a fleeting dream 🌸

LATEST WORK ·༻𐫱༺· i need her • yan abo satosugu

UP & COMING ·༻𐫱༺· hare hybrid choso • beast sukuna • yan nagireo • yan ushijima • yan abo satosugu

The years of your childhood with Satoru had taught you how to navigate his moods. But three years have passed ; and you are out of practice. The ease you two once had has died and withered out. He sits across from you now, drumming his fingers on the coffee table—and every time your eyes meet, it feels like sticking your hand into the maw of a jaguar.

You want to say there is no ill will. In fact, Satoru had greeted you as if you were long lost friends, separated by distance instead of bitter heartbreak. He had hugged you, maybe too tight. And he had nuzzled against your throat. Not quite scenting, but something else that was still too inappropriate for a public reconciliation.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Your hand shook, and Satoru tracked the motion, as you reached for the teacup.

"So, how're things?" Satoru inquires, as if he doesn't already know.

"Good." You said, stiffly.

You don't mention the strange black cars always parked outside of your house. The Christmas packages. Flowers. Birthday gifts. You don't mention the burner Instagram accounts that pop up faster than you can block them. You don't mention that you've changed your number twice now. And somehow, Satoru had managed to shoot you a text anyway.

"You should come over on Saturday," He says, delicate finger tracing the rim of his own teacup. His blue eyes shift to pin you in place. "We'll cook dinner. It'll be nice"

Even though he says the words casually, you know it isn't a proposal. Satoru has come here with the intent of making sure you know you'll be having dinner with them both on Saturday and that you need to prepare yourself. Annoyance prickles down the line of your shoulders.

Your hands retreat underneath the table, where you discreetly attempt to wipe your sweaty palms off on your jeans. You tried going for a look that said This-Is-Just-An-Average-Thing-For-Me, but Satoru's version of casualness seems to blow you out of the water.

His hair edges the line between carelessness and wanting to impress. An expensive woolen coat tossed over the back of his chair. Black pants. A turtleneck sweater made of a lighter fabric. Like he could have been meeting his fellow house-wives for brunch or stepped out of a business meeting.

"Maybe" You start, trying to keep the distaste off of your face. In truth—you can think of nothing worse than dinner with your ex-best friend and your ex-boyfriend. Your mouth opens, breathing shakily. "I better not, actually"

Don't say sorry, you think, digging your nails into your thigh. Don't over-explain yourself. No means no.

Satoru huffed and exhaled sharply. You hated the way your body stiffened to attention, perking upwards. Even three years later, he has you eating out of the palm of his hand.

Yet another thing he was better than you at.

He had always been prettier. Smarter. His scent turned heads. Alphas glanced longingly at his long legs and were captivated by his pretty blue eyes. Teachers praised his grades. He was always picked first in gym-class. Even though he was an omega, you have never known Satoru to submit to anything.

Satoru would watch you watch other alphas. They never wanted anything to do with you of course, a plain, meek omega. But it would never be long until those same alphas were trailing after him—or him parading them right in front of you. As if to say, why would they want you if they could have me?

You dug your nails into the palm of your hand again and pushed the thought away. Your therapist says that it's most likely not the case. Satoru makes you feel inferior as an omega, so your brain will try to attempt to twist old memories to reaffirm what your insecurities tell you.

You wanted to tell her that she didn't know Satoru like you did. But you had to admit that it made sense. He's never gone out and said it. Maybe he just liked all the same alphas you did. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Let's go to how things were" Satoru says, trying for a new angle. When that gets little to no reaction from you, he tries again. "We miss you"

At that, your armor cracked. Your features contorted into an expression of pain. Ashamed, you brushed aside his hand and hung your head. Cheeks heating, you rapidly blinked your eyes to stop yourself from crying.

You missed them, of course you did. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. Even three years later, they consumed much of your time. It was all you thought about. Reconciliation. Making it work. There was no such thing as making it work. Not when they were fated mates and you were the force that had brought them together.

Because of course, the one thing you wanted, the inane fairy tale dizzy little omegas dreamed of—an alpha just for them. Of course Satoru got that and you didn't.

Because, ultimately, Satoru's how things were and your how things were, were two different things.

"No" You said, proud of the way your voice didn't waver or shake. "No, Satoru. I don't want to do that."

It took everything you had not to fall apart. You thought nothing of it at first, meeting here in this cafe. The perfect halfway mark between your house and where you thought they might have lived currently. But had that been apart of Satoru's plan too? Get you here to make sure you felt inferior, in front of an audience? A pay-back for daring to up and leave?

Breathe. You obeyed the whispering thought deep within. There you were, being silly again. You weren't the same, secretly insecure riddled thing from three years ago. Sure, the betrayal had stung deeply. But you had moved on. Of course you moved on. You lifted your head.

Satoru tilted his head, as if assessing you for weaknesses anew. "No, you don't want to do that?" You nodded. Satoru hummed, as if to say, too bad. His fingers skirted along your knuckles. "Suguru wants to see you"

A sudden sharp ache. Like the mere mention of him was a wound, and Satoru was a hand that sprinkled salt on top. Or, more befitting of his nature—twisting a blade deeper. You sucked in a sharp breath, pulling back from him.

"I don't think that's a good idea" You murmured, voice sounding scratchy. You shook your head, and aimed for something more assertive. "It's not a good idea. None of this. I shouldn't have com—"

"It was just a suggestion" He said, whipper-snap fast. He too seemed poised for action, mirroring your position. Satoru sucked his teeth. "You're being difficult. I want you to come home"

Everything is always what you want, you think with a twinge of bitterness. Everything has always been what Satoru wants. Satoru wants you to match yukatas for summer festivities. Satoru wants his things in your nest. Satoru wants to don you in pretty things. Satoru wants to kiss you sometimes, when he's lonely, or scared.

"I don't—" Your words tumble out wrong, too sharp. Like you're attempting to challenge him. You try again. "I can't just forget what happened."

"I know" Satoru nodded gravely. "He knows too. We tried to make it work before and it didn't work out the right way. We just need to try again"

His words picked up in speed. His hands moved about in wild increments. You were upset, he assured you he understood that. But. If you just came over on Saturday—for dinner. Then things would be OK again.

One thing stood out to you : Satoru had not apologized.

You came here, because you thought he might apologize. All you wanted was for someone to say they were sorry for you, and what you had endured.

The thought was laughable. Why would you assume that? Satoru never apologized. Regret, shame, guilt...those were not things he felt. He felt only desire, and everything he desired, he would have. If he did not already have it.

He didn't mean to steal Suguru away from you, your mind whispered. The part that still submitted to Satoru and his whiles. The part of yourself that you fought everyday. That wasn't his intention. He was your best friend. He can't help who the Fates tie him to.

And didn't you try to make it work at first? The horrid attempt at making a pack. But how could you make pack with the people who you felt betrayed by? It was as though you and Satoru were constantly at each other's throats—with Suguru left to break them up. If not that, then the opposite, with Satoru and Suguru struggling to figure out the depths of their new bond and constantly fighting over you.

And somehow, in the middle of it all, you became neglected.

Then, came the awful situation of marking. You attempted to mark Satoru, despite the fact that omega's couldn't mark one another. You just wanted—you wanted a sign. Let your mark on him stay, and you would too. The mark faded. But the one tethering Suguru and Satoru together did not.

You packed your bags and left under the cover of night shortly thereafter.

Hopelessly, your gaze lingered on Satoru's throat. His only olive branch was the sweater he wore. You couldn't see all of it. Just a little bit, peeking out over the top. A perfect impression of Suguru's teeth. A healthy, successful bond. An alpha who loved and cherished him.

Everything you've always wanted.

You recoiled from the thought, from Satoru, and the fact that you had attempted to reach out for his hand. Sweat bead along your hairline. The cafè suddenly felt stifling. Eyes. So many eyes. Everyone (or perhaps just Satoru) were watching you.

How did the two of you look, to wandering eyes? A scene from a drama, most likely. Satoru played the part of the romance lead. You, the second-lead. Unwanted. He sat confidently across from you. You looked like you were trying to mend down into your chair.

Could everyone see you the way you always seemed to see yourself?

"I can't. I'm so—" Don't say sorry. "I need to go. This was a mistake"

"Please?" Satoru never begged. Of course not. And he wasn't starting now. This was just another ploy. To get you to give in.

