Chapter Text
Riddle had to grudgingly admit that Crewel giving him a couple of orgasms made it remarkably easier to return to basic functioning.
The next few days were much easier as his body seemed to accumulate less tension. He slept better and had no trouble focusing on his studies and other duties anymore. As much as he’d been trying to fight against any of it having more than a legal effect on his life, he supposed an entire shift in his biology was going to affect him somewhat.
It aggravated him to not know the difference between himself and the hormones.
Riddle mused over it while reading in the library, eyebrows furrowed.
Some of it made perfect sense. His arrangement with Crewel was a safety net to ensure his continued education and, if necessary, a literal getaway plan from his family. Of course his presence would feel calming to Riddle as the manifestation of his freedom to live his own life. He’d always sought to impress his instructors and found no reason for that drive to dissipate simply because he’d also requested for Crewel to put a claim on him.
Other parts…
Riddle did his best to not dwell on the scene in Crewel’s office, wary of making the heat and arousal come flooding back. He’d enjoyed every bit of it more than he’d possibly imagined he could, but the blip of fantasy his mind had so rebelliously provided had shocked him.
Being laid across the desk in his view, body able to take Crewel’s cock with this much ease, held down and utterly at Crewel’s mercy again.
Where had that come from?
As an instinctive escalation of the acts they’d already been doing, it shouldn’t bother Riddle.
However, as an omega desperately trying to avoid a potential arranged marriage, it only sowed doubt.
Maybe he was wrong to be doing any of this.
Maybe his parents would be right.
Maybe he should’ve told them and let whatever happened happen if his body was only going to insist on it.
Riddle swallowed hard, hand trembling slightly as he automatically took notes he didn’t even need from the text on fire magic. He excelled in anything he put his mind to. It wasn’t arrogance to say as much; it was merely a fact.
What if he was supposed to go home, be sent away, and become a parent by the time he was nineteen? Wouldn’t he be good at that too? What if that was best?
He blinked his eyes rapidly, vision blurring. Tears burned at the corner of his eyes and he was aware of his chest shallowly rising as falling, air barely entering his throat. Distantly, he knew he was having a panic attack and beginning to hyperventilate, but his ability to force himself to calm down had vanished.
But he’d obeyed the rules.
He had different rules now, and those rules allowed him to ask an alpha for their claim. Those rules made him something to be owned and fought over. He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong!
In a twisted sense, one could argue he’d done their parents’ jobs for them, except he knew they wouldn’t have chosen Crewel. They’d want someone less eccentric, to start. Someone who seemed respectable and old-fashioned, not Crewel with his quirky, striking appearance that changed with fashion trends taken to a haute couture extreme. A traditional, powerful mage, preferably a healer, too. Someone dead set on having children. Someone who would compensate them handsomely. Someone with a large family to bolster their own status with.
Someone who wouldn’t let Riddle go.
They probably wouldn’t find Crewel’s raw magic lacking, or even his style of discipline, but Crewel was far from the sort of person his parents socialized with.
The idea of them meeting almost made Riddle want to hysterically laugh through his tears.
He was bitterly comforted by the idea of his body being worth substantially less after he’d get Crewel to sleep with him.
Those were the rules.
He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong.
“Housewarden?”
Riddle jumped, slamming his knee up against the table as a soft, concerned voice reached his ears. He sniffled, hot tears rolling down his face, obscuring the orange haired person he knew in front of him to be Cater. He waved his hand, hiding his face in his sleeve as he desperately tried to stop crying. “I’m fine. Stress.”
“Hey hey, it’s okay.” A warm arm around his shoulders helped steady him, but Riddle was still far from composed. “Do you wanna get out of here, go for a walk?” suggested Cater, gently rubbing Riddle’s shoulder.
He hated feeling so weak, as though everyone Riddle knew was supposed to start worrying about him. It made him feel like everything people said about omegas was right. He shouldn’t need to be coddled if it was true that being an omega didn’t matter.
But he didn’t want anyone else to see him crying in the library, so he nodded mutely and let Cater lead him out.
Cater led him out to the woods at the edge of campus, away from where most students would be. He made a duplicate of himself as they walked, the two Caters waving cheerily to each other as they split up. “A sentry,” explained Cater. “I want us to have some privacy.”
“Thank you,” said Riddle, voice thick from his breakdown.
They sat down on a downed log in the woods. Birds sang and sunlight streamed through the leaves above, as though the forest itself wanted to heal Riddle’s emotional wounds. It did little to ease his worries, but he still soaked in the atmosphere.
