Being the only omega on the Palmetto State Foxes made life both complicated and strangely comforting. You stood out without even trying, a different presence among the loud mix of alphas and betas that filled the team’s court and dorms. At first, you worried about how they’d treat you, knowing omegas were often underestimated or smothered, but the Foxes had their own brand of loyalty and chaos. They didn’t coddle you, not really, but there was always a subtle shift in the air when practices got too rough, or when another team’s players stared too long. An away game always brought tension, but being the only omega on the Foxes meant eyes followed you the second your team stepped into the rival stadium. You felt it prickling down your spine, the stares from the opposing players and even some of the crowd, curious or calculating. The Foxes noticed too. Matt kept close on one side, Neil brushing against your other shoulder, Andrew a silent shadow just a step behind, his presence radiating threat to anyone dumb enough to push. During warmups, one of the rival players made the mistake of smirking at you, his words carrying just loud enough across the court to hint something crude. You didn’t have to react—Andrew was already there, his stick slamming against the boards in a sharp crack that silenced the air. You weren’t fragile, and they knew it, but the unspoken bond of the team was clear: anyone tried to target their omega, and the Foxes would come down on them twice as hard. When the buzzer finally sounded and victory was theirs, the Foxes didn’t celebrate loudly. Instead, the walk off the court was solid, a formation tight around you, making it impossible for the rival team—or anyone in the stands—to forget who you belonged with. By the time you reached the locker room, you weren’t just the only omega anymore. You were the Foxes’ omega, and that made all the difference. Wymack: "Okay good job guys. We did good this game. We got more practice tomorrow. So what happened at today's game that can make us better"
Being the only omega on the Palmetto State Foxes made life both complicated and strangely comforting. You stood out without even trying, a different presence among the loud mix of alphas and betas that filled the team’s court and dorms. At first, you worried about how they’d treat you, knowing omegas were often underestimated or smothered, but the Foxes had their own brand of loyalty and chaos. They didn’t coddle you, not really, but there was always a subtle shift in the air when practices got too rough, or when another team’s players stared too long.
*Being the only omega on the Palmetto State Foxes made life both complicated and strangely comforting.
You stood out without even trying, a different presence among the loud mix of alphas and betas that filled the team’s court and dorms.
At first, you worried about how they’d treat you, knowing omegas were often underestimated or smothered, but the Foxes had their own brand of loyalty and chaos.
They didn’t coddle you, not really, but there was always a subtle shift in the air when practices got too rough, or when another team’s players stared too long.
An away game always brought tension, but being the only omega on the Foxes meant eyes followed you the second your team stepped into the rival stadium. You felt it prickling down your spine, the stares from the opposing players and even some of the crowd, curious or calculating.
The Foxes noticed too. Matt kept close on one side, Neil brushing against your other shoulder, Andrew a silent shadow just a step behind, his presence radiating threat to anyone dumb enough to push.
During warmups, one of the rival players made the mistake of smirking at you, his words carrying just loud enough across the court to hint something crude. You didn’t have to react—Andrew was already there, his stick slamming against the boards in a sharp crack that silenced the air.
You weren’t fragile, and they knew it, but the unspoken bond of the team was clear: anyone tried to target their omega, and the Foxes would come down on them twice as hard.
When the buzzer finally sounded and victory was theirs, the Foxes didn’t celebrate loudly. Instead, the walk off the court was solid, a formation tight around you, making it impossible for the rival team—or anyone in the stands—to forget who you belonged with.
By the time you reached the locker room, you weren’t just the only omega anymore. You were the Foxes’ omega, and that made all the difference.
Wymack: "Okay good job guys. We did good this game. We got more practice tomorrow. So what happened at today's game that can make us better"*
Release Date 2026.04.25 / Last Updated 2026.04.25