A product, tagged and cataloged for processing.

You touched it, lightly, as if hoping it would come off. It didn’t. It was seamless. Unbreakable.

A choked sound escaped your throat. Not quite a sob, not quite a scream. Just the sound of something breaking.

Somewhere in the distance, far beyond the cubicles, a door creaked open with a mechanical whine. Footsteps, soft, measured, echoed faintly on the cold concrete floor.

You dropped back onto the bed, your hands gripping the thin blanket, chest heaving as panic clawed at your lungs.

You weren’t in a hospital anymore.

You were somewhere worse.

Correction.

Your throat tightened to the point of aching. Spring, it was supposed to be warm now, humid even, but the air in this place was cold and thin, leeching the heat straight out of your bones. Your fingers fumbled clumsily at the high, stifling collar of the dress, wrenching the top button open. A weak gust of air brushed your skin, but it wasn’t enough.

You prodded the swollen gland nestled in the crook of your neck, just above your collarbone, sore, inflamed. It throbbed beneath your touch, a dull, angry ache that made you wince. You pressed your hand flat to your chest, trying to breathe, to steady the frantic stabs of your pulse.

The curtain snapped back, tearing the fabric aside with a sharp hiss.

You flinched, heart leaping to your throat.

Standing there was a woman, no, a relic, draped in a habit so severe it seemed to pull her skin taut against her skull. Her face was a pale, wrinkled map of lines and creases, her thin lips dragged downward by gravity and ill temper. She resembled a fish, or perhaps something worse, a wide-mouthed lizard, waiting for a struggling fly to land too close.

Her blue eyes gleamed, cold and flat, as she stretched her lips into a thin, mechanical smile.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice sugary but brittle, the kind of voice that broke under pressure. “Would you like some breakfast?”

You stared at her, stunned by how wrong she felt. Her words were sweet, her tone superficially kind, but there was nothing welcoming about her, nothing warm. It was a hollow performance, skin-deep and polished thin. You could feel it in your bones: she didn’t care.

She smiled like a spider smiles at a trapped fly.

Despite the ache in your gut, despite the hollow hunger gnawing at your insides, you hesitated. Your instincts screamed caution. You knew, without knowing how, that nothing she offered would be truly safe.

But she was the only way out of the cubicle. The only exit you could see.

Skepticism coiled tightly in your gut, but fear was stronger, the fear of staying trapped. You darted your eyes around the space, searching for exits, for pathways, but nothing revealed itself. The heavy silence of the empty hall pressed in around you.

You couldn’t remember where they had taken you, not exactly. The transport van had been dark and windowless.

You were a prisoner.

“Come on now, girl,” the nun chirped, her brittle smile sharpening. She clapped her papery hands together, the sound startling in the silence. “Don’t dawdle.”

You stood, forcing your legs to move, your thighs chafing against the scratchy fabric as you followed close on her heels. With every step, your unease grew. The stiff cotton of the unfamiliar underwear chafed unpleasantly, and you swallowed against the nausea that crept up your throat.

They had bathed you. Dressed you. Touched you while you were unconscious.

And you hadn’t even been awake to resist.

As you trailed the nun down a wide corridor, your eyes flicked from side to side. Door after door after door, sterile offices labeled for doctors and nurses, kitchens, laundry rooms, classrooms. There were rooms filled with rows of art supplies, other rooms with plastic playpens and.....

You recoiled, heart thudding.

Fake nurseries.

They were preparing you, not for freedom, not for a life outside, but for breeding. For submission. Your nose wrinkled at the antiseptic air mixed with the faint, sour tang of fear and desperation that seemed baked into the very walls.

You passed a looming marble statue next, a woman draped in robes, her carved belly impossibly round and heavy with child. Atop her head sat a crescent moon crown, delicate but cold.

Selene. Or Luna, the goddess of the moon, of fertility.

You felt betrayed by the sight. You’d never been particularly religious, but still. Wasn’t she supposed to be merciful? Isn’t that what you learned when you were young? That the goddess was fair? If she were, if there were any justice, she would never have let your parents hand you over. Never let you become this.

Your gaze dropped to the plinth where her name was carved in heavy block letters:

SAINT SELENE’S SCHOOL FOR ADOLESCENT OMEGAS

A lie. It wasn’t a school. It was a prison wrapped in dogma and duty.

You pressed on behind the nun, your eyes catching movement outside. A glimpse of windows, thick, fogged glass that barely let in the pale light.

You leaned, peering outside.

Beyond the scattered squat buildings, classrooms, dorms maybe, rose a towering fence. Steel and concrete. Thick, ugly barbed wire curled along the top like a crown of thorns. It wasn’t just a barrier.

It was a warning.

You stopped in your tracks, the breath knocked from your lungs.

You weren’t at a school.

You were in a cage.

A cry broke free from your chest before you could stop it. Sharp, guttural, cracking against the sterile air. Tears blurred your vision and spilled down your cheeks unchecked.

You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to your friends. Would Emily and Jayden know? Would your parents even bother to tell them? Or would you simply vanish, written off and forgotten, like a stain on the carpet to be scrubbed away?

Would you ever see them again?

The loneliness, vast, endless, cracked you open like a hollow egg. You were alone. You had been ripped from everything you knew, friends, dreams, freedom, as easily as tearing a page from a book.

The nun’s shoes clacked sharply as she turned and stormed back toward you, her expression souring. She didn’t speak, she didn’t need to. Her hand shot out, pinching the thick strap of your apron between her fingers. She tugged you roughly, and you stumbled to catch up, herding you away from the windows like an errant sheep.

You followed because what else could you do?

Your new shoes, stiff, unfamiliar, bit at your heels, but you dared not trip or resist.

Through a pair of massive wooden doors she led you, and they swung open to reveal a cavernous cafeteria.

Three long, unending tables stretched down the room, crowded with girls, Omegas, all dressed identically in the same starched white dresses and blue aprons. They sat in neat, quiet rows, the din of chatter dying immediately as the doors opened.

Every head turned.

Every pair of eyes locked onto you.

Their stares weren’t welcoming, they weren’t curious.

They were hungry.

The nun’s mouth stretched into a grin that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Girls,” she announced, her voice shrill and bright, “please welcome our newest sister to our blessed home, Miss ______ ______.”

She released your apron strap with a final, dismissive pat to your shoulder, a message loud and clear: You’re on your own now.

At the far end of the room sat a long, vertical table, behind which older figures perched, nuns, nurses, men and women in sterile white coats. They smiled, thin, polished smiles, as if you were a guest of honor instead of a lamb to slaughter.

A bowl was shoved into your hands, steaming, pale, plain porridge. A single spoon stuck out of the mush like a sinking ship.

“Well then,” the nun said, leaning down to whisper near your ear, her breath hot and sticky. “Why don’t you find a seat?”

You swallowed, your mouth dry and sour.

You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

The room was suffocating, filled with a heavy, waiting silence as you took your first step down the aisle. You felt the burn of every gaze, every whispered comment that hissed at the edges of your hearing.

Insults about your hair. Your weight. Your scent, dirty, they sneered.

Your hands trembled as you clutched the bowl tighter. The hot porridge sloshed, threatening to spill over the edges.

No one moved to make space.

No one smiled.

No one welcomed you.

They stared and whispered, their words sharp as knives, their eyes colder than the barbed wire outside.

You weren’t one of them.

You were worse.

The bad Omega.

And you realized, heart sinking, that you had been abandoned not just by your parents, but by everyone.

You swallowed hard, the movement tight and painful, and for a brief, desperate second, you prayed the tile floor would crack open and swallow you whole. Anything to disappear, to slip away from the dozens of stares pinning you in place like a butterfly to a board.

Your feet hesitated, scuffing against the floor as you stood at the front of the dining hall, clutching the bowl of porridge so tightly that your knuckles blanched white. The silence pressed on you, heavy and suffocating. You could feel the judgment rolling off the other girls in waves, an invisible current of disdain that made your skin crawl and your gut twist.

You wanted to turn and run, to bolt back through the double doors, but you knew, somehow, that there would be nowhere to run to. No doors would swing open for you here. No escape waited on the other side.

Instead, you forced yourself to move forward, every step a struggle, your shoulders tight, your chin tucked low.

It was like walking into a den of wolves, and you could tell, by the sharp glares and the curling lips, that these wolves had been starved. These girls weren’t curious. They weren’t kind. They were broken, and they didn’t like outsiders. They didn’t want a new sister, a new friend.

Especially not a bad Omega.

As you paced slowly between the tables, the room seemed to close in tighter around you. You could feel their eyes, sharp as glass, sliding over every inch of you, dissecting you. You heard the low, hissing whispers ripple along your path, harsh, ugly comments thrown like stones.

Your hair. Your weight. Your face. Your scent.

Dirty.

The word hit you harder than you expected. You recoiled internally, your heart shrinking in your chest, your cheeks flaming with hot shame. You couldn’t stop the slight hitch in your breath, the sting in your eyes. You blinked rapidly, fighting against the wave of humiliation threatening to drown you.

No one moved to make room for you.

Not one girl slid over or offered a space at their table. They simply stared, their faces impassive or sneering, their conversations resuming in low, hushed murmurs that felt pointed and cruel.

You were just about to give up, just about to stand there frozen and hopeless, when you caught a flicker of movement.

Across the way, at the third table, a girl sat, skinny as a rake, with limp blonde hair pulled back in a tight, no-nonsense braid. She was watching you, her pale eyebrows arched in amusement. With one skeletal hand, she curled her fingers at you in a beckoning gesture.

“Hey, new girl,” she called, her voice carrying a mocking lilt, “come sit with us.”

A sharp click of heels approached, and a nun patrolling the hall scowled in her direction. “Lower your voice,” she snapped.

The girl rolled her eyes with exaggerated slowness and turned back to you with a sly grin, mouthing clearly, Come sit here.

The room’s tension eased marginally as chatter resumed, the sound swelling again like a wave breaking over your head. The girls around you seemed to lose interest, their whispered insults fading back into private conversations. But you still felt their eyes on you, still felt the prickling sense of being watched, judged.

You hesitated for half a heartbeat, instincts telling you that this was no rescue, but the alternative was worse. The alternative was alone.

And you weren’t sure you could survive alone here.

Clutching your bowl tighter, you moved quickly across the room, heart hammering, the hem of your dress whispering around your ankles. You reached the blonde girl’s table, and she shifted, sliding over just enough to make a narrow space for you to sit.

Gratefully, pathetically, you dropped down onto the wooden bench. The surface was cold and hard under your thighs, but you barely noticed.

Only then did you look around and realize she wasn’t alone.

Four other girls clustered near her, a tight little knot of companions, all wearing the same institutional gowns and aprons. They were smiling, but not in a friendly way. Smirking. Watching you like you were some new toy they hadn’t decided how to break yet.

“Are…” you began, your voice small. You bit your bottom lip and forced the words out. “Are you all Omegas?”

The chatter from the other tables surged higher, a dull roar in the background. But here, at this table, everything felt sharper, more dangerous.

The blonde girl barked a laugh, short and sharp, and gestured loosely to herself and her friends. “Nah,” she drawled. “Kylie’s an Alpha elf, an Gen’s a Beta fairy, an why I’m an eleven-fingered witch.” She wiggled her clearly ten-fingered hands for emphasis.

The others giggled, a mean-spirited sound that twisted your gut.

You gave a small, strained chuckle, more a grimace than anything. “Okay,” you muttered, folding your arms tight across your chest. “A simple yes would’ve sufficed.”

One of the other girls leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. She had an olive complexion, a curly dark bob that framed her face, and sharp brown eyes that glinted with amusement.

“What’s got you so hot, new girl?” she asked, voice dripping with faux sweetness. She winked. “Didn’t like your blood results?”

You stiffened at the jab, instinctively tightening your grip on the bowl in front of you. Your eyes flicked down, staring at the pale mush of your porridge. Your stomach growled low and pathetic, but the thought of eating now was nauseating.

You sat forward, stirring the bland oats with the tip of your spoon. “I was supposed to be an Alpha,” you muttered, bitterness slipping into your voice before you could stop it. “But now I’m just a stupid fucking Omega.”

There was a moment of silence, and then a collective, exaggerated gasp from the girls around you. Their expressions shifted, mocking, pained, theatrical.

“Oh no, not a stupid Omega,” one of them crooned sarcastically.

“Poor baby,” another added with a smirk.

You flushed hot with shame.

“Easy with the slurs, new girl,” snapped a voice across from you. You looked up sharply. The speaker was a girl with a sharp face, a severe black pixie cut, and a toothpick bobbing between her lips. She leaned back in her seat, arms folded, sizing you up with a cold, appraising stare. Her features were so severe you might have mistaken her for a boy if it weren’t for the soft curve of her jaw, the absence of an Adam’s apple. There was something hard in her dark eyes, something that made your skin prickle.

“You think we chose this?” she huffed. She tapped her wristband with a sharp finger, Omega engraved in its polished surface, just like yours. “You think any of us dreamed about being ‘breeders not leaders’ or whatever the fuck that cunt Andrew Tate said?”

You dropped your gaze, the heat rising in your cheeks unbearable. She was right. And you hated how much you knew it. Growing up, Omegas had been little more than background noise to you, second-class, unseen, dismissed. You never considered what it felt like. What it cost.

You sniffled, blinking hard against the tears burning at the back of your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of them, didn’t want to show that weakness.

But it leaked out anyway.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

And for a moment, the girls were quiet, watching, weighing, deciding.

“Hey, we get it,” the smallest girl said, leaning over the table like we were sharing a secret. Her ginger braids swung forward as she reached out and, without asking, cupped your hand in hers. Her palm was warm, dry, and steady, weirdly steady for someone in this place.

She gave you this smile, not mean, but not exactly kind either. More like, I know something you don’t.

“Besides,” she added, lowering her voice even though it was already too quiet around you, “rumour is… your parents dumped you here.”

Your chest squeezed so tight it hurt. You didn’t say anything, couldn’t, but your eyes flicked up just in time to catch her jerk her chin toward the front of the room.

You didn’t need to follow her gaze to know where she was looking: the long table where the nuns, the nurses, and the staff sat like kings in a castle. All watching. All waiting.

“They’ve been yapping about it all morning,” she said. “You’re big news. Guess they told the Sisters you’re sticking around this summer.”

She smiled wider, like it was funny.

Like it wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever heard in your life.

Your bottom lip trembled, a total traitor, and you bit it hard to make it stop.

That was it. That was confirmation.

Your parents really had left you. After everything, after all the I love you’s and we’re proud of you’s, it all boiled down to one ugly, stupid fact: there was something in your blood they didn’t like. Something they couldn’t fix. And they didn’t want to deal with it.

So they dumped you.

You blinked fast, rubbing at your eyes before anything embarrassing could happen, like crying in front of a bunch of strangers who already looked at you like you were the world’s saddest charity case.

“How many stay behind?” you croaked out, trying to sound chill, like you didn’t care.

The porridge in front of you looked like glue and tasted worse. You shoveled a spoonful into your mouth anyway. It was like eating wet cardboard. Every chew made your stomach turn, but the hunger was worse. Way worse.

The blonde girl, the one who’d waved you over, popped a smirk. “includin’ you?” she said, dragging it out like she already knew the answer was gonna suck. “Six.”

She started ticking them off like she was introducing a team in a really depressing sport.

“Kylie,” she said, nodding toward a girl who was scraping under her nails with the end of a plastic spoon like she had all the time in the world. She was beautiful in a no-nonsense way, skin a rich, dark brown, lips a weird shade of pink like they’d been scrubbed raw. Somehow, her dress actually fit, not saggy and shapeless like the rest of you, and it made her look even more out of place, like she was slumming it in costume.

“Gen,” she added, and the redhead, the one still holding your hand, beamed like you were old friends. She had the whole soft thing going on: round face, full cheeks, huge blue eyes behind wire glasses. Kind of like a human teddy bear. Except, you guessed, probably not so cuddly if she’d lasted here.

“Chip,” she continued, nodding at the girl with a curly bob and a sharp, birdlike face. Chip gave you a slow, almost lazy smile as she licked porridge off her spoon and wagged her eyebrows like she was in on some private joke you didn’t get.

“Pepper,” she said next, and you didn’t even have to guess who that was.

Pepper sat across from you like a statue, thick arms crossed over her chest, toothpick rolling between her teeth. Her dark eyes were heavy-lidded and unreadable, her biceps straining against the sleeves of her dress. She looked like she could kill you with one hand tied behind her back. Scars ran up and down her forearms, old, round ones, like burns or bites or... you didn’t even want to guess.

Pepper looked like she should’ve been born an Alpha.

“And me,” the blonde said last, flashing a grin. “I’m Legs.” She fluttered her lashes like she was making fun of herself. Her long, skinny arms dangled against the table, her hair was a mess of tangles, and her accent, deep, Southern, made her sound like she walked straight out of some old cowboy movie.

You stared at her. Legs?

Out of, what, a hundred girls, six got left behind for summer? The rest had parents who wanted them. Families who still sent letters and begged them home for breaks.

You had a house, technically.

You just didn’t have anyone who wanted you back in it.

You forced another spoonful of porridge down your throat and nearly gagged. The girls must’ve seen your face twist because they all laughed, not mean, exactly, but not nice either. They banged the table in sync, making the bowls rattle.

You sat there, cheeks burning, wondering if this was what “welcome” felt like in this place.

Chip, Gen, Pepper, Kylie… Legs. You blinked at them, confused.

“What kind of names are those?” you blurted, frowning.

Legs smirked, and Pepper gave a low huff through her nose, shifting her toothpick.

“Are those your real names?” you asked, already kind of knowing the answer but needing to say something.

“Fuck no,” Pepper said, voice low and scratchy. She popped the toothpick from one side of her mouth to the other without blinking. “But it’s what we call each other.”

Gen, the redhead, grinned and piped up like it was the best thing ever. “After you’re here long enough, you get a nickname. You earn it.”

You leaned back a little, piecing it together.

Nicknames. Bad food. Solitary. Uniforms. Rumors and whispers and no one ever really smiling unless it was at someone else’s misery.

This wasn’t a school.

It wasn’t even a home.

It was a fucking prison.

And now you were one of the inmates.

“How long have you all been here?” you asked, your voice low.

You tried to keep it casual, tried to sound like it didn’t really matter, but the way they all shifted a little in their seats, glanced at each other with something between amusement and pity, made your skin crawl.

Maybe, just maybe, you thought, if you could survive the summer, your parents would come back for you. Maybe they’d change their minds, realize they made a mistake. You just had to get through four months.

Four months wasn’t forever. Right?

Legs was the first to answer. She set her spoon down and stretched her arms overhead until her shoulders popped. “I’ve been here the longest,” she said, almost like she was bragging. “Turned twenty four months ago. They dropped me off when I was ‘bout seven, back when they first started takin’ Omegas that young.”

She said it so casually, like it was normal, like she wasn’t telling you she’d basically grown up inside these walls.

She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “Now the little ‘n’s don’t come here. They ship them off to Camp Neoma for Younglin’ Omega Youth.” The way she said it, with that careful, fake-cheerful tone, made it sound like Camp Neoma was a place where hope went to die.

You swallowed hard, the hope you were clinging to slipping a little.

Gen squeezed your fingers again and giggled, a too-bright, too-quick sound that made your stomach twist. “Chip and I came here about the same time. We were ten. Been here ever since.” She tilted her head, smiling like it was just some fun fact about herself. “Seventeen now.”

You nodded, but your brain felt like it was filling with static. Seven years. Locked away for seven years.

“Pepper showed up two years ago,” Gen went on, “and she’s nineteen now.”

Pepper didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. She just draped one thick, scarred arm around Kylie’s shoulders. Kylie, the one who looked the least bothered by anything. She laughed under her breath and tilted her head toward you.

“None of us are leaving until we turn twenty-one,” Pepper said, her voice low and rough. “Unless our parents come back and claim us.”

Kylie smirked, a sharp, almost cruel twist of her mouth. “Absolute abandonment,” she said, like it was a joke. But the others laughed too, soft, bitter chuckles, and it hit you that they weren’t joking at all. They were used to this. This was their normal.

Your stomach turned over again, but not from hunger this time.

Twenty-one.

You did the math in your head.

Four years.

Four years until you aged out, if your parents didn’t come back for you.

If they never came back.

Like Kylie said, absolute abandonment.

Your hands tightened around the edge of the table. You felt the tears before you even realized they were falling, hot and stupid, sliding down your cheeks no matter how hard you clenched your jaw. You wiped them away fast, tried to act casual about it, like it was just dust or something in your eye.

But you knew they saw. You could feel them watching you, reading every little crack.

“So, small fry,” Legs said, tapping your hand with the back of her spoon. “How old are ya?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m… eighteen.”

Gen groaned dramatically and flopped her head against Kylie’s shoulder. “Damn it. I’m still the youngest.”

Kylie laughed and pressed a kiss to Gen’s forehead, leaving a soft pink mark between her brows. She reached up and began braiding Gen’s ginger hair, careful and slow, fingers nimble. Gen leaned into her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was a weird sight. Sweet, almost, but in a way that made your chest ache.

They kissed again, quick, on the lips, before Chip jabbed Gen in the side and jerked her chin toward the patrolling nuns. They were circling like vultures, their eyes hard, scanning the room for signs of disobedience.

You didn’t miss the way their gazes lingered on Kylie and Gen a little longer than necessary.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, scratching at your neck where the collar of the dress bit into your skin. The material was thick, rough, like wearing a sack. The metal bracelet on your wrist dug in every time you moved. Everything about this place was designed to make you feel it, the fact that you were no longer a person, but a thing.

You tugged at the sleeve irritably. “D-do we have to wear these?” you asked, voice tight. You hated the feel of it. Hated the thought of strangers dressing you while you were unconscious. Hated this second-hand underwear that felt alien against your skin.

“Yep,” Legs said, lounging back like she couldn’t care less. “You’ll get used to it.”

You swallowed down a sharp retort. I don’t want to get used to it.

You wanted your own clothes. Jeans. T-shirts. Soft cotton sweaters that smelled like home. Not this, not these shapeless uniforms and thick socks and hard, ugly shoes.

Legs shrugged. “At least you don’t have to waste time picking outfits every morning. No stress.”

You wanted to laugh. Wanted to scream. You wanted your own fucking underwear, not this scratchy, nameless uniform life.

Across the table, Gen giggled and pressed closer to Kylie, who was still methodically parting her hair with the practiced ease of someone who’d done it a hundred times. Kylie’s fingers were gentle, steady. It was intimate in a way that made something deep in your chest twist uncomfortably, part jealousy, part longing.

You didn’t want to admit it, but some part of you ached for that, for someone to look after you, to fix your hair, to kiss your forehead like it meant something.

You hadn’t earned that here. You hadn’t earned anything yet.

“Why don’t you have a nickname?” you asked Kylie, genuinely curious now. All the others had them, Legs, Chip, Gen, Pepper, but Kylie stood out. She didn’t seem to need a nickname.

Kylie smiled lazily, like she got asked that a lot. She stretched her long fingers in front of her, flexing them slowly.

“Kylie is my nickname,” she said, voice soft but amused. “Real name’s Tamika. But…” she leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper as a nun passed by, “I used to be obsessed with reality TV. Kardashians, TLC, Beta Bachelorette, Fourteen Litters and Counting, all that shit. Thought if I had to be stuck in a cage, might as well sound glamorous, right?”

She wiggled her fingers at you, and only now did you notice, her nails weren’t just clean, they were painted a deep, glossy blue. The polish was chipped in places, but it gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

You blinked. They weren’t allowed to have that. You were sure of it.

Kylie grinned wider at your expression and quickly tucked her hands out of sight before the nun could double back.

It hit you, how small her rebellion was, and how big it probably felt.

You could feel it, simmering under the easy grins and half-laughs, a rage so old it had calcified into something sharper, colder. The other Omegas around you, Legs, Chip, Gen, Kylie, even Pepper, they were smiling, joking, but it was a brittle thing, stretched too thin to be real.

And when you looked closer, really looked, you could see it.

Hate.

It burned in their eyes, in the tightness of their jaws, in the way they never let their backs fully face the room, always turned just enough to see who was watching.

Legs leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper that barely travelled across the table. “Don’t trust the nurses. Or the doctors. Or the Sisters.” Her mouth curled in something too bitter to be a smile. “They act nice, all honey and sweet tea, but it’s bullshit. Depending on your ‘care plan’…”, she threw the words out like a curse, “…you’ll find out real quick what kind of school this actually is.”

You thought back to the glimpse you’d gotten out the window earlier. The fence. So high it blotted out the sky. The ugly twist of barbed wire glittering in the sun like jagged teeth. The sheer permanence of it.

This was a place designed to break you down into something compliant, manageable. To grind the dangerous parts of you, your will, your anger, your hope, into dust.

You swallowed thickly, your mouth dry. “So… Legs stands for... ?”

You dragged the question out, half-hoping it was just a dumb nickname story. Something stupid, something human.

Chip snorted and jerked her thumb sideways at Legs. “We call Lacey Legs because she’s the fastest thing in this dump.”

Legs preened under the attention, running a hand over her corn-yellow slicked back bun, like a cocky athlete.

“She’s gotten out,” Chip added casually.

You blinked, feeling a sharp twist of hope, of possibility. “Out?” you breathed. “You mean, out, out? Past the fence?”

No one could get past that. Right?

Legs chuckled, low and self-satisfied. “Escaped and caught,” she clarified, flashing a grin that showed off a chipped tooth.

“Eleven goddamn times,” Pepper added with a snort, her toothpick bobbing between her teeth. She shook her head, the ghost of a smile on her scarred face. “All to see some dumb fucking Alpha locked up in Portia’s Penitentiary for Male Adolescent Alphas.”

You gawked, your mind spinning. You hadn’t even known there was a place like that, an institution for Alphas.

An Alpha facility.

Somehow, the idea chilled you worse than the fence.

What if you hadn’t tested Omega? What if you’d tested Alpha, would you have been sent to Portia’s instead? Would you have been locked away all the same, shoved into some other cold, dead-end place because your parents couldn’t deal with the hormones, the expectations, the danger you supposedly posed?

You heard yourself mumble, barely above a whisper, “I didn’t know Alphas had institutions too…”

“They don’t call it an institution,” Kylie said, her voice soft but edged with something grim. “They call it rehabilitation. They lock the boys up when they get too… rough. Too dangerous.” She stirred her porridge idly, not bothering to eat it. “Mostly it’s the ones who couldn’t control themselves during their ruts. Boys who snapped, who attacked someone, who… didn’t respond to the over-the-counter suppressants.”

You swallowed hard, nausea creeping up the back of your throat.

