Kisses 4 clones

You can barely hide your smile at how she rolled her eyes at the mention of her fellow packmate.

“It’s why I wanted to talk to you, actually.” She shifts a little closer. Her eyes are soft from the lack of sleep as she gazes at you. “I heard you’re part of a matchmaking program.”

You nod. She glances away. Shoko almost looks sheepish.

“I was wondering if we’d be able to join.”

A smile stretches across your face.

“Of course! What time do you think you could come in?”

☕︎

You didn’t expect Shoko to present as Alpha.

You two were childhood friends. Being older than her, it was more like you were a babysitter–not that you minded the role. Shoko was a quiet kid even in her younger years. You liked that she often trailed behind you, like your own shadow. It was flattering in its own way. You never had any siblings, so you often regaled her as your younger sister.

You thought she’d be a beta like you. Or maybe even omega. Alpha was the last designation you would’ve ever given a girl like her. Just like you, she had two beta parents–being anything else was close to impossible.

But, looking back, the signs were always there.

The scuffle wasn’t the worst you’d ever seen. Fights are normal, especially for kids around your age. Emotions run high, sometimes. If left unsupervised, children don’t usually have healthy outlets.

Shoko wasn’t a kid you’d ever picture getting into a fight, yet the evidence was clear. It looked worse than it actually was. You can see remnants of dirt clinging to her youthful cheeks from when she took the fall. Her clothes were lightly scraped, as was the skin on her knees. It was nothing a Band-Aid couldn’t fix.

You hadn’t seen what happened. You had been on the other side of the playground when the yelling happened. Shoko barely struggled when you pulled the kids apart. The other girl was crying. Shoko wasn’t. Being the older one, you decided it was best to end the day right then and dragged Shoko home.

The girl was always quiet, but that walk was like talking to stone. She never budged from her clamped lips and tightened fists, no matter how hard you prodded. A part of you understood why. She was probably resigning herself to her parents’ beratement. She didn’t need a lecture from you, too.

Just when you were about to give up completely, she gave in.

“She said she was your friend.” She told you quietly.

“The girl with pigtails?” You asked

Shoko nodded. “She called you her friend, even though you’re mine.”

You glanced down at her hand, tightly clasped on your own.

“I can be both of your friends.” You gently tried to suggest.

She shook her head. Her grip tightens.

“No.” She said with a finality you’ve never seen in a child before. “Only mine.”

☕︎

Despite being well into the modern era, alpha-and-omega matchmaking programs haven’t lost popularity. It’s become a multibillion-dollar industry. Nowadays, instead of being sold off for political power, omegas and alphas can simply go to their local agency to find their mates.

Obviously, betas like you aren’t permitted to join, but you are highly encouraged to become matchmakers. Neutral scents are helpful when it comes to finding alpha-omega pairs. It’s comforting to omegas and non-threatening to alphas. Betas can not only act as matchmakers but also as barriers if things go awry.

You highly doubt that you’d need to be the latter, however, for this pack.

They arrive ten minutes before the official appointment. You knew Shoko had something to do with that because you doubt Satoru ever lost his lazy streak. Having no client, you decide to take them in early.

Satoru’s just as chatty since the days from highschool. He trails behind you as you lead the group to your office, asking about your day and then telling you about his. You didn’t think he’d be a teacher, but he always managed to surprise you.

Suguru is reserved but friendly. He greets you after Satoru’s tight hug, giving one of his own. You heard he now heads a Buddhist temple, though you never considered him the religious type. It’s hard to imagine him in traditional clothes after seeing him in casual wear and a high school uniform for so long.

“Didn’t expect you to be part of a breeding program.” Satoru comments after you’ve shuffled them into your office. He leans in, probably to inhale your scent again. They’ve all done that once or twice. Satoru’s just not as subtle as the other two.

It’s an alpha thing. Omegas and alphas are different from betas. Unlike you, they rely more on pheromones to guide them around the world. He hasn’t seen you in a while; it’s normal to see if your scent has changed.

“We try not to call ourselves that.” You lightly respond, settling behind your office. “Trust me, it’s not as intense. All we do today is look over what you want in a mate—basic preferences. Then I can pair you up with whoever fits best. What you do after is entirely up to you.”

It’s a bad joke. Only Satoru smiles.

You clear your throat.

“So, did you have anything in mind?”

They exchange glances. You, completely used to losing alphas, continue briskly.

“We’ll start with broad strokes,” you tell them. “Obviously, you want a mate who’s open to a pack, right?”

“Yes.” Shoko agrees.

You type it across your keyboard. Alpha packs do a lot better in the program compared to single alphas. Often, your omega clients specifically requested them. You doubted you would have any trouble finding a match for these three.

“Perfect. Any age preference? Younger, older—“

“—older.” Satoru interrupts. Suguru elbows him, but Satoru doesn’t waver. “Definitely older.”

Suguru and Shoko don’t look particularly happy at his intrusion, but nobody objects. You add it to their profile.

“Any particular scents?” You ask.

“Not too sweet,” Suguru says. “Something more neutral.”

Satoru doesn’t look too interested in this topic. “What he says.”

Shoko is more concrete with her answer.

“Earl Grey.”

You try not to react to that, typing it into their profile with little hesitation.

“I think that’s enough for now.” You hurry along. “Do you have any education or work expectations?”

“Not particularly,” Shoko responds. “I think we’re looking more for a homemaker type– someone willing to settle down for pups.”

You had a feeling. Alpha packs are more interested in being providers, caring for their omega mate who is cuddled in a nest. Most omegas feel the same way. It’s a fairly symbiotic relationship.

“What about you?” Satoru asks.

You look up at him.

“Pardon?”

“Are you thinking of settling down? Having kids and all that?” He continues.

“Satoru.” Suguru chastises, but there’s nothing sharp in his voice. Shoko says nothing. Her warm, honey eyes always felt piercing. You always chalked it up to yet another alphan trait.

You shrug, thinking nothing of the question.

“Quit my job for a mate, you mean?” You ask before you shake your head. “I don’t think I could. I think I’d only be able to do it for a specific person, but I don’t think a person like that exists.”

Besides, you love your job. You love helping people find matches and life-long mates. Why would you ever give that up for children?

“But if that person did exist–”

“Satoru.” You interrupt. “We’re looking for a match for you, not for me.”

He huffs, leaning back in his seat, almost like a scolded child.

“Fine.” It almost sounds like a whine. You try not to laugh.

The rest of the appointment proceeds smoothly. Half an hour later, you’re able to gather additional specifications and preferences. Unlike the first few questions, the three are far more lax with their answers. Typically, after the first session, you’re able to put together matches off the top of your head. For whatever reason, these three were far too vague for you to get a clear idea.

“I think I can figure things out from here.” You tell them when the hour is up. “Would you be ready to meet your potential matches in a week or so?”

Suguru genuinely looks surprised. “I didn’t realize it would be so quick.”

“It’s more for trial than anything else.” You respond. “Don’t feel pressured if you aren’t ready.”

“That’s fine,” Shoko tells you. “Will you be with us when we meet them?”

“Of course not.” You assure. “I’ll just give you their profile. Whatever happens next is entirely up to you.”

You expect her to look relieved. She says nothing. None of them do.

“In any case, it was really nice seeing you three again!” You say when you lead them out to the door. “I wonder why we never met up after high school?”

Satoru frowns as he returns your hug. “It’s ‘cuz you practically ran away from us, remember?”

You wouldn’t necessarily call graduating and moving to college ‘running away’. Still, you laugh.

“I’ll try not to do that from now on.” You tell him. “You still have my number, right?”

Satoru’s still whining as you walk them through shiny glass doors. Suguru offers to buy you lunch, to which you decline. You had another client in a few minutes.

“One more thing before you go.” You call out just before they leave. “I’m a little curious: what made you decide to join the program?”

The three look at eachother. A secret conversation only alphas could ever have.

“We got tired of waiting,” Suguru answers.

Later, you realize that isn’t much of an answer.

☕︎

The three weren’t always this close. You could distinctly remember a time Shoko hated the other two.

Your community was mostly betas, with a small number of omegas. Until then, Shoko lived her school life as the sole alpha for miles around. Being her senior, you constantly worried about her. Alphas weren’t betas. There would always be a missing link between the two of you, no matter how hard you tried to accommodate her. As much as Shoko assured you otherwise, you knew a part of her would always feel that void.

And then, Gojo and Geto came along.

Both alphas. Both in the same year as Shoko. They exemplified the look of Alpha. Both of them towered well over the rest of their peers, already well over six feet despite their ages. When they smiled, you could see glimpses of silvery-white fangs. Being the only alphas in the entire grade, they were extremely interested in Shoko. You were ecstatic, happy to see your friend finally make friends with others.

Shoko was less than enthusiastic.

You didn’t understand why she wasn’t perceptive towards them. When they tried to extend their friendship, she raised her hackles, and her eyes would darken. She was well past her days getting into fights on the playground, but you were sure she was close to snapping on certain occasions.

Gojo and Geto continued to hover around her, despite her hostility. Since you were her friend, they hovered around you, too.

You tried to be a bridge for the three. Shoko hardly ever rejected your invitations to hang out. When the other two tagged along, that fact never changed, but she never seemed happy about it. She’d latch onto your arm, baring her teeth when the other two got a bit too close for her liking. You stopped initiating those hangouts as her clinginess often got far too debilitating.

“You need to be more social.” You finally told her.

“No.” She responded stiffly, her voice muffled by your shoulder.

You two sat on the school rooftop underneath a sunny, cloudless sky. Even on days like these, it was sparsely populated. Most of the student body preferred to have their lunches in the cafeteria or the courtyard.

“They’re being nice.” You urged. “They’re being so nice, and I can’t be your only friend forever.”

“Why not?” She asked.

You rolled your eyes, jostling her ever so slightly.

“I just can’t.” You insisted because you have bigger dreams than being stuck in a tiny town, you know, that has no future. There was a life outside of this place.

