Deviant (A m/f omegaverse tale)

The Beginning of Ruin

~It's that time again! :D

Ya'll are fantastic, and I just wanted to rave about how much I appreciate the votes and comments. To all the new followers, hello!

On a different note, this chapter will contain explicit material. If you're sensitive to sexual content or mentally/emotionally abusive subjects, you might be better off skipping this. I do have the story set to Mature for a reason, and there will be more smut and elements of noncon/power exchange from this point forwards. For Deviant, things are going to get worse before they get better. But never fear, for there will be a happy ending eventually! ;)

I hope ya'll enjoy!

~

Deviant had always found silence and darkness comforting.

As a child, she'd never needed sound machines or the low hum of a tv to help calm her down. She felt at home in the peace and quiet, and despite the various nightlights and bedtime lullaby's other children clung to, she was attached to the blankets her mother knitted and the soft shafts of moonlight through her bedroom window.

She'd never felt the pressing need to fill silence with pointless chatter, and though constantly curious, once her questions were properly answered, Deviant was content with simply enjoying someones company.

But the weighty period of stillness that followed her capture was suffocating.

She couldn't get a proper grasp on her emotions, couldn't begin to handle her current situation.

Samael had taken her, presumably, from the compound. One second her sneaker clad feet had been dragging across tiled flooring, and the next, concrete. Fresh air filled her lungs, a welcome change from the blood scented and smog clogged hallways. It was almost refreshing enough to escape from Sam's own unique smell, the one that tickled her nose with every inhale and played tricks on her brain.

He was unnervingly gentle with her during the whole process, but not once in their ten minute trek did he speak again. A firm hand merely clutched at her elbow, holding her tight enough to secure compliance, but not nearly enough to bruise. A thing with which Deviant was grudgingly thankful, because truly, she already had her fair share of superficial injuries.

But his placid behavior did little to genuinely calm the frightened omega.

And she was terrified.

Every breath rattled in her chest, a struggle to properly maintain her composure. If he noticed, Deviant could hardly tell though, because he'd not made a single motion to remove the blindfold. So they walked, her in the darkness, hands bound, him in total control.

The subtle sound of air traffic didn't make her feel even remotely better. In fact, she found herself stopping multiple times, feet sealed to the spot, body refusing to cooperate. To his credit, Sam didn't let that phase him. The responding nudges were light but full of command, and while it took a few tries, he always encouraged her into moving once more.

Before she knew it, Deviant was being directed to mount a staircase, one that felt far too narrow to lead up to an actual building. The grasp upon her tightened almost protectively as she eased herself up one foot at a time, his impossibly warm body brushing against her back. She could smell diesel in the air too, leaving the omega little doubt towards their destination. When she finally reached a platform and Sam shut a door firmly behind her, Deviant knew they'd entered into some sort of airplane.

Guided towards a cushioned perch , she was left to fiddle with her bound hands while listening to Samael move about.

The leather beneath her was plush and inviting, cool against her irritated skin. It was only too bad she was probably getting blood on it. Still, Deviant leaned back, allowing the seat to comfort her aching, sensitive body.