#alpha x reader

you being delicate makes him feel both protective and flustered. protective because you feel like something he has to shield from the world, and flustered because he can’t believe someone so pretty and soft actually wants him.

your nurturing side wrecks him. when you fix his collar, smooth his hair, or make tea for him after a long day, he just melts. shinichiro’s not used to being taken care of as he’s always been the one responsible for everyone else, and this side of you really makes him weak.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! IZANA

izana is overall really unstable, so your softness is like the opposite of everything he has ever known.

he doesn't really understand why you're like that at first : so gentle, so weak, so pretty. but he surprisingly gets addicted fast to everything you embody.

he loves that you're always so dressed up, delicate and soft-spoken, looking up at him through your eyelashes to seek his reassurance. it makes him feel special, like you belong to him even more because such a soft omega like you chose a violent and dangerous person like him. you're something fragile only him gets to keep and claim.

he's actually lowkey obsessed with seeing you so weak and dependent on him. if you ask him to open a jar, reach something high, or walk you home, he lights up. he needs you to need him.

izana is also quick-tempered and tells himself he doesn't need anyone. however, while he would never openly admit it, he's addicted to the way you dote on him. you're soft where he's rough, you're patient where he's restless, and it makes him feel so comforted. even though he doesn’t understand why you would stay with someone like him..

with the way you carry yourself, all cute and pretty, drawing attention from other alphas, izana gets even more territorial. your gentle voice should only be his, your shy smiles and comforting touches too. which is why he keeps you close to him in public, with a hand on your waist or his scent heavy in the air. it's a warning.

he also gets jealous fast. he’s the type to go from calm to violent in seconds if someone makes a comment about you, even a “harmless” compliment. you usually have to step in, soft voice grounding him before he takes it too far.

izana has a habit of testing you. he’ll say something like, “you could do better than me. why are you still here?”. but he’s watching your every move, analysing each of your words, desperate for reassurance that you won’t leave. and when you smile all sweetly, looking like you'd trust him with your life, he calms down a bit.

indeed, when he's spacing or spiralling into his darker moods, you never raise your voice at him, you never get scared either. instead, you just quietly move closer to him, speak softly and sometimes hold his hand.

he doesnt know how to handle the way you baby him sometimes. it feels weird and unusual, he's unsure as he's never been used to that sort of gentleness in his life. like setting aside food you know he likes, or insisting he sits down so you can stitch his clothes. he’ll grumble about it, but he always lets you, because he's secretly starved for your attention.

and your softness makes him protective in return. to him, you’re glass — fragile, breakable, too good for the world he drags you into. he doesn’t trust anyone else with you, because he’s terrified they won’t be as careful as he is with you.

izana also secretly loves all your "girly" habits. he'll often act indifferent when you ask him about which bow looks better in your hair, telling him about your new nail polish and your sugary perfume you just bought. he listens to you humming while you get ready for the day. but as cold as he can be, he actually memorizes everything you tell him, down to every color and detail of your beauty products.

at night, he clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. his arm is always locked around your waist, his face pressed into your neck to breathe your vanilla scent. it’s the only time he looks peaceful — cuddling with your smaller form, feeling so delicate and weaker compared to him.

he's not someone who trust others easily, but the way you care for him like he's someone who can do nothing bad in your eyes makes him trip. the way you feed him, fix his shirt and press a cute kiss to his cheek feels extra precious to him. it terrifies him how much he depends on you, but he couldn't stop even if he tried.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! HAKKAI

hakkai is absolutely gone the moment he realizes you’re actually his omega. your delicate, gentle nature hits him hard because it’s everything he doesn’t think he deserves but actually craves.

he gets shy about it too. you’ll do something as simple as brush dust off his jacket or smile sweetly at him and he’s flushing to his ears. he’ll look away, but inside he’s melting.

your very feminine energy makes his protective side kicks in nonstop. he’s hyperaware when you’re out together : scanning crowds, glaring at anyone who stares too long. he doesn’t say much about it, but his body language makes it clear that nobody should get too close. he might be the softest giant with his precious omega, but he never lets anyone overstep your boundaries — he knows you're sometimes too shy and soft-spoken to stand up for yourself, and so, hakkai will gladly do it for you.

hakkai absolutely cherishes you. he likes the way you cook for him, bringing him homemade snacks when you see each other, or the way you tell him all about the pastries you ate with your friend with sparkles in your eyes, but also how you fuss over any new injuries on his knuckles and patch him up with cute pink bandages that he'll wear proudly no matter what.

