Forget : A Dark Omegaverse (Unhingedverse)

It may be Saturday, but I’m trying to stay busy today. My heat is three and a half weeks away, and I’m struggling to not panic. My father took one look at my face when I got home yesterday and handed me a pint of my favorite ice cream.

He also asked if I needed to have anyone killed, but I shook my head with a smile and went to my nest. I seriously lucked out with him. He’s amazing.

After my disastrous date, I am beginning to wonder if the dating service is a good fit for me. I filled out the application haphazardly and didn’t really think about what I wanted in a pack. It’s a science experiment, but maybe I should have taken it seriously.

This could be my fault. I’m going in to see Hollis now to figure out what my next steps should be. Should I throw in the towel, go to a bar and find an alpha to fuck me through my next heat? What a way to lose your virginity.

I think I’m dejected and depressed. Those alphas really hit my pride last night. My boots drag as I pull my coat closer to my body. The temperature dropped this morning, and I left so quickly from the restaurant yesterday that I forgot my coat.

I don’t know if I want to return for it, I’m embarrassed that I’ve struck out so many times already while there.

Opening the door to Cupid’s Call, I draw up to my full five-foot-nine height and stride through it. I’m wearing thick knit stockings, a green dress that plays up my eyes, with a purple scarf, matching fingerless mittens, and brown boots.

My hair is wild as usual, but I did my makeup to attempt to cheer myself up a little. I hate failing at things, and this feels like a failure.

“Good morning, Aisling,” Hollis greets me, chuckling when I wrinkle my nose at her. I was up too late with my ice cream and book, doing everything possible to escape my reality.

“Good morning,” I grumble. I may have picked up coffee at my favorite Minneapolis coffee shop, but Mr. Lars wasn’t there. He hired an assistant manager in the last year since I’ve been gone. I keep hoping to run into him, but it hasn’t happened yet.

I’m happy he has more free time, he deserves it. Maybe he’s also found someone to spend it with. That’s a fun thought. Even in my daydreams, everyone is happy except for me.

“This date didn’t go well?” Hollis asks, sighing.

“They thought I was a whore for what I was proposing,” I tell her. “If I were you, I’d remove them from your app.”

“Done,” she says, pulling out her phone. “I’m removing them, and sending an email as well to explain why they’re being terminated, so spill, Aisling.”

“Alright,” I mutter. Taking a fortifying sip of my lavender latte, I launch into a recount of my date while Hollis takes notes.

“Fuck,” she mutters. “I swear, I’ve never had this happen before. I’m so sorry, and I promise this isn’t how dates typically go.”

“I think I also may have been too hasty when I completed the application,” I admit. “I said I wanted stable men who know what they want, but that’s translating into boring alphas who are also judgmental. So maybe I don’t want that at all. I don’t know if I’m a good candidate for this since I’ve never dated before.”

“Are you saying you don’t know what you want?” Hollis suggests as I nod.

“Pathetic, huh?” I sigh.

“One thing we don’t do here is put ourselves down,” Hollis says seriously. She’s probably about ten years older than I am, but gives me older sister vibes. She doesn’t put up with bullshit from anyone.

“I have back up plans for people who aren’t sure of what they want, Aisling. I’ve been matchmaking for a long time.”

As far as I know, she’s single, and something tells me it may be by choice. Hollis is a tall brunette, curvy, and has pouty lips that make me jealous. She also has a great rack. If women like her and I can’t find packs, then I don’t know what’s wrong with the universe.

“What’s the back up plan?” I ask as she flicks the lock to the front door and turns the open sign to closed.

“Let me choose a few packs for you to date,” Hollis suggests, gesturing to a seating area that’s filled with pillows and colorful blankets. Cupid’s Call is open and inviting, and I don’t see anyone else here but her.

I read somewhere that she was a one-woman shop. Hollis sets up all her appointments, runs the app, and updates her website as well. She has the business skills for it all, which amazes me because she is so good at it all.

My failed dating experiences are barred from all of this.

“It can’t hurt,” I say with a nod. “I have a few omegas I’d like for you to meet with next week. The Omega’s Haven has been launched for a few months, and it’s going well. However, no matter how many sex toys The Naughty Tote donates to us, I know more options are needed.”

