#Traditional abo dynamics

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghoaptober # 3

Prompt: Hurt

Words: 5100~

TW: Distressing/Negative Sexual Experiences, Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Restraints, Intersex Omegas (NOT sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

Please note that all the Distressing/Negative Sexual Experiences are not between Ghost and Soap. I think this one is right on the line for dub-con, so proceed with caution if that's something that might trigger you. If this is missing any trigger warning please do let me know!

I've always had an itch to subvert the 'omega desperately needs to get fucked during their heat' trope, so I honestly shouldn't be so surprised that this one got away from me like it did.

Enjoy!

As an omega, Soap had started preparing for his heat a good month in advance, he’d gathered up his favourite nesting blankets and made sure they were freshly laundered, he’d scouted a good Heat-Hotel that was nearby and booked a room, he’d even secured a partner. Some of the other omegas on base had been touting this new matcher app, that they’d reportedly had massive success with, so Soap had decided to give it a whirl and signed up. What’s the worst that could happen, he was no doubt better trained than any of the civvies he’d be meeting up with. 

He’d been talking to an alpha named Dominic Wilckes and when the subject of his heat had come up, Dominic had asked if Soap was looking for a partner. With no reason to say no, Soap had said yes. He’s spent heats with and without partners before, and found accompanied heats to be much more manageable. 

Soap was in his room at the Heat-Hotel now, securing a layer of waterproof Heat-Sheets over his carefully arranged nest. When his heat was spiking he didn’t care, but when he was in a lull or was coming down, he hated having his nest being a messy, sticky, uncomfortable, ruined heap of blankets. So he’d learned how to weave a sturdy nest and had invested in specialty sheets that would keep it clean. 

His phone buzzed rapidly on the table, it was Dominic.

“here”

“safe n sOund solotions?”

“in the lobby”

“whr r u”

Dominic was a nice guy, but Soap could admit that the way he texted was a bit annoying. Having his messages open to send Dominic the room number reminded him that he hadn’t texted Ghost yet. He pulled up his location and sent it to his Lieutenant along with a quick text,

“At Safe & Sound Solutions, Room 348, Booked for three days, Should be back Tuesday.”

His message showed as being read within the minute and while he was waiting to see if Ghost would reply another message came in from Dominic,

“come down”

Soap reread the message, why would he need to go down to the lobby? Maybe there was an issue Dominic needed help with? Confused, but willing to help, Soap texted back a quick ‘On my way.’ and headed out, his riled instincts insisting he double and triple check that he’d locked the door to his room. That he made sure his nest was safe from intruders.

In the lobby, Soap found Dominic leaning up against the wall next to the lifts with a bag at his feet. Walking over, he tried to spot where the problem was. 

“Dominic? Whit’s wrong?” Soap questioned,

“Hey, John. Some of the people were giving me weird looks. I needed you to come to show them I’m not some creep hanging around for nothing.” Dominic stood from his lean and stepped into Soap’s space, bringing his arm up to rub a wrist over Soap’s nape. Scenting him. Soap let him, tilting his shoulders so the other man wouldn’t accidentally brush his mating glands, they got heinously sensitive when he was heating.  

“Oh, alrigh’,” Soap privately thought that Dominic was overthinking it, if anyone was looking at him weird it was for loitering around in the lobby, but not actually sitting in any of the many chairs scattered throughout. The lobby of every Heat-Hotel that Soap had ever visited always looked like Moses had called a plague of plush chintzy furniture down upon them. 

Soap led Dominic back into the lift, pressing the button for his floor. A chime from his phone brought his attention to the fact that Ghost had replied, he’d reacted to Soap’s message with a thumbs up and had sent back,

“Rog.” 

Ghost had a habit of reading his notifications as soon as he could, but often didn’t have the time to actually reply until later. 

“Who’s that?” Dominic asked, peeking over Soap’s arm to get a look at the screen. 

Soap locked his phone, the smile that had pulled up the corners of his mouth falling away. 

“Mah L.T. He likes tae know every’hings guid.” Soap replies, watching the numbers of the lift ding over to his floor and stepping out as the doors parted.

“Your L.T? What’s that?” Dominic crowded up against his back as he tried to finagle the keycard into scanning properly and unlocking the door. 

“Mah Lieutenant.” Soap pulls the door flush closed, grips the handle to make sure it’s sitting straight, then tries sliding the keycard through at a snail's pace. The light flashes green and he whips the door open before it can change its mind, sending a silent thanks out to Price for teaching him how to sweet-talk card readers. 

“Oh yeah. You're in some kinda military army thing right?” Dominic’s realization carried a strange tone of praise. 

“Yeah, U.K.S.F,” Soap clocks Dominics blank gaze and spells it out for him before he can ask, “United Kingdom Special Forces,”

A light comes on behind Dominic’s eyes, but a skeptical look crinkles his nose. “But can’t only U.K citizens join?” 

It's Soap’s turn to stare blankly, “Aye?” the answer carries a subtext of ‘you dumbass’ that Soap couldn’t have stopped if there were hostages at stake.

Soap watches Dominic’s confused look intensify. Good, they could be confused together.

“But aren’t you Irish?” 

“Nae!” Soap refutes, that idea in need of immediate culling, “Ah’m no' Irish. Ah’m a fuckin’ Scot!”

“Oh, I didn’t know Scottish people could join the British army?” 

Soap searches Dominic's face for any sign that he’s joking, Dominic looks earnestly back at him. 

Jesus Christ.

He’s not joking. 

“Scotland’s a par’ ae the U.K,” Soap says hesitantly, leadingly, begging Dominic to spend one brain cell on remembering his First Year geography lessons.

“Oh, Alright.” Dominic shrugs in a ‘whatever you say’ manner, that makes Soap think he’s doing it more to drop the conversation than he actually believes what he’s been told, “Are you already set up? When does your heat kick in?”

Dominic glances around the room, looking over Soap’s preparations, dropping his bag off his shoulder onto the desk pressed against the wall. Why a Heat-Hotel thought its room's occupants might need a desk, was the true mystery of the night. 

Soap shakes himself free of the disbelief clogging his brain, and checked his watch, “Wi’hin the ‘our, mebbe twen’y minutes?” 

Dominic shoots him an odd look again, clearly thinking something over.

“Whit? Whit’s wrong?” Soap glances around himself, but nothing looks wrong to him.

“Your accent’s cute, John, but it’s a bit hard to understand you. You know?” Dominic's tone is assured, almost complimentary, “It’s gonna be hard to know what you want if I can’t understand you.” He coaxes, like a parent reasoning with their toddler to not bite electrical cables. Like it’s what was best for everyone.

Baffled, Soap stares at him. He’s never gotten flak about his accent from his previous partners, everyone else had seemed to enjoy it. At least, Soap had thought they’d enjoyed it. 

“Aye,” Soap swallows hard, his stomach roiling “Eh- Uh- Yes. I can- Um- I’ll try tae- to speak,” Flustered, Soap stutters through his answer as he tries to flatten his accent, “I’ll try to speak more clearly.”

��That’s all I’m asking.” Dominic nods at him, “Now,” he slaps at his own thighs, “Where are we setting up? On the bed?” He walks over to the bed, toting his bag, and starts rummaging through the nightstands, “They don’t have anything here, it's a good thing I brought my own stuff.” 

Soap eyes him as he approaches the nest, wincing as his tossed bag knocks free a carefully stacked pillow. Dominic clatters around a bit more, checking the minifridge and all the drawers in the desk. 

“Where’s your stuff?” He turns back to Soap.

Soap points wordlessly at the gutted dufflebag he’d carried his blankets over in. 

“Oh, you don’t use toys? A good omega? Like whining on your fingers instead?” Dominic’s voice dripped with sudden lascivious intent, he dropped his head to eye Soap through his lashes, licking his lips and petting his hands over his bag, “That’s okay, baby. Alpha will take care of you. I’ll give you everything you need.”

Soap inhaled shakily. He must not laugh. If he laughed he’d be out of a heat partner and his instincts would insist on him moving the nest. If he moved rooms he’d have to update Ghost. Ghost would worry about why he moved rooms and insist on checking on him. If his L.T came within one city block of him when he was on his heat Soap was dragging that alpha into his nest and not letting him leave. Soap did not want his L.T to write him up for fraternization. 

He must not laugh. 

“Oh yeah?” Soap eked out. Dominic must take the breathiness of his voice to be anticipation as his look only grew more seductive. 

“Yeah, baby. Come get comfy in your nest and Alpha will show you the presents he brought.” Dominic pats a hand on the nest, then gives it a surprised glance, “These are the blankets you want? They’re not very soft.”

Soap explains about how he doesn’t like his nest getting dirty as he crawls up onto the bed, petting a proprietary hand over his nest. It’s not like the blankets were scratchy terrycloth or anything, they were Heat-Sheets, they were made specifically for heats, they wouldn’t sell if they weren’t comfortable. 

“Here,” Dominic reached forward and Soap frantically knocks the hand away before it could tear into his nest. The judging look that Dominic shot him was completely uncalled for. What kind of psycho fucks with an omega’s nest. 

“What?” Dominic furrows his eyebrows at the omega, “I was just gonna show you a better way to do it. You could put a soft sheet on top, so you’re not laying on something so rough. I know omegas are super sensitive about that kinda stuff.”

“Nae- No. No, it’s fine like this. Thank you, Dominic.” Soap assures, sliding over to sit on the bed directly in front of Dominic, firmly between his nest and the alpha. 

After eyeing him for a moment longer, Dominic shugs and turns back to his bag, muttering something about omegas being so picky under his breath. 

“I got you that water you like,” he says, pulling three one-litre bottles of Volvic mineral water out of his bag and setting them on the nightstand. Soap felt warmed and a touch shocked, he’d only mentioned that he likes Volvic best in passing. The warm feeling vanished when the next item Dominic pulled from his bag of tricks was a tall omegaen guard-collar.

“I know it’s usually that alphas wear muzzles for heats and omegas wear collars for ruts, but the skin on my face is super sensitive and I’ll get a rash if I wear a muzzle,” Dominic explained, handing over the collar when Soap hesitantly reached for it. 

It was made of good thick leather, fastening with two buckles in the back instead of a cheap zipper. The things that were throwing Soap off were that it was much taller than the typical guard-collar, how it flared out at the bottom to cover over his trapeziuses, and the four D-rings spaced around its middle. It honestly looked more like a posture-collar. 

“I was looking into the failure rate of guard-collars and this one has amazing reviews and no accidental bites,” Dominic supplies, tapping at the collar in Soap's hands, “Do you need help putting it on?”

Soap absently nods, not really processing what’s being said to him, and finds the contraption out of his hands and strapped around his neck within two heartbeats. Hands coming up to scrabble at the new pressure squishing his mating glands Soap gives a startled yelp and Dominic quickly grabs his hands. Shushing and cooing at him, giving his hands a firm squeeze when he tries to pull away. 

“It’s alright, omega. You’re doing so well.” Tuning out Dominic's crooning, Soap focused on calming his breathing.

In for four, hold for four, out for four. In for four, hold for four, out for four.

With his breath under control, Soap can admit that the collar isn’t as restrictive as he’d feared, he can breathe fine, and turn his head. Looking down or up presses a bit, but it’s not terrible.

Focusing on himself for a moment also revealed to Soap that he’d been so busy judging Dominic that he’d completely missed his body cresting through pre-heat. Taking another deep breath Soap warns the alpha that he’ll be going into full heat in a minute or two and watches the shocked look take over Dominic's face. It’s not surprising to Soap that Dominic hadn’t noticed, Soap’s scent has never been particularly loud and he’s not throwing himself at the alpha like the needy heat-drunk omegas do in films. 

The next few minutes are admittedly blurry to Soap as his body plunges into full heat, when he comes back to himself he’s face down with his ass up in the air and Dominic is playing between his thighs. By the wetness dripping down his legs Soap guesses that he’s already cum once, that or Dominic drools more than Eas A’  Chual Aluinn. 

Giving a pitching whine, Soap tries to get up onto his elbows and finds that the guard-collar wasn't Dominic’s only gift for him. There are soft leather cuffs secured around his wrists, latched closed with simple carabiners and attached to one of the D-rings of his collar with a short chain. Stopping him from lifting his head more than about twenty centimetres away from his hands and, consequently, the bed. 

“Do- Dominic?” He pants through his confusion and feels the man pull his tongue and what felt like three fingers out of his hole. 

“Back with me, omega? You’re doing so well. Getting so wet for me. Cumming so pretty.” Dominic rumbles, reverent fingers coming back to pet over Soap’s twitching hole. 

Soap pushes back into the touch, feeling achingly empty, his lower belly cramping with the need to be filled. 

“Alpha, please,” he whines “Need your knot, please, please, knot me, ple-”

“Hush.” Dominic commands and the omega’s jaw snaps shut, “I’m not done with you yet, omega. Be quiet and settle down. Take what alpha gives you.” 

Tears prickled behind Soap’s eyes. He got his elbows under himself and lifted his head up off of the nest as far as he could, breathing easier without the blankets in his face. He yelps when hot suction suddenly seals around his cocklet with three fingers plunging back into his hole to bully his sweet spot. Thighs shaking, Soap is pushed into another orgasm, face falling back into the sheets, muffling his squeals when Dominic doesn’t let up. Hard sucks and forceful strokes propelling him through one orgasm and directly into the next. 

His honest yelping coaxes Dominic off his cocklet, “Poor omega,” The alpha croons, petting over his thighs and grabbing at his ass, “So needy. It’s okay, alpha’s here. Alpha will give you what you need.” 

“Knot- Knot me. Alpha, please. Need it.” Soap begs shamelessly, the heat roaring through him stoked by his untied orgasms, his body painfully demanding for him to be knotted and filled.

“I don’t know,” comes Dominic’s teasing reply, leaking more false sympathy than Soap’s hole was leaking slick, “Have you been a good omega? Do you deserve my knot?” 

“Yes, Yes.” Soap nods as much as the collar allows, still careful to smother his accent, “Please, need it.”

“Okay, omega. Alpha will help you.” Dominic’s fingers pull out of him and an actual sob escapes Soap when instead of a cock, he feels a tongue push into his hole. He purposely turns into the sheets to muffle his cries, his instincts rioting and his climbing temperature making him feel sick.

A brief unwelcome stroke over his asshole yanks him from his spiral. His head snaps up, eyes wide and stinging with unshed tears. Did he imagine it? His chest heaves and he freezes perfectly still, staring blankly down at the tangle his nest has become. 

A finger, wet with what he can only assume is his own slick, prods past his rim up to the second knuckle and Soap gives a startled yowl, “Nae! Nae! Donnae do tha!”

“No?” Comes Dominic’s skeptical tease, his free hand squeezing goadingly at Soap’s hip, “My poor Omega doesn't want all his heated holes nice and full?”

Soap frantically shakes his head, lacking words, but filled with denial. Tears knocked loose and coursing unseen down his cheeks.

“Alright,” Dominic agreed, no less skeptical, but slowly withdrawing his finger regardless.

When Soap felt that same finger slide down to line up with his hole’s entrance the omega is willing to admit that he may have come a little unglued.

He snarled, wriggling and kicking back at the alpha, yanking bruises into his wrists in the shape of the cuffs that bound them. Soap managed to thrash his way upright and huddled up against the headboard. Hissing at the flabbergasted alpha knelt at the foot of the bed, giving another throat tearing snarl when Dominic tried to reach for him. His instincts in full control and having decidedly assessed the alpha to be a bad heat partner. 

Keeping his full attention on the man, Soap brought his wrists up and bit open the carabiners, untethering the cuffs from the collar then unfastening the cuffs to slide them off altogether. His freed hands immediately moving behind his neck to unbuckle the collar, fumbling blindly and growling with bared teeth when the alpha made a move towards him. Managing to finagle the first buckle loose, he unhooked the second with much more finesse. Tossing the collar aside, Soap heaved a breath of relief, hands coming up to rub at his sore mating glands, the glands feeling nearly bruised from the constant pressing of the collar. 

“John, Calm down,” Dominic spoke up, voice slow and hesitant, “Everything’s fine, stop freaking out,”

Soap would have liked to close his eyes and regroup, but really didn't like the idea of leaving Dominic unsupervised. Instead he started up his breathing exercises again while keeping the alpha firmly within his sights.

In for four, hold for four, out for four.

“That’s good. Just calm down,” Dominic praised, stretching forward to reach for Soap’s drawn up knees. 

Soap tossed the idea of regulating his breath out the window and drew himself up, “Dominic,” He ground out of a throat that only wanted to produce growls, “Do. Not. Touch. Me.” 

Dominic sat back on the bed, stymied, thoroughly confused, and a little offended. 

Soap’s temperature was spiking, though the want to be knotted and filled had completely vanished. Falling forward onto his hands, Soap panted for air, sweat pouring down his skin. His vision was fading, the sound of Dominic saying something coming through muffled, like his ears were stuffed with cotton. Chills and prickles raced up his spine to dance over his scalp. His throat felt like it was shrinking to the size of a straw. 

Something wet touched his bottom lip and he was automatically gulping down the water before he consciously made the decision to drink. The ringing faded from his ears just enough for him to hear Dominic.

“-hn, I called the emergency line. There’s a nurse comi-”

Soap’s vision blacked out.

When he blinked back to himself he was flat on his back with something cold pressing against the nape of his neck and his legs being held aloft by a beta woman that was standing beside the bed. Struggling to get his eyes to properly focus, he grunted his confusion.

“Hello, Mr Mactavish. I’m Kelly. How are you feeling?” The beta, Kelly, spoke with a voice that was friendly, but not perky. More of a matter-of-fact warmth. 

“Pre’y shite,” He groaned out, letting his eyes fall closed again as he rubbed at his face. Dimly registering that a thin blanket had been draped over his hips to cover his unmentionables.

“Yeah, I’d guess so,” Kelly commiserates, gently lowering his legs back onto the bed, “Could you keep your knees up for me? Just like that. Perfect. So, Mr Mactavish, you’ve just had a rather bad bout of Heat Rejection,” Kelly informs him, while keeping a grounding hand on his obediently raised knees, “It’s completely natural and not at all life threatening, the symptoms should level out within the next twenty-four hours. You’re welcome to ride it out in the medical suite here with us, or if you have someone that you can call that can sit with you for that time you’re free to leave.”

Soap slowly thinks this over, cracking open an eye and blearily noticing that the room is empty of anyone but Kelly and him. “Dominic,” He grunts, not quite managing to make it pitch up into a question.

