#leoyuu

You really, really, wished that you were transmigrated into Twisted Wonderland and not isekaied.

No, let's say that again. You really, really, REALLY wished that you was transmigrated into Twisted Wonderland and not isekaied. At least then you would still be a regular human and not … w-whatever the fuck this is. At first—the very first few years of your life as Yuu—it was all good. Fun and games, really.

School, housework, magic (which is very real and something that even you have here, holy shit) study with your momma. There where were outings with this new, yet familiar, family that you all would have every Sunday that were always a treat to go on—things you did as you slowly reacquainted yourself with them—while your old life memories and your new life memories balanced each other out.

Then all of the sudden one day, the start of the next month, your second month as Yuu, you couldn't breath. Your body felt too hot, you could smell everything more acutely—everything, every small fucking thing, overstimulated you—and your dick… it fucking ached with how hard it was.

This new world you were in? It was fucking Omegaverse. And guess what? You, Yuu, were an Alpha. One with the nastiest ruts know to man.

Your family were surprised when they found out and of course (and bless their hearts) had no real skills to help you because, apparently, they were all betas. Something that you—or the you you were before this new you incarnated into his body—already knew.

You went into rut without warning and, surprise! You are the first alpha in a family of betas in over twelve generations. Whoop-di-do, whoop-di-da. Your teeth grind angrily against each other as you remember your diagnosis, how shocked everyone was and the long acclimation period you had to go through before things could return to a sense of normalcy.

This was supposed to be easy sailing for you! What the fuck????!

This is your life now, apparently, and it's only gonna get more complicated from here on out. Funny how learning that magic was real was easier to digest than learning alpha, beta, and omegaverse dynamics were. Even as years when by and you had ample time to get used to your predicament you still find yourself struggling with the whole being an alpha thing.

Only silver lining is that you don't have to dorm with anyone else at this cushy magic school you got accepted into—though, the dorm you were sorted into is a total fucking dump with no other students, save for yourself and Grim. With a ghost infestation as well, mind you. Though, the ghosts are cool and really nice ignoring the pranks they occasionally pull, all things considered. But still, the building doesn't even have dorm fairies to regulate the air conditioning, it's a dump.

You plant your face into your pillow, the scent of clean linen and musty books overwhelms you blocking out the combined smells of everything and everyone else in the old estate, it's scent grounds you.

"Henchperson! How long are ya gonna lay about! The mighty Grim hungers!" Yowls your lifelong friend, companion, and familiar, Grim.

You blearily look over to the direbeast, your head turning in his direction right as his paw comes down to smack you angrily. It baps you right on the nose.

"It's Friday night and I don' got any homework and we got food in the dorm's kitchen. I don't need to get up for nothin'." You say with a yawn.

"But I can't cook any of that on my own! I got tiny baby paws!!"

You yawn again. "Ask the ghosts to help ya. They can cook all kinds of shit."

Not hyperbole. The three ghost they live with have vast amounts of cooking knowledge in their three separate minds and each of them are more than willing to put said knowledge to use. All you gotta do is ask.

But Grim, Great Seven above as below give you strength, is spoiled wholly and utterly rotten. He won't eat anything that he doesn't want in the moment and right now he wants canned tuna. Not tuna casserole or tuna sandwiches but plain ol' tuna from a can.

"But I du'wanna eat any of their slop! I want tuna!" The beast petulantly stomps his little feet on the bed. It's more adorable than it has any right to be.

"S'not slop. But ok," you say, uprighting yourself. "I'll go and get you some tuna—but only because I need to go buy more scent blockers and suppressants at Sam's to begin with. Mine's about to run out."

What you said last must've just went in through one ear and out the other because all Grim talks and dances about is how he's getting his coveted tuna cans soon. Figures. Single track minded, your Grim.

You sigh as you haul yourself to your feet and peel aside your used scent blockers in favor of your newer, and last pair, of patches, placing them over your scent glands. These barely do anything to fully mask the full brunt of your pheromones but it's better that raw dogging your classes and day-to-day without them. You still remember the last time you thought you could forego a pair…

Spelldrive. A sport that requires not only magical excellence but also on the spot spontaneity, agility, and immense flexibility. In spite of that, you'd think that a sport that mainly required you to magically levitate and spin a discus in place before shooting it into a goalpost would be rather simple, tedious even.

You'd be wrong. There's more to it than that because of course there is. (Read the quick descriptor of the sport above.) But if you absolutely had to say anything about the sport, compare it to anything you're familiar with from back in your world… you'd compare it to American Football or Soccer… it's kind of like both. But with magic involved. Or Quidditch from Harry Potter as it also requires a broom to fly. But more realistic, no golden snitches, and less boring. Heavy on the realistic.

Turns out, you could quite possible dislocate your arm if you try to catch a speeding discus mid-flight if you lack the arm strength and even then that could still happen if the person who launched the discus put too much power into their shot. Then there was the fact that people could, can, and will attempt to snipe each other with magic during practice matches. All of which you need to be mindful of and attempt to avoid lest you be sent to the nurses office. The sport required much more than you were expecting.

Today you, along with all the others on the team, had just gotten done getting whipped into shape by the team's captain, Leona Kingscholar. He had worked you like a slave with his drills, exercises, and general strength training from after school to sundown. He says it's because he sees, quote unquote, potential in all of you but you think it's because he gets off on your combined suffering.

He especially likes to pick on you—because he sees the most potential in you and your deflection tactics, so the lion says. He occasionally throws a spell or two at you when your aren't paying attention just to see your skills in action. You always manage to block and deflect the spells with some small effort but still, the principle of it (that being that the fool always attacked you while your back is turned) still stands.

And on TOP of that when he isn't "testing" you he just watches you, sitting lazily on his broom?! He only interacts with you and the others when he's calling out your mistakes and offering criticisms. It's kinda grating to your nerves. Especially when people start intentionally putting too much power into their shots or throwing spells to obfuscate the practice matches. Isn't he supposed to be supervising against shit like that? What an ass!

And so what if his criticisms are almost always valid, he actually help you refine your techniques? He's a slave-driver and he's annoying as all hell plus lazy—!

You suck in a sharp breath and hiss out a long-suffering sigh as you tug your sweat soaked gym shirt over your shoulders an toss it into your duffel bag. Your agitation is rolling off you in waves. You need to calm down, really, it isn't even that bad. But still, you just don't like the guy. Everything he does makes you mad.

A dirty blond haired man covers his nose. "Ugh, he's doin' it again."

"Doesn't this guy know what blockers are?? This is the third time this week…" says his friend.

The two boys fled out of the room complaining and no sooner after them many other men decided to file out behind them leaving only a handful of men behind. You watch them in disinterest and continue to undress. All of them are alphas themselves. All of which have at some point proclaimed to be the manliest man on numerous occasions (real jock type shit).

