AU. Alphas are like royalty and are offered their choice of any age eighteen-and-up virgin Omega for each year's heat season, as a 'thank-you' to all they've done for their compounds throughout the year. Derek is an Alpha and...yeah, Stiles. Stiles is an Omega. And still a virgin. In every way. And he's just turned eighteen. This...is not his day.

“Bro?” you ask, reaching up to rap on his forehead with your knuckles. Somehow your hand just tangles itself all up in his fine-ass hair and you sort of yank and turn and then two of you are kissing. It’s sloppy and hot and awkward, the angle all wrong and neither one of you used to each other at all, but when he gets your lip between his dull choppers and bites until you’ll bruise it’s just about motherfucking perfect.

Harry Potter -- Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, and . . . well . . . werewolf -- has returned to Hogwarts (at Hermione’s insistence) to finish his education. On top of classes and homework, he’s living in a tent (again) and helping to run the weekly HOWL -- Hogwarts Organisation for the Welfare of Lycanthropes -- meetings. What’s more, there’s something odd about Malfoy . . .

“Hey, Scott, so, I uh, there’s this amazingly hot guy and I’m uh, gonna spend the weekend with him but, you know, just to be careful, I’m sending you his picture, so if by some terrible chance my bloated corpse shows up sometime Monday, just, y’know pass this along to the authorities.” He pauses. “Uh. Kidding?” and then hangs up with a rush of air. “That is the worst voicemail in the history of voicemails,” Derek says.

You're a late bloomer at nine sweeps, and you don't yet have a concupiscent quadrant filled. This leaves you alone and self-pailing for the duration of your mating cycle—at least, that was the idea. When Karkat bursts in on you, it sort of throws off your plans for the week.

Derek's fourth Chase will be his last if he doesn't catch an omega this time. He's starting to doubt this whole soul-mate thing anyway, at least until someone from his past shows up and gives him the run of his life.

Sidney Crosby isn't the only omega playing in the NHL, but he is the only one suffering from heat-delay.

When Steve and Tony wake up to find that they've been captured, they assume things can't get any worse. They're wrong.

Erica and Stiles are convinced that they're going to go down in history as the first-ever omegas at Beacon Hills High School to go unclaimed. But they also, deep down, have an alpha that they're hoping will come to them when they go into heat. Both of these ideas about instinctive mating are pretty much entirely wrong.

After being tortured by a group of hunters, Derek goes into heat. Stiles helps him through it. Written for the 24-hour porn challenge community, Stop, Drop, and Howl.

Derek comes back to Beacon Hills for a number of reasons. The most important one, though, is the result of a one night stand in Vegas. He's knocked up and Alpha, and Cora won't stop playing Papa Don't Preach whenever she gets to pick the music in the car. This shit just keeps happening to him. Or, in which Derek gets the D, Stiles gets the D, then Derek gets Stiles's D.

Stiles always figured it would be Scott who saw him through his first heat. They pinky-swore on it, in fact, when they were eleven and newly-presented. There haven’t exactly been an abundance of offers between then and now. What there is now, though, is the pack, and pack takes care of each other.

It's the hazards of having so many omegas in close proximity for so long. They tend to synch up.

Derek goes into heat. Stiles gives him what he needs.

He keeps the aqun-asala powder in a jar on his dressing table. Every three months he spoons some of it into a mug and mixes it into the water with his finger. It's supposed to be tasteless, but when he swallows it down it lingers on his tongue, affects the taste of anything else he eats for the next couple days, mutes everything. He gets a kick outta eating spicy shit all lackadaisically and offering it to people, and acting surprised when it burns their mouths. (When he explains it to Sera, after she's stopped crying and threatening to stab him with one of his own horns, she thinks it's hilarious — tries to talk him into letting her have enough to prank people, actually. He knows exactly how much is left in the jar though, and he's not sure he's ever gonna get more... so she has to make do with sitting next to him and watching.) "So it keeps you from losing it, huh?" she asks, glaring down into her empty flagon like she doesn't know where the beer got off to. "No squishy pffff—" she puffs up her cheeks and sets the flagon down, curving her hands into a circle and then moving them apart, "—for the qunari pokers?"

A one-shot collection for my aged-up Killugon fics from now on!

Catboy Killua is a pain in his own ass.

In Which A Young Omega, In Defiance Of Both Stereotype And Politeness, Propositions An Alpha Of His Own Blood Caste, And Is Rewarded For His Daring; Contains Awkward Pre-Heat Negotiations, A Supportive And Extraordinarily Unconventional Clade, Heat Cycle Copulation, An Incidental Human Character With Attendant Barkbeast, The Brief Appearance Of A Tealblood Whose Flouting Of Convention Should Not Be Emulated, No Production Of Eggs Whatsoever, And A Hive Of Bees With No Actual Bearing On The Narrative's Outcome.