“They’re immune,” Kylie said, looking up at you with a calm that made it worse. “Some of them, anyway. Suppressants don’t work on every Alpha. Some are born too strong for that.”

You shivered, picturing it, a boy barely older than you, locked away because his biology made him a threat no one wanted to manage.

“Except Tom!” Legs chimed in brightly, slapping the table like this was just some gossip to pass the time. “Tom never hurt anybody.”

She beamed, proud. “He just, y’know…” she waved her hand vaguely, “gets really horny. Like, crazy horny.”

Chip snorted and stuck out her tongue. “Nasty slut,” she teased, grinning at Legs with something like real fondness.

Legs just laughed, unbothered. “Don’t judge me bitch. Some of us get an itch that can’t be scratched.”

The words were light, but the weight behind them wasn’t.

"Lesbianism aint on the table like you others," she smiled, "I prefer a bit of dick in my honey pot."

You glanced at Legs again, at the faint, pale lines across her forearms. At the tired sag of her eyes, the restless twitch in her fingers.

It wasn’t a joke.

None of this was.

The joke was the system, the idea that Saint Selene’s was a school. That Portia’s was rehabilitation. That any of you were here because you needed help.

The truth was sharper, meaner.

You were here because you were inconvenient.

Because you didn’t fit neatly into the world outside.

And the longer you sat at this table, the more you realized that none of the rules, none of the words they used, school, camp, correction, none of it was real.

What was real was the fence. The cold floors. The heavy, shapeless dresses. The taste of porridge that stuck like cement to your tongue.

What was real was the bracelet on your wrist, the cold metal biting into your skin, your name and your blood status etched into it like a brand.

What was real was the way they smiled when they said, absolute abandonment.

“Girls!” befell a booming tone, a deep solemn voice that had the hairs on the back of your neck rising, “I hope I’m not hearing foul language being said in front of our new resident.” Prisoner. Not resident.

His thick hand curled onto of her shoulder, heavy and solidly threatening. You bit your lip.

Don’t interact.

“Hey Doc H!” Legs laughed “Nah,” and threw him a low high-five, she wiped her nose and shrugged while she warranted, “We’re just laying down the rules to the new girl…like uh....curfew…”

C-curfew?!

“Oh really?” he hummed staring at you. You avoided eye contact and slowly scraped your spoon through your empty bowl.

“Yeah, good ol’ eight o’clock curfew for a four o’clock rise.”

You froze. The doctor laughed his head tilting back a slight.

Four o’clock? What the fuck is this place, the military?! This is undoubtedly a prison, help!

“And how’s our new resident feeling?” he asked, smiling down at you. His fingers plucked up the empty bowl and spoon you were fiddling with.

You turned your head up and held him in a might glare, your viperous tongue spat “How every girl feels being forced into an asylum without her consent,” you forced a smile, “trapped and imprisoned.”

His smile did not falter and that was something powerful…it stabbed you in the chest. He was not easily tempted to anger? Maybe you would have to find another pen, you thought wickedly…

He blinked and nodded slowly, that sickening, stomach dropping grin still on his face.

The silence was cold and the other girls shared side glances, even the other tables fell quieter to listen in.

“Docter, what have you been up to lately,” Pepper commented brightly, the layer of dimmed joy grew back, “We haven’t seen you for so long, weeks!”

“Yeah, well I’m happy to tell you that I’ll be hanging around you more often. Oh and I got you something,” he bent down and whispered, “but I’ll give them to you tonight before lights out.”

He said something into Pepper’s ear secretly and unheard. It left a giant smile stretched onto her lips. Like the cat that got the cream. He winked back at you and softly walked down to the table with other authority figures like the nuns.

While you watched him shake hands with other doctors at the table, you leant back in you chair with a relieved sigh, “Finally,”

“What’s wrong,” Legs murmured, “You and Doc H got bad chemistry or something?”

“He’s the asshole that put me here…” you hissed through your teeth.

All their eyes widened and they started laughing at you.

“If he’s just an asshole, god help us from the other nurses and doctors, feral dogs they are. The Doc is doing his job but at least he makes time to make us feel human instead of just ‘Omega breeding stock and future wives’. Sure...you can’t trust any of the doctors in here, but he’s the least threatening.”

Threatening?!

Suddenly a whistle blew, it was ear splitting. Within seconds everyone was picking up their bowls and standing up, walking from their tables. Shoving away from the table the five girls of the group rose from their seats.

“C’mon,” you felt Legs tap your arm, “grubs over,” she grinned, “how’s your skills at washing clothes?”

You timidly followed the other girls to rows of buckets where the dishes were discarded. You had no choice but to trust these girls. You stuck close beside Legs.

“It’s not that hard,” you finally smiled, “You just throw it into the washing machine and then the dryer.”

But when your new found friends started to all laugh together you felt a wind of dread…were they not washing clothes?

☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤

The air was thick with steam, a damp suffocation that clung to skin and soaked into bone. It wasn’t just hot, it was wet and heavy, seeping into every pore, every breath, until it felt like the weight of the room itself was pressing you down.

The narrow windows, caked with grime and only cracked open a fraction, offered no escape. The vapor curled upward, ghostly tendrils slipping through the rotting slats in the walls, like the last desperate gasps of something dying. Overhead, the wooden beams sagged with the accumulated damp, dripping fat beads of condensation onto the squalid floor.

Everywhere, the hiss of hot water and the sloshing of soaked fabric.

The laundry room, or what passed for it, was a cavernous tomb of labor. Huge industrial basins, crude and rusting, filled the space like sunken graves, each brimming with water so hot it scalded on contact. Drenched bedsheets, stiff uniforms, and threadbare undergarments floated like drowned bodies, waiting to be purged of stains that clung as stubbornly as the sweat on your back.

Wooden dolly sticks, crude implements that looked more like instruments of punishment than tools, were plunged into the water, churning the sodden cloth with a force that quickly drained the strength from your arms. They were heavy, grotesquely heavy, weighted with swollen wood and years of use, and they demanded obedience from muscles not yet hardened by the system.

It wasn’t laundering.

It was breaking.

Already your hands, once soft, once human, were blistered and raw. Angry welts rose beneath the skin where the wood rubbed mercilessly. When the first blister burst, the searing pain shot through you like a live wire, and before you could stop yourself, you barked in fury.

“Ugh, motherfucker!”

Your voice cracked against the oppressive heat, a whip crack in the heavy silence.

The nuns didn’t move at first, but you heard the clinking of keys, a low, metallic jingle that sounded almost casual, almost lazy. But you knew better. It was the sound of power, worn on their hips like weapons.

One of them, seated in her throne-like chair, black habit soaked dark with the heat, unfolded her thin arms and tilted her head.

“Is something wrong, ______?” she asked, voice as patient as it was laced with threat.

You turned, chest heaving, fingers still clutching the dolly stick so tightly your knuckles whitened. You wanted to spit. Instead, you let the stick fall with a loud clatter, the splash soaking your legs to the knees.

“Yeah,” you growled, crossing your arms, daring her with your eyes. “This is fucking slave labor.”

Around you, the other girls froze, their tired arms stilling, the wet slap of cloth against wood ceasing. The room hushed in a collective breath.

You jerked your chin up, scanning their worn, slack faces. “What’s next?” you sneered. “Cotton picking?”

A gasp. A collective flinch.

An older nun, the one they all feared, her girth matched only by the red flush in her jowls, pushed herself up from her chair with a grunt of exertion. She waddled forward, the Divine Moon pendant on her chest swaying like a pendulum of judgment.

“Miss ______,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to sting. “I would insist you curb that filthy mouth of yours. Language like that, ” She paused to tap the tub’s edge with the rounded toe of her thick shoe. “This is unbecoming of your position.” she gestured around with a disgusted sneer, “This is standard Omega training. You ought to be grateful, your parents sent you to the finest facility.”

Grateful.

The word struck you like a slap.

The hag leaned closer, her breath foul with stale tea and the sourness of old bitterness, and jabbed a thick, stubby finger into your chest.

You reacted on instinct, fast, violent. You slapped her hand away, your palm cracking against her skin with a sharp pop.

A beat of stunned silence.

You bared your teeth. “Just because my chromosomes got fucked doesn’t mean I’m some glorified laundry maid. When I leave this shithole, I’ll pay someone to do this. Like normal people do. Real people.”

A ripple of gasps and scandalized whispers filled the room like a rising tide.

“Bad Omega.”

“Disrespectful.”

“Dirty.”

“Lazy Omega.”

“No one wants an Omega like her.”

The words cut through you, jagged and ugly. From the corner of your eye, you saw Legs, glancing nervously between you and the others. Her mouth was tight, apologetic, but she said nothing.

None of them did.

The sting of betrayal burned hotter than the water.

You didn’t cry. Wouldn’t.

Instead, you ground your teeth together until your jaw ached and tightened your fists until your nails bit into your palms.

The old nun smirked, a hideous twist of cracked lips and false benevolence.

“I will not tolerate disobedience,” she hissed, stepping back. “If you’re too proud to work, Miss ______, then you will serve your sentence elsewhere.” She turned to the others, raising her voice for effect. “Hall duty,” she barked.

Across the room, Chip shook her head subtly, mouthing a frantic no.

You hesitated.

Hall duty, how bad could it be? Guarding corridors? Watching for wandering girls?

It sounded like a blessing compared to this sweatshop nightmare.

You smirked, folding your arms again with a false casualness. “Anything but this.”

You didn't miss the glint in the nun’s eyes as she smiled.

Predatory.

Triumphant.

But you didn’t care.

You thought you were getting away.

You didn’t realize, yet, that in this place, punishment wasn’t about what they made you do.

It was about what they made you become.

[mydearzero]

Unstoppable Force | Omegaverse Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader

Summary: He hadn't had his rut in YEARS. You took suppressants. Some manipulation from Val made sure both those things would change.

Contents: SMUT, mild dubcon, Omegaverse, fem!reader, Alpha!Bob, Omega!Reader, No Y/N, thunderbolts!reader, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding, designations aren't obvious until rut/heat, creampie, light possessiveness, if I missed any tags let me know!

WC: 4.6K

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Masterlist

A/N: I still have Bob brainrot and was thinking about a A/B/O fic and couldn't find any so I wrote it. I've never written A/B/O before so yeah do with that what you will. had to hold myself back from using the phrase 'lost in the sauce' so be glad that's not in the middle of the smut y'all

“I’m not sure I understand,” you let Valentina know. “How is this going to improve my fighting?” She took back the folder she’d slid to you across the table. 

“It’s just some testing, nothing more. Now if you’ll just come with me, I’ll go get us some more drinks. We’ll discuss the details later.” Val said as she picked up the cup she’d handed you earlier. Whatever it had been, it had been sweeter than you preferred. 

“I’m good, thanks. Where are we going?” You politely declined another drink. You walked through a hallway with no windows, no doors, except for the one all the way at the end. Val entered a code into the keypad and held the door open. 

“Just wait in here, I’ll be right back.” 

Your eyebrows raised when you walked into the room. It looked nothing like a meeting room, or a laboratory, for that matter. A large mirror was hung on the back wall. The door closed behind you suddenly. The echo startled you out of your focused assessment of the room. A door on the other side opened, and the hairs on the back of your neck immediately stood up. 

Alpha. 

The smell was blinding, almost making you want to hunch in on yourself. It was natural for it to overtake all of your thoughts, yet it surprised you how much it made you pause in your tracks. Whoever it was smelled phenomenal. You slowly backed away, making sure that whatever you did, you didn’t run. Your back met with the door and you grasped for the handle blindly, twisting it, only to find it locked. You cannot be serious. 

“Val?!” You questioned loudly, sure by now the room was being surveilled. She’d tricked you. To do what, you weren’t sure yet. You shouldn’t have trusted her. Shouldn’t have let your guard down, even for a second. 

Your eyes finally caught what your nose had already told you, hunched in the doorway. Bob? He wasn’t an Alpha, right? He was a Beta, Yelena had told you herself. Was there someone else behind him? There must be. You tried to look around him, but suddenly his frame looked broader than you’d ever recalled it being. 

“Bob? What’s going on?” You questioned. His eyes snapped to yours. He looked just as alarmed to see you as you felt. 

“You can’t be serious!” Bob yelled out to nobody in particular, banging on the door that had closed behind him, presumably also locked. “You can’t do this to her!” 

His breathing was irregular as he spoke your name. “You need to stay back. Just– Just stay there, on that side of the room. I’ll stay here and we’ll wait it out.” He hunched in on himself and crouched into the corner furthest from you, behind a lavish bed. 

This wasn’t research. You still didn’t understand what Val was up to, but this couldn’t be good. 

“Bob, please tell me what we’re doing in here,” you pleaded softly, though you did as he said and followed his example, hunching in the opposite corner. 

“They can’t do this to you,” he mumbled. “It’s not fair.” 

“You’re scaring me,” you whispered. He scoffed a laugh. 

“Good. You should be,” he refused to look at you, turning his face into the wall. All this time, the looming scent of Alpha hadn’t left the room. It was messing with your ability to think. 

“You’re a Beta, right?” You searched for any change in his body language for an answer. His spine stiffened. 

“... Right?” You begged. You already knew the answer. All these months in the tower, it had somehow slipped past all of you that Bob was, in fact, an Alpha. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “This– It wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t know you’d be here!” 

“What is this place?” You looked around the room, trying to spot a way out. It was hard to think critically when every nerve in your body was starting to scream at you to go over to Bob.

“It’s… hard to explain. Just… Stop talking, please,” he cupped his hands over his ears. 

“I’ll stop talking when I understand what the hell is going on!” You were getting frustrated with him. You were scared. Your stomach turned as your fingers began to tingle. You brought your hands up to your lips, remembering the drink Valentina had given you. She hadn’t drank any herself. Fuck, how could you be that stupid? 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he repeated. 

“What wasn’t supposed to happen, Bob?” He gasped softly at the mention of his name. 

“Don’t– Don’t say that. Don’t say my name.” He demanded. You raised your hands in mock defense. 

“You have to understand,” he started. “They said they were going to help me. They promised.” He averted his attention from the wall to the ceiling. 

“This is cruel!” He yelled at the ceiling. “You don’t know what’s gonna happen! What I– What he might do to her!” Did he? Did he know what was going to happen? He obviously knew something, knew more than you.

You saw him slump against the wall, roughly hitting his head against it. He turned, finally making eye contact. You drew in a sharp breath. His eyes were flickering gold, the way they only did when he was using his powers. This wasn’t right. He had been working on controlling it for months now. 

“It’s been years. They– They said they’d help me,” he ran a shaky hand over his face, laughing at his own past stupidity. “I should’ve known they’d pull something like this.” 

“You have to tell me what’s happening. Fucking spit it out already,” you demanded. 

“I haven’t had a rut in over 15 years,” Bob informed you. “But I’m having my first one right now.” 

Fuck. 

No no no no no no no no no NO– 

“You– Right now?” 

“Right now.” Bob nodded. 

You had to get out of here. It’s not that you didn’t want Bob. Quite the opposite, actually. But he wasn’t going to be in his right mind. God, you should’ve known the second you smelled an Alpha that you were in trouble. Actually smelling someone’s designation could only mean two things; either they were experiencing very extreme emotions, or they were nearing a rut/heat. You couldn’t think about the smell. Couldn’t let it get to you, or it would trigger your heat. 

“I’m assuming you’re an Omega?” Bob distracted you from your thoughts. 

“Yeah… I didn’t think it mattered!” You cried. “I’ve been on suppressants for forever. I haven’t had my heat in like… God, 5 years? Maybe 6? Val said they were just going to do some testing with my new suit… I should never have trusted her.” 

“I think I’m going insane,” Bob laughed maniacally. “It’s like I can smell you. But that’s impossible if you’re taking suppressants.” 

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, actually,” you winced. “She gave me a drink. Didn’t think anything of it because apparently I’m an idiot.” 

“She spiked it with something?” His breathing was getting more and more laboured. He was realizing by now that you had been set up, too. This was all an elaborate scheme. 

You shrugged. “I guess we’ll be finding out real soon if she did, and with what.” 

Bob turned his back to you, back facing the wall. You could tell from the heaving of his shoulders that he was breathing heavily. He was trying his best to stay in control. 

You, too, felt like you were slowly but surely losing your mind. Whatever Val had given you was working fast. You could feel sweat build up on the back of your neck. You were tempted to take off your clothes, but were sure that wouldn’t exactly make the situation any easier for Bob. You could deal with the temperature, as long as he stayed away and didn’t trigger your heat. 

It had been so long you’d had one, and even when you did, you’d never spent it with an Alpha. A rutting Alpha? Even better. No. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about his rut. Don’t think about what he could be thinking about. Don’t think about what he could do to you. Don’t think about his knot. 

Shit. 

You were definitely thinking about his knot, now. 

So what if you’d been harbouring a secret crush on him for months? It had been harmless, up until now. He was relying on you to control yourself, and you were messing that part up real fast. 

The temperature was rising quickly. The room was too small for an Alpha experiencing his rut, especially with an unmated Omega so nearby. You untied your shoes, trying to find the best way to cool down without setting him off. You put your socks in your shoes. It helped for about 0.3 seconds. 

A familiar feeling was starting to build in your stomach. It wasn’t discomfort, exactly. Dissatisfaction. An itch. A need. 

You tried to hold it in. You really did. His scent was so overwhelming. That combined with the fact that your system had been flushed clear of all suppressants for the first time in years? You were fucked. 

A soft whisper of your name rang from the other side of the room. It sent a shiver up your spine. You understood, now, why he’d begged you not to say his name. It was like he was speaking directly to the part of you that was holding up your reserve, and crumbling it. 

“Hmm?” You acknowledged painfully. 

“How… How are you feeling?” Bob asked quietly. He’d likely smelled it already. The desperation. His rut had triggered your heat. Neither of you were going to be able to hold back. 

“Like I’m slowly burning from the inside, but other than that, peachy,” you replied sarcastically, bringing your hand to your forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat. 

“I don’t know– I don’t know how much longer I can control this. It’s been so long…” He didn’t dare turn around. Maybe you should turn your back to him, too. Maybe then it was easier to keep your mind off him. You decided to give it a try. The second you tore your eyes off him, you felt a dire need to put them back on him. You resisted, for now. 

You heard the ruffling of fabric. You were so tempted to turn around. The heat was getting to him. He’d taken off his sweater and let out a small sigh of relief. It sounded downright pornographic, though you were sure any sound he made at this point would sound like that to your ears. 

You decided that, since neither of you were looking, it couldn’t hurt to take your shirt off as well. You grabbed it by the hem and lifted it over your head, leaving you in your bra and pants. The air was a lot colder, bringing goosebumps and relief to your skin. You discarded the shirt somewhere behind you. 

The smallest of whimpers escaped your lips. It was really starting now. A trickle of slick escaped your core, and you knew he could smell it. Your senses were overwhelming you, telling you to rip all your (and his) clothes off and just get it over with. You couldn’t give in. Not with whatever Val had been planning to happen. 

“Bob?” He moaned obscenely at the mention of his name. He acknowledged your questioning tone with a small groan. 

“I– I just think I should tell you something, before…” you didn’t have to finish the sentence. 

“What is it?” He grunted. The sound of a zipper opening made you freeze in your tracks. Was he…? 

“I– these last few months… I just– I’m not sure how to say this,” you started. You just wanted to reassure him it was okay if he broke. You wanted him, regardless. It was okay to lose control. You knew he’d already smelled your pussy from across the room, yet still felt like a schoolgirl about to admit her crush. 

“It’s okay… If you, y’know. I– I like you, Bob,” more rustling from the other side of the room. You were fighting with every fibre in your body not to turn around. 

“You’re just saying that,” he gasped out. “Because of the– the heat.” You could hear him moving. The sound was slick, though ever so silently. He was touching himself. 

“I’m not! I like you. I do,” you were squirming, trying to find a position that would alleviate the building pressure in your abdomen. You rolled your shoulders, the tension in your neck was killing you. All you wanted to do is throw your head back and expose your neck for him. 

The slick movement was increasing in speed. He sounded delicious, even though he was obviously trying to contain all the small moans and whimpers. Whether it was to spare you the need or himself the embarrassment, you were unsure. 

“Are you,” you bit your lip. “Are you touching yourself?” 

“Yeah,” he groaned out. “‘M sorry… I can’t– It’s, fuck, just– Stop talking.” 

“It’s okay,” you were surprised by the sensual tone of your voice, barely above a whisper. 

“Stop. Talking,” you could tell he was close. His laboured breath was something you wished to feel against your skin. You slowly snuck a hand into your waistband, no longer able to control yourself. You gasped when your finger made contact with your clit. 

“Fuck, no, are you? Oh fuck,” Bob immediately groaned loudly, immediately coming at the thought of you touching yourself to the sound of him doing the same. He held the base of his cock tightly, refusing to pop a knot right then and there. Coming inside of his boxers was bad enough. 

You took your pants off, no longer content with it limiting your range of movement. Had all your previous heats felt like this? You couldn’t remember ever feeling this out of control, this insane. Fucking hell, you could smell his cum. He really wasn’t helping the situation right now. 

“Do you feel better?” You asked. An orgasm usually helped keep the hormones at bay, even if it was only for a few minutes. 

“No, I hoped I would but I–” He clenched his teeth tightly. You circled your clit with two fingers, willing your hips to keep still as to not obscenely go and fuck your own hand. 

You knew you made a mistake the second your resolve broke and you sent a glance over your shoulder to look at him. He’d been able to control his need to turn around, still facing the wall. It didn’t matter. His sweaty, naked form, heaving from his orgasm, was enough to enthrall you. He instantly noticed you’d gone silent. Worried for your wellbeing, he slowly turned around, meeting your hungry gaze. 

Something snapped. He flung his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. The force had cracked the concrete on impact. He groaned loudly, every muscle straining, fighting to keep his hands off you. Your parted lips, wide eyes, undressed form, it was his undoing. 

The sight of him losing control was enough to send you over the edge. A high pitched whine escaped your lips, your toes curling. His eyes snapped open, lips parting at the display. He was on your body before either of you could blink. His powers were taking over. He pinned your arms above your head, to the floor. While you were only in your underwear, his pants had yet to leave his body. 

“I’m sorry it has to be like this,” he spoke, scanning your face. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him again, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “I want you. Wanted you long before today.” 

He released your wrists and brought a hand to your cheek, softly caressing it and taking you in for a moment. He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe you wanted him. 

“I’m not gonna be able to stop,” Bob confessed. You flung your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You leaned into his ear to speak, feeling his hot breath on your neck. 

“Then don’t.” 

It was enough. He kissed you hungrily, bringing your body as close to his as it could go. He tasted every bit as good as he smelled. His hands made quick work of your bra and underwear. Your head whirled as your back suddenly met the soft mattress. His powers. He was so fast. So strong. The bed swallowed you. 

He was biting at your lips, nipping at the skin of your jaw. The only way you could explain it was feral. You put your hands on the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down. The zipper was still open from his previous endeavours.  “Off,” you demanded between kisses. He shimmied them off while maintaining contact with his mouth to your skin at all times. 

“Never would’ve guessed,” you breathed as he worked his mouth down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking harshly. “–that you were an Alpha.” 

“What, I’m not imposing enough?” He laughed, making eye contact and switching to the other nipple. There was a big, noticeable wet patch in his underwear from where he’d come in them before. He quickly shimmied out of those, too. His cock slammed up against his abdomen, already hard again and ready to go. God, he was big. 

“Hmmm, you’re too sweet,” you told him. It was true. He always made an extra cup of tea so you could have one. Did the laundry for the others. Made sure everybody’s favourite snacks were at the tower at all times. He was just so thoughtful. 

“Wanna take care of you,” he came back up, having spent enough attention on your breasts, for now. “Is that not an Alpha thing?” 

“Now that you mention it…” He did have a point. An Alpha took care of their people. All the things he did so the team was at their best was exactly that. You tugged him back down to smash your lips against his again. You could spend eternity like this. You were going to get addicted to kissing him. 

You trailed your hands down his chest, over his tight abdomen. “Can’t even begin to tell you how hot I think you are,” you informed him. His eyebrows shot up. 

“Really?” He started kissing dangerously close to your mating glands. The feeling of anticipation was killing you. You craned your neck to the side instinctively, giving him more access. The feeling burned, in a good way. 

A new wave of desperation washed over you. It was starting to hurt, your eyes blurring with tears as you tried to work through the burn. Bob noticed something was off, pulling away for a second to check on you. While noble, it only made the feeling worse. 

“You okay?” He asked, eyes scanning your face for any discomfort. Like a good Alpha. 

“It– It hurts, Bob,” you whined. “Please, make it stop.” 

“I’ll make it stop. I’ll help you, baby,” he whispered, bending back down to suck a hickey over your mating gland. A promise. He ground his hips down, sliding his cock between your wet folds. The contact made both of you moan. Bob’s jaw fell slack as he closed his eyes, throwing his head back. 

“Fuck me, Bob,” you put your hands on his shoulders. “Need you inside of me.” 

“Look so good like this,” Bob mumbled as he took his length in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance. You prepared yourself mentally for the stretch. He shuddered as he slowly pushed his tip inside, spreading you open. It notched inside and he paused for a second, checking to see if you were okay. 

You were more than okay, lost in your heat, desperate to get him deeper. You gave him a small nod, signalling for him to please continue pushing inside. The stretch felt amazing. If you had ever doubted his Alpha status, the feeling of his girth inside you would’ve changed your mind. You were so full. He still wasn’t all the way inside, going torturously slow. 

When he finally bottomed out, you stopped breathing. Bob’s eyes snapped closed, mouth agape as the pleasure of feeling you around him overtook his senses. A sense of satisfaction settled in your body. The fact you were finally giving in, finally letting yourself be filled by an Alpha during your heat, was a taste of something you wouldn’t ever get enough of. You almost felt complete. There were only 2 things missing;

A knot, and his teeth biting your neck. 

“M-move, now,” you demanded. He obliged, dragging his hips back gently. When he snapped them forward again, you couldn’t hold back a moan. 

“That’s it,” Bob nuzzled your neck, pulling his cock out and snapping forward faster this time. Your exorbitant amount of slick made the slide much easier. If this would become a recurring thing, you weren’t sure you’d even be able to take him outside of your heat. 

“Gonna make you mine,” he groaned. “Nobody else can have you.” Another gleam of gold flashed through his eyes. God, you sure hoped Val was prepared for Sentry to make an appearance, because it was looking like that might be the case by the end of this.

“Already yours,” you sighed. “Always have been.” 

“Say it again,” he pleaded. “Say you’re mine.” 

He probably hadn’t intended for it to be an Alpha command. It had just slipped out. 