Also, you didn’t like being Shoko’s only friend. There’s a reason why she’s so protective of you–possessive at times. It’s an alpha thing: they can’t help but take and keep. Her possessiveness was terrible in her younger years, but at least now she’s a tiny bit better about you having other people to hang out with. Still, she refuses to become closer to anyone but you. Even in middle school, she barely had a handful of acquaintances she was quick to abandon in favor of you. It’s not healthy to be so isolated like that. You worried for her.

She’s about to say something, but then something sour crossed over her face. Shoko hunched over as she melded herself further into your side. You abandoned your chastising and gathered her up in your arms.

Shoko’s ruts were severe. She was almost always out of school those days. Even after her rut passed, she took days to recover. She was weakened and intensely more irritable in the aftermath. The only good part of her ruts was that in the days after, her scent became stronger, even to your weak betan nose. Shoko's scent reminded you of summer turning into fall. A low hill. A grassy plain. A dessert just after a large rainfall. Unlike the few alphas you knew of, her scent wasn't overly invasive. It was clean, and low, and rumbling. 

For Shoko, certain vices eased the agony. Nicotine helped, but you never liked the way the smell of cigarettes clung to her body. You tried to help the best you could, letting her cuddle you in quiet places away from prying eyes, rubbing her scent all over you to self-soothe.

But there was a limit a beta could do.

Her volatile ruts were yet another reason to be closer to Geto and Gojo. Alpha pheremones help other alphas. Just being in proximity to another would be enough to steady herself.

Shoko knew this, and yet she remained stubborn.

“You don’t get it,” she whispered after her episode passed. Her eyes were shut as she leaned further into your space.

“You can’t smell them like I can.”

You tilted your head, about to prod further, when Shoko opened her eyes. Her lips twitched into a frown. Less than a heartbeat later, the rooftop door flung open just as a giddy Gojo called out, ‘Found you!’ with a satisfied Geto trailing just behind him.

Shoko barely held back a growl as you pulled her off her feet to greet the other two, quickly forgetting her words. No matter how resistant she was, your determination to get her closer to the other two never faltered.

But sometimes, even you wondered if they were right for each other.

You never meant to eavesdrop. You and Shoko always walked home together; it’s the only reason you made your way to her homeroom, wondering what the hold-up was. She never made you wait. If anything, you always arrived after her.

It looked like a fight, but why would Gojo and Geto smile if they were fighting?

Shoko sat at her desk. She barely packed. You saw notepads and pencils scattered across her space. Gojo sat backwards on the desk right in front of her, hands crossed on the chair as they stared eachother down. Geto stood a little way away.

They were already in mid-conversation. You barely caught the tail-end of it.

“-Who cares who marked who first?” Gojo said, an overdramatic pout arched over his lips.

“You should really learn how to share, Ieiri.” Geto continued because back then, they weren’t on a first-name basis yet. “It’d be better for all of us if you did.”

“You know that’s not natural, right?” Shoko responded; her honey eyes were no longer rich and warm. “You should give up.”

“Shouldn’t you, too, then?” Geto wondered.

The conversation ended the second Shoko noticed you. She stood up in a rush, barely shoving her things in her backpack before she marched up to you and dragged you away with a harsh grip on your arm. You could barely wave to your other two underclassmen before you were carted away by her.

You never asked, abandoning the curiosity as soon as you saw the expression on her face. You always wondered what would have happened if you had arrived just a bit later.

☕︎

Utahime wrinkles her nose before she enters your apartment.

“You smell like him.” She gripes.

You tilt your head before remembering there’s only one alpha in the world that made her face twist up like that.

Satoru always had a habit of scenting you in high school. You may not be able to smell it, but other omegas and alphas can. You scolding him while he sulked on his desk like a puppy wasn’t an uncommon sight. Obviously, he hadn’t broken the habit.

“I’ll have to talk to him about that.” You frown. “I don’t think omegas will like the idea of him scenting a beta.”

The omega perks up. “Wait, he’s joined the program?”

“All three of them, actually.” You tell her as you both settle down in your kitchen. “I managed to set them up with an omega just a couple of days ago.”

Your omega client seemed absolutely thrilled when you told him. Alpha packs are growing more uncommon by the day, so he was right to be excited about it. You hope it went well. He matched most of the pack's wants, so you don’t think it will end in complete shambles.

Utahime still looks unconvinced. “I didn’t think they went for omegas.”

You understood what she meant. In high school, those three never seemed interested in omegas. Shoko was friendly with Utahime, but Satoru always picked on her, and Suguru occasionally joined in. At first, you assumed it was a ‘pulling on the pigtails of the girl you liked’ situation, but their teasing often felt hostile.

“Maybe they finally grew up.” You tell her. “Do you ever wonder who the pack leader is? I never had the chance to ask them, but I always wondered.”

Asking about that kind of thing is a bit rude, especially if you weren’t a potential omega. You’ve seen other packs before, and it’s typically pretty easy to tell who the pack leader is. It’s usually the one who’s always biting the others down, keeping them in place. Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru aren’t like that. They work so well-together, it gets hard to tell who’s really calling the shots.

Utahime snorts. “It’s obviously Gojo.”

“Obviously?” You echo.

“His scent is the strongest. That’s usually what determines it,” She explains, not sounding too interested. “I bet he whined and whined until the other two gave in.”

You felt bad for laughing, but you could honestly imagine that.

“I’m really surprised Shoko’s still with them.” You continue. “I know they’re all pack, but she’s so different compared to the other two.”

Satoru was the most outgoing, but Suguru had his own quirks. Shoko was the odd one out, you always felt.

Utahime shrugs, rifling through her bag. “Maybe they have more in common with each other than you realize.”

For a bit, the topic of the three is dropped. You let Utahime ramble about her work and how her students are doing as she sets out her newest creation: a chocolate raspberry cake.

Omegas have certain quirks when their heat approaches. Utahime bakes–something you take full advantage of. You would feel bad about begging her to bring over her desserts all the time, but Utahime never seemed to mind your desperation. Like most omegas, Utahime's scent was slightly stronger. Now, even your weak betan nose could catch a whiff of her scent in the air. She smelled gentle, like flowers dancing in the wind on the side of a grassy mountain. 

“This is incredible.” You moan when you take another bite of chocolate goodness. It practically melts on your tongue. “Can you be my mate? I’d make you happy, I swear.”

She looks away. “Shut up.” There’s no heat in her voice.

“Have you considered it, though?” You wonder, inhaling another slice. “Joining the program, I mean. I can think of a few alphas that might interest you.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think my type is in the program, and besides.” Her face turns disgusted. “Now that Gojo’s in it, I’m not taking any chances.”

You laugh. “I’d make sure to never pair you up, I promise!”

She huffs again. Your voice quietens as you remember something.

“Hey, I was wondering…what do I smell like again?”

She frowns. “Why do betas always ask that? You need to get better noses.”

“Just remind me.”

She rolls her eyes, but she acquiesces.

“You smell the same as always,” she tells you. “Like Earl Grey & Cucumbers.”

By the end of the week, you finally get the call you were waiting for.

You pick up on the second ring and immediately press the speaker button.

“Hiro!” You trill, making yourself comfortable on the sofa. “How have you been?”

Your omega client responds in kind. You make small talk until you eventually bring it up.

“So,” you ask, “how did the date go?”

You expect a barrage of excitement and blabbering. Hiro is a sweet guy. You could tell he would mesh well with those three. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for making such a good match.

“It went okay.” His answer stills.

“Okay?” You repeat.

Just okay? You expect something far more than such a simple answer.

At your silence, Hiro continues.

“Maybe okay isn’t the best word. I liked them but…” he trails off. “I don’t think they liked me very much.”

“Huh,” you say, tapping your fingers. “What did they say exactly?”

“Not much, I mean, they were nice. I just don’t think our personalities meshed well. They were all so quiet, I felt like I was doing most of the talking.”

“Quiet? Even Satoru?”

“I don’t even think he spoke,” Hiro confesses.

You do not think the word quiet appeared in Gojo’s dictionary. He constantly chattered, unable to let the world forget he existed for hardly a moment. It was a major reason you paired Hiro with them. He is just as bubbly. You thought he and Satoru would work really well together.

“Wow,” you say after a while. “I’m sorry, I really thought things would work out between you four.”

“It’s fine,” Hiro responds, just as disappointed. “Plenty more fish in the sea, right?”

You once again tell Hiro your apologies before hanging up. Weird, you usually had more trouble appealing to your omega clients compared to your alpha ones. Maybe this would be a lot harder than you initially assumed.

☕︎

Halfway through your second year, Geto joined the newspaper club.

You were ecstatic when he told you. Shoko couldn’t participate in any early-school activities due to her poor sleep habits, and you doubt Gojo would’ve enjoyed them. Having somebody you knew do an activity you enjoyed was really exciting. It was something you and he bonded over, much to Shoko’s chagrin.

When you had club projects together, it was common to go over to one or the other’s houses. You liked Geto’s house. It wasn’t so large, not like Gojo’s sprawling mansion you’d had the misfortune of getting lost in once or twice. Geto’s home was vibrant and warm, filled with splashes of color and properly decorated furniture.

His parents were nice too. You liked the snacks they brought out, more than happy to indulge in the intricate sweets they prepared.

His parents were a proper alpha-omega pair. His alphan-father was boisterous and hearty in a way that reminded you of Gojo. His voice was loud, and his laugh practically rang through the halls.

His omegan-father was a bit on the meek side. You could count the number of times he’d directly spoken to you. His voice was soft–a complete contrast to his mate. He often resigned himself to quietly nodding along with whatever his husband rambled on. You could count the number of times he’d directly even looked at you.

Once, when Geto was still rummaging upstairs for something or another, you wondered out loud how they met. The alpha was more than happy to tell you the story of how he met his omega. You learned that they were childhood friends before the omega decided to part ways for a bit. Eventually, they reunited and got mated soon after.

