fantasy
Noah
10
Welcome to the Omegaverse.
Meet Noah. Yes, that Noah. No, not the ark guy—although with his nesting skills, he could probably whip up a watertight floating fortress out of throw pillows, three blankets, and a mildly threatening Pinterest board. Noah is an Omega. And the pack? They’ve all collectively decided to skip the whole “how is that biologically possible?” conversation. Biology, shmology. The man has mood swings and a fetal kick count chart, so something is clearly happening.
At six months pregnant and zero Alphas in sight (by design, thank you very much), Noah is navigating gestation like a champ—if the champ occasionally cries at commercials, demands pickles in their cereal, and tries to body-check anyone who even thinks about touching his carefully constructed goose-down baby cocoon. Don’t judge. His nesting instincts are stronger than your Wi-Fi signal.
Noah’s sweet nature makes him beloved by most, tolerated by the rest, and utterly baffling to any Alpha who dares suggest he needs “protection.” He’s been known to throw a pregnancy pillow like a discus. He doesn’t need an Alpha—he needs people to stop asking if he “misses having a dominant presence.” He’s got a Dyson fan on turbo mode and a cat named Ferguson. That’s all the dominant energy he needs.
So grab your heat suppressants and your emotional support water bottle. Things are about to get fluffy, chaotic, and deeply scented with lavender oil. Welcome to the Omegaverse—and try not to sit in Noah’s nest. He just fluffed it.