hakkai adores how soft and dressed up you are. lace, ribbons, soft dresses — he thinks you look like you stepped out of a dream, what he dreamt of when thinking about having an omega to call his own, and he can’t believe you’re walking next to him. sometimes he’ll catch himself staring and have to cover it with an awkward cough.

he’s constantly torn between wanting to wrap you up and hide you from the world and wanting to show you off so everyone knows the perfect omega chose him.

hakkai is pretty inexperienced with words, so instead he expresses how much he loves you through actions : carrying heavy things without being asked, making sure you walk on the safe side of the street, giving you his jacket even if he’s cold.

and when you nest, he’s done for. seeing your delicate little hands smoothing blankets, arranging pillows, creating a soft, safe space for the both of you to enjoy. it hits him in a place he didn’t know existed. he’ll crawl in with you and just cling, quiet but overflowing with love.

hakkai doesn’t think of you as just a dream omega. he thinks of you as the proof he finally got something right in his life.

                                    · · ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ · ·

♡. ALPHA! KOKONOI

kokonoi would actually eat that up. like, you're exactly his type.

kokonoi notices you immediately. he has an eye for detail : the pastel dress, the little gloss on your lips, the way you move so carefully, almost fragile. it’s like you’re made to be looked at, and kokonoi takes a nice good look at you.

he’s not shy about it either. unlike hakkai who fumbles, kokonoi plays right into it. “you really know how to make an alpha lose his head, don’t you?” he will say things like that casually, but the way his scent sharpens around you gives him away.

he adores spoiling you. pretty omegas deserve pretty things, and kokonoi lives for the way your eyes light up when he gifts you jewelry or takes you shopping. he’ll always say it’s nothing, but deep down, it’s his way of claiming you, showing you off with what he bought and the clothes he helped you choose. saying to the world that you're his.

he’s weak for softness. the way you brush your hair back gently, your careful manners, even the way you speak softly, it really wrecks him. sometimes he just watches you, not even hiding it, like you’re his favorite thing in the world.

kokonoi also gets possessive quickly. people stare at you ? he notices right away. and while he might not start a scene, his hand will settle heavy on your lower back, his scent threatening enough to drive others away.

he’s very tactile : always smoothing the hem of your dress, adjusting a bow in your hair, tilting your chin to admire your lip gloss. making up little excuses to touch you everywhere, to remind himself that you’re his.

Being an omega, that alone wasn’t an issue. An omega traveling without a pack however, was viewed much differently.

No one would sell you alone a weapon. They’d sell it to you if an alpha was breathing down your neck, but not to you alone. Hell, some cities wouldn’t even let omegas walk the street alone at night, no matter how well-armed they were. Even in the more relaxed cities you encountered on your travels, you knew no one would take you seriously if they realized your disposition.

That, and the whole Disease causing only omegas to go feral in the middle of the night. That was also a bit concerning.

So, you sharpened your teeth, and prayed the city guardsmen didn’t look at you too closely. They never did, but that never made the experience less nerve-wracking.

You stared back at your reflection, the mirror cloudy with a single crack on the side; its age starting to show. You opened your mouth wide, surveying your work.

That’ll do, you thought.

A stranger burst through the door, face bloodied and bruised as the noise swelled.

You recoiled, dropping the metal file and quickly grabbing the dagger off your belt. “Who the hell are you?”

The man was taller, with amber-colored skin, messy black hair down to his chin, and a thin beard on his face. He wore some type of robes and a hood, perhaps those of a priest or healer. At one point they might’ve been white. Now, they were discolored and weathered with time. He smelled strongly of tobacco; so much so you couldn’t discern if the scent came from his pheromones, or if he was just a heavy smoker.

One thing was immediately obvious; he was an alpha. Free to wander the world alone, and partake in all it had to offer.

The man let out a sigh, holding his hands up; a weak sign of surrender. “Just… give me a second,” he mumbled before walking further into the room, setting down a bag onto the bed.

Your bed. The one you had paid for, every single time you returned from a job.

You stood right in front of the bed, blocking his access to the bag he had so haphazardly set down. “I don’t care if you’re bleeding. Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my room?”

He sighed, the bleeding gash across his face appearing like nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Lady out front told me they were outta rooms, said I could spend the night here. Said the person in here might need an extra hand with a job anyways.”

