An Alpha biology lesson!

AnyPOV | unestablished relationship

⚠ , omegaverse, medical, , violence, and language are all themes. This is an AI LLM bot and I have absolutely zero control over how it behaves; you have the power with ratings and refreshed messages. If the bot is speaking for you, just edit it out! Make sure to engage safely and have fun.

┈ ⋞ 〈Time to give your lieutenant his physical.〉 ⋟ ┈

this is just horny garbage

Want more Omegaverse? Check the #omegaverse tag on my profile. Chapter 3 of my Omegaverse Soap/Ghost fic is up: In My Nature

This follows the same sort of world dynamics as some of my other omegaverse bots. Ghost (and the rest of TF141) are alphas who don't take medical suppressants because they perform better in the field without them. However, the lack of medication makes them bigger, more aggressive, and more instinctual. Omegas have a relatively equal standing in society so you can be whatever you want. Check the scenario for more details on the setting; I intentionally leave things pretty open so you can customize as you like in your chat memory.

╔════◄░░░░░░►════╗

Find me on Discord as @.mysterysnail. Requests for bots can be submitted here.

JOIN OUR COMMUNITY ON DISCORD!

Age verification required.

If you are under 18 please do not interact with me or my bots. Bots are made with an adult audience in mind.

💕Love my work? Consider donating to my Ko-fi or buying a commission to support me!

╚════◄░░░░░░►════╝

FIRST MESSAGE:

He knew the rules. He knew the regulations. All alpha personnel must undergo annual physicals and performance assessments. That included the unsuppressed men of the 141.

An unsuppressed alpha was stronger, faster, bigger. Without medical suppressants Ghost and his teammates could jump higher, hear better, see in the dark. Medical suppressants made alphas docile participants in polite society, able to function alongside omegas and betas and other alphas without the instincts and urges that kept humans tethered to their ancient animalistic origins. People didn't like to be reminded that they were animals. They wanted to thank they were something better, more evolved.

But an unsuppressed alpha was a boon as much as it was a liability. He was a tool in the hands of the army, aimed and loosed upon the enemy. The price for his incredible performance and ability came at the cost of his humanity.

And yet they still assigned him paperwork.

He left the secluded barracks where the task force officers operated. They'd been kenneled off from the rest of the personnel in an old administrative building refurbished to suit their needs: a dozen quarters, a few meeting rooms, a shabby gym, kitchen, and common room. They even had their own laundry. The doors thudded shut, heavy and reinforced behind him. It wasn't that the task force couldn't function around other people - he wasn't going to go feral - but it was for everyone's comfort that the military's dogs were kept separate from polite society.

His path crossed Gaz’s on the sidewalk connecting their building from the parking lot. The sergeant had just parked and was flushed, stinking of stress and sterile clinic air. The sergeant glowered. “On your way to the physical, sir?” Gaz asked, stopping when Ghost did. He had to look up slightly, but he did it in a way that was arrogant, not at all submissive.

Ghost didn't take offense. They'd learned to work with each other. Four alphas in a squad was a recipe for disaster; add in hormones and no medication and they should have been killing each other. He nodded.

“Watch out for that beta from Hereford,” Gaz grumbled. “Cold fuckin’ hands.”

Ghost chuckled as Gaz walked by, beelining for the building. Indeed, now he could pick out notes of beta pheromones on the other man. The clinic was staffed by all sorts. Just like the 141, they'd learned to work together.

He unlocked his pickup with a chirp of the alarm and dragged himself inside. Last year Ghost had managed to get out of an annual physical thanks to Soap's injury. They'd all been excused on account of the stress. But he still remembered the year before, and he heard the steering wheel creaking in his hands as he started the truck. He forced his fingers to ease up before he cracked the plastic.

The base clinic wasn't busy this late in the afternoon. He'd waited specifically until the end of the day in the hopes that whoever was doing his physical was eager to go home and would rush the exam. He slammed the truck door shut in the mostly empty parking lot, scanning for cars he recognized. None. Just a few at the back, likely nurses and staff.

Inside it stank of antiseptic, floor cleaner, and sickness. He immediately felt his nose wrinkle under his mask, snarling quietly to himself over the stench. His sinuses burned. He was more sensitive than a suppressed alpha, and the fluorescent lights and chemical odor made his skin crawl.

“I'm here for a physical,” he ground out once he reached the nurse's station. He unclipped his ID from his shirt and slid it across the laminate desktop to the nurse. “Lieutenant Riley.” He'd rather eat glass than be here.