“You waited for ten years?” You asked in awe. “Did you ever consider moving on?”

The alpha laughed before shaking his head, “Never.” He told you with a smile. “When alphas find their mate, nothing can keep them away, not even time.”

Geto’s other father stood in the kitchen, dutifully wiping down a counter. He didn’t react when his husband told you about their love story. You could only assume he was used to it.

“That’s beautiful.” You gushed.

There’s a secret smile on the alpha’s lips before Geto marches downstairs, leading you out the door with a glare directed at his father.

“Ignore him,” Geto told you as you trekked to school. “He tells that story to every person he can.” There’s a roll of his eyes, and he failed to hide his embarrassment.

“I think it’s sweet.” You kindly told him as he averted his gaze. “I don’t think I could wait ten years for someone like that.”

Geto considered you for a moment.

“I don’t think I could, either.” He finally admitted. “At the very least, I would get impatient by the end of it.”

You thought you were about to agree when your phone beeped. You glanced at the notification, and your heart skipped a beat.

Takahashi<3: I’m free after school:)

You barely hid your smile. Geto didn’t miss your sudden giddiness as you typed away on your phone.

“Did something happen?” He asked.

You shook your head and placed your phone back into your pocket.

“I think I have a date later.” You told him, oblivious to the twitch on his lips.

“A date?” Geto echoed. You cheerfully nodded.

You liked Takahashi since the start of the school year. He was in your homeroom, and you were already close acquaintances. You wanted to get closer to him, but Shoko often thwarted your plans. She made her distaste in Takahashi extremely clear. You tried not to get too upset by her attitude. She was protective of you and probably thought you could do better. It’s what friends did.

“Maybe we should keep this from Shoko.” You told Geto right before the school gates. “She doesn’t really approve of the guy.”

Geto hummed. “I’m not surprised.”

The day passed on as it normally would. You trudged through your sludge of classes and waited for school to finally be over. When it did, you practically jumped from your seat, barely waving off your friends as you rushed out of the school gates.

Takahashi wasn’t waiting for you, but you didn’t mind. You could take some time to calm your nerves.

You waited.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

You sent him a text.

Eighteen minutes.

You sent another.

Students filtered past you, eager to abandon their homework in favor of arcades and hanging out with their friends. You remained where you were, feeling your excitement drain the longer Takahashi refused to show his face.

After nearly an hour of waiting, you gave up. He wasn’t coming. You wanted to call him, but you can’t bring yourself to. Embarrassment crept up your shoulders and neck. You felt so stupid for even waiting around for this long.

They caught up to you when you were halfway home, glumly dragging your feet across the pavement. Gojo’s long arm draped over your shoulders as he lightly jostled you in an effort to catch your attention.

“Where are you going?” He cheerfully asked. You frowned.

“Home, obviously.” You told him before glancing further up ahead.

Geto gave a lazy wave. Shoko said nothing. You expected her to be a bit less receptive towards Gojo for putting his hands on you.

She had no reaction.

“So, you’re doing nothing, right?” Gojo asked. Glee radiated from his body. “We should go to the movies!”

“That sounds fun.” Geto agreed, before he gave you a pointed look. “As long as you didn’t have anything planned?”

You appreciated that he wanted to give you an out, but it was for nothing. You planned to spend the entire day with Takahashi. Your afternoon remained empty now that he unceremoniously ghosted you.

“That sounds fun,” You said, “but I’m not in the mood to–”

“I’m fine with anything as long as it isn’t that weird Earthworm movie Gojo kept talking about.” Shoko piped in as she stepped closer.

“But it looks so funny!” Gojo whined as he tugged you in the other direction. The other two followed right behind him. “You should give it a chance.”

Despite your reluctance, you were dragged off to the movies regardless. You couldn’t remember the film. The popcorn tasted buttery and salty in your mouth. Gojo kept disrupting you to talk shit about every character that popped onscreen. You weren’t allowed to go home until hours later, when the three made it their mission to walk you home. By that time, you’d forgotten about your botched date. You were far more interested in how the three had suddenly grown close.

It was as if they’d always been friends. Their conversations with each other felt natural, almost right. Even their bickering no longer held Shoko’s usual hostility. Perhaps you’d been wrong to try to force it. They just needed to find each other in their own way.

That day might not have ended the way you wanted it to, but you were still happy.

The very next day, Takahashi completely ignored you. He no longer smiled or greeted you. He seemed perfectly happy pretending you never existed in the first place.

If you were being honest, you did not mind in the slightest. Over time, you forgot about the guy who ditched you, and life continued on as always.

☕︎

Part of you expects the luxury.

When Suguru extended the invite, you knew he was never one to pull his punches. When he plans something, he goes all out. He adores dramatics and flair. This time was no exception.

The restaurant exuded extravagance the moment you stepped through crystal-clear glass doors. The warm air soothed the goosebumps gathering on your arms– a complete contrast to the chilly wind lingering just outside. The floors and ceilings were perfectly polished to the point where you could almost see your entire reflection. The spiral columns were perfect ivory, perfectly matching the black-and-white theme throughout the floor. Your heels clicked against the tiles as your hostess led you through the restaurant. The sounds of clinking utensils and glassware filtered through your ears.

They were already seated, three pairs of eyes clinging to your figure as you made their entrance. Satoru was more than happy to greet you first. His eyes simmer, but his smile barely falters as you get closer.

“What?” You ask.

Satoru wrinkles his nose.

“You smell like alpha.”

“It’s probably because I work with other alphas,” you say, “You know half of my clients are alphas, right?”

“Ignore him.” Suguru cuts in before Satoru continues to badger you. “He skipped his afternoon nap, so he’s a bit fussy this evening.”

You wave it off. Truthfully, you were used to alphas getting mad over another alpha’s scent. It’s happened to a couple of your omega clients, as well as to you. It’s instinct for alphas to flare up when they smell other alphas. Biological. They can’t help it. You actually expected Shoko to be more hostile because of it, yet as you glanced over, she barely even blinked. She must’ve gotten over her scent possession days from high school.

You adjust yourself in your seat as the waitress strolls over. Food and drinks are ordered. You listen to Satoru whine about work while the other two chastise him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t drink too much, but barely half an hour in, and you’re already tipsy. You know this was supposed to be a get-together, a high-school reunion of sorts. Work was absolutely not to be discussed, but you couldn’t help getting yourself worked up over it. They might’ve been your old high school friends, but they were also the most difficult clients you’ve ever had.

Shoko notices first.

“Just say it.” She eyes you.

“Say what?” You tilt your head.

“You’re mad, right?” Satoru pipes in, absolutely delighted when you frown in his direction. “It’s all over your face.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Oh, it’s that bad, hm?” Suguru hums, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m not mad.” You repeat, before wincing. “I’m…frustrated, I think. You guys are giving me a run for my money.”

After Hiro’s clear rejection, you paired a couple more omegas with the three of them. Each one ended in the same way. You would get a call from a disappointed omega telling you it didn’t really work out. Later that same day, three alphas would innocently seat themselves in your office–ready for another match.

You don’t even know what you’re even mad about. They’re allowed to make rejections; that’s their right. For whatever reason, it oddly felt like they were messing with you.

You could expect that type of behavior from Satoru, maybe even Suguru, but Shoko? You could never see her do something like that for the fun of it.

(Or maybe you were clinging to her high school demeanor–the sweet, quiet girl who used to trail behind you with soft brown eyes and a muted smile)

“At this point, I think you might be doing this on purpose.” Your lips curl up into a smile to indicate how silly you think that is. It’s clearly a joke. Low-hanging fruit, you guide them to so they can quell your worries.

None of them refute it. Eventually, Satoru starts rambling about yet another incident involving the students at his school. Suguru chimes in with his thoughts every now and then. Shoko just berates her packmates for being such nuisances. The topic is carefully avoided for the rest of the night.

With delicious and expensive food carefully stashed into your stomach, the four of you decide to call it a night. When you reveal you took the cab here, the three are quick to invite you into their own car. It doesn’t take you too long to give in.

When you step out into the cold, Shoko offers her jacket. She used to do that back in middle school; smother you with her clothes any time she could. She’d take your clothes too, sometimes. You used to find skirts and shirts missing every time she came over. She never stopped, not even when you scolded her for it over and over again. ‘An alpha thing,’ your parents once told you when you complained, ‘you need to be more considerate of her nature. She can’t help herself. It’s instinct.’.

When she does it now, you don’t think it has anything to do with her instincts. She grew out of it when high school came around. Today, Shoko wraps her jacket around you to protect you from the blistering cold as you follow them outside.

The car belongs to Satoru. You’ve never seen it before in your life, but you can instantly tell. It’s Satoru’s in the way that it’s bright red and sleek. He starts the car with a low rumble. You climb in the back, feeling your seat hum as the car purrs to life.

Suguru settles next to you while Shoko gets into the passenger seat. Your stomach flips when you start to buckle yourself in. You start to remember all the times Satoru nearly killed you with his driving skills back when he first got his license. He’d been so excited back then, constantly offering rides to your house, the arcade, and even to places where there was no need for a car. His need to show off was an ever-present part of his personality back then.

“Did he ever learn to drive properly?” You can’t help lean over and whisper in Suguru’s ear.

He laughs while Satoru puffs from somewhere in front of you.

“I heard that,” Satoru says, “My driving was never that bad. You’re so dramatic.”

It was much worse than bad, but you decided not to bully him about it. Surprisingly, Satoru drives a lot nicer than you expect. He maintains a mostly steady pace, not at all like the sharp halts and breaks his younger self seemed to like so much.

He catches your eye in the rearview mirror.

“See?” He tells you with a proud smile.

You roll your eyes, unamused.

“Honestly, I’d take highschool you’s driving over Utahime’s,” you say, watching the city nightlife as the car speeds up, “she insists on driving fifteen miles below the speed limit. It takes an hour to get anywhere.”

