Some omegaverse joncon Thoughts before I finally get up and start my day…
Jon going into heat, it hasn’t started yet but it will soon, trying to get home unnoticed. An alpha smelling him, following him, and he’s so distracted he doesn’t realize until it’s too late, until he’s opening his door and they’re pushing him inside. He tries to fight, slick dripping from his needy cunt as he shoves at them, yelling at them to stop, but it’s so easy for them to wrestle him to the ground. His hips instinctually lifting to present to them no matter how desperately he doesn’t want it. Being mounted by the alpha and fucked in the hallway. So desperate. It feels so so good and he HATES it. Whimpering. His scent making his pleasure obvious. He needs to cum and he’s so close but he CAN’T. Not until the alpha finally knots him. Pumps his womb full of cum.
He’s taken on every available surface. Against walls, on the couch, in his bed. Soon every thought but the need to be bred is fucked out of him. Eagerly humping his alpha, riding the knot he’s caught on, whining for another load. So eager to be used, to be fucked and knotted and bred. Finally his heat is ending and he’s beginning to come back to himself, unsure and afraid while his alpha forces him down and breeds him one last time before leaving.
Eventually Jon will be in his right mind. In an apartment that smells like his rapist’s desire and pleasure, the mingling scents from their matings. The bed stinking of needy omega, of alpha desire and semen, of well-bred omega. And no matter what he does the stench will linger for weeks. Waking him in the dead of night, aroused and empty, instincts crying for the alpha who forced themselves on him. Remembering how they mounted him while he ruts against his hand, cumming with a soft pleading whine that he hates himself for afterwards.
He’s not surprised to discover he’s pregnant. Disgusted in himself when some deep instinctual part of him purrs that his mate was so strong, able to keep up with his heat, to put a litter in him. He never wanted that. He hates what his heat turned him into, what his instincts seem to be clamoring for.