#syxxwrites...

Walking back into the estate that lingers with the scent of you now, he makes his way back to his bedroom.

Pausing at the bed, now crowned with a nest made by you, his eyes ghost over the evidence of his and your arousal.

Satoru glances at the clock, then back to the nest.

Work can wait.

He climbs into the bed, careful not to knock over your handiwork, positioning his head right next to a large damp patch of your slick. Eyes fluttering, he noses at the wet area, letting the concentrated scent of sweet cream and matcha fill his olfactory.

A guttural groan spills from his lips, pink tongue darting out to taste the remnants of your essence. His cock throbs in the gray sweats, tenting the garments.

Reaching down with one hand, Satoru palms himself through the pants, pressing his face further into your slick. He can feel his canines popping, nipping at the fabric like it’ll get him closer to you.

The hand that was busy teasing himself through his sweats slides up before dipping beneath his waistband, fingers spreading the pre that had been pearling at the tip around the head of his cock before working down the rest of the length.

Wet shlicks and grunts echo around the bedroom as Satoru loses himself to the scent of you again. Images of you above him, hands wrapped around his throat as you ride him into oblivion flash through his mind, bringing him stumbling to the edge.

The sheets are all the way in his mouth now, mouth aggressively sucking the essence out of the fabric like it’s indebted to him. His hips stutter, precum spilling like a waterfall now, but it's not enough. It’s not you.

Whining helplessly, he grabs blindly at his pockets, feeling for his phone. Unlocking it, he calls you, putting the phone on speaker next to him.

On the second ring, you pick up. “Satoru? Baby, what's wrong?” Your voice comes through, and he almost cries.

“So- hng-! so close- ah!” Satoru cries out through the fabric in his mouth.

Your ebony cheeks burn, and you glance up at Ijichi to see if he heard Satoru’s pleas. Thankfully, it doesn't seem so.

“Pretty boy can’t handle being by himself?” You listen for the telltale way his breath hitches, creamy baritone rising to a whiny mess.

“You know what to do, Satoru. Imagine it's me, both hands…” You trail off, hearing him grunt and keen.

Satoru’s eyes squeeze closed, listening reverently to your words like a preacher giving a sermon—like the vowels dancing on your tongue are the only thing that can absolve him of his sins.

Satoru’s cerulean eyes pulse and glow with a feral intensity, teeth ripping the egyptian cotton as his cock spurts into the sweats. His body shines with sweat, sticky in places that he didn’t know could be.

“Feel good?” Your voice breaks through the miasma clouding him.

“Better than good,” He croaks, shedding the soiled sweats in the nest before bringing the phone with him to the bathroom. “I’ve got to be in the office today, but dinner on me tonight? There's a sushi spot I want to show you…”

Your heart melts as you hear how his voice softens at the idea of sharing dinner with you again. “Of course, my moon. Just send me the time.” You whisper as the car glides to a stop in front of your building. “Alright, I've gotta go. See you soon alpha.”

You thank Ijichi as he opens up the door for you before ending the call. Taking a large breath, you exhale as you begin to walk towards the building and the inevitable mess awaiting you.

Mess is an understatement when it comes to describing the current state of the penthouse. Furniture is torn, portraits lining the walls shattered on the floor—the kitchen sink has been running for god knows how long.

The whole penthouse reeks of feral alpha, and it makes your eyes water involuntarily. As you carefully weave your way around the carnage, assessing the damage with a carefully neutral expression, a figure emerges into your peripheral from a hallway.

“(Y/N)..?” You freeze, spine rigid as you turn your head to stare at Yuji. “Why’d you stop walkin-” The older Itadori follows behind before stopping at the sight of you.

You aren’t even allowed to think about what to say before you’re engulfed in the tightest hugs you’ve ever received, neck dewy as tears drip from their eyelids.

“(Y/N) oh my god where have you been?” Ryomen chokes out, cradling your face as if you’ll disappear into thin air if he stops touching. “You stopped sharing your location and we couldn’t find where you were and-” 

In his frenzy, the overwhelming scent of peppermint and ozone was an afterthought, but as he’s coming to, the pheromones of a dominant alpha make his hackles raise uncontrollably. “You’ve been with Gojo?” 

Your eyes narrow at the comment. “And if I have? Why do you hate him so much?” You back out of the embrace, posturing defensively at your older brothers. Your (e/c) glow indignantly at them from behind your strawberry dreads, emotions simmering hot underneath the surface. “Give me an articulable reason why I shouldn't be with him. At least he didn’t bring up that piece of shit like two certain people in front of me.” You spit out, tone bordering on venomous.