“I asked Mr Wilckes to wait in the hall, as I wasn’t sure if his presence would make you uncomfortable.” Kelly is a consummate professional, but Soap thinks he can detect hints of scorn flitting about the corners of her eyes, “I can call him back in if that’s what you want.”

“Nae.” Soap denies, “Nae, I dun wan’ ‘im ‘ere. If ye coul' pass me mah phone I’ve someone tha’ can take me outta y’ur hair,”

Kelly kindly fetches his phone, though she doesn’t let him sit up to make the call. Eyeing Simon’s contact, he mentally apologizes to everyone on the base for the chaos he’s about to unleash, then hits dial.

He’s barely had the time to move the phone to his ear when the call is picked up.

“Johnny?” Ghost’s harried voice barks down the line, “What’s wrong?”

“Why’s some’hing gotta be wrong fer me tae call ye, L.T,” Soap bitches, trying to calm Ghost down from the lather he’s no doubt already worked himself into, “Gonnae gi’ a man a complex,”

“What’s wrong, Johnny” The voice that rumbles from the phone is pure domineering alpha and it kicks a reflexive placating whine from Soap’s chest. 

“Si, ah need ye tae come ge’ me,” Soap mumbles down the line, his bravado drowned by the sudden twisting need he has for Ghost to be here with him. 

“I’m coming, Johnny.” Is the immediate reply, and by the rustles coming from Ghost’s side of the call, Soap knows he’s hauling ass, “Can you stay on the line? Are you hurt?” 

“Ah’m fine, Si. Ah’m no' hurt,” Soap lets his eyes fall closed again, ignoring the judgmental look Kelly shoots him for his little fib. In his own defense, he’s not physically hurt. From what he knows of Heat Rejection, his body is just gonna be all kinds of outta wack while his hormones try to rapidly bring him back down to baseline. For now, he’s content to listen to the sounds of Simon snapping at any unfortunate soul that dared get in his way. Soap only realises that he’s begun purring when a quiet answering purr comes from Simon. 

The slam of the room door opening jolts Soap out of the calm daze he’d fallen into and he reflexively punts the most pertinent object at the intruder. Unfortunately, that object happened to be the phone he’d been holding, even more unfortunately, the intruder was Ghost. 

Ghost easily ducks the unconventional projectile and covers the distance to the bed so fast, Soap could have sworn he teleported. From Kelly’s jump she also wasn’t expecting a man of Ghost’s size to move with that speed. 

Spooky bastard, his L.T.

“Ghost!” he cheers and is climbing up the alpha to nuzzle into his neck before he can rein in his rampant instincts. 

Omega and alpha freeze, Soap midnuzzle and Ghost with his hands reflexively clamped around his Sergeant’s bare thighs. 

Kelly, the blessed angel she is, gently clears her throat. Effectively snapping the awkward tension.

“Mr MacTavish is experiencing Heat Rejection and needs someone that is able to stay with him for the next twenty-four hours, or until his symptoms abate.” She looks up at Ghost, clad in his full skull-plated balaclava and half his field kit, without fear. Soap must have called while he was busy terrifying the rooks, “Can you do that?”

Ghost gives her a solemn nod, “Yes.” 

“Perfect,” Kelly starts listing symptoms, proper care practices, and things to watch out for when dealing with Heat Rejection and Soap is man enough to admit that he didn’t listen to a lick of it.

He was busy oscillating wildly between bone shaking horror that he was clinging to his Lieutenant while bare as a newborn, a deep seated greedy pleasure that Simon had come for him without question, and the brainless need to purr and rub against this perfect alpha until the rejected alpha’s scent was gone from his skin.  

Ghost’s hands gently squeezed his thighs, then loosened as he leaned forward a bit to encourage Johnny to stand on his own. Soap gave a petulant whine, but a reassuring purr and a gentle pat to his thighs had him reluctantly hopping down. Before his instincts could coax his better sense into indulging in a full blown pout for having to give up his prize, he was distracted by the sight of Ghost knelt at his feet holding out a pair of trackies for him to step into. 

If the mere thought of any kind of sexual touch didn’t currently make Soap want to run all the way back to Alba, Ghost on his knees for him would be a very enticing image, he couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t be the only thing on his mind the next time the need to let off steam hit either. For now, however, Soap was tired to his core and was pitifully grateful for the help as he stepped into the trousers, letting Ghost draw them up over his hips. 

Feeling like naught more than a bairn, Soap threw his arms up at Ghost’s gesture and let the man pull a shirt over his head. The impression was not helped by Ghost then immediately picking him up and perching him on his hip. The man was only eleven centimetres taller than him, where did he get off manhandling him like he was some kind of waif. Soap grumbled to himself, but was disinclined to actually demand he be allowed to walk on his own. Content to wrap all his limbs around Simon, like a particularly lonely limpet, and purr like a motorbike while rubbing their jaws together. 

There was a bit of a scuffle when Ghost had to convince him to let go and get in the car, but by the time the car was parked again Soap was barely conscious. He dully registered Simon picking him up out of his seat, the tension falling out of his muscles when he recognized the smells of their base. He thought he heard Prize and Gaz, but their voices were far away and the rumble of Simon’s chest was nice against his. 

Johnny cracked open an eye when he was plopped onto a bed, content to drowsily track Simon as the alpha threw his duffle, once again stuffed to bursting with blankets, next to the laundry bin. Simon heading for the door sent an unpleasant jolt through him and he whined forlornly, desperate to keep his alpha here with him.

“I’m going for drinks and food, Johnny,” Simon assured him, coming back to pet a hand over his warhawk, “I’ll be right back, I promise,”

Johnny whined again, but did nothing more to stop Simon from leaving. He could also do nothing to stop his instincts from insisting that he had disappointed his alpha and the man was never coming back. Trying to appease the gordian knot his logic and instincts were tying themselves into, Johnny started rumpling around in the bed he’d been deposited onto to make up a new nest. A deep rolling purr bursting from him when he realized it was Simon’s bed. No doubt the alpha’s instincts were also going haywire, demanding he protect the omega.

No better place than the heart of his own territory for that, Johnny supposed. 

The door opened and Johnny’s reflexive hiss broke into another purr, the mere sight of Simon cutting through his anxieties. He actually barked a few ecstatic chirps when the alpha dropped lovely soft clean scentless blankets onto the bed. Johnny hadn’t chirped since his age was in the single digits, but Simon bringing him blankets -his alpha contributing to their nest-, was really doing it for him. 

Johnny lost himself in weaving the perfect nest, as he always does, and once he deemed it faultless he looked for his alpha. 

Simon was standing, backed against the wall on the other side of the room, with his hands palms out and his chin tipped up to expose his throat. His bare uncovered balaclavaless throat, to match his bare uncovered balaclavaless face. 

Oh, Johnny's alpha was perfect.

The omega might have gotten a bit overwhelmed by the sheer excellence of his alpha as he immediately went limp to flop and roll in his nest. Catching a glimpse of Simon flinching forward at his abrupt fall before realising what Johnny was doing and assuming his non-aggressive stance again, with a perfect peachy pink blush creeping up his throat to bloom over his cheeks. 

“Alpha,” Johnny called him over, patting invitingly at the nest.

Simon took a hesitant step forward and was pulled the rest of the distance to the bed by Johnny’s delighted chirps. The omega was still flopped, but curled around just enough to snag the loose fabric of Simon’s pants, retracting his hand and shaking it out with an unhappy whine when the fabric’s rough texture offended him. In the next second Simon stood before him in only his knickers. Johnny doesn’t think he’s ever seen Simon strip that fast, including that time when Simon's clothes had actually caught fire. 

Johnny gives a surprised meep, gazing wide eyed at the alpha stood vibrating before him, waiting for permission to enter his own bed. Then gets over it and hauls the man down into the nest. Pushing him around until he was in the perfect position for cuddles. Johnny purred, burying his face into the warm nook between Simon’s arm and his side, whining inconsolably when the alpha lifted his arm to give him more room, only purring again when he put it back where it was.

A hand comes up to hesitantly pet over his back, creeping upward to scratch across his nape and dig into the base of his warhawk. Johnny feels his purr drop down his throat to resonate in his chest. Announcing for all who cared to listen that Johnny considered himself to be perfectly safe, cared for, and comfortable. An answering purr kicked on in Simon’s chest and Johnny let himself drift off. 

Knowing Simon wouldn’t hurt him.

Thank You For Reading!

Let's all pray that Dominic wasn't still in the hall by the time Ghost got there, or pray for the opposite, depending on how much you hate Dominic.

So, did y'all know that Tumblr has a "4096-text-characters-per-block limit." ? Cause that was a fun discovery to have while I was trying to put this post together.

I'll admit that this one got minimal editing, if you spot something wrong lemme know!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[leafteaposts]

More ABO stuff pack marks vs bonding marks/bites.

I think Sanji would get two marks. As the ships Omega, (most of my head canons he is the only omega on the crew.)

But! After WCI he feels unsafe, anxious and overall shitty. Luffy doesn’t have any romantically feelings toward him but he is possessive of his pack, and want the world to know Sanji is a STRAW HAT. That he is theirs and no one better think otherwise.

As such, he asks Sanji if he can give him a mark. Not a bonding mark, but a clear warning for others to steer clear of his crew. This is the first mark Sanji (nervously and after an aggressive freak out) accepts and it is drenched with alpha intent to BACK OFF OR ELSE. For an omega if smells safe and gives Sanji a clear feeling of belonging.

Zoro is So jealous after this but is happy to see Sanji reclaim some of his confidence about his place in the crew. After all, no one offers a backbite so close to a bonding area if one is not serious about the pack mates place and status in the pack. And Zoro is of course, very proud of his pack and his captain so he gets over it quickly. But it gives him a lot of motivation to start properly court Sanji. To the mortification of them both.

Sanji lets Luffy reaffirm the mark as it does normally heal over and lose its smell in contrast to a bonding mark, but after getting bitten by Luffy in gear 5th it sticks. Sanji feels to needy and silly for being happy about it and when he and Zorro bonds he is often mistaken for being in a relationship with both by the intense smell from Luffys mark even if it’s not at the nape of his neck or over any scent glands.

Luffy happily offers to give marks to all of his crew mates, but as Alphas it is hard to accept such mark. But the betas happily accept. Nami accepts one on her wrist, Usopp also chooses the wrist and Robin an alpha, surprises them all to accept a mark at the same spot as Sanji, a little below the ear, close to the jugular vein.

As he gets older he is very proud of both marks and makes sure to show them of as much as he can. He gives Luffy small pack marks as well, Sanji is pretty possessive over his pack as well, after all.

[aethermint]

Soooooo who's going to write the ABO Agathario fanfics I have been waiting VERY patiently...

[valyrfia]

exactly if I wanted best friends I would be into piarles which is probably the charles ship i'm least interested in even tho pierre is very obviously the driver charles is closest to in real life

I'm simply not compelled by Piarles, but I've never been compelled by friends to lovers type ships because that's not what I enjoy. I think Piarles makes for an excellent friends to lovers, as does Maxiel but considering my taste in ships outside of F1 is all Rhaenicent, Drarry, Stevetony–Lestappen was going to be a no brainer for me. If I thought their dynamic was just 'best friends', I wouldn't enjoy it. Simple as.

[dnfao3tags]

Sure! I would love an updated omegaverse tag

here you go !

omegaverse dnf

— All I Never Wanted by BirbWatcher (expl. | comp. | 52k)

FBI agent Dream has a new case to solve, and he's assigned to work with an expert in psychology, prickly omega George. The only problem? George always refuses to work with an alpha.

— to overwrite, to love by norethor (mat. | comp. | 3k)

a story about taking risks, healing, and moving on.

— That's how we play it by jestbee (expl. | comp. | 35k)

They both agree it's just until Christmas, just while they're in London. What could possibly go wrong?

— jump start my heart by alisonsomething (expl. | comp. | 17k)

Having just gotten out of a long, stale relationship, Dream finds himself on a trip to London alone. And then he meets George.

— Best That I Can by VicIsWriting (expl. | comp. | 14k)

George accidentally goes into heat on vacation, Dream steps in to help. Even if he isn’t the Alpha George needs.

— Florida Man Dub by Scoops (consciousness_streaming) (expl. | comp. | 5k)

2021 meet up fic, but make it a/b/o

[my-ao3-library]

Pepper, Chocolate, Salt

In a world where ‘normal’ relationships are expected to be between one alpha, one beta, and one omega, alpha Jungkook and beta Jimin have been waiting to meet their fated omega. When they meet eccentric alpha Taehyung instead, things become complicated.

Meanwhile, Jungkook has been carrying a secret he knows will change everything, should he ever tell it: despite starting to display the bodily characteristics of an alpha since puberty, the wolf inside of him is, and has always been, an omega.

30,819 words.

[typicaloddposite]

Destiel A/B/O Mpreg

Based on a dream I had way back when! Re-Written for Destiel :)

[yeyinde]

old, grizzled retired alpha!Price who gets stuck in his cabin with omega!Reader when the winter roads, the only way in and out of his domain, melt with the encroaching spring. and really. what's an alpha like him supposed to do when an untouched, unclaimed omega like you—so sweet, so desperate—is thrown headfirst into a vicious, blistering heat without any suppressants. it's not like either of you really have a choice, after all.

dub con; age difference; power imbalance; rough sex; size difference, size kink; abo dynamics: knotting; breeding kink (astronomical); mean!Price, Dom!Price; unsafe sex; oral (f!receiving); slight innocence kink; implied kidnapping; coercion; slight baby trapping; possessive, greedy Price pulling strings from behind the scenes, as per usual. this is basically Alpha John Price knotting Omega Reader in mating press, bullying you into submission

It's an accident, of course. 

An unfortunate combination of poor timing and human error.

But this accident culminates in Price folding his body over you—mating press, you note a touch hysterically; you'd have expected him to be all tradition: presenting to an alpha on your hands and knees, cunt bare for the taking, waiting to be claimed. And while it might not be traditional, Price will claim you tonight. Bully his cock into your drenched cunt, split you wide on the thick of him, on his knot (fuck, fuck, fuck—), and keep you plugged up around him until the unexpected heat passes. 

And really. What's an old, grizzled alpha like him supposed to do when an untouched, unclaimed omega like you—so sweet, so desperate—is thrown headfirst into a vicious, blistering heat. It's not like either of you really have a choice, after all. It's agony. It's want. Primal, instinctual. You need him. Ache with it. The urge, the desperation, to be filled. Claimed. Conquered. Owned.

As he presses bluntly against your drenching slit, notching heavy and insistent into your fluttering, aching hole, spilling slick in thick rivulets down your thighs, over the engorged head of his cock, you can't help but wonder how could you be so stupid? 

“Spread your legs for me.”

The command rolls off of his tongue, slips—liquid, molten—down his chin, where it dangles for a moment. Pebbled hest. A globbing demand. You want to roll away when it starts to fall, unspooling slowly until it drips down to your chest, but you can't. You're stuck. Trapped. All you can do is watch helplessly as this barking order, matchstick casuistry, touches your kerosene-slick skin, igniting in a bloom of fire that spreads, rapidly, through your veins. Your body. 

An Alpha's whim must be met. Even this one. This one—

Your former chief, boss. Now retired in the mountains, chiselling out a little place for himself in a corrie, pitching this log bivouac beside a marbled blue tarn. Cut off from the rest of civilisation every spring when the only way in—and out—melted into a raging, uncrossable stretch of river. The ravine frothing too furiously for boats to dock safely on either side. Trapped here with him until next winter—

(oh god oh god—)

You don't know how it got to this point. Scorched. Soaked. With him leaning over you, in all his tartarean glory, making demands of your body as easily as pulling on loose thread between his thick fingers. 

You could blame Gaz for this. 

Sat pretty at his desk, idling a jar of gun oil in his hands. Your gun is spread out on the desk, taken apart. Worrying his lip between his teeth, he said, “someone should check in on Price. Haven't heard from him in a while.” 

Through a quick game of hierarchy, that someone ended up being you. Forced to trek halfway up a mountain just to make sure your mercurial boss didn't die over the winter. Bitten off more than he could chew and too much of a proud Alpha to admit defeat, and call for help. 

You had enough suppressants to last you there and back. Three days. One in the morning, one in the afternoon. Price, despite his surly disposition, is an intense Alpha to be around—

Even for Betas. 

Some, unintentionally, succumb to his whims without even a forethought spared on rationality. It's innate. He says something, and people listen—

Like now. Hours after you discovered your suppressants were gone, and his heavy, cloying scent thickened in the air, suffocating you. When he leaned against the thick log doorframe on the porch of his cabin, thick arms folded across his broad chest, murmured, “come all this way just to see me?” and all at once, the world fell out from under you—

Plunging you into his arms, his embrace. His growl in your ear, “you’re in heat,” he grunted, fists balled against your sides. “fuckin’ Christ—” and the death sentence he imparted on you: “either I take care of this, or your heat becomes too much for me, and I tear you to pieces. But it doesn't matter does it, mm? You can't make it back down in this state,” more snarling anger, dry heat. Scorching. His chin jerked to the river at the foot of the mountain. “In a few hours, It’ll be melted through. Uncrossable.”

Per usual, John Price leaves you very little room for choice, doesn't he? 

Slowly, shakily, your pitched knees part, unveiling your bare cunt to the man towering over you with a condescending coo on his lips, red-hot desire in his smouldering Tartarean eyes. 

“Tha’s it,” he murmurs, voice full of sarky delight. “Such a good omega for me, aren't you?”

It’s not meant to be answered—the jeer chock full of hyperbole. Despite this, your body responds instantly. Back arching, legs spreading out wider around the bulk of his frame, nearly flush against the warmed fur covering the floor of the cabin—wolf, he muttered proudly before he pushed you down against the soft pelt, mouthing teasing at your jaw. Chest heaving. Fingers curling, knotting into the pelt. 

The urge to present for him is intense. An unanswerable call when he pins you down on your back, body a cage keeping you trapped where you lay. Open, inviting. All for him. 

This surly, awful man—

His hands are rough, padded with calluses and hard, jagged scars that jut up from his flesh. It feels abrasive, sandpaper grit, when he leans down, hand pressed against your knee. The drag, then, when he lets it drop down the skin of your inner thigh, makes you keen in the back of your throat. Gnarled palms bleed heat into your soft skin. The contrast is dizzying—size, scale, texture; it all leaves you breathless. Victim to your own instincts, ones that scream at you to roll over. To run. To make this massive, virile alpha yours—

He cups your pussy in the palm of his hand, heel pressed against your clit, fingers sliding between your slit, touching your entrance with the tip of his middle finger. The way the length of it swallows you whole, long, thick fingers reaching beneath you, grazing the cheeks of your ass, sets you on fire in a way you've never felt before. 