“I’m yours– All yours. Only you,” you whimpered out, unable to resist the command even if you’d wanted to. It had sent a new rush of heat spreading through your body. A newfound sense of need settled in your very being. You needed him closer, deeper, anything. You’d crawl into his skin if it were possible. 

You knew he felt it too, what the Alpha command had done to you. You’d tightened around him, clenching his cock tightly. A mischievous expression took over his face. His balls slapped against your cunt as he finally started fucking you the way you needed. Hard. Frantic. Feral. 

“Fuck, Bob!” You keened. He’d found that spot. You dug your nails into his back, desperate to keep him going exactly like that. “Don’t stop.” 

“So good for me,” Bob moaned. The way he chanted your name like a prayer was obscene. “All mine.” 

He dropped his head to your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and tonguing around it. He kneaded your other boob with his hand, rough enough to sting, but so, so good. 

“So pretty,” he babbled. He was losing his sanity to his rut. “You smell so good.” He was nuzzling your neck again, inhaling your scent deeply, committing it to his permanent memory. 

“It’s like you were made for me. So tight. Perfect fit,” Bob mused. You could feel it, too. The way he filled you exactly to the brim. Stretched you out just enough for you to feel so, so full. 

He pounded into you, but it wasn’t enough. “More, Alpha. Please,” you begged. Bob lost all sense of control at the title. 

“Such a good Omega for me,” he grazed his teeth over your mating gland. It sent your head reeling, dizzy with pleasure. 

“Please.” What you were begging for, you didn’t know. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Bob whispered with haggard breaths. He brushed your hair out of your face, cradling it in his hands as he continued his brutal pace, chasing both of your highs. 

You knew you were getting close, the knot in your stomach tightening. Bob grabbed your hips tight, snapping his hips forward. You were sure there’d be finger shaped bruises all over your body by morning, but you couldn’t find yourself to care. 

One of his hands worked itself between your bodies, seeking contact with your clit. Your head slammed back against the pillow, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Holy shit. 

“Ah, Bob- fuck, oh-” you sought anything to hold onto, settling on the sheets underneath your body. Your knuckles turned white as you held on tightly. Your jaw fell slack at the sensation. He was trying to make you come, and he was succeeding. 

“Come for me, O-Omega,” he moaned loudly. “Ah- Come on my cock.” His voice was faltering with the sheer effort he was putting into fucking you right. He was mesmerised at the sight of your tits bouncing wildly with the rhythm and force of his hips pounding into yours.

“Knot me,” you begged. You needed it. Needed it right now.

“‘F course I’ll knot you,” Bob reassured you. “Gonna fuck my cum inside you. Fill you up real good.” 

“Fuck, please.” The thought of him filling you up to the brim drove you insane with lust. “Alpha, please, knot me, knot me.” 

“So good for me, baby. Come for me,” his fingers sped up, circling your clit in tandem with his thrust. His hips were starting to falter, he was getting close. A tear rolled down the side of your face at the intensity. 

He bent down and bit down on your neck, exactly where you needed him to. You were screaming out his name, gripping his shoulders tight as you came on his cock. You shuddered, body tightening with your orgasm. Your vision went white as the bond settled in and connected your very being to him. Mates. 

Bob groaned loudly as his hips stuttered, filling you up with his cum. You could feel the base of his cock swell, stretching your entrance and locking you together. He ground his hips, now unable to pull out, but desperate to keep fucking more cum inside of you. 

He finally slumped over you, exhausted from the strain it had taken. He rolled over and pulled you on top of him. He placed a few soft kisses on your new mating mark. For a second, you rested just like that, still connected, chests heaving with deep breaths. Your mind was clearing of the fog brought on by the heat. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob whispered, stroking your hair softly as you laid your head on his chest. 

“Don’t be,” you picked your head up, looking him in the eyes. “I loved every second of it.” 

“I did too,” Bob smiled, but then it faltered. “I’m just… Valentina…” Right. That was the whole reason you’d ended up in this situation. 

“She’s probably looking for a way to replicate whatever they’ve done to you. Maybe she wants super babies,” you sighed. It was the only explanation you could think of. You felt his cock twitch inside you, making you gasp as another light spurt of cum came out of it. 

“Don’t– Don’t talk about us having babies while I’m still inside of you.” You laughed and clenched around him intentionally, making him hiss and throw his head back. 

The doors audibly unlocked, then. Bob quickly threw a blanket over your connected bodies. 

“Well, are you going to thank me, or what?” It was Val. Of course it was. 

“You better get the fuck out and leave us alone if you know what’s good for you,” Bob threatened. 

“Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you,” she grumbled, walking back out and closing the door behind her. 

“I’m gonna kill her,” you grumbled, laying your head back on his chest and drawing tracing shapes on his chest. 

“I’ll help you,” Bob agreed. You hated her, but at least you’d gotten a mate out of it. 

[invincibledc]

Imagine omegaverse!superson trio, the tallest of of all, WonderBoy!Reader aka Y/N Prince is surprisingly an omega while the other two are alphas.

Having to share the Amazon male, cute little puppy love as Jon always wraps his arm around the boy’s arm with Damian always giving small gifts to Prince. Spoiling the poor boy who hates this, he hates being an omega. But he hates to admit he loves being pampered.

Years later to the boys being older, Damian bought Jon and you promise rings. Jon ugly cried while you just smiled at it.

This was your life as an omega to your childhood lovers.

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader

Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!

When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.

As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Chapter 2: The Decision

Chapter 3: First Day

Chapter 4: Finding Your Place

Chapter 5: Unspoken Connections

Chapter 6: Unexpected Reactions

Chapter 7: Ripple Effect

Chapter 8: Rising Heat

Chapter 9: Breaking Point

Chapter 10: Unveiled

Chapter 11: Walls Fall Down

Chapter 12: Awakening

Chapter 13: Omega Eyes

Chapter 14: Recognition

Chapter 15: Overwhelming Need

Chapter 16: Instinct

Chapter 17: Breaking Point

Bonus: Alpha’s Downfall

Chapter 18: The Wooyoung Effect

Chapter 19: New Boundaries

Comment on this post to be added to the taglist!

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💜 Thank you all for the love on this! Please reblog and recommend this fic if you love it! I update every day or every other day!💜

[ambrosialdesire]

bloodsports

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ]

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: modern au!reiner x fem!reader word count: 13.6k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, explicit sexual content, unhealthy relationships, misogyny, public humiliation mentions, sorta an unbalanced power dynamic, a/b/o dynamics and themes, modern & college/university au, alpha & hockey player jock reiner (will be sorta ooc but ig you can count it as his s1-3 soldier persona), omega reader, enemies to sorta friends to enemies again to lovers (but both reiner and reader are stubborn dumdums and it's sorta one-sided), bertolt x reader implications, heavy jealousy/possessive themes, heavy self-sabotage, alcohol consumption, violence & blood warning, "fated" mates, usage of suppressants, unwarranted scenting, kinda scenting kink?, pheromone-bombing, size difference, size kink, noncon kissing, all characters are 18+ synopsis: trying to get through uni should've been easy, but presenting as an omega made you become a seemingly easy target for the many disgusting alphas that roamed the campus. no matter how much suppressants you took, you unfortunately just had to grab the attention of the most notorious one out there. the university's famed center in ice hockey, reiner braun. to you, he was nothing but a godforsaken, meatheaded annoyance. a/n: i am not one of god's strongest when comes to a/b/o or the omegaverse LMFAOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY IT, SUMN ABOUT IT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY FERAL AND IDC WHAT OTHERS THINK 👺👺 anywaysss, yea it's another hatefuck reiner fic that i decided recently to make a two parter LOL i made reiner a hockey player because i kinda like hockey more (i watched one game irl with my sibling and it was hella cool even tho the team we were cheering for lost 💀 the state pride was crazy, i had no idea how irritating it was hearing the other team fans cheer 😭) but i'm really really new to the sport so forgive me if i make some mistakes about it lol (i did modify it a little so it can be more dramatic and violent lol) happy valentine's day (ik this late AFFFFF LMFAO) and hope you guys enjoy this! the second part will hopefully come not too far behind, maybe in december once i'm freed from school haha note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

"You're coming to my game, right?"

The sudden weight on the table of someone leaning upon it on the other side caused it to creak, but you didn't have to look up to know who it was. The wafting smell of warm, spiced vanilla with vague, yet noticeable earthy tones wrapped around you like a familiar heated blanket. No matter how nice it smelled, it only bubbled irritation within you. You continued writing your notes, ignoring the looming presence.

"Omega, answer and look at me." A chill ran down your spine and your head felt heavy once he spoke, the demand stern and clear. You didn't want to answer him, but your secondary gender was scratching at your brain like a persistent fly. Answer him, answer your alpha.

You stubbornly pinched your leg once to get yourself out of it before finally looking up at the man himself, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Can't. Have finals tomorrow. Also, don't ever do that shit to me or call me that."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, already knowing he wasn't going to take that as an answer. "You weren't answering me and c'mon, it's only for a few hours babe. Who wouldn't come to their alpha's big game today?"

"Me because you're not my alpha and I'm not your babe. Go find some other omega that drools over you because this one isn't going." You grumbled as you stood up, beginning to collect your stuff to get back to your dorm. He grabbed your wrist before you got your notebook, pulling you towards him, eyes were gleaming with determination.

"Come to my game and I won't bother you anymore. I promise."

You pulled your arm out of his grasp with a frown, quickly debating in your mind. Could you trust him?

On one hand, it would be nice to not get disturbed by him anymore. But on the other, that means you have to be packed in a stadium with sweaty alphas and a handful of excitable betas and omegas for an hour or two. The smell would be awful and overwhelming, false ruts and heats would get triggered easily from the adrenaline. You didn't even like ice hockey or any sport in general, too many alphas dominated the industry.

You bit back a heavy sigh, finally deciding on your answer.

"Ugh. I'm holding you to that promise then Reiner. No randomly showing up at my dorm, no waiting for me at the end of my classes, don't have your friends try and check up on me for your behalf either. Got it?" His hazel eyes lit up immediately and he nodded, his smile wide.

"You got it babe, I'll pick you up at 6."

You were about to tell him off about the pet name but he ran off, whooping in the quiet library while slamming the doors open. A few of the students' and staffs' glares went over to you, causing you to grimace before finally picking up your notebook. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Life wasn't like this before. For a year and half, you've had an alpha cling onto your every move as if you've claimed one another. It may seem like that to him but you definitely didn't want anything to do with him. All Reiner did was bring a mix of trouble to you, a burden that you never wanted. Your secondary gender was supposed to be a hidden secret for only yourself to know — the prescribed supplements made sure of that — and you were supposed to present as a beta in order to live a peaceful university life. How painfully frustrating it was to be found out from a simple error in your day-to-day routine.

You were in a rush, you're human after all, and forgot to take them before you left your dorm. It wasn't until you entered your class when a brick of strong smells bitterly hit your nose, something that never happened before. One day and that's all it took for everyone's eyes to latch onto your frame, the horrifying hunger glimmering in the darks of their pupils.

You froze, unable to move from the doorway. The vileness of their stench rang alarms in your head, they were all sour and distasteful with every short whiff you took. It was overwhelming, heavy, and nauseating. You knew what they were all thinking, internally debating whether you should run back to your dorm or transfer.

A large arm had made its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to their body. You panicked at first until a whiff of something sweet in the air stopped you. A spiced vanilla enveloped your senses with every breath you took and like a switch, your body immediately calmed down, unintentionally leaning closer to them to continue feeling this sweet relief.

"Hey." You tilted your head up at the person who was currently holding you by the neck and felt dread quickly fill up your stomach once more.

Reiner Braun, one of the most notorious womanizers on campus and the university's proclaimed players in ice hockey.

Reiner Braun, smelling like a freshly baked pastry, slinging his arm around you while unintentionally managing to bring you back to your senses.

Reiner Braun, whose face is suddenly way too close and you could just barely feel the brush of his lips against yours.

Your face burned up at the realization and you shoved him off you, eyes wide and mouth parted open in shock as you watched him stumble back to reality. What the fuck just happened and why the fuck did he smell so good out of everyone here? He looked like he was appalled by what he did as well but recovered faster than you did, a sly smirk growing on his face.

"Hey omega, just a head's up. The next time you come to class, don't smell like a sweet treat for us alphas alright?"

You thought you couldn't burn up even more than before, your body beginning to tremble in complete rage and mortification as the students began to howl in amusement. All of your emotions were pumping through your system all at once way too quickly and you finally ran out of the class, tears brimming on the edges of your eyes. There was no way you could handle being in there for another second. The boisterous laughter faded away in your eardrums and once you got far enough from prying eyes and ears, you collapsed to the ground and nearly sobbed your heart out.

You knew attending this university would be difficult but never in your life did you think you'd be humiliated in this way, just for one stupid little mistake. To alphas, any mistake that wasn't from their pretentious clique meant your life, your downfall, everything. It becomes a weakness to exploit and use, like a deer with a broken leg completely surrounded by a pack of starving wolves.

All you could think about over and over as you finally made it to your dorm was:

Fuck Reiner Braun.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

After that day, you made sure to take your supplements on time with an alarm. Regardless of that, you still felt skittish once you stepped foot in that damn class again. Not because of the possibility that the knowing glances of your classmates would come your way, but the fact that Reiner would not leave you alone ever since he embarrassed you.

When you finally went back to that class in the next lecture, you placed yourself all the way in the back corner than your usual spot, trying to hide yourself away until everyone forgot about the incident. It seemed that your humiliating moment had faded away quickly like a passing breeze since no one looked your way as the seats began to fill up one by one. It was not until you heard the familiar laugh of him, only then you started getting nervous.

You stared down in your notebook, trying to look as busy as possible but the shuffle of a heavy bag and a body sitting down next to you in the loudest way possible confirmed your worst suspicions.

"Good thing you saved a seat for me, that’s so nice of you omega." Reiner congratulated you in a false manner and you grimaced, turning your head towards him. He wasn't looking at you but he was smiling as he looked to the front of the room. You had to force yourself not to stare at his body, which was a mental battle in itself when his pheromones were as strong as ever.

He most likely exercised before coming here, a faint sweat stain on the chest of his white cut-off tank top confirming your thoughts. The tank top was hiding little to the imagination, loose enough to where you can see his sculpted muscles from the side but tight enough to where it accentuated his chest. He was manspreading — a common occurrence in those who were considered to be extremely prideful alphas — and wearing dark gray sweatpants.

You didn't mean to but your gaze slightly wandered a little more down, heart nearly stopped in your chest when you just barely spotted the faint outline of his half-hard cock against the fabric. He was... big and if that was him barely aroused, wow. You'd pray for those that let this son-of-a-bitch hit another time.

The usually dormant annoyance in your brain wanted to get down on her knees and suck him off till he got hard in her mouth, but you had to viciously fight her back into the deep crevices of your mind. You don't know why the urge was so strong, the meds you took usually gave you no sexual desires towards anyone. Maybe you need to up the dosage? You'd have to make a doctor's appointment soon because you don't know if you could stand this new disgusting pervert inside you.

It would be the coldest day in Hell if you ever let Reiner fuck you.

"I have a name, use it or fuck off." You turned back to your notebook and he chuckled in amusement.

"You got a bite now omega? Where was she the last time we spoke?"

"Maybe she would've been there if she wasn't on the verge of a breakdown. Fucking asshole." You muttered the last bit, starting to ignore him once the professor finally entered the class. Cracking your knuckles and opening your laptop to the latest powerpoint, you began writing down the important points of what was in the week's module. It took you nearly half of the three hour long lecture to notice that he didn't make any sound, no writing or keyboard clacking or any tapping from his phone. Your peripherals just barely caught the sight of him and your skin ran cold.

Reiner wasn't paying attention to the lecture. You started to practically feel the absolute intensity of his stare, burning two deep holes into the side of your face. The chair lightly squeaked as he suddenly moved closer to you, the audible sound of him sniffing at you came after.

What the fuck was his problem? You quickly inched yourself away from him, backing into the wall but he followed suit almost immediately. His large frame nearly engulfed yours, the sheer heat of his body radiating off as he neared you.

He sniffed once above your head, then again and again as if he was searching for something. Thank God you decided to shower this morning. The tense atmosphere between the two of you grew thicker with each passing second until his hazel eyes narrowed, the corner of his mouth twitched in faint irritation.

"...You don't smell like anything." Reiner sourly muttered before pulling away, giving back the needed space.

"Uh... yeah? I got back on track with my meds." What was up with him? Reiner had never once spoken to you before the incident, in the class and out of it. In this class in particular, you've usually seen him on his phone, napping, or quietly chatting with the nearest poor soul.

He's known to not fool around with your kind, back when you were still portraying yourself as a beta. Why would he? To them, betas were boring and basic. They weren't alpha enough to be considered to be one of them and not omega enough to fuck. His preferences were pretty out there in whispers and giggles too, so it's not like he would need a reason to talk to you unless it was to get his dick wet for the night. That seemed to be the plan in mind since he was continuously interacting with you.

"Why would you?" Reiner nonchalantly questioned, as if he wasn't the one of the reasons why you take such heavy supplements. Your eye twitched, your fingers tightening around your pen.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" You scowled, watching him shrug and lean back onto the chair.

"Yeah, why not? You're the first omega I've met with a scent that's not doused in cheaply made perfume, it's..." He stopped, thinking of the right words before finally settling on one. "Original."

You scrunched your nose, conflicted with what he just described. He is the talk of the campus, most if not all omegas would've loved to be marked by him; no wonder they try to court him with different concoctions. Then again, he could just be saying that to get into your pants. Original, ha! If he liked this so-called originality, he should find it in someone else.

"I'm not interested y'know, not after what you did last time."

After you said that, all the words seemed to die in his mouth. He became quiet for the rest of the lecture and you didn't have the courage to look back up to see his expression. The silence was a simmering awkwardness, and you could only try and listen to the professor as much as you could. His smell was now twisted with a dullness to it, almost bland and distasteful like the rest of the room. When the lesson finally ended, you started to zip your bag close and pull it through your arms, until his hand grabbed the strap and lifted it up onto his own shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Panic bubbled in your chest as you tried to grab it back but he kept maneuvering out of your reach, a playful smile growing on his lips.

"Think of this as an apology to you omega. I'll walk you to your next class." Your heart dropped to your stomach, the last thing you needed was even more people staring at you, especially with the campus fuckboy in tow.

"You really don't have to and don't call me that." Reiner snorted as he walked down the stairs, you having no choice but to follow him.

"What else can I call you if you haven't told me your name yet?" He held the door open for you, readjusting the bags he was holding. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

"Why offer to walk me to my next class when I don't even know your name?" It was a lie, of course everyone knew him just by the simple utter of his name, but he laughed at your simple comeback, genuinely laughed. It didn't sound like it did when he poked fun of you that one day, your face starting to lightly flush warm.

"Fair enough. Name's Reiner, Reiner Braun. One of the University of Marley Warriors centers." You slightly cringed at the title, he just had to add that fact in. Oh well, might as well play along just a little.

"Y/N L/N, one of the many second year students in the University of Marley."

He laughed once more and nudged you on the back with his elbow, letting you take the lead.

"You're a funny girl Y/N."

You had to ignore the way your stomach fluttered from the way he said it, picking up your pace. Remember, you had to remember that he caused you a turmoil of anguish for a near week. All you were going to give him was this moment and that's it.

"Thanks."

Now that you think back on it, how silly it was for you to think that this was the last time he was ever going to talk to you.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

There wasn't a minute in your day where Reiner wasn't in your presence.

Nearly every day for roughly five or six months since you've started talking to one another, he'd manage to find you and socialize. He'd give you a small snack or drink too, ruffling your hair once you took it from his hand and sitting down in the seat next to you. Every day was a different topic that he asked, ranging from simple questions to a little more personal ones. You knew he was trying to pry whenever you didn’t say much about yourself so you've revealed only a few tidbits, nothing big. Sometimes he needed studying help and you didn't mind tutoring him about the subjects you were sorta knowledgeable in. He always seemed so interested and focused in whatever you say, so hey, at least he was a decent listener.

He started rejecting hang-outs with his friends and teammates, all to simply talk to you. It's crazy how often he did it, a few times occurring in front of you through phone calls. He'd only mentioned his teammates when he tried to invite you to numerous practices, implying that he wanted them to meet you. You turned him down about it for the first few times, creating excuses to not go, until you got tired of him asking and finally begrudgingly agreed.

Watching him practice made you realize one thing about him: Reiner loved to play dirty.

Of course since you were merely a new bystander of the sport, it might've been one of the core strategies of how to win in hockey. Yet the more you observed, the more you noticed how he treated everyone on the ice, friend or foe. He told you before that centers did a lot for their team and were known to be more on the offense, even when defending. You thought the role was perfect for him, considering how he started this whole "friendship" thing with you. However, the way he treated you was nothing compared to how he treated the sport.

It was like watching an illegal cage fight from the way he quickly sped towards the puck, viciously slamming into others to make way. A frightening sight indeed, maybe even more for the ones on the ice as they were the ones he barreled his shoulders into their chests and sides. You can't remember how many times you flinched watching an unfortunate player get rammed into the plastic barrier by Reiner, the heavy sound echoing throughout the stadium. Everyone on the opposing team was merely his punching bag and though they can get a few hits in, you could tell that they couldn't handle the constant confrontations. He didn't care that they were still his teammates and that this was merely a practice game. To lose is to lose and for an alpha, that could never be an option.

You never told him this, but you never liked the look in his eyes that he gets whenever he played, the darks of his pupils blowing out the once-warm hazel color with a carnal and exhilarated intensity within them.

Regardless of his violent attitude, Reiner genuinely worked well with his team, whomever was on his side at least. He especially got along with whoever jersey number 60 is — the only hint being that his last name is Hoover — and who was noticeably taller than anyone else on the team. The two were extremely compatible, making the smoothest passes that whenever you blinked, it would seem that the other had the puck in the first place.

The strangest part of it all was that he'd make you wear his jersey afterwards, that's also somewhat the reason why you stopped coming over to his practices besides the extreme harshness of the sport. It was way too intimate for him to be sharing a highly scented object to a friend but you've tried refusing, saying that you hated the stink and it was still wet with sweat. Reiner never really cared about what you said about it and pulled it over your head, the fabric hanging loosely mid-thigh. You hated how calm it made you feel and how every time he asked for it back, you'd hesitate.

Even if he did like you, you don't know why he was being overly friendly. Was it because you were an omega that he had to be nice to you? You tried not to think about it like that since you were slowly getting used to his presence, as if he became a part of your routine.

He never pushed anything sexual onto you either like you originally thought he was going to. Sure, he'd make a weird comment or joke here or there but it never really made you uncomfortable or escalated into something else. Your feelings towards him simmered down to a level of neutrality, not quite at peace from what he did but not as angry as before. Did he feel bad for his actions? He never really said an actual apology to you, but is that really why you still find him aggravating to be around with?

"You're such a study bug, don't you know how to have a little fun?" Reiner skimmed his fingers against the already-read pages, your bodies squished side-by-side, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist as the two of you read your textbook together. You don't know why or when but you started to not mind the physical contact with him anymore; you chalked it up to it being the winter months and you were cold as hell, he was basically the closest thing to a portable heater. Your physician upped the dosage of your meds as well and there was a noticeable difference, but it didn't seem to deter the thoughts you were having about Reiner. They probably would’ve faded away if not for his constant presence.

"I don't have time for fun, unlike you with your full-ride and sports." You muttered as you flipped the page, eyes skimming over the new paragraphs. He groaned and rested his head on top of yours, taking in a deep breath. You’ve noticed that he was more touchier with you compared to his other friends that you once watched from afar before, but you’ve gotten used to it for the past few months.

He was silent for a few pages until you could feel his fingers trail up against your scent gland, your body immediately freezing up. He shouldn’t be touching you there, a shiver going up your spine as you felt his fingertips rub light circles around it. You couldn’t stop him, not when your brain was currently being scrambled with the feeling.

"Your smell is still not there." He off-handily murmured, finally removing his hand from your neck and letting you collect your thoughts again.

You swallowed thickly, trying to clear your throat. "I think you forget that I take heavy suppressants."

"Why do you? Do you really not want to fuck anyone any time soon?" You cringed at his wording, meeting his eyes.

"Well yeah, pretty much. I want to focus on school, not constantly wonder if I'm going to suddenly go into heat around an alpha. And it's a guaranteed protection, I don't want to get accidentally marked this early in my life." You could feel his hand squeeze and knead at the meat of your hip, knowing that he was in thought.

"I don't know if our class remembers what sub-gender I am but you certainly do, you were literally in trance when you met me," You pointed out, feeling your skin prickle warm as you thought back on the memory. "And it was my mistake, I didn't mean to get off of them and do that to you. I'm pretty much protecting myself and others from doing something... irrational."

What he didn't know is that having no heat at all for months at a time had made you indescribably horny, but you've been managing it so well that you really didn't need any outside assistance at all. Him being the only alpha that hangs around you on a day-to-day basis and consistently touching you has not made the thoughts any better than they were before, but you forced those damn heinous ideas in the back of your mind every time. Bothersome they were and you tried to not let it get to you as much as possible.

Reiner nodded slowly, closing his eyes. "Well if you do get into a heat, I'm available for use."

You gasped, quickly jabbing your elbow into his side, causing him to flinch from the feeling and laugh almost aloud in the quiet library. "God, don't say that here!"

"It's true! There's a line-up of omegas that need help through their heats, I'm not the only one that's getting something out of it. They need a knot and I give it to them." You don't know why but hearing him admit that made you almost freeze and feel your stomach drop. Every time you're reminded of his reputation, something in you twists in an unpleasant way. It's strange. You have no reason to feel this way when you don't even like him in any romantic sense.

"I'd rather not hear about your many conquests, thank you very much." His eyes connected to yours and you tried not to pull away, trying not to feign anything that would give you up.

"Don't tell me... You're jealous, aren't you?" He teased as his grin grew wider and you scoffed, closing the textbook almost a little too hard.

"Please, as if! I'm not the one here insinuating into starting something." You huffed and tried to disconnect your body from his to put the book away but he didn't let you, his arm holding you around the crook of your back firmly.

"I never mark them, if that makes you feel better. No matter how much they beg me to, I don't. I'm pretty good at controlling myself."

You paused, the heavy stone in your stomach still dragging you down. He sounded honest about it and any omega that he marked would've bragged about it for years to come. Hell, you wouldn't even be as close as you were with him right now if that was the case. Yet, the admission didn't make you feel any better and you'd rather not praise him for something so bare minimum.