But, apparently, you're too much alpha for even them to handle. Especially if only a little bit of your pheromones are enough to scare them off. Pussies, all of 'em. Funny thing is that it's not like you're doing this whole thing on purpose or anything either, you just don't have any more blockers on hand.

"Yo, Yuu."

Shit. You turn your head to the owner of the baritone voice, the owner being one Leona Kingscholar. Figures the moment you step out of line he would be on your ass. Sadly a common occurrence for you.

He stands shirtless before you, his towel slung over his shoulder. His raw umber skin glistens with sweat under the fluorescent light of the locker room; the sweat sticking to hair on his chest and stomach catching the light especially nice, in your opinion.

Why? You have no idea. You didn't see him do much of anything all throughout the practice and the weather was fair all day so he couldn't have worked too much of a sweat. So, in your humble opinion, he doesn't really have any reason or right to be as sweaty as he is.

(You also didn't pay him much attention all throughout the practice period either. As long as he wasn't bugging you he was kinda invisible to you so who knows what he actually did.)

"Yes, cap'n?" You respond not really wanting to but doing so out of obligation and self preservation. Flat out disrespect to a upperclassmen is almost lethal in pompous magic academies like Night Raven and you choose life thank you very much.

He glowers down at you an unimpressed expression on his face. "You're stinkin' up the entire locker room with your pheromones, frosh. Reign it in or change in your own dorm from now on, this ain't your personal changin' room to stink up. This is the last time I'm gonna warn ya about that."

Really. Could that guy have gotten any more annoying? You had already told him that you can't really control the amount of pheromones you secrete—s'not your fault that the other guys couldn't handle it!

Ok, it is, and you know it is. There are better brands of blockers to choose from and you know it. You get the shitty ones cuz they're cheap and almost always in stock even though you sweat though them fast and often. Also, you're not about to blow your hard earned money and your bi-weekly allowance from your parents on the good stuff—those are expensive as shit.

However, you find yourself caring very little about your own personal fault in this. In fact, you think you are going to double down on how innocent you are here (though you know that you aren't). You are hot and bothered and not in the fun way and Leona badgering you for what feels like the twentieth time this week is only making things worse.

Your pinched smile meets Leona's flat, unamused, expression. With only some of the edge you were feeling at the moment audible in your voice, you say, "Sorry 'bout that—didn't mean to scare off the boy. My scent blockers don't last long on me and I thought I could get by just long enough to get back to my dorm. Seems like I failed though so might need to switch a new brand?"

He steps closer to you, now in your space almost chest to chest—or in this case his chest to your nose, he's quite a bit taller than you—towering over you, actually. His own scent, sandalwood, dry earth, and the slight tinge of citrus, fills the air in a subtle, but direct, warning. Calm down or else, his say.

You feel your emotions well up inside of you at this—your agitation making itself know in your scent. Hastily you slap your hand over your scent glands in an attempt to stop the scent of your feelings from bleeding out into the air, to your immense and mortifying failure. Your own pheromones billow forth in spite of your attempts to smoother them, they respond in kind to the beastmen's laying your honest feelings out on full display. Fuck off and mind your own seven-damned business, yours responds back.

The man's expression dips into something unreadable and his ears flatten to the side of his head. His posture doesn't change nor does the way he's currently holding himself but the smaller more subtle signs are there…. his scent dissipates as yours overtake his. You notice it, Vice-Captain Bucchi notices it, and so does that Pomefiore kid who seems to stick to you and the other two like glue. You think you may have accidentally challenged and dominated his scent and, by extension, his rule as leader for a moment there with your excessive amount of pheromones. Holy shit. Go you!

Uh…? Wait no, that's bad. Not good. Not good at all. Challenging a fellow alpha like that? A beastman one at that! Nope, nuh-uh, you do not want those problems. He can crack you in half like a kit-kat bar with little effort and his magic strength is twice as strong as yours so a magic fight is also off the table too (for now).

You take a step back and hastily head to the showers, though not before yelling over your shoulder, "Good talk there , cap'n! Catch ya later?"

You dip out of there before you have any chance to gauge the man's reaction.

And that was only a week ago.

You shudder as you relive the last parts of that memory. What the hell even was that? The last bit, you mean. It wouldn't have be the first or last time Leona's gotten on your case for makin' the other guy's uncomfortable with your uncontrollable pheromones—which, yeah, dick move on your part for not taking the necessary precautions and being a cheap bitch. And for doubling down and not owning up to your mess… really that was an dick move.

However! Biologically speaking, you can't really control it all that well by nature and it only gets worse as your rut grows closer, but, you can minimize. Something you didn't do because money is tight. Again. Dick move. Also a piss-poor excuse. But this is the first time he's stepped up to you and tried to cow you into submission with his own pheromones, not that it worked. A minus for effort. But still it rubs you the wrong way…

But still, once is enough for that kind of thing. You are done with the little back and forth between the two of you—and everyone else, for that matter. You're finally of mind to splurge on some premium sent blockers and some higher quality tranquilizers for your upcoming rut.

You walk into Sam's general store with a single mission on your mind: find and buy the shit you need. (Plus Grim's tuna)

"Sam, yo." You say with a wave.

"Little imp! Nice to see ya on this fine evening. Though it is strange seeing you here and on a Friday night no less. The weekly store sale doesn't start until Saturday afternoon." The shopkeeper says, he gives a two finger salute in return.

"I know, I just have a little emergency errand to go on. I'm out of blockers and I need to get more." You say, walking up to the man. Then you nonchalantly add, "Grim also wants tuna, so there's that."

Sam nods, a hand under his chin. "Little Grimmy givin' ya hell over his diet again? You'd think havin' three world class chefs under your roof would dissuade him from going for the cheap stuff."

You half scoff half laugh. "Yeah. You'd think."

"In any case, you should already know where both the scent patches and the tuna cans are. So there there's no need for me to show you which way, no?"

You shake your head and walk away with a wave goodbye to the man. You memorized the internal layout of Sam's place ages ago and you don't mean to brag (except you do), but, you know these aisle and their each and every product placement like the back of your hand.

Though, funnily enough, the layout seems to shift and change ever-so-slightly every few weeks or so in a similar vein to Heartslabyul House. Thing is, here at Sam's, the changes are temporary which makes things only half as disorienting as Heartslabyul.

You saunter through aisle and aisle of goods, your hands idly tapping, dragging, and poking the stocked shelves as you walk. You happen upon Grim's preferred brand of tuna immediately after a few minutes of idle wandering and toss a few cans into your basket.

"Grim's taken care of now it's time for me… But do I really wanna down a whole bankroll here today?" You muse aloud.

Your hesitation is short lived as you find the brand of scent blockers not too soon after Grim's tuna, you having wandered into the health aisle by accident. That isn't supposed to be by the dry food aisle, you mentally note.

You then toss that mental note into the trash when you then re-remember that the store is semi-alive. Your shrug and just roll with it, moving to grab the blockers you need.