"I need to—" you can't, you can't say it with Mituna there. "It's my mutation," you say instead. "There are complications." "Okay, dude, open the door," Latula says. The knob rattles, and you miss whatever Mituna says next. "Yeah, I know, but he's still one of us. We can't just let him suffer, you know?" (Kankri misses a social outing. Some of his friends come to check up on him.)

The problem is that you’re at the mercy of a useless, outmoded, ass-backwards mess of a biological process. The drones are gone. They’re never coming again. But your body sure thinks they are. It was— You wouldn’t say it was fine, but it was at least tolerable for a while. Realistically speaking, there was always a reasonable (ninety-nine percent) chance that you’d be culled the first time you tried to supply the drones with a pail, and you’ve been bracing yourself to deal with this since you pupated, for fuck’s sake. It feels like a kick to the shame gloves when your body betrays you and decides, whoops, no, it’s time to be all about filling pails for the glory of the empire.

In which an unfortunate off-caste redblood discovers he has new horrifying mutations involving mating cycles and oviposition, and unintentionally draws his unwitting violetblooded (boy?)friend into his heat during what was supposed to be a relaxing movie night. Said seadweller then does his best to help him through it, keeping him safe from all other hormone-addled pursuers through the use of deadly force. Includes a budding matespritship, one healthy moiraillegiance, depictions of highblood rage and murderous intent, the deaths of no less than three unlucky intruders, too many references to troll Princess Bride, much emotional turmoil, some treasonous plotting, an overabundance of pity, egg-laying, and unconventional lusii. You arrived at just the right moment A moment later I would have been out at sea With no way to be reached I'll leave it up to you To carry me through That's about all I can do --lyrics from Carry Me Through, by Greg Laswell

In a world where Omegas far outnumber Alphas, a dowry system is in place. The Omega’s family offers a dowry in order to secure a respectable Alpha match, with the highest dowries netting the “best” Alphas. Aunt May struggles to secure an Alpha for her Omega nephew’s first heat. All her meager savings can afford is a butt-ugly (by his own admission) Alpha without much experience to speak of. Peter would rather go unmated than lose his virginity to a guy that can’t go five seconds without making a Monty Python reference. However, it seems Peter has no choice…

Being away from Earth means going without heat suppressants. This proves to be a problem for Lance who has been avoiding his heats since puberty. Lucky for him Shiro and Keith are willing to help. “I thought that was why you were being such a jerk.” Keith’s feet shuffled over over the carpet. “You know. Another omega in your space?” “No, I just really find you annoying.”

Keith stood under the hot spray of the shower head, his eyes closed as he focused inward, trying desperately to regain some sense of composure. He wasn’t quite certain what was wrong with him today; he was the one moving out of sync in their training exercises, he’d run himself into an invisible maze-wall so hard he was dizzy for a quarter hour after it, and he swore he could still feel the static jolt under his skin. When Shiro had touched his shoulder, eyes concerned, his touch was like a fresh electric current and Keith had yanked himself away.

Sometimes the other Vulcans wonder how Spock managed to obtain such an exotic bondmate, and sometimes Spock wonders himself.

Turns out Jim Kirk's more than meets the eye, genetically speaking. There are a lot of consequences, mostly for Spock and his sanity.

Just because an alpha can go through rut alone doesn't mean he should. "Okay." Lance's palms were sweaty with what he was about to say. He was about to break so many rules. "Cards on the table, guys. We got any omegas sitting here?"

Midoriya and Todoroki get hit by a quirk that triggers heats and ruts. In the 48hrs that follow, the secret that Midoriya has kept hidden is painfully revealed. Both Todoroki and Iida must find a way to keep him safe without hurting him further...and they'll need Bakugo's help.

In which Ryuji valiantly pretends he's not bi and none of his friends are hot.

Some demons and otherworldly creatures love climbing up the power ladder. Shane is not one of these. He likes where he is (thank you very much) and has no interest in moving up. All he wants is to give his friend Ryan a nice birthday gift. So, naturally, everything goes to hell.

Obviously this was all the fault of Katsuki's perv classmate and his aerosolized heat trigger. Once Katsuki gets his life back under control, everyone will forget all about this moment of weakness. Nothing will change. He won't let it change. After all, he's going to be the number one hero one day. Just because omegas never go pro, that doesn't mean it isn't possible, right? ...right?