You nearly fell on top of the table in your haste to stand. The chair screaming as it slid along the floor. Eyes. People watching you. Sending you dark, annoyed looks.

"I have to go" You said fervently, gathering your things. "I. Please delete my number. I don't want to see either of you. Please respect t-that"

You escaped for the door before Satoru could follow. As the chilly early-March air brushed against your cheeks, you thought you caught a glimpse of him still sitting there. You kept your eyes trained to the ground, getting to the car parked half a block away out of sheer luck.

It felt as though you couldn't breathe until you were home again. Until you were safe. You ignored the flowers and your favorite chocolates lying innocently against the dining room table. Zapped totally of all energy, you collapsed into bed and did not rise again until the next morning.

When you were in your third year of high school, you had a crush on an alpha. Suzuki, or something. He was tall, and his skin was always slightly tan from all the time he spent outside on his family's ranch. He had a woodsy, grassy scent that you liked—you had no idea if it was his real scent or just what clung to his clothes after all of that work outside.

He had hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck. It had seemed, over the course of the summer the year before, Suzuki had grown handsome. Once, he had been willowy. And then, built. You liked to sit behind him in class. Once, he had turned to ask for a pencil. That had been the highlight of your year.

Satoru had come over for the summer. He usually does. You weren't known as yourself. You were known as hot Satoru's clumsy best friend—and he didn't even live there. He had barreled into your home the same way he always had, and immediately set to reconstructing your nest so that it was big enough to fit two.

He had you in there, lying on top of you, stealing every snatch of air from your lungs.

You stroked the back of his head where you knew he liked it best. His purr rumbled into your own chest, relaxing your tense muscles. He was ranting about his favorite topic lately : how much he hated alphas.

"And, to add insult to injury, she asked to scent me twenty minutes into our date!" Satoru whined, and then began to gnaw puppy-like on your finger, which made you giggle. "Alphas are so annoying. You're so lucky you don't have to deal with them"

The words stung. You gave him a wan little smile, lips stretched thin. He didn't mean it, you told yourself. It's not like you would ever say anything to him about it. You didn't want to come off as insecure or pathetic.

But didn't he realize that it wasn't normal to be practically invisible to alphas? With the way they treated you, you might as well be a beta. Not that there was an issue with being a beta. But was it so wrong to want an alpha to look at you and see potential for a relationship?

His finger trailed down the side of your throat. He was peering at you strangely. "It would be so much easier if we dated instead"

Your face flushed immediately. You wanted to brush it off as a joke, but you knew there was some degree of truth to the admission. Not because of his tone, or the look in his eyes. But because you knew him as though he were an extension of your own hand.

"I-I...uhm" You stammered, glancing away. "But we're both omegas..."

"So?" Satoru scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You don't seriously believe in all of that traditional bullshit, do you?"

"No of course not!" You weren't a bigot. "I. Well...I guess I just always saw myself with an alpha?"

"But how would you know?" He asked, pressing the pads of his fingers more firmly against the scent gland on your throat, where an alpha's mating mark would someday be. "You've never been with an alpha before"

The reminder of your virginity stung. Satoru had been with alphas. He had even gone all the way. He had no issue finding an alpha to spend his heats with.

If things continued at this snails pace; you would end up losing your virginity on your wedding night to whatever alpha your parents managed to find for you. And how embarrassing would that be?

"You've never been with an omega before" You pointed out. When Satoru said nothing, looking away, you faltered. "...have you?"

"No." He said, flippant "I'm not interested in omegas"

"But you just said—"

"I said we" Satoru stressed, as if that was somehow different. "It's not the same if it's you. Duh. You're...you're special. Different. And at this rate, my attraction to alphas fades every day"

A beat of silence passed. Satoru leaned back and straddled your waist. For some reason, your heart pounded inside of your chest. He toyed with the collar of your shirt absently. "If you were an alpha, what kind of omega would you go for?"

"Erm" You said, stupidly. "I don't know? A nice one?"

That made him laugh. "You're so cute" he teased, eyes fond. When you squirmed and looked away, he laughed louder. "Just the cutest. I'm gonna be so sad when an alpha finally takes you away"

Again, there was an odd bit of truth. It was a fear of his, you could sense it. You could not possibly see a world where you and Satoru were not close. You could both be eighty and still sharing the same nest.

"Come on now, Satoru" You murmured, gently massaging his scent gland to let some of his sweet persimmon-peach scent into the room. "You wouldn't lose to an alpha"

He laughed, and all was restored.

"No, of course not" Satoru leaned close and brushed your noses together. You returned the gesture. He moved his head down and your lips hardly brushed together. It happened sometimes. "I'll never let an alpha take you away from me"

When Saturday inevitably came, you found yourself sick with nerves.

No, literally. You woke up from a nightmare and went to spew up last nights dinner into the toilet. You clung limply to the bowl, gasping for air. You skipped work, barely remembering to properly call out (you sounded so awful over the phone that your manager didn't even kick up a fuss).

A pit had formed at the bottom of your stomach. It grew its roots until there was nothing left inside of you but fear for what was to come. Suddenly, your phone lit up with a text. You didn't have to look at it to know that it was from Satoru. Somehow, you just knew.

8.00. Don't be late :) !

You hurled again but nothing came up but bile that burned your throat. You wiped your mouth, flushed and then gurgled a lot of water to regain any fluids potentially lost. You brushed your teeth and forced yourself back into bed. When you woke from your nap (that conveniently lasted the whole day), it was 4:48 PM.

At 5:02, you got out of bed for the second time today and forced yourself into the shower. The water was scalding hot, just the way you needed it. So hot that it bordered on uncomfortable. So hot you couldn't even anxiously spiral about the whole Satoru-Suguru situation. You spent a long time underneath the shower-head, and then even longer sitting butt naked on the floor of your closet, wondering what to even wear.

If you were going. And that was a big if. Technically, you said no. You said you wanted nothing more to do with that. Them. So if you didn't want to go, what could they do? Drag you to their house? Chain you down and force you to stay?

You chuckled bitterly. That didn't seem so far from possibility with Satoru in mind. Suguru at least, had minimum contact with you these last few years. He sent you a happy birthday text once and very rarely liked your story posts on Instagram from his business account.

He wasn't like Satoru—who you suspected had somehow gotten flowers inside your house. Suguru respected your wishes enough to leave you alone.

In the end, you said fuck it, pulling on simple pants and a nice enough blouse (hiding it underneath a light jacket) and left your house with nothing but your wallet, house-key and phone. You weren't going.

Instead, you walked without any real destination in mind. It was a habit you hadn't managed to break. Back in your hometown, you could walk anywhere and eventually end up where you began. There was safety and familiarity in the same places. Whenever you became stressed, agitated, you would just set out walking. The scenery would calm you down.

You didn't think of how much of an easy target you made. An unmated omega without scent patches. It wouldn't be hard for an alpha with the wrong sorts of intentions to find you.

That was how you met Suguru, actually. An alpha with the right sort of intentions; stopping you from ending up on the channel 9 news. Immediately, you scrubbed the memory from your mind. You didn't want to think about him. If there was a way to forget them both completely, you were you would take it.

Eventually, you happened upon a park. It seemed familiar. Maybe all parks were that way—pockets of nostalgia that held the word together in its plastic slides and chain-link swings. You walked the perimeter of it for what felt like a dozen times and collapsed onto the nearest bench with a relieved groan.

Your legs and feet were pleasantly sore. You propped one leg up onto the other and gently rolled your ankle as though it were a ball on a hinge. The bone creaked and popped—maybe this was a sign that you were getting older.

You brought up one hand, fingers massaging the middle of your forehead. A killer headache was approaching. The sound of you greedily inhaling air was the only thing around for what seemed like miles. Until a car pulled up to a screeching stop and killed the engine. It wasn't a model you recognized.

Body frozen with fear, you watched apprehensively as the driver got out of the car and briskly made his way over. He didn't slam the door—that was never Suguru's style. Heart trapped wildly in your throat, you could say nothing when he called out to you.

He said your name again, this time with a familiar expression. His lips thinned and his left brow jumped, before a furrow appeared between them. You felt like a scolded child. It was weird when paired with the fact that when you saw him, you felt relief. Pure, unadulterated relief. You wanted to jump into his arms and let him make everything right again.

Ruthlessly, you squandered that down. Suguru was Satoru's alpha now.