"Aw—what? Only one left? Damn…" you mutter, your hand still reaching out.

Just as you grab the box, in a cliche rom-com-esque gag, another touches the box just as yours did. Your fingers brushing against theirs.

You are… admittedly, more than a little startled. You snatch your hand back as if burned and whirl around in the direction of the ninja who somehow snuck up on you without you noticing. You're both surprised and confused at what, who, you see. Standing right beside you dressed in black school pride sweat pants and a white wife beater was, drumroll please, Leona.

The lion beastman stares at you, an unimpressed expression on his face. You in turn level him an unamused expression of your own. There are some choice words you'd like to share with him… but you don't want to piss off one of Night Ravens four D-1 crashouts over getting spooked in the patch aisle so you swallow down your words. You chew on them until something much more friendlier and palatable could be said.

"Cap'n, nice seein' ya these neck of the woods! And here of all places—I thought Ruggie usually took care of errands like these for ya?" You say, making semi-friendly conversation.

He blinks at you slowly, his mouth chewing on his next words as if picking them out carefully. After a moment of him just staring at you all weird like—which was making you hella uncomfortable—he finally speaks.

"True enough on the second part, but this is something I'd rather handle myself. I came to get some blockers. Mine ran out." He says, plainly.

"Same. The ones I was using dried up a few hours after today's practice, which was just my luck." You say, sheepish as you rubbed the back of your neck. Is it hot in here? You're sweating…

The beastman opens his mouth to respond but stops short of doing so as if the words crumbled before they could even leave his mouth. Instead he sniffs the air for a moment. He sniffs and after a nosing around in a few directions his eyes land on you, as they did he closes the small distance between the two of you, leans in close—his nose almost directly above your scent glands, and sniffs you closely. You hope this isn't leading to what you think it is… but even if it is….

You poke him in the forehead and gently push him well away with your two fingers. "Personal space, Kingscholar."

"You smell—" he starts, straightening up to his normal height.

"—Bad? I know. You don't gotta rub it in, I'm trying—"

"—Don't put words in my mouth, frosh. Ain't nothing about your scent repulsive to me." Leona cuts in, his tone almost biting.

You have to take a moment to stop and think about those words. He… doesn't think that you smell like shit?

You blink at him twice, perplexed. "Excuse me?"

"Ya ain't deaf. I said I don't think your scent smells bad." He reiterates, arms folding over his chest, his tail lashing in annoyance.

"But you get into my case all the time cuz of it?"

He growls a little bit, annoyed at your comment. You take the hint to back off that topic a bit and put your hands up in surrender, as stated earlier, you really don't wanna piss him off over small beans.

"I may like your stink, but the other guys?" He scoffs. "Be realistic, frosh. Another alpha's scent, especially once as poignant and loud as yours, is a threat. Fucks with their heads that a guy with pheromones like yours even exists and squashes their egos. Common courtesy would be to cover that shit up so you aren't making the people around you uncomfortable—you especially cover up around omegas with higher susceptibility to alpha pheromones, mainly for your own safety."

You nod dumbly, two thoughts are flying through your mind. One, you've heard horror story's about omegas fighting over a particularly desirable alpha, those were a bloodbaths. So you've heard. Not something to glorify… but still… kind of hot though… Hmm…

You think you're about to say really, really, something stupid.

"What if I want to be the center of someone else's attention? Then what?" You say, stupidly, like the stupid fuck that you are.

Ah, there it is. Complete foot in mouth right there. Your mouth moved before your brain could interject and, as a result, you said something so utterly stupid (which you now immediately regret) that the lion beastmen standing before you fixed you with a nasty glare, something dark taking roost in his eyes as they narrowed.

"You trying to die a warrior's death, dumbass? They'll tear each other to shreds trying to get to you and you will be caught in the crossfire." He hissed at you, matter of fact.

Right, yeah, your bad. Moving on to point two before you can say or think anything else stupid: he likes—honest to god, likes—your scent. You can't even begin process that. He is an alpha, right?

Alpha x Alpha relationships don't tend to happen often in nature or end very well—ruts between alphas tending to be on the more violent end of the spectrum and the general consensus of all alphas being a bit more constitutionally frail compared to an healthy adult omega—so this is… a rather unusual development.

You tug at your collar, your fingers unconsciously tugging at the patches on your scent glands. "You…" you clear your throat. "You like alpha stink? Wow, talk about being on the weirder end of the fetish spectrum. No other alpha likes to be in the presence of another alpha's musk, my guy."

He answers you. Not verbally, but by again closing the distance between you two, his chest to your face. You take a precautionary step back because what the fuck is even happening right now? But he follows you and backs you into a aisle, his arm slapping the shelf behind you pinning you into place and blocking off an escape route.

"Yeah, I do. Got a problem with that, frosh?" He says, staring down at your trapped figure, a cocky smirk on his handsome face.

You find it hard to respond while essentially being a mouse trapped in a cage with a lion—the cage in question being said lion's stupidly impressive tits, but, nonetheless you resolve yourself to speak. "Not really, no. Go you for having such discerning tastes. But, me?"

"Yeah, you. Takes a special kind of person to take down four overblots in a half a school year almost entirely by themselves, myself included. So color me intrigued by you." He leans down and sniffs you, his nose ghosting over your neck. You shiver as his warm breath drifts over your scent glands.

Your body reacts the effects of his sudden proximity before your mind even registers it, your dick suddenly straining against the confines of your pants. An low, strained, moan leaves your mouth.

He's putting the moves on you—and you don't know why. But, fuck, if you said that you weren't at all into it that'd be a flat out lie. However, it's Leona who's putting you through the wringer here and that alone is a point of contention for you. He's been nothing if not an absolute ass to you for the latter part of the year, your brief stint in his dorm room also withstanding, and he picks on you each chance he gets.

Y'know what? Fine. If this is the game he's gonna play—that he wants to play, getting you all riled up for nothing, then, you are not letting things happen so easily. You can play this game to, contrary to what everyone else says about you, you've had more than your fair share of success in dating over the years—never with a fellow alpha, but with every other secondary gender? Absolutely. And the art of flirting? Second nature to a person like you. You're going to make this beastman so uncomfortable that he'll never try this shit again.

Your expression dips into something sultry, confident, and you pull him down by the collar of his wife beater, stretching the neck, to your level, to the lion's shock. A salacious smile dances it's way across your lips as you say, "You're always on my case, Le-o-na~ So why the sudden change? Hmm? Am I that enticing to you?"

He's dumbfounded by your sudden shift, the expression on his face says as much as his brown cheeks brighten with a sudden flush of red. His mouth pulls up somewhere between a snarl and a grimace as his sharp canines become just barely visible in the dim florescent light of the shop. Two entirely different responses to your question. You note how he doesn't try to jerk away from you.

"I…" he starts, eyes notably trained away from you, tail swinging side to side.

