Chapter Text
Omegas were often seen as "breedable machines”, a submissive object that could satisfy one’s pleasure, someone that was looked down upon by Alphas. Yet one Omega, a Dominant Omega specifically, is an "exception.”
William Byers, the no.1 popular Dominant Omega. He was famous for being a top-notcher at their class, the kindness he showed whether to Alphas or Omegas, and his appearance for being the ‘Goddess’ of Hawkins University. He was the Omega craved by all.
He entered the school with grace and a "genuine” smile. He wore a high-collared black turtleneck paired with a stiff pinstripe blazer, with black slacks–showing every curve of his body, specifically hips. A single diamond-encrusted hoop glinted in his ear, making the Alphas around him wanting to taste him at least once.
But as he opened his locker, thousands of notes fell to the floor—countless confessions, compliments, and invitations to be "claimed.” He didn’t even look at them. He just clutched his portfolio—full of his art and his quiet dreams—close to his very chest.
“Now there’s my doll.”
Chance, his “star athlete” Alpha boyfriend, draped his hands over to Will’s shoulders, caressing his neck where he left a "mark” made by him. “Hey," Will showed a "warm” smile at him.
It wasn’t just a “warm” smile, it was a facade, rehearsed many many times, to hide the secrets from the shadows. Now Will was exceptionally optimistic, well at the eyes of others at least. But inside, he was nothing but a scared Omega. Under all those clothes and the “makeups" he used, he was filled with bruises, swelling parts, and even a hint of trauma.
Made by his very own lovely boyfriend.
“You’re looking especially…functional today, doll,” Chance murmured, his hand sliding down from Will’s neck to the curve of his hip, squeezing so hard enough to make Will’s vision almost blank. "The guys were just saying how lucky I am to have the only Omega who actually knows how to dress like a prize.”
“Thanks, Chance,” Will whispered, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands.
“Though,” Chance's tone shifted, becoming a low, sharp blade intended only for Will’s ears. “I saw that sketchbook shoved in the back of your locker during lunch. I thought I told you to stop wasting on that useless shit. You aren’t an artist, doll. You’re just a beautiful, breedable thing, My breedable thing. That’s your only value. Don’t start thinking you’re actually talented—it makes you even more pathetic than you ever were.” Instead of siding with Will, Chance’s teammates even agreed and added shit jokes about it.
As if the emphasis wasn’t enough. Will’s heart plummeted. Pathetic. The word echoed in his head, reinforced by the brainwashing he’d endured for months. He knew something was wrong, that something should be corrected. Instead, he believed him. He believed that without Chance’s “love,” he was just a used omega with a hobby he couldn’t even afford.
Chance and his teammates kept on discussing and debating disgusting thoughts about how omegas should behave, how submissive they should truly be, and how they should be at their feet, groveling and craving for their love. It was truly a suffocating moment for Will. He had to listen at the side, colliding with the pheromones released by the alphas, even his boyfriend’s, were making his stomach churl.
I can do this, I HAVE to do this. I NEED to endure this. This is normal. Omegas should stay obedient for their Alphas. Will thought.
While the group of Alphas were chatting away, walking around outside but within the school premises. They didn’t notice the three shadows who were observing them at a distance, specifically at the second floor balcony.
Mike Wheeler leaned against the railing, wearing a white polo shirt crisp and clean, narrowed his eyes, tracking Will’s limp that no one else noticed. “He’s holding his left side. It’s swelling, that fucker hit him again,” Mike murmured, his voice cold.
Richie Tozier, standing next to him in a loud, obnoxious Hawaiian shirt with his glasses held together by a thick piece of white tape, didn’t crack a joke, which is unusual for him, knowing “Trashmouth” as his name. "Look at the neck, Mike. Top left. Behind the hair. That’s a fingerprint. 3 days fresh. The prick is consistent, I’ll give him that."
Boris Pavlikovsky stood in the shadows behind them, a dark, oversized sweater swallowing his frame. He was looking at the way Will’s eyes stayed fixed on the art studio, as if he were looking for an escape route. Boris clicks his silver light. Flick. Flick. “The dog… he is getting clumsy. He marks what is not his to touch."
Now Will knew no one knew his secret, he made sure to cover all the bruises and swelling using makeup or an oversized sweater. Unfortunately, it was not enough to hide it from the three distant yet identical cousins who were keen on observing him.
"Let’s go,” Boris said in a command tone. Mike and Richie followed him.
—
As Will walked beside Chance, he felt like he was drowning in a swamp of thick, artificial musk and the posturing scents of the basketball team. His stomach churned. He felt his "Dominant" instincts screaming to fight back, but the brainwashing kept his head bowed.
Surprisingly, when Will was obediently enduring the suffocating pheromones. He was swept by the scents—Deep cedarwood to ground him, Sharp peppermint to wake him, and bitter smoke to shield him. It relieved his omega, making his distress pheromones disappear with just a sniff.
“Hey asshole,” a voice drawled, dripping with a terrifying amount of boredom.
The group stopped. Chance flinched, his hand tightening painfully on Will’s hip, making the omega whimper softly. Standing in their path was Richie Tozier, his eyes cold and mocking behind his taped glasses. Behind him, the shadows seemed to thicken as Mike and Boris stepped into view.
“When will you just shut the fuck up?” Richie sneered, his smirk widening as he caught the way Chance’s scent turned sour with fear and insecurity. Richie glanced at Will’s jaw, a tiny smudge of concealer. “You’re boring the ‘Princess,’ Chance. And honestly? You’re giving me a headache. Something your mom wouldn’t even do when I'm banging her.”
Chance snarled, stepping forward. “What the hell?! Just mind your fucking business, Tozier. This is between me and my property.”
Boris moved then. He didn’t say a word, but the flicking of his lighter sounded like a hammer cocking on a gun. He blew smoke directly into Chance’s face. “Property,” Boris rumbled, his voice like grinding stones, waiting to ignite at the right time. “is a very dangerous word for a man with such…fragile…secrets.”
The two of them stepped forward, making the other alphas scared. They knew who they were about to fight. The Wheeler-Tozier-Pavlikovsky, were as famous as Will, but with a different kind of reason. Everyone knew if they ever crossed a line, their families would be done for. But Will? he knows nothing, he was just looking at them confused as to why their scent is much more comforting than Chance’s, his own boyfriend.
Boris leaned in, clicking his lighter—flick, flick—right next to Chance’s ear. The flame was tiny, but the heat was a warning. "Ты его тронул," Boris whispered, his voice dropping to a lethal, private register. "Если я увижу это снова... я скормлю тебе твои же пальцы."
The Russian was thick, guttural, and carried a vibration that Chance felt in his teeth. Chance froze. He didn't speak the language, but he understood the threat.
"Back off, Pavlikovsky," Chance stammered, though his grip on Will loosened. "This doesn't fucking concern you."
With all the tension, they didn’t notice that Mike was standing behind Will. He stepped between them, making Chance break his ‘chains’, tied at Will. They had a sudden face off, but got interrupted by Boris’s overwhelming superior scent.
Mike made sure to pull Will beside, scenting him as to not get scared of Boris’s own scent. “Solnyshko, I-I mean Will. It’s okay. You can go to your class now, Art right? We’re just… going to talk.” he said softly while looking at Will with his puppy dog eyes, smiling like a nerd.
Will was oblivious, as his mind was clouded with the scents around him. He just nodded and went away, escaping from what just happened.