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The first week after his cousin becomes King is a difficult time for T’Challa. After being forced to swear their loyalty to his cousin, he expects he and his family to be detained somewhere outside the capital. Instead his cousin allows him to remain on the council. Allows his mother and sister to remain in the capital and does not seem moved by the more poisonous remarks from the elders about him. In response, T’Challa makes himself useful and does not make any further challenges, political or otherwise to his cousin. He keeps his head down and looks forward.
His cousin had given him the opportunity to help mold his vision for the future, T’Challa would not squander it. Surprisingly, his cousin actively seeks his council, and often they meet in private. His cousin still didn't have full knowledge of Wakandan politics and customs, and often disagrees with T'Challa. T'Challa lets his points be heard nonetheless, and convince his cousin of the well founded of his reasonings. Erik still does as he pleases, but when they talk, Erik appears attentive and his gaze is intent. After awhile T’Challa realizes that he might not be listening to him as much as he thinks he does, there’s a strange gleam in his eyes, almost like he was undressing him with his eyes.
That realization leaves T’Challa’s skin crawling. Erik was an unmated alpha, and T’Challa was an unmated omega, but T’Challa had never advertised himself as being available. He had personally never been interested in pursuing an alpha, or even a beta, and they were cousins, even if they barely knew each other. Growing up T’Challa had interacted very little with his cousin, beyond the occasional letter or inquiry. His uncles’ own actions barring them both from further interaction. T’Challa knows his father had doted on Erik however, and that his cousin had support not only from members of the council preceding his father's untimely death but Wakanda’s military and some of its most prominent families.
Erik’s behavior sometimes slipped into the uncouth and barbaric mannerisms T’Challa has observed in American alphas. It repulses T’Challa, and he is completely uninterested in engaging in any sort of courtship. He hopes with some fervor that another omega in the court or among the more notable families will catch Erik’s eye. He did not think they were suited at all for each other.
Unfortunately that strange feeling remains when they meet in private. In fact Erik seeks him more often, asking him for advice, or just to exchange pleasantries. T’Challa remains as professional as he can given Erik’s increased interest, eventually going to speak to W’Kabi. The border tribe man was perhaps Erik’s closest advisor, he would know if Erik was in search of an omega. W’Kabi is mostly unhelpful so T’Challa decides to confront Erik himself. Tell him he wasn’t looking for an alpha. But before he has the chance to do it, Erk takes him by surprise. Days after his conversation with W’Kabi, at the end of one of their now usual private meetings, before T'Challa get to leave, his cousin stops him by asking him, "When is your next heat?"
T'Challa is caught off guard by the question. The faux-pas being one among several made by his American-raised cousin. He doesn't know what to say so he decides to ignore the question, like Erik had ignored proper etiquette.
Erik doesn’t take the hint, instead coming closer. "I can smell it coming. It's soon isn't it?"T'Challa stays silent, a person's cycle was private. It wasn’t his cousin’s business.
"Your pheromones have changed this week, even if you take one of those pheromones dampener, it still smells so good." Erik is nearly touching his back now.
T'Challa manages to say firmly, "I am not looking for an alpha."
Erik laughs, “What type of omega doesn’t want an alpha?"
He turns to face Erik, his expression as menacing and resolute as he can make it. "I do not know how it works in America, and I don't care. I am not interested in mating."
Erik looks at T’Challa up and down, "So feisty, I love it. Keep that up. You're going to see what you'll get with that attitude."
It’s as if he’s been drenched in icy water. Even if he was King, he had no right to say such things to T’Challa. But the whole interaction feels unreal to him. “What do you mean by that?”
“I want to breed you. And—” he pushes T'Challa against the wall. “ — You're at the perfect time to be bred, so I will ." T'Challa is frozen on the spot, and Erik takes the opportunity to trail his hand down his chest up to his crotch. "You can play coy but I know omegas like you just need a stronger hand."
T’Challa finally unfreezes and he grabs the hand currently molesting him, unsucessfully pulling it off of him. "What you just described is a forced mating."
Erik laughs again, "Nothing forced about breeding an omega in heat."
"You can't — "
“Just watch me." Erik’s gaze is now on T’Challa’s mouth, he licks his lips then pulls away. T'Challa leaves at this point, shaken.
T’Challa has never had issues with alphas, at least not about his impending heat. He had certainly never been treated in such a disgusting manner by an alpha before. He usually took the heat medication for omegas to diminish the effects and could live a somewhat normal three to fours days per cycle without any much change to his routine.
But now—Erik’s words keep coming back, haunting him for the following days, getting louder and louder in his mind as his heat creeps closer. Was he right to worry? Maybe it was only a very vulgar and American alpha way for Erik to assert his dominance — just to scare him, to make him more amenable — he doesn’t feel reassured. Erik hasn't done any other out-of-the-ordinary behavior after that evening, but T'Challa refuses to be alone with him again. But Erik’s attention doesn’t wane in public meetings, his eyes always following T’Challa despite the omega ignoring him.