"Yoooou, what? C'mon do I hafta coach ya though it? You, what?"

He softly hisses to no one in particular and begins to pull away. "I don't need to answer to ya. Just know that I'm interested. That's all."

"Nuh uh, we ain't stopping here, Leona. Not now. You made SUCH a big show of yourself earlier, pinnin' me against the wall, pullin' me in close and sniffing me up like I'm some needy omega begging for a alpha to dick me down, we can't just stop now. We're doing this all the way." You hiss back at him, pressing your body against his.

To no one's particular shock, you feel the hardness of his own dick through his sweat pants as your stomach presses against it. You smirk and begin grinding your torso into his, you internally revel in victory as you begin to catch small wisps of his own arousal begin to dust the air. His scent silently screaming his growing sexual desire for anyone close enough to catch a whiff of it. Your own begins to bleed through your patches, coating the air in greater measure. Your feelings also on clear display.

(This part isn't intended, but how can you not get turned on when an opponent objectively attractive specimen stands squirming before you?)

Silently in the back of your mind you're thankful for the lack of other customers in the area, it would be mortifying for anyone—especially people you know—to catch a whiff of your own blaring arousal in public.

Your eyes meet his emerald colored ones, his eyes dilated to the point of only being ringed in their normal shade of emerald green. Subtly, you grind your stomach against his now fully erect dick, the lion beastman groaning into his hand.

"We can take this back to my place, there you can have all of me, if you want. The full brunt of my pheromones, all. For. You~ What do you say, Le-o-na~?" You offer looking up at him, your chin nestled between his pectorals.

You're laying it on thick and you know you are, overplaying the charm factor to get a rise out of him. If he's smart. which you know he is, he'll tell you where to shove it and leave having seen this ploy for what it was, leaving things back in the old status quo and you to go about your evening in peace.

Or, he's actually serious about this, you get a new rutting partner. You are due to start going through it in earnest sometime tomorrow or later tonight and Leona's a tough, willing, cookie. You're sure he can handle what you could put down.

To your internal surprise, Leona is serious about this. He nods jerkily, those fully dilated pupils trained onto you the entire time.

Shit.

Well, anyway. You separate yourself from him and snatch the last box of scent blockers off the shelf, tossing them into your waiting basket, then begin walking away. Leona is still reeling from his altercation with you, standing stark still in the middle of the aisle with a hundred yard stare on his face and a visible erection print on his sweat pants. You snicker.

"Swing by my place later tonight if you're actually serious, I'll be waiting." You say over your shoulder with a goodbye wave.

You don't linger to gauge his reaction or hear his response. After all, Grim really needed these tuna cans ages ago and you lingering here to mingle is an affront to the little man. The twelve plus missed calls from him says as much.

So, this is actually happening? Huh? Leona-fucking-Kingscholar, a total hunk and a half (right up there next to THE Vil Schoenheit), is coming over to hook up with you. Normal people would be elated to get a chance with him, but you? Yourself? While you kind of are excited (now that you're actually thinking about it), you also kind of despise the guy on some level.

He's arrogant, pompous, and kind of a dick. Sure he has his good moments but his bad ones kind of outweigh the good by tons. How Jack puts up with him, you'll never know. You may have bitten off more than you can chew here.

You sigh and flop backwards, your back sinking deeper into the old plush couch cushion you were sitting on. "Me and my big mouth. I can't slink my way out of this one can I?"

"I dunno whatcha talkin' about, henchman. But I'm gonna assume that your boned. Well, if it comes down to it i, The Magnificent Great Grim, will save you!" Grim unhelpfully chimed between bites of his coveted tuna bowl.

"I wasn't talkin' to ya, furball." You sigh and hop to your feet, scooping up both the now agitated Grim and his tuna bowl. "Besides, I need ya gone for the night."

Grim balks and whips his head in your direction m. "What? Why do I gotta leave? I live here?!"

How do you say to your kid that your about to get fucked crazy style by an upperclassmen without saying your about to get fucked crazy style by an upperclassmen to your kid? Uh? Lie? You dunno.

"I'm about to have some important (kinda) company come over tonight and I need you out of sight and mind while they're here. You'll be staying with Ace and Deuce tonight." You explain.

"Aw what—?! Nooooooo! I d'wanna stay with them! Ace is so annoying and Deuce has started to smell like wet dog all the time ever since you and Jack took down Azul! It's awful!" The direbeast complains.

"Sorry but my word is final. I'll come pick you up in the morning… Maybe? If not, the adeuce duo will bring you back."

Grim huffs at you and pouts, folding his little arms together. It's adorable and almost makes you feel bad, almost. Under normal circumstances you would just let him bunk in one of the other rooms that the Ramshackle Estate had to offer and not have to go, but of all the rooms that it did have open, only yours was livable at the moment and spider free.

That and the fact that you and Grim are master and familiar. You two sport a soul tether to one another and it basically makes it so you two are somewhat linked both mentally and emotionally all the time. Within a certain distance, of course. That last bit should be self explanatory. So, safe to say, you need him gone for the night.

A quick teleportation spell into Ace and Deuce's room dorm room (where's Deuce?) then back to Ramshackle and now you're all set.

You hobble up to your room to make preparations and check to see if you have anything you might need.

"Lube, condoms, poppers… porn mags… Tranquilizers." You list off.

You nod in satisfaction at what you had. Seeing that you're well stocked and fully prepared you nod to yourself then head back downstairs and flop back down onto y the couch.

The scent blockers on your neck come off with two swift waves of your hands and your pheromones billow forth, the entirely of the room immediately coated in your scent. Then you shoot the lion a text.

Less than twenty minutes later he's at your door, his outfit the same as it was earlier—save for the shoes, which are now sandals. You let him in with little fanfare and lead him up to your room. Once you got him inside, you lock the door.

All to quickly he's upon you. He practically backs you into the bed until you trip over your feet and fall back first onto it. His nose was on your scent glands and his hands roamed your torso fervently, huffing your pheromones like a bitch in heat all the while. He was grinding his hard erection into you like one as well.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, frosh." He starts, his voice thick and heavy with lust. "Since the moment your scent hit me awhile back… I've been left wanting, like a lioness in heat bereft of any suitable mates… Shameful for a lion like myself, a sevens dammed alpha to boot, to be reduced to such a state."

He's now straddling you, grinding his ass into your crotch as he noses over the crook of your neck, drunk on your scent. You can't believe what you're experiencing—the man, who seemed to always carry himself a step above it all, was down here with you. Completely at the mercy of his own instincts.

He's a real sight for sore eyes, that Leona Kingscholar. But what you think would look even better? Seeing the man between your legs lapping at your sweaty balls.

"It's stronger down there, y'know." You say, your hands already moving to undo your belt buckle.