…what?

You scowled, saying nothing before sheathing your dagger and walking out the room, slamming the door behind you.

You couldn’t help but be enraged; not just the man in your room, but the innkeeper too.

Who does she think he is? We had a deal. I’ve worked hundreds of jobs damn well on my own, why would she think-

As you walked towards the stairs, the putrid scent of dozens of different pheromones flooded your nostrils, all sorts of scents blending together.

Fuck.

A wave of nausea hit you instantly, far more intense than usual. Typically, you could manage a trip downstairs despite the nighttime crowds, carefully weaving between patrons to avoid the most intense scents. Now, taking another step seemed impossible; the heightened sense of smell could only mean one thing.

Your heat was approaching.

No, no, no. I’m not dealing with this right now. No. Fuck this. Begrudgingly, you turned around and headed back to your room, defeated by your own biology.

You stormed inside, only to find the stranger’s bag was still on your bed. While blood still stained his face, the wound had already disappeared in the short time you were gone.

He looked over at you, a slight smile on his face. “Someone’s not happy.”

You frowned, his cocky attitude the last thing you wanted to deal with right now.

If he could fix that so quickly, then this should be fine.

You walked back up to him, balled up your fist, and struck him across the face.

The force of your blow staggered him back, the man wincing in pain as he held onto the bed-frame bannister for support. He slowly pulled his hand away, revealing a small trickle of blood leaking from his nose as he stared back at you in shock.

You wasted no time. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you can find someone else’s room to take over, because I am not-”

He wiped the blood away from his nose, his face making it clear you had broken it. He held his hands along each side of his nose, and with one swift crack, he shifted the bones back into place, letting out little more than a grunt.

…oh, shit. It was near impossible to hide your surprise.

He took a moment to catch his breath. “Alright, fine…I’ll cut the shit. Old lady downstairs has a new job for you up North she said, and with all this talk of a Disease going around just in omegas-”

You held your hand up to stop him, hoping he didn’t notice how much it was shaking. “Shut up.” You turned around, checking to make sure the door behind you was shut and locked. “She told you?”

“Yep.”

Your heart sank. For years, nearly a decade, the old innkeeper had helped you. She had supplied you with expensive suppressant spells, helped you conceal your status when your pack cast you out, helped you get a job (albeit a dangerous one), and most importantly, helped you learn to trust again after your entire world fell apart.

…Why? Why would she do this to me?

Denial was far easier than acceptance. “No, she…she wouldn’t do that. Please don’t tell anyone. Please, I’m sorry I hit you, I’m sorry I-”

“I’m not gonna’ tell nobody,” he spat, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Just, relax, alright? And don’t hit me again.”

“How can I? How can I relax when-”

“Our situations aren’t all that different, alright? Neither of us have a pack, you’re an omega, and I’ve got the Disease-”

You paused. “Wait, wait, stop. Stop. If you’ve got the Disease, then you’re also an omega?”

“No. But it was all the same symptoms, least from what I had heard. Suppose I’m one of a kind.”

The stories you had heard in passing sounded terrifying; omegas going feral, as if their Beastblood had overtaken them. They’d mindlessly attack everyone who wasn’t their mate or children, even other members of their pack. Their fangs would grow, their bodies shifting and contorting to take the form of a werewolf, before going on a chaotic killing spree.

In some stories you had heard, they’d attack anyone.

“…so you’re an alpha, then?”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

…he must be able to smell me. If I’m this close to my heat, he has to know.

Your worries were soon quelled as he continued. “But ever since I had my…outburst, I suppose we’ll call it, my sense of smell has been all fucked up. I can’t smell anything, at least not like how I used to.”

Oh. Well that’s convenient.

You slowly nodded your head, hoping he didn’t notice how relieved you were. “I see. I…I’m sorry about that. How could you have gotten the Disease, if you aren’t an omega?” No matter how convenient it was for you, losing their sense of smell might as well have been like losing a limb for someone with Beastblood.

He shrugged, “great question. No one knows. But, the lady downstairs says she knows someone who could help. Or at least, help me get my sense of smell back.”

“Really?” You hadn’t heard of any type of cure.

He nodded. “They say there’s a man up North studying it. He claims to be an omega who once had it. Course, all his studies are done under observation; everyone’s worried about when he’ll snap. But the lady downstairs got me in contact with him.”