"...I really, really don't care Reiner. You can fuck anyone you want silly and it's none of my business. I'm not your mate and you're not mine." His eyes softened, looking at you so fondly that you almost wanted to take back every word you had just said.

"We could be."

Time stopped. The way he said it so nonchalantly made you feel absolutely breathless, like you were punched so deeply in the gut. You so desperately wanted to kiss him in that moment — say fuck it, why not be his mate for the rest of your lives — but that was nothing but the godforsaken omega in you talking. This wasn't some cheesy romcom movie, this was real life. Why in the world would he think there was a possibility that he’d be your mate? The two of you barely knew each other besides the light-hearted chats you’ve had together, he only liked your presence because like every other omega, you were easy.

No matter how long you stayed up at night thinking about him or how much you desired pressing your body against his at all times, you would not sacrifice your future for him. You were trying to be more than just your sub-gender and more than solely becoming an alpha’s eventual trophy wife. Being with him would only complicate things. There was nothing he could do or say would change your perspective.

As you stood up with your stuff, you told him as firmly as you were able to make it without your voice wavering.

"No, we couldn't."

It felt like it was you trying to convince yourself otherwise.

You’d do anything to not be the one watching his heart break right in front of your eyes, his mood changing almost immediately. He tried to look away from you but you saw the deep disappointment reflecting in his irises. The softness they once held hardened up once he realized what he was feeling, trying hard to swallow back the pain. The change of his smell washed over you in waves, a cold melancholy hitting the back of your throat while a burning anger bit at the pit of your stomach at the same time. It wasn't like him to be so distraught with a simple rejection, maybe you were the first one that didn't immediately fall for his charms.

Maybe, just maybe... it should've been you that had gotten rejected instead. Perhaps it would've made you feel less awful about it.

"Yeah, sorry. I… I don’t even know why I said that. Why would I even choose yo— No. Wait. Fuck, I—" Reiner cleared his throat quickly and stood up himself, ready to get out of the situation he put himself in. He was backpedaling, you knew he was, but it didn’t make you or him feel any better about the situation. He really was not used to rejection, huh?

"Let's... let's forget all that. There’s a party going on in Delta Kappa Theta tonight. If you want to come, come. I don’t want you to keep preventing yourself from having fun." The way he still cared about you first made you feel like you were the complete piece of shit here. No matter what though, you didn’t owe him a relationship or situationship or whatever you two have.

You partially nodded anyways, a squeak of an ‘okay’ barely escaping you as you watched him walk away. Every step that he took made you feel even less sure about what you just did, but it was for the best… right?

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

It was the first frat party you’ve ever been to and as you approached the house, you knew that it was going to be way out of your comfort zone. You wanted to go back to your safe and warm dorm, make up an excuse to go to bed early, but Reiner was right, you shouldn't be cooping yourself up for so long without any other interaction besides him. You slowly took in a deep breath, tugging at the seams of your jacket before entering the house, music blaring in your ears and bright lights hitting your eyes as soon as you opened the door.

Find Reiner, find him. Your omega begged you as you shuffled through drunk and dancing bodies, but you ignored it. Would he even want to see you after you rejected him?

Someone tapped you on the shoulder and you turned towards the person, eyes wide with shock.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you," Another alpha, his clean rain-like scent faint from the amount of alcohol in the air. He was extremely tall but folded his body within himself while holding a red solo cup, and his black hair was in desperate need of a new haircut, nearly covering the tops of his eyes. The man didn't seem to present himself like an alpha, his demeanor certainly different to the ones you've met and seen before. "You smelled like my friend and the lights are way too bright so I thought you were him, so sorry again."

He looked vaguely familiar but it seemed that he recognized you first, his mouth suddenly agape. "Wait. Aren't you the girl that Reiner keeps talking about? Uh... sorry. What was your name again?"

"Y/N, nice to meet you. Reiner... mentioned me?"

He kindly smiled and nodded, holding out his hand for you to shake. "Bertolt and you have no idea. You're basically all he wants to talk about recently."

It felt like your heart skipped a beat, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You really had that much of an effect on him? You felt partially proud that you, a complete nobody, managed to get him head over heels for you. The other part felt horrible, you didn't mean to lead him on like that to the point where he started bringing you up to his friends. It seemed that Bertolt realized what he said was causing you to get upset, pulling you towards the kitchen.

He quickly scooped up some liquid from a punchbowl and poured it into a new cup, handing it over to you. "Here. A drink might make you feel better."

You weren't new to drinking, only having it a few times casually here and there so you took a quick sip, a smooth burn going down your throat. You coughed lightly and shook your head, hearing him chuckle. He leaned against the countertop beside you, swirling around the cup in his hand.

"Bertolt?" You hated how small you sounded, trailing your fingertips against the ridges of the plastic cup.

"Hm?" He started to take another sip out of his drink, raising it up above his head.

"I don't know if he told you this already but I rejected him this afternoon." The sound of him choking and hacking followed suit immediately after you confessed, a spew of apologies running out of your mouth as you patted his back to get it all out. He definitely didn't tell him yet.

Once he managed to finally stop clearing his throat, he wiped his mouth and turned towards you, eyes wide. "Why did you?"

You bit the inside of your cheek and took another quick sip. "I told him that I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship or sex, all I want to do is focus on is passing my classes and graduating. That's the complete and honest truth."

His friend stayed quiet for a bit until he nodded once, as if he understood your reasoning.

"That's fair, you should be able to pursue what you want to do for your life instead of tending to his needs. It's hard out there for omegas and it's great that you're doing more for yourself. I know Reiner really does actually like you, but you don't have to pursue anything with him if you don't want to. You control what you get to do."

You felt flushed from both the alcohol and his words, you've never met an alpha that shared such a considerably controversial opinion before. You quietly thanked him, watching him tilt his head up towards the ceiling, sighing softly.

"Reiner... I've known Reiner since middle school and fuck, he has his moments where he tends to be a shitty guy, even long before he presented as an alpha. He's stubborn as hell and rarely listens to us and he's occasionally a great guy to be teamed up with, but inside, I know he's just trying to figure himself out."

"What do you mean?" He flinched, beginning to sweat bullets as he nervously fidgeted next to you.

"A-ah, sorry. I don't know if I should be telling you this since you're also his friend but," His pale eyes darted side-to-side, as if he was making sure that no one was listening. "Every omega he's been with, he calls all of them 'practice' for his fated mate. Everyone knows that having a fated mate is super, super rare but since he met you, well..."

He nervously tugged at the hem of his shirt but you immediately knew what he was saying.

"No." You awkwardly started laughing, shaking your head quickly. The house immediately felt even more stuffy and overbearing, a nauseating feeling overcoming you all of a sudden. Omegas being used as practice? Were you just another practice target if the relationship didn't work out?

"N-no, he doesn't seriously think that I'm his fated mate?"

Bertolt sharply inhaled through his teeth, eyes locked to the ground. "Reiner was always hopeful he'd find his second half and you've been the only omega he speaks so positively and constantly about. He mentioned the day you guys met, how your pheromones enticed him so much that he nearly kissed you and he wanted nothing more but to have you as his mate after that. Ugh, sorry. Even saying it out loud makes me feel gross."

You felt sick, numb. Were you even friends from the start or was all of his actions just some kind of courting method? You could barely hear yourself tell Bertolt that you had to go, fumbling a goodbye and an apology to him before pushing yourself into the crowd. The sea of people felt like it was getting more impossible to navigate the more you moved in it, a tight feeling building in your chest from being overwhelmed by every little smell and sound all around you.

Get out.

Get out.

GET OUT.

When you finally managed to push through and find the front door, your blood ran cold immediately. Like a deer frozen in front of oncoming headlights, you couldn't believe what you were staring at. Every part of your body screamed in complete anguish and devastation but you couldn't move. You had no right to, but you couldn't stop your tears from rapidly falling down your cheeks.

Reiner Braun, sitting down on the couch with some stranger on his lap, tracing his hands down their back, and pulling them closer to his body.

Reiner Braun, kissing down their neck, the peaks of his canines just barely scraping against their scent gland.

Reiner Braun, basically publicly grinding himself against this willing participant of his.

His eyes opened half-lidded and in some cruel form of fate, locked onto yours. Out of everyone in the room, he managed to find yours. He pulled away from the omega, a strand of drool still connecting between them. His hand still rested comfortably on the curve of their back, his mouth uttering only one name with wide eyes.

"Y/N...?"

All you could think as you finally snapped out of it — running out of the fraternity until your lungs felt like they were being ripped to shreds — was how bad you felt for that omega. How they were only going to be reduced into something so demeaning, a dummy-run to find his perfect mate. They didn't deserve that, being wide-eyed and hopeful that because he decided to choose them for his lustful pursuits, they're finally worthy of being a candidate of his.

You sobbed aloud as you washed and scrubbed your body red once you reached your dorm, trying to erase every scent and touch he made for the past couple of months. He was nothing more but absolute filth and you fell for it like a fool, a stupid brainless omega. You thought you were better than that but no, you were just like the rest of them. Even if you were his so-called fated mate, why did he continue to seek out others? Wouldn't he have tried to abstain? Sure, you shouldn't have expected that much out of him considering that you didn't even accept his confession but for some reason, it still hurt.

Fuck Reiner Braun. You should've never forgotten that in the first place.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Now you were here, leaving the messy history of the second year behind and now moving onto your third. Always look to the future, as they say. You took a lot of preventatives in avoiding seeing Reiner, the plan nearly as extensive as your studying.

You blocked his number once he started to keep calling over and over again ever since the party, blocking the new ones that came every so often and changing your number once you couldn't take it anymore. There was no reason for you to hear his explanation, it's his business on who he decides to fuck and you shouldn't be mad about it anymore. Part of you was afraid that if you hear him explain himself, you'd run right back to him just like every other omega he had a finger wrapped around.

You stopped frequenting areas you used to hang around in, which was unfortunate since some of those places were your favorites. You moved dorms, avoided places he frequented, and made sure he wasn't in any of your classes. Your majors were luckily too different to be in the same buildings or rooms, and with the help of Bertolt, you were always one step ahead of him.

He was the one that approached you first in one of your classes together at the start of the new semester and taught you the ways in how to avoid meeting up with him. You didn't know why his best friend wanted to help you and once asked him, getting the answer that Reiner hasn't been himself recently and he was afraid that he might do something rash if he managed to find you.

"You have so much ahead of you, I’d hate to see Reiner make you throw it away."

Bertolt made sure that he wasn't seen with you whenever the two of you hung out, and when he was with him, he made sure to steer clear of your direction with a simple text. He had to bathe immediately after just in case your scent got on him, which should be nonexistent but he was afraid that if there was just the vaguest trace on him, Reiner would hound him about it. He basically became your bodyguard whenever it was possible for him to do so, and you didn't even ask. You've never felt so grateful meeting someone like him before.

He also brought up that Reiner's been playing more rougher than usual, and snapping at others even when they're on his side of the team exercises. Even the coach was too afraid to say anything about his behavior, relying on him and a few others that were friends with him to talk to him about it.

"It sounds like he's in a pre-rut." You mentioned, handing over the pickles from your sandwich over to him. He took them with an open palm and threw them into his mouth like chips.

"I hope not, his scent smells the same so far but he rarely gets into ruts for me to really know what he smells like. Plus, he never knows how to handle them well."

"Reiner doesn't choose any of the omegas he messes around with for his ruts?" Bertolt shook his head, swallowing.

"Not at all. It's weird, he may mess around with them during their heats but he never, ever lets them in when he's going through a rut. Think it has something to do with the fated mate mentality he has, but sometimes we don't even know he was ever in one until they're over, he basically disappears for a week or so."

It’s funny in a weird way. The two of you were hiding each other from behind Reiner’s back as if the two of you were dating. Even though the two of you became close, your relationship with him was nothing romantic. Some kind of bro-code would've been broken between Reiner and Bertolt if you started dating him, and you'd be eating your own words from what you've said to Reiner. Then again, you never wanted to date him and tolerated his looming, clingy presence on most days.

Bertolt told you that he liked someone but was too afraid to make any move. She was another alpha and one of his friends, so the pairing itself had its controversies. He kept saying that his confession might ruin what they had for years and he was satisfied being in her shadow. It was sad to hear him put himself in second place for her happiness. So you tried doing a little nudge for him to go for it — 'the worst she can say is no' kind of talk — because it was better for him to say something than nothing at all and still quietly pine for her. Bertolt got too excited and rushed in with the confession after one of his practices without your knowledge, a messy bouquet of roses tightly gripped in his hand.

There was a few word texts that he sent to you after the whole ordeal:

Didn't get accepted.

Heartbroken.

Bar.

You found him standing in front of your dormitory building waiting for you, awkward looks of both omegas and betas glancing at him. As you approached him, he took a few steps towards you and almost collapsed in your arms as you held them outstretched. His tears and snot quickly dampened your jacket, his body wracking out heaves of anguish. There wasn't an alpha in the world that you've seen so vulnerable before, his fists gripping your clothes tightly as he shook in sadness.

He started telling you what had happened once he somewhat composed himself, his voice weak and crackly as the two of you walked to his chosen bar. Unfortunately, she turned him down and told him that she was actually interested in some beta from Paradis Tech named Armin. You could only imagine the bouquet dropping to the floor in dramatic fashion, tears welling up in poor Bertolt's eyes. She apologized and somewhat comforted him by saying that his confession won't change anything between their friendship. That was good, at least on her side.

You started consoling him, rubbing his back in circles as he drunkenly wept on the polished wood after downing one too many tequila shots. The speed in which he drank each one was shocking to say the least, you don't think his glass touched the table since he picked it up.

"We've known each 'ther shince we were kitss." He hiccupped, head resting in-between his arms as he tearfully stared in the distance and dangled the shot cup in his fingers.

"If I shaid sumnthin 'ears ago, would she hab 'ccepted me — or or or — shill reject me because of awer shub-genda?" You pitifully stared at his crumpled form, not knowing what to really say to make him feel better about the situation. The bartender then took his glass from Bertolt and told you to take the poor guy home, shaking his head slowly as he quietly whined about getting cut off.

"C'mon big guy, let's get you back."

The walk was quiet besides the occasional sniffle and you could tell he was trying not to fall on top of you, his feet slowly dragging on the concrete. As the designated sober friend, you were carefully observing him, a hand firmly holding the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He stopped suddenly, the sounds of his sneakers squeaking.

"Y/N."

"Hm?"

You turned your attention towards him, tilting your head to the side.

"If I wazzn'tin love wif Annie, I'd be sooooo in love 'ith—"

Bertolt then jolted to the side of an alleyway before he could finish what he was saying and started throwing up. It prompted you to quickly go by his side and hold him up, patting hard on his back to get it all out. You knew what he was going to say and you hated it. He's drunk and sad, nothing that came out of him was going to be honest.

"Don't say that Bertolt." You mumbled, lifting him back up once he finished and slinging his arm over your shoulders.

"I'm not going to be a replacement for you."

He reached over with his other hand, skin cold around the nape of your neck as he pulled your face towards his. You could smell the alcohol lingering in his breath, face cringing when you saw a bit of spittle still hanging off of his lips. He started saying something even more incoherent, his eyes beginning to close in hints of slumber.

"No, no, no. I... I swer'lve ewtoo."

You laughed softly as you shook your head in amusement, pulling him forwards. He really won't remember this at all. Bertolt finally fell silent, the occasional drunken groans slipping through if you tugged him too roughly.

Maybe in another world, if you had met Bertolt before Reiner...

You made the decision to take him to your dorm. The dormitory building was way closer than the frat house he lived in, and you'd rather not lug around his heavy body another ten blocks to get there. Never in your life you had thought you'd be sneaking in a giant of an alpha into the shared beta-omega dorms, but you wouldn't be the first to do so. It's a good thing his scent was currently dulled with alcohol or you'd be in more trouble trying to hide him. Quickly unlocking your door and taking him over to your loveseat, you watched as his body slowly relaxed into the cushions.

He was simply way too tall for the seating, his legs dangled off of the side of the couch as you adjusted him to a positioning that would prevent any risk of asphyxiation if he started throwing up again. You highly doubted that he had anything left in him, but it was good to be on the safe side. You lightly pinched his cheek, getting a change of clothes and headed towards the bathroom.

You checked on him once more before going to bed, a light snore coming out of him. Seems like he's all tuckered out and okay for now, the hangover is definitely not going to be pretty in the morning. You settled yourself into your sheets and turned the lights off, soon falling asleep.

The sound of your alarm on your phone blared in your ears, arms trying to pull out from underneath the blanket to turn it off but you didn't move an inch. Groggily opening your eyes, you saw an arm wrapped around your body, your mind not registering what was going on until you heard the soft sounds of breathing on top of your head. You turned your head slowly to the couch, the connection finally being put together when you saw his body wasn't lying there.

He started to rouse from his sleep when the alarm kept sounding off, an annoyed hiss slipping through his lip as his head lifted up from yours, reaching over himself to shut it off.

"Good morning big guy." You whispered as he settled back next to you, lightly squeezing you closer to him as if you were his pillow.

Bertolt grumbled quietly. "What time is it?"

"According to my alarm, maybe 8:05 in the morning." You tried to get up to get him water and something for his headache, but he didn't budge an inch. The two of you laid with each other, basking in the morning warmth quietly.

"Sorry for getting in bed with you, I tried finding a blanket but didn't want to wake you up."

"It's fine," You hummed quietly, turning your body towards him. "You okay though?"

He opened his mouth but closed it, falling silent as he slowly began to think. He turned on his back, staring at the white ceiling.

"Not really. Everything still hurts and I'm tempted to cry even more but... I don't know. Some part of me feels... relieved? If I never told her, I'd still be stuck in a loop worrying whether I'd ruin something between us and keep having this twist in my stomach whenever I see her with someone else. I'm glad that she found someone that she's happy with but..."

Bertolt put his forearm over his eyes, letting out a soft laugh.

"But why do I still want her?" His voice cracked, a tremble following the end of his words and once more, you wrapped your arms around his torso. You could smell his sadness, a heavy and misty petrichor filling the room in waves.

"Sometimes there's things that we desperately want to have but can't have. Irrational as it is, it's in our nature." You mumbled, your hands balling up in his sweatshirt.

"Like you with Reiner?" Your blood ran cold as he said that but you merely pushed your face into his body.

"I don't know."

In the end, Reiner managed to find you and ask you to his game. You texted Bertolt, asking how was he able to get your location after being almost MIA for months. Apparently when you and him finally snuck him out of the dormitory, it completely slipped his mind that he had to wash off like usual. When he entered the frat house, Reiner greeted him but stopped midway, quickly approaching him and grabbing his shirt collar roughly.

He demanded me to tell him where you were. I'm so sorry Y/N, I couldn't stop him and our team needs the both of us playing.

You stared at the text, almost throwing your phone in frustration. You should've said no, had firmly stood behind your decision. Yet, the second his pheromones reached your nostrils, you couldn't stop yourself from agreeing, even if you were trying to look angry at him. You've noticed it had gotten stronger than before, was it because you haven't seen him in a while? You couldn't even be mad at Bertolt, you'd be terrified out of your mind too if an alpha was demanding an answer from you like that.

It's only for a few hours, you thought as you took in a slow breath. After that, he'll finally leave you alone.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Reiner picked you up earlier than usual. It was about 5:10 when you heard a knock at your door, causing you put down the lip gloss before you even could apply it. Shuffling over and peeking through the peephole, you saw him standing there in a suit and tie. He cleaned himself up, the stubble he once had when he found you was completely shaven away and his blond hair was slight slicked back with gel.

"You're early." You muttered as you opened the door, keeping it barely ajar. He's not even supposed to step foot in the dorm, nervousness crawling up your spine. His pheromones hit you like a train, practically everyone that was walking down the dorm hallway could smell him, heads turning in your room's direction.

"I wanted to see you." He grinned, pushing the door open even more — nearly knocking you over — and handing you a bouquet of morning glories, camellias, and forget-me-nots. As you were staring at the mostly red flowers, almost a complete eyesore with the addition of the light blue petals that peered out from within, he waltzed in your safe haven without your permission.

"Hey! Reiner, you can't just—!"

You groaned as you exasperatedly followed after him, placing the bouquet down on your desk. His form was absolutely massive compared to the entire room, his head constantly turning towards the different decor that you hung up on the walls.

"I've never seen your dorm on the inside before, it's cute. It's... you." He softly mumbled, your face turning warm. You grabbed his sleeve, trying to tug him out of your space so you can get ready, but he stopped in the middle of the room, his attention honed in towards the messed sheets of your bed.

"Reiner," You started, your eyes following to where he was looking at. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when you smelled a burning anger occupy the space — a smoldering, cindering scent — nearly making you cover your nose from how horrible it was. You gulped, hand slipping out and down to your side in a fist. "Reiner, w-we... we didn't do anything."

He just stood there silently, still focused on your bed. He has every right to be angry, you were literally snuggling with his best friend this morning, but you didn't belong to him. Scummy as it was, you made your bed and laid on it, there was nothing he could change about it.

"I-I'm just going to get ready." You whispered, turning around to go back into the bathroom. Big mistake.

Large hands grabbed your wrist, dragging you around in a speed that you couldn't comprehend. You almost screamed as he threw you on the bed, Reiner following after you and trapping you beneath him, his leg in-between yours. Fear was pouring out of you in waves but he couldn't smell it, no one could.

It took him little time and effort for him to press his lips against yours, your eyes wide as you soon realized what he was doing. You tried moving your mouth away, a scared and little no slipping out but he caught you again, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your head to stay in place. You tried pulling at his suit, squirming and kicking your legs, anything to get this monster off of you, but he didn't budge, seemingly finding enjoyment in your weak attempts as he pressed himself deeper against your lips.

His knee nudged at your cunt, a muffled, surprised gasp coming out of you, letting him enter your mouth even more. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his tongue run against yours, the wet muscle violating wherever he went in a meticulous fashion. You could barely breathe, the smell of him and the aftershave he had on was so intense that you could feel the tug of your omega side slipping through the cracks of your mind; not even your medication was able to stop you from feeling this way.

Reiner finally pulled away, a mix of each other's saliva connecting the two of you. Strands of his gelled back hair fell over his forehead, your once-brushed out hair tousled into a mess. Both of your breaths were uneven and heavy, his eyes low and dazed as he stared down at you. Tears were running down your face, ruining what you've already put on, your eyebrows scrunched together in absolute horror as you shared the same stare with him. He sniffed the air once, again and again as he neared your neck.

"Stop, stop, stop." You cried out as you pushed against his stubborn head, fearing that he would bite down on your scent gland.

He didn't make any move, only sniffing at you like a curious dog. He then pressed his lips against it, causing you to abruptly stiffen in horrid expectation.

There was no pain as he pulled away from you, your hand immediately shooting to your neck to feel for any welts or marks. Nothing. A simple kiss was all he did on it, and you couldn't help but feel appreciative that he didn't mark you.

"Don't you dare see Bertolt ever again, you understand?" He hissed into your ear, the threat echoing hollowly in your head. No way in hell were you going to listen to him, but the omega in you nodded slowly, his heavy body finally lifting off of you. You tried to ignore the imprint straining against his lower half, your eyes staring up at him in complete shock.

"Go get yourself ready."

Shakily getting up on your feet, you beelined towards the bathroom without a single word, nearly collapsing on the floor once you turned the lock. As you looked at your face in the mirror, dripping dark drops of mascara and eyeliner stained the apples of your cheeks. The lipstick that was once there, was now rubbed away, leaving nothing but your bare lips. Your hand trembled as you reached over for a makeup wipe, a quiver of a sigh coming out of you.

You wanted to throw up, get every bit of spit and slobber of his out of your system, but you couldn’t. He’d hear you.

Reiner brought one of his jersey's for you to wear once you came out of the bathroom with fresh casual makeup back on, and you could tell that the article was completely drenched in his scent. You sniffed at it gingerly as you held it in your hands, cringing away from the sweet vanilla smell.

"What? It's clean, I promise."

"Liar." You mumbled under your breath but pulled it over the shirt you wore, the fabric loose against your body. He took a quick minute to admire you in his clothing, placing his hand on your cheek and stroking the skin with his thumb. You could still see the red stain of your lipstick smeared on his lips, trying to fight back tears and a sneer.

"You look so fuckable right now," You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched the tip of his tongue licked across his bottom lip, the darks of his pupils reflecting an unhinged licentiousness that horrified you within every atom in your body. "Maybe tonight, when I win, I'll be getting another trophy."

"Don't forget our deal asshole," You finally spat out, ripping his hand off of your face in disgust. "I'm only going to your stupid game because of the promise you made this morning."

Reiner simply stared down at you, your nerves scrambling even worse than before. He finally scoffed, crossing his arms. "Right. Our deal."

You hated the fact that he basically was acting like he didn't just forcefully kiss you, your nails digging into the palm of your hand. "Can we go now?"

He checked his phone, huffing slightly. "Yeah. Don't worry, we're not that far to the stadium. Just a few traffic lights and we'll be there."

You felt all the color drain from your face. You thought it was close by in walking terms but now you had to be in a small space where it now completely smells like him? Might as well hold your breath the entire ride.

The short drive was quiet, some random old rock station was lowly playing on the radio, but the two of you didn't speak to each other. What would even be exchanged anymore? You didn't want to be associated with him so long as you walked on this planet. Reiner's fingers thrummed on the wheel, red spilling into the car and staining every surface within. He turned towards you as if he wanted to say something and you stared back, a chill running down your spine. No words were said, but you felt every little thing from his smell.

Ravenous, a voracious appetite for the predator in disguise. Right in front of him, a five-course meal just ripe for the picking. All he's doing now was waiting for you to back into an inescapable cliff, the perfect moment to finally strike.

"...You have to go." You whispered and he finally broke eye contact, staring at the traffic light above and accelerating.

"Yeah, right."

The silence once presumed until the two of you approached the stadium, him mentioning that he got you a seat near the rink so you could see the action up close. To be honest, you could care less about the game and who would win overall. Reiner handed you the ticket between his index and middle finger, but when you reached over to grab it, he took it back.

"Need a good luck kiss from you first. If this is the last time I'll get to see you, I want to make it last."

You didn't want to rile him up before he played or make him force his hand upon you in the car, so you planted a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing the ticket from his hand simultaneously. "Okay. Done. Good luck or whatever."

You scrambled out of his car, making your way to the inside as soon as possible. The arena was louder than you thought once you stepped foot, the joyous chatter and screams echoing throughout the hallways. LED screens hanging from the ceiling flashed the words Marley Warriors vs Paradis Titans, showing the line-ups of each team member.