You free your aching erection from your pants, your dick slapping against the back of Leona's ass. You somewhat grimace as the full foul stench of both your pheromones and musk hits your keen nose. Inwardly you curse the poor air conditioning that the ramshackle building had, because in spite of having showered before hand it took you little. to no time at all to get back into such a miserable state.

It does bother you, your body being kind of gross due to the heat and in front of royalty no less, but not by much as the weight of your desire far outweighs your embarrassment.

But your companion? He doesn't seem to give a damn about how you smell, in fact, he looks elated. Leona slips off of overtop of you and sank to his knees between your legs.

"Mmm, shit. You're right, it is stronger down here. Did ya get it all ripe just for me? Ya shouldn't have." He cooed.

Leona shamelessly plants his nose into your balls and sniffs them, drunk on the smell of your sweat and pheromones coming together coating your dick into something the man would probably considers delightful. Strange tastes, that one. You, however, are no one to judge.

Leona then drags his rough, cat-like, tongue up your taint, balls, then up to the tip of your shaft. You shiver at the feeling.

"Smells sour as hell and tastes salty too—fuck! I'd be dripping slick right now if I was an omega." He says, breathless and eyes clouded. Then his eyes sharpen. "Tell ya what. I want you to fuck me outta my braids—mark me with your pheromones to the point I smell more like you rather than myself. Bitch me the fuck out until my hole remembers the shape of your knot. Make an omega outta me—just for tonight."

Well damn. How can you say no an offer like that? And, just for the record, just because you're about to have nasty sex with the guy doesn't mean that you suddenly like him or some shit. Hate sex is a thing!

"Sure, I'm more than willing to turn ya out. But you gotta do something for me first. Y'see, " you slap you cock against the beastman's cheek a few times, a heated smile on your face, "it's always been a fantasy of mine to get sucked off by you. Spent many a night tuggin' one to the thought of that foul mouth of yours finally getting shut up. By my dick, of course."

Not a lie. You don't have enough fingers or toes to count the number of times you've cranked one out to the fantasy of silencing the man by shoving the full length of your dick down his throat.

"Do me a favor and make my fantasy a reality. Yeah, Leona?" You breath, leaning back.

"Pfft. You're a simple man, y'know that, Yuu? Seriously, you have prince down on his knees for you and that's all your puny brain could come up with in the dead of night? You wouldn't even begin to comprehend what I've thought about you."

What?

"Fine, I'll give ya what you're asking for—but don't blame me if I accidentally nick ya in the process. I'm outta practice being on the givin' end of this shit." He flashes you a bright, sharp toothed, smile before he got to work.

And, oh fuck, this beastman, this mother fucking lion, he's obscenely good at giving head. So good in fact that you question what his sex life prior to you was like for him to be able to put it down on you like this. Leona started from the bottom up, first suckling at your balls while pumping your cock with his hand before dragging his rough tongue up your shaft—the feeling's indescribable. And when he got to the top, he popped your glands in his mouth and, he went to fucking town.

"You're a pro at suckin' dick, cap'n. You done this before?" You say, breathlessly.

He grunts and stops throating your cock. To your displeasure. But you guess he can't exactly respond if he has a mouthful of you in his mouth (heh).

"Yeah, I get play." He smirks and kissed the side of your cock. "Ya don't seriously think I'm some lame ass virgin right?"

"I just kinda assumed that having sex outta wedlock was a taboo for royals. Y'know?"

He scoffs at you then says, "Yeah, it is—but only it that hook up ends with an illegitimate child. And besides, a royal's chastity is only valued if they just so happen to be an omega. The "illusion" of being chosen and desired by an omega of greater status enough to be the one to pop their "hypothetical" cherry is a hot commodity amongst blue bloods. But a virginal alpha? An inexperienced alpha is desired by no one."

Fair enough.

"Besides, you're enjoying yourself, ain't'cha? So there isn't any complaints on your end, are there?" He adds, cockily.

"No sir, no complaints here, cap'n! You're not getting any complaints outta me while givin' head like that." You enthusiastically replied to the beastman.

Leona chuckles and pops your cock back into his mouth, his tongue again licking circles around your glands. You lean back and let him work, the temptation of laying a hand on the back of his head and guiding his movements is strong. But you self preservation is stronger; you don't think Leona would take to kindly to getting his head shoved down on your dick. You know you wouldn't.

But still, this man is driving you crazy—your body feels all out of sorts in a way that almost dizzies you. And your dick, it hurts with how hard it's getting to the point you're running the risk of knotting the lion beastmen's face and choking him on your precum. Then it dawns on you.

Your rut should be starting soon… An evil part of your brain wants to let instinct take over and use the lion beastman as your personal fuck toy until the heat burning you from the inside out cools. But the larger, more rational, part of your brain wants to be open and communicate the dangers of your oncoming rut before things can further escalate. Shit, maybe even throw on a condom before things even progress that far.

You don't like the man, but you do (begrudgingly) respect him enough to not take advantage of him even as you rapidly approach delirium.

You grab at his head and gently pull him off. He doesn't look to happy as he glared up at you and, shit, you aren't too happy about this either, but some things need to be said before either of you can continue. If you continue after you air your concerns.

"Leona, I'm gonna be so honest right now, i think I'm about to enter rut and I can't really control myself all that well while I'm rutting. So if you wanna ditch, that's fine by me. No hard feelings." You say, honestly.

You fully expect this little fling to end right here, right now after you said those words. Alphas don't put out for other alphas all that often—and helping another through their rut? Out of the question. It would only be fair if he left and you wouldn't be too upset by that fact.

But again you are completely surprised by Leona tonight.

"You need a hole to fuck into? Fine. I'm game." Leona says, casually.

He grabs at the bottom hemline of his wife beater pulling it off of himself in one swift motion and you will admit that you were fully mesmerized by the way his pectorals jiggled as they flopped out of his shirt. Then he stands up and removes his joggers and underwear with the same amount of fanfare—which was none—and kicks them to the side. He now stands naked before you and

"Hot damn." You say, eyes blown wide.

You've seen him naked a few times already, locker rooms and all, so this shouldn't be anything new to you. It isn't, in all honesty, but… this is a whole new light you're seeing him in. That and this is the first time you've seen him at full mast. His dick is a fucking amazing sight to behold. First it's a bit longer than yours and second it's uncut. That fact alone makes you lick your lips and your own dick twitch with eagerness.

The way you would've inhaled that cock into the back your throat if you were receiving—! Shame that you aren't tonight and have no plans to. Or for him. But still you shelve that thought for later. Maybe that sentiment will change in the future?

"Get up." He commands, his voice in that same tone he uses when issuing commands during practice.

You're movements are automatic once you heard it and you are on your feet before you have time to think. If not for the setting you might've even went all "Yes, Cap'n!" on him too.

Once you were up on your feet he was down on the bed where you were once laying, his body angled down in a downward dog position with his tail up in the air. You gulp in an attempt to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth.