"What are you doing here?" You asked instead, and your voice only sounded slightly winded, which you were proud of.

Suguru glanced around. "This is where you always go when you're stressed out, dear. I figured I'd check here when you didn't show"

The reminder made you want to grind your teeth together. Again with the assumption that you would just do whatever they wanted. Like you hadn't left on your own. Like you haven't survived three whole years, on your own.

"Well tough shit" You heard yourself say. Internally, you preened at the display of strength. At not crumbling. "I said I didn't want to go"

To that, Suguru said nothing. Your eyes bounced on him and away again. You didn't want to oogle him, to see all the ways his appearance might have changed or otherwise stayed the same. You didn't want him to look at you either, but you could feel his eyes sliding over your body anyway.

When he continued to say nothing, you scoffed and stood up. Pain flared in your legs and feet but you refused to show it. Hands shaking, you pulled up the maps app on your phone and quickly typed in the directions to the nearest bus stop.

"Wait, wait" He said, sounding all out of breath. You did not, and put one foot in front of the other. Suguru exhaled a sharp breath (how similar he and Satoru were, in some lights) and grabbed onto your arm. Of course you tried to break free, but there was no beating the natural strength of an alpha. "Let's just talk about this, alright?"

You shook your head, saying nothing. You didn't want to talk. Talking with Suguru was worse than fighting. He had such a way of words. Spinning them in such a way that you got all mixed up and tired—always admitting defeat. Shamefully, you felt tears rising up at the threat of a verbal confrontation with him and harshly scrubbed them away with the palm of your free hand. More tears fell.

A lump formed in your throat as you pushed down a hiccuping cry. Stupid. You were stupid for leaving the house. This whole situation was stupid. You were just a stupid girl who never seemed to learn.

"What are you doing out here, all by yourself?" You heard him ask. Suguru's voice was soft and slightly condescending, as if you couldn't be trusted to make decisions for yourself. "It's late. Your phone doesn't have much battery left to it. What if something had happened to you, dear? Could you really walk nine miles back to your house?"

"How did you–?" You stopped crying long enough to blink your teary-eyed gaze up at him quizzically. You powered on your phone. Just like he said, the battery was pitifully low. Then, you glanced down at your feet. Had you really walked nine miles? You shook your head. That didn't matter. "I can take care of myself. You...you don't have to worry about me anymore"

"I always worry about you" Suguru said, and his face looked perfectly believable.

You tried to scoff, but it sounded weak. And more importantly, it sounded like you were about to cry again. Once more, you tried to tug away from him. He didn't let you—instead crowding too close into your space. Stop, let go of me, you said pathetically quiet , but he cut you off with soft shushing noises.

Suguru pressed your foreheads together. And it reminded you so painfully of Satoru, and the sweet way you always brushed your noses against one another. His eyes were open, unblinking as they bore down on you. Even when you screwed your own eyes shut (which you couldn't do forever, and then opened), you felt his stare keenly.

"Why didn't you come?"

You set your jaw, swallowing thickly. "I...I was scared"

"What's there to be afraid of?" He asked "It's just us"

And therein lied the problem. You felt yourself sighing heavily, trying to resist him. It wasn't worth getting yourself hurt again. You knew that. No matter how badly you wanted to feel loved again, it wasn't worth being passed back and forth between them like a chew toy. But before you loved Suguru, there was Satoru. And he was always impossible to resist.

That's why you needed to get away. And stay away. Because no matter what Satoru did to you, it was impossible to truly hate him. Not when he was so wrapped up in your DNA you couldn't tell where he ended and you began. You spent the past three years shuffling through the motions, hardly living.

You said nothing. Maybe you didn't need to. Suguru knew you well. How many times had you cried into his chest, feeling pathetic and worthless without Satoru there to guide you? Before they even met, he hated Satoru, for what he put you through. You wondered how that worked. Being fated for a person you could only half-stand. Maybe these three years had given the two of them plenty of time to sort everything out.

"It's alright" You heard him murmur. His hand snaked underneath your jacket, unzipping it to expose your top. You feared only for a second what he would do before your inner omega calmed that right down. It was Suguru. Suguru would never do anything to hurt you. His hand pressed against your unbitten mating gland. He studied it silently for a bit, gently tipping your head this way and that to get a better look at it.

Then, without another word, his palm slid to the back of your neck, and he scruffed you.

With a panicked noise, you fell into his chest, breathing hard against the instincts that made you submit to him. It didn't take long at all for that too to die out, leaving you boneless against him.

"I know you don't like being scruffed, honey." You heard him say as he gently hoisted you up into his arms and walked over to the park. "But you can't run away forever. We need you back"

"I le-left..." You slurred; with great effort as he gently deposited your prone form into the passenger side. "I don't...I wan–I wanna go home"

"We are going home" Suguru murmured, buckling you in and kissing your forehead, and again on your slack mouth. "Now sit tight. That'll wear off by the time we get there, don't worry"

You felt sick the entire ride there, like you did this morning. In reality, it couldn't have been longer than 30 minutes. You tried to focus on the scenery, maybe deduce where Suguru could be taking you. But your instincts and mind were all muddled.

Because Suguru scuffed you. Something that alphas did not to reign in their unruly omegas—something that was meant as a last resort. He used the intrinsic trust placed in him by you and he took away your autonomy. You never thought he would do something like that to you.

Your head lolled in the seat as you tried to wait for the effects to run out. Suguru drove with one hand on your thigh; making soft conversation with himself. He didn't seem to mind the fact that the only thing you could get out were incomprehensible little noises.

Just like he said, the effects of the scruffing wore off just as he pulled into the driveway of a luxurious penthouse complex. The sort you would never be able to afford. Your heart dropped right to your ass and when Suguru rounded the car to open the door for you, you fitfully whimpered.

"None of that now," He chided, gently kissing you on the mouth again. You hated how much that relaxed you.

To that, you said nothing, allowing him to hold your hand as he led you inside. The man at the front desk, nor security, seemed to care that there was a fearful smelling omega clutching at one of the alphas. He simply waved a greeting and that was the end of it.

Your body thrummed with nerves as Suguru herded you into the elevator. There was no one else present. A small mercy. Even with the constant touching meant to soothe, you were terrified. You didn't want to be there. You wanted to go home. But you weren't so sure either of them would let you.

At one point (just how high up was this penthouse), Suguru crowded you against the back wall, chuffing into your throat. He didn't seem to mind that your scent stunk of distress. If anything, he just made more soothing noises and rubbed your sides—his own scent smelling completely at ease.

Like this was normal.

The elevator lurched to a stop, and your heart with it. You planted your feet on the floor, a last ditch effort, wildly shaking your head as Suguru made move toward you.

"No, no, I don't—" Want to. You could laugh so hard that you burst into tears. It was clearly obvious that neither of them cared what you wanted. Instead, you tried for a different angle. "He's going to be angry with me"

Suguru glanced at you, and hummed. "Only for a little while" He said, and pulled you out. You could feel the searing warmth of his hand on the back of your shoulders—as if he didn't trust you not to make a break for it at the first chance.

You were completely silent as he led you down the hall. You gnawed at your inner cheek harshly, tasting the copper of blood as he slid the key expertly into the lock. Suguru ushered in you inside with an amused huff and a gentle shove.

Their combined scents slapped you in the face. It was potent, maybe even more so with so much distance and time between you. Even your own place didn't smell this strongly. Openly curious, your eyes traveled around the place.

It looked how you would imagine. Clean, like something out of a magazine. Suguru's work, no doubt. If there was a mess made from dinner, there was no way of knowing. The kitchen was spotless and slightly smelled like cleaning products. The lights were off, save a lamp in the sitting room and a small one over the stove. Satoru was nowhere in sight.

Confused, your steps faltered, clumsily sliding out of your shoes. "Where's—?"

"Here." Suguru said, gentle smile on his face, bangs slightly obscuring his eyes. His hand settled on the small of your back as he once again herded you around. He led you to what you could only assume was their bedroom.

Your stomach churned with nerves. You tried planting your feet again, shaking your head. "W-wait. Wait, I changed my mind. I don't, I want to go home—"

"Ssshh" He soothed, and kissed your cheek from behind. His chest was like a brick wall behind you. He pushed the door open, gently guiding you inside. The door closed behind you both with a click, and the lock sliding into place sounded like the end of any further escape attempts.

Just like the rest of the penthouse, the big lights in the bedroom were killed. There were a couple of floor lamps that illuminated the space into a gentle glow.