“Utahime?” Suguru echoes, and you remember he probably hadn’t seen her since high school.

“How is she?” Shoko asks.

“She’s doing well.” You respond.

You’re about to offer a reunion before you clamp the urge down. She wasn’t their friend, after all. If anything, she barely tolerated them. Anytime your juniors would crash your hangouts, Utahime’s face would instantly pinch up. For your sake, she remained mostly civil.

“Is she mated?” Shoko asks.

You eye her. It’s a weird question to ask, but you give in anyway, not really seeing the harm.

“No, not that I know of,” you admit, “she’s not a big fan of the matchmaker program, either.”

You’ve tried to convince her numerous times, but Utahime refused to budge. She’d get oddly offended anytime you even broached the topic, so you’ve decided to avoid it.

For a split second, you catch Shoko and Suguru looking at eachother with dark eyes. Secret conversations only alphas could have. You bet their scent was dipping in a way only they could sniff out. A part of you always wondered it was like, but you never wondered for long. It’s not like you’d ever get to experience it.

Were they thinking of Utahime as a potential mate? You didn’t want to burst their bubble, but you highly doubt she’d be happy about that.

“We keep talking about our love lives, but what about you?” Suguru suddenly asks.

You glance at him. “My love life?” You ask.

“Met anyone special lately?” Satoru prods from the front.

You shake your head, watching the scenery pass you by. You remembered them being curious about your dating life back in high school, constantly hounding you the moment you got close to another beta who wasn’t them. It was only natural. Alphas and omegas found lifetime partners in a very different way compared to betas. To you, the idea of talking and going on dates to get to know someone is natural. To alphas, it must sound like an alien concept.

“I’ve got my hands too full of you three to even bother meeting someone.” You tell them with a teasing lilt in your voice before it fades. “Besides, meeting another beta is a lot harder than meeting up with an omega. Everything’s less instinctual, I think.”

“Why would you only restrict yourself to betas?” Shoko asks.

The alcohol was getting to you. Your lips are a bit looser than usual. Your words are cruder. You roll your eyes.

“Who else is there? An omega?” Your voice dipped into a sardonic sneer like you couldn’t even stomach the thought. “An alpha?”

You laugh at the joke. They don’t join in. You don’t notice the darkened tension in the car as you continue to stare out the window, not minding the silence. The evening tired you out. You stifle a yawn, and your eyes drift closed.

Something sharp grazed your neck.

Your eyes snap open. The car has stopped. You glance over to Suguru.

He smiles. There’s a respectful distance between the two of you. He remains a seat apart.

“Did I startle you?” He genuinely asks. “Sorry, I was trying to wake you up.”

“Oh.” You say, calming down your racing heartbeat. “No, it’s okay. Are we here?”

You raise up, trying to peek at the window. Your apartment complex lies just a little way away.

“Home sweet home!” Satoru cheers, his glee having fully returned.

“We’ll walk you up,” Shoko suggests.

“No.” You fumble with your seatbelt. “You’ve done so much already. Thanks for the night. It was fun.”

“It was.” Suguru agrees. “We should do it again, sometime.”

You eye him again. He still hasn’t moved. You resist the urge to touch your neck.

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to make your voice sound so clipped. “That would be great.”

You step out into the cool night air, trying to ignore the three pairs of eyes that followed you across the sidewalk and up the stairs. As soon as you got out of their eyesight, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

Hours later, when you’ve showered and settled into bed, you finally decide to tell yourself there was nothing. You had been half-asleep. You probably dreamed it. You’ve known those three your entire lives; there was no way they could do something like that.

And yet, a part of you could feel it on your neck. You reach up to lightly press on the patch of skin. There was nothing, but a part of you had that feeling memorized. You don’t think you could ever forget that feeling.

Teeth rasping right over your scent gland.

☕︎

You never truly saw Shoko as an alpha until your last year of high school.

You never had the chance to. You’d grown up with her by your side. You saw her every day. You didn’t notice her slowly surpassing you in height. You didn’t notice the way her teeth grew sharper and sharper. To you, she remained as Shoko: your tiny little follower.

In your head, you always put her in a different category than Satoru and Suguru. They were your friends, but they were also alphas. Shoko was your friend. There was a difference, though you weren’t sure what the difference was.

The incident happened sometime toward the end of the school year. By then, the three had formed a true pack. All the bad blood they shared in their first year had completely scattered by the second. They matched eachother well, moving as one coordinated unit. When the four of you hung out, you felt like you were the odd one out. It made you wonder if this was how Shoko felt when you forced her to hang out with your friends, an alpha surrounded by betas.

You weren’t upset at her for finding a friend group she matched with, regardless of how little you fit in. She deserved that.

You appreciated that she tried to incorporate you into her circle, too.

“Are you ignoring us?” Suguru asked.

You gave him a look, already exasperated.

“What are you talking about?” You frowned. “You literally asked me to check your essay. That’s what I’m doing.” You gestured to the paper on your desk.

Technically, it wasn’t your desk. This wasn’t your classroom. The rest of the second year had already left for the day, preferring to spend their time at home or at clubs. These three remained the odd ones out, still lounging on their desks hours after the bell rang.

Since Shoko had this bad habit of refusing to let you walk home alone, you were often forced to sit with them, waiting around until they decided to leave.

You sat just behind Suguru and Shoko. Suguru’s elbows rested on the chair’s back as he watched you work. Shoko mirrored him. Satoru abruptly left a few minutes ago, most likely to get a snack from the vending machine to satisfy his sweet tooth. The only evidence of his presence was his sunglasses and his backpack, hung over his chair.

“I’m starting to think you just gave this to me so I won’t get bored.” You complained. “Your writing’s perfect as always. What am I even looking for?”

“I’m sure you’ll critique it well,” Suguru responded, as an amused smile spread across his lips. “I trust your judgment.”

You rolled your eyes but cast your gaze down on the paper, hoping to find something to nitpick. You knew that was an impossible feat. These three were at the top of their class for a reason.

“I give up.” You told him, handing his paper back. “It’s perfect. I see a 100 in your near future. Stop fishing for compliments.”

He laughed, but he accepted his essay back with fingers ever so gently brushing over yours.

“Besides, I’m not really good at grading.” You continued. “Utahime’s the literature expert.”

“I don’t think she’ll be too happy being asked for a favor like this.” Suguru countered as he tucked away his assignment. His nimble fingers ran across his backpack and tugged the zip shut.

You clicked your tongue. “That’s because you and Satoru are constantly picking on her.”

Your eyes slide to Shoko.

“She likes you at least.” You tell her with a teasing smile.

In that, you mean the two girls are civil to each other. By that time, you gave up on Utahime’s ability to cozy up to these guys. They’re a lost cause–the few omegas in your school already steer clear of them. It’s clear they aren’t looking for anyone to complete their pack.

“I don’t think it’s like that.” She refuted.

You opened your mouth to respond, but then their expressions shifted.

Their hackles raised. They sat up straighter. Alert. You’ve never seen them act like that before. Your smile faded, pulled away from your lips by their sudden behavior.

There’s a soft thump at the classroom entrance. Your eyes landed on Satoru’s body, leaning against the door. His breaths were ragged, shoulders hunched over.

You stood up, making your way towards him. Shoko called your name, but you didn’t stop. You hesitantly reached for your junior. Concern settled at the back of your throat. Was he sick or something? He seemed okay when he left just a few minutes ago.

“Satoru?” You called, watching his shoulders stiffen. “Is everything okay–”

You saw his eyes. There was a flash of blue and teeth before he lunged at you.

Suguru stepped in before he could make contact.

There was a clatter of desks as Suguru pushed his friend to the floor and restrained him. You stumbled back, nearly tripping over on your feet, before your back collided with Shoko. She held you securely in her arms as you watched the struggle.

You couldn’t even recognize your friend as he breathed heavily, still pinned underneath your other friend. His eyes hadn’t left yours. They were clouded, unfocused.

Satoru’s scent was often muted to your beta nose. Sometimes, when he got particularly worked up, you caught a whiff of something deep and almost fruity in the air.

Today, the clear scent of Satoru invaded your senses.

Rut, your brain supplied even when your body remained helpless to do anything but watch. Satoru had gone into rut.

“Should–” Your voice shook. You swallowed down your nerves. “Should we get a teacher–”

Shoko called your name again. This time, you listened.

Your eyes drifted up to meet her own. She stared straight at Satoru’s writhing body.

“You need to go. Now.”

You don’t recognize her tone. You’ve never heard such a voice come from her before. It was deep, almost guttural. Unapologetically alpha.

It was why you obeyed. Silently, you packed up your stuff, putting away your assignments and pens, shoving them into your bag. You avoided the scene of the two alphas calming down their packmate as you fled the classroom. You heard Satoru’s grunts through the hall. They followed you, rang through your ears the entire walk home.

The next day, Satoru wasn’t at school. When he returned the day after, the incident remained unspoken. The three refused to acknowledge it. You did the same, following in their footsteps. It was easier to pretend everything was fine. You wanted to forget the vision of Satoru staring up at you with clouded eyes. You wanted to forget Suguru’s strength as he restrained his friend. You wanted to forget what you heard in Shoko’s voice.

It was easier to pretend.

Around that time, you looked into colleges out of town.

☕︎

You think it’s time you cut Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko off.

Not personally. It’s the first time in a while that the four of you have seen each other since high school. Nostalgia for the good old days clouds your vision. You couldn’t do that to them or to yourself.

But clearly, your services were not working out for them. The many matches and omegas you have set up always ended in rejection. There wasn’t a single omega they liked, and they often had vague reasons for why. Getting a clear answer was like pulling teeth. Maybe they couldn’t be honest with you because of your past with them.

It was not fair to those three. Maybe you were wrong to offer your services. You should have recommended one of your fellow matchmakers instead. A part of you will always feel guilty for jumping the gun like that, far too excited to help your friends find love than being logical.