“I’ve heard of the Naughty Tote,” Hollis says with a smirk. “I’ve ordered from there, and their toys are amazing. How did you get them to partner with you?”

“The brothers who run it are located here in Minneapolis, and Wren and I met with them right before we opened,” I explain. “Shaw came with us as our protection detail, which was fun, but they weren’t intimidated in the least which I appreciated. We just laid out the details of what was needed and why and they immediately agreed.”

“Did they say why they agreed?” Hollis asks, and I bite my lip. It wasn’t a secret, so I figure I can explain it.

“They started their business in the interest of catering to single and packed up omegas,” I begin. “There are toys for everyone, but their needs are all different. Some of their toys have very realistic knots that expand completely, and respond to an omega’s body during her heat. It’s not perfect, but it helps. They also have creams that have synthetic alpha pheromones to help soothe an omega during their heat. If things were different and I wasn’t already committed to trying out the system, I may say fuck it and use their products instead.”

Except, I’m terrified of being alone during my heat. That’s what it all boils down to now. I’ve never needed anyone before, so I hate to need someone now.

“You don’t owe me or anyone else anything,” Hollis snaps, making me flinch as I look at her. “You’re the most selfless person that I’ve ever met. If someone told you to lay in traffic because it would help an omega, I bet you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

“Meh, probably,” I mutter. “I’m so focused on this project so other people don’t have to go through what Wren or I have. It’s never going to be perfect, but I want to be the place people go to when they’re in trouble. Being invisible is almost as much of a curse as having everyone stare.”

“You’re too good for this world,” Hollis rasps, blinking rapidly. “I can see how you swayed the alphas at The Naughty Tote to work with you. What agreement did you reach?”

“We have a back area in the building where we decorated each room with a calming environment. Light blues and teals are what we painted the walls, with pops of yellows for the pillows. Each bed has curtains that can be closed completely, but there’s also a television with every type of porn imaginable. Toys, lubricant, and more are in the headboard that doubles as a secret cabinet,” I explain.

“The omegas who stay there can take whatever they use with them, and afterward, the rooms are cleaned thoroughly for whoever needs it next. The Naughty Tote said they’d deliver a new care package of sex toys every month.”

“That’s an omega’s dream come true,” Hollis says. “Horny, in heat, and just needing to fuck it out in a safe place. Fucking perfection, Aisling.”

A small smile emerges as I nod. “Each room has its own private bathroom, the courtyard is beautiful and fenced off. Every month we add something else until it has everything we can possibly imagine,” I say.

“The money from the fundraiser is going farther than I thought it would, especially with so many donating services. It feels like there’s not enough time for everything.”

“There doesn’t have to be,” Hollis says seriously. “You’re doing more than anyone else has done. The reasons why this is necessary aren’t pretty, but the Omega’s Haven is a work of art.”

Now I blink furiously to hold back my tears, and Hollis grabs a box of tissues for me.

“Aisling, you’ve thought of everything outside of actual alphas with knots,” she teases me.

“Um, actually…” I trail off, glancing up to see if she’s serious or not.

“Oh this is going to be good. Tell me,” Hollis says with a saucy grin.

Unused to her humor, I giggle as I wipe away my tears. “I’m going to the University of Lyons soon to chat with their host club next month. I have an appointment,” I say, blushing. “It’s a co-ed club with men and women who date and also, um⁠—”

“They fuck people for money, Aisling,” Hollis says, snorting as she sees my face. “God, it’s amazing that this is basically what we’re looking for without the payment part. Hmmm.”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“What?” I ask, mirth still in my features. “It’s a little outside of the box, sure. However, there are moments where anything less than a knot isn’t going to do the job. Ah, or so I assume. Maybe I can have a few of them on call since they’re not far from here for Omega’s Haven.”

“That’s awfully progressive for a virgin,” Hollis says, eyes wide.

“Oh, did I not mention that?” I squeak out.

“No, you didn’t,” Hollis mutters. “It is your body, your choice. I think I definitely need to step in, though. I refuse to let you have mediocre sex as your first sexual experience.“

“Thank you,” I tell her, blowing out a breath. “Pack Dayton was awful.”