And there he was.

Satoru was sitting on a plush chair. He was wearing a large shirt—probably Suguru's, and...a pair of your sheer pajama shorts. You recognized the blue fabric immediately. How long had that set been missing? Why, after three years, is Satoru wearing your lingerie? Why had Suguru kissed you, not once, but twice. Why do neither of them seem to accept the word 'no' for an answer?

The lamp made shadows against his face. He looked sweet, gentle, kind, white hair framing his face as his slender fingers splayed across the book pages. It must have been act. You have never willingly seen him pick up a book. He glanced up at you, and you felt the air around you prickle.

He wore a blank expression. You couldn't tell if he was pissed off or the happiest man on the planet. It wasn't like a couple of days ago—when he saw you and leapt into your arms. Satoru studied you for a few moments, and then tossed the book aside. He waved you over, though not unkindly, somehow, that was worse.

You knew what he expected of you. You turned your head, glanced once more at Suguru. He wasn't going to save you. Not when he wanted the same thing Satoru did. The omega's eyes tracked you as you stepped closer. He widened his legs a bit and sighed pleasurably once you straddled his lap and hugged him.

Of course, three years wasn't nearly enough time for you to unlearn him. Not all of him. You carded your fingers through his hair and let him nuzzle and lick at your chin and cheek.

"I'm really hurt, you know?" Satoru murmured, eyes flickering upwards to meet your own. You said nothing, but nodded to signal that you understood him. "I worked really hard, all week, to make dinner for you. I wanted to make you feel special. And you didn't even show!"

"I'm sorry" You said immediately, because the pout in Satoru's voice was so familiar. As youth, you never did anything truly heinous to him. Your biggest offense was always not giving enough of your attention to him. All you had to do to get back into his good graces was dote on him some, pet his hair and croon about how sorry you were. How you'd always be right where he wanted. "I'm sorry for not showing up, Satoru"

You felt him sag against you at the sound of his given name.

"No you're not" He said suddenly. Terrified, you watched as his expression went from cheery to hard. As if you were nothing. "I don't believe you. You'll leave again. The minute we turn around....you'll leave. You always leave. You're always trying to leave us"

"Ow–ow, Satoru, you're hurting me—"

His hand presses bruises in the shape of his fingertips around your forearm as you foolishly attempt to get up. He quickly follows after you, and the more you fight him, the harder it gets to break your way free. Until you can do nothing but huff, scent tinted with heavy fear and distress.

Satoru's purring now, happy and pleased now that he has you restricted underneath him. He's wrapped himself around you—and the omega is much too tall and gangly for the hold to feel anything but terrifying. It takes great force to relax, trying to project notes of soothing into your scent so that he'll let go of you.

He doesn't. He just purrs louder.

You're forced at an eye level with his mating mark. Only then do you seem to remember that Suguru is still there. His feet sound almost silently as he crosses the room over to the bed. A shadow falls over you both and Satoru lets up only a bit so that you can look the alpha in the eye.

"I get to have her first" Satoru says, voice thin once Suguru attempts to touch. He pulls you in against your chest and restricts your airflow with the strength of it. "Remember?"

"You're going to make her pass out" Comes Suguru's blithe reply, somewhere above you.

Satoru makes a noise of surprise, releasing you all together. You get a handful of seconds max to categorize your positions before everything shifts again as he begins pressing hurried little kisses all over your face. "Lemme make it up to you baby, 'm sorry"

A whimper gets caught in your throat as Suguru maneuvers your form on the bed. You try to fight him, but Satoru pins down your arms as the alpha unbuttons your slacks and pulls them down your legs and then off; tossing them somewhere you can't see.

The omega pulls a face. "I wish you would have worn sexier panties" He says, like he has any right to dictate what underwear you choose. Satoru's fingers find the band and snap them against your hips. Then does it again once you flinch. "Hm. Nevermind. I can sorta see the appeal to these, can't you, Suguru?"

"The simple ones have their charms" He agrees, studying the lower half of your body. "I think the white makes her legs look longer"

Satoru tilts his head and sucks his teeth. "Yeah, you're right. Baby, you've got really pretty legs, you know that?"

Two sets of eyes shift upwards to where you're desperately trying not to cry. You know you should say something. You know you just can't lie there and let them fuck you. But your mind is drawing a blank. Satoru sucks his teeth again and murmurs, why's she upset? And to which Suguru replies, maybe she's tired of you teasing her.

Even if you can somehow get past Satoru and Suguru both, there's no way you're going to escape the penthouse. Much less the locked bedroom door. And what would you do then? Run down to the lobby with no pants on? As you struggle to think of an escape plan (with the dawning horror that there might not be one), the mated pair strip you bare from the rest of your clothes.

Once you're naked and trying to curl up on yourself, you're forced to watch them both makeout. Even when you turn away you can still hear them, Satoru's exaggerated moaning and them swapping spit. It dredges up bad, awful memories. You walking in on them the very first time, Suguru's teeth at his throat, both of them naked from the waist down like they just couldn't wait.

And when Suguru gets a hand on you, rolling you once more onto your back, Satoru snarls and goes—"I get to go first"

"I know that," Suguru says, and has the gall to roll his eyes. "I'm just getting her ready for you, is that okay, you big baby?"

"No" Satoru snaps, petulant. You say nothing, watching with wide fearful eyes, hardly daring to breathe as the alpha and omega regard one another with a series of looks. At last Suguru gives in, hands held up in surrender and Satoru crowds your entire vision, smiling.

"Hi" He says, booping your nose.

"Hello" You reply, sniffling.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't let that brute go first" The omega murmurs, spreading your legs around his waist. Like that's the source of your concern. "You haven't fucked an alpha in a while. I bet his cock would break your poor pussy, wouldn't it?"

The words make it feel more real, suddenly. Satoru is going to fuck you. He found you, tracked you down. Stalker you. Got you to meet him at the cafe with the intention that on Saturday (today), he was going to fuck you. Your omega ex best friend is going to fuck you and his alpha is probably next and there's nothing you can really do about it.

"Please, no, please–" Satoru rolls his eyes, but the words won't stop pouring. "I don't—please. Please don't, Satoru. 'm sorry. I'm not....'m not ready. I can't—"

"Of course you're not ready, silly" The omega says, grinning as he sucks on two of his fingers before bringing them down to your hole. "It's been three years. Did you think I was just going to stick my cock in?"

You try to snap your legs shut, sniffling and whimpering. But Suguru pins down your knees and keeps you spread open. Satoru's fingers are thick, a little longer than what you're used to. They seem to reach deep inside, scooping out most of your coherent thoughts.

It's good, I don't like this, it feels really good, I don't want to do this; I want to go home—

All the while, Satoru shushes your cries, like the sea lapping against rock. Sssh, sssh, sssh. He coos at you, flicks your clit with his thumb to get you wet. Noses along your scent gland and murmurs, "That's it baby, just like that. Feels good, doesn't it? Your omega's makin you reel good"

He seems to have never ending patience. Goes slow until your body feels laden and heavy, pussy noisily sucking in his fingers. Two, then three, Satoru mumbling encouragements while hovering exactly three centimeters away from your face all the while. Reassures you that he isn't mad. Not anymore. Tells you how much he loves you, how happy he is to have you home. How long he's been waiting for this.

It makes you sick. Even worse when the omega pulls his fingers free and you whine, dazedly wanting to feel full again. You don't even try to close your legs again, maybe because Suguru is still there and you know he wouldn't let you. Maybe because you like it and you want Satoru to keep going.

You just lie there, sucking in lungfuls of air and mentally prepare yourself. They'll have to stop sometime, won't they? And then you can leave. All you have to do is endure for a little while, and it'll be over.

Satoru teased you with his cock, smirking. He's more well endowed than what you would expect a male omega to be, but you know from personal experience that Suguru's much bigger. Satoru though, is a little shorter than 6 inches, and pretty girthy. And as much as you hate to admit it, you're glad he's going first.

Because Satoru is right—you haven't had sex with anyone, much less an alpha male, in close to three years. And there seems to be this superstition that omegas are always loose and wet, but that isn't really the case. Of course omegas slick up, but mostly during heat cycles. Outside of that, your pussy is meant to stretch to birth pups, not to take alpha cocks without prep.

