#abo verse

You know you need to get an Omega to help with Alphas rut. You can barely take a knot, much less go on for days until he's finally satiated. You know what you need to do.

But yet, you cry.

You're jealous. You can't help it.

You have his mark. You have the story of how he picked you out of everyone. You have his pack. Their scents cover yours, easing into your own like each ingredient added to a angel food cake. Like a sheppards pie during the wet, cold winter. Just as a pack is supposed to be.

The thought of another, an outsider, someone who can actually be what Alphas want and need, eats you alive.

Poor Beta. Never good enough. Not even for the pack that dragged you in and claimed you for their own.

And Simon? Simon has no idea that you're freaking out in the bathroom right now, crying and snotting and pinching yourself in hopes that you're dreaming. No, Simon's making his den. Grabbing everyone's clothes, yours included, making sure everything is layered precisely the way he needs. Gruffing as he sniffs your panties, tasting you and him combined and putting it right by his head.

Johnny is laying on the couch, smiling as Simon's scent lavishes the home. Kyle is already chubbed up and can't wait to join, thinking about making the sweet little Beta soak his face before Simon gets ahold of you.

John is the only one who wonders where you are. The only one strong enough to fight against Simon's scent and the silent demand for him to get himself ready for the rutting Alpha.

John finds you eventually. You've cried yourself out and your finger is hovering over an Omegas contact. You know you should call. Should ask. Should orchestrate it all. But, you can't.

Bad Beta. Jealous Beta.

Terrible packmate.

"You doin' okay, luv?" John asks through the door, rapping on it with a heavy knuckle. You wash your face and open the door with a smile, drinking in Simon's heady scent and the way it erupts goosebumps on your skin.

Your Alpha. Your Pack. Nobody else.

"Yes! Yes, of course. Just waiting." You try to shut the door, but John's foot gets in the way. His eyebrow is raised and you can tell he doesn't believe you.

"He's about ready now. We should get ready too." Your lip wobbles and you hate it. You aren't ready. You just aren't ready.

John forces the door open and cuddles you quickly, seeing your walls break and the tears in your eyes drip down your cheeks. You poor thing. You must be so scared.

"Shh, Beta. It's o'right. He won't hurt you. Won't mate you if you don't wan'. Just tell him, okay? He'll know. He understands. He'll just wan' to cuddle you, sniff you, maybe kiss. The guys and I 'ave it handled." It takes a minute before you're pulling your head back, eyebrows twisted up in confusion.

"Dont...shouldn't I get an Omega for Simon? To help his rut?"

John barks out a laugh, holding you tighter before steering you out to the living room.

Kyle sees you first, cooing at you. Your face heats and you try to look away.

You still aren't used to Kyle shirtless. The ink on his skin—'prior lives', he's told you once before kissing you like you've hung the moon and stars—and the muscles he has. He's bulked up recently, Alphas' way of protecting their injured packmate, and the muscle on him is absolutely deadly.

He's been driving you more crazy than you want to admit.

You've been thinking about taking his knot too. How he would feel. How Simon would react. Would he be jealous? Or would you encourage you both to continue, bond in the way only a true pack can?

"First time with a rutting Alpha, lovely?" His hands grab your cheeks and gives you the softest kiss on your nose.

You burn.

"Our Simon isn't bad, lass. He'll take good care of you. Of all of us." Johnny confirms from the couch, his smile bright and eyes deadly.

"Pup here thinks Simon wants an Omega." John says, pushing you into Kyle's arms as he takes his own shirt off and starts unbuckling his pants. Both Alphas laugh.

"Oh, love, no, no, no, no, no. He'd freak out. It'd be horrible. He's not like that. We're not like that, yeah?" Kyle tries to explain, but you still don't understand.

You let him undress you anyways.

"But all rutting Alphas need an Omega. I know that." You're so sweet, Beta. Thinking you know what Alphas want, especially this special case of Alphas you have in your palm. Kyle kisses your skin as more of it is exposed. Your chest. Your breasts. Each wrist. Your scent glands.

Kyle can't help it. He pulls your pants down and slides his fingers over your flesh. He feels your goosebumps. He feels your slick starting to build.

Even a Beta is affected by rutting Alphas. Especially their own.

You gasp, but you let him. You can't focus on Johnny pulling himself out and his heavy breathing as he watches his packmates play.

John knows its time. But he still can't help himself but watch as Kyle gets you all the way naked.

You're so beautiful, Beta. Miserable, upset, longing, and still trying to help your Alpha out.

It's why you were chosen, sweet thing. Look at everything you do. How could they want anyone else?

"Mm, I know. Let's go ask Simon. Let's see what he wants, okay?" Kyle licks your cheek, tasting the salt from your tears, the sweat on your skin and feels himself instantly hard for you.