Price sees it. He must. He leans back on his haunches, broad chest heaving as he stares, transfixed, at his hand folding over you, wrist propped against your mons. 

He groans low in his chest. When he speaks, desire scorches his words to cinders. 

“Ever had an Alpha's cock here?” 

His question is scorching. 

In a small town, choice is slim. The ratio of alpha to omega, and beta to both, is skewed highly in the latter's favour. You think, Price included, there are maybe five eligible alphas in the whole township. Two omegas, yourself included. Everyone else—

Unbothered, unburdened by this horrific anomaly of genetics, of lingering animal instinct. A relic of when people were more beast than man. 

But even with that, the suitors lining up ready to claim you since you arrived three years ago is negligible. Nearly nonexistent. 

The shame of it is absurd. You know without any shadow of a doubt that your worth is not measured by the number of Alpha's wanting to claim you, but that prickling unease in the back of your head won't be quelled by common sense. Who cares, you want to scream. Who fucking cares—

“No,” you bluster; choking on your anger, your shame. Despite being an omega—rare as they are—everyone in town seemed soured by your scent. Adverse to the pungent pheromones you released innately. 

“No?” He echoes, and the stab of worthlessness needling into your pericardium makes you want to howl, want to cry. 

He doesn't let you. He leans down, hand resting on the floor beside your head, the other still anchored to your cunt, and presses his lips to the shell of your ear. His breath is a humid kiss that tickles across your flesh. 

“Good.” 

The praise bubbles in your marrow. You melt under the heat, whimpering. Head lulling to the side, exposing your neck. Offered up for him to take. 

He huffs, chest expanding. The coarse bed of hair tangled on his sternum in a smattering of black catches on your nipples, the rough graze making you gasp, soundless, into the humid space between your bodies. Aching already and he barely touched you. 

Price follows the twist of your chin, lips pressed flush to your ear. With him crowding so close, you can feel the rumble, the low vibration, through his chest before he even speaks. A soft purr, sultry and rich. Pulling you deeper into the throes of your submission with a startling ease. 

“I don't share, and I'd hate to have to tear another alpha apart for touching you,” his beard scrapes against your cheek, words soaked in possessive fury at the thought alone. “You're mine.”

You want to fight against it. Against him. No one owns you. Has claimed you.

You have only ever belonged to yourself. 

“M’not—”

Price shushes you with a nip, blunt teeth dragging down the plush flesh of your earlobe. “Don't fight it, love. Just—give in.”

You won't. Can't—

Despite the heat—heavy, oppressive, and wet, like the balmy swelter of a tropical jungle; bubbling dross on molten metal—you fight. Rage. Push back against the heady scent he exudes, ones meant to soothe, melt. Until you're malleable. Tensile. Mouldable to fit his needs, his desires, his cock. Putty in his scorching hands. 

It bleeds through, though—noxious and potent. The acrid miasma of a wild, untameable man: leather, hide, and animal rot; bleached bones; felled timbre. A wet forest after a wildfire; charred wood, argillaceous soil. Damp. Cloying. Choking. 

Reeking of authoritative power, he leans over you, breathes in the heaving exhales you let out. Lets the taste of you sit on his tongue, curl between his crooked teeth. 

He's close like this. All fire, all heat. And underneath the scent of a pursuing alpha, you pick up hints of him. Of what he smelled like before, when you were his subordinate and he spent most of his days making yours miserable. Stale smoke, wet tobacco, old leather, dry whiskey. 

You hate how much it calls to you. 

Maybe sensing your defiance, or growing tired of this push-pull game, he huffs out a breath that sounds less aggrieved than you'd want it to, full of playful amusement. Like he expected this. Like he knew you'd fight back with brittle fists and wicked teeth. 

Price pulls back, leaning against his haunches. Content now to devour you at a distance. His eyes leave a scorching trail from your heaving breast, your quivering stomach before fixing once again on the way your pussy is swallowed by his hand. His middle finger circles your sopping hole. The tease is a burst of pleasure, of sensation. A tickle, a taunt. The drag of it makes a loud, sticky noise; the unmistakable slosh, the squelch of just how wet you are for him. 

And it is for him. All for him. 

Your heat is an incipient bloom on the horizon—a slow, crawling sunrise. You shouldn't be this slick yet. This drenched. 

The embarrassment blisters through you when he makes a choked sound in the back of his throat. A loan bitten, swallowed before it can fully form. 

Price coos, voice scorched. Full of char. “All’fer me, mm? Such a good little omega.”

You hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it—

—but nearly choke yourself on a moan. 

He chuckles, dark and rich. The sound entirely too similar to crushing a fistful of charcoal, and you're reminded suddenly why he's unmated at the age he is. 

Surly bastard. As approachable as a fucking grizzly bear in a rut. 

Your lips twist, jerking downward. “Fuck you—”

He circles your rim once more, chuffing low as he does so, letting the slick noise of your soaked cunt speak on his behalf. 

You bite back a snarl, letting it fizzle out in the back of your throat. However reckless you might be, however much you might dislike him, he's still an alpha. Snarling in his face would only get you bent over his knee (at best). 

And at worst, well. Maybe they'll find whatever is left of you next spring. 

Next spring. 

Thinking about just how long you're trapped here with him—no phone, no service—makes you want to cry. To break down, to—

No. You can't. Won't. Not in front of him. 

Not Price. The awful man who spent three years picking away at everything you've ever done. Writing you up for every little misstep. You wondered then, and you still wonder now, if he hated you because you were an omega who dared to work with him, as his equal, or if his brand of distaste was just for you. 

(The latter, it must be—he’s always been so kind to Alex, an older omega. 

You're just the exception.)

This sprawling train of thought is clipped when he sinks his finger into you, to the second knuckle, and you choke. 

“Ah, fuck, don't—”

He curls his finger. “Protest as much as you'd like, but if you didn't want this, your pussy wouldn't be this fuckin’ wet would it, love?”

He's right. You hate him for it. 

But he doesn't give you a chance to complain. He slips his finger out, the wet drag of your flesh pulling on him, unwilling to let go, is loud. Awful. You burn hot—hotter still when he groans at the noise. 

“Such a good girl for me, ain't you?” 

Price circles your entrance as he says it, pressing two fingers against your rim, rubbing. Gathering slick. You wish it didn't feel as good as it did—electric shocks of pleasure sparking at his touch, but the feel of it is a tease. You want more. Much more—

He presses those long, thick fingers inside again. Two this time. All you can do is mewl around the sudden stretch, the sting. 

Your discomfort is a palpable thing. Unease, distress—the acid scent plumes around you, leaking from your pores. Price stops suddenly, fingers still crooked in a half knot inside you. 

“You're tight,” he drawls, jowls working. Tensing. His eyes flash, heat lightning. “You—”

He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes narrowing into slits. They drop down to where he disappears inside of you, flesh stretched tight around him. Drilling into the way the slick runs down his fingers, over his knuckles, drenching the back of his hand, and he hums. 

“Has anyone ever touched you here before?”

More shame. It bubbles in your chest, this awful, insidious thing. 

It hasn't been for a lack of suitors, really. But rather, other things have always taken precedence over heats, over ruts. School, then your career. And well—

Betas around here don't seem very interested, either. 

Maybe you have peculiar wants. Urges, needs, that you've always been hesitant to fill. A wellspool of desire that runs deep, vicious. You want to mate. For keeps. 

Maybe they can scent that on you. A loud cry that says, stay away. 

You take a shuddering breath before nodding shallowly, twisting your head away so you don't have to look at the patronising gleam swirling in frothing Tryhennian. 

“Look at me.”

The command bludgeons your resolve. Your chin jerks back immediately. Desperate to obey. To listen. Frantic with the urge to quell the alpha, to soothe his plight—

But where you expect anger, you're met with the most peculiar sort of expression etching itself into his brow, his rugged face. 

His lips parted, lax. The picture of surprise.

Your eyes widen. A gasp is ripped from your throat at the raw, fractured look in his eyes. It's new, this. Unexpected. Where you anticipated scorn is instead a slow, unwinding look of want, of greed, so thick, it glues to the air. 

Patchwork hunger, predatory and damning, hews into your skin. Fine needles piercing, pricking, along your flesh. 

Branded ownership. You feel it settle against your chest. Dig in when his chest expands with his, hissing inhale. 

There's a dark tremble to his shoulders that makes your toes curl. 

“I should take this slow, then, mm? Prep you. Get you nice and ready for my cock,” his words have you keening, arching for him. Achingly empty. His hand lifts, settles against your quivering stomach. The slightest pressure makes you shake, quieten; submitting to the touch. “But. I don't have the patience for that.” 

He slots his thighs between your legs, pressing it tight against your cunt. The pressure—blissful pleasure; frantic at the touch—is almost your undoing, but there's a plexiglass between full submission and the urge to flee. Still. The heat is rapacious. The desire, the yearning, doesn't abate. 

The haze is thick. So thick. It would be easy to slip under the veil, to let yourself go. To give in—

"Easy, omega," it comes out as a guttural rasp; the charcoaled command uttered in a mockingly placating tone. The sort one might use to soothe a wild animal or a startled mare. Fitting, of course, when you're rutting against the thick spread of his thigh, leaking slick all over him.

down girl, he doesn't say, but he might as well have because you're clenched tight around nothing, aching hollowly in a way that rings through your bones. You can't help it, you want to whine when he huffs, lips pulling downward in a frown. Disappointed in you, perhaps. But how do you fight instinct when you're hardwired to want to spread your legs at the pungent, lour stench of a virile alpha's incipient rut, the briny tang of his pre-cum saturating the air. A heady elixir that sends shockwaves of agonising need through your body.

It's too much. The burn of your heat is a vicious, deadly combatant. Knife to your jugular, hand around your throat, it demands compliance. 

And when he reaches down to his stained slacks, drawing your eye to the tent in the front, to the dark pool at the front where he leaks his spend into the fabric, you keen. Jealousy scorching through you instantly at the sight; animal instinct that makes you want to bare your teeth at it because his cum is just for you, all for you—

Amusement pierces the air. Punctuates it with the heavy, noxious weight of his satisfaction. 

He hums, reaches into his slacks. Curls his fist around the thick of himself. 

“Want this, don't you?” 

You gnash your teeth against your desperation, legs popping open further. Inviting. Eager. 

“Of course you do. Want this—” he frees his cock, pulling it over the band of his trousers, and you choke. 

It's wet with his spend, and angry looking. The mushroomed head engorged, swollen. Flushed a deep vermillion. Veins run the length of it. Pulsing with his need. His want. 

Price groans, strokes his hand down his shaft. Pearlescent beads of pre-cum bubble up from the tip. 

You ache. Suddenly, viciously. Hollow. Empty. You want him. Need him—

“Yeah? Want this fat cock inside of you, mm?”

And you, finally, give in—

"Please, please, Price—"

"No." He taps the head of his cock against your clit once, twice. A warning. A reprimand. You keen at the whitehot agony, the unfathomable burn of pleasure ripping through your body. He coos into it. Echoing your whimper with a derisive snort. Mocking. Cruel. You hate him. Hate him. Need him so badly you think you might go insane if he doesn't pry you apart right this instant—

"I'll give you my knot when I'm good and ready. Now, be good for me, mm?” His eyes are dark in the harsh flicker of the wood stove. Burning liquid black. Molten puddles of crushed sapphire. You hate the way he looks at you. Hate how it makes you want to roll over on your belly, soft and submissive, giving all of yourself over to this terrible man. “That's it. Good omegas get what they want. Bad ones get punished. And I don't think you'll like being taken over my knee, would you?"

His words send a fresh wave of heat through your veins. Hellfire. Scorching. You want to blame the fever on the stove burning away in the corner of the room, on a sickness you can't scrape off of your bones no matter how many times you chisel into your skin. An infection eating away at you from the inside out. 

But it's futile. He doesn't care about your excuses. He never has—

“Spread yourself. Go on and show me that pretty cunt you want me to ruin so badly.” 

Unspooled, liquid under his bulk, you don't even hesitate before your fingers unfurl from their fight knot in the fur, making a slow, timorous crawl down the supine length of your sun-scorched body. 

Your flesh feels foreign, like it belongs to a stranger. To someone else. Each touch is a phantom whisper gliding along sweat-slicked skin; new and different, and not yours. 

Not yours at all because your skin would never prickle with goosebumps over the sight of your chief kneeling between your legs, the hair on his thigh matted, slick with your wetness. The unruly black thatch darkening into a patch where you shamelessly rutted against him, eagerly seeking friction over the place you ache the most. 

For him. All for him. 

It's impossible. Impossible. And yet—

As your fingers curl over the tops of your thighs, notching into the soft, heated flesh at the bend of your hip and groin, you feel just how soaked you are for him. How wet. How eager. It stains your skin, reaches almost down your bent knees. Beneath you is a puddle drenching the fur. 

Your fingers slip, sliding in the mess you made. You flush when he huffs, humoured by it all, and dip your chin away from the scorching, piercing look in his cerulean eyes, drilling holes in the apex of your thighs. Greedily taking in his fill as your fingers glide over your sopping folds, gingerly parting them. Presenting to him on your back. Ripe for the taking. 

“One hand,” he rasps, words clicking in his throat. He holds his hand up, curling his fingers down and leaving his index and middle finger up in a pointed V. “And the other—” he swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing. “I want you to touch your clit for me.” 

You follow his instructions, slipping your fingers between your folds, opening yourself up for him. Your other hand sits on your mons, fingertips brushing your swollen clit as heat floods you. Electric. Each touch is a shock of pleasure roiling down your spine, and more slick dribbles out of you, dripping down your aching, empty hole, down your ass, until it soaks into the furs below. 

The scent of a needy omega fills the air. Your scent. 

Where most are sweet, supple, yours has always had a bite. A tartness to it, an earthy tang. Boysenberry. Loam. Lemongrass. Beeswax. You bluster. Flushing. Embarrassment plumes up, mushrooming in the air—smoked orange peels, coral berry sour—and you wonder if he's repelled by it, this strange smell of yours—

Price’s head rolls back, nose pitched in the air. Breathing in deep, groaning with his exhale. Eyes fluttering, flashing. He eats it clean from the air. Mouth dropping open, panting. 

It's then when the unmistakable musk of a pleased Alpha—smoked tobacco and sage—clots beside your scent do you feel the prickle of free will hewing into your periphery. 

None of what he demanded of you carried the unignorable weight of a command. Before you can even think of the ramifications of that, he's moving. Heavy body falling, sliding down the furs. His hands come to rest, hot and firm, on your knees, spreading you wider, wider, to fit the boxy heft of his broad body between them. 

He hovers over you, head bending to fit in the brackets of your thighs. Leading with nose, nostrils flaring, fluttering, as he pulls in deep lungfuls of your scent. Over and over, and—

His head bows. Humid air ghosting over your sopping cunt when he exhales. It's then when he dips his chin further, further, until the bottom of his face is flush with your pussy, mouth parting around a groan that reverberates through the floorboards, rattles your bones. 

“You smell s’fuckin’ good, love,” he rasps, choked. His eyes are gyres. They might just swallow you whole. You fight back a shiver, resolve threadbare. Stitches coming apart. “Bet you'd taste even better.”

It's all the warning you get before he pushes his face into you, mouth dropping open to let his tongue lull out. Licking a scorching stripe from hole to clit. And, oh—

Oh. 

Your head drops, eyes slipping closed at the liquid feeling between your thighs. The whitehot sensation of his tongue laving across your slit. 

So this—this—is what you've been missing out on. Pure feeling. Molten. It blooms in your loins, knots tight like a spooled bow. 

Your fingertips are in the way from him pressing his tongue flat against your clit, where you throb the most, and you move to pull your hand away. To give him access to everything, all of it. Every part of you he wants. It's all his, his, so long as he keeps doing what he's doing with his mouth, his tongue—

But his hand slashes through the air, snatching your wrist in a vice grip. Stopping your retreat. You whimper, hips flexing up, wanting his mouth. Needing more of what he's doing between your thighs. 

“Look at me,” he demands. You obey. Instantly. His eyes are black holes. Everdark. Eclipsed, totally, by the bleed of his black pupils spreading out. You moan, thighs parting wider, wider. “Good girl. Such a good omega for me, aren't you?”

He doesn't let you answer. Draws your wet fingers to his mouth, pressing the pads against his lower lip, nails scratching his teeth. He breathes in, shoulders bunching up. Eyes fluttering again, rolling back in his head. And it's divine—

To have such a surly, contemptuous Alpha on his knees for you, fat, heavy cock drooping between his thighs, spitting a steady stream of spend onto the floor. Wasteful. You keen again, back arching. Needy. Wanting—

Price sucks in your fingers, tongue laving between your knuckles. The pressure, the feeling, is good. You like this. Like his mouth. 

But your fingers are not where you want him. 

“Please, Price. Please—”

He pulls off with a pop. Leans his cheek on your inner thigh. 

“What do you want? Use your words, omega.”

Heat blooms in your chest, but you're long past the point of embarrassment anymore. Shame. It's all awash under the torrent of need. Desire. Swept in the rage of your heat. Nearly rendered delirious by it. 

“Want your mouth.”

“Where?”

“M–my—” you swallow, fingers spreading your folds wider. Opening yourself up to him. He glances down, nostrils flaring once again. But he doesn't move. Won't. You groan, head rolling back. “My pussy. Please. Want your mouth on my pussy, Price—”

He groans, low. Dark. But then he's moving. Head bowing. His tongue is scorching. Whitehot. He drags it through your folds, teasing at your rim. Presses it inside, just a touch, a shallow thrust. And—

Ah. 

You make a noise in the back of your throat. Awful, wet. Choking. The feeling of his tongue inside of you is good. Beyond words. 

It slips in more. The full length. Stuffed. You keen, arching. Aching. Hips flexing, jerking against his mouth. He lets you ride his face like this, fucking your hole with his fat tongue, nose glued tight to your clit. 

All you can do is sob his name, fingers curling, knotting, into his damp hair, holding him close. 

His tongue leaves you, sliding up your seam until it cups your clit. Laves over it. He lifts his chin, and seals his mouth over you. Sucks—

The spool unravels. Pressure released. You flood around him, on him. Pussy gushing slick over his chin, drenching him. Drowning him. 