North- where your job was. You still didn’t know what this job was, or even if it really existed, only hearing about it from this stranger.

You let out a sigh. “Let me get this straight. The lady downstairs has a job for me up North, but they’re incredibly strict about omegas coming and going because of the Disease going around.”

“Yep.”

“And you need to go up North because you have that Disease, despite being an alpha.”

“Mmhmm.”

He was meant to accompany you. You let out a groan; you didn’t need a chaperone. You looked him up and down. You had killed men far larger than him before, time after time. If anything, he’d get in the way.

He easily sensed your frustration. “Look, all either of us need to do is get to the city, get out, then we go our separate ways. I get it, you usually work alone, or whatever.”

“And what does you need me for?” You asked, still skeptical. “What do you get out of this?”

“Protection.”

You let out a laugh. No sane alpha would willingly recruit an omega to be their protector. When his expression stayed the same, you realized he wasn’t joking. “…you’re serious?”

He nodded. “I’m told you’re good with a bow. I can defend myself, but it’s a long trip. I figure we can help each other.”

“Oh yeah?” You scoffed, “and what do you do?”

“I’m a healer,” he answered plainly. “Figured that was obvious from,” he vaguely gestured to his face, his earlier wounds gone. “You know.”

…that does make sense. But if the Disease makes omegas go feral, then how the Hell does it affect him? That gash must’ve come from somewhere…

“So…the Disease,” you hummed as you started to pace around the room. “What does it do to you, outside of your sense of smell being gone? Are you going feral?”

He let out an awkward laugh, “of course not.”

“Does it have anything to do with what happened earlier?”

The man was quiet, looking towards the door. “Uh…no. That’s different.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” you spat. “How do I know that you aren’t going to kill me in my sleep?! Hell, how do I know you’re not going to give it to me?”

“I can’t. At least, that’s what I’ve found in my own research. No one knows how it spreads-”

“Lovely,” you scoffed. “I get a chaperone, and you get a test subject,” you rolled your eyes.

“We know how it doesn’t spread through the air, and so far, no infected omega has given it to their mates, so that rules a few other things out. Could be blood, could be some curse from the Gods, could be some sort of insect, who knows? But I can confidently say traveling with me doesn’t carry any risk of infection. You have my word.”

You folded your arms, still unsatisfied with his answer. “You never told me your plan for not mauling me in my sleep.”

“That…” he sighed. “Earlier, down there, that wasn’t related to the Disease.”

“What was it, then?”

“Just me being an asshole.”

Unfortunately, he got a smile out of you, but it didn’t last long. “Still. If you go-”

“Then you’re capable of killing me. Least, that’s what the old lady says. Obviously it’s not ideal, but…But nothing close to that has happened. I didn’t even think alphas could get the Disease, so maybe it affects us differently.”

You weren’t willing to trust him so easily, crossing your arms. “Hmph. Is there really no other room available? Do you have to be here?”

“I can check, but…”

You grabbed his bag and set it on the wooden floor. You could’ve been much meaner, but managed to show restraint. “I paid for the room, so I get the bed.” You began rearranging the pillows and blankets to form a nest out of habit.

Wait. I can’t let him know I’m approaching my heat.

He didn’t seem to notice, paying you no mind as he walked towards the side of the bed, laying down and using the bag as a pillow. “Fair enough.”

You nodded your head, hiding your relief. “Good. Now I’m going to bed. Try not to kill me in your sleep.”

He smiled, “no promises.”

Ugh.

———————

As the night progressed, so did your impending heat.

Even in the early stages, you could feel tiny amounts of slick between your legs. You pulled the blanket over you, hoping your new companion to the right of you wouldn’t see.

Yet even if he couldn’t smell you…you could smell him.

It was a biological instinct, a desire you had no way of turning off. He had taken off the tobacco-scented robes, revealing a scent unlike any you had ever encountered; sweet, yet smoky, like caramel left for too long on a stove.

You kept your body turned away from him, clutching one of the many pillows in an attempt to keep yourself distracted.

No matter how long you shut your eyes, you just couldn’t fall asleep.

Ever so slowly, you turned towards him, watching him sleep beside the bed. He had taken off the mages robes he had worn initially, the clothing underneath a lightweight tunic and pants.

You watched as his chest rose and fell, a peaceful look on his face as he slept.

…he is nice to look at.

You looked him up and down, and you quickly wished you hadn’t, feeling your cock grow hard between your legs.