Reiner came first in the centers, his pose prideful and boasting with stats to match. The other three names that you noticed were Porco Galliard, Colt Grice, and Eren Kruger. You eventually saw Bertolt come up as one of the right wingers but no sign of his usual reserved side showed in his photo, he looked focused and tough more than anything else. One of the goalies was an older looking individual by the name of Zeke Jaeger, confident but not too boasting. Clips of their past games showed afterwards, showing their amazing teamwork and impressive previous goals, then moving on to the other team.

The main centers for the Paradis Titans were composed of four men; Eren Jaeger, Jean Kirschtein, Levi Ackerman, and Miche Zacharius. Was the Eren guy related to the other Jaeger on your university's team? They definitely didn't look alike in your opinion but it could simply be because of a crazy Punnett square. Some wingers and defensemen that you sorta paid attention to were Armin Arlelt, Hange Zoë, Floch Forster, and Connie Springer. The goalie on their team was a massive blond man named Erwin Smith, his photo exuding a powerful stance, maybe even more than your uni's goalie. You felt like Reiner's team might have some trouble facing them, their defense and attack seems pretty threatening.

You finally took a glance at your ticket, walking around trying to find the stairway for your seating. The smells of popcorn, melted cheese, and hotdogs filled your nose, but you didn't feel hungry at all, still sick to your stomach from what had happened earlier. Eventually you finally found where you were supposed to go, and if you thought it was loud in the other shell of the arena, finally stepping in the seating area and the rink was absolutely ear-breaking.

Sirens, music, screaming, loud announcers. Almost every unbearable sound was contained in the structure, you should've bought earplugs prior to this. Not to mention, every scent of maybe hundred alphas and omegas intertwined made you feel even more overwhelmed, a headache beginning to form.

It's only for a few hours, a few hours and you'll never see this place or him ever again.

Your seat was nearby Reiner's team, nearly in-between the other team as well, the other teammates chattering with each other. You've sorta recognized them, occasionally seen around campus and such. Heads and eyes of strangers from school nearby were somewhat turning towards you, even the team started to notice you walking up behind them. Your face burned up at the realization once you sat down. Shit. You had completely forgotten that you were wearing Reiner's heavily scented jersey, you might as well be showing off the mating mark that he could've made a few hours ago.

"Yo Braun's omega is here!" One of the team members called out and you almost hid your head in your hands in embarrassment. Oh God, don't say that.

"Y/N, you made it?" The most recognizable voice cleared your thoughts immediately, head perking back up with a wide smile.

"Bertolt!" You wanted to hug him but he recoiled back as if you were a stranger, his nose scrunching. Your face fell immediately, his gaze sinking down in shame when he noticed your crestfallen expression.

"Sorry, it's not you. It's... y'know. That." He nudged the bottom of the jersey with the end of his stick, a frown forming on your face.

"I know. He made me wear it." You frustratingly tugged at the fabric with one hand and he chuckled, ruffling the top of your head. You'd burn it on the spot if you could.

"I didn't make you wear anything babe, you've always liked wearing my clothes." The sound of his voice made you freeze in place, eyes wide as your head turned in the direction of where he was walking in. Bertolt followed suit, his hand retracting away from you as if you were suddenly a hot stove.

"I don't think I could follow up your end of our deal if you're not respecting my demands, omega." No. That was never part of the agreement. You just gave the okay so he'd get off your back about it. He genuinely couldn't be serious about not seeing Bertolt anymore, right?

"Don't be an asshole Reiner. She's not just an omega."

The blond scowled at his friend, shoving his helmet roughly against his chest. He pushed it off of him, staring the other down in a sneer. You've never seen Bertolt like this before, the usual rain smell he had was turning stormy and bitterly furious.

"Oh, I'm the asshole? I wasn't the one hiding my fucking mate from me for months and sleeping in her bed. Not to mention, what happened to Annie or did you get tired of another alpha that's better than you?" You internally winced for him, that was such a low blow. Bertolt looked stunned for a second, glancing over at you for a quick second, but he pushed his shoulder back roughly in return.

"Don't bring Annie into this Reiner, this is about my friend. Did you really think she'd let you — of all people in this school — mark her when you act like a conceited asshole? She's not your fated mate. You've proven that over and over again that she's going to be like the rest, you knotheaded fuck."

You gasped at the sudden insult, a vein nearly popping out of Reiner's forehead but he didn't say anything more, pushing past Bertolt and shouldering him roughly with a scowl. You didn't mean for them to start an argument with one another, the game hadn't even started and tensions were already high. The Paradis Titans team weren't hiding their amused stares, the Eren Jaeger guy whispering to the short haired, bowl-cut blond next to him; Armin, you think. The murmurs of strangers behind you made you feel sick, hearing the word knottease being tossed around, the horrid word directed towards you.

You started to apologize profusely once Bertolt turned towards you, but he simply held out a hand, patting your shoulder as you stopped.

"Don't be. Someone needed to say it to him, maybe this fight would finally clear his head."

"But the game Bertolt, I—" You started but he interrupted you once more.

"I don't give a shit about the game if you're the one being hurt. You matter more than hitting a puck around, okay?" If you weren't wearing Reiner's jersey, you'd hug him right now. He smiled and put his helmet on, leaning close to you to whisper something in your ear.

"By the way, don't listen to the jerks behind you. You're nothing like that, you're going to be something great." He backed away once the horn started, walking over to the entrance to the ice rink to join his team. Good luck, you wanted to say because if anything, he'll need it when he gets into the arena with a monster in tow.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

If you thought Reiner was bad in practice, his violent playstyle was nothing compared to when he's in an actual game. How on Earth this sport was approved to play for anyone, you had no idea. All you could hear was men yelling at each other and slamming each other to snatch the slippery little puck, fans behind you hollering just as loudly.

Both Reiner and Bertolt had seemed to forgive each other on the court, winning being the only thing on their minds. Just like in practice, they didn't have to say anything to get the point across, making passes and attempted shots whenever they had the slightest of openings. The two Galliards seemed to be more communicative with one another, defending the goalie whenever they could with short barks of commands. They were good but Eren Jaeger seemed to be the rookie ace of the Titans, managing to push through and score in the most impossible scenarios.

You could tell he was aggravating them, putting them in a corner while constantly taunting them with a one-liner or a smug smile as he scored. An angry alpha was something not to mess with and putting a whole group of them against other alphas who were mocking them for their failures? It's obviously an immediate recipe for disaster.

Intermission came around, the score against the Warriors by two. As the teams were talking to one another to plan out their next attack, you watched the Zambonis slowly smooth out the ice again. You paid no attention to them and their chatter, you wouldn't have made sense of it anyways.

"Hey," You looked around for the source of the voice and finally down, seeing bright turquoise-blue and a mess of brown hair standing below you. He smelled sharply fresh, like the first bite to a mint leaf and drinking cold water afterwards. It wasn't necessarily bad like most in the arena, just made your nose crinkle a little from the suddenness of it. "Eren Jaeger."

"Oh- um... Y/N. Aren't you supposed to be talking to your team?"

He waved his hand dismissively towards your statement, crossing his arms with a smile. "Nah, there's nothing else that's new with the planning. You, however, are the talk of the arena."

Your cheeks flushed warm, the temptation of burying yourself alive later on growing more and more, but you grimaced instead. "So what? You wanted to see if I'm what they say I am?"

Eren shook his head, taking a few steps closer towards you. "I'm not talking about the knottease comments, I'm talking about the Reiner Braun's mate comments. Is it true?"

"No! Of course not!" You exclaimed in shock, but the subtle-not-so-subtle glance downwards towards your attire seemed to make him doubt you otherwise. You tried defending yourself about it without revealing much about the twisted relationship you actually have with Reiner.

"This is just because he thinks he's claimed me and we've made a deal. I have no other choice."

"Is it now? Well then," He pointed towards himself with a thumb, his grin growing even wider. "When I win, wanna go on a date with me after this?"

How many alphas were gunning for you right now?! You knew that you took your suppressants today after Bertolt left your dorm so how come this was happening to you? The absolute balls on this man, especially since he was thinking that his team had already won. You wearily shook your head, you've had your fill of pestering alphas for the rest of your schooling life.

He looked dejected for a second but perked up immediately, the buzzer of the timer echoing throughout the arena. You thought that was that and began to turn your attention towards your college's team, but then he called out a 'head's up', tossing something in your direction. You caught it in surprise, looking in the palm of your hands and finding a keyhole shaped earring.

"Keep it! For the next time we meet!" Eren waved you goodbye and jogged over to his side of the team, high-fiving and chattering with his friends before putting a helmet on. You let a small smile slip out, he may be a little cute but there was definitely no way you were ever going to see him ever again. You safely tucked it into your pocket, finally looking towards the Warriors.

He was watching you. Of course. There was a livid look in his eyes, his brows scrunched even more in irascibility and his teeth were bared, perhaps even grinding together in this current moment. You paled at the thought of them sinking into your neck like some kind of rabid animal. Reiner was barely human anymore, you realize. Any loving gaze that he had before for you was nothing more but a dangerous hunger.

All you could hope was for the Warriors to win so he would be in a decent mood to finalize the goodbyes, and you'd pray for the Titans for the brutality that they're about to endure because of his horrid attachment to you.

The players slid into the ice once more, the deafening cheers of everyone growing louder and louder as the second half of the game was beginning to start. The referee smoothly made his way between the two masses of men, Reiner staring down coldly into the clear mask of Eren. Like a coin flip, the puck was thrown highly into the midst of them, their eyes following it as it made its way down to the icy ground.

Click.

In a snap of a finger, the sound of sticks bashed together once the puck bounced off of the surface. Like a choreographed dance, the rivals whirled with one another, swinging and twisting their bodies around in order to get ahold of the very thing that might as well be the trophy itself. The intensity of the game was now at an all time high that even you started to pay more attention to it, the hairs on your arms raising in anticipation.

The puck swung back and forth like a pinball, but the Warriors managing to catch up to a tie. It was starting to become a standstill again however, taunting chants coming out from the people in the stands, jeering at the anyone that opposed their team. Players were being switched out on both teams during timeouts but few remained on the ice, a tense aura between the three.

Reiner, Bertolt, Eren.

Bertolt took a few glances at his friend, tapping the end of his stick with his and seemingly started to exchange words with him from what you could see. Who knows what it was about; the game, the enemy team, you. He only lifted his fist up, letting the other return it in a similar gesture and that seemed to calm the black-haired male's nerves.

Reiner's eyes were lasered in on Eren for the most part, gripping the handle of his stick tightly and swiping it around on the ice as if he was practicing a shot. He was truly unrecognizable, a shell of the man that once followed you around like the world's most clingiest puppy dog. You knew he wanted to show-off, his pride was at risk to a girl that he believed he owned for months. Disgusting and typical.

Eren seemed the most lax out of all of them, leaning against the plastic border as fans behind him fawned over him. He seemed not to care about Reiner's burning glares at him, waving across the rink to seemingly you. He seemed nice, but it was obvious that he had more intentions than just wanting to befriend you.

The whistle sounded and the game began once more, the men skating themselves back to the middle. You checked how much time was left on the clock, ten minutes. Ten more excruciating minutes and you were going to be finally free.

" 'Round it now!" You could hear Reiner call out to Grice as he suddenly slammed his complete weight into enemy Jaeger, their eyes meeting as the others chased after the puck. They went after it as well once he recovered from the blow, but it looked like they started talking and you managed to spot a furious glint glazing over his hazel eyes.

He suddenly threw his stick out onto the rink, ripping off his gloves and grabbing Jaeger's shirt by the collar in frightening speed. Reiner was undeniably experienced with his punches, uppercutting him from below the mask. It toppled off of his head, falling to the ground with a crack, and Eren was stunned for a second, just for a single second. He was unable to completely process what had happened before the bigger male tackled him to the cold ground, the deafening sounds of heavy bodies slamming into the ice made the arena stand still.

The referee was too afraid to intervene but blew the whistle immediately, and hundreds of people watched the Reiner Braun brutally dig his knuckles into his face. Fresh crimson spilt down on the ice in splatters and you were forced to witness him weakly trying to stop him, protecting his face as much as possible to no avail. Bertolt immediately tried pulling him off of him, shouting at him that he needed to stop but it was like he was in a trance, almost attacking him in the process.

He finally was pulled off of Eren by the goalie of Warriors — furiously throwing his own punch into his face — and the poor boy having to be quickly removed from the rink on a stretcher. Reiner was pinned to the ground by multiple individuals and given a tranquilizer, his body soon relaxing and slumping over. They put him on a stretcher as well, his hands and legs bounded together and his mouth wrapped with a cloth rag. He was still slightly conscious, his calm and woozy stare meeting your horrified one.

The game had to continue without them but you had already left, not knowing the result. You felt too nauseous from smelling the sheer fear and panic that was coming of Eren, pungent and potent as it filled the air. But Reiner's...

All you could smell was that sickening warmth, a burning sensation in your nares. The same scent from your dorm but that's not at all what made you leave immediately. The sick fuck was happy he was beating into the defenseless guy, exhilarated that his blood was running down his skin and staining the floor, joyful. The nose doesn't lie and you wonder if everyone else caught it too.

Bertolt texted you when he visited Reiner in the hospital, but you didn't respond, busy trying to scrub the remnants of him out of your dorm while tears ran down your cheeks.

He did it for you.

[wheneclipsefalls]

heyy i love ur works sm, could u possibly write a fic like the one you wrote about Lo’ak in Unmoveable, but with Neteyam as the alpha and the reader as the bratty/dominant omega. (Preferably fem reader) Tysm!!

Pairing: Adult Alpha Neteyam x Olangi Princess Omega Reader

Summary: Princess or not, a spoiled brat like you needs to be put in her place. And since you have been given over to him now, Neteyam is more than ready to put that attitude in check.

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, explicit MDNI, aged up Neteyam, omegaverse, dom/sub dynamics. power imbalance, very talkative Neteyam, breast play, nipple clamps, anal, punishment, kidnapping/arranged marriage, swearing, etc.

A/N: Hi anon...you probably thought I was never going to fufill this request😆😅 Hopefully you are still online to see this

Adult Neteyam pic by Cinetrix

Unmovable for reference

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting.” You reply simply, folding your legs upon where you are perched on a nearby boulder. 

“Is that so?” One of Neteyam’s hairless brows curves upwards into an unusual expression as he places his hands on his hips. You shrug it off as morphed social skills he has picked up, a consequence of living with Sky People. You don’t let it ruffle your feathers. 

“Yes. Soon you will have left and I will finally have some peace before my clan comes to get me.” You supply the information with a tilted chin and confidence oozing from every pore even as the towering alpha closes in on your space. 

“Your clan has given you to me, princess.” 

You refuse to meet the gaze that somehow manages to penetrate your defenses with a heated fire, contrary to his poised posture that emanates a relaxed grace. 

“An oversight on their part.” Your fingers interlock together and place on your lap. If he wants to put on a tough bravado why shouldn’t you? “Once they come to realize their mistake they will come to retrieve me. Until then, I wait.” 

However, waiting here may take more patience than you care to admit. The Olangi clan are known for their expertise as pa’li [direhorse] riders but even they may require a day or so to catch up to the point where Toruk Makto’s son has dragged you to. It's the furthest you have ever been from home. Consequently the first time you have seen the beautiful rolling grounds of the plains slowly transform into congested forest. 

You can only see a portion of the sky with these interlocking trees in the way. It pushes in on you like the bars of your enclosure, yet another representation of how trapped you have become in Neteyam’s grip. 

“I’m waiting too, paskalin [honey].” You shuffle slightly when he comes to sit beside you. The rich essence of his scent wraps around you in a vice-like grip. It has your inner omega running restless but you maintain a serene exterior. It wouldn’t be the first time an alpha has tried to rope you into submission with drifting pheromones. “In fact, we all are waiting.’ He gestures to the handful of Omatikaya warriors that have made the journey with him. They pretend to busy themselves with loading up pa’li that are already prepared. “Waiting for you to stop this tantrum of yours.” 

“Tantrum?” The word feels foreign on your tongue. 

“It means a child throwing a fit when they do not get their way.” 

“I am not a child!” You seethe, lips peeling back to reveal your pointed fangs. “I am a princess and-”

“And I am a prince.” Neteyam shrugs, cutting you off. “Yet neither of those titles mean anything out here.”

You scoff, allowing your hair to act as a protective curtain from his searing attention. A prince. What a laughable thought. A true prince does not drag a female away from her home with bound wrists and promises of mating. He has no right to call himself such a thing. 

Then again, your father calls himself Olo’eyktan yet he was the one that handed you over to the alpha. All for the promise of protection against the RDA. The Omatikaya could have asked for anything to seal the alliance between your two clans in battle but all that Neteyam had come to collect was you. 

Your father’s decision, however, could be forgiven in your eyes. He was doing what he thought was best for the people. His greatest error was believing Neteyam would be a suitable mate for you, for thinking that any alpha would be a good match for you after all that you’ve expressed against such a union. You are a free spirit. Despite your presentation as an omega you were never meant to live in an alpha’s shadows. 

“Look at me.” His voice is soft but firm. Another scoff of refusal is traveling up your throat but this time Neteyam doesn’t wait for you to follow his command. He captures your chin and forces you to turn and feel the weight of presence. It feels as if his alpha pheromones not only bleed into the space between you but also cinch around your throat like a claws. “I am your alpha now, your mate. That is the only title you should be focused on.” 

Neteyam is a strange alpha, that you have come to quickly realize. Where other alphas often raise their voices in demand for respect and submission he delivers his commands in the form of smooth purrs traveling down your spine. He uses force when necessary but never done rashly or out of anger, simply a tool to get you back to where he deems you should be. Among the other males there is no passive aggressive commentary or puffing of chests to remind them of rank. 

Instead he converses with them as old friends do. He leads the group in every sense of the word but it’s done with almost a playful hand as they laugh and make jokes with one another. And yet, after all of this backwards messaging, there is an air of dominance that laces his every move. He walks and talks with a relaxed expression as if he knows there is no need to prove himself. His supremacy is something that would not dare to be questioned. 

And somehow that comes off as higher snobbery than any other foolish alpha you’ve seen wrestle for your hand. 

“I don’t have an alpha. Nor will I ever.” With a tug your face is whipped from his hold. You manage to conceal the rush of heat to your cheeks by smoothly shifting your hair and facing away from him once more. “I suggest you accept that fact and stop wasting both of our time.”

Not a single bat of your eyes in his direction as you stare confidently ahead at the strange tree in front of you and wait to hear the party’s retreat. Instead your ears only catch the sound of a small sigh and shuffle before Neteyam is standing before you. 

“Come now, princess. It’s been fun but we still have ground to cover.” He reaches his hand out to help you up but you only gamble casting a glance at it from your peripheral vision. As far as you are concerned, Neteyam does not exist in your world. And so you treat him as such. 

“Neteyam!” A voice bellows across the distance. “We are losing daylight, brother. Are we set to travel?”

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate to send the other male a small smile before saying, “She is coming along now.”

“No I am not.” Your instant response is tainted with a gasp of offense. How dare he speak for you! “I am not moving from this rock until my clan comes to get me.” You insist, slapping his hand away. 

Neteyam remains unperturbed, simply giving a shrug before murmuring, “Have it your way then.” 

You aren’t afforded a second for a sense of victory to settle in before the prince is tossing you over his shoulder. Strongs arms wrap around the back of your thighs to keep you pinned there and decrease the range of motion for kicking. It doesn’t stop the gasp of outrage and pure spite that emanates from you. Limbs swinging in every which direction to deliver damage, you quickly resent the way his strength greatly overpowers your own. 

“I am not some fresh kill for you to carry home. Set me down right this instant!”

“I gave you the chance to walk over with dignity, princess. What else am I supposed to do?” He tries to retort but you can detect the grin in his voice. Even more humiliating, from your upside down position you are still able to spot the other males squirming to not laugh at your compromising position. 

“You are a mongrel of a man!” 

The scratchy venom of your tone is morphed into a surprised squeak when you are let back onto your feet. Regardless, you remain trapped in Neteyam’s arms as you are wedged between him and a pa’li. 

“Don’t waste your energy, tiyawn [love]. It will be at least a few more days before we reach Omatikaya soil.” 

They are surrounding you from every side. The five other males may wear amused expressions and appear to be enraptured in conversations with one another but you are no fool. These men are under Neteyam’s jurisdiction. At the first sign of trouble they will be snapping into action. Running now will only get you dragged back and fighting against Neteyam’s hold may get you flung into a humiliating position again. 

“At least let me have my own pa’li. I know how to ride.” 

Neteyam's chest heaves with the responding laugh that awakens within him. White pearly teeth on display, his amusement rises higher. Several of the others try and fail to not join in. It heightens your blood pressure until your face is hot to the touch.

“That’s a very good try, princess.” He beams, patting your hip. 

Neteyam unfortunately is not the fool you hope for him to be. Nor the arrogant alpha that would make the mistake of believing himself capable of catching you once you’ve set off on a pa’li. You’ve been riding since you were barely able to walk. The Omatikaya may understand the concept, but they hold not near the same precision and skill that your years of training have granted you. 

It’s a fact he seems acutely aware of because he doesn’t let you saddle up first. All it would take is a few seconds for you to make the bond and leave them in the dust. Instead, he hands you off to another male as he settles himself upon the creature and only after he has made the bond himself does he have you lifted to sit in front of him. 

By the time you settle around a fire for dinner and begin setting up camp, you can feel your eye on the verge of twitching. This journey has been nothing but painful and slow. So exceedingly slow. Although every step is one step further from your home that doesn’t erase the annoyance you feel at their painstaking pace. The only thing that stops you from snapping at them to hurry up is the hope that this extra time will help you come up with some sort of escape plan. 

It’s clear that your father’s remorse is far too sluggish for you to solely rely on at this rate, so it seems it is once again up to you to meet them halfway. 

However hatching up plans is exceedingly difficult when you have an alpha sculpted against your back, his essence clouding your mind and his eyes constantly peeking down at you as if he knows every thought swirling in your head. Try as you might, there is no reasonable way to veer away from his touch while riding the pa’li, at least not one that keeps you from developing excruciating back pain. 

Trying to set your inner turmoil aside, you focus on using this time away from the Omatikaya prince to properly set your head right. However, it seems Neteyam has different plans as he settles to lounge by the fire. He thanks one of the other males for a drink he is handed before his attention lands on you. 

“Come sit, princess.” He pats the spot beside him. There may be a warm smile to accompany his words but you know that it is nothing short of a command. The steely undertone of an alpha’s call reverberates in his tone. 

It locks your spine into a ramrod straight position and your tail already tries to tuck itself the longer you wait to obey. It’s irrelevant, however. You’ve become quite adept at pushing down your omega instincts in favor of following your own logic instead. 

With a smooth stroll and a feigned innocence to your smile, you maintain eye contact while making a show of sitting next to a different male across the fire. He’s a beta and your proximity immediately has him twitching. 

Neteyam’s golden eyes take on a darker hue, but he remains where he is. You’ve challenged his authority, in front of his men no less, but somehow you escape the night unscathed from his rath. Or so you think. 

It’s hard to say whether these sleeping arrangements are usual for the Omatikaya or rather just a setup meant for traveling. Either way, it is the most bizarre thing to sleep in a roll of fabric high up in the trees. Netyam claims it’s safer to stay off the ground during eclipse in the forest. A silly point truly when it’s just as dangerous, if not more likely, to turn over in your sleep and fall to your death. 

Climbing up to the hammock is all the more painful and terrifying than riding with Neteyam. He patiently trails behind, waiting and giving unwanted direction for your climb until you have finally cocooned yourself in the fabric. Still trembling but refusing to voice any complaints that could be mocked, you take a moment to catch your breath. 

That moment is exceedingly short.

The hammock suddenly swings and you look up to find the prince lowering himself down carefully from a branch above. 

“No no, absolutely not. This is my bed. Get out.” He chuckles as you try to push and swat at his muscular thighs but it’s no use when he is settled in the fabric a few seconds later. 

“Technically it is our bed.” 

“Then I will take my chances on the ground.” Your stomach somersaults at the thought of enduring the climb down. 

Comment ignored, Neteyam coaxes you to lay down before slipping himself behind you. You’re tempted to kick when he wraps an arm around your waist but the hammock is still swinging to a point of nausea. Best not to make it any worse. 

“You’re trembling, omega.” It’s murmured against the shell of your ear. There is no need to look down in order to confirm his assertion. How do the Omatikaya sleep peacefully up in the trees like this? You’ve never considered yourself to have a fear of heights but today has you questioning that assurance all together. 

“You look like you need someone to calm you down.” The palm of his right hand runs up and down the length of your arm, as if the transferring heat there would diminish your shivering. 

“What I need is a break from your pestering.” 

“I already gave you one.” His tale tickles at the back of your knee just as his accented voice deepens. “A break that I have still not received a thank you for.” 

“I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting, my prince.” You sneer. It wasn’t his decision to have you sit away from him during dinner. It was entirely your own and he is not about to receive acknowledgment as if he had any control over what you do. 

“I hope you know what you’re playing at, princess.” 

Those are the last words he speaks of the night and consequently the same ones that leave you restless and twitching. Sleeping like this is impossible. When you’re not worried about falling to your death you become acutely aware of every point of contact between you and Neteyam. His toned chest is like a bustling fire against your back. His tail at some point wraps around knee as if it belongs there. Even his silky ebony braids tickle at your neck, almost as bad as where his face tucks itself behind your ear. 

There is no forgetting who lays behind you. Sleep seems to never come because you are constantly trying to calm your raging heart and control the pheromones that threaten to slip into the air. That would wake him up far too easily. 

His breath is heavy, heartbeat consistent and strong from where it pounds against your back. You’ve been sure for a while now that he is fast asleep. Now is the time to make your move, but frozen you remain. Eventually you look down to find that your fingers have begun tracing the veins of his forearm as an anxious tick. 

Thank Eywa he seems to not wake up from the touch. Or perhaps it is the smooth caress that has coaxed him further into sleep. Either way, you hold very little hope of not only climbing down the trees without splitting your pretty head open but also doing so unnoticed. 

Sleep comes and goes along with the hours until waiting has wound you taunt. It is only a matter of time before the sun rises again and you’ve lost the window of opportunity. So with sweaty hands and a heart threatening to come up your throat, you cautiously slide yourself out from his hold. 

By some miracle it turns out that Neteyam is the deepest sleeper you have ever met, because even as the hammock sways from your climbing out, he simply lets out a sigh and turns his head further into the fabric. 

Scaling down the tree is a test in vigilance and patience. Every smooth breath you force yourself to take is a practice in these arts. Stubbornly you refuse to look down, knowing it will only bring forth nerve ridden mistakes. So with the pace of a snail you inch further and further down the trunk. 