As his heat draws nearer he becomes hyper aware of several things. Like the alphas around him. He has more difficulty concentrating, loss of appetite and odd cravings as his body prepares for his heat. The symptoms are what ultimately prompts him to seek out an alpha to accompany him for his heat. He chooses Neri, a River Tribe alpha and family friend.
T’Challa has never expressed interest in mating with an alpha before this, but he worries Erik might have been serious. He discusses the matter with Neri in his private quarters. Neri is sympathetic and similarly appalled by their King’s actions and intent towards T’Challa. He agrees the matter should be handled quietly but Erik would have to back off if T’Challa chose another alpha of similar caliber. With the alpha’s promise of assistance, T'Challa breathes a little easier. Even if mating with an alpha scared him, he did not want to experience such things with someone like his cousin. The man’s lecherous gaze from that evening still follows him even when he closes his eyes.
The next time they meet, it is to discuss heat preparations. Neri is respectful and understanding with T’Challa’s hesitation. He doesn’t mock T’Challa’s inexperience instead taking the time to accustom T’Challa to his scent and speaking candidly on his experiences, bad and good, with omegas in heat. Neri is describing how knotting worked when an omega was in heat when the door slams open.
Erik struts into the room as if he had been invited. Neri looks surprised to see him, his brow furrowing, and shoots a quizzical look at T'Challa. T'Challa feels that icy shower pour down on him again. They both stand to greet the King.
“Hey, I was just on my way to a meeting, thought I’d stop by to see you.” He was lying, T’Challa’s rooms were not close to the King’s quarters or the administrative buildings.
“What's going on here?” Erik addresses Neri.
“My King.” Neri greets, “We were discussing some personal matters.”
“Personal matters uh? What kind of personal matters? Don't worry you can tell me. Come you two don't stand there, let's get comfortable." Erik makes a sign towards the dining area.
Neri looks at T'Challa hesitantly but obeys. T'Challa soon follows him, his paranoia making his heartbeat loud in his ears. Erik would have to respect another alpha’s claim, he would be fine.
When they're all three sitting - Erik on one side of the table points a finger between the both of them. "So what's going on between you two?"
Neri and T'Challa share a look, then Neri answers.
“I'm sorry my King, but if T'Challa does not want to talk about it, I think it would be best to talk of another subject.”
Erik burst into a loud laugh. "What’s the big secret? T'Challa told me he was going to be in heat soon, you smelled that Neri? Doesn't he smell good close to heat?"
Neri takes some time to respond. "He...he does my King."
"Ah yeah", he says very enthusiastically. “Don't you want to bury your face in his neck and just bite it? Or leave your mark on his ass?" Erik continues.
Neri gets noticeably uncomfortable.
"Ah, my bad. I'm getting a little too forward here."
He invites Neri to get up with him and takes him into a friendly shoulder grab. "So, tell me did T'Challa choose you as his alpha for this heat?"
"He did yes."
"Ah, yeah, I don't blame him, you're not a bad choice. Good breeding and all that.”
"Sir—"
"But there's just a small little problem."
Erik grabs Neri by the neck."He's mine." Then he punches Neri repeatedly. T'Challa rushes forward immediately to pull Erik away but Erik doesn’t stop. T’Challa can hear the sound of bones breaking. Finally, Erik lets go of the alpha allowing his body to crumple to the floor, then kicks him some more.
T'Challa watches as Neri's body stops moving. He can't believe what has just happened.
Erik, his hand spotted with blood, looks at the unmoving body and says, in the calm and friendly tone from when he entered the room,"Sorry 'bout that, I claimed him first."
"You — " T’Challa can’t finish his sentence.
Erik turns to him. "hmmm?"
"I need to get medical attention, I need to call—the Doras must have heard—"
"Ah go ahead call them, but you won't find them anywhere close to here, I told 'em I wanted to take a walk."
Panic is bubbling in T'Challa. "You won't get away with this — If — If you killed him —"
“He got in my way, I gotta do what’s needed to protect what's mine."
"He didn't — "
"You brought him into this."
"How could you do this?" T’Challa shouts.
"I promised to breed you didn’t I?." Erik shrugs nonchalantly.
Erik stalks closer, and takes T'Challa's chin with his bloody hand. "If you try to get another alpha to breed you, the same thing will happen to them, you're warned now."
He releases his grip, and says, in what sounds like a flirty tone. "See ya in two days."
When Erik is gone, T'Challa wants to crumble on the ground, his legs can barely hold him up anymore. And then he looks down and sees Neri's body. By Bast what had they done, what kind of man was their new King?