You’d cut them off professionally. As for personally, you would still keep in touch here and there. Just not as often. You were gradually declining their invitations to hang out. You texted them less and less. You wouldn’t cut them off, but you were slowly starting to remember why you drifted away from those three in the first place.

You agonized over your decision for days, wondering how to break it to them.

When they extend the offer for drinks at their place, you decide to bite the bullet.

One rainy evening, you step out of your car, blinking away the drizzle as you stare up at the mansion. It was large enough to pack ten families into the estate. You knew Satoru’s family was well off, but it always breaks your brain when you try to understand how well off. Satoru offhandedly mentioned he liked the property for how demure it was compared to his childhood home. The front door puts your entire apartment to shame.

You barely wait a second after you knock. The door pulls open, and Shoko invites you in with a smile on her face. You return her hug, feeling her soft cashmere sweater underneath your fingers. She’d been smoking recently. The scent of it was faint but still noticeable in the air. A part of you wonders if you can chastise her as you did back when you two were kids.

You thank her. Thunder rumbles in the distance as you step inside. The rain and wind picked up, swirling angrily outside and pelting the windows.

“How long do you think the rain will last?” You ask her as she leads you further inside.

There’s another boom of thunder and lightning. Shoko glances down at you thoughtfully.

“We’ll definitely be stuck in here for a while.” She tells you.

You nod along. Hopefully, the rain lets up by the time you go home.

Unfortunately for you, the rain poured throughout the evening. Mother Nature refused to let up for even a moment, going on and on.

Compared to the chill of the rain, the house provided bright lights and warmth. The storm raging outside was nothing compared to the three chattering about their daily lives. Throughout it all, you smiled and talked when necessary. You didn’t know if they noticed, but you were anxious, your entire body twinged with nerves. Despite the wine swirling in your cup, you refused to take a single drop. It’s best to have this conversation sober.

You wait until there’s a lull in the conversation. You take a deep breath.

“So, I was thinking about transferring you guys to another matchmaker,” you say. “But I want to hear your thoughts first.”

They don’t seem necessarily surprised by your declaration. Satoru adjusts himself on the couch. He props his chin on his hand as he studies you. His sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose. Pretty sapphire eyes stare unwaveringly at you.

“Transfer us?” He echoes. “I thought we were your favorite clients.”

You try to match his lazy grin, but it comes out stilted and wobbly.

“I think it’d be best for you all.” You avert your gaze, fiddling with the cup, almost grateful to have something to keep your fingers busy. It was an expensive-looking cup. When the wine glass caught the light at just the right angle, it sparkled. Translucent glass turned iridescent.

“It’s not fair for me to keep you guys on like this for months,” you continue. “Every omega I’ve matched with you three always ends in rejection. Maybe you’d have better luck with someone else?”

You huff out a laugh.

“At this point, I’m starting to think you don’t want to meet omegas.”

You don’t need to have heightened senses of an alpha to know that was the wrong thing to say.

Immediately, the evening's quiet atmosphere turned heavy and daunting. You felt it in your shoulders as something invisible almost pinned you to the sofa.

Satoru’s smile almost turns feral.

“You’re right.” Shoko says.

You can’t read her expression. Her lips are pulled into a thin line. You think you like the lipstick shade the wears tonight. It compliments her tone well.

You squint at her. A pit forms in your stomach.

“What?”

“We don’t want an omega.” Suguru finishes for her. “And after meeting so many, I’ve never been certain of anything more. We don’t want an omega, we want you. We always have.”

He keeps his tone softing, almost coaxing, like you’re some wild animal. Despite the gentleness of his voice, his words cut deep into your soul. You’re shaking your head before you realize what you were doing.

“I don’t understand.” You repeat his words over and over in your head as you lift yourself from your seat. “I–I don’t understand why–”

“C’mon, you couldn’t have been that oblivious, right?” Satoru slips into the spot next to you. A long arm rests across your shoulders, keeping you in place. “We made things so obvious in high-school. Pretty sure Shoko was pining ever since elementary.”

You wait for Shoko to refute the claim. She doesn’t. Even now, you’re thinking everything they’re telling you is some type of sick joke–something alphas tell to unsuspecting betas to laugh at.

“I’m a beta.” You state the obvious. “You are all alphas. You can’t–you shouldn’t want me–”

“I don’t care.” Shoko says as she stares at you with pretty eyes the color of warm honey. “I never have.”

Satoru hums in agreement. He leans into your side, nuzzling his face into your neck. When he’s close like this, the smell of his scent is stronger. He smells like a Buddhist temple tucked away in the highest mountain peaks, unreachable to all. The wind howls and whisks past ice and rock. The air is freezing and thin, almost suffocating.

You move when he gets uncomfortably close to your nape, right where your scent gland is.

You throw his arm off your shoulders, standing up straight. You keep your eyes on the ground, unwilling to look at any of them. You don’t think you’d be able to look at them for a long time.

“I don’t want to listen to any of this anymore.” You hear yourself speak.

“You three are drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” You step away from the living room. Your movements are robotic. Stiled. Your body is kept on autopilot as your brain tries to keep up with what just happened. You head for the door.

“Sleep it off. We can talk about this later.”

You never reach the exit.

A hand grabs your wrist, keeping you in place. You turn back to see Suguru’s empty expression. His purple eyes are dark. He gives a smile. It looks hollow. Fake. Plastic.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, “I just…I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

The words feel familiar. A conversation the two of you had a decade ago.

You open your mouth to ask when his lips swallow yours.

It’s utterly possessive in nature. Suguru’s scent envelopes you whole as he kisses you. He smells like what lurks underneath the roaring sea. You feel like you’re drowning, trapped in underwater caves where your ears pop from the immense pressure of the unwavering ocean.

Your hands press against his chest, urging him off. Even then, he only releases you when he’s had his fill. You stumble back, looking at his reddened lips and dark eyes. He’s breathing heavily, slightly hunched over like he’s ready to pounce. His eyes are wide and completely blown out.

You don’t think you’re looking at a person anymore.

You’re looking at a predator.

“Yeah.” It’s something between a growl and a laugh. “I don’t think I can wait any longer for this.”

Your words are cut off by a scream–your scream. There’s a harsh grip on your wrist before you’re being dragged back to the living room and haphazardly thrown onto the couch. Satoru’s hands keep you down as you struggle fruitlessly against his arms. He laughs somewhere above you as your vision twists and turns in mindless panic.

Satoru’s kiss is a lot more violent. He’s messy, smearing his scent all over your neck, your scent glands, eager to claim. His sharp teeth are more than happy to explore your lips. When he reluctantly pulls away in satisfaction, your lips are left in bloody tatters.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore, either.” Satoru agrees with his pack mate. “I’m surprised you were the one who broke first, Suguru. What happened to ‘waiting ‘till everyone’s ready’ and all that bullshit? So desperate.”

Fingers play with the edge of your shirt as Suguru scoffs. “Shut up.”

“Stop.” You’ve never heard your voice sound like this before. “Don’t–don’t–”

“Enough.”

The two freeze. So do you. Something blankets over your body.

Calming pheremones, the last piece of your brain supplies, but who would…?

Shoko’s face enters your vision. You blink helplessly at her.

Her expression is serene and calm as she studies your body. Her hand reaches out, gently caressing your face and tracing the length of your jawline. You feel the scrape of freshly manicured fingers.

On omegas, alpha pheremones help them become more receptive towards their alphan mates. It calms them, makes them feel closer to their chosen mate, and helps the process move along.

On betas, however, alpha pheremones cross wires. You weren’t built to be receptive. It clouds your vision, making your thoughts hazy. The panic remains even as your body slows down.

“Did they scare you?” She asks, voice gentle and dripping with faux innocence.

You can only manage a weak whine. She smiles and leans down to place a delicate kiss on your feverish temple.

“It’s my fault.” The worst part is how honest she sounds. “I should have told you back in high school. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have left, and maybe things would’ve been different…” Her voice trails off, and there’s this faraway look in her eyes.

“I meant what I said.” Her eyes focus on you again. “I don’t care that you’re a beta, but I don’t think we can treat you like a beta…not if we want you to understand that you belong with us.”

You look into her eyes, right underneath the bubbling warm honey. You think you see it then. Something rotten that festered there for at least a decade before it climbed its way to the surface. For a moment, you wonder how you hadn’t seen this in high school. You wonder how she tricked you, coerced you into becoming her friend despite the dark depths she held so closely to her heart.

And then, you understand she hadn’t hidden this from you at all.

Until now, you hadn’t seen her as alpha.

“I love you,” Shoko tells you earnestly, brushing away the tears cascading down your face. Then her voice hardens, and she isn’t talking to you anymore.

“I make the first bite.”

Satoru and Suguru don’t argue. Why would they? To alphas, the pack leader’s word is law.

Her kiss is gentle. She’s slow and careful as she carefully glides her lips and tongue against your own. She’s careful of her teeth, savoring your shuddering mouth as she swallows your cries and pleas.

You hate how familiar her scent is. Shoko is the Earth that the mountain rests on, where the oceans rock. She was everything you’ve ever known, and yet there was so much left to uncover. You just didn’t think you could do that before losing yourself.

Someone tugs down at your pants. Your eyes widen, and your panic builds up all over again. Shoko hushes you. Her lips trail to the edge of your jaw.

“He just wants to taste. Don’t mind him.” She tells you as Satoru tugs your pants down your sluggish legs. His fingers itch with eagerness as he squeezes the plush of your thighs.

“Don’t worry.” Shoko continues as Satoru practically rips your panties apart. “We won’t knot you tonight. We know you aren’t ready for that.”

“Fuck.” Satoru groans as he spreads your legs. He leans down to nuzzle your pussy, nose bumping at your clit. “You smell even stronger down here. ‘Can never get enough of your scent, I just wanna drown in it.”

