emfreuden I'm so sorry that we haven't done your request yet
it'll happen
eventually XD
but right now I actually had an idea for a book but I don't know how it would end and stuff so maybe when I'm done with all my books on my other accounts and Prince Ali it'll be a thing
but for now ("just for now" covered by PTX) it's going to be a one-shot
enjoy :)
~Ansley
(by the way just going to warn you I almost cried writing this)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mitch was an Omega.
He was very obedient, beautiful, and just overall a lovely addition to any pack.
However, he was ranked a one out of ten. According to his tests, he was not a good Omega.
Scott was an Alpha.
He was very handsome, strong, and just overall a lovely addition to any pack.
However, he was ranked a two out of twenty. According to his tests, he was not a good Alpha.
Then, they met.
+++
Mitch timidly follows his father through the streets, limping slightly in his left leg from last night's punishment. His father glares at all the other Alphas as they pass, but none of them even attempt to approach Mitch, and it's not because of his father's fierce gaze. No, Mitch is known around the town as being the worst Omega ever, ranked so lowly that even Christina from the Different series is considered better. Therefore, no Alphas were interested.
This is also why, at the age of eighteen, Mitch still lives with his parents. No pack wanted to take him.
See, in his community, Omegas normally joined a new pack at the age of sixteen.
But Mitch was unwanted.
Mike finally stops in front of a store and he turns to Mitch, his eyes automatically turning red at the sight of him. "I'm going to go in here for a few minutes. You stay outside — I don't want to be seen with you. If I come out and you're gone, you'll be limping in your other leg too, you hear me?" he growls, and Mitch nods, his eyes immediately turning bright blue. "Yes, sir," he says quietly, and his father growls again before disappearing inside the store.
Mitch wraps his arms around himself and leans against the wall outside the store, closing his eyes and trying to keep from shaking. He ignores all the Alphas, Betas, and even Omegas that skirt him widely, not wanting to get too close in fear of somehow being infected with his badness. His leg aches, his back burns, everything hurts.
I don't get it. I try so hard to be good, yet I'm always punished. What's wrong with me?
Everything.
Oh. Right.
Mitch opens his now-brown eyes and pushes himself off the wall, hugging himself tighter. He doesn't see his father inside the store anymore, but it doesn't bother him. He honestly couldn't care less if he gets lost and dies. Everyone else would be better off, anyway.
"Are you lost?"
Mitch whirls to face a tall Alpha, staring at him with concern sparkling in his blue eyes. Mitch immediately backs away a few steps, his gaze nervously flickering to all the other people staring at the Alpha with bewilderment. The Alpha frowns, not noticing them, and steps closer. "What's wrong?" he asks gently, and Mitch frantically shakes his head.
"Y-you should go."
"Excuse me?"
"S-stay away from m-me."
"I won't hurt you, I promise. I only want to see if you're okay."
"No, sir, y-you don't understand. Th-they're going to hate you. Run while you can. Or maybe p-punish me. Th-that might m-make them l-less suspicious."
The Alpha frowns even more, this time with confusion. "Punish you? You haven't done anything wrong," he says softly, but Mitch doesn't answer. His eyes lay on another Alpha walking out of the store, and they immediately glow bright Omega blue. His father comes nearer, his upper lip curled back in disgust as he sees his son. He doesn't seem to notice the taller Alpha watching with confusion.
Mike shoves his bags in Mitch's arms, and Mitch hurries to hold them properly, flinching when one falls. His father snarls loudly, his eyes flashing red. "You idiot," he hisses, slapping Mitch across the face. Mitch feels his eyes brim with tears, but he hurriedly blinks them away and shakily bends to pick up the fallen bag. His father takes this as an opportunity to roughly shove Mitch to the ground, chuckling darkly when the rest of the bags tumble out of his arms. Mitch furiously wipes away a tear that managed to escape and picks all of the bags up, shakily standing and forcing himself to meet his father's eyes. "I'm sorry, sir," he says quietly, and he feels his eyes flicker to the Alpha behind his father, watching with horror. Mike notices and slaps Mitch again. "Keep eye contact, you worthless Omega," he snarls before turning to see the other Alpha.
He draws himself to his full height at the sight of the other Alpha, but still doesn't come close to his height. Disregarding this, Mike lets his eyes burn red. "Are you trying to flirt with my pathetic excuse for an Omega?" he growls, gesturing lazily behind him at Mitch, who is still furiously wiping away the tears falling from his cheeks. The Alpha frowns. "I was just asking if —"
"You don't want him. Trust me." Mitch's father interrupts the Alpha, glancing coldly back at his son. The Alpha frowns even more. "Why not?" he asks, and Mike raises an eyebrow. "You must be new here," he says, sizing the other Alpha up. "My son —" he turns to glare at Mitch once more "— happens to be the worst Omega in this town. I'd love for you to take the idiot, but as a kind Alpha, I want to help a brother out and warn you that if you do take him then you'll automatically become the worst Alpha in this town." The Alpha stares past Mike at the small Omega crying softly behind him.