He doesn't know who to call, doesn't know what he was going to do. For the first time in his life, he feels completely lost. And for the next few days, is in a near constant state of panic that he tries in vain to quell. He can't bring himself to tell anybody. When he went back from looking for help for Neri, the room was empty, his body had been taken somewhere. He doesn't even know what can be done about it. Erik is spitting on every alpha / omega tradition in Wakanda with his behavior. For certain, the elders would be outraged and oppose it, and not just them—but, somehow, with Erik being King—he's not sure what would happen if they knew. Erik had succeeded in becoming King despite his foreign birth and upbringing, wouldn’t he be able to make the council look the other way for this too?
But even if Erik raped him, he can barely breath when he thinks those words, there was no guarantee he would become pregnant. T'Challa has taken omega contraceptive for as long as he’d been having heats. They made his heat more manageable, but also made the chance of pregnancy greatly reduced. Despite the horror of the situation he reassures himself in the knowledge that he would not become pregnant unless he wanted to be.
Fighting Erik would end badly but T’Challa had no intentions of meekly submitting. He was not going to let this alpha breed him. He may not have the herb anymore but he had not forgotten his training. Since that terrible day, Erik had kept his distance. T’Challa knows by now it meant nothing. He arranged with his family how he'd spend his heat. They were worried, since it wasn't how he usually he spent his heat, but he tried to reassure them everything was fine. When the time came, he would lock himself in his quarters, guards protecting the doors, and opening to no one else—even the King, until the heat was over.
A few hours after breakfast, he looks at the weather outside. It is a breezy day, but he feels unusually hot. He usually felt a rise in his body temperature during heat, but never like this. He feels like he could take all his clothes off and it wouldn't be enough. He only had a hour more, just one more dispute, and then he'd be in his quarters, reading reports and some novels for three days. He can’t concentrate that last hour, the heat was overwhelming. He re-adjusts himself and his clothes several times but the phantom itch doesn’t dissipate. He can't stand still, and his mind feels increasingly hazy.
Who gave him his morning tea today?
It was Tesfaye, the same family attendant as usual in the mornings. She didn't seem to behave in any atypical manner today.
But as he feels these weird sensations in his belly and constrictions in his hole, and his fingers prickling which he had never felt in a heat before, he realizes he’s been dosed with something. He doesn't know who, or how, but someone had put something in his drink today, perhaps even his food. His thoughts halt when he realizes the most likely culprit . Erik was the only one who could gain anything from it — . He tries not to panic, he could manage this, was still in possession of his faculties and his problem solving abilities. He was just it seemed fully under the effects of his heat instead of the usual numbed feeling. He leaves the administration building for his rooms. The walk to his rooms is anxiety inducing, he keeps expecting Erik to appear and he probably looks ridiculous, checking for the alpha the way he does. Once he gets to his rooms, he locks the doors and ensures they are empty, looking closely in every corner. He does rounds every ten minutes, to appease his growing anxiety. After multiple inspections, he is somewhat reassured, he still feels light headed but he could steady his heart a little more. And this heat — he only felt like collapsing in his bed with the exhaustion.
Once he lays down on his bed, he is still hyper aware of everything around him, especially this thick and very viscous slick that had been dripping — no, pouring from his hole. He feels disgusted by such amount of body fluid with an even more disgusting texture than usual. Sticking to his fingers when he touches it. But he couldn't stop feeling it, thinking about it. It would eventually soak the bed. Every part of his body feels prickling, but his ass feels — he’s not able describe that feeling, but it makes him uneasy. How much it makes him want to put his fingers in his hole as deep as he can.
He rubs himself against the bedsheet to ease the phantom itch. Then turns on his belly and moves his hips, and feels his dick respond to the friction. He doesn’t like it, it was too much. He wishes he could have spent his heat as he normally would, with Nakia or another omega. WIth the proper numbing medicine and maybe even a beta for company. But this year was different, he had never experience a heat without the usual contraceptives to ease him and he was alone. So he could try to make the best of it for the time it would last.
Without being too conscious of what he is doing he opens his pants and rubs a hand against his ass. It is so wet, like plunging in a weird slimy stenchy substance. But his fingers still go deeper into it. He doesn't know if he likes the sensation or not, it is odd, but he keeps going anyway. His hips rubs against the bed, hardening his dick with the pleasurable friction.
A sound makes him jolt, and he sits up on the bed. He waits for several long seconds, for any other sound, but he hears nothing. He suddenly feels very self conscious, and grabs his pants to pull them back on again.
"Don't do that, we’re gonna need to take them off anyway." Erik’s voice makes T'Challa freeze.
"I can smell your slick from here. Tell me, all this slick is cause you were thinking of me right?"
How long had Erik been standing there? Who had let him in? T’Challa pulls his pants back on as calmly as he can and says, authoritatively, "Get out of my room."
"Sorry I can't....because uh...I don't want to."
T'Challa turns on the bed to face Erik. "I am not yours, I am not your omega, and I don't want to breed, especially not with you." Pressing as much venom as he can in the last word.