“So. What’s up?” asked Cater.
Riddle swung his legs idly. “Exam stress.”
“Awww, Riddle.” Cater nudged him playfully. “You’re a horrible liar.”
Oh no. Riddle looked away from Cater’s bright, prying eyes. “It’s not easy being the best student in school.”
“Hmmhmm. If it was academic stress, you wouldn’t have been jotting down spells you could do in your sleep. For all I know, you have done them in your sleep,” Cater joked. “So, you don’t have to tell Cay-Cay anything, but I can’t do much if you don’t let your bestie try to hear you out.”
Riddle sighed and curled in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest. He felt so small again, like he could will himself into disappearing if only his mind ceased its eternal racing. He didn’t have to tell the full truth. “I… I find myself wanting to do something my parents wouldn’t want me to do.”
“Hell yeah.”
“Not ‘hell yeah’!” exclaimed Riddle. “They’re both healers and have always assumed that I’ll follow in their legacy. It’s been determined for me since I was born, perhaps even before then. However, I feel more drawn to studying law.”
“Uhhhh.” Cater shrugged. “Sounds cool? Like, they’re the two top difficult careers, man. Never heard of someone being like, ‘Isn’t it awful? My kid’s a highly successful lawyer.’ Like, hello.”
Riddle shook his head adamantly. “You don’t get it. I’ve had magic lessons since I was three, all with the intent of becoming a healer.”
“Hey bro, have you ever heard of the sunk cost fallacy?”
Riddle scowled. “Of course.”
“Yeah. So it’s called that cause it’s a #fallacy.” Cater cut Riddle off before Riddle could rebuttal. “So anything you have to say about how you absolutely have to do this or that just isn’t gonna fly.”
Perhaps it was a fallacy, but Riddle still couldn’t imagine throwing away an entire life of preparation.
His stomach lurched when he realized that’s exactly what his parents would do if he told them about presenting as an omega. All of that honing would instead make him a stepping stone for someone else’s life, obedient and yielding to everything a future alpha demanded.
Cater didn’t need to know that, but it made acid rise up in Riddle’s stomach.
“Woah, woah, no puking,” said Cater, steadying Riddle with alarm. “It’s really really hard for you to stand up to them, but it’s your life, not theirs. You gotta own it.”
Riddle didn’t. He literally didn’t.
Omegas were rare, but them having careers and lives outside of the home was common. Some were working parents, some simply didn’t have children at all despite the societal expectation. It was only in certain pockets of society where Riddle would be held to much older, crueler standards still in the written law, but his opinion didn’t matter. It was what it was.
He unwillingly let out a broken sob. “How will I know if I do the right thing? How?!”
Cater pondered it. He took Riddle’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. “You wanna know the Cater golden standard? You might feel terrified, but you know you’d regret it more if you didn’t do it. I think you’d regret not going for what you actually wanna study. That’s the whole point of the fourth year internships, yanno?”
That was the same advice Riddle would have given to any other anxious student in his dorm.
It still didn’t feel like it should apply to him.
“Thank you,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry for all of this.”
“Hey, no worries.” Cater shot him a charming smile. “Talking it out isn’t so bad, huh? Kinda nice to be able to level with you, honestly.”
They weren’t leveling, but it still helped.
Riddle stood up, feeling like he could face the day. “Let’s go.”
-~-
The highlight of Riddle’s day was going to Crewel’s office.
He knocked and let himself in, already calmed down as he crossed the threshold. Crewel’s scent faintly filled his nose, signaling that he was safe.
Once again, he was ashamed to surrender to the feeling, but he needed it so badly that he didn’t want to fight it. Maybe there were parts of being an omega that weren’t so bad, but it wore into his insecurities.
Crewel turned away from organizing a shelf of supplies, smiling at Riddle. “Evening, Rosehearts.” He came closer, holding Riddle’s waist, examining his face. “Are you alright?”
Riddle sighed. He leaned against Crewel’s chest, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around him. His chest was broad and warm against Riddle’s cheek, drawing him in like a magnetic pull. Crewel returned the hug, fur coat sweeping around Riddle with its reassuring weight. “I’m better now,” mumbled Riddle.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Riddle was still worn out from the incident in the library. “It’s things like this,” he said, the guilt resurfacing. “These changes. The more it seems like I’m acting like an omega, the more I wonder if I’m wrong. Maybe I should tell my parents—”
“Drop it,” commanded Crewel. “If there’s even a chance of you being married off against your will, you’re not going back.”
“I’m proving that they’re right!” Riddle blurted out.