You just need to make it to a pa’li.

That’s it. 

So close. So very close, you tell yourself, even as you know it’s a lie.

“What are you doing?”

Your breath catches in your throat, thighs tensing as you remember to still keep hold. Your muscles relax slightly, however, when you notice that the voice holds an Omatikaya accent but it is not Neteyam’s. The beta from dinner sits up in his hammock, eyes squinting at you through the darkness. Say the wrong thing and he is bound to sound the alarm. 

“You should not be out of bed.” He sighs. 

“I must relieve myself.” Biting your bottom lip you steer your features into confident defiance. “Or am I not allowed to do that too?”

The beta lets out a sigh and a curse you do not recognize. It must be part of the Sky People’s weird language. 

“Alright, I will assist you just wait for a moment.” 

“I don’t require an audience.” 

“But you do require supervision.” 

It’s difficult to argue when you remain clinging to a tree for dear life. So when the beta helps you make it down the tree foothold by foothold, there is nothing left in you to protest. Instead, you simply shift gears. 

“Be quick.” The male says, gesturing to a secluded spot behind thick bushes.

“It takes as long as it takes.” Head held high, you walk past him and into the bushes. Luckily the sounds of nocturnal creatures are loud enough to excuse why you are so silent in the bushes. Furthermore, it’s clear that male has at least some respect for your privacy as a woman when he doesn’t question again what takes you so long.

Those advantages aside, running now would still do you no good. He has steered the two of you further away from the pa’li and running on foot will only get you lost in this entanglement of greenery. And with a beta, one native to the area nonetheless, there is no chance of getting far. 

Lucky for you, there is always one sure fire way to disable a man without violence. 

“What did you say your name is again?” 

The beta straightens when you walk past him. 

“Um, I didn’t.” He picks up into a jog to catch up with your sudden retreat. Not a foot of space is granted between you two. He has grown suspicious. 

Shifting your long glossy hair over one shoulder, you look over at him with a subtle pout. “Well I don’t see how that’s fair. You know my name but I don’t know yours.” 

The beta doesn’t immediately melt at your softened composure like most males at home do. Rather he seems to clear his throat in discomfort before muttering out, “Ke’ve”

“Hm, Ke’ve.” You repeat back, as if savoring the taste of his name on your tongue. He’s nervous. No doubt, devoted to keeping his distance from the prince’s intended. There are ways to relax him, however. “Well Ke’ve, not every male is noble enough to lend his help in the middle of the night. You must know your presence has brought me great comfort out here.” 

His eyes scrunch but he doesn’t respond, perhaps unsure of what response would be safe. 

“You see,” With a sigh, you come to a halt. “I’m not very accustomed to feeling vulnerable. We are so far from home in a place I have never been but I still do not enjoy being seen as weak. So I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else but I feel as if I can trust you when I say,” You pause for dramatic effect and will tears to your eyes. “I’m scared.”

Were it an alpha, the essence of your fear would be enough to swoop you into their arms and make an oath of protection. Ke’ve on the other hand is a beta, so his response is more subtle. Yet just as promising when his expression falters and he looks on the verge of sighing again. 

“You are safe with us.” And as sure as the sun rises in the morning, so does that inevitable flash of concern spring forth. 

“I do feel safer with you.” Just a gentle brush of your fingers against his elbow. So subtle in wake of your shining vulnerability that he doesn’t shrug it off. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” 

A few stray pieces of hair fall over your cheek to frame your depiction of soft spoken innocence. You are perfectly poised like a flower ready to be picked, a delicate beauty that deserves to be protected at all costs. The same disposition that has had beta men falling at your feet time and time again. 

They are always enchanted by your demeanor. So much so that when the Olo’ekytan’s daughter suddenly spins the table so she is straddling their waist and taking control, they can’t help but hand the reins over. 

“Yes well you…you don’t need to worry.” Ke’ve’s eyes don’t hold the same snare that Neteyam’s do but you can already imagine how pretty they will look rolling to the back of his head when you have his cock in your mouth. Pleasure has a way of rendering a man defenseless, therefore giving you the perfect opportunity to carry out your plans. 

With the stealth and precision of a predator stalking its prey you snake your hand up his bicep and over one broad shoulder. Consequently it has your own face inching closer to his wrist where you sensually let his pulse point rub over your throat. It will leave the trace of his scent there, igniting a primal side of him that can be molded perfectly into your designs. “How can I repay you?” You ask, batting your lashes up at him as you begin the slow descent to your knees. 

But they never hit the ground. 

Sharp pain erupts along your scalp as a hand abruptly grabs a chunk of your hair at the roots. That hold is used to veer you back onto your feet and fall back against a warm chest. “I can think of a few ways.” 

Your carefully crafted composure shatters into a hiss as you try to recover from both the shock of being caught and the unforgiving grip Neteyam has in your hair. Even more so, the tingling sensation that brutal hold sends down your spine. 

“Ow! Let go!” 

“Tell the others I will be having a little talk with my omega.” Neteyam commands, ignoring your useless struggling. “You are dismissed, Ke’ve.” The beta doesn’t need to be told twice, already scurrying to get away. 

“Now let’s get you sorted out.” Still keeping his hand tangled where you try to dislodge it, Neteyam drags you further into the mysterious forest. You note that the distance, however, is not quite far enough to completely conceal your whining from the others. 

Feet stumbling once that hold is released, you find yourself unceremoniously deposited onto a large boulder. You can spot the cliff’s edge where it drops down into a waterfall and beyond is the rolling landscape of Pandora’s forest. The glimmer of eclipse is slowly shifting into the first ray of sunshine to cast over the horizon. 

“You just had to prove me right, tiyawn.” Neteyam tutts, squatting onto his haunches so that he is at your level. 

It takes considerable effort to get your brain back online and position yourself into a pose more flattering and fit for a princess. No male has ever handled you so roughly. They wouldn’t dare. But the sting of Neteyam’s tug on your scalp leaves a strange ache behind that has your mind reeling. Trying to put your confident mask back on, you fuss with your hair to get every strand back into place. 

“And you just had to act like a barbarian.”

“Did you really believe it was that easy to sneak away from me?” 

Your throat runs dry when you meet his eyes. This wasn’t a near successful escape, it was planned. One look at his face and it’s clear that he knew exactly when you left and exactly who was assigned to deter you. 

“Can’t a woman pee in peace?” You fumble out, making your last attempt at defending your story.

“I suppose not when it ends in you practically nuzzling at another man's tewng [loincloth] like a little slut.” 

Your jaw drops before you can stop it. Eyes ablaze and tail pointed on alert, you are tempted to throw caution to the wind and slap the alpha’s pretty face. No male, in fact no Na’vi, has ever used such a vulgar term to depict you. You’ve had your share of fun among the betas in your clan, but that makes you no less glittering of a gem. And certainly not a slut. 

“No man of honor would even think of using such a term, let alone directing it at me.” When you rise up to your full height, Neteyam stands in suit. “Is this why you asked for my hand? Any normal prince, especially the son of Toruk Makto, should have half the women in the clan begging to mate with him. But maybe even they could not see past your arrogant disrespectful bravado, so you had to travel to another clan entirely to find an unknowing prospect.” 

“Is that your theory?” Tone deceptively calm, the deep drag of his voice washes over you like silk. 

“You may think that you’ve conquered and can now return home with a pep in your step but no matter what you do, there will always be one truth that will haunt you.” 

You gulp down the lump in your throat when one of his long strides closes the distance between you. Regardless, you refuse to retreat. 

“And what truth is that, princess?”

Your wild eyes shoot to pierce through him. 

“That you chose wrong.” You let that statement hang in the air for a beat, hoping it will press down on him in the silence. However it is disappointment that lays a hold on you when his unreadable expression remains in place. 

“Is that so?”

He’s close enough to nearly feel the beat of his heart. 

“It may be your experience that omegas in your presence bow in submission and shudder beneath that charming grin, but I am not one of them. I am not subject to swooning for or baring my neck to any alpha. I am too independent for your tastes.” 

His chest vibrates with a deep chuckle, one that ironically holds no jovial warmth to it. Instead, paired with the sinful curve of his lips, it wraps thick tendrils around you that act as the calm before the storm. 

“You’re not independent, princess. You’re a spoiled brat.” 

He’s undeterred by your scoff or bat of your hands when he forcefully grasps your chin between two fingers. 

“When my father finds out what kind of man you-”

“Your father has done you a great disservice.” Two steps forward and Neteyam has successfully backed you up against the cool stone. “He has given you everything you’ve asked for, let you go entirely unchecked. We can place part of the blame on him for turning you into a spoiled little thing that thinks it only takes a bat of her lashes to get what she wants.” 

When your lips part to sneer a nasty comment at him, Neteyam swiftly presses his thumb over them. 

“It’s because of this spoiled attitude that you have not properly learned the pleasure of submitting to your nature.” He’s not trying to hide the shadow of his scent over you now, it circles you into a clouded dome. Leaning his head down, his lips just barely whisper against your own that are still trapped beneath his thumb. “You don’t understand the ecstasy of being tamed.” 

A warmth pools at the pit of your stomach. You recognize that feeling and what it means. Putting your desire to win this argument aside, it’s clear that now is the time to bow out before this escalates too far. 

“Get off.” At first it’s just a whisper. Then when Neteyam’s body remains curled over yours, rock hard and unmoving, your voice rises. “I said get off! You egotistical pervert!” Your cries don’t stop and neither does the useless rain of your fists against his chest. 

But then he is snatching your wrists and hooking a hand beneath your thigh to slide you up onto the rock. The stone is cold against your exposed back and ass, your tail becoming trapped beneath your own weight. Neteyam crushes all hope of sitting back up when he cages your smaller form with his own bulking frame. 

“Always have to make it difficult, don’t you, tiyawn?”

You fight the urge to squeeze the muscles beneath your captured hands when they land on his chest to push him away. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult if you just got off of my ass for once.” 

“Oh but princess that is exactly where I want to be.” That devilish grin is accented by a ray of sunlight painting his features. 

Without an inch of personal space it becomes aggravatingly obvious how gorgeous the man above you is. Neteyam is the perfect contrast of broad shoulders and a slim waist shown off by his beautiful woven battle band. His immaculate braids swing down across his cheeks and collarbones to frame his intense eyes, sharp jawline, and lips that were simply made to do sinful things. 

 Your reflection is cut short when a band begins to wrap around your wrists. Squirm as you might, Neteyam holds no sympathy for your protests as he expertly ties the appendages together. Empty threats. Cries for help. None of them make an ounce of difference. 

“Scream as much as you want if you’re that eager to give the others a show.” 

That shuts you up in an instant. It confirms your earlier observation of proximity and immediately has you playing back the conversation to guess how much of it that other males have already heard. 

“You’re a monster.” 

“Hm, and all yours, princess.” A wicked grin across his lips, Neteyam secures your bound wrists to a low branch over the rock. You’re left stretched out and trapped laying across the boulder beneath him. 

That cocky expression blanches its color once he draws his nose along your neck. The exact spot you had tricked Ke’ve to scent you. Your heart hammers on its own accord when Neteyam’s wicked smile drops. Mere seconds ago nothing had seemed more appealing than ripping apart the alpha with the lash of your tongue, but now something in you warns to stay still. To stay quiet. 

“I was going to wait until we reached Vitraya Ramunong [tree of souls], in light of tradition.” His breath is hot against your neck, a heat that travels like lava down to your very core. “But it seems my little brat can’t wait that long.” 

His teeth sink in without warning. It takes a moment for the shock to fizzle out and allow you to feel the pain. Neteyam’s teeth bite and capture the soft flesh there without mercy before his lips suck a dark spot directly over where Ke’ve’s scent used to be. 

Your spine arches, hips already bucking without your consent. The only response to your screams and squirming is Neteyam’s own hips pressing you back against the stone. He is ravenous. Biting, sucking, and licking at that one spot until the area has become desensitized to his ministrations. 

Your body has spiked from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds. Your head reels with the whiplash of having the male reprimand you one moment and the next sinking his teeth into a mark terrifyingly close to your mating gland. 

“Better.” Neteyam finally murmurs against your neck. He seals the mark with a deceptively tender kiss as you are left short circuiting. Your instincts flare, that primal part of your nature climbing out from under the rock you’ve kept it trapped beneath. 

“Are…are you insane? Biting that close-” 

“I won’t mark you there tonight, tiyawn. Want to be able to feel you through the bond when that happens.” A curved knuckle runs down your kuru, making your toes curl. “Once we are under the spirit tree together. There are still some traditions I’d like to keep.” He says with a grin that you could almost associate with a charming gentleman, not the same male that just savagely ravaged your throat like a predator of the night. 

“But we will need to find a way to get you to behave until then.” You can’t mirror the ease he feels as he speaks. It becomes clear now how dire your circumstances are. You had thought Neteyam wouldn’t dare to put a hand on you without permission but now he has proven to be more than willing to not only touch but leave marks behind. There is no telling where he draws the line. 

And you’re scared, just as you should be, but there is something else far more terrifying that plumps into your bloodstream. A dangerous intrigue that borders excitement. 

“How do you suggest we do that, princess?” 

No matter how hard you try, no humble response willingly bubbles to your lips. Neteyam is still an asshole, gorgeous or not. Alluring or not. No matter how tempting he may be, that doesn’t mean it’s worth exploring the mysterious punishment he has up his sleeve. And you…well you’re still pissed. 

“My behavior is nothing in comparison to yours. You-”

A hand comes down on the side of your ass hard enough to have you choking on those words. 

“You hit me!” Neteyam simply tilts his head at your accusation. 

“Good observation, tiyawn.” Not a hint of apology present. This man is not remorseful, he is proud. “If you keep running your mouth like that I will be forced to do it again. Knowing you, it won’t take long for me to tan that ass red.” 

Your father never spanked you as a child. It would break his heart to see his little girl cry the tears it would inevitably provoke. And with your dating experience exclusively being betas, no man has ever tried to right that wrong. Thinking of riding on a pa’li with a red ass now has fear jumbling threats past your lips haphazardly. 

“I swear on my-”

His right hand clamps over your mouth. The pressure is hard enough to have you whining beneath his skin. 

“That’s enough from you for now.” 

There is nothing left for you to do but watch. Body rendered immobile and now your last weapon at your disposal silenced, you are at the utter mercy of the prince. A mercy that does not appear to be afforded any time soon as his other hand trails down to start undoing the knots of your top. 

It shouldn’t be as scary as it is, watching string be string get unlooped as your crystal top begins to fall slack. However, this particular intimacy is one you are not accustomed to. 

It had started out as just a silly game you had played when you first started dating. Men were often foaming at the mouth to get a proper glimpse of your subtle breasts. It had been an immediate source of amusement as you’d seen how far they were willing to go for only a chance. And even more rewarding when you noticed how easy it was to never follow through with satisfying this desire. 

So it continued. It became somewhat common knowledge among your lovers, and any future interested prospects that you keep that part of yourself private. However, you hadn’t meant for it to go on as long as it did. Eventually you would cave to a worthy beta and watch him go feral, but that was before you discovered simply how sensitive your nipples are. It only took a few times of playing with yourself, brought on by your interest in nipple piercings, for you to see how vulnerable that area of you is. 

And now it is ironically Neteyam that uncovers that part of you.

He can sense the shift of your scent the moment it happens. With every tug on the feeble strings your essence takes on a darker hue. Pleasure and pain. Arousal and fear. These combinations are ones you have not been properly exposed to. Perhaps were it not for him, you would never have been humble enough to try them. 

The last undone tie allows the strung crystals to slide over the curve of your chest before dropping to the floor. What pretty little things you adorn yourself with, yet they do very little to protect you. Because it’s clear to him that in your eyes, protection is never needed. You can not fathom how much you have truly gotten away with.

Prancing around in your little outfits. Torturing men with what they want but can’t truly possess. Expecting the world to shift whatever way you desire with the wave of your hand. It’s laughable how you never imagined to face the consequences of such actions. 

You’re a haughty little thing just waiting to be put in your place. 

“My brat.” Neteyam smirks, leaning down to place a kiss at the slope between your breasts. Goosebumps ripple over your beautiful azure skin. It’s a visceral reaction to the smallest of his touches and it drives him near insanity. How perfect this pretty body of yours will be as a canvas for his marks. A vessel for his heir. 

Fuck, you are beautiful. 

Perhaps he can’t entirely blame you for being so arrogant. Your beauty is enough to hold a man captive with just a simple glance. And you’ve taken advantage of that far too many times. 

He allows himself to fall captive to it now. Unlike the others, he won’t need to starve after you once you’ve decided you’re done playing with him like a toy. No, you will be bound to him. You will belong to him completely. 

“So pretty.” He coos, his lips just barely painting over your right breast. When his bottom lip hover over your nipple he watches in awe as it hardens. “But you already know that, don’t you?” 

You’ve gone silent, but he can feel the stutter of your breath beneath his hand. It would be unfair to neglect the other side, so Neteyam takes his time showing your left breast the same gentle attention that has your other nipple following in suit. He’s heard of your reluctance to reveal such pretty breasts to your lovers, but he never imagined it would be due to such sensitivity. 

It’s like watching a flower bloom for him. The way you squirm and whine at even the drag of his eyes over your delectable form. Neteyam lets his hand slip from your mouth, no longer willing to explore only with his lips. 

His fingertips start a trail down by your navel and ascend up over your stomach and towards your chest at a slow pace. When he finally reaches to gently palm at your right breasts he feels your heartbeat pounding like a drum under his fingers. So many nights he has dreamed of touching you like this, rendering you utterly speechless before he has even started. Now as your lips part and breath becomes labored from his simple touches, there is no sight more delightful. 

You are perfect. You have an attitude that is in major need of fixing but even that is simply a beautiful challenge Eywa has created for him. The way you fit in his hands, gently massaging that supple flesh, it’s clear She crafted your body specifically for him too. 

The sun has finally breached the line of the horizon and now it sparkles along your chest in a dazzling show. The white crystals woven in your hair remind him of the halos worn by the angels his father has described. 

He applies more pressure with his right hand until the plump flesh is spilling between his fingers, giving him the perfect presentation for his salivating mouth. What starts out as an open mouthed kiss a few inches above your nipple quickly turns into sucking that flesh into his mouth until you are writhing. He groans at the sounds you make and when he pulls back to see the purple mark rising along your skin, the sight is enough to have him on the brink of purring in elation. 

Neteyam bends forward and starts crafting his brand on the other side so they are a matching set. This time he takes care in placing it further below your left nipple, at the crease where your stomach meets your chest. It will be difficult for you to find a top able to cover up this claim wrought by his teeth, a purposeful decision on his part. 

“Tey…mmm… teyam wait!” 

He grins at the cute nickname you’ve already coined for him, but that only buys you a few seconds before he is finally puckering his lips around one of your stiff points. The reaction is instantaneous, spine curving and a screech barreling up your throat. He doesn’t start off sucking too hard, instead just enjoys the way you feel in his mouth. Eventually, though, the whines you make are too decadent for him to resist making them ring louder. So he sucks harder at the little point and groans around the sensitive area so that it has vibrations shooting through you. 

“Finally being so good to me, tiyawn, aren’t you?” He says, taking a moment to release your nipple with an audible pop. “Laying yourself out for me to enjoy. I knew you could be a good girl.” 

You haven’t come to earn this praise yet, but it’s important to leave an alluring snippet that exhibits what could come if you only behave. As much as you may want to fight it, your nature won’t let you escape how good such praise feels. You are a stubborn woman but your body wants to submit to him. There is a part of you, no matter how deep you’ve buried it, that yearns to please your alpha. 

He snaps you back into the moment by softly closing his teeth around your left nipple. It takes a hand against your stomach to stop you from rolling onto your side and away from his soft torment. 

“It’s too sensitive! Stop!” Your pouted lips beg but your strengthening perfume gives your arousal away. Just as he figured, you’ve yet to experience how beautifully pleasure and pain intertwine. He rolls that bud sensually between his teeth before carefully giving it a tug. 

He alternates between tormenting your nipples and savoring the plush curve of your breasts with his hands and mouth. The skin is soft beneath his calloused palms. It has him wondering how it would feel to have that velvety skin squished around his cock and as he fucks your breasts. Neteyam swallows back the pooling saliva on his tongue, a string of it still connecting his lips to where he laid his last mark on your tits. It’s almost tempting enough to forgo his plans altogether and sate his lust driven curiosity, but Neteyam shakes it away.

The two of you will have plenty of time to experiment later. 

“Teyam, please no more. It’s too much!” Your pleas have died down in volume. Now they are coated with your labored breath as you try to control the pounding of your heart. 

“Too much, princess?” He questions and guides his hand down south to rest over your loincloth. “Or not enough?” When he cups your pussy through the fabric you roll up against him and chase whatever friction he is willing to give.  

It’s not nearly enough, he can tell from your disappointed expression when he pulls away entirely. Pupils blown wide and chest heaving to catch your breath, you remain silent as he reaches for the pouch attached to his tewng. 

Neteyam pulls out a line of woven crystals, much like the ones you wear in your hair but these were foraged from the caves near his home. There are fastens on either end of the chain that took far too much time for him to craft. 

“Is that for me?” Naturally you ask, that pretty face already showing how quick you are to forget what he was doing to you mere seconds ago once a shiny gift is presented. Neteyam fights the curve of his lips and keeps his every from rolling. Always so predictable.

“Just for you, princess.”

He had crafted it after his last visit to your village. Far before the Olangi clan thought the threat of Sky People was great enough to require protection but him and his father had been there to spread the news regardless. He knew before you even spoke that you thought the world was at your feet. Even the way you walked, spoke of a spoiled elegance. And when he had tried to sate his curiosity towards you with a conversation you were nothing but rude and spiteful towards him.

He knew then that you were going to be his, one or another. 

And so he started foraging for the crystals that first night back. 

“So pretty,” you murmur, voice airy. Those golden eyes narrow as you squint to look at it. Despite your current position and already wrecked voice, a sneaky little smirk forms over your lips. “But you miscounted. My hair is much longer than that.”

He lets you have your moment, watches as you grin up at him as if you have finally landed a critical blow. All for that to sizzle out when he bends down to whisper in your ear. 

“Who said anything about your hair?” 

The confused scrunch of your features doesn’t last long when he begins running the cool metal of the clamps up and down your right nipple. Nipple clamps are not a traditional erotic tool for the Na’vi so he’s certain you don’t believe your first instinct as to where that is going until he starts to pinch the right one to prepare it. 

“Neteyam, no! Get that away-” He clasps his other hand over your mouth again. Always the demands with you. Sooner than later you will learn that begging gets you a lot further with him. It’s a little trickier to prepare with only one hand available but Neteyam manages. 

The alpha plants a knee across your pelvis to keep you place while his right hand tugs at your nipples to confirm they are pointed enough to clamp onto. When the first clamp goes on your right nipple, your screeching goes up an octave. You know what to expect better when the left one is attached but that doesn’t diminish your reaction. 

Lovely little drama queen you are, the fit that follows is inevitable. He’s tested the clamps and consulted with several Sky People before deciding to use them on you so he knows there isn’t any real damage being done. Still, you are going to squirm and screech and, were it not for his hand, probably shout every insult you can think of at him, because you have never been punished like this. And your tantrums are what has worked for you in the past. 

He lets you fight it out as he holds you down. Neteyam doesn’t mind as it gives him time to admire his handy work. The chain of crystal connecting the clamps hang exquisitely between your curves. Those stiff points have turned a new shade of purple as they peek out between the clamp’s teeth. 

“Enough.” Neteyam finally quips back, tugging at the chain. A mix between a moan and groan rumbles from your throat. Once his hand has retreated he can hear the sound properly. Keeping his pointer finger curled around the crystal chain, the prince raises a warning brow at you. “Are you done throwing your fit?”

He watches your pupils dilate and lips curl into a pout.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like my gift?” 

“It hurts.” You whimper with a quivering bottom lip. It’s difficult to say how genuine the reaction is considering what a good little actress you are. 

He nods his head, mocking your pout with a feigned one upon his own lips. That only whips your stare into pointed daggers. 

“It’s supposed to, tiyawn. That’s why it is called punishment.” He kisses right above your left clamped nipple. “A term you may become very familiar with if you don’t fix your attitude.” 

Pulling back from where you glare, Neteyam settles himself beside you on his side. His left arm props against the rock to casually support his head while the right drags down your torso. The alpha’s ears perks at the little hiss you release when he just barely brushes the chain but he continues down south. 

Another time when the moon is still out he will kiss every little tanhi that dots your precious body until you cry for more. For now, he is only focused on one location. 

Neteyam can sense the heat of your core the second his fingertips slip beneath your loincloth’s waistband. You are soft and wet, just like he had imagined so many times. Flared nostrils greedily inhale your scent as he pauses to cup your entire pussy. Much like before, you can’t help but react to his touch. With a little more pressure in his firm hold, a trickle of wetness drops onto his palm. 

Fuck, you are inescapable!

You may believe he is to blame for this arrangement but the truth is you are the one that has trapped him since the moment he caught a whiff of your essence. It is him that has been utterly destroyed by his constant thoughts of you. 

“But I know that isn’t all there is to it, is there?” He continues, softly kissing your shoulder. “It’s not just pain you feel. There’s something else.” 

Your poor bottom lip has been utterly abused by your sharp teeth. Whatever sacrifice it takes for you to keep from admitting the truth to him. He discards your tewng with one hand. 

“A unique sense of-” He spreads your folds to suddenly massage your peeking clit with his pointer finger, stealing a gasp from you. “Pleasure.” Neteyam finishes with a grin. 

You turn to putty in his hands. The tension riddled along your muscles unravel as he rubs circles along your clit with just the right amount of pressure. When he clasps the chain between his teeth and tugs your eyes fly open, taking in your surroundings as if the pleasure has made you forget where you are entirely. 

“Can’t space out on me yet, princess. We still have more to discuss.” 

Talking appears to be the last thing on your mind, hips already rolling to hump against his hand. So close to the edge already that it causes a burst of pride to warm in his chest. Warm thighs bracket his hand as if afraid it will pull away at any moment. Smiling softly at the display, Neteyam smoothly covers your upper body with his own, nose to nose in a matter of seconds. 

There is nowhere for you to hide now, every microreaction bared for him. Those vibrant eyes remain locked on his own, but he catches the way they occasionally dart to his lips before returning. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Your lips against his are like decadent chocolate, the swirl of his tongue around your own is another burst of flavor he simply can not get enough of. And so the prince swirls the kiss into a languid roll of passion that leaves your lips ruby red and breaths coming out in puffs once he pulls away. 