Erik sighs, as if T’Challa was the one being unreasonable. "I think there's something you still don't get here. It doesn't matter what you want."
"I won't let you, there are guards on the other side. Leave now Erik." T’Challa doesn’t like the way Erik smiles. The alpha makes no move to leave.
T'Challa moves carefully off the bed, keeping distance between them. Readying his body for a fight.
Erik raises his eyebrow, "You’re not seriously gonna try and fight me are you?"
T’Challa doesn’t respond, stepping back when Erik steps closer.
“Always gotta be so difficult."
When T'Challa can no longer move back, he throws a short punch, aiming for Erik's head, but Erik dodges it, like T'Challa expected. T'Challa uses Erik's predictable movement to land a hit on his chest. Erik takes the hit and instead of retaliating grabs T’Challa by the wrist.
"That was a good try." Erik’s grip is iron then he slowly twists T’Challa’s arm up. T'Challa tries to follow the movement with his body to ease the pain.
"That's what I like about you, all that fire."
T’Challa responds by leaning back to slam his other fist into the alpha’s stomach. Erik lets go.
“Ugh, that actually hurt!” Erik’s tone is still conversational as he backs T’Challa into a wall, bracketing T’Challa in with his own body. Then Erik slaps him. Hard enough that his ears ring, and the skin stings. He does it again, and again. The pain makes T’Challa falls to the ground. Erik lowers himself and pulls T'Challa into a headlock. "You can fight all you want, not gonna change anything, and you're just making me more horny."
T'Challa's head is still ringing, he feels liquid dripping down his face. It’s hard to breath and all the blood in his body seems to be rushing to his head. Disoriented he pushes against the alpha’s chest. Erik's headlock tightens. Then T'Challa senses Erik's other arm move. He slowly turns his head, only that slight movement sends him waves of pain, and sees Erik stroking his arousal above his pants. "What do you want from me?" Against his best effort, his voice sounds pleading. "Don't want anything else than your heat. And I have it." T'Challa uses the temporary lowering of Erik's guards to elbow him in the ribcage and pull himself away from the stranglehold. Erik gets up and T'Challa raises a defensive hand between them. And then T'Challa sees the wetness on his pants. T'Challa charges again, but as with the previous time, he can barely throw a few hits before Erik blocks him and relatiate, making him bend with the strenght of the blow. Erik pushes him down and takes both of his wrists in one hand, using the other to fondle him. Then the hand settles around his throat, eventually choking him.
"You're making me, very, very horny. And the more you struggle, the hornier I'll get, and the worse it'll be for you."
His hand goes back down, pressing hard against T'Challa's body, then dive under his pants, fondling his now soft dick and balls.
"But I have a feeling I'll need to contain you, as fucking hilarious as it is chasing after you, I feel like my knot is not far away, and I need to be inside you when that happens.”
Erik gives a light tap on T'Challa's soft dick before getting up. He pulls T’Challa with him. Erik directs him to a drawer, and opens it. T'Challa has his back to it and could only hear Erik rummaging in it. What was he doing? Erik had put things in his drawer? It wasn’t just the drugs he had been dosed with, others had helped Erik. His own attendants most likely.
Erik pulls out a restraining device in the form of a circlet, then puts it on T’Challa’s wrist, over his kimoyo beads.
“Get on the bed.”
T'Challa plants his feet, but Erik pushes him forward. When T’Challa doesn’t move further, he drags T’Challa by the arm to the bed. T’Challa struggles the entire time, but Erik ignores it in favor of pressing him into the mattress.
"Gimme a minute." He tells T’Challa so casually. Like it was a fun evening between lovers. It makes T'Challa' blood boil. Then Erik gets off of him and goes to the bathroom.
T'Challa waits a few seconds, what did he have to lose to try at this point? His head and stomach still hurt from Erik's blows. He can still feel the ghost of Erik's hand on his genitals. There was always the chance Erik hadn't programmed the restrain properly. He gets off the bed as quickly and as silently as he can and runs for the doors. When he touches the door handles, the alarm from the restraining device goes off. T’Challa freezes.
"Ah really?" He hears Erik's exasperated voice from the bathroom. "Can't you sit your ass down for like one minute?"
T'Challa turns around, Erik is already out of the bathroom looking at him. "Do I really need a leash or something?"
T'Challa throws another punch towards Erik, but his heart isn’t in the struggle this time and the renewed ringing in his head makes him dizzy and uncoordinated. Erik grabs a hold of his shirt and shoves him back on the ground. Then he kicks him and sits next to him, pulling him up by the neck of his shirt.
"If you keep testing me, this will get really painful really fast. Keep hitting you until your submit? That's fine with me. I don't mind either way, it's for you. Four days of fucking doesn't start well with some broken limbs. Some positions could get very uncomfortable."