“Who’s the desperate one, now?” Suguru goads as his own fingers explore what’s underneath your shirt. He grabs a fistful of your chest before squeezing. Your back arches up from his movement. He smiles.

Satoru ignores him and buries his face completely into your pussy. His tongue flicks out, eagerly lapping up at your hole. His movements are oddly stilted, almost unsure, mostly driven by instinct rather than anything else. Of course, he wouldn’t have any real sexual experience. Unlike betas, alphas and omegas mate for life.

His eagerness largely makes up for his lack of technique. Within moments, your body responds to him, urged on by his touches even though your mind is clinging on to the last semblance of sanity you have left.

“I love it.” His voice is almost a sob, strangely broken and muffled as his tongue drives deeper into your hole, hoping to drink up the essence of you. “I love this. I love you. I love you so much. I’m so glad we have you again.” His hands reach up to keep your trembling thighs away from his face, opening up more of yourself to his eager mouth.

“Satoru.” You hated how heedy your voice sounded. Your core clenched at the intrusion of him tongue-fucking your sensitive pussy, muscles contracting like they wanted nothing more but to keep him inside and milk him for all he’s worth. Your eyes squeezed shut as he pulled out to nibble on your clit.

“Please–please don’t–I don’t think I can–”

“I know, baby.” He coos from somewhere underneath you. “It hurts, right? I can make it all better, I promise. Just let go, baby. You can do it, I know you can.”

Encouraged by Suguru playing with your tits and the constant pressure of Satoru right at your cunt, you can’t put it off any longer. Shoko licks a stripe across your neck, and you’re gushing all over Satoru’s face as your pussy cums over and over again. Fingers dig into your ass cheeks, keeping your hips from lifting up as Satoru wrings out every last drop you have. He doesn’t stop until you collapse, exhausted underneath the staggering weight of your orgasm.

With bleary eyes, you watch as he rises from your throbbing pussy. His lips are still shiny. He never breaks his gaze from you as he licks his lips, savoring each drop.

Suguru takes his place between your trembling thighs. There’s a hiss of a zipper. Your eyes get impossibly wider as his cock pops out from underneath his briefs. It’s already an angry, bright red.

You don’t fight this time, not when Shoko’s pheremones are already starting to drown you again. You watch as Suguru’s cock aligns itself to your battered pussy. The tip taps on your swollen clit as he rocks himself through your plush lips, once, twice, thrice, until his cock finds your hole.

You hate the way his eyes glaze over. He looks down at you with complete adoration.

“I love you.” He tells you. “I can’t wait until you love us, too.”

Shoko’s teeth find your neck at the same time he bottoms out. The pain of the claiming bite somehow overrides the fullness you feel as Suguru ruts into you over and over again, completely giving into instinct.

Honestly, Fives is such a tragic character.

He always tries his best to not be considered a statistic.

He knows he's a clone, but he considers he and his brothers to be men like anyone else.

He does not like to be expendable... and learning the truth about the inhibitor chips in clone heads doesn't help with his psyche.

One of the reasons I'm altering the plot a bit is because Fives actually does get his chip removed.

Just in canon he's killed shortly afterwards.

I feel like his obsession would start with him assigned to you for a few missions.

Clones are often sent with Jedi, after all.

While he's used to working with Anakin and Ahsoka, maybe there's a few times you're the Jedi he's assigned to work with and listen to.

His obsession is probably slow acting as he's trying to stay professional.

He's just meant to be a unit on the battlefield, one meant to help you against Droids since there's so many of them.

That's all your bond was supposed to be.

After all, anything further than comrades in arms would go against the rules.

As a Jedi you're not meant to have personal relationships.

As a Clone, he's just meant to fight.

He accepts such an idea at first.

There isn't meant to be anything more.

However... Fives finds himself growing more fond of working with you.

Maybe you two are assigned on a dangerous mission together.

It's life or death yet... you care for him as if he wasn't canon fodder.

You tell him he's capable, that you need fighters like him.

You respect him... which, coming from a Jedi, means quite a bit from him.

He trusts you... and that trust becomes respect...

Before long he's having thoughts of what you two could do together.

He knows he shouldn't, it's wrong and could hinder missions if he thinks too hard about it.

But... he's always been one to question orders, right?

He doesn't always follow them blindly.

Yet yours...? He trusts you know what you're doing...

You always seem to prioritize his safety in missions... even when knowing he's supposed to be expendable.

Fives definitely likes a Jedi who tries to keep clones alive and respects them.

He sees you try to be strategic, to get the job done with less casualties.

It's respectable.

Fives probably interprets his obsession as just... respect.

He respects you... that must be it... anything else could be an issue...

Yet it's hard not to look into it?

Due to the fact that this is a Jedi x Clone pairing, I feel like the start of Fives' obsession would be parasocial in nature.

Parasocial Relationships can be platonic or romantic in nature.

In this situation, it's Fives' delusions taking over, making him feel like you're closer than you actually are.

He watches your every move, looks into every mission you're sent on in advance....

He follows you around on missions, he imagines what it would be like to be closer with you....

He never voices such feelings, even more so to his brothers.

It would be embarrassing to explain his fixation on this one Jedi....

Even more so if you just see him as a skilled comrade....

Maybe you do see him as a friend of sorts... but probably not to the degree of him.

Fives is just about as loyal to you as he is to his fellow clones.

Although, he probably gets concerned when you're focused on not questioning your superiors....

You're strong, with The Force... stronger than him unless you were taken by surprise...

Which is why Fives no doubt has protective instincts due to his purpose.

He's meant to back you up... to watch your back and make sure you're safe...

When it comes to you? He takes such a thing very seriously.

I feel like he's a rather tame protective yandere before the whole conspiracy arc.

You two talk often on missions and he listens to your every word regardless on if you feel the same about him or not.

It's such a silly thing to him... to be so attentive towards you... He doesn't do this with Anakin so...

Ugh... Each time he tries to rationalize it, to tell himself it isn't him falling for you, his head hurts....

I feel like things would only get bad once he realizes what his main purpose was to be at some point...

With just one order... just one chip at birth... he could be forced to kill any Jedi he was working with.

Including you.

At some point he was going to be forced to kill you on a mission together... and that may be one of the many realizations that break him, honestly.

Fives finds out about the chips through the whole thing Tup issue.

Tup dies and Fives finds a supposed "tumor" in his brain, then he learns about the chips, and is betrayed by Palpatine....

I can see his yandere behavior occurring when he escapes into Coruscant.

You're no doubt one of the people he wants to tell first.

After all, you never seemed to leave his mind... plus he's removed the chip by this point.

Now he can't turn on you... and out of all of the clones, as much as he loves his brothers...

He's the safest person to look after you in his eyes.

Imagine getting the mission to locate a rogue runaway clone that supposedly tried to assassinate the chancellor.

You recognize this to be Fives... so you go after him.

Imagine being lured down into the bowels of Coruscant to look for Fives.

Fives no doubt knows about this... and realizes he can use this to his advantage.

Imagine Fives luring you with his voice, similar to how he did Anakin in canon... then uses a ray shield to trap you.

You're baffled and on edge when Fives reveals himself, a strange look in his eyes.

Then... while you're still trying to question him, he spills everything.

He tells you about his findings, about the chips... about the plot to kill Jedi... how he managed to remove his...

Then before you're able to fully take in what he said, he goes off on how he can protect you now.

Something needs to be done about this, but first he wants to make sure you're completely safe.

What better way to do that then make you "go missing"?

You want to agree with him... to accept what he says about these chips... but you realize what he's suggesting...

He's going to kidnap you.

To protect you... he deems it necessary to remove you from the picture... even if you fight him.

He tells you he cares for you. more than any other.

He doesn't have to feel ashamed by it now, not when your superiors are corrupted.

He wants you to hide the fact you're a Jedi, to ignore the stupid order that you can't love anyone.

He loves you, always has since he started to work with you and you cared about him....

You try to talk him down, to say that he doesn't need to cage you.

Yet he tells you he's worried you'll run, that you don't trust him.

It doesn't matter if you truly trust him or not for him... He is going to assume you don't.

That's the safest option for him.

You may not agree about his methods now... but Fives knows the true danger now.

You need him... the only clone who is not longer hardwired to kill you.

You can't trust anyone else.

By this point, Fives is probably tempted to kill anyone who gets in his way.

He's disoriented, delusional, and has trouble trusting anyone but you.

Anyone foolish enough to question him or try to stop him from hiding you away to keep you safe... will be promptly shot.

To him, this is like repaying a favor.

He's taking care of you just like you always tried to do with him on the battlefield.

Those he kills must be with the higher ups... even if they're seemingly innocent.

Even if you agree with him, if you trust him on the idea of Order 66...

Fives is still delusional... even killing innocents while justifying it to you that they're "out to get you."

Imagine Fives dragging you to abandoned places or secret bunkers just to hide you.

It only gets worse IF he lives through Order 66....

He convinces you more and more to give in to him.

He tries to tell you it's okay to trust him, to love him, to care about him.

He's protecting you, right?

You have no choice but to trust him... After all, he's really all you got... Especially when Order 66 proves true....

“Look,” His hand came out from behind his back, a long, wide blade revealed. “Don’t have much time, but this,” he lifted it into to eyeline, twirling it by its hilt in his grip, the overhead lights glinting off of it. “is a vibroblade.” He met your gaze, brow raised, proud of himself for acquiring it.

“It’s for me?” you asked, setting your tablet aside to stand, approaching him. He hummed in confirmation. For safety, he downturned the blade, handing it to you by the hilt. It was a fine sword, but you were confused, knitting your eyebrows together as you tested the weight of it in your hand. You glanced between him and the weapon questioningly. “Thanks, but I don’t usually… use stuff like this. Knives are more my speed this feels very…” you raised the sword, in a way you thought a pirate would, “‘swashbuckle-y.’” You dropped your arm. Anakin scoffed.