Ryomen and Yuji visibly flinch at this, but still try to get closer. “We… can’t tell you why yet, you just have to trust us.” Yuji mumbles, scratching his neck. If they told you he was the head of the largest black market arms dealer in Japan, then they would also have to tell you what their profession was, and they weren't ready for that conversation.

You stare at the two of them for a beat before scoffing. “I leave for 3 days because you guys wont tell me anything and have the nerve to bring up my scum of the earth ex after knowing what happened between us, and now that I return, you’re playing the same tune?” Pushing past the two, you march upstairs towards your room, tearing open the door and moving to the closet where you keep your suitcases.

“Woah woah, (Y/N) just hold on a sec-” Yuji tries to interject. “Hold on for what, brother? I’m not sticking around to be a third wheel in a family of 3 brothers.” 

Curdled cream and bitter matcha permeate the space as you throw clothes into two separate bags before moving to your bathroom to pack toiletries away. Ryomen stands in the doorway with his arms crossed, watching you with a narrowed gaze.

“Get out of the way.” You grunt, staring him down. “No. I'm not letting you go back pup.” Ryomen meets your eyes, eyes glowing in challenge. Your eyes widen at the term, nearly dropping the bag in your hands. “My ears must be deceiving me. Could you repeat that for me?” You snarl, voice icy. “I already fucked up the middle child’s hand, I will hurt you too.”

You hold his gaze, not backing down and eventually he slides out of the way with a sigh. “It’s not safe to be with him.” He says from behind you, but you just toss him the bird and finish packing the suitcases.

Both brothers follow you back down towards the front entrance where you stop before the door once again. Yuji’s looking dejected like a kicked puppy while Ryomen has his trademark scowl on his face. “You guys don’t get to be upset. This was brought about by your own doings.” You sigh, running a hand through the part lines on your scalp. “I don’t know when I'll be back, I need to sit and think. Don’t try to find me either.” You toss one last glance over your shoulder at them before leaving again.

“Were you able to place the tracker on him?” Yuji mutters. “Yeah, I’ll send the trace to your phone.” Ryomen exhales, looking down at the live ping on his phone.

You may hate them for it, but they’d be damned if they lost their little brother.

Satoru glides through the office of Limitless Securities like a man anew. Honestly, the truth isn’t far off. He’s never opened himself to someone like this, let alone court an omega. Whispers bubble around the desks but he pays them no mind, striding towards his executive office.

He opens the door to find Shoko and Utahime already inside, lounging on one of the leather couches in the room. “Thought you weren’t gonna show up.” Utahime jeers, Shoko squinting from behind her mug of coffee. “Jesus Satoru, you’re glowing. Who gave you the time of the day?” Shoko snorts, side-eyeing her mate.

“H-How’d you know?” He sputters, face turning an alarming shade of red as he remembers the dirty actions you and him had over the weekend. “Well, you walk in with traces of omega pheromone all over you and you have that dopey grin all over your face—two plus two equals 4.” Shoko takes another sip of coffee, eyes crinkling.

“Alright alright, what's all the noise?” Suguru says smoothly, closing the door behind him. “Gojo found himself an omega~” Utahime wiggles her eyebrows at Satoru. “Not just any omega, ‘m courting him. Was kinda like love at first sight…” Satoru recalls dreamily.

Suguru’s world fractures as the words replay in his head in slow motion. “Courting him.” That can’t be right, right? “When.. When’d you meet him?” The words feel like thorns in his throat but he maintains composure, making sure not to lose control of his face or pheromones.

“Mmm… maybe two weeks ago by now?” Satoru runs his hand through his fluffy tresses. “His name is (Y/N). He’s short, but feisty. Never afraid to stand his ground. Uhm, his hair is naturally pink—and don’t even get me started on his skin. Literally like the highest quality melted chocolate you can find.” 

Satoru continues gushing, but it's like cotton is stuffed in Suguru’s ears. “That’s… great. Yeah. I'm happy for you.” He says, but his voice comes out more empty than he would’ve hoped. “Here’s the timeline for the Hyogo contract. I uh… gotta go check on our current shipments.”

Suguru leaves the office quicker than he came in. Satoru doesn’t notice but the alpha and beta sitting on the couch do, both sharing a knowing look before turning back to the white haired alpha.