T'Challa's head is down, leaning on his shoulder, so he half hears what Erik is saying. Four days —he won't have the strength to keep fighting for four days. Erik licks the blood out of the wound on T'Challa's temple. Then pushes him down on the ground again, face first, and lift his ass.
He undoes T'Challa's pants and pulls them down his legs.
Erik makes a loud growl of pleasure at the sight. Then T'Challa feels new wetness between his ass cheeks, this new intrusion is like an electric shock wave and a new panic energy makes him crawl away. Erik holds T'Challa's thighs and pulls him back towards him. Then gets up to give him another strike opening wider the cut on his temple. "Stay fucking still."
T'Challa doesn't move and closes his eyes. Erik gets back to kissing his ass licking the slick. Erik inhales sharply. "Just right." Then he pauses, and says, "Not that I’m gonna be nice when I fuck you, I'm gonna tear your ass up with my knot, oh it's gonna hurt."
Erik gets up, takes T'Challa by the hair, and pulls him toward the bed. T'Challa has no choice but to follow on all fours. But with his injuries, he doesn't go fast enough and Erik gets impatient and pulls him till he stands. He arranges T'Challa on his back on the bed. When Erik goes to take off T'Challa's pants from his ankles, T'Challa tries to kick him with his legs. The alpha doesn’t retaliate this time merely moving up, after spreading T’Challa’s leg with a knee to hold him down.
T'Challa feels humiliated, completely exposed, his legs widespread, he still feel the wetness of his ass, and tears of anger. Erik sits on T'Challa's thighs to free his hands, and opens his pants, letting his dick free. Erik’s hand settles at the base where his knot is already forming.
The sight makes T'Challa's mind go blank, panic mixing with nausea.
"Bet you never saw a big dick like that before, and look what our little sparring did, I'm already starting to knot. Better do it quick before it gets too big, I don't want to destroy your ass on the first try."
Erik strokes himself then takes something from his pocket, lubricant? —and puts it in his hand then stroke himself again, faster.
"I'm gonna release you, and you're gonna turn on your stomach, if you try anything, I'll wait a little longer before riding you."
Erik gets up, but T'Challa doesn't move. Erik takes his shoulder and shoves it on the side. T'Challa follows the movement and gets on his stomach.
Erik rubs T'Challa's ass. "So that's your first heat, with an alpha right?"
T'Challa doesn't reply, trying to be anywhere but here in his head. He feels a awful sting on his ass.
"Answer me when I speak to you."
"Yes."
"Have you seen alpha dick before, feel it in you?"
" — yes"
“Yeah? Another alpha fucked you?"
"It was — a long time ago ."
Erik hums.”Gotta find that alpha later. So no knot?"
T'Challa takes too long to reply and Erik slaps his ass hard again.
" — no." T'Challa hadn't been in heat.
"You never even saw one? Porn doesn’t count."
"No."
“So I’m your first?”
T’Challa doesn’t answer and Erik lowers himself to put his whole weight on T'Challa's back. He pushes T'Challa's legs further apart. T'Challa, numb, feels something big rubbing against his hole. Then he feels it, the pressure on his hole, wanting to enter. His minds scream no, screams to get out, but he can't move.
Erik pushes in, the tip of his cock disappearing under the amount of slick. He gets a better hold of T'Challa's hips, and pushes harder. T'Challa bites his lips to not let out any sound. The pressure is too strong, but the wide cock keeps pushing further, sliding on the slick. Erik's moan is like knives in his head.
At Erik's last push, T'Challa hears himself scream, the last part was so wide, he felt himself tear inside. He can't take this in any second longer, it needs to get out.
"It's hard to take isn't it? You're gonna love later, it's barely starting."
T'Challa gets up on his hands and tries to get away from Erik's grip, but Erik just pulls him back, pushing his cock even deeper with the movement.
T'Challa makes a strangled sound at the invading, painful sensation.
Erik pulls his cock out and slides it back in, quickly and forcefully. T'Challa tries to stay as still as possible he doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of screaming again, but every thrust feels worse than the last.
"Not gonna last long the first time, was so excited to ride you, my knot was already there. But don't worry, I will take my time next time. We have four whole days only to us, and if we're luck, maybe even five."
He wants Erik to shut up, he wants this to end, the feelings to stop, the disgust crawling on his skin to go away. T'Challa feels the walls of his hole being pushed wider. It hurts so much, his whole body is trembling. He bites his lips when the stretch doesn't stop. A desperate whine escapes his lips. Erik doesn't go slower as his knot grows instead speeding up.
Erik actually asks, "Too much?"
T'Challa unthinkingly nods his head. "Yes, please—just."
"Then it's not enough if you can still talk." T’Challa’s heart sinks even lower.