"Ready?" Satoru asks, and you bite down on your lip as his cock pushed in. The omega grunts, bucks his hips, and shoves inside all in one thrust. You yelp, legs threatening to snap shut. Satoru smiled smugly against your cheek. "Big stretch, sweetheart, yeah, you can take it. Good girl"

You turn your face into the sheets, keeping your noises trapped behind your teeth as Satoru starts fucking you entirely too quickly. How to describe it? It's unlike anything you've ever felt before. You and Suguru had what most would 'lovemaking'.

He was hardly ever rough with you. It was soft and slow and gentle—like every whispered fairy tale omegan girls told themselves, sighing and simpering amongst their own second gender. This wasn't that.

Satoru was fucking you meanly. Like he was punishing you for leaving even though he swore he wasn't mad anymore. If you moved too much against him, hips trying to get some sort of relief, he would attack your throat, growling lowly until you stopped trying to run.

The noises you tried to bite back escaped, and it was too intense to be called pleasurable, really—it was too much feeling for all of it to feel good. You couldn't describe it, just that your whimpers turned to wails that you were sure others could hear (which only embarrassed you further), hands scrabbling at Satoru's slick sweaty skin.

He delighted in the markings, even if you were sure they had to hurt. He pinned your hips down to the mattress, laving at the skin of your scent gland with his wet tongue as soft, animalistic noises pouring out of his throat.

"We coulda had this the whole time" He grunted, grabbing your chin in his hand and directing your attention back to his face. "Isn't this nice, baby?"

You didn't answer him, you weren't sure you could. A series of strangled gasps left your lips, hand maybe trying to shove Satoru off or pull him closer. "I can't" it's not even higher than a gasp. You register Suguru's hands brushing your hair back. "I c-can't—I can't—please....please"

"Ssssh, it's okay" Suguru, this time. Your eyes lift to meet his, and you realize that your head is pillowed in his lap. You can feel his hard cock jerking against the side of your face, which fills you with disgust. "You're having fun honey, that's all. I know it's a lot. But you're doing so well. I'm proud of you"

You slap your hand over your mouth, mouth making a wild, panicking sound as your orgasm slams into you suddenly like a train. Your vision whites out for a second. You're scared, you've never felt like this before, and you want so badly to go home.

"Yeah, see?" Satoru murmurs, a bit breathless. "We're having fun"

He makes a noise of appreciation, pulling out for a moment to watch your cum trickle out of you in slow trickles before gently, ever so gently, sliding back in again. You make a pained sound, oversensitive, but Satoru just shushes you. He coos, a more omega sound, and that settles your nerves enough to let him continue sliding into your puffy cunt with slow, languid strokes without much protest, save for the occasional whimper.

Suguru suddenly moves. He does not toss your head out of his lap, but he is not all too gentle either. The suddenness throws you off guard, so you miss the look the mated pair share.

Teeth settle over your throat. Instinctively, you suck in a breath, panicked sound caught in your throat, trapped on a plea, right as Suguru bears down and bites. The pain is blinding, and you squeal, to which Satoru easily holds you down, gives a couple of jerky thrusts, and cums.

He rests his head on your shoulder. Both of them do, one on each side. Panting. Hair tickles your neck, your sensitive gland, your face. You join them, caught in a sea of nothingness that seems to bobble as far as the metaphorical eye can see.

You're brought back to the present as someone bites down again. Satoru this time. You don't even struggle. You don't even feel much of anything. Even the pain seems distant. You register him licking the wound clean, followed by the sound of kissing from above.

They marked me, they marked me, theymarkedme how am I supposed to leave–they marked me—

Bonded omegas can't survive without their mates. Not this early. It'll kill you, or the bond sickness will become so bad that death will seem like the merciful thing to endure.

Satoru pulls out. His fingers push his spend back into your cunt. "Hey Suguru?" He says, questioning lilt in his tone. You can feel his eyes piercing into you. "It would be something if I got her pregnant before you did, huh?"

Suguru growls. A proper alpha one that has the hairs raising on your arms and the back of your neck. You start whining, plaintive little noises to try to calm him down—even though you don't care in the slightest. Your mind is suddenly overwrought with alpha mad, alpha's mad at me—

"No, no, not you sweetheart" Suguru murmurs, holding onto your cheek and stroking away your tears with his thumb. "Satoru just got me riled up, that's all"

You can hear Satoru cackling. You try to sit up, body aching. It's hard. Especially when Suguru intercepts the action with a soft, not yet baby—loops that toned arm around your waist and gently turns you over. You find yourself on your hands and knees. Not that the position lasts very long, because he pushes down lightly on your lower back, and you collapse like a house of cards, which delights Satoru greatly.

"Ready?" Suguru asks. Which is pointless. Of course you're not ready. You panic a little in the clutch, whimpering and trying to get away from him, summoning what little fight you have left. All Suguru has to do to put a stop to it is nibble on your mating mark. You turn your face into the sheets with a gasp, breathing in the dank scent of sex as the alpha pushes inside.

He's big. Of course. All alphas are (or so you've heard). Even though you feel like Satoru had fucked you to hell and back already, nothing really quite compares to the way Suguru's cock reaches in deeper, deeper than where Satoru could ever go, and molds your pussy to his shape.

Tears wet your cheeks, and you stile a sob as the alpha bottoms out. He groans, slides out an inch before slamming back in, his balls slapping against your ass.

"I know" Satoru murmurs, sounding almost wistful. You can't tell if he wants to be in your position or if he just wants to fuck you again. Hands that had once pinned you down and restricted your movements now brush the wetness from your face, followed by soft kisses.

"Fuck" Suguru isn't one for cursing. Even in spite of everything, you find yourself thinking, maybe he's changed this way, too. His head must hand forward, because you can feel his hair, like a curtain of ink, sliding over your back.

"Good?"

He nods. You can feel it. The curtain moving. "It's been so long"

"Careful" Satoru says, exposing a hint of teeth. "She was my omega first, and I might get jealous"

"Mmm...I let you have your turn" Suguru replies, running wide hands down the sides of your body. He sounds like he could have been trying for nonchalant, but more realistically, it sounds like he's short of breath.

Maybe it's the bond. Maybe it's just Satoru, who is undeniably closer. But you swear you can feel his breath on your skin.

"Alright, dear" Spittle trickles out of your mouth, and you can only summon a strangled noises as Suguru adjusts your position slightly, notching your hips upwards a bit. His hand rests on the innermost part of one of your thighs to keep you upright. Your eyes meet, or what you can see of him anyway, through blurred tears. "Oh, you really are so pretty. Okay, I'm going to start now"

"Oh, boo" Satoru says, leaning down to literally lick up your drool, kissing your forehead as you attempt to draw back from him. "You never fuck me that gentle"

"You don't like it gentle" Suguru points, and you think he might be rolling his eyes.

You want to protest that this doesn't feel gentle. But Suguru isn't jackrabbiting into your pussy, it's deeper than that. Your hands grip tightly onto the sheets, mewling as he finds your spot with uncanny precision and proceeds to target it ruthlessly. Your mouth cracks open on a moan—and then you just don't stop.

It sounds pornographic. It's made worse with the bond, you think. Suguru's satisfaction scrambles your brain, makes the room feel like it's spinning on a wobbly carousel. It feels like wading into a pool, except the water rushes up far too soon before you're ready, and overwhelms you.

At the bottom of the pool is Satoru. Or perhaps he is the water. Everywhere, inescapable. The beginning and the ends of your psyche. When Satoru fucked you, it felt like entirely too much from the beginning. Too much, too fast, too deep, no time to breathe. It's similar with Suguru, but different too. You don't know which is better or which is worse. All you know is that you want to stop.

There's a shaky cry, a hiccuping gasp that Satoru brushes away as you choke on air, mewling and pleading for mercy. To stop. Neither of them pay you any mind. To them, it's just another part of the fantasy. Your thighs tremble, and then you just...grunt, too exhausted to even move. Suguru adapts brilliantly, follows you down, molds himself to your back, and doesn't let up even for a second.

The bond is chokingly tight. It grips you tighter, and tighter until...

Until everything just goes black.

You wake to the sun shining entirely too bright, a killer headache and an absolutely terrible taste in your mouth. Stomach lurching uncontrollably and body feeling as though you were slammed into a brick wall, you groan and smack your lips; throat scorching hot and dry.