“Yeah, I looked up their social media account while we were talking, and it looks like they got violently sick at the restaurant you ate at yesterday,” she says, smirking as she holds out her phone.

Glancing down, I read the post, unable to stop myself from smiling. “I really doubt it was food poisoning,” I say. “They are so nice there. I also have a feeling they’ve been eavesdropping on my dates.”

“I hope they slipped something in their food when you left,” Hollis says, still amused. “You have people pulling for you, Aisling. I’ll put together a few mystery dates and send you the times to your app.”

“Thank you,” I say with a grateful look. I don’t care what else I’m doing, I’ll rearrange things. Wren usually runs a group for the shelter with me once a week, but that’s the only evening event I have regularly. I lead an uneventful life for how busy it is.

Rising, I say goodbye to Hollis, tossing my empty coffee cup and tissue in the garbage as she walks me out. Once on the sidewalk, I start walking toward my next destination. I left my car in the parking garage so I could stretch my legs.

Everything I need is in walking distance from where I parked, though I know my father would prefer for me to drive.

Shaking out my hands, I think about my next appointment. Dr. Alys Edwards is new to Minneapolis, and I went to a conference she spoke at three weeks ago about trauma. She was calm, collected, and not once did she suggest that finding a pack would fix a situation.

I made a business appointment to see her at her office between her sessions. I really hope she’ll be willing to work for us, or will allow me to refer people to her.

I don’t want anything pro bono from her.

The next street is where she’s located, and my hand rubs over my skirt where my pocket knife is hidden, before shoving them into my coat for warmth. Minneapolis late November weather is no joke.

December is chasing at its heels, and the decorations are already coming out of the woodwork. I’m going to need to reevaluate my decision to walk after this. That’s not to say that the sidewalks aren’t busy, because they are.

My only saving grace is that it’s not currently snowing. Christmas is in three and a half weeks, and I’m not feeling the holiday lately. The city is already brightly decorated with beautiful window displays, which makes me feel guilty for not enjoying it.

Wren and Flynn surprised me with a spa day in our she shed for my nineteenth birthday, and then we had dinner with their pack. It was fun, I just can’t shake this feeling of dread that I keep feeling over the last couple of months.

My father gave me a gift certificate to a rage room which made me giggle and we ate cake on the back deck.

I feel like there’s a clock ticking on my body, and the sand is slowly spilling out of the hourglass timer. It’s ridiculous, I’m young, I have time dammit. Yet, my mom died at thirty-six-years-old.

I don’t think I’ll ever take anything for granted, knowing how easily it can be snatched away. Living from a place of desperation and scarcity makes me want to scream Pull up your big girl panties and just live!

I wish it really was that easy.

The doctor’s office is in a brick building with a few others, and I open the door just as someone else walks out.

“Excuse me,” the man says with a small smile. He’s wearing a dark-green hoodie and jeans with a gray coat over it all. A black beanie is pulled over his closely cut brown hair as well. His goatee is freshly trimmed, and I very much wish I wasn’t using my pheromone blocking gel.

He looks like trouble with his mischievous smile, and I can tell he’s a beta. God, I almost fucking swooned when I saw his gleaming teeth and the way his tongue swiped along his bottom lip.

I may need alphas biologically, but this man is fine.

“You’re totally fine,” I say breathlessly before slipping inside. I can hear his dark chuckle as I pass him, making me shiver as I hurry to my destination.

Please stop perfuming, I beg as I jog up the stairs of the building. I wore scent and slick wicking panties today out of habit, and because this pair has fleece in them. It is really fucking cold out today.

They may as well keep me warm.

The doctor’s office door is slightly ajar and I knock lightly before peeking my head in. There’s a reception area and then the room she uses for sessions beyond that. The walls are papered in dark-green paper, while the floors are the hardwood that’s been under my feet throughout the rest of the building.

The office feels professional without feeling stuffy, and there are magazines on the coffee paper.

“Aisling?” a woman with brown hair, pulled back into a bun asks as I walk further inside. “Hello, I’m Dr. Alys Edwards. Please call me Dr. Alys. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Dr. Alys looks like she’s in her mid-thirties and has warm caramel eyes and is shorter than I am. She’s wearing a blue sweater dress that hugs her curves. She looks pulled together and approachable. I instantly like her.