"What if I already am?"
"What?"
The Alpha looks back at Mike. "What if I already am the worst Alpha?"
Mike lets his lip curl back in disgust once more. "Scott Hoying. I knew I'd seen you before. Well, listen up, buddy. I'm sure that you are probably at least a five out of twenty, judging by your looks and your muscles, but I can guarantee if you take Mitchell here than you will become a zero. You don't want him." With that, he turns, roughly grabs Mitch's arm, and yanks him away, leaving Scott to watch them helplessly.
+++
Mike throws Mitch inside the house, watching as all the bags tumble out of his arms once more and he scrambles to pick them up. He closes the door and goes into the kitchen, kicking Mitch in the stomach as he walks by, and crosses his arms to wait for Mitch.
A few seconds later, the Omega hurries in the room with the bags in his arms, his cheeks tear-stained but his eyes already blue. "Put the groceries away and then we'll decide what to do about your behavior today," Mike commands, and Mitch scrambles to obey, rushing to put everything in its proper cupboard. As soon as he's done, Mike grabs his arm again and pulls him out of the kitchen, heading for the Punishment Room.
As they head to the Punishment Room, they travel through the living room. There, Mitch's mother watches them go with disgust, her gaze full of hatred for her son.
Mike throws Mitch inside the Punishment Room, coming inside himself and locking the door behind him. Mitch shakily stands up, sniffling pathetically as he waits for his father's decision.
Mike's gaze travels across the room, landing on each and every little tool he uses to inflict pain on his son, before they land on a certain one and his lips curve into a smirk. "I think this'll be nice, won't it?" he says softly, going over to take it off the wall. Mitch sees it and feels his heart rate pick up, digging his nails into his palm.
"Take your shirt off and hold out your wrists," his father commands, and Mitch shakily obeys, slowly lifting the hem of his shirt up and over his head to reveal his chest, already littered with scars and wounds from past punishments. He throws his shirt to the side, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths as he hears it hit the floor, and holds out his wrists. Mitch flinches as he feels the cool metal of handcuffs click around his wrists, chaining them together, and slowly opens his eyes. Mike smirks at him, holding up another pair. He clicks one cuff around the chain connecting Mitch's two wrists and then pushes Mitch to the floor so his scarred back is exposed, connecting the other to a bar. Mitch now can't move, and he hears his heart beating loudly in his ears as he braces for impact.
"Count," Mike snarls, raising the whip above his head. He brings it down with a crack upon Mitch's back, and the Omega screams as his skin is ripped open. "O-on-ne," he sobs, tears already streaming down his cheeks from his bright blue eyes. Another crack, another scream. "T-t-two-o."
And on and on it goes.
Finally, after twenty cracks and twenty screams, Mike decides his son is done. He stares at him distastefully as Mitch sobs on the floor, his back torn and bleeding. "Get up," Mike commands, and Mitch tries to obey, but his knees give out and he falls back to the floor. "I said to get up!" Mike growls loudly, cracking the whip as if to emphasize his point. Mitch sobs again and forces himself to get up, swaying on his feet but clutching the bar for support. Mike comes closer, eyeing Mitch's wounds and deciding whether or not they're bad enough for Mitch to be tended to. Meanwhile, Mitch clings to the bar, his arms shaking and his back bleeding and tears streaming down his cheeks. Mike reaches forward, ignoring Mitch's flinch, and unclips the handcuffs, taking them and hanging them back on the wall.
"You will stay in this room and tend to yourself until I order you to come out. Understood?"
Mitch nods, still sobbing. "Y-y-yes, s-sir."
Mike lets his lip curl back in disgust as his eyes trail up and down his son's body before growling and leaving without another word.
As soon as he's gone, Mitch falls to the floor again, shaking and crying and ignoring the steady trickle of blood down his back. He curls into a ball, struggling to control his breathing, and when he finally calms down a bit, he forces himself to get up once more. Mitch sways on his feet, biting his lip to hold back more sobs, and carefully edges forward, headed for a small cabinet in the corner of the room. He shakily opens it and extracts bandages, a water bottle, and a towel, his hands shaking so much he almost drops them, and when he tries to open the water, his shaking fingers barely manage.
Mitch pours the water over his back, shivering as the cool water flushes off some most of the blood. He hopes the wounds don't get infected as he shakily tries to bandage himself up, giving up after a few tries and slipping his shirt back over his head.
He collapses against the wall, slowly sliding down and hissing in pain as the rough wall digs into his cuts. He closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall, trying to focus on happy memories to keep himself from crying again.