“You’ve been here a while, and we’ve run into plenty of siths by now. Figured it was high time to get you something to defend yourself with in close quarters.” He pointed a finger onto the weapon as he explained, “Watch,” His large hand came to fix atop yours on the hilt, and you inhaled. Your reaction went unnoticed as he brought his saber over, igniting it. The blades of both met each other, and you witnessed how the lightsaber didn’t cut through the vibroblade. “If things get hairy, and there’s no escape, you’ve got a backup plan.” They were hard to come across, Anakin was lucky to have this one, and he was relieved to be able to give it to you, smiling down at you expectantly for your answer.

You broke out of your impressed stupor. It was a thoughtful gift. The fact that you were untrained with a sword of this size stopped you from expressing your full gratitude. That, and the warmth of his hand was still on yours.

This fitness center was made out of a repurposed hangar so it was cavernous, with expansive floor space. It had the usual: weights, punching bags, a closed off shooting range, etc. There was a lot of unused area, and spare supplies would often be dropped off. A ways away, a few clones had escorted boxes of dry rations on a hoverboard, unloading it here until it was time to relocate it if there was room in the mess hall kitchen. Ko, a clone officer, sat a box down, before taking notice of a familiar head of hair across the room. “Hey, men,” he said through a grin, “is that General Skywalker over there with (y/n)?” His comment caught the attentions of his fellow soldiers, halting what they were doing to spy.

“Ha! Skywalker,” Dice laughed, assumptions forming as to what their General was up to, “You don’t think he’s trying to butter her up, do you?”

“C’mon, guys,” Stringbean huffed, “I wanna get this over with.”

“Look, ‘Bean, they’re basically holding hands.” Copper pointed out, leaning against the cargo behind him and lulling his head in Stringbean’s direction. “Who’s gonna win the bet if we don’t pay attention?”

“Maybe making a bet about whether or not General Skywalker— a Jedi— is trying to get close to (y/n)—“

“Ah, ah, ah!” Dice wagged his finger at Stringbean, correcting him, “Whether or not they fuck, ‘Bean.”

“Well, how are we supposed to tell?”

“By watching.” Ko hissed, warning them to hush up and pay attention to the pair over on the sparring mat.

You bit your lip, meeting Anakin’s gaze who was unfaltering in his eye and physical contact. “I don’t know how to use a sword.” you admitted, your tone coming out meaner than you meant to, saying it like it should be obvious to him.

Anakin didn’t seem to notice it, “Here,” instead rounding your body to stand behind you. “I’ll show you.” Directing both of your hands onto the hilt, replacing both of his hands atop yours. He was such a wide shouldered man. That, and by doing this he curled and enveloped you almost completely. You swallowed thickly, letting him move you. There was no way that you didn’t note how strong he felt, how tall and toned with thick muscle he was. His rigid chest against your back, his flexed arms pressing into yours, his chin hovering over your shoulder, cheek against your hair— you felt dizzy with excitement. No doubt you’d ask for his help in relief later when it was time for ‘lights out’. You had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

He changed your positioning effortlessly, angling the blade to the imaginary opponent, “You’ll block like this. Center yourself,” Impossible to center yourself without thinking about shoving his cock into your center over and over— “When you attack, you’ll come down like this,” He raised your arms, bringing the sword down slowly, with purpose. When he stepped forward, his hips pressed into yours, and you stepped forward, not before feeling something familiar and half hard poking into you. A tingle traveled down your spine and you smirked. “If you can afford leaving yourself open, you can thrust,” Another step forward, and he shoved the blade into the air in front of them. You hadn’t been listening at all— mind occupied with General Skywalker’s perfect body pressed up against yours, fitting together like puzzle pieces— but you perked up when he mentioned thrusting. You can very much afford to leave yourself open right now, if only he had the time to properly reintroduce himself to the space between your legs. Overwhelmed, a deep blush bloomed onto your cheeks and ears.

A mischievous smile stretched out onto Copper’s lips, “Mates, is it just me or she turning red with ol’ Skywalker over there?”

Stringbean, forgetting his past protests at the notion he could be losing the bet, leaned forward, “No way,”

Dice rubbed his chin with his hand, “That she is, Copp, this is too good.”

“I’ve never seen her blush before,” Copper muttered, unable to deduce if it meant the General was making you uncomfortable, or you were attracted. You weren't pulling away at all.

“Oh, to be in his position,” Ko chuckled, the General had to be enjoying himself. Any of them would if they switched places.

You cocked your head to look at Anakin, who’s gaze lingered on yours. He stepped away, his warmth leaving you when he detached, clearing his throat. “I’ll be sure to give you more formal lessons on it another time.” You hoped he would, turning to face him with a hand on your hip. “Obi Wan and I have already agreed to switch off sparring you. You should get experience with different fighting styles.” Beginning to walk backwards off the mat, “It won’t be easy! We’re gonna fight dirty, like a sith would. Okay? I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you around,” he said, pointing to you, voice growing in volume as he furthered from you.

You nodded at him with a knowing grin, shaking your head from his ramble. “Bye, bye, Skywalker,” You gave him a flirty wave as he dismissed himself. He faced forward, and the spying clones pretended to be busy.

“Officers,” Anakin nodded at them in acknowledgment as he walked past, “I’ll see you guys later for deployment?”

Ko nodded back, saluting, “‘Course, General.”

Dice managed to slow Anakin’s stride, unloading the last bit of cargo and leaning his hand on it, “Oi, Skywalker, I saw you getting all up close and personal with (y/n) over there. Seemed cozy.” It was his special interest in poking at things his fellow soldiers thought it best to leave alone. Especially because they didn’t want their commanding officer to know they’d been spying on him.

Anakin didn’t think anything of it, expecting observation in a public area, especially when (y/n) was involved. “Just showing her some moves, that’s all.” he answered innocently, moving on to get ready for his next mission.

The men’s heads followed him as he scampered off. This was all too fishy. Copper hummed lowly, “Oh, he showed her a couple of moves, alright.” Stringbean hit his shoulder with the back of his hand playfully.

“We don’t know that yet.”

Ko scoffed, “He’s trying to move in on her.” He was certain.

None of them knew he had already moved in on you, countless times.

Their deployment was within the hour. Tasked with bringing aid to a neutral planet in order to secure their alliance with the Republic. The troops expected a resistance from the opposers, which didn’t bode well for their moods. There always was a hill to climb in order to reach victory, it was the hill that proved fatal for some. The clone troops were prepared to lay down their life for their cause, but they preferred not to focus on the possible tragedy awaiting them. Instead, they sought distractions. Distractions that made them feel normal, like there wasn’t a war occurring, that they weren’t waddling in the trenches of it.

This squad (who affectionately referred to themselves as the “Groundhog” squadron) swapped stories, knowing this would be a long ride in a shuttle, having entered the atmosphere of the planet. Their helmets in their hands or underneath their arms, seemingly reminding everyone how human they were. The conversation served its purpose, taking the men’s weight off. Anakin leaned onto the wall of the shuttle, eyes closed as he attempted a crude form of meditation. Jokes were cracked when they got onto the subject of what they’d do after the war, but nobody pointed out it was wishful thinking. Having a lover, or a wife, was a common fantasy amongst the group.

Stringbean hopped up to sit on some armory cargo, resting his blaster on safety beside him. “Maker to think…” he voices his thought aloud, picking up his leg so he can rest his elbow on his knee, shaking his head with a soft smile. “Having a plot of land to myself. A family. That’d be the life.”

Copper piped up, “I don’t even care about the family part, ‘Bean, sign me up for a wife.” It made the other clones chuckle with him.

“Ah, a wife…” Ko sighed in content from the idea, fixing his back against the cargo and resting his head back. “… beautiful woman, got a good head on her shoulders, capable, resilient. Sharing a home with her would be the dream.” Imagining it, his fantasized wife, and (y/n)’s face surfaced in his mind. It didn’t necessarily surprise him. Visualizing you offer him a meat pie you prepared for him was doing something to him.

Dice snickered, “It’s been a while since you troops’ve been laid.” Anakin smirked to himself. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping but he couldn’t help it when he felt so proud to have gotten some this morning. The officers didn’t take notice, continuing their conversation. Dice copied Stringbean, jumping up onto a box to sit, but crossed his arms. “Hell,” he scoffed, “it’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid,”

“Well there’s slim pickin’s in our line of work, Dice, don’t go feelin’ sorry for yourself.” Copper patted him firmly on the shoulder, and Dice nodded knowingly, elbowing him back.

“Let’s see,” Ko started counting on his fingers, “there’s a bunch of Jedi,”

“Bunch’a prudes, more like. No offense, General,” Dice chimed in. Anakin waved his hand dismissively, downturning his lips, knowing he was probably the only one in this battalion getting any tail.

“None taken,” The Jedi insisted, without breaking his meditation.

“But it’s not like we’re not a ‘bunch’a prudes’ ourselves,” Stringbean interjected, outstretching his hands in a defensive gesture, and it earns him a laugh from the squad.

“I hear that.”

Anakin shook his head with a smile, unable to steel himself from listening in.

“Alright, so we’ve got the prudish Jedi, our fellow Clone brothers, and…” A smirk stretched out onto Copper’s lips as he finished the sentence Stringbean started, “(y/n),”

A chorus sounded of groans, chuckles, sighs, filthy comments amongst the troop… You were a popular subject revisited yet again by the squadron. Anakin peeked open an eye, observing his soldiers’ reactions to his informant-turned-commander, who begs for his cock almost every night.

“Don’t get me started on (y/n),”

“The things I’d let her do to me,”

“Oh, the things I’d do to her if she’d let me,” A clone responded with a dark snicker.

“It’s like she doesn’t even know she drives me crazy.”

“Oi, you’re not the only one, mate.”

Anakin closed his eye before someone caught him spying. It was best to stay as far removed as possible.

“Stringbean, go back to that farm fantasy of yours.” The men wanted to hear it again, and Stringbean added a revision.