“About what?!” snapped Crewel. “That you have any needs at all? That you want someone to care about you? Do you think that not facing everything alone is such a punishable offense that you should give up your life?!”
Yes.
Yes, Riddle felt that way.
Riddle stilled, tears welling up in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Crewel hugged him tighter. “I shouldn’t have shouted. Riddle, I’m so sorry. Please tell me what you need.” He kissed the top of Riddle’s head, gently rubbing Riddle’s back as he tried to soothe him.
Riddle took a breath, trembling and letting out a whimper on the exhale. He burrowed closer against Crewel, craving the comfort like he was starving for it.
“You.” Crewel’s breath hitched. Riddle didn’t want to cry twice in one day, not like this, but he couldn’t stop it. “But I’m scared it’s just because of being an omega, and I don’t know what to do!”
Crewel kept Riddle close, letting him cry and lean on him. “Is it about wanting me, or wanting anyone? Needing affection and company is part of being human, not being an omega specifically.”
“I’m not supposed to,” mumbled Riddle into Crewel’s tearstrained vest.
“Rosehearts?”
“Hm?”
“That’s absurd.”
Riddle didn’t have any real response to that.
“Well, you do need people.” Crewel huffed. “Perhaps presenting was a catalyst for this sort of relationship, but the need was always there, pup. It simply got too intense for you to ignore it anymore. You haven’t radically changed just because you know you’re an omega.”
Riddle sniffled and tried to accept Crewel’s words as true. He could remember reaching for his mother for comfort while he cried, crying even harder when she slapped his hand away, leaving him alone as part of his punishment.
Maybe he’d always needed this.
“Are you upset with me?” whispered Riddle.
“No, sweetheart,” murmured Crewel. “Not at all. Upset on your behalf, if anything.”
Sweetheart. The new pet name made Riddle blush.
“I had a panic attack earlier,” admitted Riddle. “Thinking about what could happen to me if I went home.”
“It won’t happen.” Crewel pet Riddle’s hair. “Thank you for letting me know what you’ve been going through. Do you want a few sensory objects to help in case you have flare ups? Actually, I don’t know why I’m asking. You’re getting some anyway, along with a calming potion.”
Riddle managed to smile. “Okay. Thank you.”
Crewel stepped back out of their hug, laying his hands on Riddle’s shoulders. His expression was fond, but still concerned. “I have something else for you, although I don’t want to overwhelm you. It may help.”
“Sure.”
“Hm. But it comes with a condition. I need you to promise me something.”
Riddle’s heart pounded. “What would that be?”
Crewel pet Riddle’s cheek. Riddle leaned into it immediately, letting Crewel wipe away his tears. “Promise that you’ll tell me no when you don’t want to do something. I don’t care that I’m your alpha. I still need consent from you.”
“I can do that. I already protested when something was too much yesterday.”
“Sure.” Crewel grimaced. “And the first time you came in here, you practically offered for me to take you then and there if I wanted to. Forgive me for doubting that you’ll always speak up.”
He had a point. Riddle weighed the two rules in his mind, one believing Crewel technically had the right to ask most anything of him, and the other pointing out that what Crewel was asking for was Riddle’s opinions and wants, so Riddle had to give them. “Alright. I promise to be honest.”
Crewel kissed Riddle, soft and light. “Good boy.”
Riddle’s chest filled with a warm glow at the praise.
Crewel dug around in a locked box of rare ingredients, pulling out a smaller box. “It’s not potion components,” he said, smirking. “Come here.”
Riddle approached him automatically, eyes fixed on the box.
Crewel opened it with a flourish.
“Just for you, pup.”
A red leather collar sat on the cushioned inside of the box. Riddle stared, taking it in his hands. There were the usual magic sigils embossed around the collar, with additional decorative elements to make the entire thing beautiful, the sigils flowing seamlessly into floral motifs. The inside of it was soft and padded, with enough give that Riddle would have no issue changing his scent patches. It was finished with a golden buckle that he knew would disappear once Crewel secured it on him, requiring specific, precise magic to break.
“You got this for me? So quickly?” marveled Riddle.
“It’s an urgent situation, so yes.” Crewel lifted it out of Riddle’s hands, tracing the embossed texture. “This won’t come off easily, as you know. It shields your neck from a bonding bite, and it’s a signal to anyone who sees it that either your family has protection over you or an alpha does.”
With the exuberance of the designs, it was clearly a collar made for someone precious. A collar for a chosen mate, not a plain placeholder for a child.