“How dare he… Satoru was mine years before your grubby hands got on him.” Suguru snarls under his breath to no one in particular as he storms his way out of the office. When he reaches the elevator at the end of the floor, instead of pressing the level for the parking garage, he scans his fingerprint and puts a code into a keypad recessed into the wall. The doors close, and he begins his descent down to the secret floor not even on government stamped city maps.

After a minute in the elevator, the doors finally open to a warehouse the size of 1 or 2 hectares. Suguru immediately turns towards a small building within the massive warehouse. Inside is a computer connected to its own server. Untraceable, invisible to the world, just like the warehouse around it. 

He logs in with his personal account, opening the secure messaging site on the dark web they use for arms dealing, except this time it isn’t to deal weapons. After a bit of scrolling through chat logs, he finds him. 

24, otherwise known as Naoya Zen’in. He had heard through the underground network about him. Brazen, a total misogynist, and utterly narcissistic. What he had also heard was that he had broken an omega’s heart brutally, one that went by the name of (Y/N).

Etr: Do you know a (Y/N)? Seen 24: (Y/N) Itadori? 24: Used to date the little slut lol 24: Why? Seen Etr: I need him gone Etr: 30 Million Yen in crypto. Half upfront Etr: I’ll send the details later Seen 24: Done. Never liked him anyway, stupid omegas need to know their place. Seen

Suguru exhales, leaning back in the chair. “No one gets you Satoru. I’ll kill you before I let that happen.”

You trudge through the aisles of the pharmacy, medicine and pregnancy tests in your basket. After Ijichi picked you up from the penthouse and took you back to Satoru’s place, you became violently ill, throwing up in the toilet a couple times. You had then promptly called Ijichi back and had him take you to the pharmacy to get some medicine.

You knew you weren’t pregnant, but it was always better to cover your bases. Checking out, you walk back out to the Rolls Royce where Ijichi is waiting, thanking him as he helps you into the car. You try to close your eyes on the way back, but the nausea just makes your head spin.

The ride finally ends, and you slowly make your way back into the estate. Reaching the bathroom attached to Satoru’s room, you take all the pregnancy tests and set a timer before taking some nausea medication.

Hearing the timer go off, you return to the bathroom where you freeze.

Positive. Every. Single. One.

You sigh, looking at the email in your inbox.

From: Upper Management Subject: RE: (dd/mm/yr) Incident Good Morning (Y/N), Thank you for the transparent and honest communication regarding the altercation yesterday. We have since received reimbursement for the damages, and a reasonable settlement on top of that from their legal team. However, it is still in the best interest of the institution to put you on administrative leave. Several onlookers witnessed your outburst, so as to maintain the image of the gardens…

The rest of the paragraph blurs into a blob as you slump back in your desk chair. You can’t say you didn’t expect the outcome, but the result is irritating nonetheless.

Why you? You know you have a small habit of letting your mouth run before your brain catches up… But he deserved it! Can anyone really blame you?

You’re broken out of your melancholy by the sound of your door opening.

Sandalwood and melon invade your nose.

‘Yuji’, you think absentmindedly, hearing footsteps make their way closer towards you.

“Is my little bro okay?” He coaxes, picking you up from underneath your armpits.

“I got put on administrative leave.” You say tersely, staring blankly at Yuji through your dreads, dangling in his hold like a cat.

A frown tugs at his features before they soften again, setting you down gently and enveloping you in a hug.

“Im sorry to hear that (Y/N).” He consoles, blooming his scent around the both of you. Yours react briefly before you withdraw them, pushing away from his hold lightly.

“‘M gonna go clear my head…” You murmur, tying up your dreads and walking out of your room. The house is quiet, save for your small footsteps that echo off of the walls of the hallway. Passing by Ryomen’s home office, you cast a glance inside, seeing him nose deep in whatever work he does, glasses on, brow furrowed as he types away on his keyboard.

You’re about to continue walking, but he stops you before you can.

“C’mere.” He sighs, looking up from the monitor.

You groan, expecting a lecture, but walk into the room nonetheless.

You go around the side of the desk, looking at him impatiently.

Ryomen studies your face for a moment, before reaching for his wallet and pulling out a shiny black card.

“Go treat yourself.” He mutters, voice lacking the usual nagging tone he’d have with you.

The strict eldest brother, the permanent scowl, The Ryomen Itadori, is treating you with his black card?

Maybe God is real.