Strained against the cotton fabric of the man’s pants was the outline of his hard cock, fully erect. Even if the man’s mind wasn’t aware of your heat, his body knew exactly what was going on.

You stared at it for longer than you’d care to admit.

He’s asleep. Maybe if I just…maybe if I cum, I’ll be able to fall asleep. Just to clear my head.

You ensured your body was fully obscured by the blanket, beads of sweat rolling down your body. Your hand trailed down, and you slipped your pants down just far enough for your cock to spring free, precum staining the blanket.

Shit.

You continued, stroking yourself back and forth, biting your lip to hide ragged breaths.

You looked back at him, your mouth watering. If circumstances were different, then maybe…

No. You were approaching your heat. Hooking up with a stranger right now would be more than just foolish; it’d be downright idiotic.

You gripped your cock tighter, stroking even faster as more precum beaded at the tip. His robes were within your reach, surely they would contain more of his scent.

You turned onto your side, facing him as you practically fucked your own hand. The smell only brought you closer and closer to release, and it soon felt as if your body had overtaken your mind.

You grabbed the robes from off the floor, shoving your face into them and inhaling deeply. The scent was almost enough to bring you to orgasm, your face growing hot as the smell of his pheromones and sweat flooded your mind.

It didn’t matter that you had just met this man. It didn’t matter that he was right beside you. In that moment, you were nothing more than a helpless animal, desperate for release.

Yet all it took was a single creak of the floorboards to take you out of your fantasies. You gasped, dropping the robes onto the floor, frozen.

There, the man whose name you hadn’t even learned yet, was staring back at you.

You quickly moved to cover yourself.

It’s dark, maybe he didn’t-

“Don’t let me stop you,” said the man, his voice low. “Go on.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, rendering you speechless. “I…” you stuttered, sweat forming at your brow. Never before had you felt so embarrassed.

“Would you rather I be offended?” The alpha asked with a smile, sitting up straighter. “Because I can be.”

I’m supposed to travel with this man tomorrow. And now he’s seen me pleasuring myself to him.

“I…” you trailed off. There was no hiding it. You weren’t just pleasuring yourself, you were pleasuring yourself to him.

“I understand you paid for this room. That the circumstances are far from ideal. But…” he rested his arms on the side of the bed, “you seem like you could use some company.”

His body knows I’m in heat. But he doesn’t. So long as things don’t go too far…

Before you could give it anymore thought, you nodded your head.

He stood up, walking to your bedside and slipping in beside you. Even if he didn’t touch you, you could feel his warmth beside you.

The stranger let out a sigh that turned to a moan. You turned around, and there he was, flat on his back, stroking himself off. You were mesmerized by the sight of his cock, eyes tracing each vein as you watched his hand move back and forth.

“I thought I was dreaming,” he rasped. “Waking up to see someone jacking off to my clothes. You looked so desperate.”

Hesitantly, you started to touch yourself once more, mimicking his movements. “I don’t sleep with strangers,” you blurted out.

“Never said anything about that,” he smiled. “We’re just…blowing off steam before the trip ahead. That’s all.”

You nodded, unconsciously moving closer to him. You rested your head against his shoulder, the smell once again sending your mind in a haze. His cock left you in a trance, your hole wet with slick.

No. Just this. Just this, then I go to bed, and we never speak of it again.

Your breaths were in sync, moaning as you both pleasured yourselves. You bucked your hips back and forth, so lost in pleasure you didn’t realize how close you were to him, his beard scratching against your face.

He too turned onto his side, facing you. His cock was nearly touching yours. His hand snaked downward, grabbing your cock and pressing it against his own. He wrapped his hand around both cocks, thrusting forward.

You couldn’t help yourself, leaning into kiss him as he fucked against your cock, his balls pressing against you. His hands moved towards your back, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer.

Please don’t touch there, I won’t be able to handle it, you thought.

Yet he respected your wishes, your hole untouched as each other’s precum glided against both of your cocks. His tongue pushed against yours, both of you muffling the other’s moans as you embraced.

Your hole ached, you wanted nothing more to be filled. You felt yourself getting close, and when you looked down, you saw the alpha’s knot begin to swell.

Just the mere sight of it was enough to bring you to the edge before you came. He pulled away, stroking himself quickly before joining you, each of you painting the other’s cock with your cum.

You pulled apart from each other. You knew the relief would only be temporary, but it was welcomed nonetheless. That was at least, until you came to your senses.

