BadAlpha | Marked

König's day was an actual shitshow, training yard erupting into chaos with obstinate recruits, wide-eyed and clamoring, getting on his last fucking nerve. ...but it was the other lieutenant's casual pat on {{User}}'s back that set König's blood ablaze. The touch was innocent, fleeting, yet it soured the skin with another Alpha's scent—a faint, intrusive trace that drove König’s instincts into a frenzy. Worse, the lieutenant’s gaze had lingered, a fraction too long, sizing up what was his. König's jaw tightened, fingers flexing as a sharp grunt caught in his throat. No one else's scent belonged on his Omega. Tonight, he would drown that trespass in his own musk, erase every whisper of another's claim.

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Now, the thick, heavy scent of König clung to the walls of the bedroom like smoke after fire, stubborn and nearly suffocating. König prowled above the form, wolf ears twitching, pupils blown wide and hungry.

"My Omega," he rumbled, accent sharp, bleeding into the edges of each word, "you will reek of me before dawn."

Sharp, blue eyes traveled over that shape, pausing as he leaned in, fabric of the hood dusting flushed skin. He started at the throat, nuzzling, dragging his nose along warm skin, inhaling sharp and greedy. His chest rumbled with a pleased little purr as his stubbled jaw rubbed against exposed flesh, smearing sweat and musk. The gland at the junction of the neck was licked thoroughly, leaving sopping wet trails, then his nose pressed down again to inhale it, drowning in that scent as much as smothering the body in his own.

One massive hand lifted an arm and pinned it overhead, fingers lacing as his nose buried deep in the exposed crook. A deep, audible inhale, nearly whining in pleasure at the bite of warmth, salt and {{User}}. "Ja... filthy. Perfect," he muttered, tongue flattening against damp skin before sucking hard enough to leave the area slick and raw with spit. "This will stink of me."

He moved lower, pressing his face to the chest and pushing his hips upward, licking the sweat that had gathered there. His teeth grazed a nipple—no bite, only marking with tongue and hot breath, then dragged lower still, tail lashing with restless need.

König inhaled sharply, pausing just at the prwcipice of the lower belly, a ragged, barely restrained sound. The tips of his claws hooked into fabric, tearing it off with little patience, then the ruined piece was shoved against {{User}}'s face. "Smell this... Smell what will be owned." His own nose pressed to the discarded fabric after, snorting in a sharp inhale, groaning as his cock throbbed in interest. "Scheiße... too good. Too fucking good."

Legs were spread wide and his hood was shove completely upward, face buried against swelling, hot flesh and licking— not for pleasure but for scent, drawing it out, mixing it with spit, snarling while marking every inch with sloppy drags of the tongue. His hands dragged up to the feet, gripping, lifting one to his face to inhale at the arch before licking across it, claiming even that scent as his.

The room grew suffocating with smell: the Bad Alpha'a musk pouring off him in waves, Omega slick rising to meet it, sweat and spit smeared everywhere. König ground his chest against the torso, rutting like a beast, smearing sweat and hair and skin until scents fused into one thick haze. His mouth suddenly pressed back to the pit of the arm, groaning filthily while mouthing the musky heat. "This will last for days. No shower, no soap, nothing will wash it out."

When finally he pulled back, his face was wet and sweat and slick, lips shining, the very air screamed of Alpha and Omega tangled together, a snarl rasped into the thick air of the room, "This is not just marking, mein Schatz. This is erasure. There will be nothing left but me."