Sevens, Riddle's emotions felt like they’d been haywire all day. He sniffled again, rubbing his eyes. “It’s beautiful. Thank you. I… feel like I should at least partially pay you for it.”
“Nonsense. It’s a gift.” Crewel proudly unbuckled it. “I designed the exterior of it myself. I’m pleased that you like it so much.”
He’d done what? Riddle realized why Crewel was worried about him being overwhelmed. He wiped his eyes again, laughing a bit through a sob. It had been one of the worst weeks of his life, and Crewel was going out of his way to make him feel special. “It’s a shame I’ll be hiding it so often.”
Crewel chuckled. “Yes, a shame indeed, but it succeeds in its purpose.” He regained his seriousness again. “Are you sure you’re ready? Any last concerns?”
“P. E. will be a bit stuffy with the outer shirt zipped up all the way, but I’ll be fine.” Riddle had thought through everything. “The quick change spell is easy enough for me to do. I haven’t had to change in the locker rooms for over a year anyway.”
Nodding, Crewel pressed, “And if someone happens to see it? You’re comfortable with people seeing you’re claimed?”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
“Alright.” Crewel unbuttoned Riddle’s shirt and stroked the side of Riddle’s neck. “Are you ready?”
Riddle stood up straighter, head held high. “Yes.”
Crewel’s fingers were gentle, wrapping the collar around Riddle’s neck. Riddle’s heart pounded as he threaded the end through the buckle, tightening it just so that the reinforced collar was a soft pressure at the base of his neck, lightly pressing when Riddle inhaled, but not uncomfortable at all. Once secured, the metal vanished, leaving the loop of leather completely seamless.
“How does it feel?” asked Crewel.
Riddle swallowed, eyelids suddenly heavy with how relaxing the collar felt. Its constant, light press against his bonding nerves were such a sense of security that he purred.
He was someone’s.
He was wanted.
The high of it made him want to smother himself in Crewel’s scent, which sent him right back into Crewel’s arms, still happily purring. The collar was novel enough that it was impossible to ignore, but it reminded him with every breath that he was safe and protected, even if his alpha wasn’t there with him.
“Oh my,” said Crewel, embracing Riddle again. “That good, hm?”
“Hmmhmm.”
Crewel kissed Riddle’s hair. “You’re unfairly cute, kitten. You ought to watch out so that my ego doesn’t get too inflated.”
Riddle couldn’t bring himself to care about that. He just wanted to be close, soaking in the affection he kept thinking he didn’t deserve, now magically bound to feel traces of it every day.
“Look at me, pup.” Crewel guided Riddle’s head up and back so their eyes could meet. He caressed the back of Riddle’s neck, letting the soft lining of the collar pleasantly rub against Riddle’s skin. “You know how you feel right now? Safe and cared for?” Riddle hummed in response. Crewel kissed his forehead. “You always have this from me, without having to earn it. We’ll work on getting you to really believe that, okay?”
Riddle hummed again, a blissful shiver running down his spine. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Good boy.”
Crewel pulled up his chair and the two snuggled up on it, Riddle gladly climbing onto Crewel’s lap the moment he could. Crewel steadied him with his arms around Riddle’s torso, eyes approvingly fixed on his collar. “I outdid myself, didn’t I?”
“It’s perfect,” sighed Riddle. leaning on Crewel’s shoulder. “Maybe being an omega is okay, if I get to feel like this.”
“It would be okay regardless,” insisted Crewel.
A few minutes passed, Riddle dozing in Crewel’s arms, exhaustion turned into a pleasant haze.
“Do you have any free time this weekend?” asked Crewel. “You could come over to my place, if you wanted. Just to see what it’s like.”
Riddle thought about it, curious to know where Crewel lived and what his dwelling was like. If Crewel was going to be his alpha at least until he turned eighteen, he may very well spend a summer there. That sent a shock through his system. The gravity of what he'd done hit in bizarre waves, but he didn't regret it at all. However, he remmebered that despite the ornate nature of the collar, he wasn't fully Crewel's forever.
The implied thought that he may have to ever take the collar off, even a year from then, was so distressing that he banished it from his mind.
“Yes, I have some study time on Saturday around lunch.” Riddle narrowed his eyes at Crewel. “I have to actually study during that time, by the way, Sir.”
Crewel snorted. “Yes yes, I expect you to. You’re welcome to bring any study materials and books you need.”
Riddle closed his eyes again, soothed by the collar and Crewel’s embrace.
How odd, that a collar would be his symbol of freedom, of choosing his own way out.
“I’ll schedule it, then.”