“I…” the man sputtered between breaths. “I suppose I should tell you my name. Since we’ll be spending so much time together.”

Right. Fuck.

Part 2

i dont know what's gotten into me lately but I love writing readers who are just a little bit of assholes. its fun.

but yeah uhhhh ive been thinking abt high fantasy omegaverse for a bit now, esp after this oneshot, so i got an idea and decided to run with it! plus, this gives me a break from characters that started on this blog, then became my main project, because boy i am I. a little burnt out as i approach the end of the first draft. so something with new(ish) characters could be cool

there WILL be mpreg . like im going in with mpreg in mind. so theres also that. in my other stories, i kinda tried to shoehorn that plotline in and they fell apart, but here i have a PLAN so im feeling GOOD

but yea :D thanks for reading! also vote on this im indecisive. Like I know I already said hole but I didn’t say WHICH hole there could be a bonus hole who knows the world is our oyester . But yeah! THANK U FOR READING

You were laying down on your stomach, laptop open on the edge of your bed and your notes on the on your side. At some point, your boyfriend came home from his classes and decided he wanted to cuddle. Which was…fine. Except he decided today that it needed him to lay his full, heavy weight on top of your back. He'd grabbed you tight, and nuzzled his face onto the nape of your neck. It was slow at first, and you were pretty distracted by your paper. But as the intensity increased and you felt his lips over the scent glands on the side of your neck…

The mattress dipped heavily beneath his full weight, his broad chest pressing your spine into the comforter. His nose traced slow, deliberate circles along your nape where your met cold skin, warm puffs of breath making you shiver despite your irritation. Alphas' bodies ran warmer, and he always enjoyed the colder feel of your skin.

You immediately lifted your gaze from the article on your screen to frown at him. You were a beta, but you knew aggressive scenting when you saw—er, felt it, even if you couldn't necessarily smell it.

"You do realize I can't smell any of what you're doing?"

He didn't budge an inch, pressing his full weight down with an annoyed huff, like you'd just pointed out something incredibly obvious and beneath him. "Obviously you can't," he muttered against your pulse point, breath warm and irritated. "That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"S'not about you smellin' it," he mumbled against your pulse point, breath warm and uneven. "S'about me knowin' you carry it." His hips rolled down unconsciously, pinning your thighs beneath his like he was making a statement. "God, do I have to explain everything?" He said as he buried his face deeper into the juncture of your shoulder.

"Angus. I have a paper due in four hours." You grumbled, "and you say that, but I know you get aggressive about it hoping to prove I can smell it."

He let out a low, irritated noise against your skin, the sound of a guy stubbornly insisting that you were wrong yet again and annoyed you were being difficult. The same discussion had been repeated even before you two started dating officially. His teeth grazed lightly over the spot he'd been nosing at, not quite biting, just testing the give of your flesh beneath his lips and making you fidget. "Aggressive?" The word came out muffled, petulant. "I'm being helpful. Some studies show repeated exposure increases sensitivity in—"

"Here we go," you let your forehead thunk against your keyboard, producing a line of random letters across your document.

Of course he'd researched it. Angus researched everything he couldn't control—it was probably the only thing he'd learned from his father besides which fork to use at state dinners. When he first realized he had feelings for you, he'd apparently spent weeks reading studies about beta-alpha compatibility like he was trying to find a loophole in his own biology. As if enough research would either make you an omega or convince him it was okay that you weren't.

"Don't 'here we go' me. The research is legitimate. I read like six papers on this—"

"Of course you did."

"—betas can smell pheromones if they're—"

"Strong enough. Yes. I know. You've told me," you finished for him. The reasoning memorized from your elementary school health seminar and his constant repetition of it. You tried again to shift under his weight. Nothing. The man was dead weight when he wanted to be. "And like I keep telling you, it's not that common and I'm definitely not one of them."

He broke off with a frustrated huff when you cut him off, hips rolling down harder in unconscious protest. The thick ridge of his growing bulge pressed against the back of your thigh through his Ralph Lauren chino pants, hot even through layers of cotton. "You don't know," he insisted, breath coming quicker now against your neck. "Maybe your nose is just...lazy. Needs training."

"First of all, don't call my nose lazy for abiding by normal biology." You tried to shift under his again weight with zero success.