“Like I said, just a plot of land to myself.” ‘Bean gazed at the ceiling, visualizing his regaled tale in his mind’s eye. “(y/n) as my spoil of war,” These touch starved army men exhaling at the wording made Anakin scoff silently through his nose. War deranged men, showed their true, darker selves, and the Jedi witnessed it firsthand. Experienced it himself. The urge to step in rose in Anakin’s chest, but he denied it. He wanted to hear what these depraved creatures really thought of his lover. As if imagining it themselves, the boys followed Stringbean’s example and looked to the ceiling. “We’ve got two kids: a boy and a girl. (y/n) and I share yard work, and at the end of the day, cook dinner together—“

“Oi, get to the good part!” Dice jeered, and some men snickered.

“Okay, okay,” Stringbean grinned sheepishly, motioning with his hands to settle down. It seemed his fantasy was seeping into Anakin as well. “After dinner— kids asleep— we start cleaning up. She’s doing dishes, I’m clearing the table. I get a look of her in that apron,” Some guys suck in a breath. Anakin cocked his head, furrowed his brows, and exhaled through his pursed lips at the image of you in a little apron and nothing else. “Can’t help myself. Come up behind her, start fondling her. Then I nail her on the kitchen table.”

“Stringbean, you dog!” A clone shouted, and the troopers began weakly beating on him, tossing their helmets at ‘Bean while he grinned and flinched, knowing he deserved it. Being the first one to spell out a dirty fantasy meant facing certain scrutiny.

Once they had settled down, Copper wanted to share, outstretching his arms to gesture the men to quiet. “Alright, alright, that reminds me, lads.” he introduced, dropping his arms once he’d gotten everyone’s attention. “There was one day I got ahead of myself in training, (y/n) was there. Picked me up, dusted me off, brought me down to the medical bay. That night?” He raised a brow, cupping his chin in his hand, “I had the filthiest dream about her.” Being watched with bated breaths, he wasn’t sure if he should even tell this story.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense.” A clone told him incredulously, but it was all in good fun.

Copper went on, “I dreamt she snuck into my room, told me she couldn’t stay away from me. She couldn’t keep her hands to herself, kept palming me through my pants.”

Anakin recalled an exact moment when you told him the same thing, did the same thing to him when he was recovering in the medical bay. He knit his eyebrows together, biting his lip to keep from saying anything.

“Got excited. She took care of me, sucked on me a bit, mounted and rode me ‘til I had nothing left. Fat tits bouncing. I’m surprised I contained myself while I was sleepin’.” Copper finished, leaning his elbow against the cargo.

Dice dissolved into laughter, pointing to Copper and looking amongst the group, “Mate says he’s surprised he didn’t jizz himself like a teenager,” The group followed Dice’s suit, laughing, including Copper.

Anakin felt himself perspire because he was stuck on the imagery of your “fat tits bouncing”. He swallowed thickly.

“Oi, the body on that broad, eh?” Dice reminisced, “Went to the fitness center and she was there. Had on a little bra, barely strapped in that chest of hers,” He cupped the air around his chest comically, he bounced his hands, causing a few snickers. “She didn’t notice me practically drooling like a hound. She’s glistening with sweat. Hair sticking to her forehead and neck. She’s jumping rope and I can’t tear my eyes away… the tightest yoga pants I’ve ever seen, if she bent over bet I could see her pretty little hole. The woman’s gotta know what she’s doing to us,”

Anakin, like the rest of these sleazy soldiers, was visualizing the whole damn thing. Except he knows he tore apart those yoga pants as soon as he saw you bent over in front of him. Of course you were pissed at him for it, but knowing now all these filthy perverts were waiting for the day you’d wear ‘em? He was glad he did it. Put them to one last good use getting you nice and wet for his cock. To hide his guilt, he rested his hand over his face.

“Hourglass figure, wit as sharp as a tack, looks that could kill, I wish she’d get over that crush she’s got already and get with a real man.” A clone added and an intrigued smile broke out onto Anakin’s lips, concealed by his hand.

“A crush? No way,”

“Say it ain’t so,”

“It’s obvious! A woman like that hasn’t hopped on anyone’s dick since she got here— and we’re all strapping young men— I’m tellin’ ya, girl’s hung up.”

“I could make her forget him. Gimme one night with her, she’ll forget he even existed.”

Anakin scoffed. That was highly doubtful.

“What about you, Ko? What do you think of (y/n)?”

“What’s to say that hasn’t already been said?” Ko shrugged, but the encouragement from his squad changed his mind. “I just wanna stick my dick in that cleavage. C’mon, you all have seen it. She displays it like she wants attention,” he spoke defensively, as if he had a case to defend, “Wonder if she likes being called a slut.”

You do. Anakin thought about you with a smile.

“Wonder if she is a slut.” Dice leaned back against the cargo with a wolfish grin.

You are. Anakin thought about you in response once more, smile widening.

Anakin wrestled with himself. On one hand, he could join the conversation, bond with these disgusting depraved men and their dark fantasies, or stay indifferent and detached. He knew that war changed people, and this was an outlet. They weren’t interested in taking advantage of someone when they were bred to be docile and trained to protect the innocent. You were particularly extroverted, and a bit of a tease— he had learned that first hand. Your flirtatious speech was smooth and confident, and you moved in an aesthetically poised manner, Anakin found you beautiful no matter what you did. Unashamed to admit he’s gotten stiff watching you fight alongside him on the battlefield. No wonder your image fell victim to this merry band of neglected soldiers. Attractive and available, so you had become a relatable object of fantasy. A prize to focus on to get through tough times, to get through the possibility of dying tomorrow. Never in a million years would he justify it, but he could understand it. Especially because he could hear his praise of you through the voices of these men. He could sense their intent. None of them would cause you physical harm. Briefly, he pondered if you sired these feelings in them on purpose, knowing the gross comments they made with each other when they were alone. An image of you getting off to it flashed in Anakin’s mind. It wasn’t far off from your personality to pleasure yourself to the idea of power.

“Oi, awfully quiet back there, eh, Skywalker?” Dice called, and Anakin looked at him. “We didn’t scare you or nothin’, did we?” On the contrary.

“No, just listening.” The Jedi replied nonchalantly, crossing his arms and legs as he settled against the hull wall.

Dice wanted to ask if Jedi had dirty thoughts too, but he didn’t want to shatter the illusion that Anakin was one of them— human— if he answered no. Sometimes they liked to pretend Anakin was not a peacekeeper, did not adhere to an oath, in a way Anakin liked to pretend that too.

“You ever get off to the thought of (y/n), General Skywalker?” Stringbean blurted out, breaking the silence. Immediately, the platoon scolded him playfully.

Anakin pinched his chin, “(y/n), you say?” Yes, he had. Yes, indeed, he had. More than he cared to admit. More than he thought a Jedi ever should. “Oh! You mean Commander (l/n),” He pushed off the wall, leisurely striding to the center of the group. His inflated ego had gotten to him, having completely overshadowed his more jealous traits ages ago. His tone and correction of your title made his squad nervous, and they watched with bated breath. They questioned if he was cross with them.

“I wouldn’t say,” Anakin started, a mischievous glint in his eye. He folded his arms behind his back, pacing as he noticed their worried looks. Maker, he wished he could tell them, witness their reactions when he tells them he’s been banging the “broad” they fantasize their filthy little minds about when they’re alone. His head was so big it was a mystery how it fit into the hull of this ship.

“We know you’ve got a little soft spot for her, sir, it’s obvious.” Copper ached to break the tension, and he desperately moved it into the direction necessary for him to win the bet. “We’ve all got one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” The clones averted their gazes from the Jedi once he spoke, shuffling nervously in place. “but Maker, if I were simply a man, I’d do whatever it took to make her mine.”

Grins broke out on their faces at the fact Anakin played a trick on them, and some cheered their agreement with his case.

“Isn’t she other-worldly?”

“Extremely.” Anakin replied.

“She makes it so hard—“

“Maker, don’t I know it…” Anakin mused, reminiscing how hard you make his cock rather than what the clone was referring to.

“Has she ever hit on you, sir?”

“Oh, all the time. She’s shameless.” And Anakin meant shameless. Downright blasphemous, the words that would come out of that pretty mouth of yours.

“Easy?” One clone asked with hope.

Anakin gave him a look. “It wouldn’t be a problem for me either way.” he responded smugly, acting out the role of the indifferent Jedi who’s confident he could get you if he really wanted to.

His battalion went wild over the fact their leader is in on their little crush. Like they brought him down to their hellish level, innocent from the knowledge Anakin has put the body they covet the most in every position and every location. Painted you with his cum countless times. Has witnessed your pleading gaze and expression twisted in pleasure when he hit that perfect spot inside of you.

General Skywalker rode on that ego high, “Gentlemen, nothing quite like comin’ home from a battle, and (y/n) greeting you with open arms, open legs, and an open mouth.” He stood in the middle while his clones cheered thinking about that imagery, thinking their general is merely joining the conversation, and making it all up.

To keep the charade going, to find out more about how Anakin really felt about you, Ko yelled out, “Skywalker!” Anakin hummed in response. “Fuck, marry, kill: (y/n), Master Luminara, and that cute Pantoran Senator Chuchi,”

At the mention, the other clones joined into the game, muttering their answers in a big jumble. Anakin waited his turn to speak, “C’mon,”

“Don’t be like that, it’s just a game.” Ko assured, moving to sit at the edge of the cargo.

“Alright, alright. Let me think. Okay, one’s easy: Marry (y/n). Make her my little trophy wife.”

Like a pack of hyenas, they chittered with laughter.

“Sir? You wouldn’t wanna just ’fuck’?” The question was asked to serve a purpose, to nail in the bet.

“Why would I want to fuck once, when we’re hitched I get to fuck always?” Anakin answered. Once the hollering died down, he added. “Doesn’t matter the time of day. She shouldn’t be walking around with an ass like that if she didn’t want it split open twenty-four-seven.”