A grin breaks across your face as you jump at him, his eyes widening.

“Wait-!” He chokes out, instinctively wrapping his arms around you before crashing to the floor in his office chair.

“Ack- Did you really need to do…” He trails off, stopping when he sees the pure smile on your face.

It was radiant. The kind of smile that reaches your eyes and warms up the room. 

Your chocolate skin glows as laughter bubbles out of your mouth, new life breathed into you. Ryomen hasn’t seen you this happy since you’ve been with Naoya. His teeth grit just thinking about the bastard. The day you came home after he broke your heart, he almost burned the world down.

You had smelled of nothing, trudging like a soulless robot up to your room. When Yuji, Megumi, and him had followed you in, he found you collapsed in your nest unresponsive.

Never had he felt such fear.

And when you came to in a hospital bed, wailing at the memories flooding back of what he’d done…

Ryomen had never felt such rage.

A loud, full-bodied purr shakes him out of his thoughts, looking down at your smile once more.

“Does my money really make you that happy?” He questions, feigning annoyance.

“You take me for a gold digger?” You accuse, making an offended face before laughing and smiling again.

“Im just happy at the gesture of you wanting me to be happy.” You chirp, brushing dreads from your face.

Rolling off of him, you stand and help your brother back up—not without calling him old of course, but Ryomen thinks he can deal with it if he gets to see his precious brother smile again.

“I’ll bring you and Yuji something back!” You beam, walking out of his office and out of the multi-story penthouse.

Soooo… you might’ve lied about bringing something back to them.

You’d been wandering around the city for a while now, trying to figure out something to do with the newfound wealth in your pocket.

Blowing a pink loc out of your face, your eyes scan your surroundings once more before spotting a random cafe.

‘Sendai Sweets?’ You think to yourself. “Eh, looks good enough, might as well.” You mutter, walking towards the establishment.

The interior is cozy. Warm lighting, tasteful fauna, and comfortable looking seating choices. While the store is quiet now, you’re sure that during certain hours, it’s the most popular in the area.

Your thoughts are broken by a cheery looking omega that greets you by the counter.

“Hi! Welcome to Sendai Sweets! What can I get you today sir?” They ask in a lively tone.

“Hi! It’s my first time here, so surprise me with something you think I'd like!” You exclaim.

“Hmm…” They grumble, taking a long, hard look at you. “Ah!” They conclude. “I know just what your drink is. Consider it on the house~” They smirk walking back to their workstation to make your drink.

The beverage is completed in no time, and as you go to pick it up, you notice it's a bright sky blue. Your ebony cheeks burn, the color practically identical to a certain dominant alpha’s eyes.

Your pheromones flare as embarrassment washes over you. Looking away as you pick up the drink, you hope your dreads hide your expression.

“Judging by your reaction, I hit my mark~” The barista teases, wiggling their eyebrows. “Enjoy~!”

You whisper a thanks, walking back to your beanbag before slumping into it.

You cover your face, skin feeling entirely too warm as you recall how many things remind you of him now.

The bottle of creamer in the fridge—Yuji had looked at you like you were crazy when the fridge door slammed shut. The color of a flower in the background of a photo Megumi sent from the lab—hell, even the clear sky today reminds you of him.

You take a sip of the drink, a breathy sigh escaping you.

It's peppermint. Why would it be anything else?

The door chime echos and your ears perk up.

Your inner omega recognizes it before you do. ‘Alpha’s here!’ It howls in your head.

Your eyes widen as you place your gaze on Satoru. Gone is the starched and pressed polo and crisp pants, instead replaced with an all-too-soft looking hoodie, and a pair of grey sweats.

He looks up at the menu while stretching, and your eyes drift to his midriff.

I thought they stopped carving Greek statues?

Your eyes are glowing a hypnotizing shade of (e/c) as you drool at the muscled frame teasing your vision.

“Hi, can I do my usual?” Satoru asks the worker.

“Of course Mr Gojo! Tap when you’re ready. It'll be out in a few.” The omega responds.

Satoru taps his card, leaving a hefty tip before turning and stopping when he catches a whiff of your pheromones. His eyes blaze looking for yours, pheromones instinctually trying to reach out to yours.

When your eyes finally meet, the rest of the world melts away.

He hasn’t washed that polo since you bumped into him, and the fading scent has only made him more antsy. A low croon threatens to bubble out of his throat, but your quick movement snaps him out of his trance.

“Wait-” He tries to call out, but you’re gone before he can say something.