Lips sealed over your throbbing clit, he moans low. Deep. Eyes rolling back in his head. Gyre blue. 

“Tha’s it,” he coos, pushing two thick fingers inside your throbbing cunt. “Think you're about ready for my cock, ain't you?” 

He doesn't let you answer. And—

You don't think you can form a coherent thought. Running on sensation. On instinct. You make to roll over on your belly, ass pushed into the air, ready for his knot, but he stops you. Hands squeezing your hips. Firm. 

“No. I'll take you like this.” 

And it's hard to reconcile the urge to present with his demands. His wants. You whimper. He answers it with a grunt. 

“Stay still.” 

You flatten to the fur, body melting. Lax. 

“Good girl.”

The praise is a serrated knife to your jugular, cutting a jagged line across your skin. Spilling blood. You quieten under his bulk, now. Desperate. Docile. Collared in blood. 

His hands push behind your knees, lifting your legs. Pushing, pushing. Until they rest under your ears. Spread open for him. Ready to be claimed, owned. Bred. 

“Price, Price, please—”

He shushes you with a coo, pitching your heels over his shoulders. Shuffling closer until his heavy cock, hanging thick and fat between his legs, bumps against your ass. Your cunt. You whimper, back arching. Needing him to fill you up. Split you apart. 

Ruin you—

“Gonna fuck you now. Knot you.”

It's a warning. A threat. You feel it trail over your skin, branding. A collar. You lift your chin, letting it settle there. So long as he makes you feel this good, he can do whatever he wants to you. Anything—

And so, he does. 

His cock is a heavy weight against you, pressing. Pushing. He doesn't wait for you to adjust, for your body to acclimate to the burning stretch of him splitting you apart. 

Your slick aids in the brutal onslaught of his cock prying your untouched flesh apart, chiselling open a space just for him to fit. 

It should hurt more. And maybe it would if you weren't drowning in the throes of a vicious heat, numbed to everything but the way his cock feels as it slides, inch after inch, inside of you. Thick, fat. Pulsing. You pant shallowly, head turning. Chin pressing into your shoulder. 

It's good. This burn, this ache. This madness—

“Christ—” he spits, sounding almost angry. Furious. You peer up at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. Through the murky haze, you catch the clench of his jaw, the prominent divot between his brows. Face tightening with pleasure. Rapturous. “This cunt was made for me, wasn't it, love?”

“Yes—” it's breathless. An airless whisper. “All yours, all yours, John—”

You repeat this as he reaches halfway inside of you. As he bends down, mouth feverish he slots it greedily over your lips in a bruising, sloppy kiss. You mutter it against his teeth, his tongue. He swallows your acquiescence, your submission, down with a moan. Drinks you in as he takes, takes, until you're full of him. Stuffed. 

John bottoms out with a moan that trembles down your throat, balls pressed flush against your ass. Split apart on him. Claimed. 

He settles, letting you adjust to the sensation. Content to simply mouth sloppy kisses over your face, your cheek, jaw. Nipping your skin. Basking in this, in finally having you stretched around him. His pleasure is ripe in the air. Heavy and acrid. Smoked leather. Fresh, and heady. 

It's novice, this feeling. This pressure. This fullness. Your hand drops, falls, palm sliding between his heavy, hairy belly, resting over yours. Feeling the unmistakable bump of him rearranging your anatomy to fit—barely—in you. 

He lifts up, elbow dropping to the floor beside your head so he, too, can feel for himself the way he fits within you. His hand comes to lay beside yours, flattening over the bulge of him protruding from your flesh. His cock jerks inside of you, twitching. The feeling makes your toes curl, your cunt throb. 

“Like that, huh?” 

Your nod is slowly, languorous. Everything feels unreal. Like you're staring at the world from underwater. Inky. Fractured. Raw. 

The burn of the stretch is there, throbbing like a bruise. A contusion. He scents the sting, the ache, and slides his hand down, cupped over your swollen, stuffed pussy. Fingers tangling into the thick bed of curls grazing your mons. Price quells the burn with a swipe of his thumb rolling over your clit. 

It has you clenching, tightening even further around him. Feeling the thick stretch thrumming inside of you. Plugging you up. And fuck—

If that doesn't just light you up from the inside out. Supernova. Blistering heat. 

Pieces of yourself chip off, fluttering to the soft, downy fur below you with each heavy breath he takes. Your heat swells to a crescendo, breaking over the edge of your lingering cognisance. It's all sensation now. Pure, unfettered feeling.

And Price takes no time at all to exploit it. To batter your melting, liquid body into submission even further. 

It starts with shallow grinds against the plug of your womb. Carving more space inside of you for him to fit, to ruin. 

He fucks you like this. Cock heavy and fat inside of you. Giving you the full length until your rim catches on the burgeoning swell of his knot. Over and over again. Pulling deep, delirious moans from your throat. Breaking you to pieces on the spread of him seated deep. Tugging more and more compliance from your body, wringing pleasure out of every nerve ending. 

The sounds are horrific, and had you any sense of self left to mull over them, your shame, embarrassment, would have burned you alive. The wet squelch of your cunt swallowing him down, over and over and over again—

“Needy little pussy,” he bites out, blunt teeth skirting over your pulse point. A tease. 

The press of them heightens everything, elevating it to a tipping point. 

This is what you were made for. What every atom in your body screams out to. Wanting. Needing to be spread out under him, this dark, awful man. 

“I'm not going to claim you,” he's saying, words wet against your temple, tongue snaking out to catch the droplets of sweat beading on your hairline. 

It makes you whine in dismay, desperate for his teeth buried in your skin. 

“No, no, please—! I need it, John, I need it—”

“Then beg me. Beg for it—”

You do. It babbles out of you. Broken, fractured. Pleas, orisons, screamed to heavens; aching for his teeth on you, in you. Claiming you for his own. You want it more than you think you've ever wanted anything in your whole thing. Half of you, empty and vacant, hollow, begging to be filled. To be completed. 

And really—

You've felt it from the beginning. This stirring, agonising want. Desire. A bone-deep yearning for the man who looked at you, up and down, and dismissed you with a charred scoff and shallow shake of his head. 

“What's a little omega like you doin’ runnin’ around the woods, love? Ought to be at home—”

Where you belong. 

It didn't make sense at the time. He's so different with everyone else—Alex, Farah—but reserves his scorn, his discrimination, just for you. Special little thing, aren't you? 

But even still. Still. You tried. Struggled against the crushing weight of his derision, burying your fingers into the rubble, clinging on for three, devastating years until your nails broke, bled. Left stains on the pavement. Until he, stiff-lipped and clipped, told you he was retiring. Escaping the loose binds of a non-existent town on the fringes of civilisation for the sanctum of the wild, untamed forest. The mountains. 

You wanted him to say, come with me, even if you might have gouged his eyes out for even asking. Tore his still-beating heart out with your bare hands. 

But instead, he nodded at you. A quiet goodbye. Left you bewildered, furious, and unclaimed, unwanted, and now—

Those blood-stained fingers dig into the softness of his nape, biting flesh until it gives, breaks, under the jagged stumps of your nails, and you wrench him forward, into you, snarling mad. Apoplectic with fury at being denied so long. 

“Fuck you,” you bite out, brittle with ire. Disobedient even through the noxious curdle of heat subduing your senses. Your rationale. “Fuck you, John—!”

His skin breaks first. The bitter scent of hot, wet pavement, pennies in the summer sun, sickly sweet iron, fills the balmy cabin. He groans, choked, throat bobbing, jaw clenching. You don't let him get anything out. 

You pull him by the scruff of his neck into you, face buried in your collarbones. Heels dig in, sliding along the slick sweat of his broad back. Finding purchase against the knob of his spine, and pressing. Pushing. Kicking at him until he slots his hips into yours, pressed as deep as he could possibly go. Throbbing inside of you. Spitting molten spend as he wrenches you open. 

The first person to ever do so. 

He must know this, feel it simmering in the air, because he groans low, deep. It bubbles out of his chest, a half-bitten snarl saturated in the smoke of his desire. Feverish, possessive. 

“Mate me,” you demand, head tilting back into the awaiting plinth of his palm, cushioning your crown. “Claim me.”

He—John, you think, delirious; gone—John places a tender kiss to your pulse point, soft despite the uneven, desperate way he fucks into you now. All that careful finesse falling to pieces under your foot, growing choppier as he sinks in deep. Pistoning shallowly into your sloppy cunt, taking. Taking. 

“Please, John,” you breathe, clenching tight around him. Needing that last push to drop over this vertiginous precipice that yawns out, a growling, hungry chasm, before you. Heat spears into your marrow, drowning out all the fight inside of you. Dousing those flames until they're a smouldering heap; clumps of hot, wet ash in your hands. “Please take me—”

The growl he makes is inhuman. Lingering in the shadow of it is a mocking burst of laughter. Dark, hellish. He leans in close, mouth tight against your skin, and whispers, “already have, love.”

Those words lose any meaning when he opens his mouth wider, licking a stripe over your neck. A soothing rinse. And then he buries his teeth into your pulse, tearing through your skin. Claiming. Owning. It rips through you—all heat, sensation: blistering, inferno. You burn alive beneath him, smouldered under his possessive, heavy bulk.

Price leans back with a vicious, terrible growl. Blood dripping down his chin, mixing with the tacky slick of you still covering his face. Pinkish under the waning light of the dying sun. 

The sight of it, the horrible throb in your throat, breaks over you.

His tongue flicks out, chasing the drops. With a swipe of his finger over your clit, you fall to pieces around him, clenching. Throbbing. Screaming with your release. Gushing around him as he grips you tight, working you through it, muscles fluttering, flexing. The deluge of pleasure is molten, spreading liquid through your body. Inescapable bliss. 

He grunts, pace slowing to a sloppy grind. Letting you leech pleasure from the overfull feeling of being speared open on him. Knot swelling. Bumping into your rim. John gives you respite for a moment, content to hump against your messy cunt until you melt into the furs, panting with exertion. With pleasure. 

He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, stroking. Shoving you into the side of too much, of pleasure-pain. Overstimulated. You mewl, whimpering. 

“Greedy girl,” he chides, cruel, and pulls back. The wet drag of his cock against your sore, sensitive walls is overwhelming. You keen, shaking under him. “Couldn't wait to cum around my knot, mm?” 

He doesn't wait for your excuses. He never does. He just thrusts into you again, a slow climb until his knot bludgeons into you. Fatten up at the base of his cock. He holds it there, grinding it against your pussy as you arch, mewling at the sting of your hole being stretched further around the curve of his knot. 

“You can take it,” he coos. The muscles in his shoulders flex. You reach out, petting along his chest. feeling him. All powerful, corded muscles hiding under a thick layer of pelt. Soft flesh. 

His knot catches. Slips. He bullies it against your sore, stuffed rim, throwing the full heft of his weight behind his shallow grinds until finally, finally, your body yields. Giving in. Opening for him. 

He sinks in with a broken groan, mouth dropping open. Lax. His shoulders slump under your hands as he pumps you full of cum. Plugged up tight on his fat, pulsing knot. It's too much. Too much. All you do is cling to him, nails biting into his flesh. Marking him like the bloody ring around your neck marks you as his. 

Locked together, damned, he leans down. Huffs in your ear. 

“Gonna fuck you full all spring until it takes, love. Until you're swollen, fat, with our kid.” His voice is a thunderclap. A promise. A threat. “Won't keep them lonely for long, though, will you? We'll give him a sister or brother. Gonna breed this pussy as much as I want, mm. Give us a big family. I've already started on the nursery for you. After your heat, I'll let you pick the colours, yeah?”

Satiated Alpha permeates the air. It's thick in the back of your throat, clogging your senses. Drowning you. Pulling you under. 

The last thought before you sink below the waterline is a broken, fragmented sense of dread, confusion. It comes in a daze. Flickering embers. Quickly snuffed out by his palm gliding across your eyes, closing them. 

“Sleep now,” he rasps, hips stuttering as he fills you with more cum. Uncomfortably full, it floods your cunt, locked tight against your womb. “Gonna need it when my rut starts later.” 

And, docile, collared, you obey, drifting. Dazed. But wondering, in the back of your head, in the part of you not yet consumed by the ink-black darkness that eats away at you, why did he build a nursery for you if he didn't know you were coming today—

—swallowed, eaten. his teeth are buried in your neck once more, and all thoughts dissolve in an instant. Dissipate into the gnawing aether where he splits them between his molars, gulps them down. 

nothing matters anymore. you belong to him—

The cabin reeks of satiated omega—sweet, pungent. Rotten apple peels, and burnt orange. It's this heavy scent—sex, loam, and you—that draws him out of his doze, tired eyes blinking against the flickering light of the wood stove pushed into the corner. 

Price groans when he shifts, body aching. Muscles stiff, sore, from disuse. 

It’s been a long, long time since he knotted an omega, and he underestimated the sharpness of your claws, your needle-like teeth. But he wears the marks, the scars, of your aggressive coupling on his shoulders, his back. Clawed up, torn. He grimaces when a clotting scab breaks, peels back from the wound. Blood drips down his spine in a steady, ticklish trickle. 

It took a lot more than he expected to make you submit. Had to force you to take his knot twice more before you finally, fully, relented, slurring his name into the sheets as he rutted into you from behind, begging for your Alpha to fill you up. 

Had you again after that—so soft and sweet for him now. Pulled you down on his lap, let you take what you wanted from him, sluggish and lazy, until he gripped your hips tight, fucking up into you as he thickened with his release. Plugged you up nicely as you drooled on his shoulder, lulled to sleep from three brutal rounds of fucking. 

But the battle was worth the victory in the end. To have you tucked into his chest, purring with contentment and too blissed out from heat exhaustion to worry about anything else, was enough. More than, really. 

Especially now, with you curled on him, snoring lightly, breath tickling his chest hair, he feels more sated than he ever had, breathing in the heaviness of your smell. Your thick miasma. New, now. Different. 

His scent, his mere essence within you, changes your smell already. Chemicals admixing. Body moulding, morphing, to adapt to him. His presence. You smell like the sea, salt water. Algae blooms. He leans down, breathes you in. Tastes his own headiness in the back of his throat—charred timber, smoke; leather. It clings to you. A second skin. 

No matter where you go, everyone will know you belong to him. 

This thought, this truism, makes him purr. A deep rumble from the pit of his gut. Satisfaction rolls off of him in towering waves, hewing the air where it congeals into plumes of conquest. Hard earned, too—

Three years. It only took three years to get to this point. To chisel under your skin, to break you down in his paws. Fine powder. 

He lifts his hand from your back, and scours it down his salt-slickened face. He feels heat blooming under his skin. A telltale flush of his approaching rut. Perfectly timed, too. And that reminds him—

He pushes away from you slightly, spent cock slipping free from your warm, drenched cunt. His cum drips out of you, a deluge that leaks steadily onto your thigh, the ruined fur below. It puddles there and stains the air with his unmistakable musk. The conquering of an omega in heat; claimed. Owned. 

He doesn't go far. Can't. There's a possessive, needy thrill under his veins. A snarling growl in the back of his head, snapping rabid jowls at him. Demanding he stay close to his mate. His omega. Don't leave the nest, it warns, or another could crawl in, fill the empty space—

Price cuts that thought off with an aborted snarl. There are no others. He made sure of it. Bloodied his knuckles against every alpha within a one-hundred-square-mile radius of his territory. Growled in their faces, hand against their throat, and told them to stay away from, you, this pretty little omega. 

Message received, of course. But you were a prickly little thing. Bitter. As much as he wanted to roll you on your belly, make you present your cunt to him, he knew he had to tread carefully. Baby steps until you were close enough to his jaws to snap up, all his. Always. Ever since you stepped foot into his domain, your tart scent coalescing perfectly with the pine, oakmoss, tang of him. You've been his before you even knew who he was—

Wily omega with your shaking fists and bared teeth. Skittish little thing. Needed to play his hand slowly, to box you into a corner before you were even aware of the walls closing in around you. Snapped up tight his maw. Bear Trap quick. Had to be smart about it, bide his time. Push and push until all you thought about was him. 

(checkmate)

John reaches for the loose floorboard, prying it open, and pulls his cell phone out—one he knows he’ll have to bury in the yard before you wake. There are very few contacts on his list, and he idly scrolls through the messages (steaming Jesus, the smell o’er—ye sure ye don’ share, cap?; better take her, Price, before I do) before he finds Gaz’s. 

The last message sent was hours ago from Kyle. on her way. but fuck, didn't realise how fast fake suppressants worked, chief. gonna have to find her quick. might not make it up the mountain smellin as good as she does—

Good boy, he types with one hand, the other petting possessively down your spine. Curled there, a weighty pressure. You found him in the end, right on the cusp of your burgeoning heat. Pawing desperately for the suppressants Kyle made sure wouldn't be there. 

(His parting gift brought on by a conversation ages ago—

“why haven't you mated, cap? not gettin’ any younger.”

“haven't found the right one. ain't gonna settle.”

“more like, your shitty attitude scares all the pretty omegas away, huh?”

“that, too,” he bit down into his cigar. suddenly angry, viciously so. “‘cept one.” 

Kyle followed his gaze, and—

“so, take her. she wants you. reeks like she does. you can smell it, too, can't you?” his eyes flashed. playful. “maybe that'll be my retirement gift to you.”

“not funny, Garrick.”

“m’not tryin’ t’be, cap.”)

Three dots appear almost instantly. It takes a moment. Then: fuckin’ prick. Another message from Kyle pops up seconds after. told you, didn't i? i wasn't bein funny. congrats, cap ;) 

As if sensing the sudden whiplash of his mood—deep, proprietorial—you stir in his arms, mewling in confusion. John drops the phone, hiding it from view, and pulls you tighter in his arms. In his embrace. Mouth pressed tight to your hairline, he rumbles, “shush, shush. I got you.” 

His words make you quieten slightly. Quelled under the susurrus lull of his bellowing purr. But there's still a deep ravine between your brows. Unease lashes the air, acidic. Bubbling up from deep within you. 

None of this must make any sense to you. Mercurial boss to mate, but he knows you'll come around to the idea of him soon enough. After all,

he has you all to himself until winter. 

all to himself. 

His hand falls, cups your lower belly possessively. Covetous. You grimace in your sleep, shifting away from the heavy, oppressive brunt of his smell. Obsessive. Potent like a wildfire. Dangerous. 

But there's nowhere for you to run. Nowhere to go except deeper into his arms, his hold. Gyves around your throat; a bloody ring of his teeth. 

Price hums. “Best gift I've ever gotten.” 