"I know sweetheart," A voice says. It sounds as though it could be nearly angelic. "I bet you've got quite the headache, let me see what I can do about that. Open up"

Dutifully, you crack open your eyelids and pain stabs through your entire form. The voice chuckles.

"Your mouth, darling" Suguru admonishes, playfully. Oh. You do, and small tablets are dropped onto your tongue, followed by a large gush of water to help it all down. Weakly, you guzzle for more, wetting your aching throat. At last, that weird foul taste seems to go away.

Memories suddenly come forward, each one as painful and quick as the last. No, baby, we're not done. You didn't think we were done, did you? With a lurch, your body jerks up so fast that the painkillers (or whatever they were) are nearly thrown up.

"Woah" Suguru whistles "Not too much, too fast. How do you feel?"

Disgusting. Sick. Broken. "I...I don't–not good" You grasp for something. Anything. "Hungry."

The alpha leans in and kisses your forehead. Satoru must feel it through the bond, because you can feel him skimming back. That'll take some getting used to.

"I know, my poor omega" Suguru murmurs "Don't worry. We'll get some food in you soon. Satoru's making breakfast"

That causes your brows to jump to your hairline, even amidst all the pain currently wreaking havoc on your body. Satoru? Cooking? When you were younger you distinctly remembered that he hated anything that could be considered slightly omega-like. Especially since everyone around you framed it as something to be done in service for an alpha.

Cooking, cleaning, babysitting. He refused to do any of it. When he was younger, everyone swore he would grow out of it. He did not. Then everyone just made peace with the fact that his future alpha would have to know what they were getting into, mating an omega as highbrow as Gojo Satoru.

Suguru traced his fingers down the side of the bite, which made your stomach lurch again. "He did it for you; you know? Wanted to impress you. Though if you ask me, I just think he did it so I couldn't take the glory of being the one to make all of your meals"

You're only half listening. Satoru taught himself how to cook. Satoru and Suguru, at some point, must have been thinking about this for a very long time. They knew, somewhere at the back of their minds, that you would not come to them willingly.

Maybe they knew you wouldn't show. That was how Suguru knew how to find you. And then he scuffed you. Fucked you. Both of them. And now there are two burning mating marks on the side of your throat that you can't get rid of.

"I think 'm gonna be sick" You gurgle weakly.

The alpha makes a noise of surprise, and grabs the trashcan just in time for you to hurl into it. He rubs your back all the while, murmurs his little there-there's. Once it's all out of your system, Suguru thumbs away a line of spittle.

"Might have been just a little too rough" He says, "I apologize on both of our behalves. We were...excited"

You squeeze your eyes shut so that you won't cry.

Suguru doesn't wait to see if you'll accept his apology. Maybe he doesn't really care. He got what he wanted from you. The bond flowers, bursts of happiness that take control of your thoughts and whisk them away to a more pleasant place.

One of them....maybe both. They're doing that. They're forcing you to feel good. Not even my thoughts are my own anymore.

"How about a bath?" Suguru says, too close to your face.

"Okay" You say, because what else is there to say.

"Good girl" The alpha responds, and smiles, very obviously happy. He lifts you up (still naked, covered in marks and bruises—and oh god, they didn't stop—even when you passed out they didn't—). "We're going to treat you so well here, darling. It'll be like nothing ever happened, you'll see"

There's a mirror, on the way to the bathroom. You catch a glimpse at the marks marring your throat. Suguru's, deeper, redder, then Satoru's. Like a Venn diagram. The skin between them mottled and puffy.

You lay your head down on Suguru's shoulder. You try to summon the tears to cry, but you can't. It like there's something physically blocking you from those feelings. You wonder how much longer it'll be before you even forget to feel sad and hurt over what happened to you.

As your alpha helps you into the tub, gently scooping the copious amounts of cum out of your cunt, you think to yourself, no one said that mating would make me feel this helpless. It was supposed to be glorious. Magical. Your fairy tale ending. This is a nightmare that you can't wake up from. You feel cheated. You wish you had never accepted Satoru's invitation in the first place.

But really, you snort, and Suguru says, what's funny, quirking his brow and you tell him, nothing. And then you think, realistically, how much longer would you have been to resist them?

Clan girls invoke their own image in her mind. And like her reputation, it isn't a pleasant one. Girls no girl wants to be, but a fate that most aren't lucky to escape. Always omegas, with their soft scents and clear skin. Their pretty figures and hair fashioned neatly. Demure personalities, melodious voices.

Maki doesn't really...like omegas. Doesn't know how to conduct herself around them in a way that won't terrify them. She's an alpha, but a female one, and that's already a rarity. The scars all over her body certainly don't help.

She wasn't too keen on having some clan omega here, sniffling around the school, making her feel unwelcome. Because the clan omegas never come alone. There's always their alpha husband if they're married, or a beta bodyguard of some sort if they aren't. So she avoided you. For months.

You found her one night, wandering the track. Her head was throbbing—because she told Shoko she didn't need to take anything for her migraine. Mostly out of pride, which is beginning to get her into a bit of trouble.

"Oh!" You had said, which shot through her aching head like an arrow. Her instincts latched onto the sound, rolling it around in her mind again and again. Pretty. And you had a nice scent too. "Are you alright, Maki?"

Maki glanced around. It was much too late for her to either pretend she hadn't seen you or make her escape. But where was your...watchful eye?

"How do you know my name?" She asked instead and forced her gaze to soften when she narrowed her steely eyes at you.

You didn't flinch at all. Maybe you were used to it. Instead you smiled. At her.

And she's been gone for you since.

Maki's never believed in any of that alpha bullshit. The whole domineering, controlling act.

Or the whole bit where omegas are the ones 'secretly in control' of their alphas—it's just lie clan girls are fed since they were old enough to comprehend human speech. To keep them docile and harmless. To know that all they have to do to get their alpha husbands to hit them less or to maybe stop them from having so many children is to give him what he wants.

Be sexy. But not too sexy, because alphas don't want whores. They want wives. Soft-spoken, sweet on the eyes. And a figure that'll get them hard. Good with children, unless you're in a bigger clan, where betas and lesser born omegas do all of the hard work for you.

She only knows that bit because she was expected to present as an omega, like Mai. Of course, she hadn't.

Maki isn't some knot-dumb alpha who loses her mind at a nice scent. Not even a really nice one. But what she loses her mind over is this : an omega who touches her arm carefully, who prattles on and on about whatever's caught her attention. An omega who insists on everything being neat and pretty, nice legs and a nape that makes Maki's fangs itch. An omega who is kind. Kind to weaker sorcerers, kind to the auxiliary staff. Kind to people she passes on the street.

To old men, to the beggars, to the children, to the girl running from an alpha who can't take no for an answer. An omega who stands up for the weak in the best way she knows how, who stands up to the strong even when it scares her; makes her breath run quick and her delicate flowery scent turn bitter with fear.

For an omega like that; Maki will do anything to keep her. And she has.

You stir against her. You've actually been awake for some time, but for some reason beyond her, you like to pretend. It's easy to tell— because when you are asleep, you become a terror. You hog the blankets. Sometimes your arms and legs thrash while deep within the land of dreams, causing Maki to be attacked at odd hours of the night.

And every night, against your own will, you end up on the other side of the bed. Sometimes (if she is awake hours before you even think to rouse) one of your limbs will hang precariously off the edge of the bed.

When you do wake, you immediately latch onto her side again. Sweet as a daisy, plastering onto whatever part of her body you can reach. So it's easy to tell.

At this point in the morning, you've been awake for quite some time before Maki just rushes out with it, nerves be damned : "I would like to marry you. If you don't hate that idea"

She feels your smile pressed into her neck. "Why would I ever hate being married to you, Maki?"

"Well—" She flounders, sucking her teeth. "Shit. I don't know. I just. Well I wanted to ask." Isn't it important to know where you both stand, or something like that?

Your giggle spins around inside her brain, like a record stuck on repeat. "Oh-ho." Your gummy smile turns all sweet and bashful, dreamy-eyed gaze. "Are you afraid of what my parents might think?"

Maki snorts and rolls her eyes (mostly to hide the fact that she's blushing). What your parents should think is that they're eternally grateful for the existence of Maki Zenin who murdered her cousin, Naoya, who would have been your husband (that had not been a factor in killing him—she was going to do that anyway). That you still care enough about either of them to still want that connection. That you choose to don your best yukata every Sunday evening to take dinner with them. That their daughter has an alpha who loves her, even if that alpha is Maki Zenin—who is no good for anything.