"Sex between alphas is a tricky thing, frosh. We aren't really built for reviving dick, y'know? So if ya want to plow me you're gonna hafta work me open first." He waves his ass (and there's a lot of it) in your face his tail swishing in the air with his movements, your eyes follows it unconsciously. "I know, this is prolly the best ass you've ever seen, but we ain't got all night to just be staring. Get to work, herbivore."

Who's he to order you around? You're the one about to rock his world, but no matter. He doesn't need to tell you twice to eat ass. You lick your lips and descend upon him.

It's a messy affair, you eating him out. Your tongue flicked at his entrance then circled around the puckered muscle of his asshole, ravishing his entrance with your mouth like a seasoned pro which you are. You take in the scent of his pheromones and musk alike as you feasted, his scent screaming: fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, over and over into your hyper sensitive senses.

It was like a drug shot directly into your bloodstream, it makes you almost lose yourself in his ass. Almost, but your self control was tight and your grip on sanity even tighter. You still had some semblance of reason in that head of your and you planed on using it.

As you ate him out, your left hand gently caressed the base of his tail with feather-light movements while your right jerked him off.

That was what your small sliver of reason was being used on.

The lion beastmen came undone in your grasp in seconds, the earlier commanding attitude and confidence things of the past as the man became putty in your hands to play with as you saw fit. His hoarse groans and hitched breaths music to your ears. It stroked a fire within you to dominate a man like him, to render him to such a state. A babbling bitch in heat.

You inner alpha growls approvingly at the sight.

"You like that, cap'n?" You rumble into the beastman's rear.

"Fuck—fuck!"

A quick hand comes down to swiftly smack the supple ass before you eliciting a strangled yelp from the man. It takes a second to realize that the hand was your own.

"Does it feel good? Cap'n~?" you purred, your hand massaging the cheek that you struck before dropping another love tap.

"Yes—King of Beasts—yes. And don't you dare stop—!" He honest to seven begged. Tonight just kept getting better and better for you.

You chuckle and resumed your work lapping at his hole. Soon it was nothing if not a quivering mess covered in the slick of your saliva and with a quick finger test (Leona whimpered as you felt around inside of him) you concluded that, yeah, he could handle what you're putting down now.

You rise up from your kneeling position and—oh fuck—mount the bigger man. You spread his ass cheeks and press the head of your cock against his loosened hole. You heart hammers in your chest and you feel your breathing become ragged—you (yes, you) are about to plow Leona Kingscholar: one of NRC's most desirable bachelors.

A rush of euphoric laughter bubbles out of you. You've already fantasized about putting this spiteful bastard in his place and now you're about to make that fantasy a reality—life is good.

"Lemme know if I'm hurtin' ya, cap'n. I'll try to go slowly. Like yeah, I know your bigger and tougher than me but I'm not slacking in the girth department. This will hurt a little." You say, automatically.

Leona scoffs and levels a flat glare at you. "This ain't my first rodeo taking dick and I've most certainly takin' bigger than you. Stop bitchin' about hurtin' me and put the hurt on me already. I like it rough."

"Don't come cryin' to me that your royal ass is sore in the morning, alright Le-o-na~?" You respond, snark evident in your voice.

He chuckles sarcastically. "Funny.Now quit stallin' and give it to me already."

The beastman smacks his ass, looks back you, then flashes you a debonair smirk, cockiness and bold confidence ever present in his features in spite of being the one with his ass up in the air. You think you might be blushing.

"C'mon, herbivore." He taunts.

If you had to describe your sanity right then—the sheer strength of will that you had wielded in that moment as to not ravish the man laying before you then and there… you would've likened it to a rubber band stretched taught to the absolute limit. It was barely hanging on as is, but after Leona stupidly taunted you…? It snapped.

"No pain, no gain, then."

You grab Leona's waist, align your dick with his hole, briefly consider popping on a condom before immediately perishing the thought, and then you thrust. Your hips slowly met his ass, you cock burying itself deeper and deeper into the warmth of his ass splitting him open with some obstacle until your half realized knot was only a few inches away from the puckered muscle of the lion's asshole.

He's tight. Much more than you were expecting him to be. Him having told you he had slept with other alphas before—bottomed for other alphas before—gave you ideas. Of which almost all of them have been proven false. Not that you're complaining! Not at all!

The man's anal cavity grips you like a vice. It's hard to move and with every inch you gain the lion's walls clamp down on you as if unwilling to let you leave. You love it. You love it when your men have some fight in them, when their bodies won't so easily submit to being on the receiving end of some dick—it makes it all the more satisfying when you fuck them into cock-drunk stupors.

Leona's back arches beautifully as he shivers in delight. The man grips at your sheets like a lifeline as a low, pleasured, exhale of breath leaves his mouth.

"Shiiiiit… ! So you're a alpha after all? I was starting to have doubts. Most alphas immediately jump at the chance to plow me the moment my pants are off. Feeds into their superiority complexes." He breathed.

"Well, they lack self control. Something i have in spades." You say, cockily.

He rolls his eyes at you with a huff. No sooner, his tail curls around your waist locking you in place and his ass rocks back into your hips, your cock pressing deeper into him. You steady yourself by griping onto the lion's waist—unconsciously pulling him closer to you—as you felt your half-realized knot finally physically press up against his entrance.

"Yeah, cool. Stop taking. Fuck me." He commanded, short, sweet, and to the point. He offers you little else as he turns away, waiting for your next move.

"Talk is cheap anyway." You huff.

You take a breath and start moving, your hips pulling back and then forward in a forgiving, moderate, pace to start. You don't like him, you've said as much already but you aren't willing to hurt him even if by accident.

You take in the smooth feeling of velvet that was his anal walls, it felt like nothing else you've ever felt before. Strange, considering your body count. What makes Leona so different compared to the other men and women you've fucked?

A number of things, really. Maybe because you have a preference for muscular men? Men with decent body hair? Handsome men who carry a devil may care air about them? Men who can especially take dick like champs? All of of which are categories that Leona cleanly slots into. Maybe it's that?

"Oh, fuck."

"Huh? Whatcha bitchin' about now? Am I too tight for ya?"

You ignore him and allow your thrusts become faster, not quite at a decimating pace, yet, but close as it dawns on you. The heat of your belated revelation that, yes, Leona is in fact your ideal type, burns hot in your chest. It annoys you to no end and, quite frankly, pisses you off to some degree. Why, of all people, did fucking Leona have to check off all of your boxes? He's an ass! There has to be better options!

Whatever. Luckily for you, the man himself has offered his ass up as your personal fuck toy to ride your rut out with and you plan to take full advantage of that.

You shift and grab his arms, pulling them behind his back, and let loose. You thrusts quicken into break-neck speed, you dick plunging in and out of him with wild, reckless, abandon. You go so hard that you manage to pop your partially inflated knot past his hole, no doubt pressing into the small bundle of nerves that make up his prostate hard—to which Leona gasps and roars out a loud, resounding, "Fuck!" in response—and then right back out again with no slow between your thrusts.