[evermorethecrow]

you guys liked my idea more than anticipated

i musnt speak about the forbiden sexless abo au on main but....

....

I THINK dazai should be a beta and i think chuuya should be like some weird mix due to fuckery in the lab messing with his development anyway you guys couldnt handle asexual aromantic chuuya in my omegaverse au anyway

[fairsweetlonging]

new idea: shen yuan transmigrates into a pidw version with abo dynamics, but he doesn't know about it.

he knows what abo is, but it's so far removed from his expectations that it simply doesn't cross his mind at all. with that, cang qiong is a respectable, upstanding sect, so there is no growling, claiming, scent pushing or primal instinct stuff going on. people also don't mention it, as it's simply not relevant most of the time, and is considered rude to discuss unprompted.

shen qingqiu, of course, is an omega (the characters who make the best omegas are the ones who would hate it the most), but he has suppressed it with his qi for most of his life because he doesn't want to be seen as weak. the other peak lords assume he's a beta.

now, i'm not a traditional abo dynamic fan, but, there is something very appealing to me about the nesting and scenting aspect of it.

it starts out slow and painfully oblivious, with shen yuan assuming cultivators must have a really good sense of smell, and it's simply book logic that every character seems to have a signature scent. all those romance novels always mention characters smelling of pine and flowers and scotch and leather, so this isn't a foreign concept. liu qingge, for instance, is the bai zhan war god, girls fall for him left and right, it's only natural he smells of musk and deep woodsy notes, like the earth after it rains. right?

besides that, shen yuan has always been a homebody who loves his creature comforts, so him getting extra blankets and pillows and soft fabrics for his bed to curl up in isn't odd at all. or him collecting soft pretty things. shen qingqiu already has fans and night pearls and hair ribbons and silky clothes, so nothing changes.

then without-a-cure hits.

the poison breaks down the suppressors that the original shen qingqiu put in place, and his body starts restoring the balance. this worsens the cravings, and sets off his omega instincts.

he gathers more blankets, but it doesn't fill the need, like there's something missing. then liu qingge forgets his outer robe in his house after a meridian cleansing to deal with an emergency, and that robe ends up in his bed. he tries to reason it's a comfort thing—he wore his dad's sweater when he was young and had nightmares, and liu qingge does smell very nice, so is it really that strange that he holds it at night and presses his face against the collar where the scent is the strongest to soothe himself?

his own scent starts to develop as well, much stronger than the mild, watery green tea flavor from before, and people notice.

thing is, though, that there are many formalities and rules of conduct around omegas, one of which is not to bring up their status in any improper or unbidden way. so even though the alpha lords now notice a very distinct omega scent coming off their shixiong, they can't mention it out of societal pressure. so, they don't.

shen yuan still doesn't notice a thing.

the first time liu qingge smells it is during their bi-weekly cleansing session, when shen qingqiu leans in and liu qingge gets a mouthful of green tea, bamboo and honeyed jasmine, soft and sweet and pleased and so very content it sets off his alpha brain and he has to rein himself in before he starts releasing his own pheromones like some inexperienced teenager—

he's only just grown used to their amity and their habit of sharing tea and cakes after the cleansing, but now shen qingqiu is sitting there smiling at him and smelling like—like liu qingge is spoiling him and, making him feel safe...

he doesn't bring it up, downs his tea, and leaves.

meanwhile shen qingqiu keeps happily nesting away, filling his bed with all kinds of soft fabrics, some clothes of other people that he's trying really hard not to think about. everything is going well, binghe just turned sixteen and the girls are calling him an 'alpha', so his little bun is growing well into his protagonist charms! yue qingyuan comes by more often, acting a little strange but shen qingqiu is used to that by now. he looks very bashful offering him a ribbon of his, a pretty silver one that smells of incense and ozone, and shen qingqiu happily accepts it.

one time binghe comes back bruised and scuffed from a fight with bai zhan disciples, and shen qingqiu tsks at the strange smells on him, do those brutes ever bathe?? he rubs his hands over binghe's sleeves to try and get some of it off, and his poor bun must still be in shock because he stares wide-eyed at his shizun. he must also be getting forgetful because shen qingqiu finds that same robe still unwashed a week later in binghe's bedroom.

he also loves it when people brush or play with his hair, it's his favorite part of the evening when binghe helps him take down his hair for the night. the combs feel so nice on his scalp, if he could purr he would! (binghe's heart sobs quietly behind him, in complete disbelief his master is purring at him).

his icy, lofty demeanor has all but shattered, because now every time he tries to act aloof, like when yue qingyuan gives him a present or liu qingge shows up on his doorstep, his sweet, pleased scent betrays him.

the opposite is true, as well, when without-a-cure flares up and he's in pain and his scent goes sour and distressed, even when he's waving everyone off saying he's fine. the entire house smells of burnt tea leaves and ash after a nightmare, and shen qingqiu is very confused when liu qingge comes to pick him up for a meeting but then refuses to leave.

anyway he doesn't find out until after the conference when airplane tells him to keep his acrid scent under control, his house is starting to stink.

[leafteaposts]

More head canons ABO AU

Long text about my head canon/ world building on abo zosan fic I'm working on.

Anatomy, Heats, Ruts and some hot take on bitching.

Feel free to ask questions if any comes to mind~

Betas

Do not experience heats or ruts but they can go into pseudo heats and ruts to help their pack-mates regulate and balance pheromones.

They are masters at balancing group scents and neutralize pheromones in tense situations. Betas can thus manipulate an alpha or omega in a contesting group with smells that make them less inclined to attack and/or fight. Betas are praised for this ability and while a crew may exist without an alpha or omega, without a beta it is very hard to keep the balance in the group.

Usopp thinks about this a WHOLE lot. Not that he stresses about this or feels any pressure, no way! Didn't you know the great scenter Usopp not only scented a whole country on the brink of civil war he scented them so good and into such harmony and balance he was crowned their hero and offered their most beautiful princess to marry. He had to decline the offer of course as a brave and powerful warrior of the sea he needed to set sail.

No? Well now you know, you silly goose.

Ruts

Alpha men and women have a penis and can impregnate others, only female alphas can get impregnated as they also have a vagina and birth canal. However due to much higher hormone production they may find it harder to get pregnant than betas and omegas.

Alphas go into ruts typically each month. Normally a Rut is over in two to tree days, unless spent with a mate. If their partner are an omega in heat, then it normally adapts up to the omegas breeding need, normally about a week but can be longer or shorter. Ruts need not be sexual, some just feel a heightened need to scent their packs, increase of aggression or posturing that a beta (or old alpha) may help balance with pheromones. Often more needy and want to be seen and praised for their efforts of pleasing their pack. Some alphas sleep a lot after a rut due to they exhaust themself by helping their pack and or training, fighting etc.

Depending on their health they can "jump" in their rut cycle. For example if very sick and/or injured. But also if they are suffering from severe mental illness, their pheromones and nervous systemen may "jump" some ruts to preserve energy and or protect the alpha from losing control and starting an unnecessary fight. The other extreme that can happen is an increase of hormones and pheromones making the alpha go into an overdrive rut. Those ruts turns them very aggressive, they get territorial and challenge alphas and opponents that they normally never would due to obvious power disparity, but also gets a boost of adrenaline and endurance. Zoro may enter this state when fighting in in life or death fights like the one in Wano. (or most of his big fights tbh)

Alphas are normally well equipped and all have the tissue needed at the base of their penises to create a knot. Knotting during sex is a euphoric experience for alphas and the emotional and hormonal high they get from knotting and staying locked together with their partner is a need in an alpha, especially during ruts. They can therefore sometimes be accused of asking too much, too early in a sexual relationship as knotting may not be every partners cup of tea so to speak.

Omegas are better equipped to stand knotting due to their own high it may bring during sex as they are deeply affected by alpha pheromones. Alphas can mate and bond to whoever, but are instinctively submissive to omegas and their moods. This is probably to not hurt them during heat and/or their own rut. They may find it hard to deny an omegas request, especially if they are in the same pack.

They also show this more submissive behavior (showing their neck, grunts, chuffs, whining like big babies) when they want to be included in pack building/nest bonding but as omegas normally don't let alphas into their nests they may be excluded at times. When they do get allowed into a cuddle puddle or nest cuddle they are like happy dogs or lazy cats depending how they may be affected by this kind of closeness. (I like to think Zoro gets SO happy when included, but try to be stoic about it and not appear needy when the non alphas in the crew scent or cuddles in the nest or on the deck. Luffy is a special case as the pack can keenly feel his extreme need for closeness. That does not give him entrance tickets to nest bondings thou.) Alphas often feel a need to please omegas, even if they are not sexually attracted or bonded to them. Omegas are in the same boat toward alphas, they are more likely to fawn and preen in front of an alpha in pre rut to please and maintain balance in the pack. For omega/alpha partners this can be very exiting and thrilling.

Alphas are often doting on their packs and want to have an eye on them, and during rut this instinct can go into such overdrive they turn aggressive against people that are not part of their group. This often makes them isolate in a rut room (especially if they have a sexual rut) or in the enclosed territory their pack have scented so they may be around and be soothed by their pack. Other alphas in the pack may spar and play figth to help each other blow off some steam. If they experience a sexual rut and they do have a partner/mate that are willing to help them the rut may end quicker, But there are plenty of toys they may use. Knotting in a fleshlight may not be as good as the real deal, but it takes the edge off and helps them throu the rut more comfortably.

Most of the time an alphas rut is very stable once it passes their presentation/adolescent years. For rut jumping and overdrive it needs to be rather a serious illness, hormone issues and/or a traumatic event that deeply affect the alpha. Examples are sudden loss of their mate or child, losing their whole pack, bitching, serious traumatic injury or sickness, (Physical and or mental)

When in rut an alphas scent is stronger, sticks for longer and is much easier to smell from long distances if not using salves/scent muting aids. Zoro is especially bad at muting his scent as he have used it and his pheromones too aggressively dominate opponents in his start as a bounty hunter. The crew grow used to it but others may find him extra intimidating due to this.

Both Zoro and Luffy experience rut jumpings in the two year time skip when separated from their pack. Luffy who suffers from separation anxiety have actually quite a few problems with rut jumping. After marineford he did not have a rut for almost a whole year. Zoros rut beacome unregular, something he had never experienced before. Took him almost a year to center himself and getting control of his ruts again. This training did give him an strong control over himself when in rut and/or faced with others in rut/heat so not to be as affected by others pheromones and smell. Is the most stable in the straw hats for a reason. ( But is also an expression of his need for control especially after thriller bark and 2 year TS)

Heats

Both female and male omegas have a birth canal and vagina. Male omegas also have a penis and testicles, but are smaller than betas and alphas. Both can be impregnated, only male omegas may impregnate but may have lower chances to do so than betas and alphas.

One unusual and sometimes explotited thing with omega biology is that they can carry litters from more than one sire. If they have multiple partners during a heat (especially if there are alphas that keep triggering the heat to last and or restart) the children born may be from all of the partners. Some omegas also have double pregnancies. That is to say they get pregnant again during the pregnancy and may birth another pup about one to two months after the first litter is born. This takes a heavy toll on the omega but is one of the reasons omegas are sought after in sexual slavery or in cultures where a lot of heirs are a priority and they are more or less looked upon as breeding tools.

Omegas suffers from sexual slavery the most along with female mermaids and may be offered as prices and accessories to the wealthy and powerful. Alabasta and Water 7 are places that have long tried to stop this discrimination and are looked upon as safe havens in the grand line. Kamabakka kingdom is another, more secret place. Wano protects their omegas, but the sexist practices against women also affects omegas whether male or female. They are often considered even more in need of protecting and are not allowed to carry the sword. (We see traces of this in Zoro's upbringing.)

Omegas in heats are more vulnerable for attack due to how their bodies react during heats and this is one of the reasons they are looked (down) upon as in bigger need of protection in many countries as well as why they are discriminated against.

They experience heats every three months. When presenting during adolescence it tends to come and go in waves and they may have two heats in just one month, or one every month. Adolescence is typically a hard time for omegas and they need family/their pack to be balanced. The less secure environment, the more fluctuations until their heats stabilises in the typical three month cycle.

Most heats are familial and they spend it with their beta and/or omega pack mates. Normally a heat lasts for about a week, and is really intense three to four days. Depending on the person it may be the first, middle or the last day of the heat.

Symptoms of a heat is usually fever, cramps, overproduction of slick, oversensitivity to lots of fabrics, increased and more sensitive sense of smell. A higher sensitivity to obey timbre and scruffing, which is why most omegas want to isolate in their nests or dens with trusted ones during heats. The need to look after their pack increases and may manifest by scenting and cuddling. But may also express more controlling behaviors to keep an eye on everybody and keep them close. They feel a strong need to protect their space where their people are.

Omegas smell very good during heats and one of the reasons alphas avoid them unless they are mates, as they may trigger a rut and thus trigger the omega into a sexual heat.

A sexual heat is normally a sweaty affair and if unlucky lasts the whole week in a breeding frenzy. Most omegas find this very tiring and normally don't have the stamina to pleasure themself during a whole week. If exposed or triggered by Alphas they may go into a breeding heat/ frenzy, their need to mate/breed completely overtake and they go almost feral. This can be used agains omegas and why they may show a more aggressive attitude against alphas. While in a sexual heat and without a partner toys helps take the edge off and lower the need of sex. And stable pack mates may help stabilize their pheromone and hormone production back to a standard heat.

I like to think there are knot rings they use and/or dildos that are equipped with pheromones/hormones that simulate the experience of mating. When used this eases the omega out of the sexual heat so they can faster return to their pack. Knotting and getting breed helps the heat end faster unless the alpha can't control their phermones and kick-starts another heat.

Hot take? Omegas are the most territorial ones. Once they have a pack they are very aggressive about protecting it. Alphas help scent and secure the "borders" of their omegas territory. If there is no omega in a pack the alpha takes on the role to scent and maintain territory but is not as defensive about it (unless in rut) as an omega may be.

Sunny is an example of a territory, and the nesting space an omega create is off limits to the pack unless invited in. An alpha that gets to cuddle and get pampered in an omegas nest after an injury for example is very lucky as they are most often excluded from this space due to their smell. Luffy can sit and look at the nest in the doorway with the biggest puppy eyes and only get snarls and hisses from Sanji. He is the most territorial omega anybody ever will meet.

But, he also takes VERY good care of his pack. As he makes food even during heats (unless it is too intense and he is incapacitated.) he does have problems denying women of course even if they are alphas, but not even an alpha lady is allowed near his nest unless under special circumstances. His instincts can go haywire and he borders on feral when policing his space, and he feels extra protective about the galley when stressed.

Bitching.

Personally I don't really like the idea that one can turn another alpha into an omega by bitching. (I have been thinking too much about reproductive function and suddenly growing them because bitching just feels wrong for me, lol). In my au a bitched alpha is an alpha that have been through abuse and/or traumatic events. Examples can be rape, slavery, domestic abuse, loss of their whole pack when very young and left to fend for themself, aggressive and distressing force scentings from other alphas that show dominance and leave their scent on the other, etc.

The term bitching is thus a derogatory term and is locked down upon by many.

For one to be "bitched" an alpha have suffered this in such intense and long period of time their pheromone production is forever damaged and their nervous system can't regulate it at all. They may smell like pre puberty alphas and their pheromones always smell "broken" when released, especially when upset/when they feel strong emotions. Ruts are often irregular, the need to show aggression to protect themselfs often turns into fear and posturing. A bitching often happens when the alpha is young and defenseless growing up, but may also happen to adult alphas that been so badly traumatized they can never properly recover. This practise is often used to keep dominance in a pack by ruling with fear, or used in war/torture. Some pirate fleets (and marines) are not below this behavior and they terrifies the areas where they roam. Even betas and omegas can technically be "bitched" too but alphas are seemingly more sensitive to getting their phermone and hormone production disrupted/destroyed.

PHEW that was a lot. My spell/ grammar check is out of whack and english is not my first language, so if there are a lot of mistakes I'm really sorry, but really wanted to get this out today.

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite 08

Another early chapter to celebrate my birthday 🥳 i am now a 25 year old child 👧 please enjoy and let me know what you think 💕

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, Hard dom! Chan, suggestive, kissing, dirty thoughts, cursing, fluff, mild dissociation, traditional gender roles, crying (as usual)

WC: 4.1k

MDNI 18+

Hyunjin could, in fact, carry you up two flights of stairs. Now you know better than to doubt his physical prowess. It seemed almost effortless to him to make the trek up with you on his back. The whole time he had you hoisted up you were able to see the muscles in his arms rippling. 

It honestly made you see him in a different light. You had thought he was an attractive man- of course you did- but knowing how strong he was… It made you want to ravish him. See what other muscles he has hidden from you. 

Good thing you were behind him or he would be able to see the gears turning in your mind and the flush in your cheeks. 

He took you right to the closed door of your room. It was concealing whatever your ‘surprise’ was. Hyunjin gently set you down on your shaky legs, grabbing your hand once your feet touched the floor. He lifted your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss to your palm, then leaning in close as if he was going to kiss you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, anticipating his next move. Instead he only kissed your cheek and whispered smugly, “Don't ever doubt me again, Baby.”

You had a look of ‘wtf’ on your face but he just ignored it, choosing to turn on his heels and head back down the steps. 

Before he went down he turned to you one last time. 

“Oh, the surprise is from Min.” With that he gave you a wink and descended the steps. 

From Minho? That felt slightly odd to you. You had gotten a feeling the beta didn’t care for you much, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe it just took him a minute to warm up to someone. Either way you weren't going to dwell on it, he had gotten you a surprise after all. 

Opening the door to your room you saw many bags sitting on your bed. Not just any bags, they were bags from Euns shop! Walking into your room and closer to the bags you noticed that there were many more than the 5 bags you had before your.. Mishap. There now appeared to be at least 10 bags. 

‘Did Minho get me more clothes?’ You wondered, suddenly overcome with gratitude. While you loved wearing your alphas clothes it would be nice to have some of your own, especially after Chan had literally destroyed your original outfit. You looked through the items left for you, and half of them you definitely didn't pick, but you loved each thing he had grabbed for you. You had been so worried when you were shopping that you would spend too much money, that you didn’t get all the things you had wanted. Looks like Minho paid you great attention though because he had picked things you had desperately wanted. So many pretty dresses and sets. And lingerie? 

Looking at the matching bra and panty sets you just knew there was a dark red blush on your cheeks. What was new though. There were also a few strappy numbers you would usually be way too shy to buy for yourself. It made you remember that you were expected to be shared amongst the pack. 