"I'm not calling it lazy, I'm saying it's untrained. There's a difference." His grip tightened possessively. "If you'd just let me do this properly instead of fighting me every time—"

"Second of all, you already make me wear your clothes, spray your cologne on my stuff, and do this—" you gestured vaguely at your current predicament, "—every other day. It's not like I'm gonna stop you, but what's the point? I'm still not gonna smell it, and I still have homework."

Angus’s entire body stiffened—a thoroughbred caught mid-tantrum. His grip slackened just enough for you to feel the tremor in his hands before he crushed your tighter against the mattress, cheek smushed against your shoulder blade. "You don't get it," he mumbled, voice cracking like thin ice. "I need—" His hips rutted forward, shameless, the dampening heat of his erection seeping through wool trousers onto your thigh. "God, you you're so—"

"Then explain it to me instead of just—" You wiggled unsuccessfully under his weight.

"I'm trying to!" He sounded genuinely frustrated now, almost whiny. "If you'd stop interrupting—"

You felt it then, of course you felt it. The thick, insistent pressure against the back of your thigh, hot even through layers of expensive fabric.

"Are you seriously hard right now?" You couldn't decide if you were annoyed or impressed by his single-minded focus.

"Obviously." He said it like you were stupid for even asking. "It's part of scenting," he mumbled, shameless, grinding down slightly as if to prove his point. "My body knows what it wants even if your nose is too lazy to catch up."

"P-part of—" your voice had gone a little breathless despite yourself. "You don't have to be hard to scent someone, Angus."

"Maybe not for half-assed scenting." He sounded almost offended. "But if I'm doing it properly—"

"Properly," you repeated flatly.

"Yes. Properly." He insisted, completely shameless about it.

His arms tightened around your waist, possessive, yes, but trembling slightly with the effort of holding himself still. Below the surface bravado, something fragile cracked through his tone. "What if I want you covered in me? What if I need—" He cut himself off sharply, jaw working against your shoulder blade. "What if I need everyone to know because apparently just dating me isn't fucking enough."Slowly, he dragged his parted lips along your neck until his mouth hovered near your ear, above your your scent glands, making you shiver. "You don't understand," he whispered, voice gone thick and uneven. "When I'm like this...when it's bad...all I can think about is making sure…."

This was the part that always got you. Not the designer clothes or the trust fund or the country club membership. Not even the fact that everyone—your own friends included—had expected him to settle down with some omega from the 'right' family. It was this: the desperation. The neediness that came from someone who'd never needed anyone before and didn't know how to handle it.

Angus Montgomery III, who'd dated a string of elegant omegas and never called them back, who'd shown up to your first date in clothes worth more than your shitty car, who'd taken one look at you in the campus library and somehow, inexplicably, fallen for you and who still couldn't quite reconcile the fact that his biology had chosen a lower middle-class beta.

"Angus—" You tried to twist around to look at him. "Whatever spiral you're going into, we can talk about it after I submit this paper. I promise. I'll even wear your clothes for a week. But right now—"

A shudder ran through Angus's body, his grip tightening reflexively around your waist before he forced himself to loosen it. He pressed his forehead between your shoulder blades, the crisp cotton of your shirt absorbing his shaky exhale. "The clothes aren't—" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, nose dragging along your nape again as if mapping territory. "They don't stay. You wash them. Or someone else touches them. Or—"

"Angus, I'm serious, I need to—"

His teeth focused on a spot on your shoulder, worrying it between them in a nervous gesture. When he spoke again, his words came rushed and muffled against your back. "When we're apart I think about people. People talking to you. Smiling at you. Getting too fucking close." The hand splayed over your stomach flexed, fingertips pressing faint crescents into your skin through the thin material. "And I know—I know they're noticing you don't smell like anyone. That you're available. And I can't—"

"Oh my god, are you—are you spiraling right now? While humping me? While I have a deadline?"

He jerked his head up suddenly, cheek pressed hot against yours as his voice dropped to a raw whisper. "Yes, I'm fucking spiraling.You don't smell it on yourself after. Don't feel it sinking in. But I do. Every time someone gets too close to you, I can see them noticing. See them thinking they have a chance." His breath hitched, fingers twisting in the hem of your shirt. "It's the only thing that calms me down. Knowing anyone who tries anything will know you're taken. Even if you don't."

"So let me get this straight. You need to scent me because you're worried about... what, exactly? That someone's going to steal me in the campus library?"

