warnings: polyamory, omegaverse, allusions to nonconsent/punishment, shidou refers to reader as being little/“little one”
note: repost from my sideblog (lightsoutsunshine) that i deleted recently, consolidating content here :)
“Why won’t you claim me?”
To anyone else, that would be a loaded question. An alpha going through multiple ruts and heats with an omega without claiming them was cause for concern on the omega’s side, and would leave any self respecting alpha to hope they navigated the conversation without losing the omega. The omega would be wondering if they mattered, if they were worthy of being claimed by that alpha, if they could recover from whatever this had become should it fall apart.
But he was not any alpha, and you were not any omega.
This situation was simultaneously more and less delicate in areas where it mattered, but the complex question has a disgustingly simple response.
“You’re not mine to claim. You’re his.”
“He’s not an alpha!” You even stomped your little foot, a cute display of aggression that was allowed only because he didn’t find it offensive when you fought back. You had a lot of big feelings in that little body, and he was the only willing outlet for the uglier emotions your connecting piece wouldn’t allow. “I need an alpha!”
“You have one. He’s an alpha.”
“He’s not in a way that matters and I can’t believe you entertain his insecure beta bullshit.”
He loved when you were upset. The cute furrow in your brow and the way your eyes got all watery even though you really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears. Your cheeks flush, jaw clenching as your teeth press together to stop yourself from saying something you’ll get punished for — he knows you’ll purr for him later when he gently massages the sore joints. Aside from that, the way the air shifts with your frustration is an environment he thrives in. Your scent got that much more potent, sour with your anger but still delicious in his current pre-rut frame of mind. The little omega took up more space when she was angry, and he loved when you felt safe enough to let that out on him.
Because he wasn’t any alpha, he didn’t care about hierarchy or any of that other shit that tried to dictate how people acted. Some were born to breed, others to be bred, and that shouldn’t impact how people were treated so he didn’t care that a fussy omega was snapping at him in the kitchen. He cared even less about the beta who was posturing as an alpha, though other alphas would resort to violence to put that beta in their place. Social hierarchy wasn’t a real thing, and when you had enough money you could avoid it all entirely — which is what he did, and it was currently working out just fine.
“Sae takes real good care of you, little one. Talk nicer about him.”
Whatever argument you had is halted by his statement, and he takes a drink of his water while maintaining his casual lean against the kitchen counter. Your space by the island counter remained uninvaded, but he didn’t need to get closer to you to get you to settle down. The reminder that this situation could somehow be worse for you was enough coupled with the sound of the front door opening, and you knew better than to argue with him like this in front of Sae.
Where he didn’t care, Sae cared a lot and would punish you for acting out or treating either of your alphas so poorly. All you had to beg for was a knot, with all of your other wants and needs taken care of exclusively by Sae. New clothes, expensive vacations, a luxurious roof over your head — it was all yours, regardless of how it came to be this way. You were a spoiled omega, and eventually you would realize that and learn to simply let go of the shitty little things that happened in your life. Sae could pay for it all to go away and he would do it without hesitation if you asked.
Sae’s nose wasn’t as strong, never fully capturing the distinct mood that either of his lover’s scents gave off, but he could feel tension in a room and quickly deduce there was an issue. Perhaps not one that needed his intervention, but an issue nonetheless, and his entrance into the kitchen is met with two sets of greetings that he returns with a nod.
“What does she want this time?”
“Nothin’ important,” Shidou responds, and you sigh when Sae leans in and presses his nose to the irritated gland behind your ear. “Still not healin’ and it’s bothering her.”
He winks at you, letting you know that your little tantrum would stay between you two and saving you another lecture about how your lack of being claimed was your fault for rejecting Sae’s attempts. In return Sae doesn’t push the subject, still inspecting the gland that had gotten infected and was taking much too long to heal.
Slender fingers carefully trail along the length of your neck until you wince and alert Sae that he’d gotten to the edge of your tenderness around the gland. He’s concerned, frown deepening before he says that he’ll put more of the antibiotic gel on after he gets out of the shower.
You’re less bristly when Sae walks away, and Shidou was going to assume that the beta’s scent brought you a bit more comfort than you would like to admit. Maybe it was the reassurance that Sae was going to address something that was causing you pain, or the fact that you weren’t being scolded for complaining about the lack of claim — he wasn’t ever going to know for sure.