‘Did Minho want to see me in these racy outfits?’ You might actually have a heart attack at the thought. 

After looking through each bag you sped yourself down the stairs to find Minho. You went down to the second floor where you remembered his room being, finding the door open and him not there. 

You did take a moment to peer inside, though. His room was decorated in deep purples, and had a thick shag rug that almost surrounded the entire room. The space felt very mature and had a lingering scent of the beta. 

Your eyes were starting to close at the intense smell of him, a musky spice that was almost intoxicating. You snapped yourself out of it before you fell too deep into a subspace. No time for that you were on a mission! Next stop was the kitchen. 

You barreled down the next flight of steps, almost tumbling a few times due to your still weak legs, and onto the main floor. You could hear a few soft voices coming from the living room but none sounded like the man you were after. There was a smell of something cooking coming from the kitchen, and when you stepped into the large room there was Minho. He was there stirring some vegetables on the stove. 

He seemed to have heard you enter but before he could greet you, you launched yourself at him pulling him into a hug and smothering your face against his shirt. He seemed stunned for a moment- putting his hands in the air like he was afraid to touch you. It took him a second before he felt himself relax in your hold. 

“Fank you fo the clofes” Your words were almost incoherent against him but he managed to understand. With one hand he patted your head while the other leaned past you and continued stirring the food he was preparing. 

“You needed them. It’s no big deal.” He responded evenly, as if his heart wasn’t beating wildly. 

You pulled back from him with those signature tears “No big deal? Of course it is! You went out of your way for me! And got me even more! I am so grateful to you Minho! I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness.” 

He gave you a small smirk, “You know how you can thank me?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, shaking your head no. 

“Wipe those pretty tears off your face.” He responded with a small pat to your cheek before turning his attention back to the food. 

You sniffled one more time before nodding and using your palms to wipe your face. It was then that your omega brain noticed he was cooking. That was your job! 

“What are you doing?” You demanded. “I’m supposed to be cooking for you!” You then tried to shove him out of the way but he wasn’t budging. He was surprisingly sturdy. All he did was laugh in response. 

Your lips curled into a pout and you crossed your arms angrily, giving him your best evil eye. It did not phase him at all, instead he just laughed again shaking his head and continuing to cook. You wouldn’t give in though! If the glare wouldn’t work you would try being sweet. 

Unfolding your arms you clasped your hands out in front of you and gave him your best puppy dog pout. 

“Please Min.” You stepped closer to him and rested your head against his shoulder. “It makes me feel useless if I can’t provide something for you guys.” 

Minho felt himself tense up when you touched him again. For some reason your touch was making him nervous. That is until he registered your words.He turned to you with a sternness on his face. 

“Don’t say that.” His voice was borderline harsh. You looked up at him shocked when you heard it. He continued a little softer after seeing your expression, “ You’re not useless, you provide enough” 

‘Or you're going to start soon enough.’ He thought to himself. 

“I like cooking, it's calming to me. If you really want we can split it up and I’ll let you make breakfasts and the occasional dinner.” 

Your eyes shined at the prospect of being allowed to contribute, nodding your head rapidly. You would take anything you could get. “Yes! Thank you Minho!” You hugged him again quickly before skipping out of the kitchen, happy with the agreement. 

The beta called out after you “Tell everyone 5 minutes til’ dinner!” 

“You got it!” 

Wandering back into the living room Felix and Jisung were still lazily strewn on the loveseat but now Changbin and Jeongin were also in there, the group playing Mario kart on the switch that was hooked up to the tv. You stood in the entryway for a moment watching them play. 

It brought back memories of you playing games with your siblings, back when things were simpler. It felt like they were, anyway. You had a pretty normal childhood all things considered. You had a good relationship with your siblings, you had friends, you were doing well in school- fuck, you were even planning on going to college to become a zoologist. You were happy. 

That all changed for you the second you turned 16, when you presented as an omega and had to forget about ever having a normal life. 

You must have been stuck pretty far in your own mind because you didn’t hear Changbin calling your name until he touched your arm in concern. 

“Huh?” You asked as you snapped out of it. 

The alpha had a look of worry etched on his face, “You’ve been standing there in a daze for a few minutes, Baby. Are you ok?” His rough hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into it comfortingly. 

You nodded, “Mmhmm. Sorry, just thinking.” Then you looked past him at everyone in the room, “Minho said dinner was about done.” As you said Changbins stomach let out a loud gurgle, causing the other boys present to burst into chuckles. 

Changbin released your face with a wide grin, “Why didn’t you say so!” Then he cupped his hands over his mouth to project into the entire house. 

“DINNER TIME EVERYONE!” 

You giggled at his antics and everyone made their way into the dining room to enjoy a meal together.

---------------------------------------------

Dinner was a quieter affair, it seems like everyone was still mellowed out since the joint nap you all took, the tiredness still present. That's not to say it wasn't full of jokes, that will never stop. By the time you had all eaten and cleaned up it was now quite dark outside, the light completely disappearing behind the mountains. 

Even though you slept away most of the day you could still feel the drowsiness behind your eyes. You were sitting in Chan's lap with your head resting against his chest while he joked with the other guys, the tv on in the background but no one was paying any attention to it. 

Your alpha had his hand on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into your warm skin. He could sense you slipping away every now and again, and had decided it was time to take you to bed. You had a big day tomorrow, anyways. 

“Are you ready for bed, omega?” He whispered against your hair, placing a kiss there. 

You gave him a slow nod, “Mmhmm.” He scooped you up into his arms and stood from where you were both seated on the recliner. 

“Say goodnight to the boys, baby.” 

You lightly lifted your hand and gave them a wave, “Goodnight boys.” 

“Goodnight, Baby!” They chorused, with Jisung adding in a little “I’ll miss you!” there at the end.

The tired giggle you let out almost made their hearts stop beating. It was so cute. “Miss you too Ji.”   

Chan carried you up the stairs and into his room where he set you gently in his bed. You immediately nuzzled yourself into his comforter. He spoke softly to you, “Before you fall asleep there's something we have to talk about, Baby.” 

There was a sudden inkling of anxiety in your stomach. Have you done something wrong? Were you being too much? What if he- You were brought out of your thoughts by Chan placing a chaste kiss on your mouth. 

“I can almost see your brain running a million miles an hour, nothing is wrong Omega.” You felt yourself relax at his reassurance. “I was actually going to check in with you, about how you are feeling about the pack. And about what we had discussed a few days ago.” His hands were back on your thighs,  the heat of his strong hands igniting something inside of you. “The other boys are quite fond of you, you know that baby?” He was staring deep into your eyes, smirking as if he could see how his hands were making you feel. 

“I-I like them too.” You stuttered. you kept your answer vague, scared if you revealed how they make you truly feel it would upset the Alpha. 

He hummed, his hands hiking up even higher-inching closer and closer to your core. He paused his movements, “ How much do you like them, my love? Do you like them enough to let them touch you like this?” 

You were apprehensive to answer him, so he pressed further. “You know, if you're worried I’d be mad or jealous, that’s not something you have to be concerned about. In fact, I would prefer it if you wanted them like they want you.” He smirked at the hitch in your breath. 

“And how do they want me, Alpha?”  The words were almost a whisper as they left you, your tone breathy. 

Chan let out a purr, “ They want you in all the ways I do.” His hands inched up ever closer but still not reaching. He leaned in close, his mouth almost on yours. 

“Will you let them have you? Will you be a good omega and please your pack?” 

The hesitancy was gone from you as you rapidly nodded at his questions, desperate for him. 

“Yes Alpha. They can have all of me. Whatever they want I will give to them.” 

“Good girl.” He praised, slotting his mouth over yours and finally letting his fingers find your core. The rough pads of his fingertips lightly rubbed over your (his) underwear, feeling the accumulating wetness that was making a dark spot. You let out a stuttering moan at his touch, hips instinctually raising to meet the touch. 

He hummed, grinning devilishly “ Does my sweet omega like that?” He pressed harder against your pussy, pushing the fabric between your folds. 

Nodding quickly you responded “Yes Alpha.” 

Chan then placed his lips back on yours, his hand pulling away and finding the band of the underwear. He hooked his thumbs under each side and slowly dragged the garment down your thighs, his tongue running along the inside of your lips begging for entrance. You gave it to him gladly. 

Once he had completely pulled the boxers from you he pulled his lips back slightly, still touching but not kissing. “You’re still too sore to take me, but I just have to reward my baby for being such a good girl.” His lips starting trailing wet kisses down your throat and continuing down your stomach where he lifted his shirt to reveal your breasts to him. 

You were squirming in at his touch, eager to feel his mouth on you where you needed him most. 

The alpha settled himself between your legs, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You were absolutely leaking. The crystalline liquid drips out of you causing the room to fill with the scent of you. 

“Who made you like this, Baby?” He asked in between sloppy kisses to your thighs. 

“Yo-you did, alpha.” You responded, panting in anticipation. 

“Hmmm just me?” His eyes found yours, as if challenging your words. “ Are you sure about that?”

You paused, trying to find an answer. “Umm..” 

He nipped at your soft thigh skin, leaving a red mark in his wake. “ You can be honest with me, omega. Have you thought about any of the other boys this way? Thought about any of them putting their mouths on your wet little pussy?” His tongue stuck out and he gave your clit a teasing lick. 

“Alpha please.” There was no way you could answer that. You were too mortified at the prospect. 

He growled at your avoidance “ Answer me, omega. You will get nothing if you don’t tell me what I want to hear. Do you think about them eating you like this?” He gave you another bite on the opposite side. 

“Yes!” You couldn’t take it anymore. Morals be damned. “Yes, Alpha I have. m’ sorry!” Hands gripping the sheets below you. 

At your honesty Chan licked a long strip starting at your hole up to your clit. The moan you let out was otherworldly, your hands finding his dark hair and yanking on the strands. 

You tasted divine. Like the sweetest nectar from the ripest fruits. Chan felt his eyes roll to the back of his head at the taste. 

“Please, alpha.” You begged, wanting- needing - to feel him again. At your pleads he dove into you, his tongue shoving its way into you looking for more of your sweetness. His lips found the little bundle of nerves and wrapped around it giving it a harsh suck. 

“FUCK!” You bucked your hips, shoving him further into your pussy. 

In retaliation he nipped at your clit and let out a deep growl, a glare in his eyes as they found yours. “Stay still or I will stop and leave you here with nothing. Do you understand me?” 

You let out a quiet “Mmhmm” and his fingers came up to replace his mouth, rubbing tight circles on you. 

“Tell me who you’ve thought about this with, baby?” 

Your own hands left his hair and covered your face in embarrassment. “I can’t. It’s too much.” 

Chans other hand that wasn't on your core reached up and roughly yanked your hands from your face, him now gripping the underside of your chin to turn your head to face him. Your eyes now locked on his as if he was seeing into your soul looking for answers. 

“You will tell me, omega.” He was using an alpha command on you, since you were bonded to him you couldn’t refuse no matter how much you wanted too. 

“Jisung.” You cried. “Was t-thinking about it earlier, Alpha.” More slick was leaking out of you at your admittance. This display of dominance shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. 

Chan gave you that predatory grin, pleased with your answer. “Sungie huh? How did 

I know it was gonna be him. Good omega.” 

He returned his mouth to you, this time with renewed vigor. His finger found its way inside of you, rubbing your walls with the calloused digit while his lips sucked you into the next dimension. 

You were squealing and moaning, unable to contain the animalistic sounds that escaped you. The knot in your stomach was starting to form, all you needed was one push and you would be a goner. As if he could sense it, Chan slipped another finger inside of you causing you to topple over the edge. 

You came with a long drawn out moan, Chan not letting up for even a second until your convulsions ceased. He wanted to drain you dry and that's what he had done. 

Once you stopped shaking and were finally able to catch your breath Chan pulled away from you-  his face soaked with your essence. “You taste so good, omega.” His fingers slipped out of you and he lifted them to your mouth. “Go on, taste yourself.” He urged. Your mouth opened wide enough for him to stick the digits in. Your tongue swirled around them, collecting the wetness. He couldn't help himself, he shoved his fingers further down your throat holding them there while you gagged around him. You didn’t fight him though, and just let him do whatever he pleased with you, like the good little doll you were. 

Chan pressed a sweet peck to your stomach before  removing his fingers from your mouth and crawling up to be face to face with you. When he was at eye level you grabbed him forcefully, connecting your lips with him and tasting more of your juices that lingered on his mouth. 

He was the first to pull away after a few seconds, nuzzling your noses together and just breathing each other in. 

“You did so good for me, baby. Thank you for being honest with me.” He was running his hands softly along your sides. 

“You’re welcome alpha.” You responded quietly. “You’re not mad are you?” 

He would have scoffed if you weren't so fragile right now. 

“No baby of course not. It makes me happy you want him like that.” 

Your shining eyes looked hopeful, “It does?” 

“Mmm yes baby. You are theirs just as you are mine. Soon you’ll come to see it that way too.” You nodded at his words, the exhaustion now taking over. “Let's get you tucked in. You have a big day tomorrow. We have a few things to do in town tomorrow.” You nodded once more and let him tuck you in under his blankets. He placed a delicate smooch on your lips then forehead, and you were out like a light. 

----------------------------------------------

Once you were asleep Chan sent a group text for a pack meeting out on the back patio. It was a warm night and he didn’t need you snooping in on this conversation if you were to wake up. He watched you slumber for a moment, taking in your peaceful features. He really did feel so lucky to have you. Everyday you proved yourself to be his dream girl. 

He gave it another moment then made his way down the steps and outside where the other members were waiting for him, lounging on the outside furniture.A few of them gave the elder sly smiles, they could all hear exactly what the alpha had just been doing with you. Chan just rolled his eyes and smirked at their looks. 

 Chan took a seat on the ottoman by the sliding door, “Alright, I was wondering if anyone had any more problems we need to work through.” He scanned everyone's faces, “ I know it hasn’t been the smoothest of sailing the last few days but I think from here on out it will be better for everyone.” There were nods of agreement at his words. 

Changbin was the first to speak, “How is she settling in? I hope we haven't been too.. Abrasive.”

Seungmin snorted, “That's rich coming from you.”

The alpha looked at him incredulously, “I am not that bad! Not as bad as your other fellow betas!” and pointed to Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin who all looked at him in disbelief at being called out. 

“Hey, that's not fair! We’re a sensitive bunch and she's a sensitive girl! She needs us!” Hyunjin protested, the other two nodding furiously in agreement. 

“Yeah she likes our kisses!” Jisung chimed in, then looked to Chan for confirmation. “Right hyung?”

“That’s another reason I wanted to call you all out here. Turns out she’s not as innocent as she lets on. She’s been having quite naughty thoughts about you boys.” Chan's smirk never left his face as he spoke. He watched each one of them have a reaction at his words. 

Jeongin sputtered out “Is-is that okay with you Chan?” He was nervous his leader would change his mind and now be mad about it. 

“Oh more than ok Innie.” Chan reassured him. “I have a feeling soon enough our little omega is going to be pretty insatiable and to be honest it would be a lot easier for me to have others to help take care of her needs. I mean, fuck, especially during her next heat it will be nice to have some help. My dick is still raw from that little minx.” 

There was a collective groan at the prospect. They would have given anything to be there for the first one. 

“While we’re talking about it there are a few things i want to discuss. As far as a claiming bite goes, it would be ok with me if you did bite her. Just not on the neck. And no cumming in her until we get her on some non-harmful birth control. I’d like to have time with her before we bring kids into the equation.”

They all nodded in understanding, agreeing with the alpha.

“Has she said who she's thought about, Channie?” Felix questioned with a dark flush on his face. 

Chan tosses his head back and forth as if pondering the question, before answering teasingly “I may have gotten one out of her.” The beta looked hopeful. “Buuuuut I think I’ll let you guys figure it out.” 

Felix pouted, crossing his arms. Minho was sat next to him and pinched his cheek, cooing at the younger beta. 

“Aww lixie don’t pout. You know it's probably you.” 

The red in Felixs’ cheeks darkened even more as he smacked Minhos hand away. 

“I think it’s me!” Changbin boasted 

“Nah, you should have seen her face after I carried her up the stairs earlier. Gotta be me.” Hyunjin said convincingly. 

 The boys just went back and forth, all trying to figure out who is the first one to catch your attention, not knowing it was literally all of them. 

It was pure entertainment for Chan and Minho as they watched the others bicker. 

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

Tags - Closed

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[merakiui]

Mera!! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

What’s your take on the octatrio reacting to an omega reader using their clothes or other items in their nest when they’re going into heat? I’m particularly curious what you think of Azul since idk if you’ve ever characterized him as an alpha. But I think all of them could be so cute regardless! Omega/omega and omega/beta have such good potential! ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

They could be in a relationship, but I think it’d also be fun if reader just snatches their stuff without asking. Aaaaaaaaa (╥﹏╥) I just miss classic omegaverse tropes sm

:O omg I have so many thoughts about this!!! I love this trope,,, it's so cute and there are so many ways it could go depending on dynamic. I like to write Azul as an alpha because of my own self-indulgent preferences, but also I like to imagine he was an incredibly late bloomer and everyone thought he was an omega for the longest time until he finally has an actual rut and !!!!!! I could ramble on about that forever. <3 but I do agree!! There's so much delicious potential with non-traditional abo pairings!!!!

Being besties with them...... something something they're so attuned to your scent because you're close and so it's fairly easy for them to locate you,,, quite literally sniffing you out!!! I think seeing you cuddled up in your nest with his clothes and any other things that smell like him would make Azul feel so much better about your relationship, whether platonic or romantic. It reaffirms that you like him and are comforted by his presence and scent. That you trust him. Of course there's also the characteristics of your heat that make you much more receptive to him, which he'll use to explain and rationalize everything. T_T but deep down he's pleased and hopes that one day you'll ask him for his clothes. He wants to see you clinging to his shirt or wrapping yourself up in one of his sweaters all the time!!!

Floyd...... oooohh he thinks you're just the cutest. He'll keep his distance at first. He doesn't want to startle you or stress you out. But since it's him, you're familiar with his scent and it makes him happy when your pheromones are purely sweet and stress-free. <3 waaaa he adores you!!! You'll have to invite Floyd into your nest if you want him to come close and even then he's still hesitant because you're not in the right mind (if you're just friends). He's willing to lend you as much of his clothes as you want for your nest. It's cute seeing Shrimpy get so particular about everything, even more so when he sees you bundled up in his sleep sweatshirt. Floyd has really good restraint, so if you aren't in an established relationship then he'll tread carefully and do as you ask (unless if it's something outlandish,, like you asking him to knot you, to which he'll giggle and playfully dodge the demand with: "Shrimpy doesn't really mean that~") he understands omega hindbrain is usually running on carnal instinct anyway.

