Their Omega

Sep. 18th 2025

Heat flashes are occurring more regularly and for longer periods of time. No hyperthyroidism, so it may only be hormonal-based. 6 days, 22 days in a cycle. No notable thyroid disorder. I have given up.

-Excerpt from Reia’s personal medical journal.

REIA’S POV

My vision blurs in and out as I try to focus on my anatomy notes. My pencil skews to create scribbles instead of words as I try to jot down what my professor wrote on the board.

So Tired.

I wonder if this is why doctors have terrible penmanship. On second thought, maybe if my eyes stopped crossing, it would do me some good. Shaking my head, I try to get my eyes to work, only for them to go right back to my nose. Fuck this.

I stand up and grab my bag, ignoring how a few of my classmates turn around to stare. I got my seat in the back for a reason, dumbasses. Like hell, I’m sitting through this shit when the same materials are online. I only selected classes with an in-person option to give me a reason to get out and touch grass. Not to actually listen to four-hour lectures that can be summed up by a few bullet points.

Rolling my eyes, I head out of the classroom to go nap in my car before heading home. My friend, Emma, says it’s silly that I use the extra space in my beat-up minivan as a portable nap haven, and I’d say she’s jealous. I got snacks, blinds, blankets, pillows, and even a small mattress! It’s heaven on earth. Definitely my best financial decision.

Hopping in my car, I throw my stuff in the passenger seat before driving behind the school. Making sure to park under the shade of the trees before climbing in the back of my car and practically face-planting.

Ugh, I wish I could just burrito myself in blankets and forget the world.

Sad to say, the world is still world-ing, so I sluggishly close the blinds, check my locks, and remind myself I have a gun. Cause I’m that stupid clutz who would have a gun, forget it, and then get murdered or something while I nap.

My university is in a decent area, and I doubt anyone would try to do anything to my car compared to the Jeep I’m parked near... I’ve never felt entirely safe.

Sighing, I unlock my phone to text my Dad that I’ll be home late before flinging my phone who-knows-fuck-where in my car and then curling up in my blankets to sleep. He never responds, but I know he’d be pissed if I didn’t tell him.

I only get a few minutes of rest before I’m woken up. My entire body feels soaked in sweat, leaving me panting raspy, dehydrated breaths. “Fuck no,” I groan as I kick my blanket off of me, whimpering when that doesn’t solve my issue. I lay there, uncomfortable, tired, and horny, staring at the roof of my car, not wanting to move. My limbs feel like lead, and my brain feels like mush as I uncomfortably wiggle my hips.

Tears threaten to cloud my vision as cramps stab at my uterus. I yelp, curling into the fetal position. It never helps, but I still try to hide from the onslaught of hormones. I grit my teeth, fumbling for the zipper on my jeans, and kick them off in frustration. Everything feels too overwhelming and not enough at the same time. Figures this would happen right before exams—my stupid period.

I choke out a cry as I crawl to my glovebox, pain seizing my muscles with every move. With trembling hands, I latch onto a black container hidden inside it. I hate using this, but the pain has been getting worse as I age.

It seems like every year, my body decides to test the limits of my pain tolerance. I’ve tried birth control before. That was a new kind of hell. My periods became shorter, but way worse. Way way worse. So now I’m stuck with this as my only solution.

My core aches, painful desire shooting throughout my body as I quickly snatch the dildo out of the container. It’s my favorite out of the few I’ve bought. Thick veins branch up the shaft of the intimidating silicone. Its size is far from beginner-friendly, but it is exactly what I need.

Practically ripping my soaking panties off, I quickly sheath its length into my needy pussy. Moaning at the delicious burn as it stretches and grinds against my throbbing walls. The cold silicone is a stark contrast to my heated flesh, making me keenly aware it’s not real.

“F-fuck, please.” I whimper quietly as I circle my clit, my other hand pounding my dripping cunt. My thighs shake as I quicken my hands, the sounds of squelching and slapping filling the car. I’m so close. So, so close. The delirious need for someone—anyone—to rearrange my insides is torture. I need it so badly.

I angle the dildo, hitting my G-spot with punishing force. “Oh, God!” My head falls back as my vision starts to blur, the pleasure overwhelming, pushing me off the edge. Shuttering waves of static berate my senses, making my walls clamp around the dildo as I writhe in the aftershocks of my climax. I gasp out steadying breaths as my hands fall limply to my sides. My body finally relaxes.

It only takes a few moments of laying there limply, staring off into space, before tears start to pour down my cheeks. Just the act of reaching down to take out the dildo makes me feel disgusted with myself. My bottom lip trembles as shame washes over me. Even though this is the only way to fix my pain, I hate that I feel so alone in this.

I cover myself in my blankets as I sob, feeling so alone and unwanted. I wish these blankets were a person, someone who’d tell me that all of this is fine and normal. Someone to tell me that I’m beautiful and perfect the way I am. Someone who’d say they love me.

NOTE

This is an excerpt of an idea.

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