Satoru sighs, eyes going back to the beanbag you were sitting on. Before he can stop himself, he finds himself curled up in where you just were. His inner alpha purrs and yips, finally in the presence of its omega again.

The worker watches the interaction from the counter, a fond expression on their face.

“I give ‘em 2 weeks.” They mutter to themselves, shaking their head as they finish getting Satoru’s order ready.

So that moment wasn’t an invitation for him to show up everywhere in your life?

Ever since that time in the shop, you can’t seem to go somewhere without him being there too. Flower shop? He “just so happens” to need to buy a bouquet. The motorcycle dealership when you’re browsing for another sports bike? “Looking for a gift for his brother.”

The final straw is when you dip into an alley to throw away a gum wrapper one afternoon and lo and behold, he happens to pop out of a side entrance, pretending to look at his phone.

You move before you even think, slamming him into the brick, hands fisting the collar of his shirt while your legs keep him pinned and immobilized. The phone, still unlocked, flies out of his hand onto the concrete ground.

Satoru’s hands instinctually reach for his gun before your scent registers in his brain. ‘My Omega’, he thinks, a dopey grin gracing his face as he looks down at you.

“Is this some kind of sick joke to you?” You snap, pressing him into the brick wall even harder.

“I see you everywhere, and now everything reminds me of you and your stupid mug. You’ve got my attention. Are you happy?” You jab.

Your eyes pulse behind your strawberry dreads, now covering your face messily from your harsh movements.

All Satoru can think is that his omega is so strong, so feisty, so… perfect. The only one for him.

You remind him of an angry kitten, eliciting a laugh out of him.

“What are you laughing at? This isn’t funny asshole.” You snarl.

“Sorry sorry… It's just that my omega looks so cute right now I couldn’t help it.” Satoru croons, absolutely smitten as he looks down at you with those bright blue eyes.

Your brain short-circuts, steam pouring out of your ears as you register what insanity he just said. 

You feel his hands slot on your hips a little too well, like your waist was designed with them in mind. Your own hands slowly let go of his shirt, face burning as his scent of peppermint, ozone, and vanilla envelops the both of you.

You so desperately want to pull away, to slap him for all that’s happened to you because of him, but your body won’t let you. Your inner omega screams at you to let it happen, soaking up all the attention from the alpha it’s already claimed as its own.

You stammer, trying to get anything to come out of your mouth, but all that resonates in the narrow alley is a small squeak.

You force yourself to move away, Satoru’s hands chasing their purchase on your body as your own cover your chocolate face.

“No shade… but ‘your omega’ is crazy considering we haven’t even talked properly.” You mumble, peeking at him from behind your hands.

“So let me.” Satoru breathes, closing the gap between you two again.

You gotta give it to him, he’s quick on his feet, and that little moment might’ve been just enough.

You both stare into each other's eyes for a moment–pupils blown.

Fuck it.

You flip your positions with surprising strength, pinning Satoru down once more.

“On my time,” You begin, tilting his head down with a finger. “On my terms…” You drawl, sliding another finger down the center of his chest, squatting sultrily to pick up the phone. “And at my tempo.” You utter, putting in your contact info.

“382 XX Street, 8pm sharp. Dress comfy, and don't be late.” You whisper in his ear, before slinking away and out of the alley.

A beat passes before Satoru finally takes a breath. His hands tremble, one going to cover his mouth, the other clutching the phone like a lifeline. 

In it, a new chat started. The name (Y/N) sits at the top like it owns him.

(Y/N)... (Y/N)... (Y/N).

Satoru couldn’t imagine a name more fitting for you.

His breathing is erratic, sharp intakes and exhales resounding against the narrow passage.

The tips of his ears and the peaks of his cheeks are tinged red, and he can almost taste the remnants of your scent in the air.

He hopes you didn’t notice the wet spot that formed in his pants.

You giggle in the elevator up to the family penthouse, practically vibrating with excitement as you stare down at the messages on your screen. It's cute to see him so worked up.

6:11pm

Satoru: 382 XX Street right? Satoru: I promise this’ll be worth your time Satoru: Can’t wait to see you Read 6:13pm Y/N: So needy Read 6:13pm Y/N: I'm excited to see you too Sent 6:14

You smile at your phone gently as you walk into the penthouse, pheromones warm and soft. You don’t notice the frowns on your brothers faces as you make your way up the stairs to your room to get ready.