His hand is drenched in your juices. So much so that when he switches to his thumb rubbing your clit and pointer finger tapping at your entrance, those soaking walls capture him at the first sign of intrusion. Your tight heat sucks in the first digit, pulsing around him greedily as your eyes roll back. 

Another tug to the chain and he has your attention again. 

“Let’s start with an easy question, tiyawn.” He starts. “What were you going to do to Ke’ve?”

Smart little thing that you are, or perhaps manipulative is a more accurate term, you act as if the pleasure has completely swept you away from understanding him. Beautiful little whimpers rumble in your throat and a look of pure lust crosses over your deceivingly innocent features. 

Neteyam isn’t willing to wait to see how you act your way out of this. 

His finger stops curling and thumb halts before his other hand pushes your thigh upward so that he can land a crackling spank to your ass. 

“Princess,” Neteyam drawls out in a mocking sing-song voice. “I’m running out of patience.”

The charade drops but your body trembles from the sudden lack of stimulation. 

“I was going to distract him.” It’s spoken so softly that his ears twitch and strain to make sure he hears you correctly. The finger inside of you restarts, curling up against your g spot while his thumb torments that bundle of nerves from the other side. 

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” He slots his face against the slope of your throat. The fragrance that is so uniquely you is especially strong here so there is no stopping the way his tongue naturally flicks out to draw a wet line from your collarbones to jaw. “Let me be more specific. How were you going to distract him?”

The context clues were clearly enough to put two and two together, but he still demands that you say it out loud. The first step to developing remorse is acknowledging what was done. 

When you take your time thinking up a strategic answer he cruelly pulls his finger out and jams a second one back with it on the thrust. Your toes curl and your face is turned to bury in your hair. 

“Princess.” 

No response, just a small whine as he scissor his long digits to stretch those velvet walls. 

“Were you going to suck his cock?” 

Your silence is rewarded with his hand stilling. The disappointment has your lips parting to no doubt say something far outside of a good girl’s vocabulary, but one raised brow has you falter in that decision. 

He twirls the middle of the chain around one finger so it is shortened and with each word he tugs it back sharply. 

“Were. You. Going. To. Suck. His. Cock.” 

“Ah mm Yes!” You gasp, eyes squeezed shut but pussy wildly pulsing around his fingers. 

“That’s what I thought.” He revels in the naive relief you exhibit when he begins his ministrations between your thighs again. How cute of you to think that a little truth would forgive your earlier sins. 

Neteyam prowls down your body, savoring the slide of your skin against his own until he is settled between your thighs that are now pushed over his shoulders and he has an unobstructed view of your greedy cunt. While diligently pushing you closer to an orgasm, the alpha takes special care to decide where his next visual claim will be laid. He decides on two spots. 

The first one is atop your upper thigh where it will be in clear view of anyone you come across and the second is harshly sucked into the sensitive flesh of your left inner thigh. 

“You will never walk upon Omatikay soil without my marks.” 

You don’t appear to hear him.

“Oh mm Neteyam…feels so good.” 

It might just be the first good thing you’ve said all day and his inner alpha purrs in deep satisfaction. Unfortunately for you, punishment comes before rewards. 

Retracting his hand entirely, Neteyam swipes the remnants of your sticky arousal over your inner thighs, painting his beautiful canvas. There is no time to complain at the loss before he is running the flat of his tongue from your convulsing pussy up over your clit and even navel. 

That wet muscle dances along and between your folds in practiced precision. Your essence tantalizes his very tastebuds until he is producing so much saliva that it is difficult to say how much of the wet mess at your apex is made from him versus you. He supposes in some ways he is responsible for both. 

The prince’s lips shine with the evidence when he pulls back to speak. 

“Do good girls do that?”

“Huh…what?” 

“Do good girls try to suck cocks that are not their alpha’s?” He reiterates, weaving a firm steel into his voice. 

“I…uh…no,” Comes your timid response. 

Those thick lashes flutter when he returns to feasting on your delicious cunt. It only lasts for a second, however, before he is speaking against the soft skin of your thighs. 

“That’s right, tiyawn. Good omegas know who they belong to.”

Your body jolts as if stung by lightning when his thumb rubs at your sensitive nub again. He can see it in your face now. His omega is just barely tipping on the edge of release. 

“So what do you think you should do about it?”

Breath borderline erratic the muscles in your legs tense in anticipation of that wonderful release. The same one that he roughly rips away when you don’t respond, not daring to even breath across your cunt. 

“No no please! I’m so close! Just a little longer. I wanna come!” 

“What do you think you should do about it?” Neteyam repeats, tampering down the smirk that threatens to cross his lips when he sees the way you whine and tugs at your bonds. 

“For…for what?” You’re so genuinely confused he has to hold back a coo at how adorable you look. 

“What do you think you should do to make up for trying to suck his cock?”

That little head of yours is working overtime to craft an intelligent response. It becomes all that much harder when he starts playing with your clit again, keeping you tantalizingly close to the edge but never over. 

“I…I could…I..”

“Yes?” Neteyam considers himself very patient but he is forced to halt his touch when you take too long to respond and get far too close to coming. 

“No wait! Why did you stop?” Your foot stomps against the rock like the spoiled brat that you are, so utterly confused and crestfallen at being denied for the first time. Has any male ever even tried to edge you? If your response is anything to go off of, it’s clear that he will be the first to teach you the joys of orgasm denial too. 

“Answer my question, oeyӓ tiyawn [my love].” 

Frustrated tears run from the corner of your eyes and this time Neteyam is positive they are genuine. Your little pout is broken by sharp teeth torturing your bottom lip again while you try to get a hold of yourself to respond properly. 

“I…I could suck your cock.” It comes out almost as a question but the prince is eager to take it. 

“There you go.” He hoists himself up to deposit a kiss on your lips before shrinking back down and continuing a very special kiss between your legs. Your pretty thighs immediately clamp around his head, shaking so hard he can feel the vibrations. As much as he wants to taste your release properly he can’t pass up the opportunity to see your face for the first time as you come.

So the alpha escapes the cage of your thighs and replaces his tongue with skilled fingers the fuck up into your pussy and play with that precious bundle of nerves. He kisses his way up your body, this time being mindful of the crystal chain, until he is nuzzling against your cheek. The woodsy essence of his own scent will integrate there, letting everyone know that you have been claimed. 

“Such a smart girl my omega is. So good for her alpha.” 

That is your undoing. Like a woven tapestry he watches you unravel into an explosion of pure ecstasy. All of this time you’ve denied yourself the wondrous caress of an alpha’s praise. It’s left you with no defenses once finally showered with his sweet words. Neteyam groans deeply beneath your whiny scream, savoring the way his hand is now properly drenched as he rides you through the orgasm. 

You don’t register when Neteyam pulls away. In fact your head is so high above the clouds that it’s only when your hands drop like a dead weight against the boulder that you realize Neteyam has cut your bonds. 

It feels as if the world is a hazy blur of color, everything so vibrant and wondrous as you come down from that high. Even the simple kisses Neteyam gives to each of your wrists feels like drinking sunshine. In fact it is so incredible that you instantly crave more. 

More of him. 

More of this electric pleasure.

Anything and everything that has brought you into such a happy state. 

However, when the prince comes to carefully help you off the boulder and back onto your feet, it’s suddenly clear what it will take to get another taste of cloud nine. And in this case, that means tasting him. 

Neteyam hardly needs to prompt you onto your knees. Whatever is brewing inside of you is now your new addiction and somehow being at eye level with his crotch has never seemed more appealing. Your alpha wants you to atone for your sins, perhaps then he will grant you another orgasm. Well if taking him down your throat is redemption then you are going to be good at this game. 

Past experience is the foundation of your confidence. 

Hands still shaking with aftershock, they fumble to get a hold of his tewng. You’re about to catch hold of the waistband and simply rip the fabric down when strong hands catch your wrists. You look up at him in bewilderment. What type of man stops a woman on her knees second before he is about to get his dick sucked?

“We’re not going to do this your way, princess. If you want to make it up to me then you will learn to follow my instructions.” 

In some ways it’s borderline insulting. What is wrong with the way you suck a male off? No man has ever complained. And if they did, how would Neteyam even know? He’s never experienced nor witnessed what you do. But of course as an alpha he must believe he knows best. 

Typical.

Those thoughts don’t bubble into words, however, because as much as you would like to prove how fucking fantastic you are all on your own, you don’t want it more than another orgasm. Preferably by the means of his skilled tongue.

When he drops your wrists you shift uncomfortably, both impatience and the tight press of the clamps around your nipples creates the undeniable need to squirm. All while Neteyam simply watches you from above, perfectly calm and entertained by your position. 

That is until you go to shift the clamps and your wrists are immediately snagged again. 

“Did I say you could touch that?” He asks, that smooth voice taking on a smoky edge. Just when you are about to pout, however, Neteyam pulls your hands to place them along his upper thighs. You don’t need to be told twice. Running your hands along the smooth skin and squeezing the corded muscle there is a nice enough distraction to silence your objections. 

That is, until a new distraction presents itself. 

His long fingers carefully start to undo the ties of his tewng. Done at such a leisured pace it’s obvious he is determined to torture you, even pausing at one point to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before finally lets the cloth fall away. 

Excitement quickly mingles with apprehension when you see what you are faced with. 

Beta males have always satisfied you with their size, just enough to make you choke a little and hit that special spot inside of you. However, you’ve forgotten entirely what it means to be with an alpha. Neteyam’s cock curves up against his lower abs, fully hard and already sporting a drop of precum. But even the thought of fitting your mouth around that bulbous head, let alone trying to get the massive length down your throat makes your ears begin to twitch. 

All confidence quickly drains from your face. 

“Are you ready to listen now?” 

Finally peeling your gaze away from his twitching cock, you look up at him to see him staring down at you with the same intensity. 

“Yes.” You whisper, suddenly grateful for promised instruction now that you’ve been properly thrown for a loop. Perhaps you should have branched out to fucking with alphas at least once, just to know the difference properly. Because now you feel like a proper virgin waiting for their first lesson on giving a blow job. 

Surprisingly there is one feeling that rises higher than your trepidation.

Curiosity. 

Somehow the challenge before you sparks a further interest. A need to map out every part of his body until it has become less mysterious. Until it feels familiar beneath your hands.

And as if Neteyam can read your thoughts, he says, “You can explore now, tiyawn. Take your time.” 

Take your time. Not the direction you would expect from a male whose cock is fully hard and jerking against his lower stomach. You had thought all alphas to be forceful, wanting to claim and fuck in a quick and dirty fashion. But Neteyam stays true to his word when your hands slowly travel up his thighs. 

You are given more than enough time to familiarize yourself with the area. You start small, running the pads of your fingers down his muscular abdomen to feel each and every muscle there. Then once a little bit of confidence has been regained they come to rest around his base. 

The dark blue shade of his skin elegantly bleeds into a beautiful purple the closer to the tip it goes. All to then end on a subdued shade of pink along his head and balls. Even without the moonlight you can make out the small tanhi that dot along his skin. They lead along the side, creating a trail beside the thick vein lacing the underside of this cock before fanning out around the tip. As if they were perfectly crafted to entice your eyes towards the prize. 

Neteyam’s tail lashes the first time you run your fingers over him. His arousal is an essence that infiltrates the very air around you like a thick cloud. Surely he must be anxious for you to hurry up, but the prince keeps his body strictly in place for your exploration. 

It is only when he catches your tongue swiping over your bottom lip that he speaks up. 

“You can use your tongue, tiyawn.” With an inaudible gasp you pull back in surprise, practically forgetting he was there. An amused grin shows off his pearly white teeth, never faltering as you hesitate for a moment. “Are you feeling shy, princess?” 

“No.” You bite back even as your stomach does a somersault. 

“Remember, I will guide you. No need to stress.” His fingers run through your scalp and in spite of how good that feels you rear back and glare at him. 

You don’t need help. And you sure as hell are not shy. So what if you are a little caught off guard? That does not give him the right to treat you like an omega virgin ripe for the picking. 

So you draw forward and boldly draw the flat of your tongue slowly from the base to tip. Much like he had done between your own thighs. Because much like him, you are not afraid and you are not one to hand the reins over easily. 

What you do not anticipate is how the taste of him blossoms over your tastebuds. It sends a thrill through you that is difficult to conceal as you go in for another taste. It gets sloppy very quickly. The moment you try to take the head into your mouth, your nerves get the better of you and that ends up making you draw back. 

Just in time as Neteyam slots a hand in your dark locks and grabs hold of the roots. “Why are you rushing, omega?” 

“I am not.” 

“Follow my directions. No need to prove yourself.” He says, but he already wears a crooked smirk. 

It continues like this back and forth until you are finally tired of having your head yanked back by your hair so you wait for his instructions. Neteyam is meticulous in the way he has you explore, the way he forces you to taste him before even giving you the chance to take him into your mouth. 

But when you do finally take in the first few inches your inner omega springs forth without reserve. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as they slip past your outstretched lips. And that stretch, that utterly deniable feeling of being stretched full, is what has you drawing in for more. 

Before now being on your knees has always felt like a place of power. You’ve riddle men down to whimpering messes just by the skilled trace of your tongue. You’ve swallowed everything they’ve had to give while they’ve sung curses to the sky. It is them that is rendered entirely insatiable as you hold their pleasure in the palm of your hand. 

It doesn’t feel that way now. 

It’s hard to determine what he awakens within you but every time you are pulled off of his cock and told to take a moment to breathe, it is you that feels insatiable. You figured it would get better once Neteyam fell deep enough into his own ecstasy but somehow the evidence of his pleasure only escalates your own addiction. You can never get enough of him. 

Never will you tire of seeing his magnificent neck on display when he throws his head back with a rumbled groan. Never will you suck down the taste of him enough to satisfy your carnal desires. And never will there be a more magnificent feeling than the wash of his praise over you as your throat contracts and you gags around him. 

It is him that leaves you ravenous. 

“All the way down now, princess. That’s it, you can take it.” 

You’d take just about anything this man says at gospel at this point. A fact that is evident by the way you no longer hesitate to sheath him down your throat when commanded. And when those sinfully gorgeous hips start to move, you fight every need for breath and simply let him fuck your throat without complaint. 

In fact it is you that complains when you are given a chance to breathe, tears streaking down your face and drool coating your chin. 

“No whining.” Neteyam tsks, wagging a finger playfully. It would normally piss you off but now it only registers as the absence of praise. So when he continues to the pattern, moaning and bucking his hips only to pull off seconds later, you bite back the urge to cry and beg for his cum. “Just get me wet, princess. Tongue out. There you go.” 

It makes no sense, but then again that seems to be the theme when it comes to Neteyam. He demands you suck him off only to deny you the pleasure of feeling him shoot down your throat. Your pretty face is nothing but a mess of tears and spit when he finally rears you back for the last time. For a moment it seems possible he will jerk himself off and finish across your face or pinched nipples but his next direction has your tail tucking. 

“There’s my good girl. Now stand up for me.” 

“Neteyam.” You whine but he is quick to grab hold of that crystal chain and force you to your feet as your nipples ache. 

“Are you still wet for me, omega? Spread your legs.” He slides a hand between your thighs to inspect the evidence of just how aroused you truly are. “Very good girl.” He grins against your ear, as if he didn’t already know how desperate he has made you. 

It’s only a second of attention to your clit before he is taking your hand and dragging you through the forest. 

Neteyam has always been known for being meticulous. Or in Lo’ak’s words, obsessive. He has lived his life with a plan and great attention to detail. So when he has you following him, your hand in his own, he can’t help but look for the perfect spot to take you. The ideal place where he can admire you spread out for him and finally experience what it is to be inside of that sweet little body. 

He’s pleased to find you put up no fuss when he coerces you onto your stomach with your face down and ass up. In fact, your spine curves as you look back at him, a seductive gleam in your eyes that says you are still not above playing games to get what you want. 

“M’ready.” You sigh against the grass, tail curling upwards to give him access. It may as well be the equivalent of snapping your fingers in a fetching command. Regardless, Neteyam decides to let you off this time, especially when you are creating the most gorgeous display for him. 

Your pussy clenches around open air, your cunt an absolute mess that has dripped down between your thighs. There is no mistaking what you want. 

But that doesn’t mean that is what you’re going to get. 

You don’t immediately react when he uses both hands to knead and spread your plump cheeks apart, but when he begins to push a finger at your tightest hole, you squeak and draw back. With a stern hand gripping your hip he pulls you back against him where he kneels. Tentatively you trust him once more only to squirm when he only sticks his fingers into your pussy in order to collect your slick arousal and spread it between your cheeks. 

“Neteyam!”

“Mawey, princess. You’ll like it, I promise.” And you will, despite your better judgment. 

“No, not there!” Were it not for the hazy glow he has you in now you surely would claw his eyes out for even suggesting such a thing but with his thumb reaching down to rub at your sensitive clit, your defenses are greatly weakened. 

“And why not, tiyawn?”

“I want you to fuck me.” You drawl with a whine. 

“And I am.” Neteyam slinks up so his chest is pressed against your back, pushing away your hair so he can whisper in your ear. “I am going to fuck my spoiled brat until the only words she can manage to utter are thank you and my name.”

You sputter at his sensual words, pussy trying to clamp around the finger that swirls through your juices. 

“But that’s…t-that’s not what I mean.” 

“Are you nervous, tiyawn?”

“N-no.”

“No male has ever tried to stretch this little hole before, have they?” 

You simply attempt to tuck your face away from him as it turns a lovely shade of red. Neteyam grins and kisses your cheek. 

“I am going to take every first you have left, princess. I will fuck all of your holes over and over again, including this naughty little hole.” A shudder ripples through your trapped frame. “Your greedy pussy too but the first time I do that we will bonded beneath Vitraya Ramunong so until then…” He grips your hip to keep you in place when his lubed finger finally starts pushing past that clenching rim.

“Breathe oeyӓ tiyawn.” He hushes your whines. It takes considerable effort to coax you into relaxing for him but Neteyam finds that the right amount of praise and gentle kisses seems to get the job done. 

Fuck, you are so incredibly tight! It feels as if you are trying to cut off the circulation in his fingers as he adds another. His heart races at those pulsing walls around his cock. You do nothing to aid his patience as little pants filtering from your lips and soon your eyes are fluttering closed. 

You won’t want to admit it, but this new pleasure has you entirely hooked. A strange sensation no doubt, and even uncomfortable at times he can tell as you struggle to take a third finger but so too do you eventually start pushing your hips back against the intrusion. 

Holding you in place is no longer required, allowing his other hand to slip to the front of your body and resume strumming your clit. Grass becomes intertwined with the sparkling crystals in your hair due to the way you keep turning your head to whine and squirm. 

“I wish you could see how perfect you look like this. Sweet little ass sucking in my fingers like it was made for this. I knew I’d see you like this someday, my pretty brat learning to behave.”

“F-fuck you.” You sputter.

Neteyam can’t even find it within himself to be mad when you are clenching around him like this. He’ll take care of that naughty mouth soon, but for now he is content to focus on making your body fully submit to him. 

“As you wish, omega.” 

The prince pulls his fingers out and makes sure to spread more of your natural lube over his cock. He feels like he could bust any moment just looking at your hole clenching at the loss. The gleam in your eyes when he lines the head of his cock up to your tightest hole gives him all the information he needs to know. 

“Teyam!” You gasp just before his head makes it past the entrance. 

“Doing so good for me, omega. Stay nice and relaxed.”

“It’s not going to fit.” The protest is greatly undermined by the way your pussy leaks juices down your thigh. 

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make it fit.” 

And true to his word, Neteyam patiently rears forward and rubs sinful circles over your clit until his pelvis is cushioned by your plush ass. 

“Oh my Eywa!” You quiver, thighs no longer doing the work to keep you up. 

“What was it you said about getting off your ass?”

“You fucking…Oh…asshole.” Your insults are barely tangible as he begins with shallow thrusts. “Oh my…oh…aahh.”

“Different than you thought, isn’t it?” He smirks, but even he has to close his eyes and take a moment to breathe. Your walls cinch around him so tightly it feels as if you're trying to strangle his cock. Even his shallow thrusts take considerable effort, even more difficult not to prematurely fill you with his seed every time those gummy walls pulse. “Deep breathes. Let yourself enjoy it.” 

“M-more.”

His ears perk, wondering if he has misheard you.

“What was-”

“More! Move now! Move fucking now I swear-” The air is punched from your lungs when he harshly rears back to the tip before plunging himself all the way inside again. The noise that escapes you is one he has never heard before and he knows for a fact that it rings loud enough through the trees for the others to detect. 

Grasping a handful of hair he pulls you up onto your knees so that your back is flush against his chest. From this vantage point he can see the crystal chain sparkling in the sunlight. 

“Is that any way to ask for what you want?” He rumbles against your ear. 

The sound of clapping skin echoes through the forest as you eagerly push yourself back against his now brutal pace. 

“Teyamteyamteyam,” Comes your endless spew, head thrown back against his shoulder. He’s too lost in his own ecstasy to chew you out for not answering his question. Instead he roughly manhandles you off of his cock and pushes you to lay down on your back. 

“But-”

Legs thrown around his waist he sinks back inside to the hilt. “You need to learn some fucking patience, princess.”

“I’m sorryyyyy!” You drawl but those little hands are already grasp at his biceps, demanding that he slots himself closer. Looking down he swears he can practically see his cock moving in your stomach. 

“How are these pretty tits doing, hm?” Swooping down, he leaves sloppy kisses around your secured nipples, groaning when your fingers claws at his hair to pull him closer. “Tell me the truth now, princess. Tell me how much you love me my cock in your ass.” 

He knows you're far gone when a response comes back without any fight. “I love..ngh..ah…I love your cock in my ass. Don’t stop, alpha. Pleasepleaseplease.” 

“Take a breath for me.” He commands softly and the second you comply he undoes both claps in tandem. In some ways he has heard that taking them off is more painful than putting them on. If that is true, you must have a secret love for such pain because you bare down on him so hard that it takes everything within him not to bust inside of you. 

“Fuck!” You curse, yanking him down impossibly closer. “Neteyam!” 

“Good girl, princess. My good girl.” He murmurs between sloppy kisses laid on your chest. He licks gently over your pointed nipples in efforts to soothe them. 

Neteyam’s own patience is quickly unraveling but he wants to come in time with you. He wants you to squirt across him as he paints your walls white. So with his own breaths coming out in pants and hips ricketing at a desperate speed, he reaches between you and assaults that little bundle of nerves. 

“Come on, brat. Do as you're told for once and come for me.” 

You steal the very air from his lungs. Your silky walls milk him dry as you come around him. Stars dot his vision and his abdomen flexes at the pure pressure of his own release. He spills himself inside of you as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. 

When he finally does come down from that high, your grip won’t release. His name is a whispered mantra on your lips as you pull his heavy body atop of yours. He falls without resistance, crushing you beneath him. 

You’re overwhelmed. It makes him both proud and spiteful that no other male has truly managed to get you into this floaty state before. From the way you claw at him as if he is the very oxygen you rely on, it’s clear you don’t know how to handle such new intense emotions. To think you’ve gone so many years without truly satisfying your omega. 

“I’ve got you, omega. Your alpha’s here.” He tries to prop himself up on an elbow to relieve some of his body weight from you, but that has your panic rising. With an endless draw of sweet nothings he presses himself back down just in time for your lips to demand his. 

That anxiety gradually smoothes away the longer he indulges the impromptu makeout session. When his tongue swirls around yours, your movements become more leisurely. Even the very nature of the kiss becomes lazy while you softly play with his neat braids. 

“Teyam…”

“Yes princess?” He checks to make sure your breathing has finally turned back to normal after pulling away. 

“I’m ready to sleep.” You say as a matter of fact. 

“No tiyawn we still-” It’s too late. Chest somehow managing to rise and fall beneath his weight and eyes fluttered closed, you are dead to the world. Very typical fashion for you to simply state your wants as reality without waiting for any protests. 

He rolls his eyes fondly before carefully situating both of you onto your sides. His legs feel like thin vines walloping in the wind. Neteyam has to hold back a groan when he finally manages to slip out of you. Bathing in the sunlight with you tucked against his side, he allows himself one moment to recover and bask in the feeling. 

And when that moment is gone, he does everything in his power to dress and clean up both of you without disturbing your slumber. Your hair is still tangled and the echoing screams are sure to be enough evidence of what has happened between you two but when he walks out carrying you bridal style, he playfully glares at the other males who are anxious to make their teasing comments. They will beat him up about it later, for now it is important that you sleep. 

With narrowed eyes and a hiss he demands their silence before he situates you in front of him on the pa’li. Facing sideways on the horse you snuggle closer in your sleep, body shivering. You only wake for a second so that he can slip his thick poncho over the both of you. This way you are kept warm and eyes are shielded from the sun as you sleep.

“Well?” Tak’nal, his second in command, asks with a raised brow. 

“Problem solved.” Neteyam says simply. “Let’s go home.”

Writing this felt like a fever dream😂🫠 Please don't be shy, let me know what you think😚💗

Unofficial Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ikeyniofthetayrangi @plantgirliewholovespandora @nakedinthetrees

[malereadermaniac]

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ Forced Mate - Alpha Zenin Naoya x Omega Male reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Plot: Naoya had the privilege to choose his Omega - your relationship with the heir after an arranged mating and marriage has many ups and downs

Featuring: Top!Alpha!Naoya x Bottom!Omega!Reader

Note: Not watched JJK, probably OOC!!

Warnings: Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

As expected by anyone who knew him, Naoya of course presented as an Alpha; and as the golden child of the clan, his father set out to find him the perfect mate as soon as possible. Naturally, this proved easier said than done. Naoya had been an egotistical narcissist since he was barely walking, he demanded that his opinions and choices be taken into account on the hunt for his mate, and hell did he have many opinions...

'A woman who doesn't know how to walk three paces behind her husband should be stabbed in the back'

Zenin Naoya was a known sexist. Once he had presented as an Alpha, many thoughts ran through Naoya's head; 'this was expected' - 'of course I'm an Alpha' - 'been stronger than these betas since I was a kid'. But also, after many self-indulgent and boastful thoughts, Naoya also thought 'Thank fuck I don't have to knock up some bitch'. The youngest heir of the Zenin clan was a fucking misogynist, getting a man pregnant seemed like a much sweeter deal than having to deal with a woman as his mate.