You don't much care about his well being anymore—you're fucking for you and only you now, you inner alpha demands as much and being the good boy that you are you indulge it and let your mind become fuzzy at the edges.

And, yes, you know that you should care, that you shouldn't embrace the inner beast so easily without fight, you don't want to hurt him, you've already said as much (though he makes it easy to want to go back on that statement), but you're annoyed. Now that you've rubbed two brain cells together and became situationally aware, you can't help but want to be rough with him—to just let the heat burn you to the core all the way down to your base alpha instincts. So really, your fucking for you now.

Not that Leona minds this new development. He moans and groans beautifully as you tear into him, his ass rocking into your thrusts with perfect timing and speed and his pheromones filling the air in a thick, heady, scent of sandalwood and dry earth. His scent all and begging for you to continue on, just as you are. Most notable is that his tail hasn't unwrapped itself from around your waist, so the beastman has to be enjoying himself too if he isn't letting you go. Right?

"You're too good to me, cap'n. This ass is fucking king." You say, throwing your head back and running a hand through your sweat-slick hair.

Leona chuffs between his gasps of air and looks back to look at you, a heated, self-satisfied, smirk on his face. "King, eh? If that's the case this show this royal ass some top-tier fucking worthy of one, Yuu."

Your gonna show him some top-tier fucking and them some, mark your words. You release his arms, stop, and pull out. Leona, perplexed that you would stop, let's out a noise of confusion as he turns to look at you funny. You ignore him, he's about to be back in the thick of it soon enough. Your not done yet. Not by a long shot.

You flip the lion on tho his back with some effort, the man is bigger than you after all. In all aspects, you note. His biceps, pectorals, all of him. And because, again, you are face to face with the man's own dick. It lays almost fully erect against the beastman's stomach almost reaching up to Leona's belly button, his knot almost fully inflated.

You blink at the sight, not in jealousy, but in appreciation of the sight before you. You can always appreciate a good looking dick no matter who it's attacked too and Leona's is a damn good looking one.

Also, yours is thicker than his by miles. Ha! What a fucking pencil dick! Loser!

(You pointedly ignore the fact that Leona would fucking destroy you if he stuck his in. Not that you'd let him.)

"Whatcha looking at? Do I got ya mesmerized or what?" He joked, a smug smirk playing on his lips. Leona lifts his arms flexes his biceps and as he did he dexterously bounces his pectorals, making a show of his well developed and maintained body. "This is all yours tonight. So don't be shy, drink it in.". He sultrily added.

You shamelessly drink in what you see for all of ten seconds before you rolled your eyes, red-hot heat rising to your cheeks. "A little yeah. Shouldn't need me to tell ya what you already know cap'n."

You crawl on top of him then fold his legs up and over his shoulders, Leona responds by wrapping his arms around his legs, holding them down to maintain the position. An easy feat due to the beastman's remarkable and enviable flexibility. You align your dick with the tight ring of his asshole then slam back into him, full insertion. Partially inflated knot and all.

The lion throws his head back, tongue out. A aborted, broken, noise escapes him, a sound you think more befitting a cheap whore rather than a royal, and finally a thick spurt of cum splatters the man's stomach and chest—some even reaching the underside of his chin.

One thrust and already he's gone, fucking gold right there. "That all it took to do ya in? All I did was stick it in~"

"FUCK—fuck! Sh-shut up and fuck me, dammit!"

You grin hungrily and continue on just like that, your cock ramming into him, hitting the bundle of nerves that made up the prostate with maximum precision.

It's music to your ears, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the labored breaths shared between the two of you, and the foul language that slipped out of Leona's mouth. All in his mother tongue, mind you. You only catch some of the stream of expletives—Afterglow Common isn't something you're fluent in, but regardless of that you still understood some of it.

It isn't long before he's cumming again, another thick rope of spunk followed by a generous spray of seminal fluid in the air, and by that point you can reasonably say without shadow of a doubt that, yes, you are the one who cracked Leona Kingscholar.

Better yet? He can't spin it around and say that he cracked you when you haven't cum yet, though you are considerably close. Bragging rights, baby!

You dig into him with some newfound enthusiasm, your thrusts reaching deep then shallow again in quick succession. Leona's quiet moans and short breaths fills the room alongside yours as both of your pheromones thoroughly permeate throughout the air.

You do this last bit on autopilot: you lean down and french kiss the beastmen. You aren't even aware that you're doing it—and you don't care. The taste of him on your tongue is incentive enough to not bother with any deeper thought and the simply let fuzziness of your rut coat your brain fully.

Leona doesn't push you away, in fact, his tongue wanders your mouth. His tongue is rough against yours, cloying and intoxicating as it roams. Then the taste of iron from your bitten lip fills your mouth. The sharp sting of pain brings you back to reality.

You pull back slowly and lick your bitten lip, an airy, playful, giggle on your lips. "Really? Ya bit me? Was I goin' to hard on ya that ya needed to bite me to stop me?"

He chuckles darkly at you, his lightly-blood stained teeth flashed back at you in a macabre smile. "Nah, nothin' like that. Just felt like it, is all. No pain, no gain, right, herbivore? Now get back down here and kiss me some more."

"Wasn't planning on it, cap'n."

What you did next could barely be called kissing. It was more like… you were between sucking on his tongue and when you weren't doing that you were attempting regicide by mouth to mouth suffocation. Kisses between the two of you were passionate enough to leave the both of you breathless and that alone was the final push you needed.

You felt your knot fully inflate just before you could reinsert yourself and with it the building sensation of an orgasm right around the corner…! "Gonna knot…!" You hissed.

"Are you? Looks to me that you're struggling down there, Yuu." Leona says slyly between his short breaths. It's funny how he teases you here, in spite of being a shivering mess himself, he's barely able to still himself long enough to accommodate the protrusion poking at the entrance of his asshole. If anything, it looks like he's fighting back the instinct to run away from you.

The man's Alpha instincts are probably going haywire right about now—and you get it. No one's inner alpha is lenient enough to allow such a show of vulnerability without some manhandling first and even then it wouldn't be easy, at least, that's the case with yours. It's a damn miracle that he's managed to hold back that long without clawing his or your skin off in disgust. But hey, if he did then that means he's just built different and good for him on that! You press on, regardless of the danger.

Your hips buck into his, your knot presses hardly against his ass. It stretches as you press harder and harder against him until a figurative "pop" happens between the two of you as your knot finally, finally, enters him in full. Proudly, you marvel at the impressive bulge you're giving the beastmen's lower stomach and your inner alpha purrs in contentment at it too. Then, and finally, you cum for the first, and probably not last, time that night.

Your orgasm rushes through you like a river, pulling you under in it's raging current of euphoric pleasure, and you? You are helpless to go against the tide. You twitch and buck as you came, your cum filling the lion's insides to almost bursting; none of it so much as drips out with you knot plugging Leona's asshole closed.