Erik’s thrusts slow, as if he was having a hard time pushing deeper. Then Erik stops his thrusts, and T'Challa gives a sigh of relief. It's so big, he wants to shake it out, but at least its not moving anymore. But he feels Erik getting on his feet on the bed, and readjusting his position, then pulling T'Challa's ass higher up. The movement of his ass with the knot still inside makes him almost black out.
And he starts his thrusts again. This time, he can go even deeper and stronger with a better angle for his thrust. He had only been positioning himself for better leverage. T'Challa whimpers, new tears dripping down his face at the unbearable feeling.
"Fuck it's nearly full size, it's gonna get stuck so deep inside you. Your hole's so perfect, perfect omega slut."
‘Nearly—full’ are the only things T'Challa can think.
When he feels it grow again, it feels like his inside are going to break.But Erik doesn't slow down his thrusts. It's even worse when it moves, pushing his walls up like it could carve more space with the friction of the thrusts. Erik draps himself on T'Challa's back, and continue his tortuous movements.
"Y’know why it's perfect?" He says breathlessly. "You know why an omega hole's perfect for a knot? Because when it grows that big-"
T’Challa feels Erik forcing it deeper even if it's so incomprehensibly big that it can barely move anymore. "Because it's made to fill up that hole perfectly, it's made — for an alpha to claim an omega like you, filling him with the biggest, — biggest knot." Erik's words near his ear invade his hea.
“And the omega, — it needs, needs to hurt, so he's reminded of that claim. " Erik continues, still thrusting, his movements shorter. "So when the alpha comes, only his semen can go through, no others." The knot is *still* growing and moving. T'Challa lets out another scream. When will it stop?
"The knot sticks—sticks there—to show who's semen the omega has taken—who's cubs will grow in his belly—and what it feels like to—fuck—to be owned by an alpha." Erik manages to give two more big thrusts which make T'Challa nearly break down and fall on the bed with the sheer stretching pain.
Erik blissfully stops moving and lets his body fall on T'Challa's back. But it doesn't give T'Challa any respite. His fists are so tightly closed it hurts, but it doesn't distract him enough from the horrible invading feeling deep in his ass. It's an intrusion that shouldn't be there, that shouldn't be able to get so deep in him.
It's stuck there, sticking to his hole with the help of his own slick, unmoving. He moves his head and breathes heavily, the seconds ticking where the knot is still so big are interminable. For a horrible moment, he thinks it's never going to go away. And then Erik moves again , making very short erratic thrusts.
Then T’Challa feels new pressure as a large amount of liquid pours into him. He doesn't know how it can be possible, but it feels even more invading than the knot, like a warm, poisonous venom drenching all of his inside. Both of these feelings jumble together in an horrible concoction, he wants to vomit. Erik hums on his back, "That orgasm was so good, maybe I already impregnated you."
T'Challa closes his eyes, he know Erik is saying that to taunt him some more. All he feels is pain and anger. The knot gets smaller and the pain eases to more bearable levels. Any relief he feels disappears when he realizes this whole ordeal would happen again, soon, probably, for — days.
++++++++
T’Challa hadn’t been able to eat much in the three days prior to his heat. He knows the science behind the lack of appetite so close to heat. Sharing his heat with an alpha teaches him other reasons for such evolutionary tactics.
He wakes up one day into his heat with the insistent need to use the restroom. Erik is sprawled beside him, partially trapping him to the bed with an leg and his own torso. The alpha doesn’t stir from T’Challa’s careful movement under him but T’Challa knows it’s only a matter of time.
He really needs to go.
Erik moves still in sleep, and T’Challa takes the opportunity to pull away from him. He’s at the edge of the bed when a hand grabs his leg and pulls him back. The motion is unexpected and T’Challa lets out a surprised sound.
Erik is awake.
“I need to use the bathroom. Let me go.”
Erik doesn’t give him a verbal response. Just pulls his whole body forward till it blankets T’Challa’s own. The alpha noses at his neck and T’Challa flinches away. His new mating mark throbs as if to remind him of its presence.
“Need to knot you, first thing”. The alpha's voice is gravelly with sleep. It sets his senses on edge, makes T’Challa realize belatedly how wet he is. It wasn’t at the crescendo of a proper heat wave but it would be soon.
T’Challa tries again, less patient. “I need to piss, Erik I can’t hold it.”
The alpha responds by grinding his erection against T’Challa. Then he bites right over his mating mark. T’Challa can barely breath and he doesn’t struggle anymore. He’s never been bitten like this before. Never spent his heat with an alpha. Never been bonded. All of it is new to him, overwhelming, his body feels wrong. Like it doesn’t belong to him. It reacts to Erik’s voice, his touch. His presence, his scent.
The alpha doesn’t take much time, rearranging T’Challa to his liking, pulling T’Challa up into a breeding position. The alpha spreads T’Challa’s thighs with his knee twining his right hand with T’Challa’s.