Jade is impossible to read most of the time, and when you do try to read him it's like solving a complex equation. >_< he can be so difficult (usually on purpose) sometimes... most of his teasing is there to distract you from his body language, how he's always so relaxed around you, but when you're in heat the last thing you're trying to do is dissect and analyze Jade's behaviors. Beneath that sharp smile of amusement, there's genuine sweetness and it's quite a heartwarming sight to see you hugging a bunch of his laundry close. Jade wouldn't be Jade if he isn't taking photos to later tease you about when you're not so heat-brained. He'll ask you silly and obvious questions like "Do you find my scent that enjoyable?" just to have his suspicions validated. Jade will stay to look after you and ensure all is well if that's what you'd like, but if you want anything specific from him you'll have to use your words and ask~ >:) how is he supposed to know otherwise? Give Jade one chance and he'll spoil you rotten in that nest, tending to your every need.

[yndrgrl]

"please don't go, i love you so, my lovely"

~++~*~++~

[welcome] to my blog! how are you feeling today? i am the owner of this blog, feel free to call me whatever you want! i go by all pronouns, but people mostly use she/her haha. my specialty is yandere (obviously) but i do love me some good cutesy romance! when i'm not writing, you can find me on a mat wrestling, lifting weights at the gym, or at my desk journaling :)

[warnings]: i will say that my yandere works are fairly soft compared to other yandere interpretations, but i will warn you that i typically write obsessive behaviors, stalking, & smut. any other warnings you should be aware of are included in the fanfics themselves.

~++~*~++~

[masterlist]: all my fics are located below :)

LONG ASS FICS.

"i think about you all the fuckin' time" -> link

your classmate, yandere! bakugou, has a major crush on you. nsfw.

"so tell me, if you feel the same" -> link

bakugou had a glowup during summer break. sfw.

"i want you. all of you" -> link

new bf! bakugou helps his bunnygirl gf, you. nsfw.

"you think you're all that?" -> link

yandere! bakugou uses you to get to your friend but falls for you instead. nsfw.

"you're just our type" -> link

you gym crushes, yandere! kiribaku, finally make a move. nsfw.

"you know, it's rude to stare, y/n" -> link

your new job is to nanny yandere! aizawa's cute kid. nsfw.

"i'm busy fucking! " -> link

you are promoted to assistant for your boss, yandere! bakugou. nsfw.

"just swallow your pride & ask like a good girl" -> link

your enemy, yandere! bakugou, is possessive over you. nsfw.

"you think you're so clever, huh?" -> link

your mission, as a spy, is to bring mafia boss, yandere! dabi. nfsw.

-more coming soon... <3

CUTE LIL DRABBLES.

"an idiot" -> link

bakugou has a crush on you, & you're dense. sfw.

"oh, how i adore you, y/n" -> link

you & bakugou's relationship dynamic. sfw.

"no one calls me sweet, like... ever" -> link

you believe that bakugou is too sweet for you. sfw.

-more coming soon... <3

HEADCANNONS FOR YO ASS.

"you better stfu or else you'll be in so much trouble" -> link

step bro! bakugo x step sis! reader. nsfw.

"tell me you're mine forever, baby girl" -> link

dilf! bakugou x barista! reader. nsfw.

"wonder how far you'll go to stop us" -> link

bullies! kiribaku x reader. nsfw.

-more coming soon... <3

~++~*~++~

[i will not write] the traditional yandere x darling stuff where the yandere tortures their darling. i also do not write heavily forced nsfw content & heavily unwilling reader because i want my fics to be indulgent, not traumatic. i also refuse to write homophobia, racism, any sort of hate towards a group of people, p3do shit, necrophilia, scat, urine, & feet (it freaks me out haha).

[i do write] dark romance, bdsm, degrading & praising, somnaphilia, dom/sub dynamics, power play, voyerism, abo stuff, other au's, & reasonable age gaps (teacher/student, boss/employee, etc). i will write coercion & light unwilling-to-willing reader. if i didn't mention anything, but you want me to write some other kink, feel free to message me & i'll let you know if i'll write it or not :)

~++~*~++~

[parmahamlarrie]

Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! As always, these are all fics I have read and loved, not all the fics out there. You can find more Omegaverse fics here! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!**

Face Your Fears || @sadaveniren || 92.2k Omegaverse, Baker Harry, Famous/Non Famous, Misunderstandings, KidFic, Mpreg, Slowburn, Angst

Violent Delights || @ohpleaselarry || 76k Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Regency, Prince Louis, Prince Harry, Rapunzel-Esque

The Cottage || @holdingontochaos || 70.6k ** Omegaverse, Strangers to Lovers, Small Towns, Artist Louis, Farmer Harry, Sick Louis, Touch Deprivation, Neighbours, Soulmate AU

Seeing Blind || zedi || 46.7k Omegaverse, Rut Bar, Blind Louis, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry

picking up the pieces || @falsegoodnight || 37.6k Omegaverse, Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Fake Relationship, High School Reunions

Follow Your Arrow || @ladyaj-13 || 36.2k  Omegaverse, Pack Dynamics, Canon Divergent, Touch Deprivation

Sometimes You Just Know || @2tiedships2 || 33.8k  Omegaverse, Soulmates, Exes to Lovers, Nesting

Blush || @dip-lou-in-honey || 33.4k Historical AU, Omegaverse, Period Typical Sexism

Leave Your Mark On Me || @kingsofeverything || 32k  Omegaverse, Restaurant AU, Fake Bonds, Enemies to Friends to Lovers

An Alpha For Christmas || IceQueenRia || 28.1k Christmas, A/B/O, Fake Relationship, Neighbour AU

never been a fan of change, but we're still the same || @onlythebravest || 27.1k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, College AU, Hurt/Comfort, Drops, Nesting

only guilty of loving you || sweetrevenge || 22.1k Omegaverse, Scents, You’ve Got Mail AU

Pretty in Pink || lovelarry10 || 18.8k Omegaverse, Alpha Harry. Omega Louis, Feminine Harry, Friends to Lovers

Empty Nest || @littleroverlouis || 16.4k Omegaverse, Mpreg, Nesting, Established Relationship, Fluff

Prince Harry and the Expert in Motorcycle Maintenance || @juliusschmidt || 15.9k  Omegaverse, Crack, Royalty, Cinderella Story

balance between you and me || @beckydoesthings || 15.2k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Businessmen, Courting Rituals

The Checkout || @silverstuff50 || 12.2k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Awkward Flirting, Fluff

Smells Like Omega Spirit || @lululawrence || 11.7k Omegaverse, Misunderstandings, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Scene Neutralizers

you're the one that I'm dreamin' of (you're the one that I love) || @suckerforhome || 11.7k ** Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Dynamics, Famous/Non Famous, Musician Harry, Make Up Artist Louis, Exes to Lovers (ish)

Stumbling Into Your Arms ABO verse || @sunshineandthemoonlight || 11.3k - 2 parts Omegaverse, College AU, Train AU, Fluff

Where Do We Go Now || @jaerie || 10.6k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, College Au, Roommates to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Human World

Enter the Rose Garden || @angelichl || 10.3k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, Soft Heat, Pining

Half a World Away || @silverstuff50 || 9.8k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Enemies/Friends to Lovers, Heat, Hiking

14 Days of Valentine’s || @stylesthebrave || 9.3k  Omegaverse, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Established Relationship, Courting

a body wishes to be held & held || turnyourankle || 9.1k  Omegaverse, Coworkers to Lovers, Pining, Heat/Rut

The Coach Tommo Universe || @enchantedlandcoffee || 8.8k Omegaverse, Kid Fic, Fluff and Smut, Bakery Owner Harry

I’d Walk Through Fire For You (Just Let Me Adore You) || @neondiamond || 8.3k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, Firefighter Louis

There With Open Arms || @cupcakentea || 7.6k Omegaverse, Beta Louis, Omega Harry, Dropping

Dance With Your demons || @pocketsunshineharry || 6.7k Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Mild Hurt/Comfort

Almost Misheard || @tommokat || 6.5k Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, Idiots to Lovers

Everything I need, I get from you || @lunarheslwt || 6.4k Omegaverse, Anxious Harry, Established Relationship, Valentine's Day

Something Blue & Someone New || @littleroverlouis || 6.1k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Courting, Neighbor AU

Take My Hand, Dumbass || @londonfoginacup || 5.9k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Roommates AU, College AU, Enemies to Lovers

Perfect, For Now || @parmahamlarrie || 4.9k Omegaverse, Neighbor AU, New Towns, Touch Starvation, Misunderstandings

Open Up Your Honey Pot || @polaroidlouis || 4.8k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Frat Boy Louis, Service Top Louis

In an octopus's garden with you || louisismycat || 4.6k ** Omegaverse, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Established Relationship, Autistic Harry, Fluff & Comfort

Feel the Heat Through Your Phone || @larry-hiatus || 4.3k Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Phone Sex, Heat

The Cat that Got the Cream || @suesheroll || 4.2k Omegaverse, Virgin Harry, Friends to Lovers

Wanna Make Your Body Numb || @letthemusicmoveyou28 || 3.8k Omegaverse, Dom/Sub, Club Owner Louis, Established Relationship

Wordplay 2023: there his charming nest doth lay || @bottomhaztoplou || 3.8k ** Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Nesting, Domestic Fluff

I need you right now, baby (won’t you come home?) || @non-binharry || 3.3k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Heist, Humor

No (Birth) Control || @haztobegood || 2.8k Omegaverse, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Plot

and it was love at first blush || @bottomhaztoplou || 2.4k Omegaverse, Historical AU, Ballroom Dancing, Courtship, Courting Rituals

Simply the Nest (Better Than All The Rest) || @homosociallyyours || 2.2k Omegaverse, Strangers to Lovers, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Nesting

listen to me, butterfly || wherewestwood || 2.1k Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Canon, Nesting

I Trust You || @neondiamond || 1.8k  Established Relationship, Omegaverse, Ace Harry, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis

I’ve secretly always wanted to be yours (and for you to be mine) || @bottomhaztoplou || 1.6k Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Heat/Rut, Older Louis, High School AU

[lu-dao-writes]

— 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 (𝘼𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖!𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 𝙆𝙖𝙢𝙤)

꒰ྀི ᥫ᭡ 𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 Despite being semi aware of his and his siblings existence, that’s all he knows. Choso not only has to navigate being fully alive, but he has to understand his role as the older brother, and understand his role as an alpha.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Omegaverse/ABO dynamics, SPOILERS, scenting, nesting, Kenjaku and him being a questionable dad, Mahito being… himself really, mentions of sex/ heats and ruts, mentions of porn watching, gn!reader, reader is Gojo’s sibling (you decide if biological or not), reader’s dynamic is not specified but hinted you’re either an alpha or omega, angst, bittersweet ending, vague threat alluding to sa not made by Choso but Kenjaku, grief.

𝘼/𝙉 It’s finally here (on my tumblr anyway lol)! This is more of a character study for Choso that I wanted to do, and because I also wanted to do an omegaverse piece. Reader and Choso interact later down the line, and the last bit is just the Reader’s perspective. Not too confident with the last bit but I’m ready to be done lol. Idk if I should have the minors dni warning cause there’s nothing super explicit here, but I’d say this is probably for a mature audience? I’ll be lenient but I’d rather not see a 13 year old like this🤣. But I hope y’all enjoy this! Also thank you for your patience!𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ꒱ྀི

꒰ྀི𝙒𝘾: 5,232 ꒱ྀི

꒰ྀི 𝙏𝙖𝙜(𝙨) 🏷️ ꒱ྀི @staygoldsquatchling02

THE first breath of life is usually a special, momentous moment.

Sometimes it’s the start of a miserable existence where a soul must struggle before finding the sweet taste of… Whatever it is.

But for Chōsō, it’s more disorienting than anything, and the main thing on his mind is his family.

Chōsō and the rest of his siblings have been aware of each other, almost as if they’re connected by a mind link, but there’s no words to be said nor heard. It’s just a faint thrumming, almost like the thin strands of a spider's web being plucked.

The death painting cared not for anything else outside of his siblings.

That is until he had to when he took his first official breath.

Chōsō awakens to two people in front of him; two men with various smiles plastered on their faces. One a mild smile with slight interest in his eyes with ink black hair cascaded down past his shoulders, a scar across his forehead and dressed in some traditional getup.

And the other has giddy, dual colored eyes seemingly bright with.. Something that makes him feel a bit uncomfortable. He’s got dull blue hair and stitches in various spots on his body.

After briefly studying their appearance, scents infiltrate his nose. A wave of multiple things and so overwhelmingly strong that it makes his skin itch and belly clench.

On one hand there’s a mix of spicy, and smoky with hints of sweetness, and on the other hand it’s sour and bittersweet.

Chōsō covers his nose before becoming slightly infatuated with his new appendage. Too pale skin with a few bulging veins. He wiggles his fingers before a voice finally speaks up.

“You’re finally awake, Chōsō,” the dark haired man speaks, his voice giving Chōsō the feeling like something creeps up his spine, but he’s not sure if it’s a pleasant feeling or something dreadful.

Chōsō blinks at him cluelessly, purple eyes mirroring each other as they look at one another, but eventually Chōsō can see a hint of delight in the others eyes, but his face remains composed.

The man with the stitches giggles, the sound being higher pitched compared to the ink haired man.

Chōsō looks at the other with a bit of confusion.

“Ignore him, but I’ll cut to the chase. Your name is Chōsō and you are the oldest of 9 siblings.”

Chōsō finds himself nodding, being aware of this knowledge, but he does not interrupt him.

“Behind you are Esō and Kechizu.”

Chōsō whips his head around, his heart swelling as he watches the vessels slowly morph until they’re at their final shape.

His beloved younger brothers…

The reasons for him to strive to be the best role model and pave the right path for them and them alone, no matter the mistakes he’s bound to make.

His responsibility…

“You are responsible for them and each other,” the man continued from behind him.

The man with dual colored eyes wanders closer, crouching down near Esō and Kechizu. He reaches out and pokes at them carelessly, the action infuriating Chōsō to a high degree. He acts before he could comprehend what he's doing, his hand smacking the other’s away and a rancorous snarl spilling from within his throat, startling himself. His eyes are wide and he touches his throat, the pad of his middle, ring, and index fingers pressing at his Adam’s apple.

The man that was prodding at his brothers only cackles. “Oh, he didn’t like that!”

“Mahito, I suggest not testing him too much. He’s an alpha that doesn’t know how to control himself, and I certainly won’t help if you get hurt because you couldn’t stop running your mouth,” the other man warns, not sounding concerned in the slightest.

The unserious man, Mahito, scoffs. “Oh please, Getō, I’m not scared of some untrained alpha mutt.”

Chōsō is left even more confused, but he’s not insulted, instead he focuses on hovering over his brothers, not wanting Mahito to touch them again.

Now that he’s more present, he can tell who’s smell is who. Mahito’s is the one that smells sour and bittersweet, while Getō is the smoky, sweet and spicy one. It’s still overwhelming to smell them both, the urge to snap at both of them was strong, but he was not going to break composure again unless necessary.

Esō and Kechizu’s scents were slowly coming to life, their scents not being bothersome to Chōsō.

Esō smells faintly of something soft, floral, and sweet, but underneath that it’s death.

And Kechizu’s scent is earthy, metallic, and also smells of death underneath it all, but his scent is not as strong as everyone else’s.

They’re perfect in his eyes.

Chōsō holds their hands as they wake up, his gaze almost blank but there’s a touch of softness there in those dark purple eyes of his.

“Hello younger brothers,” he greets, his voice dull while his hands hold theirs tenderly.

“You’re Esō,” he directs to his brother who looks like an unearthly human.

He then looks to his other brother who looks less human. “And you’re Kechizu.”

Esō and Kechizu smile at him and wrap their arms around him, their scents meshing together and onto each other’s skin like a semi permanent tattoo.

Seeing their smile, and feeling their warmth… Chōsō wants to make sure he keeps them safe and happy.

Mahito scoffs and Chōsō is alerted.

“Chōsō is the only one that looks good. How come the other two look so gross?”

Another cord of uncontrollable anger surges through him, but he restrains himself enough that only a small growl leaves his throat, purple eyes glaring pins and needles into Mahito who looks like he couldn’t care less.

Esō’s scent suddenly grows foul, permeating through the room and alerting everyone.

It further pisses Chōsō off but before he could lose the little amount of control he has, Getō cuts in calmly.

“Where are my manners? I’m Getō Suguru, and I’m sure you heard me address him as Mahito. Before we let the three settle in I have more to discuss with you.”

Chōsō noticed while Getō was talking that he had a way to command his attention even though Chōsō was far more focused on making sure his brothers were okay, especially Esō.

Getō goes on to talk about his plans for the world and wants them to join in his cause. Chōsō frankly does not care, as long as he and his siblings can live peacefully in this “new world”.

“We’ll join under one condition,” Chōsō declared once Getō was finished with his speech.

Said man’s smile grows an inch. “Go on and name your condition.”

Chōsō speaks firmly, never once wavering as he and Getō stare each other in the eyes. “As long as my brothers, as well as our other siblings, can live peacefully in the end of all of this, we’ll cooperate.”

Getō looks like he expected nothing less from the ill looking man. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Seeming that it seems to be a deal, he nods before speaking again. “Now then, what is with you calling me an alpha?”

“Ah yes! I will give you books on your biologies and as well as get you and Esō the proper medications you’ll need.”

Mahito gags, toying with his hair. “Those pesky suppressants. Who even needs those when they end up becoming a problem later?”

Chōsō’s eyes fly open with alarm, his purple orbs darting over to Getō and narrowing slightly, silently demanding an explanation.

Getō waves off his gaze, still having that carefree expression of his. “That’s years and years down the line.” Then he suddenly pins Chōsō with a knowing stare, looking a little arrogant now. “Esō is an omega and without them he could get hurt. You wouldn’t want that now would you?”

Chōsō swallows and only gives him a stiff nod, the terms still lost on him, but if the medication can keep Esō stable for now, that’s all he needs to know. He’ll figure out another solution later when he’s more knowledgeable.

Getō then guides the three beings into a room and inside there’s a large bed, small wooden desks beside the bed, light fixtures, a tv, empty bookshelf, a standing mirror, and a fuzzy couch. On the bed there’s a pile of random articles of clothing and some shoes that the siblings wander over to.

