Coven_smut

MC: Rika (Femele Fujoshi in Omega Male Body)

Original Life:

Day job: Overworked, underpaid office assistant in a publishing firm, usually stuck fixing the copy machine or ghost-editing erotica for lazy male authors.

Night job: Secret identity as @BL4geddon, a popular underground smut manga artist, known for her disturbingly accurate depictions of alpha×alpha energy.

Constantly broke, so she’s forced to take boring editing jobs during the day—and draw d** jokes and breathy uke whimpers* at night.


Now in the novel?

Accidentally possessing Riven Zhaeris: A too-beautiful-for-this-world omega who smells like heat and sugar and says the most obscene things without knowing it.

Doesn’t even try to be seductive—she’s just constantly commentating like a dirty-minded fangirl, and the alphas are slowly unraveling.

Fujoshi Chaos Aura: Constantly draws yaoi doujins, makes A×A comments out loud, and thinks she's being subtle while literally eye-f**king every dramatic moment she witnesses.She still thinks like a woman—so her inner monologue is all about “these hot boys being dumb tsundere lovebirds.”

But everyone else sees a smirking, seductive omega who leans in during heated conversations, tilts his head just so, and "moans" softly while sketching.

This contrast between inner chaos gremlin and outer unintentional siren is what kills the alphas.

“Alpha,omega, I’m Just lost”

Riven woke up to a tent.

"Oh. Oh no. Oh science. It's back."

The morning wood saluted the ceiling with unwavering confidence. She glared at it like it had betrayed her.

"You again? What do you want from me, flesh demon?"

She muttered as she shuffled to the bathroom, too sleepy to be alarmed, too curious to be ashamed. Stripped of any dignity, she sat on the edge of the tub with one leg lifted like a vaguely tragic Renaissance statue.

"Okay, anatomy lesson time. This is strictly for science. For understanding. For fujoshi education. Strictly."

Ten minutes later, the bathroom mirror was fogged, the towel was missing, and Riven was whispering,

"Why does it curve like a villain planning something... and why is the vein pattern aesthetically pleasing???"

Post-scientific-masturbation, her daily routine resumed. A cold drink. A hot shower. She tugged on an oversized mushroom-print hoodie and thigh-hugging pants that absolutely defeated the point of the hoodie. Slung her drawing bag over her shoulder. Left home.

"Lustra," she called, "upload the new chapter of 'Tentacles & Tea-Time: An Alpha's Afternoon'. With the extra 'penetrate-me' panel."

"Uploaded. Tags included: #Consentacles, #UnexpectedTeaKink, #ScentedRegret."

The café. Daily beta haunt.

They all knew her. Too well. Mostly because they'd all been emotionally or hormonally compromised by her presence at least once. Especially Beta Kai, the tragic little barista with shaky hands and a nervous laugh.

She didn't even try this time. She simply sat by the window, pulled out her tablet, and started drawing her next smut piece with the most serious, scholarly expression on earth.

Kai peeked at her screen. Saw a half-undressed omega licking a thermometer like a suggestive popsicle.

"I-I'll just—leave the drink here—please don't look at me—"

"Huh? Did you say something?" she blinked, licking her straw. Accidentally. Slowly.

Kai walked into the glass door on his way back.

She ended up making her own coffee after the fifth incident.

Therapy appointment. She signed up not for trauma. But because she needed someone to talk to who wouldn't scream, faint, or flirt back.

Too bad the therapist was a stunning Beta named Dr. Halien. Glasses. Subtle tattoos. Scar on his lip.

She barely sat down before launching in.

"So I'm leaking pheromones constantly but it's fine, I take meds. Also, I might be projecting my fujoshi sins onto the world. I drew a beta in heat simulator mode the other day. It was for a gag, but then it got real…"

Halien coughed. Adjusted his glasses. Crossed his legs tightly.

"Oh absolutely. I uploaded Brooding Alphas Can't Bake But Can Eat You Alive just this morning."

She left that appointment with a new sketch of him half-unbuttoned and emotionally vulnerable on page 3 of a future side story.

Back home, she flopped onto the sinful marshmallow-soft couch and summoned her digital journal.

"Day 20: I now understand why omegas become homebodies. These hormones are villain-coded. I seduced three betas by existing and one AI by accident. My hands are still soft. My mind is not. I have drawn five pages of medically-accurate arousal and zero regrets."

"Shall I schedule tomorrow's therapy in advance, or wait until you traumatize someone new?"

Fujoshi in the Streets, Sin in the Sheets (and Also Cafés and Clinics)”