One rutting Alpha....two rutting Alphas....

"But-but-" You try to stammer out but the four of you are making your way into Simon's den.

You know if you don't make the call now, you'll never make it. Even if he begs. Even if he pleads.

You can't. It's wrong. Jealous Beta.

He's growling. It's low. It's deep. Its vibrating your chest and clit and you feel yourself being pulled in.

The door opens.

Everyone moans, yourself included.

He smells of rich earth. Of salvation. Temptation and honeysuckle.

You're salivating. You're slicking. The pack around you has heavy knots already.

You have to make that call.

"Beta thinks you want an Omega, Alpha." Kyle calls out, pushing you forward as an offering. A gift.

A sound is ripped from his chest. Vicious. Monstrous.

Intoxicating.

"Here, Beta. Now." He demands and you crawl. Your neck is exposed. Thighs are wet. Tears are coming back. You don't know why (why else would they be?).

"Wan' you, Beta. Wan' them too. Wan' you and them. Yeah?" Hard for him to speak, but you would for you.

Anything for you, Beta. You'll find out.

You nodded, eyes glazing over as his scent fully encapsulates you and the rest of the pack too.

Door is shut as the others enter. Chuffs fill your chest. Soft growls are sung back. Temperature is rising and Simon shows you how he doesn't need an Omega. Doesn't want one either.

He's got three willing holes to accept his seed and knot. Four that now includes you.

And maybe, if you and Kyle wanted to try something....well...

You are the alpha of his dreams. The dream who stepped into reality to save him. The realization makes him swoon.

He falls in love in the days of his naivety, offering you a scale from his tail in an act of quiet, instinctive devotion.

And when you take it, when you press it against your chest like a sacred vow, he knows.

He was always meant to be yours, no matter what trials your future holds.

Xavier:

The treasured omega crown prince of Philos, Xavier has spent years enduring grueling, mind-numbing courting balls, all for the sake of political alliances.

By the time he chooses you, his trusted knight, it isn’t because of love. It’s because he’s tired.

Tired of being a trophy for an alpha he doesn’t want, tired of playing the part of the perfect prince. He just wants to be done with it.

So he takes the only logical escape in front of him. A marriage of convenience.

He never expected to fall in love.

But somehow, through quiet nights and gentle hands, you change everything. Your kindness reminds him that he is more than his title, that his purpose extends beyond the throne.

Just hold him close and let him nap in your arms.

Because in a world of politics and crowns, you are the only place he can rest. For you, he will travel worlds beyond time.

Zayne:

You are both idiots in love.

You grew up together. Playing as children, bickering as teens, having each other’s backs as adults.

He never saw you as a mate. You were just his friend.

His dorm mate, who fended off riled-up alphas, who gifted him the softest blankets and cardigans when his scars ached. Who brewed coffee before med school boards and kept a supply of his suppressants on you at all times. You were kind, reliable, familiar.

That’s it, right?

Wrong.

He realizes it a little too late.

Especially when he wakes up in your bed, your scents mixed together, tangled in warmth that neither of you question.

You were never just his friend.

You were his safe place.

And maybe, just maybe, he was yours too, he thinks as he lays back down, resting his head on your chest.

Sylus:

From the moment you bowed before the Dragon Lord, your heart was his.

He, who owned the treasures of the world, was given you. A peasant beta, tribute by an indebted village.

You had nothing to return to.

Your home, brimming with siblings, had no space for another mouth to feed. At least this way, your family would be given a year’s worth of food.

Sylus did not favor mundane things.

In his den of glimmering gold, you were nothing more than an unworthy servant, bound by duty.

And yet, he could not ignore you.

Not when you, a mere human, kept doing the most human of things: cooking meals (which he did not require), washing laundry (who did that for dragons?), dusting his endless hoard (a futile task).

You were never worthy of being his mate.

And yet, somehow, there was no one closer.

You weren’t even an alpha.

But Sylus didn’t need one.

Beyond ranks and positions, there was simply presence.

And somehow, without ever meaning to, you became his greatest treasure.

In a world that did not want you, he treasured you.

Caleb:

Ever since childhood, your fates have been opposites. His in the skies, yours deep in the core of the earth.

There couldn’t be a pairing more different.

And yet— You were the one who held him when his scent shifted, the one who comforted him through the awkward, agonizing growth spurts of adolescence.

You were the one who fought for him to enter the aerospace academy as an omega.

And then, one day, he was taken from you.

And all that remained was grief. Never ending grief and hollowness.

The one who flew in the skies had been your anchor, and without him, you lost your place in the world.

So when he returns, changed, worn, distant, you find yourself asking the one question you aren’t sure you want answered:

"What did they do to you?"

And more importantly,