You shower with deliberate slowness, making sure every inch of your ebony skin is clean before drying yourself and moisturizing. Choosing clothes, you decide on a cropped hoodie and some cute shorts, tying back your strawberry dreads into a messy ponytail.

You’re humming to yourself as you make your way to the bottom of the stairs, turning to the main entrance, but stop when Ryomen clears his throat behind you.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He asks with a pointed gaze.

“Oh, uh… going out bowling with Yuji?” You mumble, not meeting his eyes. “Wanna try again?” Yuji grunts, walking out from around a pillar.

“Okay so like what is this? Why do I need to tell you my whereabouts?” You counter, getting defensive.

Yuji and Ryomen maintain their distance, but their gazes don’t get any less scrutinizing.

“We know you’re talking to Satoru. We told you to stay away from him-” Ryomen gets cut off.

“And why do I have to listen to you? You’re acting like I'm not a grown person that can make their own decisions! My business is my business!” You snap, bearing your fangs at them.

Why was it always like this? They get to keep their stupid secrets and you have to show your entire agenda, just because they’re “being protective”.

“Why do I have to spill every little thing to you two? You guys are so paranoid and secretive sometimes that I feel like I barely know my own brothers!”

Ouch. That one hurts.

“That’s… different.” Ryomen mutters, looking away.

“How so? Secrets are secrets, Ryomen.” You question, tilting your head in mock confusion.

“(Y/N), we just don't want a repeat of Naoya-” Yuji interjects, trying to place a hand on your shoulder. 

“DON’T SAY HIS FUCKING NAME!” You roar, swiping your now clawed hands at him.

Yuji’s eyes widen, hissing as watches blood drip from the lacerations. He looks to Ryomen, who’s at a loss for words, eyes just as wide as Yuji’s own.

Even in the biggest of disagreements, you had never screamed at them, much less hurt them.

Your pheromones, sweet cream and matcha, which had been slowly souring over the course of the argument plummet into the most curdled, bitter and burnt scent a dominant omega could produce, eyes blazing like an inferno.

Tears fill your full lashes as you clench your teeth, hands trembling with rage.

“Don’t… say his name.” You whisper.

The silence surrounding the three of you is suffocating, but Yuji and Ryomen can’t bring themselves to break it.

You silently make your way over to the main entrance, picking up your motorcycle keys and riding gear, and cast one last glance back to your brothers who’re stuck to their spots before slamming the door.

A framed picture of the three of you from years before falls to the ground, glass shattering on impact.

Satoru sits nervously at a booth, fidgeting with the bouquet of orange zinnias he got for you. Truthfully, he arrived 30 minutes before, anxious about making a good impression. Did his hair look good? Was a crewneck overdressing? Did his face break out on the ride over here?!

A shaky exhale leaves him as he sets down the bouquet, burying his head in his arms. Why was an omega making him feel like this? He’d never been one for long term relationships with people, much less romantically. Too much at risk—entirely too much to lose. His heart still hurts whenever his mind goes back to watching his entire family get gunned down at 15.

Satoru is pulled from his thoughts when he hears the sound of a sports bike coming to a stop outside of the restaurant. Before he can wonder who it is, you walk through the door.

Ah, now he remembers why he feels like this.

Your chocolatey skin glows under the soft lighting, coral locs slightly tousled by the helmet now resting against your hip. Your face is healthy—full, yet sharp in the right places. Your eyes… such an alluring shade of (e/c). His eyes trail down, mouth running bone dry as they devour the sight of your smooth, taut stomach.

“Oh my god…” He utters to no one in particular. He almost forgets to blink, and when he does, his heart leaps out of his chest when he finds you’re standing in front of him, smirking.

“Hi stalker man~” You tease, sitting down in the opposite booth.

A deep blush covers his face as he hides behind his hands. “S-Sorry, all of my rationality kinda went out the window when I met you…” He whispers. 

‘Cute’ You muse, smiling softly. Seeing such a progenitor of the dominant alpha reduced to a stammering, jumpy little mess stirs something primal in you.

You can tell he’s nervous, eyes looking everywhere but yours.

“Satoru.” You coax, taking his hands into your smaller ones. “Breathe.” You smile, releasing some calming pheromones.

You watch his eyes finally meet yours, pupils dilating as he inhales your scent.

“You back with me? You croon, releasing his hands.

“Yeah, uh… sorry about that.” Satoru says sheepishly.