"Yes!" He said it sharp and immediate, no hesitation. "Obviously! You think I like feeling like this? You think I want to be this—" He made a frustrated noise against your neck. "Please," he ground out, the word almost angry. A muffled groan soaked into your collar as his hips rolled down in a helpless, grinding motion against your backside. "Just let me—just need to make sure—"

"You're doing the voice," you accused.

"What voice?" He said it too quickly, too defensive.

"The sad, breathy, 'please baby' voice. I know what you're doing."

He let out a low, wounded noise against your skin—the same petulant sound he made whenever something didn't go exactly his way. You'd learned that sound well over the past six months."'m not doing anything," he mumbled into your collar, licking the side of your neck and making you squeal in surprise.

"Y-you are! You're doing that—that thing—"

"What thing?" He was pouting pathetically against your skin now, you could feel it.

You felt the exact moment you gave up. Your shoulders sagged, your fingers stilled on the keyboard, and you let out the longest, most put-upon sigh of your life.

"How long?" you asked flatly.

"What?" His voice was muffled against your neck.

"How long do you need to do this before you calm down? Because I can either fight you for an hour or just let you get it out of your system in twenty minutes."

"…An hour." He said it so quietly, so hopefully, like a kid asking for dessert.

"Twenty minutes."

"That's not enough time—"

"Twenty. Minutes."

He made an irritated noise. "Thirty. Final offer."

"This isn't a negotiation, Angus."

"Everything's a negotiation." He squeezed tighter. "Thirty minutes and I'll order from wherever you want." At the stubborn set of your mouth he quickly tried another approach, "twenty-five? Please? I'll be so good, I'll sit quietly while you work, I'll—"

"Twenty minutes," you said finally, defeat in your voice. "You get twenty minutes of whatever this is, then you're ordering us food and sitting with me while I finish this paper. And you're not allowed to bother me after."

"From where?"

"I don't care. Anywhere that delivers."

"I'll call Masa—"

"Somewhere that doesn't require a reservation three months in advance, Angus. Burgers. Chinese. Normal people food. Like Pizza Hut or something."

He went rigid against you, and for a moment the possessive contentment bled into something closer to actual panic. "But their pizza is probably—the quality—" His voice had lost its smug edge, gone tight with genuine anxiety. "What if you get sick? What if the ingredients aren't—"

"Angus."

"I'm serious." His grip tightened on your waist, almost unconscious. "You haven't eaten all day and now you want me to feed you subpar food? That's—" He made a frustrated noise that sounded more distressed than bratty. "That's not—I can't just—"

You felt the moment it clicked—this wasn't about being a snob. This was an alpha whose instincts were screaming at him that his mate was hungry and he was about to fail at the most basic level of care.

"I'm not going to get food poisoning from Pizza Hut."

"You don't know that." He looked like you'd suggested eating out of a dumpster. "Please let me at least order from that place in the North End—"

"Angus."

"—they use imported flour and—"

"Angus."

He scoffed. "Fine. 'Normal people food.'" He said it like the words hurt. He looked up with furrowed brows. "You haven't eaten anything decent all day," he repeated, and his voice had gone almost plaintive now, stripped of the usual arrogance. "I saw the kitchen when I came in.

Something in your chest clenched. Goddammit. He was doing it again—being thoughtful in the middle of being a territorial nightmare.

"Don't do that," you said weakly.

"Do what?"

"Be sweet while you're actively grinding on me and having a claiming breakdown. It's confusing."

His grip tightened on your waist. "Not confusing. I want to take care of you. Want everyone to know you're taken care of. Want—" His voice dropped, rougher now. "Want you so covered in me that even you can smell it."

"That's not how biology—"

"Don't care." He bit down on your shoulder, making you yelp. "Don't care about biology. Don't care about anything except—" His voice went muffled and whiny again. "Twenty minutes. Please. Then I'm ordering you everything on the menu and watching you eat it and making sure you're full and rested and smell like me."

Your face went hot. "You can't just—that's not—"

"Starting now," he announced, and dove back to your neck with single-minded determination, hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that made it very clear twenty minutes was going to feel like an eternity.

Your laptop screen dimmed. Then went dark.

"My paper..." you said weakly.

"Auto-saved," Angus mumbled against your neck, sounding far too pleased with himself. "I saw."

Of course he had. Of course he'd been tracking your document status while doing all of this.

You let out the longest sigh of your life and closed your laptop.

"I hate you."

"No you don't," he hummed contentedly against your skin.