However, with a jolt, Mitch realizes that he doesn't have any happy memories.
For as long as he can remember, he's been beaten and punished repeatedly, not once not having a wound of some kind from punishments.
With a shudder, the sobs start once more.
+++
*three days later*
The door slams loudly and Mitch jumps, almost dropping the cup he's holding. Mike glares at him from the door. "You worthless Omega, don't make this day worse for me!" he shouts, and Mitch nods, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry," he whimpers softly, finishing cleaning the cup and hurriedly putting it away.
Mike walks into the living room, where Nel sits, and immediately starts ranting to her about idiots at work. Mitch edges into the room and bows his head, clasping his hands together in front of him as he waits for an order. Mike looks over at him, his gaze hardening. "Get me a whiskey," he commands, and Mitch nods. "Yes, sir," he says quietly, immediately walking into the kitchen to obey his father.
Mitch flinches as he hears his father's voice raise to a yell as he gets angered by the idiots at work, scaring him so badly he drops the cup. Mitch watches as it smashes, and suddenly the yells from the living become silent. Mitch immediately bends to clean it up, shaking fingers barely avoiding being cut on the glass.
"You idiot!" Mike yells, storming into the kitchen. "You broke it! You're a horrible Omega, why did we keep you alive?!" Mitch feels himself start to cry, straightening up and shakily throwing the glass into the trash. "I-I-I'm s-sorry, s-sir," he stammers, backing away from his father. Mike growls, his eyes turning blood red. "This time we'll kill you for sure," he snarls, reaching for the terrified Omega.
Mitch panics and runs, dodging Mike's outstretched arms, and stumbles towards the door. He fumbles to get it open and rushes outside, slamming it behind him and running away from certain death.
He trips over his own feet as he runs, shaking so badly he's having a hard time walking straight.
Mitch runs into something solid and falls back against the ground. He doesn't even try to get up, just crying harder. "I'm s-sorry, sir, p-please don't p-p-punish m-me," he sobs, digging his nails into his palms and squeezing his eyes shut as he braces for impact.
However, it never comes. Instead, a gentle voice speaks. "Of course not. Are you alright?" it asks, but Mitch doesn't seem to hear, shaking and crying and mouthing the words "I'm sorry" over and over and over.
Scott looks around worriedly before crouching beside the terrified Omega, hesitantly reaching out to take his hand. Mitch flinches as though he had burned him, but doesn't pull away, knowing that he deserved whatever Scott was about to do to him. Scott feels his heart break a bit and he hesitates before speaking again. "We should get you home."
This gets Mitch's attention. His eyes snap open and he frantically shakes his head, sobbing harder. "N-no. P-p-pleas-se, s-sir, d-don't make me g-go b-back there. Y-you can do an-anything y-you w-want to m-me, just d-don't m-make me g-go back." Scott hesitates, staring into Mitch's beautiful brown eyes, glistening with tears, before letting out a shaky breath of air and nodding. "Fine. You can stay with me," he says quietly, holding out a hand to Mitch. The Omega sniffles pathetically and takes it, still tensing at the contact but forcing himself not to pull away.
Scott glances around again, noticing a group of young male Alphas over on the other side of the street sneering at them. His gaze immediately hardens and his blue eyes flash red, causing Mitch to whimper quietly in fear. "Come on, Mitch. Let's go," he says lowly, still glaring at the other Alphas. Mitch whimpers again but lets Scott pull him along.
Soon enough, the Alphas make their way over to Scott and Mitch, smirks on their lips and evil in their eyes. "How perfect," one sneers, "the worst Alpha and the worst Omega together." Scott glares at all of them, pushing Mitch behind him. "Leave us alone," he growls lowly, and the Alphas all laugh. "'Leave us alone'. Pathetic," another one mocks, and they laugh once more. One Alpha dares to come forward, shoving Scott backward and into Mitch. The Omega falls to the ground, tears streaming steadily down his cheeks. The Alphas turn their attention to him, and all of their eyes collectively turn red. Mitch whimpers at the sight, his eyes immediately glowing blue. "And here's the little Omega," one growls softly, stalking towards him. Mitch pushes himself away, tears falling faster. "P-p-please d-don't h-hurt m-m-me," he whimpers quietly, and the Alpha grins wickedly. "I don't know, I think I want to see Worst Alpha in the Town over here try to defend you." With that, he reaches forward and grabs him, holding him up as the other Alphas rush forward for their fun.
Mitch screams in pain as they punch him and kick him, struggling helplessly against the Alpha's grip. Passerby make no move to help him, some even standing by to watch. Scott tries in vain to free him, but fails, and eventually the Alphas get bored and drop Mitch, laughing as he crumples to the ground. "Your Alpha couldn't help you. Not that you deserve help anyway. Worthless Omega," an Alpha sneers, kicking Mitch one more time in the stomach before leading his group away.