Your eyes travel over to the bouquet on the table. “Zinnia elegans.” You blurt out, botanist brain activated. “Represents strength, endurance, and long life. How bold of you~”

Despite your joking remarks, a genuine grin stretches your melanated skin.

“I thought it was poetic. You’re very strong, both in body and mind…” Satoru retorts playfully, gaining back some of the confidence you saw when you first met him.

Sensing that the mood had been calmed, you flagged down a waiter, ordering a round of apps and drinks for the two of you.

“Do I get a say in what we have?” Satoru voices, looking up at you from his menu.

“Mm… nah. If you want this going any further, your palette is getting trained.” You snicker, setting down the menu and toying with the hem of your cropped hoodie.

Conversation comes easy once the food and drinks arrive, and the anger and hurt you were suppressing melted away into something warm and fuzzy in your gut.

You enjoy watching him gingerly try each dish you put in front of him, sharing occasionally when it's something you really like.

Was ordering him oxtail shoving him straight into the deep end? Yes. Did it need to happen? Also yes.

By the end of the date, you both are a couple drinks in, bellies full, and enjoying the comfortable silence.

“Could you really not s’me when you bumped into me?” You slur, giggling intermittently at nothing as you pay the tab and walk out beside him.

“Was jus’ bein mean. Defense mechanism. M’sorry~” Satoru replies back sadly, tipsy, but handling his liquor better than you.

You smile at him, pulling him close by the arm and tucking your face into his chest.

“We can work through that.” You say, regaining some clarity, looking back up at him from your position.

“I wanna go to yours, pleaseee? ‘M too drunk to ride back, ‘n I don’t feel like seeing my brothers anyway right now, ‘m still angry at them.” You plead, hands resting on his chest now.

His breath hitches as he looks down at you, committing every detail to memory. 

“Yeah. That’d be nice if you’re okay with that.” Satoru breathes out.

He calls his chauffeur–because of course he has one, sobering up quickly as his body shields you—protecting his omega.

A sleek Rolls Royce glides to a stop in front of the two of you quickly, and he helps you in before getting in behind you. You vaguely hear Satoru talking to the driver, ‘Ijichi, another beta’ cataloguing it away for later.

The cityscape glides by quietly, slowly fading into even quieter suburbs. You would’ve fallen asleep if not for Satoru occasionally rubbing patterns on your exposed midriff.

When the car finally stops, you’re in front of the steps of a lavish mansion. Your eyes drift to the metal gates around the perimeter, before landing back on Satoru, who offers you a hand.

“Shall we?” He queries, a small grin on his face.

“After you… I like to watch~” You croon, eyes lidding as you take the hand leading you into the estate.

The mansion is opulent, floors made out of materials you can’t even pronounce. It’s not like you really expected anything else. The man wears Tom Ford polos like they’re Hanes undershirts.

“Impressive right?” Satoru smiles, inner alpha preening at its omega being in its domain.

“I’ll admit, it’s nice.” You chuff, letting your eyes roam around.

“D’you want anything to drink?” He asks, moving towards the Michelin-level kitchen. You lean against a large island, eyes taking in his body as he faces away from you, rummaging through the fridge.

“Mm.. Nah. I like to watch people fall apart with a clear head.” Satoru freezes, neck flushing as he turns around to meet your face, a sultry smile adorning your chocolate features.

Your eyes flare, pheromones blooming around the two of you. “C’mere ‘Toru.”

If anyone else were present, he would’ve been embarrassed by how quickly he closed the distance. His hands find your hips immediately, deft fingers teasing your waistband. You let your arms fall easily around his neck, eyes gazing into Satoru’s own with unspoken desire. Satoru’s eyes dart to your lips, full, moisturized, absurdly kissable. Aquaphor perchance? Or are you more of a cocoa butter vaseline person?

“You gonna keep staring or kiss me already?” You whisper, pulling him closer.

Sweet—warm like a heated blanket on a snowy day. It has Satoru reeling. You’re a good– no, great kisser, lips silky soft as they mold against his own.

Definitely cocoa butter.

His eyes close, each burden of his life lifting away with every shaky exhale. Your tongue prods against his lips, before snaking into his mouth.

Satoru’s irises pulse behind his eyelids, pheromones from your saliva infecting him like a virus, rewriting his code until all he can recognize is you you you.

A sharp groan from him gets swallowed up, eyes opening to see you grinding against him.