“I am, hi,” I tell her with a smile. “Thanks for giving me a little time on the weekend.”

“It’s no problem,” she says, waving me forward, so she can come over and lock the door. “I’m not expecting anyone, but I’d rather be safe.”

Nodding, I catch her slight floral scent, reminding me of the magnolias Dad has in his garden. It’s not overpowering, and suits her well as I follow her to the other room.

There’s a desk as well as a large sofa and two armchairs in the room, as well as bookcases filled with books. It’s comfortable, and when I sit in the armchair, I find that I’m able to take a full breath for the first time today.

“Now, what would you like to speak about?” Dr. Alys asks.

“I have had some experience with therapists,” I begin with a small smile, “and the rhetoric is often damaging to the patient. I even know someone’s mother who was medicated for voices, but those voices weren’t due to schizophrenia.”

“What were they from?” Dr. Alys asks, leaning forward with interest.

“A group of alphas forced a pack bond on her, which twisted it in a way I’ve never heard of,” I explain. “The doctor didn’t ask questions, because he was doing experiments at the hospital.”

“What the hell,” she growls. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with these doctors. I’ve come into contact with many who back the teachings we had in school, that omegas need alphas in order to remain happy and mentally stable. While in a way, biologically our body needs the things that the right pack can offer, it is not a bandaid for more serious issues. On the other hand, not everyone is ready for therapy when they’ve had a traumatic event happen, and the wrong therapist can cause damage.”

“And that is why I’m here,” I say gratefully, not even a little bit turned off by her mini diatribe. It’s everything I’ve been thinking over the last year.

“My friend and I run Omega’s Haven. It’s a shelter, outreach center, and community to help omegas specifically. However we’ll help whoever comes to us in need. We’re offering a safe place for omegas to have a heat who don’t have somewhere safe to have one. One thing we are in desperate need of is a therapist who isn’t going to do more harm than good. We have a budget set aside for therapy, could I refer people to you?”

Dr. Alys blinks slowly at me as if this wasn’t how she thought she’d be spending part of her Saturday. I know my heart is big, and so is my energy, so I sit back for a moment to allow her to process.

“Let’s walk through this,” she says, brows drawing down as she thinks. “Some of these people will be in hiding, correct?”

“Yes,” I agree. “We have security around the building, and a back door for anyone who needs the anonymity to come in or leave.”

“Would it be better if I come to you for these sessions?” Dr. Alys asks. “We could set the time up, and I can work out of an office in Omega’s Haven?”

My heart beats a little harder as I realize she’s not shutting me down, and I hide my hands at my sides as my nails dig into my palms to stay grounded. I didn’t think I’d get this far, since I’ve been turned down by so many other people for things.

“Of course,” I breathe. “We can easily do that.”

“Did you think I would say no?” she asks, her face clearing of the furrowed lines to smile at me. “Oh God, have people seriously denied you?”

Dr. Alys has an old fashioned way of speaking, but it helps me relax as I shake my head.

“I have had people tell me ‘no’ for other things to do with the organization due to my age,” I admit. “I also have a feeling people don’t like or understand what Wren and I are doing. However, you’re the first therapist I’ve asked to work with because I have encountered therapists whose backward way of thinking causes more harm than good. I went to a mental health conference you spoke at and could tell immediately you were different.”

“Well thank God for that,” she sighs. “I’m just growing my practice in Minneapolis, and have more time on my hands than I’d like to admit.”

“I mean, I would hire you outright if it wasn’t overambitious of me to ask,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t want to completely take over your time. There’s simply no other therapist that I’ve met with, or listened to their discourse where they don’t mention that an omega just needs to be regularly fucked in order to forget their problems.”

“That’s such shit,” Dr. Alys growls. “We’ll figure out a schedule and go from there. I hate that this is what people still think.”

“It’s what I’ve been told by three or four different therapists, which is why I no longer go,” I sigh. “I put in the effort, but I don’t even want to recommend that my own friends go to therapy because I know it won’t help.”