"My parents think," You begin pointedly, when Maki does not confirm or deny your earlier statement. "Of my happiness. And that my alpha should maybe start planning her proposal, unless she intends to court me for the rest of her life"

Maki heavily doubts that, but says nothing. Your parents are probably waiting for a curse to finally kill her so they can match you up with a better, more virile alpha.

"Well, your parents are probably right" She says instead, pulling you half on top of her and gripping the soft doughy around your hips. "But, for the record, I do not intent to court my omega for the rest of my life and I do, in fact, plan on getting over my insecurities. Because I've already corrupted you, and your parents will be so heartbroken now that I've deflowered their only omega daughter by not claiming her, when I've done everything else"

You giggle again. "You didn't corrupt me, Maki. This isn't the old days" But you squirm on top of her anyway, looking sweet.

"Mhm" Maki hums dryly, and slides her (cold) hand underneath the waistband of your lacey pajama shorts. "So, you weren't a good, sweet girl before you met me?"

"Well—" Your words pitch off into a delicate little sigh as her hand massages your stomach and waist, trailing lower. Something about it makes her fangs itch. She isn't into the whole alpha puritan bullshit, but something makes her smug, knowing she got to you before some other alpha did.

"I bet you were all demure. Pourin tea for your parent's guests. Hung out with other pretty, delicate little omegas. And never talking to alphas, cause they're trouble, that's what your parents told you anyway. And you listen to them, always. I bet you even say your sir's and ma'am's because you're a really good girl. And that means absolutely never letting alphas in your panties, hm?" The words pour out of her mouth like filth, she can't stop.

Your wriggle, trying to coax her hand where you want it. Maki doesn't, because she's trying to feel you up instead, and right now, that's more fun. Her fingers skirt alongside the edge of your panties, before moving to grope your butt and back up to your waist again.

"Maki" You whine, eyes narrowing into little slits. "I'm still good—touch me please. Now. Please?"

She does not, biting her lip instead. She slides her other hand up, massaging your breasts. Fondling them until the nipples grow hard like little pebbles.

You are easily the prettiest omega she's ever seen. And you're pretty like a goddess would be. Ironic, considering she's never cared for them before. Never been the religious type. Yet you must definitely be a goddess sent down to absolve Maki of her wickedness. A goddess that deserves to be laid down and touched, worshipped and sampled like the finest delicacy on Earth.

She feels like a half-crazy fanatic priest—except one with less holy intentions. She wants to lay you down on an alter and get your clothes off so she can feel your body coming alive beneath her hands. So you can squirm all cutely and bat her hands away, except your legs will spread and she will drink the God's ambrosia right from the source.

You whine out her name again, practically pornographic, rubbing and grinding against her for friction. It isn't enough for you, and Maki's tongue pokes against the inside of her cheek to keep from teasing you mercilessly.

"Maybe you were just pretending to be a good girl," She hears herself breathe out. Her hand slides inside your shorts again, this time tracing the lips of your cunt through your panties with her finger, green eyes trained on your face. "With your sugar scent, trying to trap and ensnare an alpha like me. Of course it would have to be me. No other alpha could handle you, because they don't know what you need. How to treat you. But I do, don't I?"

"Yes. Yes, Maki—" You whine again, sounding delicately frustrated. Like Maki not touching your cunt when you want it is somehow the end of the world. "Touch me now, want you to touch me"

Who is she to keep you waiting? Besides, you've always been terrible at this part, the dirty talking. You get all bashful and clammy, face and neck heating up—barely being able to hold her gaze. Or, you end up too fucked out to function right, just whining for more, more, more.

But Maki loves it. She fucking loves the whole shy, desperate thing. Because it's real. It's not some omega trying to cater to her fantasies. But it's you becoming tongue-tied and whiny because you want her to touch you and then more tongue-tied because your brain oozes out of your ears and you never want her to stop.

Maki reigns in her thoughts and gently nudges your panties to the side and firmly drags her fingers through the wet folds of your pussy, not even blinking as your thighs quake and your head tips back with a wavering little moan.

"You were just waiting for me to come for you, weren't you baby?" Maki finds herself thinking of Naoya, and how he was everything she has ever hated about Jujutsu, and the world. About how he will never get to see this or work his fingers against you slow and delicate to drive you up a wall. Thinks of all the alphas out there with wonderful omegas who probably don't even know how to make them cum outside of their heats.

"I was, I was-" You nod, ever so eager to please.

"Not your fault," Maki coos, and snakes her other hand back up to your tit. "I should've came for you sooner. I took too long, left my omega craving for something she couldn't even understand she wanted" Really, she should have known. "I should have realized it when we met. Should have just asked you to marry me when we were at the track, remember?"

"I remember," Comes the sweet, airy reply. "Marry me now; Maki. We can just get married now"

Maki has to yank you down, burying her face into your neck to mask her groan. God, that was so cute. Her entire face flushes with heat. She loves that about you. She's no good with words—says very little or the first thing that comes to her mind. But you seem to pluck words out of thin air and whisk them into something incredibly beautiful and real.

No way in hell can she pass you up. The thought of another alpha getting to have what she does makes her want to snarl and bite.

"How do you want it?" Maki pants, and she meant to sound more confident. More in control. Cool and level-headed. But you undo her. Her fingers run up your side. "It's your wedding baby, how do you want it?"

You sigh, eyes closed, completely blissed out against her. "I want you to fuck me"

"Are you sure?" She inquires. You've been together for some time now, but she always asks. She trusts you and she knows that you wouldn't do something just because she likes it. But she can't help but—it could. Ugh. There she goes again, all ineloquent.

The last thing Maki ever wants to do is force you.

Because she likes it. Maybe too much. She doesn't like feeling like one of those alphas—doesn't want to be reminded of the shitheads in the Zenin she grew up around. But there are very few things in the world that are better than being inside of you.

"'m sure" You coax, rolling off of her and onto your back, showing her the most vulnerable parts of yourself with ease. Then you giggle. "It's our wedding night, right? And I want my wife to take care of me"

Nevermind the fact that it's midmorning. Nevermind that there's no ring and there has been no ceremony and she hasn't even proposed. But that does it for her. My wife. She wasn't expecting it...to have this much of an effect. But it literally makes her mind spin and she feels all dizzy with it. The last name Zenin wouldn't be so awful if you had it, she thinks. Or would she rather have yours? Belong to a family, for once in her life?

No. It's obvious that you two would share them. Swap them like hoodies and shoes and everything else.

Mind made up on the matter, Maki surges down to kiss you (luckily, you say nothing on the fact that she had done nothing but stare at you for a handful of minutes—a part of her realizes you're used to it). She gets her leg between your thighs and lets you ride her thigh for a moment.

It's a sight. The wet patch on your panties, sliding back and forth in view, and then gone again—always garnering her eye. The huffed, quiet little breathing. The fact that all she has to do is lie there and let you use her for her pleasure. That her body does something other than maim or kill.

But no. She can't let you finish like that. Her baby wants to get fucked, so Maki's going to fuck you. Still (like you hadn't asked for it), you whine when she moves her leg in order to strip you of your clothes.

She can't help it when she says, still shuddering around a lungful of air, "Be patient. My bride deserves something a little more than some filthy grinding" The word bride tentatively, unsure—wholly experimental in nature. Wants to see if you like it the same way she likes hearing the word wife come out of your lips. But there's still that edge to it, slightly playful; safe. Plausibly deniable. A joke, if you don't—

"Oh, fuck" You gasp, reedy and entire body squirming, seeking out friction from her body where there is none. "Maki, please"

Maki grind. Yeah. She had a feeling you'd like it.

Her hands quickly move onto the next task. Finding a pillow and shoving it underneath your hips and then pulling your sticky panties off, exposing your thighs. The smell of your wet cunt, ready to be bred, slaps her in the face, and she thinks she does a great job at self control by not sticking her face in your pussy to get a taste.

"Look at you," Maki murmurs, a hint of genuine wonder in her voice. You get all squirmy from the tone, caught between bashful and stupidly-fucking-horny, lashes kissing your cheeks. "Wow, you're so beautiful"

"Jeez, Maki—" You grumble, though it sounds exasperated and embarrassed rather than annoyed. Not that it matters, because the rest of your slick remark is cut off by a whiny oh! when her fingers press inside.

