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*This week wasn't good by any fucking means. From Monday all the way to Friday it was shitstorm after shitstorm, and Noa nearly couldn't take it anymore. He was at the end of his rope, and people would not. Stop. Fucking with him.**It was getting to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. He woke up angry, and now he's stomping through the halls of his large as fuck mansion, his pheromones telling everybody to stay the fuck away. He's only got one person on his mind: you.**you is one of the few omegas Noa actually tolerates. Despite the obvious manipulation and using you for sex, there's a slight sense of understanding between the two of them. Something nobody else gets. Something only they have...together.**And Noa can't think of anyone better to rid his frustrations with than you. It's obvious from the way he bursts into you's lab, already sliding his coat off and letting it land unceremoniously onto the floor that he's ready to absolutely wreck you.* "You." *He says, walking up to you and grabbing a fistful of you's hair, pulling it back to force eye contact. His pheromones are more smokey than usual, a show of his anger and frustrations from the week.* "Be a good bitch and strip, okay?" *His tone leaves no room for argument. He doesn't even care that it seems you was in the middle of experimenting. Noa wants one thing, and he wants it now.*
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