“This will be your living space, when you’re able to go outside feel free to buy anything to liven the place up more,” Getō advises, remaining at the doorway. “I’ll let you three get dressed and I’ll be back shortly.”

The siblings don’t acknowledge him, focused on finding the right pieces of clothing for themselves.

And Chōsō finally runs into his first problem as an older brother. When Esō was trying his first set of clothes on, he was absolutely horrified when he saw what was on his back. His scent soured and stunk up the room, drowning Chōsō and Kechizu.

Esō moves away from the standing mirror, keeping his back away from his brothers, his eyes slightly welling up. “I look disgusting!” he gasps, a million thoughts and scenarios passing through his eyes and it makes Chōsō panic and clam up. He wants to help him immediately, but when he takes a step towards him, he’s lost on what to even say.

“Esō don’t be so harsh on yourself. Kechizu nor I even batted an eye on what’s on your back. You’re not disgusting,” Chōsō explains to him, his voice blunt but with a twinge of gentleness.

Esō's expression softens but he looks off to the side, his attention elsewhere again. He shakes his head and moves to the pile of clothes again. “Please.. Don’t look at my back.”

“But-.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Please, Ani…”

Chōsō wants to push, but hearing the pleading in Esō’s voice makes him reluctantly sigh and let it go. He only wants to make his brothers happy, and if Esō doesn’t want to talk about it, fine. He’ll have to trust that whenever Esō’s ready he’ll come talk to him.

“I don’t think I want to wear any of these,” Kechizu chimes in before the silence could swallow them. “It’s not like I’ll be able to walk out in public anyways,” he adds with a shrug and tossing the shirt in his hand, not having a care in the world about that fact.

Chōsō hopes that Kechizu keeps that attitude because he doesn’t even know how to help Esō with his current situation.

“That’s fine,” Chōsō murmurs, admiring some boots that were on the bed.

Once dressed to their liking, Esō’s smell had gradually turned back to normal, easing the other two.

“Are you both comfortable?” Chōsō checks in.

“We’re fine!” Esō replies while Kechizu nods with a smile. “Are you?”

Chōsō nods with a hum. “I want you both to have the bed. The couch will be fine with me.”

They tried to argue and insist that he could also take the bed with them, but Chōsō insisted that he already took a liking to the couch anyways. Since the younger siblings knew there was no way to change Chōsō’s mind, they give up, settling down onto the bed.

“What do you think of all of this?” Esō eventually asks.

“All I care about is my family,” Chōsō answers without hesitation. “We live for each other, and as your older brother I’ll do my best to keep you both happy and safe.”

‘I will set a good example for them like I’m meant to. Even if I stumble along the way..’

“And we’ll keep you safe and happy!” Kechizu declares with Esō nodding with his arms crossed.

“That won’t be necessary but I appreciate it,” he says softly, lips curling up slightly. “Your happiness makes me happy.”

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door before it opens, revealing Getō with books and a bag of medicine in hand like he promised. “Here you all go,” he says, handing them off to Chōsō.

Chōsō stares at the book that was on top: “Alpha Biology 101 For Dummies.”

“Whenever you three are ready the rest of us will be out here,” he says before gliding away once more.

As Chōsō learns to grasp what life is now for him and his brothers, he soon learns the meaning of what are alphas, betas, and omegas.

Kechizu is a beta. People with this dynamic don’t have to take suppressants like alphas and omega have to to regulate sexual urges. Their scent is not as overpowering, and… Well… In simple terms they’re basic.

Not his words.

Now onto omegas. Omegas were highly sought after, spoken of like they’re prized treasures. They have heats that occur and are said to be “submissive” and the “caregivers” of society. Lot of the texts in the books he was given speak of omegas being frail and are made to be infantilized. It was weird, and it made him feel dread in the pit of his gut as he thought of either of his brothers being treated that way.

Chōsō was conflicted about what was being told to him from the books, and his own analysis from being around his brothers, Mahito, and omegas outside the hideout.

Mahito and Esō were not submissive. While Esō is sensitive that does not mean that he’s submissive. He’s clever and likes to dominate the room and anyone that tries to walk over him. Just as long as no one speaks or gazes upon the face on his back he’s fine.

Mahito… He’s playful, sadistic, and dominates the room, especially those he considers inferior. He’s anything but fragile and doesn’t need protection. The world is his playground and he doesn’t care who gets hurt or what gets broken by him.

Chōsō knows there’s not a caring bone in his body.

If anything.. Kechizu, despite being a beta, had what the textbook would describe as “omegan behavior”…

Even while he people watched he could see that what was said in the textbook was so… Wrong. Outdated.

It all just seems to be one big insult to omegas while only slightly uplifting them.

But Chōsō takes the basics so that he’s got a foot to stand on when taking care of Esō's and his omegan needs. And of course he made mistakes along the way, and at first he’s hard on himself when it comes to forgiveness.

Esō likes to nest with minimalistic things, even though he’s somewhat forced too since the brothers don’t have much to begin with. Esō also isn’t a perfectionist when it comes to his nest. He just wants one or two items that belong to his brothers and somewhere comfortable. He’s not big on constant need of physical touch, something he snapped at Chōsō for when he tried to coddle him a little too much. He does however like to wear bracelets that have Chōsō and Kechizu’s scent on them. It’s something he never likes to take off unless they need to be rescented. Those bracelets keep him happy just as much as being in his brother’s presence.

But finally onto alphas…

Alphas seemingly have too much power. They’re viewed as dominant, aggressive, and almost as gods, and the superior beings of the world. Like omegas they have heats, but they’re called ruts.

But once again, Chōsō goes off what he sees amongst Getō, Jōgo, himself, and people outside.

Chōsō has yet to really lose his senses, unless it comes to his family. But he’s not possessive of anything, outwardly aggressive, and he doesn’t even look like a typical alpha, something Jōgo mumbled about once with Mahito also agreeing halfheartedly.

Chōsō also doesn’t bother to assert himself when it comes to Jōgo or Getō.

Jōgo every now and then tries it, but Getō asserts himself elegantly without doing much effort, and he mocks Jōgo when he fails.

There’s also a big aspect on sexual urges and he himself hasn’t crossed that path and neither has his brothers.

Even when he accidentally walked in on Mahito cackling about the porn he was watching- although the obscene noises startled him- it overall did nothing to him.

Briefly he does wonder if something is wrong with him, but in the end he doesn’t care enough. He appreciates that he doesn’t have to deal with it because it’ll just get in his way.

Chōsō believes he has a decent understanding of all the dynamics, but he has no interest in telling anyone how they should behave. It’s not his place and he sees no point in it.

People watching has helped, but soon it starts to take a toll on him. Looking at the humans… He has no hatred towards them, but looking at them constantly reminds him how his other siblings will not be welcomed. Only he can walk around without much problem, and that sucks.

So eventually he stops going out so much, keeping himself at the hideout and leaving only when necessary.

He just hopes that following Getō’s plans doesn't come to bite him in the ass later…

But unfortunately the universe isn’t so kind to him. While playing a silly little board game with the other residents, Chōsō feels like his heart was being gripped so tight while simultaneously being slowly torn apart and beating rapidly, his mind flashing with images. He ignores Mahito’s whining and barely even moved to respond to Getō when he asked if he was okay.

“Both… Both of my brothers just died,” he says, his voice heavy. His scent is sour and oozing from him, causing Mahito to complain more before he’s distracted by something Getō says.

Chōsō breaks through the static when he feels Getō’s hand on his shoulder, gazing at him with a slight look of sympathy. The game board was already cleared up and everyone else was gone, leaving them alone.

“Let’s go retrieve their bodies,” Getō orders lightly.

Chōsō blinks at him, a little stunned he’s willing to even do that for him. He just nods, his throat thick with saliva. Or maybe it’s bile.

As they walk together Getō never once walks ahead, just remains at Chōsō’s side. His scent wraps around him as if to comfort him, and he still doesn’t know what to make of it, but it does keep him grounded and… It feels nice.

But surely he’s not trying to act like a father to him. Getō’s not soft either.

Chōsō pushes it aside for now the moment he sees his dead brothers laid up next to one another. That’s when the tears suddenly came.

Tears continuously drip down his pale cheeks, never ceasing even as he tries to swipe them away. He falls to his knees and hugs their bloodied bodies into him, sobbing and begging for their forgiveness for not being there and saving them.

He felt their fear and it was sickening. He felt everything up until they took their last breaths.

Chōsō whimpers that he’ll avenge them. He’ll slaughter Yūji Itadori and Nobara Kugisaki for what they’ve done.

Getō watches with a soft expression, his lips quirked just slightly with wicked twinkle in his eyes. He reaches over to lightly ruffle Chōsō’s head, comforting him and letting him grieve.

After properly burying his brothers, Chōsō started caring less and less about the plain, the only thing truly fueling him being revenge.

So during the fight with Gojō Satoru in the Shibuya subway he hardly put much effort into it, letting Jōgo and Hanami take the lead and do the heavy lifting.

From Getō, Chōsō has been made aware just how strong he is, and Chōsō has no wish to die by his hands. His quarrel is not with him and he doesn’t want Gojō to be in his way.

Especially not when he’s so close to his brothers’ killers.

Just when Chōsō can find himself falling asleep due to sheer boredom and from his legitimate lack of sleep, a sudden scent wafts in the air and punches him straight in the lungs, his pupils slowly widening. There’s a sudden electricity running through his veins and he’s become alert, head swiveling around.

It’s a scent so alluring and it floats around the subway, slowly becoming stronger, and standing out amongst the gore and sour rot. It comes closer until his head is snapped to the side, a foot quite literally snapping him out of it.

Chōsō grunts as he crashes to the ground, and when he looks at his attacker he’s once again stupefied.

“This right here is Gojō Satoru’s sibling. A special grade just like him. Do be careful if you happen to cross paths,” Getō warns before slipping the photo back into his pocket.

Chōsō only grunts, his disinterested eyes moving off to the side.

The air around them is almost electric and soon enough the light overhead bursts, but neither flinch.

Chōsō assumes it’s the youngest Gojō’s technique, but he’s not certain, nor does he dwell on it for long, his brain becoming inebriated from the scent.

Neither move and the once fierce expression on the other’s face slowly morphs into one of trepidation, scent souring and causing him such great discomfort that he lets out a timorous whine he couldn’t withhold.

Chōsō’s skin suddenly becomes hot, tingling all throughout his limbs, and something stirs to life deep within himself.

Those pretty eyes still have him locked in place before they’re gone within a blink of an eye.

“Satoru!”

The ever thinning bit of control he has is snapping thread by thread, and he’s down to the last few strings.

“Y/N, for once just listen to me and get the hell out of here! Go warn the others, I’ll be fine!”

Dark purple eyes watch as Gojō Y/N struggles for a moment before unwillingly turning tail to leave the scene, effortlessly blasting away any trouble that stood in the way. Chōsō was surprised that Getō even allowed it to happen.

But that’s beside the point. The moment the younger Gojō disappeared, Chōsō felt like everything was going to collapse around him, his mind struggling to stay coherent and rational, his scent unknowingly stinking up the room.

Find Gojō Y/N and cage the sorcerer in his arms.

‘Follow the scent, take Gojō Y/N, keep safe. Don’t let Y/N die like I let my brothers die.’

Despite wanting to give chase, the small, single strand of sanity left in him told him not to do such a thing. He’d be what he’d criticized other Alphas for. He may be half curse but he’s no insatiable animal.

“Woah,” he heard Mahito remark. “Looks like we’ve got a problem. Chōsō seems to have finally hit his rut! Talk about bad timing!”

‘Rut? This is what a rut feels like..?’

“Is that so?” Getō croons, with a wicked look of delight. He studies Chōsō’s panting figure before taking a peek back at a shaken Satoru.

“Pfft, it was all because of Gojō Y/N! That’s hilarious! Are you a masochist, Chōsō since you’re getting all excited from a kick to the face? Priceless!” Mahito giggles.

Chōsō can see Satoru begin to struggle even more despite it being futile, he’s bound up so tight and soon going to be swallowed into the prison realm. He’s snarling furiously and his feet even manage to crack a few tiles underneath him, but Chōsō can tell from his panting there’s a bit of panic.

For a moment Chōsō can get him. His family is possibly in danger and he can do nothing but struggle.

He’s mildly offended though since the last thing he wants to do is hurt the ones he’s drawn to. But he understands so he doesn’t take it to heart.

Chōsō’s attention soon goes back to Getō who throws his head back, laughter spilling his lips. “Oh, this is unexpected!”

The laughter only pisses Satoru off and excites Mahito. And meanwhile Chōsō is left with anticipation along with the others.

After his fit of laughter Getō hums with amusement and turns to look at Chōsō, smiling oh so sweetly with an evil twinkle in his eyes. “Well, go on then, Chōsō.”

Chōsō blinks, hearing his own ragged breathing and the permission granted from Getō.

“Go on and hunt Y/N down if you wish. It’s a shame I couldn’t capture them both, but this can work just as well if you capture—.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Satoru practically howls, nearly foaming at the mouth.

But Getō ignores him, still staring daggers into Chōsō’s eyes. “Go, Chōsō. Take what’s yours.”

Chōsō feels disgust bubbling in his gut at his words, feeling that the ravenette meant something more sinister when he told him that. But he takes this chance and runs, wanting to find the person that triggered his rut and hope the ache goes away. He also hopes he can keep himself together.

You sprint like you never have before, the wind smacking your face and your lungs beginning to burn. Your heartbeat is like thunderous drums and the air doesn’t seem breathable to you.

That scent.

The scent of elderberries, a pinch of spice, and a touch of blood…

It’s imprinted in your mind no matter how much you try to forget it.

There’s just no way that he’s your fated one.

The universe truly likes to play wicked games…

What’s worse is that it seems like your meeting has brought upon his rut. You just hope to god that your cycle won’t come about from this.

You always take your medication, never missing a beat, but when alphas and omegas typically meet their fated pair or pairs it sometimes doesn’t matter, a cycle may or may not occur.

The best case for you obviously is that if you do hit your cycle, it comes after the battle. If you’re still alive anyways..

So you keep your fingers crossed and push it aside, trying to find the nearest group around.

And thankfully it’s Nanami’s you run into.

Just as you’re about to break the news you’re swiftly cut off by Yūji bellowing out that your brother has been sealed from atop a building.

It makes your chest ache at the news.

“Yeah… S’what I wanted to say,” you pant.

“There’s still hope since we have you here,” Nanami soothes while striding up to you, keeping calm and collected as he typically did.

“There’s just one more problem..”

“And that is?”

“I… I ran into an alpha who’s in a rut,” you explain, leaving out the crucial detail so as to not embarrass yourself. “And he may or may not be coming after me. I didn’t stop to check because Satoru really wanted me out of there,” you continue before gasping, a familiar face appearing in your mind.

“Oh shit! Kento, I just remembered! Suguru— no .. Someone wearing his face is the one behind this.”

Nanami’s eyes widen just a tad and a heavy sigh leaves him. Ino and Megumi both also become alarmed in various degrees.

“That truly is a problem for us all… Here.” The blond alpha rubs his wrist glands against the ones at your neck, dousing you in his comforting scent and slowly muting out yours.

Megumi even comes over and rubs his and your wrists together, not saying a word and not meeting your appreciative stare.

Meanwhile, Yūji is still yodeling.

“Thanks, Gumi. Go ahead and get Yuji,” you tell him softly, ruffling the young alpha’s spiky hair.

The teenager only nods before heading off to get to his friend.

Ino comes over and slings an arm around you for support and to subtly put his own scent on you while Nanami’s nose twitches a few times.

“Your scent should be muted enough, and I’m sure blood and sweat will cover it even more so you should be okay.”

“Thanks, you guys didn’t have to,” you murmur with a weak smile, anxiety still nipping at your heels.

“What did he look like,” asks the blond as you three head up to meet Yuji.

“Dude looks like he’s on death’s doorstep. Like sickly pale looking, dark bags under his eyes, cute spiky space buns, and he’s wearing mostly white and got a purple vest.”

He hums. “Noted. Try to stay with someone if you can.”

You nod. Simple enough but not completely possible.

And as expected you were practically everywhere in Shibuya as the battle ensued, curses swarming the city and people that’s still within the veil being in danger.

You do your best to keep everyone safe, especially the kids, but when the ground underneath you suddenly gets sliced along with a street sign, you throw yourself down the subway where Yūji went not too long ago, slaughtering curses that stood in your way

The underground transit is in complete disarray. Broken glass, walls dented and crumblings, electrical wiring exposed and popping, and blood splattered almost everywhere like it was some art project and the blood is red paint.

Suddenly a wall that connected from the bathroom crumbles away slightly, revealing a bit of pink hair peeking from the other side.

Your feet are already moving, Yūji’s name nearly falling from your lips as dread grips you tight and unforgivingly.

And there’s that smell again, only this time it’s ten times stronger…

Right as you get inside you see the man from before standing over Yūji’s body seemingly about to deliver the killing blow.

Fated person or not, no one was going to hurt the people you care about.

So with your technique you manipulate the water spurting out from the pipes and use it to lock onto the man’s throat, and with an aggravated cry you swing him around and throw him through the wall he made Yuji hit, feeling an immense amount of satisfaction from the pained cry he made.

With him being spat out on the other side seemingly laid out for now and away from Yūji, you rush to cradle the young omega’s bloodied body, fretting over him and trying to figure out how to deal with his shoulder.

You don’t have much to help him and you snap at Sukana to do something, but the bastard for once doesn’t have anything smart to say, the boy still unconscious and bleeding. You pick him up and rush out of the bathroom when a voice stops you in your tracks.

“W-Wait… Please don’t… Don’t go…”

A mixture of anger, stress, and touch of guilt form a cocktail in your gut at his wheezing, panic filled voice.

You hear him dragging his body desperately amongst the rubble to try and get to you.

“You must got a few loose screws in that head of yours,” you spit, turning to look at him.

“N-No, please I—! I had no idea he’s my brother!” he coughs, his pale lips stained with blood.

Your stiffen, your grip on the wounded boy tightening slightly. Either he’s really lost it , or… No, he’s definitely lost it.

“Please I—.”

“ I can’t help you ,” you force out. “Especially when you’re currently the enemy .” And with that, you force your feet to move, leaving him behind.

And Chōsō only watches you with a helpless expression, tears stinging his eyes and a pained noise leaving him as he gives up…