Mitch forces himself to get up, almost falling again as pain flares in his leg. "I'm s-sorry, sir," he whispers, not meeting Scott's eyes, "I-I've r-ruined your rep-reput-tation." Scott sighs and shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. "No, I'm sorry. I should've protected you. Do you need me to carry you?" he asks quietly, and Mitch shakes his head stiffly, trying to take a step but falling to the ground once more. Scott sighs and bends to pick him up, carrying him bridal style. Mitch tenses at his touch, but lets himself be carried through the streets.
+++
Scott carefully unlocks the door to his small house, pushing the door open with his hip and slipping inside. Mitch keeps his forehead pressed against Scott's shoulder, his eyes closed and his breathing ragged. Scott closes the door behind himself and sets the keys on the counter before readjusting Mitch and carrying him down the hall to his bedroom, gently setting him on the bed and heading to the closet. He grabs a change of clothes for Mitch and turns around to give them to him, but freezes.
Mitch is laying on the bed in only his boxers, shaking and sobbing quietly. He opens his eyes to reveal them in their Omega color and meets Scott's eyes, letting a small sob escape his lips. "P-please be gentle," he whispers brokenly. Scott feels his heart break a bit more and he shakes his head, coming to kneel by the side of the bed and gently taking Mitch's hand. "I'm not going to hurt you, or — or touch you, okay? I promise," he says softly, running his thumb over Mitch's knuckles. Mitch sobs again but nods. "Y-y-yes, s-sir." Scott drops his hand and straightens up, handing him the clothes and turning around with his eyes closed. Mitch wipes his tears and hurriedly changes into them, ignoring the pain that flares everywhere. "Y-you c-can turn around n-now, s-sir," he says softly once he finishes, and Scott turns around to smile weakly at him. Mitch doesn't smile back, curling into a ball and watching him warily.
"Are you hungry?" Scott asks quietly, backing up few steps and watching sadly as Mitch visibly relaxes. Mitch forces himself to get up, his fingers grabbing at his shirt to hide the fact that they're shaking. "I-I'll m-m-make someth-thing right-t away, s-sir," he says quietly, moving past Scott to the door and tensing as Scott grabs his wrist. "I asked if you were hungry." Mitch hesitates, not meeting Scott's eyes. "I... I d-don't know," he says eventually, subconsciously covering his stomach with his free hand.
You certainly don't need food. You're fat enough as it is.
I know.
Scott raises his eyebrow and lets go of Mitch's arm, feeling his heart break a bit more when he immediately wraps it around his stomach. "You don't know if you're hungry?" Scott asks skeptically, and Mitch falters and hugs himself tighter. Scott sighs, closing his eyes for a second as he wills himself not to cry for the small Omega in front of him. Mitch, however, takes him closing his eyes as Scott willing himself not to yell, and feels his eyes fill with tears. "I'm s-sorry, sir. I-I'll g-get b-back on the b-bed," he whispers, and before Scott registers what he said, he's already sitting on the bed and toying with the hem of his shirt. Mitch slowly looks up to meet his eyes. "Do... do y-you want m-m-my c-clothes already off, o-or do y-you want to t-take th-them off yourself?"
Scott stares at him for a long time before shaking his head, not trusting himself to speak. "Yes, sir," Mitch whispers, and starts to take his shirt off, exposing his battered and bruised chest. He only gets about halfway before Scott shakes his head again. "No," is all he manages to say, and Mitch freezes, allowing his shirt to fall back against his chest. "I'm s-sorry, s-sir, I-I th-thought you want-ted th-them a-already o-off," he whispers shakily, averting his eyes and ignoring his heart thumping loudly in his ears. Scott swallows and shakes his head again. "No," he repeats, and Mitch flinches before meeting his eyes again. "H-how do you w-want to t-take m-me, then, s-sir?" he asks quietly, pressing his fingers into the mattress to hide the fact that they're shaking.
Scott comes to Mitch's side, his heart breaking at how Mitch watches him fearfully, and grabs his hand again. Mitch flinches, but reminds himself that he offered and he got himself into this. "Look at me, Mitch," Scott says quietly, finally finding his voice. Mitch hesitates, his muscles tensing visibly, before he slowly looks up to meet Scott's eyes. Scott stares into his eyes, squeezing his fingertips reassuringly. "I told you already. I'm not going to do that to you. Now, I'm going to go get you something to eat. You stay here, alright?" he says gently, and Mitch slowly nods. "Yes, sir," he whispers, and Scott offers him a weak smile before getting up and leaving without another word.
To be continued (maybe possibly).......