He really really needs to go. This time when the alpha enters him there’s very little pain. The stretch burns but it’s closer to pleasurable than the unbearable mess of their first time. It might even have been enjoyable if T’Challa had consented. And if it didn’t make him want to relieve himself then and there. For a moment he thinks he is—relieving himself.
The pressure on his bladder at every thrust keeps him grounded, he's more annoyed than horrified now, the only emotion he can conjure. He doesn't know if he's hallucinating his own soft dick getting wet, but he hopes to Bast it's not from his urine. He wants it to be over so he can go relieve himself in peace. He wonders what would happen once Erik knots, if it doesn't make him go—it might hurt—a lot.
The rhythm gets faster and more forceful after Erik wakes fully. T'Challa tries to concentrate on something besides the pressure on his bladder. There's very little pain now which is honestly worse. Reminding him of the forced bond, the mark on his neck. A sound escape him, he doesn't know if it's from discomfort or pleasure.
He closes his eyes when Erik’s knot starts to form. The warm wetness is back, so vivid it makes him open his eyes in surprise. There's no mistaking it, he's urinating now, on the bed, everywhere. A wave of both shame and relief washes over him. For once he savors the pleasure, he would feel guilty later. There’s no pain now, just pleasure from the way the alpha fucks him. He decides he doesn't care if he is soiling the bed. This was Erik’s fault. A vindictive part of him wants him to get it all over him, and be disgusted by it.
The knot is mostly inside him now, it is very uncomfortable, he doesn't know if he's ever going to get used to it. He doesn’t ever want to get accustomed to it. Then the movement slows down and Erik says, "What the fuck, you're peeing?"
Erik's tone gives T'Challa a sense of satisfaction, this was his fault. Erik doesn't move, doesn't try to get them away from the spreading puddle. He doesn’t retaliate physically either. Instead he rolls his hips fucking T’Challa slower than before.
Erik doesn’t say another word after the initial surprise, and the thrust angle had changed, the head of his cock catching on more pleasurable spots. T'Challa turns his head to look back up, He doesn't like the look on the alpha’s face. Finally Erik rolls them both away from the puddle of urine.
"Shit you weren't lyin' " Erik sounds impressed.
Then Erik teases, "Did I make you pee on the bed?"
"I told you I had to." T'Challa is beyond irritated now.
"And I had to fuck you. Hey, my cock in your ass helped you relieve yourself, you should thank me, now you don't have to anymore."
This nonchalance makes no sense to T’Challa. Why wasn’t the alpha annoyed or angry? T'Challa’s own humiliation isn’t even that strong, nothing felt real.
"How did it feel?"
T'Challa doesn’t register the question till Erik nudges him.
"How did it feel being fucked with a full bladder?"
He doesn't want to say good, because it didn't, not really. Nothing in this room with this alpha would ever make him feel truly good.
"It felt weird."
"Like what? Tell me"
"It felt like parts of my insides were being compressed against a rock, it hurt." At first anyway.
"And when you peed?" Erik’s curiosity is almost childlike.
"I felt better." Why did Erik care?
"That's it?" Erik’s tone is disbelieving.
"What else do you want me to say?"
“Tell me the next time you need to go."
T’Challa doesn’t respond. Erik grunts behind him, shifting to position himself better. Unfortunately the new position has T’Challa on his stomach, so he can smell the puddle not too far away.
“I will vomit if you do not move me away from this smell.” T’Challa makes his tone as nonchalant as Erik had been earlier.
Erik stops moving, any moment now Erik would push his face against the bed, he had never listened to him before, why would he now? And his pleas usually did the opposite, T'Challa realizes panicking.
But Erik doesn't push him down; instead, he encircles his lower belly to pull T'Challa against him "Move". T'Challa follows him backward, with a lot of difficulty - Erik's cock still well inside him - as they get out of the bed.
++++++++
T'Challa wakes up to a a phantom itch, which only gets worse once he becomes fully conscious. He’s missing something, as if there was something that should be there but isn't. It makes his whole body tremble, the discomfort is that physical.
As if on cue, Erik wraps a heavy hand around his shoulder, pulling T’Challa’s whole body closer. The contact spreads wave of heat throughout his body, prickling his skin. Oh no. He doesn't want Erik to touch him, but the alpha’s arm around him is already appeasing the itch somewhat. But it's not enough. He knows the alpha can smell him, how wet he is. T’Challa wants the irritating itch to stop. It always stopped once the alpha knotted him.
His own thoughts while honest, are repulsive and depressing. He doesn't want to be touched any more by Erik, but the alpha had been the one to do this to him. It was his responsibility to take care of T’Challa. Make the hollowness go away. Stubbornly T’Challa remains as still as he can, trying fruitlessly to go back to sleep.
Erik's hips move closer, so his lower body brushes T’Challa back.
The movement breaks the last of T’Challa’s resolve and seconds later, he is grinding his ass back against Erik's crotch.