So, whilst his father was busy organising match-making meetings and courting hours for his son, Naoya was busy rejecting every single Omega brought to him; because of course, they were all female. The Zenin clan were still traditionalists, if Naoya was to mate with an Omega, that Omega was to at least be a woman. But as you'd expect, Naoya couldn't give less of a fuck about what the clan wanted. He only cared about himself. So once his father eventually gave in and began matchmaking the blonde with male Omegas, Naoya had made his choice. You. And what an honour you would find out this was (or rather quite the opposite). You had caught the Alpha's eye almost immediately after walking into the room. You had aristocratic blood, had undergone etiquette and submission training, you were healthy, and you had so many more 'appealing' qualities for an Omega; but Naoya cared for none of that. The brooding Alpha made most of his decisions on instinct and feeling alone, and it helped that you were quite the head-turner in the looks department. So the decision was made rather quickly. You were to be mated and married to the Zenin clan heir.

You thought you knew what you were in for. Being born into a powerful clan but presenting as an Omega meant one thing; you were a bartering piece, something to marry off in order to establish political relationships. Ever since you presented as an Omega, you had undergone many types of training to become the ideal mate, and you thought that you knew what to expect when it came to how an Alpha would treat you; badly. But boy did you underestimate just how bad it could get. After all of the contractual and political work was out of the way for your arranged marriage, you were immediately moved into the Zenin residence. You had your own room; small but not as crummy as those of the servants. Whilst Naoya viewed you as above all women, he still viewed you as less than any man due to your secondary gender, meaning that he wouldn't share his chambers with you, he wouldn't acknowledge you romantically; you may as well be his live-in prostitute... The night of your moving-in, the two of you were expected to mate; as in, you were expected to submit to Naoya and allow the Alpha to mark you. It was a hard night for you, the hardest by far. Naoya was an impatient man, a selfish man who cared only for his own pleasure, and even worse for you, a sadist by all means. You were in immense amounts of pain that night, the Alpha forcing his way inside of you and drilling into you the whole night; your screams and whines of pain egging him on, turning him on. Your body was covered in bite marks and hickeys, your nape permanently marked by Naoya; your now mate forever, your Alpha.

It did get better though. With time, Naoya began to tolerate you. Most of your interactions did of course still take place in his chambers; you would visit your Alpha's bedroom almost every single night at his request, leaving in the early hours of the morning back to your chambers. Naoya acknowledged you now though: a chuckled scoff when passing you in the gardens, allowing you at his dinner table, calling for you when he was bored. Of course, Naoya never spoke your name, he often had to be reminded of it by his advisors, he would instead call you 'Omega'; but weirdly, that was enough for you. You also couldn't complain about the sex! He may be a maniac, but Naoya sure does know his way around your body. The Alpha knows how to rut into you in ways that make you writhe and scream in pleasure, he knows how much pain you can take to where you aren't in agony, but you do cry out his name and shed a few tears; he knows you, and that's a lot coming from such a self-absorbed man. Naoya loves it when workers walk in on the two of you fucking; he acknowledges whoever walked in, but he doesn't stop whatever it is he's doing to you. Whether it be his fingers curling into your slicked hole, his tongue forcing your tight walls apart, his hand forcing your head up and down his length, or his dick visibly thrusting in and out of you, Naoya never lets an unexpected audience prevent his pleasure.

The Alpha would never admit it, too proud and narcissistic, but there are things he likes about you. Hell, Naoya fucking loves certain things about you. The blonde goes absolutely feral for your scent, demanding that you scent his room bi-weekly to "comfort his inner Alpha". Naoya will hold you closer while he fucks you, just to get more of your intoxicating, sweet scent. He'll even use your scent as an excuse to have you sleep in his bed; claiming that a mate's scent helps an Alpha sleep. That's another thing he's come to like - sharing his space with you, more specifically his bed. Naoya has become unable to sleep in an empty bed. He'd never admit to missing your weight beside him, to missing the scent of your hair as you curl into his muscular body; but Naoya knew deep down that he loved having you around. But again, the Alpha refused to vocalise his liking of you; you just had to assume from his actions that your Alpha didn't seem to mind you as much as he used to.

Naoya's ruts are another key part of your relationship with the Alpha. Knowing how he is when in his right mind, you can imagine how Naoya behaves during a rut. The man is a fucking menace. Your body usually goes limp from suffering multiple orgasms without breaks in between. Hickeys and deep bites always end up littering your body. Naoya's body glistens with a sheen of sweat as his muscles flex and tense after what must be ten orgasms in one night; the endurance and stamina of Alphas is a medical phenomenon. Naoya loves to be as close as physically possible to you when in rut, pushing his body down onto yours as he drills his thick, long cock in and out of your warm, tight hole. You switch positions many, many times in one night during one of Naoya's ruts; a favourite of his seemingly being speedbump, but with his muscular arm around your neck, your cheeks squished by his bulging bicep as the Alpha pounds you into the bed with a ridiculous amount of force. Usually, Naoya is talkative when messing around with you, loving the sounds you make and your squirms at his dirty talk, but a rut fully takes it out of him; all of the man's energy going to fucking, with none to spare for any words other than 'Omega' and 'mine'. That's another thing about his ruts, Naoya becomes extraordinarily possessive during them! During pre-rut, Naoya will have anyone who dares speak to you locked away for a week! The blonde has to always have some form of physical contact with you during his pre-ruts and becomes much less of a cunt; showing a more endearing side of himself when he demands to cuddle you and be around you constantly. During Naoya's full ruts, he never allows you to leave his side. The man could be dead asleep and if you get up to clean up or grab some water, he wakes up within seconds and grips your wrist as tight as he can, looking up into your eyes with his own, dark, brooding ones.

Your heats are a completely different story. Naoya is his usual self times ten! Such a fucking sadistic tease. He refuses to touch you where you want him to, going as slow as possible, and making your big, pretty eyes pink up with tears. You end up begging, pleading, crying mess before his dick gets anywhere near your ass! Your Alpha's fingers do most of the work for your first couple of orgasms, his mouth moving from your nape, to your scent gland for a hit of your hypnotic, sweet smell. Until you're screaming out incoherent pleas and 'Alpha' s, Naoya doesn't allow you the pleasure of fucking you to heaven and back; but damn, when you finally cave in and beg like a pathetic bitch (his own words), your world shatters. During your average heat, Naoya will make sure that you're writhing in pleasure beneath him as he roughs you up; the Alpha's eyes locked onto your immensely pleasured form, watching and admiring how physically and mentally overwhelmed you seem with pleasure, pleasure that only Naoya can provide for you. Kisses are a lot more common when you're in heat. Naoya knows that you are too dazed from the hormones running rampant throughout your body and brain to remember almost anything from your heat; so he lets some affection show here and there. His kisses are tender. So soft and even to an extent loving. The blonde fucking loves to interrupt your moans and desperate panting with a kiss, turning the moment of primal desire into a romantic one; the juxtaposition kinda turns him on, and it most definitely helps you with your heat! Naoya's kisses go right to your brain (dick), your inner Omega screaming in pleasure at the sign of affection; subconsciously understanding the kiss as 'my Alpha loves me', 'my Alpha cares'. And even though he would never admit it, Naoya did care about you.

Many months go by after your first night with your Alpha. A weird, but comfortable relationship blooming between you and Naoya. But this was an arranged marriage, the key word being marriage. So of course, Naoya's father pushed the two of you to get married as soon as possible. And the demands kept coming from the Zenin clan... House work. Resigning from your career. Submission. Children.

The Zenin clan needed an Heir; one that would take over even after Naoya. And you were expected to provide that. On the one hand, as an Omega, you did naturally crave having children in your life; caring for pups came naturally to you. But holy shit was it insulting. To be told to your face that you were good for nothing other than producing offspring; really knocked you down a few pegs. So much so that Naoya even noticed; he didn't like it. He liked that you usually had some fight in you; normally, you would clap back at him when he was being a cunt, and you would knock him down a few pegs. But after his father basically called you a breeding cow, you stopped being... interesting.

It got to the point that you were barely even talking to Naoya; simply presenting to him whenever he wanted to fuck. That pissed him off. Usually, you'd at least call him a name or insult him! What snapped you out of this little lull was Naoya himself; told you he secretly cared. A harsh slap to your face and your cheeks squished between the Alpha's masculine, strong hand, and you were sorted! Well, it was a little more than that... Naoya gave you a good talk too, tellin' you that you were more than just an incubator for his heirs, you were his after all; verbatim "Nothing that's mine is so boring and surface-level". So you sucked it up. All the opinions of the rest of the clan didn't matter anymore; you simply didn't care. Sure, you would produce an heir, you would produce many. But what a kick in the balls to all of the traditionalist cunts in the Zenin clan it would be if you raised your pups to be the exact opposite of what they wanted. And when you promised that to Naoya, his grin couldn't have stretched any wider.

I feel like this was really shit. Sorry. But I did really wanna get more omegaverse out cause I love it so so much! And Naoya is fucking hot.

[softjeekies]

Waiting After The Rain

↳ chapter 5

previous chapter // next chapter(coming soon)

Paining: ot8!stray kids x pregnant omega!reader

Synopsis: An omega pregnant and alone after being kicked out by their alpha stumbles upon a pack willing to take them in and care for both the omega and their pup as if they were their own, because now they are.

Genre: strangers to lovers, angsty but lots of fluff to even it out.

Warnings: a/b/o, past abuse physical and verbal, past sexual abuse(mentions of past non-con), mentions of past violence, trauma, self esteem issues, pregnancy, aftermath of abuse, panic attacks, anxiety, pack dynamics, angst but it will be okay, polyamory

A/N: been a little busy seeing stray kids live and all but chapter 5 is finally here, enjoy!! + I’m already deep into writing the next chapter so get ready ;)

Hours, You had spent hours sitting in front of the bag of nesting supplies Chan bought for you. Felix and Han had basically begged multiple times to help you, and it did hurt to turn them down every time they asked but you didn’t want to burden them like that. Something sick deep inside of you wanted to prove to the alphas that you could be a good omega, that you could nest, and that they didn’t need to worry about you. That was so far from the truth. You couldn’t even bring yourself to open the bag and take anything out, voices shouting in your head reminding you not to be a lazy slob anytime you even got close to the bag. One look at the clock tells you it’s two am, but your body’s exhaustion already told you as much. You want to go to bed so bad but you need to prove yourself to the alphas, You smile at the picture of them checking your room in the morning and seeing the perfect nest, showing them that you were a good omega worth keeping.

But you weren’t a good omega, so you accidentally fell asleep on the floor.

“Y/N! Oh my god, what happened?” The abrupt awakening scares you, out of instinct you push the person back away from them. You blink for a moment before you realize it’s Han you just pushed, your chest tightens.

“Oh my god, No! I’m so sorry Han, You scared me but that’s not an excuse, I shouldn’t have pushed you, god I’m such an idiot! I’m going to be in so much trouble, aren’t I? I ruined everything.” You ramble, unsure how to fix this. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, How could you do this?

“Hey. It’s okay, I’m okay. I shouldn’t have woken you up like that, I just saw you on the floor and thought something had happened to you. I have anxiety too, I’m always worried about my pack. Just please try and breathe, this was just a misunderstanding, it’s not a big deal.” Han keeps his hands up as he walks towards you and gets down to your level.

“I’m sorry.” A pained whimper rips from your chest.

“It’s okay! Tell me why you were on the floor and we’ll call it even” You focus on his face in an attempt to ground yourself, he has the most gorgeous smile, cheeks so soft perfect for chaste kisses, he’s perfect, the perfect omega.

“I’m a horrible omega. I couldn’t nest. Part of me is worried I don’t deserve it, like nesting isn’t meant for me. The other part worried I won’t be good at it. I’m scared Han, so scared.”

“We told you we’d help you, you don’t have to do this alone. Please let me help you.” You take a moment to look into his eyes, searching for any malice, and you’re left confused when you find none. With your nod of approval, Han takes the bags of nesting materials and dumps them on your bed. You’re immediately hit with the intense urge to fix it, to nest. You get up and take careful steps towards the bed, as if it were a wild animal you needed to be careful around.

“Don’t think too hard about it, touch everything and let your instincts guide you where it needs to go.” Han's encouragement does something to you, your omega coming to the forefront of your mind almost puppeting you as you touch the various fabrics and pillows.

You’re now sitting up on the bed, pushing around the pillows and blankets, kneading at them to try to assess where it would be best suited. After placing the final border pillow you look up to meet a pair of glassy eyes. Your heart skips a beat. Never in your life have you been able to say someone looked at you with that kind of love and care, but now you could see and smell the love radiating off of Han.

“Did I do good?” You’re nervous for his answer, somehow a fellow omega’s approval feels more daunting than any alpha’s.

“Oh, it’s perfect, so perfect. May I come into your nest?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Han enters the nest carefully, taking extra caution not to mess up any of your hard work. He takes a seat in front of you and gently takes both of your hands.

“My love, nobody enters your nest without your permission, do you understand? Nobody is entitled to your space, and none of us will ever enter this nest without your explicit permission.” You’re certain you’re as red as a tomato now, This was yours, and Han is okay with that, he says the whole pack will be okay with this being yours. It feels euphoric, having something that you can control like this, something in you snaps, like a small crack in an armored wall.

“Thank you. Thank you for this Jisung.” You don’t realize there are tears in your eyes until your smile causes one of them to fall down your cheek, for once they are happy tears.

“You don’t have to thank me for caring, we’ll always care.” Every wolf in the world can hear your heartbeat right now. Tears continue to flow down your cheeks, you’re so overcome with emotions that it’s almost overwhelming. Before you can ground yourself, you feel your omega come back to the forefront of your mind.

“Can we cuddle?” Your hand immediately flies over your mouth and panic sets in. Your words are blunt but Han can’t help the flutter those words cause in his chest.

“Don’t worry! Of course, we can, you deserve a nap after sleeping on the floor last night.” Han takes it upon himself to lay you both down together in the center of your nest. He lays your head on his chest and lets you drape your leg over his. Now Jisung is crying, not only is he proud of this step you’ve taken, but he's honored you wanted to take it with him. You don’t notice Jisung’s tears though, your mind too preoccupied with settling into dreamland once again.

“She has to get up and eat something.” A sharp voice pulls you from your sleep, you don’t open your eyes just yet a little dazed and a little concerned about what the conversation is about.

“But look at her, so cute and sleepy, and safe. She fell asleep on the floor last night, Can't she just sleep a little longer?” That whiney voice could only belong to Jisung.

“Ji, it’s almost noon.” The realization that an alpha wants you to do something hits you like a truck, you have to get up, you can’t upset Minho. So before Jisung can respond you cut him off.

“It’s fine Jisung, we can go eat now, our nap was nice.” Jisung’s face contorts into one of shock, but he smiles down at you accepting your answer without a fight.

Without a word you take Jisung’s hand, your mind still a little hazy from his scent surrounding you. When you make it to the dining room you notice the rest of the pack isn’t there but before you can question it Minho speaks up while pulling out your chair.

“Everyone already had breakfast, and it’s just us for now. Chan is spending the day with Felix and the rest of them are at work. Chan told me everything the doctor said and what foods were recommended for you so I did what I could. Please tell me if there’s something here you don’t like, I don’t want you to get sick again.” You take a moment to examine the plate, aside from the fact that it seems like way too much food you can confidently say nothing on the plate will make you gag.

“This is good, thank you Minho.” He smiles before taking a seat to watch you and Jisung eat. About halfway through the plate, you put down your utensils to wait for Jisung to finish.

“Are you full?” Minho speaks sharply but there’s no malice in his words, he seems more shocked than anything.

“It’s just a lot of food.”

“I gave you the minimum portions the doctor recommended, if you’re full that’s fine, you can just ask for more food when you get hungry again, but if you can eat just a little more that would be good for ou-“ a cough cuts off his words. “your pup.” He gives you a nervous smile but behind his eyes, you can see the encouragement, and just this once you feel safe to give in and eat more. You actually eat the whole plate and Minho’s face shows something you’ve never seen before from really anyone.

“I’m proud of you. If you get hungry again you have free rein in the kitchen or I can make you something.” But before you can give Minho a response you’re interrupted by Jisung.

“Minho hyung last week you said you’d take me to the store to get new headphones so I can stop using yours, can we go today?” If you were Minho you'd never be able to say no to him, his puppy dog face game is insane.

“Ji, Y/N just went out yesterday. I don't know if it’s a good idea if she goes out again, she needs rest.”

“I feel fine, we can go to the store, it’s no big deal.” Yeah, you definitely can’t say no to Jisung.

Jisung gasps and runs upstairs to get ready to go. You get up as well but Minho stops you.

“You don’t have to give in to him, if you don’t want to go for any reason, Say the word, nobody will be mad.“

“I’m okay.” You give Minho a gentle smile before retreating to get yourself ready. You take your time getting ready, admittedly a little nervous to go out with Minho. You don’t know him, you don’t know any of them. It's only been three days but with Felix, Chan, and now Jisung at least you’ve spent some time with them and they don’t seem like they mean any harm. But you at least have a little trust in Han, if he thinks going out with Minho is a good idea you’ll do it. So you continue getting ready, the anxiety settling into a small hum in your mind.

As you three walk towards the electronics section, Minho keeps a steady pace behind you and Jisung. You can feel his eyes burning into your back, so you aren’t surprised when he notices how your eyes linger on the baby section for a second too long.

“Y/N did you want to look?” You and Jisung stop in your tracks and turn towards Minho.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Oh my god yes let’s look at all the cute itty bitty clothes!” Jisung takes your hand to drag you further into the baby aisles, Minho making sure to catch up quickly.

“Have you thought about whether you want a nursery or do you want the baby to stay in your room?” Jisung’s question makes you freeze, because no you hadn’t thought about it. It feels wrong to think about it, like that future where you and the baby are staying with the pack feels unpromised, undeserved.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it. I think I’d like to keep my baby safe with me, you know? But I don’t know…” You trail off and look anywhere but at the two men in front of you.

“We have the space upstairs, if you want a nursery it wouldn’t be an issue and the pup wouldn’t be far from you at all, they wouldn’t be far from any of us,” Minho speaks up and something about the way he speaks with certainty almost eases your nerves, keyword being almost.

“Yeah, and if you want the baby to bond with all of us it might be good to have a neutral space where all of our scents frequent for them to sleep in.” His statement throws you off. Did you want your baby to bond with them? Is your baby safe with them? Would you all even make it to that point?

“Jisung!” Minho almost growls at him, clearly realizing that it was a touchy subject for you.

“What? What’d I do?”

“I’ll have to think about it, I guess.” And just like that immediately Jisung gets distracted and moves on.

“Oh look at these little fuzzy onesies! This one’s a bear! Oh, and this one’s a bunny! Oh, we have to get both, they are so cute and Minho hyung looks like a bunny, so he could have a baby bunny!” Jisung’s excited voice cuts through your thoughts, and you take a look at Minho just in time to catch the blush spreading across his face above his now prominent pout.

“You have to ask Y/N if she wants them Ji, it’s her baby.”

“Don’t you think they’re cute Y/N. Minho should buy them for the pup right?”

“Minho doesn’t have to buy me anything.”

“That’s not a no!” Jisung almost squeals as he picks out one of each onesie and continues browsing the adorable clothes.

“I’m sorry about him, he really likes cute things, and it doesn’t help that he already has his heart set on having a baby one day so this is something he thinks about often, if you need me to tell him to tone it down I can.”

“It’s fine, if I can do this for him, at least I'm being useful for once.” With that, you walk towards Jisung to do some looking around yourself. Just focus on your baby, yeah that will distract you.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Practical Demonstration

Kinktober Day 3: Exhibitionism Yandere Male Alpha Professor x Gender Neutral Omega Teacher Assistant CW: Noncon, public sex, exhibitionism, abuse of authority, knotting, musk, scent kink, biting, claiming bites, pheromones, overstimulation, a/b/o dynamics, slick, suppressants, manipulation, praise kink, general yandere behavior Word Count: 1.6k (Okay guys, hope you enjoy this given how long you have waited for it! PLEASE comment, comments feed me <3)

You were the teacher's assistant for the renowned and well-regarded Professor Reid Sullivan. He had degrees involving anatomy and physiology as well as the psychology of alphas and omegas, and the college he taught at was prestigious.

Professor Sullivan was a bit of a prodigy, already being a highly respected academic despite only being in his early-thirties. His unkempt shaggy hair, dark circles around his eyes, and slight stubble made him appear older. His classes were popular, though he refused to teach large crowds. They reduced his efficacy. At most, he would teach 24 students at a time. This class, though, was limited to 20.

This meant students were always clamoring to sign up before all the slots were filled. Not only were people eager to watch him teach because he was so accomplished and good at educating but also because he was considered rather attractive by many students.

It didn't help that he was also an alpha, and despite his tired nerdy demeanor, he was actually quite fit.

But the main reason his classes were so popular was that he often incorporated live demonstrations into his lessons. In the past, he had omegas demonstrate heat and alphas show off knots while he pointed to and described the anatomy and the purpose for it. He even had an alpha and omega pair demonstrate mating on more than one occasion.

Working under him wasn't bad at all. You were an omega, so you were naturally pretty nervous at first. Working with an alpha superior could sometimes be rather hard. Even in this progressive age, there was still a degree of discrimination and power abuse.

Professor Sullivan was exceedingly kind to you. He even got you coffee and something to eat every morning, even though that would typically be a task more suited to you. He also let you sit in his large cushy chair and was quick to let you use his jacket as you rarely used one, and his classroom tended to be cold.

He was very patient and understanding, guiding you through lessons and helping you learn how to handle a class.

Then, on the day of the final lecture, his true colors were revealed.

He locked the door and then stood in front of it. He put on the display screen a presentation about seducing and breeding an omega.

"Omegas are instinctively attracted to mates that provide them with food. It doesn't have to be major, but a daily coffee and small bit of food will make them naturally more receptive to you..."

The lecture went into greater detail on the subject, also explaining how he microdosed the coffee to make suppressants less effective, but you weren't paying much attention. You were too busy staring at the screen that had pictures of you happily sipping coffee or nibbling on muffins or bagels. It was all so surreal.

"For a shy omega, you can't simply bombard them with your scent. It could scare them away or turn them off completely from your continued advances. Instead, get them acclimated to it..."

The screen now showed how he slightly scented his chair and jacket and gradually scented it more juxtaposed with images of you grading papers while wearing the jacket and sitting in his chair.

You were mortified. Professor Sullivan was a monster! You tried to push past him and get to the door. It almost worked as he was taken aback by your determination to escape, but the extra few seconds that you spent fiddling with the lock were all he needed to wrap his arms around you from behind.

"If your omega acts fearful before mating then the steps we took earlier will help us now."

“G-get off!”

You thrashed and squirmed, but he licked, sucked, and nibbled at your neck until the overstimulation clouded your mind and made your resistance much more feeble. After that, he turned you towards him and, after disrobing completely, pushed your head under his arm so that you got a full dose of his pheromones.

The students gave the professor their undivided attention. One or two omega students envied your place as they stared with wide-eyed fascination at Professor Sullivan's now throbbing cock. The rest were a bit uneasy because you clearly hadn't been willing. They weren't actually too shocked, though, this type of thing wasn't exactly uncommon.

"See how limp the omega is? That's because I canceled any bothersome suppressants, made them accepting of my scent, and subconsciously had them see me as a provider."

The professor had a student roll over his chair to the center of the class before locking the wheels in place. He sat you down tenderly after taking off all your clothing and setting it aside.

"Gather around class, feel free to masturbate as long as you pay attention. This is especially important for you alphas."

Some of the students rubbed their crotches. The alphas encouraged the omegas since it would be helpful later to get them all hot and bothered. After the class formed a circle around the two of you, he continued.

"Now, before an alpha inserts themself into their omega, they must make sure the omega is properly slicked up. Some was produced earlier, but we will want more."

He demonstrated the proper neck stimulation techniques as well as how to slowly stretch out and prepare an omega by inserting gradually more fingers. Then he showed them how to massage an omega’s entrance with their cocks before penetration.

Before he even slipped his cock into you, you were already drooling with a dazed expression.

"Okay class, I said today would be an interactive lesson. The 10 alpha students were each delegated an omega and as part of their final grade, they were tasked with doing everything to their omega classmate that I have done to the TA. Omega students will be granted a participation grade."

The alpha half of the class began pulling the omegas close, stuffing the omegas' faces into their musky crotches or underarms.

The omegas were all bewildered. One gladly accepted their fate, a few were shocked into inaction, and most struggled. Only one managed to escape and get out the door but was chased down and brought back.

These were all students with dreams and goals, most didn't want to be an alpha's property and cumdump. At least not before they did things with their lives.

"I made sure all of your desks were sturdy enough for this, you can prop your omegas up on them if you'd like, putting your clothes on the desk and laying your omega on that will make them more comfortable, like a miniature nest with your scent."

The alphas were all stoked and barely able to hold back.

"If you have your omega in a state like our wonderful TA here is demonstrating then you may slip your cock into them, go slowly though, at least at first."

Professor Sullivan was the first to sink in, causing you to moan softly, soon the entire room was filled with the gasps and moans of a room full of omegas mingling with the grunting and heavy breathing of their alpha lovers.

The air was heavy with pheromones, musk, and the scent of slick.

Your mind wasn't really able to process what was happening around you, though. Your nose was focused on the scent of the one mating you as you instinctively wrapped your arms and legs around him.

"Oh, don't forget to praise your omegas, they may not understand your words right now, but the tone will soothe them."

He kissed you possessively.

"You're such a good mate for me. A perfect partner. So good at helping me teach this lesson. Taking my cock so well~"

He cooed into your ear lovingly as the alpha students praised and complimented their mates. Occasionally, an omega shuddered and squealed in orgasm with their alphas not too far behind.

Sullivan sped the pace up for you, and you didn't last much longer after that. You spasmed wonderfully around his dick as you came hard. Not the only time, though, as he coaxed several more climaxes from your trembling body before he finally came himself and tied you with his big knot.

"Once you've knotted your lover you should bite their neck to mark them as yours. This is essential to making your omega feel safe and loved and will make you secure in the knowledge that everyone knows who they belong to."

The professor bit your neck hard, causing you to moan more even as you flinched in pain.

"You look so beautiful with my mark."

After all the mating had finished and all the knots had deflated, the omegas were all still pretty out of it. Mating and being claimed took a lot out of them and it would probably be an hour or two before they recovered.

"Don't forget your homework! Aftercare is ESSENTIAL!!! Take your omegas to your dorms and make sure they are hydrated, well fed, and praised. If they get cranky at today's events, they probably just need another round or two of breeding."

Which, as it turns out, is exactly what he determined you needed when you wouldn't listen to reason at his home later. He tried to explain that it was all to enhance his teaching. He had been looking for the right omega to fall in love with and help with his lessons for YEARS!

And he finally found you. A TA aspiring to work in his field! You had always wanted a career in academics, and now you had one as his permanent assistant and live demonstration participant!