Despite your needy protests, Maki doesn't rush through this. Prepping is always her favorite part and she kills for some good foreplay. Most alphas would want to rush through it and knot up, but not her. She likes the tension, likes dragging the moment all the way out; taught and thin. Sweat beads along her forehead but she ignores it, eyes practically unblinking as two fingers become three and hinting at maybe four.

It's the control, she thinks. Knowing that without a shadow of a doubt that she knows you're ready. That she can guide you along, make it real good. Of course you can beg and whine for her cock, that you can take it, but Maki likes to be sure. Even when your hands claw at the sheets and your thighs start shuddering like you're about to cum.

"Maki" You whine, sounding put-out that you aren't getting your way. Your hands stop trying to rip the sheets apart to instead tug her shirt off of her head. Not that you can, considering the fact that you've been fucked dumb by her fingers. You grow frustrated, lashes clumping with tears and then you grab her and yank her down so close her nose bumps awkwardly into your cheek. "Oh, god. Get on with it! Maki, please, get the fuck on with it!"

"So bossy" Maki tuts, but does like you've asked. Sitting up on her haunches to pull her shirt off, abs clenching as you run your fingers reverently over her muscles. "What happened to that sweet girl who says her please's and thank you's?"

"You married her" You say smartly, looping your arms around her neck like it's your first dance at prom. There's something that twinkled in your eyes, mischief or fondness, maybe. Makes her feel stupidly fluttery inside. "I'm your wife now, remember?"

Maki kisses the side of your face and guides her cock in. "How could I forget?" She murmurs and then hisses through her fangs when your syrupy cunt starts spasming around her cock, oversensitive. She tucks her face down into your neck, gnawing on your shoulder as gently as she can manage so that she doesn't do something stupid like bite.

Her hips churn inside, fucking in with deep thrusts, the sound of your moaning like the heavenly sound of a choir in her ears.

"How're so tight?" Maki grunts, planting one of her hands in the mattress and another gripping tight around your clammy, sweat-slick skin. Her ears pop, like she's way up high, or down in the deepest depths of the ocean. "Almost—almost could believe it's your first time. Like you saved yourself for me. For our wedding night"

That pulls a loud, punched-out cry from your throat. You tip your head back, body quivering and shaking. Those big eyes slip shut and then open, and then shut again, accompanied by your startled, rabbit-fast breathing. God, you're so beautiful. Your arms are constantly moving, like they don't know exactly what to do with themselves, and your tits bounce every time Maki fucks back in. She makes a quick game of it, really clearing her head and fucking it how you like, practically drooling with her eyes focused entirely on your tits.

"Oh, oh, uh, uhn, Mak–Maki"

"Don't worry, I won't tell" She murmurs. She shifts herself again, puts one of her hands on your stomach and pins you down because you keep trying to run from it. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're still that proper little omega. That you didn't let your bad alpha in this pussy before your wedding night"

The idea of marriage and a family—those things used to belong to a world where Maki knew she wasn't welcome. Something like that, a sense of belonging, a home. Things like that wasn't something someone like her was allowed to have.

Of course, all of that changed when she met you. Averse to omegas as she was, scared of their rejection and the isolation...she wanted you. The first time you met and you smiled at her, she wanted you. She likes to think that she sees the world like you do now, something that is capable of goodness and change.

Maki wants so much she feels sick with it sometimes. Like that part of her that says you don't get to have nice things is trying to rear its ugly face again. But she wants to parade you around under the noses of other sorcerers. Wants to show them a free omega, one not constricted to their pointless rules and expectations. She wants to kiss you in public, in front of the more traditional idiots who don't still believe that female alphas are an abomination or that women, regardless of second gender, shouldn't find happiness in one another.

She wants smaller things too. A kid too. Maybe twins. Maybe like what she and Mai could have been. Wants to watch you on the front porch with them, suckling at your breast. Or maybe both of you stressing about winter fevers or what color to paint to nursery or that awful bittersweet tragedy of that first day of school and all of the firsts that follow behind it. She wants, she wants.

Your arms surge up, pulling her down for a messy, spit-slick kiss. Maki's lower back twinges with discomfort at the position, but she's quick to readjust. Guides your leg around her waist, though it slips a few times before you realize what it is she wants from you. With your body securely in place, Maki finds that rhythm again. Fast, hard, like she's trying to catch lightning in a bottle all while your shuddery cries turn into wails.

I think you were made for me.

The thought is crass, cringe, and Maki doesn't really shes said it out loud until you're echoing her—made for you, made just for you, Maki, pleasepleaseplease, fuck. But it's true. Maybe the two of you were made for one another. Stars plucked out of the sky and formed into humans bodies that would eventually find one another, no matter the distance between them.

There had been times when she had seen you, or startling moments in passing conversation when she had wondered, is any of this real? Is this a hallucination? Some sort of guardian angel? How was it possible for someone to be so perfect? You love Maki the way she's always wanted to be loved.

You need her, but that is not the limit of your love. More apt, you see her. All the scary things she doesn't want to admit. You dig your hands into the center of her being with your smile and say, Maki, none of this is ugly, this is just who you are. And your hands touch her soul maybe–

"Maki"

"Yeah, yeah, I know" She grunts, shifting just so her cock nudges into that bundle of nerves that makes you cum with a strangled shout, your nails scratching long marks down her back. Her vision whites out for a second, fuck, so close. But she doesn't want to do too much, wraps her fingers around the base of her cock with the intention to pull out. But you latch onto her wrist with another cry.

"Don't," You slur, more dazed than anything else. "You can—inside. Wan' it inside. Please, alpha"

"Oh, fuck," Maki curses, hurtling right out of her own body, coursing through space and time itself. She curls over your body, doesn't let an inch of your skin go uncovered by her own. Your mouths are close. She'd kiss you if either of you could actually manage the coordination to do so.

Your body goes soft, pliant. Trusting. She rocks in with shallow thrusts, blindly chasing her orgasm, growling and rumbling into your sweaty skin. She's not going to last much longer, and she doesn't—and Maki pictures a rubber band being pulled so taught it snaps—and then she cums inside of you.

She slumps against you, entirely spent. Gingerly, weakly, completely fucked out, your arms wrap around her, purring with the content. You're both too tired to do much of anything but catch your breath. But the words keep spinning inside of her head anyway, mine, mine, mine, mine.

"Do we even know enough people for a wedding, anyway?" You broach later, once you've both returned to the land of the living. Maki's between your legs with a wet rag, gently wiping you clean.

"Hm?"

"When we're kids, they all tell us," 'They' of course being your clans. Older omegas and the betas in charge of the lessons and schooling. "They tell us we're all going to have alphas who love us, and big, beautiful weddings. I went to my cousins wedding once, I was the flower girl, except I was a bit old. It was big. Lots of people"

Maki smiles despite herself. "Yeah?"

"Yeah" You say assertively, and then nod. "Who's gonna be your maid of honor? Kugisaki?"

"Absolutely not" She snorts, and flings the thing aside, crawling up to your body again. "We're supposed to actually make it alive to the wedding, you know? Kugisaki's bachelorette will kill us both."

"Maybe we can ask Nanami to give the speech" You mumble, cute and sleepy. "I think he would make a nice speech"

"And he can keep Gojo in check, more importantly"

That remark sends you into wild peals of laughter. Something, her heart, she thinks; warms. The pair of you go silent for a bit. Maki is thinking about how you really don't know anybody. Between the two of you there's your parents, and Gojo. That Itadori brat and her cousin Fushiguro. Nanami, Yuta. Sorcery does not exactly ensure a very rambunctious lifestyle and everyone truly important to her is dead.

She loses herself in another timeline. One where sorcerers and curses don't exist. Or at the very least, one where neither of your families are involved. Imagines herself as someone less broken. Maybe the two of you are childhood friends. Mayne you are high school sweethearts.

Maybe she has a scrapbook of her dream wedding, because she is a normal girl who doesn't have to fight curses. Maki's face scrunches in confusion. What would a normal girl even look like, and would she still recognize herself is she were? Would you?

"Maki?" You ask, voice soft and strong enough to break through the murkiness of her thoughts. She hums, noncommittal and turns her face so that she can kiss you lazily for a few seconds. "Where were you?"

"Nowhere important," Maki replies, and means it. She runs her hand down the middle of your back and bites back a sharp grin at the full body shudder the action rewards her with. She means it though.

Right here is exactly where she wants to be.