Allura is acting a little strange. Shiro is asked to help, and he accepts enthusiastically.

Lance discovers he has the hots for Keith. Then he discovers that Keith is, quite literally, hot for Lance.

Shiro's heat hits, and Keith helps him with what he needs

Heat fic. 'Nuff said.

The cellular union of Eddie Brock and Venom is not without consequences. Alternatively, Eddie goes into heat (or some alien equivalent of it). It's Venom's fault. "The need unfurls inside of him—doubled but easier to bear now that it is shared. He understands what must be done, has always known. It is as basic and primitive as breathing."

Short fics originally posted to my Tumblr, edited and collected here.

Kirishima tries to help Bakugou out during his first heat, and things get complicated.

Once the scent came to his nose, Oberyn had to pursue it. He had to find the source.

Yuuri, under the username of Eros, is a size queen omega who most certainly does not have an obsession with fellow camboy and legendary silver-haired alpha Aria. Just like Phichit is not the most meddlesome roommate known to man.

Gladio gets his kinks indulged by the other three while camping and in heat.

It's involuntary the way his knees seem to buckle and give out and throw him onto the ground. It takes him a moment to realize he's hyperventilating, tears running frustratingly down his cheeks as he rubs his clothed erection slowly against the carpet. / Or the one where Bakugou Katsuki is presenting as a fucking omega, and there's nothing he can do to stop it

It takes him two months, one more heat, and the NHL omega entry course before he realizes that he was meant to let one of them take him through it. They don't do it like that in Sweden, which Nicklas mans up and valiantly explains to the room after he makes it back from camp. They don't use humans as tools. All people are people, and Nicklas would never — he couldn't imagine having a teammate inside him every time he fell into heat, however willing they might be. His body is his own, and they all touch him far more than enough already. He refrains from mentioning that last point to the team.

Lan Wangji is alot of things. He is intelligent, well-mannered, loyal and unfortunately an omega.

Geralt is not making a nest. Jaskier has noticed this. Geralt is in fact drinking a rather foul-smelling potion that sours the sweetness of his scent and muffles its otherwise obvious meaning. “Does that stop heat?” Jaskier asks curiously, absentmindedly tuning his lute as he speaks. He hadn’t thought anything could, but, well . . . witchers and their potions. “No,” Geralt says darkly.

Everyone thinks that the elegant imposing Lan Wangji must be an alpha. Wei Wuxian however will learn the truth once the baby fever hits both of them.

Wei Ying has Lan Zhan, and he has A-Yuan, and with his usual generosity, he thinks of a way to give Jiang Li and Jin Zixuan (who have been trying in vain for children for five years) a child of their own. As long as Lan Zhan is okay with it, of course. (Lan Zhan is not okay with it, but he says yes. Lan Zhan just can't say no to Wei Ying, not even when it leads to holding his heat-drunk husband while another man takes him.)

Lan Sizhui's baby has three possible fathers~!

"We did go looking for omegas," Izuna pointed out under his breath, staring down at his personal enemy. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you want Senju Tobirama for a wife," Madara replied just as quietly, a brief spark of amusement blooming at the shocked horror on his baby brother's face. -- Before he was forced to accompany a pack of rut-muddled idiots on a half-baked plan to kidnap omega brides for the good of the Uchiha clan, Madara hadn't given Hashirama's younger brother much thought. Tobirama was a Senju, and therefore the enemy; he, like Madara and Izuna, was sole survivor of his litter, and so to avoid being alone and therefore unmarriageable had ended up paired up with his older omega brother by default; he was a vicious opponent; he was a beta. He had to be a beta. Hashirama wasn't, and nobody would be brazen or stupid enough to bundle up two reproductive siblings in the same litter, right? ... Right?

They think it will be funny to leave him with a Galra in heat. It whimpers. It's a sound of pure pain, one Shiro's heard a hundred times now in the arena. The sound of something wounded and helpless; the sound of something that knows it. "Are you hurt?" Shiro asks in the bare silence of the cell, and moves a few steps closer. The creature on the floor twitches violently at his voice. It's not dressed like the other prisoners. It's hard to tell in the poor lighting but the back of its skin-tight suit is glowing in circuits, the same purple he's come to associate with the Galra. "I won't hurt you," he says, softer. It doesn't make a sound but its back arches, head lifting from the floor, dragging black hair along the floor. It's dripping wet with blood or sweat. Shiro realizes the small sound he's barely been registering is breath—it's panting. It rolls, just enough to eye Shiro through its dark bangs. He. It's a boy, and he's beautiful.