And speaking of the beastman, he all but sobs in pleasure. Tears trail down his flushes face as he cums with you, his wrist in his mouth and bitten red with his own blood tun a vain attempt to stifle those melodious moans of his. It a marvelous sight to see. It turns you on so fucking hard… and immediately, unconsciously, your hips begin moving again.

One orgasm isn't enough—you NEED another one! And then another and another and another—!

"Oi—give me a breather would'ya? I'm spent down here!" The lion whimpered beneath you but you don't hear him. All that you can hear is your heartbeat and the sound of blood rushing through your veins.

Your pupils are blown wide, almost fully overtaking your irises with how displayed they are, and a steady stream of drool oozed from your mouth and down onto Leona's abdomen. It's here that the full force of your rut overtakes you and here when you know no more.

You wake up… not necessarily comfortably … but rested, content. Cold, even. But that last part isn't all too important.

You lay on your side your chest against the back of a snoring Leona Kingscholar, the beastmen in question laying on your non dominant arm. Not his fault as apparently you were hugging him in your sleep.

How you ended up in a situation where you were the big spoon is beyond you. Not that your complaining in any way, it just doesn't seem like something the lion would've agreed to, but then you notice the snug sensation around your dick and realize that the beastman probably didn't have much say in how the two of you slept.

Yeah, oops, it must've slipped your mind. In fact, you can't remember a thing after your first orgasm. What did you do? What didn't you do? As much as you think and think, nothing comes back to you.

"Ugh, I reek… and so does this room eugh… I need a shower." you mutter to yourself.

You give Leona's chest a few appreciative squeezes and move to separate yourself from him. It takes a bit, but eventually your manege to remove yourself from him. Your dick slips out of him with a wet sounding pop and with it your copious amounts of spunk ooze out onto you, him, and your already ruined sheets.

You look down at your mess and grimace. That's gonna a be a bitch to replace—those sheets, old as there were, were vintage and Night Raven property…! You don't got the cash to pay for repairs!

"Oi, Yuu. I can hear ya havin' conniption back there clear as day, ya practically woke m'up. If you could calm down, that'd be great." The, apparently not sleeping, lion languidly grumbled as he flipped himself onto his back.

He looks tired, and like he just gotten mauled by a bear, now that you're seeing his front side. His eyes are ringed in dark circles from what you can only assume is exhaustion. His neck, shoulders, and chest are littered in bite marks, from you, no doubt, to the point it looked like he had been used as the chew toy for a hyper active chihuahua.

Though, you note that his sent glands were left untouched. A silent sigh of relief leaves you. Even though you fucked like crazy, you can't really stand the thought of becoming bonded to the man.

He's cute… but not that cute. Or is he? Fuck. That line of thought.

Leona sits up, stretches, his arm going up, over, and around your neck, and flops back down with you in tow.

"H-hey?! What gives?" You yelp.

Leona ignores you and yawns. He pulls you closer to himself until you were face to face to his chest, your bodies touching. You pointedly ignore how his knee slides itself between your legs as he made himself comfortable lest you wake up the sleeping beast that is your still semi erect dick.

"You talk too much an' I'm tired as all hell. The least you can give me is a full eight hours of sleep." He says, his voice thick with sleep.

"But what about classes? I can't skip out on those—Crewel will have my head!" You protest, weakly. The embrace he has you in is rather inviting and, fucking hell, the sheer warmth his body is giving off is slowly but surely lulling you back into a drowsy state. All you needs is a blanket and some white noise and you're sure to pass right back out…

"Ya already missed a solid four days of class, what's another day or two to recuperate?" He says, nonchalant, as if he didn't just insinuate that you fucked for about week straight.

"You're joking…" you replied.

He rolls his eyes at you and pulls you closer then he says, "M'not. Just cuz ya can't remember it yourself doesn't mean I can't. Unlike you, Yuu, i was conscious throughout of all of it. Ya fucked me good, herbivore. Wouldn't even let me leave the room most of the time with how damn clingy ya were. And I think you're friends in Rosehearts's dorm showed up to deliver your fire-breathing cat at some point day one of your rut."

The longer you listened to him ramble the redder your face became. Eventually it became to much and you found yourself shouting, "Ok, ok! I get it, you can stop now!"

Leona continues as if he didn't hear you, but a, sly, shit-eating, grin sits on his face that tells you otherwise. "They ran for the hills as soon as they caught a whiff of my and your pheromones seepin' outta the building, was kinda funny watching them scramble like frightened gazelle. At least, it was before ya pounced me. Fucked me twice as hard for even lookin at another man, pumped me with so much of your spunk that I'm sure that if I was an omega I'd be pregnant. Thank the King of Beasts that I have no recessive omega traits or a vestigial womb, right Yuu? Damn well almost made me a mother." He smirked as he said that last bit, but, the smile on his face looked off in a way. Predatory.

You file that away for later.

"So now what? We lay here in our filth until we can't stand it anymore? Don't ya at least want to shower and move to a not demolished room first, cap'n?" You ask, tentatively.

"Don't captain me, frosh. Besides, there's nothing better to do than that. I can't feel my legs so there ain't no way I'm hobbling my aching ass to the communal showers or whatever the fuck this ramshackle of a building has and you're due for an adrenaline drop soon. It ain't been long since you snapped outta your rut and I can practically count the number of minutes you've been asleep for on one hand, meaning, as soon as you settle down a second time you aren't getting back up again any time soon." He replied casually.

"Huh."

He shrugs. "Yeah. Might as well get comfortable, we ain't goin' anywhere anytime soon."

You finds yourself doing just that, your arms wrapping around his waist as his are around yours as you snuggle in close. Before you drift away, you ask, "Won't ya get in trouble for ditching classes for me?"

"I'm a Housewarden. It's my job to look after students going through hard times such as these—well, not fuck them, but help them not hurt themselves or others if they enter their heat or rut at an in opportune time. I can just say that I was helping a fellow night raven student in his time of need."

You blink then narrow your eyes. "You're using me as an excuse to ditch classes also I'm not even in Savanaclaw."

"I am, and that doesn't matter—and, after all of this? The shit you did to me? You're one of mine as I'm one of yours whether you like it or not, Yuu. Nothing you can do about it." He countered swiftly, leaving no room for debate.

"Aw, shit. Does this mean your gonna be attached to my hip for the foreseeable future?" You complain between your yawns.

"Yup. I expect great things, frosh. Hell, maybe I'll even have you as my personal rutting partner a month from now." He fished with a yawn of his own then, like a switch had been flipped, he was out like a light.

You have no idea what you've signed yourself up for. In spite of all your concerns, you only finds yourself being upset with it a very small amount. You yawn another time and let yourself drift off, the soft snoring of your bedside companion following you into your dreams.

Maybe life in an omegaverse-styled world won't be too bad after all?