“I’ll do my damnedest to assist,” Dr. Alys says. “I’m not a miracle worker⁠—”

“I know that,” I say with a sad smile. “Most people just need someone to process things. I’ll be throwing a lot of work your way though. I swear Minnesota is the best place to be forgotten as an omega.”

“That’s a very bold statement,” she says, brow raised.

Standing, I make a face. “Doesn’t make it any less true. Monday, I’ll get a list of people together who would be interested in speaking with you, so you can begin scheduling them.”

“Will you be one of them?” Dr. Alys asks.

“Eventually,” I tell her. “There are people who need it more than I do.”

“Why do I feel as if that’s not true?”

She remains sitting, as I blow out a breath. “I’m a time bomb for various reasons, so this is the best I can do,” I say cryptically, moving toward the door.

“Why are you a time bomb?” Dr. Alys asks, moving so her foot is underneath her, so she’s half standing. “I won’t repeat a word of this, swear.”

“It’s so ridiculous,” I mutter, turning to face her. I can feel warmth behind my eyes, and I swipe at them preemptively. “Over the past year, I’ve been medically sedated during my heats, because some idiot played a prank on me. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any way to get through the heat and it burned through me until I passed out. My heat lasted for four days, and even half awake, all I remember is how much pain I was in. So now, I’m fucking terrified of going through another alone.”

“What happened to the person who played the prank? Does he or she know what they did?” Dr. Alys asks.

“Nope, though my father almost killed him when he found out,” I say. “Dad could tell there was something off with me, though we hadn’t known each other for long at that point. Hayes, the person responsible for the prank, kept making snarky comments until I broke down and explained what happened to my father.”

“Medicated sedation isn’t the best option, but it’s been working for the moment. Why would that have to change?” Dr. Alys asks, looking confused.

“My medical doctor isn’t comfortable with continuing this course of treatment for much longer,” I explain. “So, I joined a dating app to find a pack that will be willing to help me through my heats. I know there are sex toys and all kinds of things that help, and I was all ready to do just that but⁠—”

“What was the prank?”

“On the day I turned eighteen, I went shopping for sex toys,” I reply, rolling my eyes even as they overflow with tears. It all feels so dumb now. “Long story short, Hayes brought my bags up to my room at my dad’s house, and stole them, replacing them with a note and a pocket knife. I kept the knife in my hand throughout my heat, though I didn’t use it. It’s a reminder.”

Tugging up my skirt, I show her the knife I have strapped to my thigh. It’s the same one Hayes left for me. I started wearing it instead of my other one shortly afterward.

“You should have let your father kill him,” Dr. Alys grunts. “If you weren’t as strong as you are… Well, we won’t go there. A first heat is overwhelming, the cramps debilitating, and it can set the tone for how others will go. You were alone for it, so it makes sense that you may have a fear of them?”

“The second I start to feel the first cramp, I’m frozen in fear,” I murmur. “Dad has the doctor on standby. I’m sure it’s a pain that the omega can’t figure her shit out.”

“You’re projecting,” she admonishes. “You wouldn’t have to figure anything out if you had had a non-traumatic heat. Your brain is hardwired to expect pain now, which is why you’re feeling fear. I can see how having a pack to help you through your heat would be beneficial, but it has to be the right people.”

“I don’t think I know what I want, which is ridiculous, and fucking up the entire dating process Hollis has,” I groan. At her blank look, I sigh. “Cupid’s Call is working with me for our omegas who want to date safely at Omega’s Haven. So I’ve been the guinea omega. I just told her my instincts clearly can’t be trusted, and asked her to set up mystery dates for me. If we click, then great. If not, whatever.”

“Could you possibly be afraid of your instincts?” Dr. Alys asks.

Taking that into consideration, I hum to myself. “Maybe? My instincts have been overworked for a while, and I’m honestly exhausted,” I admit. “Every decision was weighed heavily, so I overanalyze everything. When I took the dating questionnaire, I didn’t give it a lot of thought, and I ended up with a lot of duds.”

“It’s brave to throw it all up to chance and also a good step,” Dr. Alys says.

“I don’t know about that, but I’ll let you go on a high note,” I tease, winking as I leave.

I feel a little lighter as I walk back to my car to drive to Omega’s Haven. The weather is turning and I can feel the icy air as I breathe in.

Hello winter, I see you.