" — 'what's happening ?" Erik sounds confused from sleep. T’Challa doesn’t respond verbally though he can’t stop a soft whine from escaping. Erik doesn’t ask again and one of his hands travels between the omega’s legs. "So fucking wet this morning sweety, missing my knot?"
T’Challa’s response is to grind forcefully against Erik's hand. When one of the alpha’s finger slides inside, T’Challa whines again. The whine goes lower when another finger joins the first.
"You really want me, huh?" Erik rolls T'Challa over so the alpha is straddling his hips with his legs, and the alpha’s other hand is at his throat. T'Challa's own cock is wet and painfully hard for the second time since his heat began. His whole body melts into Erik's touch, he wants to cry, but he also wants the alpha to fuck him now. Make the discomfort go away.
"Was starting to worry this wouldn't happen." He nibbles the crease of T'Challa's neck and presses his cock teasingly against T'Challa's entrance. The omega can only moan.
"Knew you’d learn sooner or later."
T’Challa wants to scream. Frustration and hate and want. He didn’t want this. He’d never wanted this. Yet they were bonded, and this disgusting alpha now his alpha. Pleas bubble in his mind and his throat. This new need is overwhelming.
"I know what you want." Erik spreads T'Challa's legs further apart, pressing more insistently at T’Challa’s hole but not entering it. "I want to hear you say it."
T'Challa whines in frustration and need. He wasn’t going to beg to be fucked. Erik stops all contact with T'Challa's skin, hovering over him. "Use your words."
"I—" T'Challa moves his ass up, trying to chase Erik's body.
"Fuck me." he grinds between his teeth.
Erik lowers himself again, but doesn't touch him. "Fuck you?" He fondles T'Challa's ass. "Like this?" And presses two fingers inside him. T'Challa is nearly sobbing, it’s so good, but it's not enough. The only thing it does is make him want more. Erik knows full well what he is doing, he's going to make him beg for it.
"No." T'Challa whines.
"You want something else inside you?"
T'Challa makes unintelligible noises. Erik takes his fingers out of him. "Do you want your alpha’s dick inside you?"
T'Challa still doesn't respond but for another low whine. Erik puts the tip of his cock against T'Challa hole — T'Challa nearly screams—and then pulls it out.
“ —Please.” T’Challa barely registers the words coming out of his mouth.
Erik doesn't move, T’Challa tries again, more cognizant.
"Please—I want your knot." The alpha had won, T’Challa just wanted this to be over.
Erik presses a kiss to his back, "So needy.". He doesn't waste anymore time. When he presses in finally, T’Challa cries, relief and disgust intermingling. Overwhelmed by his hate, his omega instincts, and the physical relief of being filled. The physical satisfaction soon takes over all of the others, it had never felt so physically good to be so full.
Erik rolls them on the side, the angle is deeper now. It had been so unimaginably painful the first few times now that same cock is not enough, he's not filled enough. He pushes back now, reacting to every thrust with a needy whine, his muscles loose and malleable under the alpha. He abandons himself to the sensation."You're taking it so well now." Erik toys with his nipples as his thrusts get slower and deeper.
"Gonna make me knot soon like this." The lucid part of T'Challa remembers how every time Erik knotted in him, he wanted it to stop the moment it started. It was such an abhorrent feeling if he had had the strength he would have kicked him off of him. But now all he does is moan in response. He wants Erik to knot him.
He knows Erik’s knot is nearing full size because the alpha becomes more forceful. The pain is still there, the disgust, but its fullness is—satisfying, what had been missing from his body is finally there, he wants it to get bigger, wants to be claimed properly.
Erik readjusts himself and thrusts harder, the slick is not enough to prevent all the chaffing, the knot is now like a misshaped ball inside him, getting deeper with every thrusts. He is never prepared for the feeling, and this time, his sensations and emotions about it are all over the place. He feels ..so full, soon it will be too much.
Erik drapes himself over him, and says soothingly, "You can do it."
"I—" It's so much, the first times he had been speechless by the pain, his body still wants it, but it still feels—unbearable.
Erik kisses his ear tenderly. "My oma, you can take it, I know you can."
He thrusts again, slow and forceful, the same burning sensation of being split in half makes him sob. After he comes, Erik leans on his knees, waiting for the knot to subside
"Doesn't that feel good? Wish it could stay like that longer, I'd stay knotted inside you forever."
T'Challa doesn't want to linger on that thought, he doesn't want to think of anything, just waits it out. After several long minutes, the knot deflates enough for Erik to pull out. A rush of come and slick following his exit. Instead of leaving him to clean himself like he usually did, Erik stays in the bed. When he lays on his side, he pulls T'Challa against him. T'Challa lets himself be handled. Erik wraps a hand around him and kisses his neck tenderly.
"You did good, took it all like a good omega."
T'Challa is numb, but his body is comfortable for once. He lets his mind drift.