“Mnh– slurp– alpha feels good, hm?” Your tongue maps his wet cavern, colonizing territory for the camp of (Y/N). All Satoru can muster is a muffled whine as one of your hands sneaks into his sweats, the other massaging his pec through the crewneck.

You pull off with a pwah, mouth moving to suck on his milky skin. Satoru’s hands twitch against your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as you mark up his neck.

“Y-(Y/N), please– anh-!” He keens, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Please what ‘Toru?” You admire his now mottled throat with possessive pride.

“Wanna be i-inside— Need it s’bad– Please ill be a good boy i promise–” You cut him off with another aggressive kiss, (e/c) eyes vibrating as you drink up his flushed appearance.

“Room. Now.” You growl against his lips, moving his hands under your butt to lift you up.

You tie your pink dreads back with a hair tie on your wrist as Satoru maneuvers you both through his maze of a house, before cupping his face and making out with him again. Walking up a set of marble stairs, he turns sharply down a hallway, kicking open a door with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Your eyes flit up, observing the new room. Its the master bedroom obviously, but it barely looks lived in. An alaskan king with egyptian cotton sheets peeks at you, but Satoru’s needy lips capture your attention once more.

He only pauses when he finally sits on the mattress, hands sliding from your waist to under your cropped hoodie, helping you take it off. You do the same for him, stripping each other until you’re both bare before your gazes, dicks twitching against eachother’s abdomens.

You smirk, looking at his flushed face, then the rest of his body, eyes carressing skin all the way down to his throbbing member.

Trailing a hand that was resting on his well-muscled shoulder, you let it fall, tracing patterns as it gets closer and closer to his cock. You stop just above his pelvis, fingers traveling between hard muscle before pushing him down.

Satoru barely has time to catch his breath before supple mounds block his airways, sweet cream and matcha invading his senses involuntarily. “Lets see if that tongue can do anything else besides smooth talk~” You rock your hips against his mouth, urging him to start.

Satoru pokes his tongue out, shyly licking a stripe across your hole.

Fuck. Why does every part of you have to be so addicting? His eyes roll back as he laps up the syruped essence, slick dripping down his chin and neck. Satoru slurps it up like holy nectar, the only communion wine he acccepts. 

Soft groans and whines bubble out of your throat, eyes closing in pleasure as he eats you out like thanksgiving dinner. Satoru cant get enough of you, pulling you even harder against his face so he can plunge his tongue into your hole. A surprised moan warbles out, ebony hands scrambling for purchase in his snow-white locs.

“G-Good boy. Pleasuring– hn-! your ‘mega so well- ah-!” You choke out, head lolling back. Satoru’s entire body trembles at the praise, senses overwhelmed and inner alpha preening. His cock bobs and strains against his stomach, puddles of pre dottin’ his abs like the great lakes. “Only f’you- sluurp- pretty prince- hah-” Your juices coat his throat like medicine for a cough—persistent and enslaving in its onslaught.

“And good boys- ohmyfuckinggod- deserve r-rewards, right?” You look down at Satoru, blissed out expression on his face. All he can manage is a moan of approval, pumping out more pheromones that make your head swim.

“S’good- keep working that- hn-! tongue-” You pant, grinding harder on his face. Every time your hips rock forward, he catches another whiff of your heady scent, tumbling him further and further into the world of bliss that is your whole being.

Satoru could die happy like this, sandwiched between your melanated cheeks and forced to guzzle your slick until he drowns, but it seems you won’t let him succumb to that fate.

Shakily turning around, you lean down, finally letting Satoru get fresh air. His cock throbs in front of your face, knot already swelling at the base. You place a chaste kiss to the tip, sucking gently.

“AH-! (Y/N)-” “Shh.. jus’ take your treat~” You mumble around the pulsing head, scooping up the copious amount of precum and spreading it across his shaft.

A squeal escapes Satoru’s mouth as you begin stroking his large dick with both hands. Your hands work all the way from what’s not in your mouth alllll the way to the base of the knot, squeezing the swelling appendage. His thighs clench, legs thrashing from the devastating pleasure.

“Aht aht. Shtay- sluurp- still~” You purr, pressing your elbows into his legs.

Wet schlicks and faps echo around the bedroom, interrupted intermittently by Satoru’s choked cries and moans of pleasure and your messy mouth.

“Wait- Gonna cum-!” Satoru sobs, throwing his head against the mattress when your throat sinks down around his shaft, tongue working an orgasm that crashes like a tidal wave.

You hum in approval, gulping down his release as your wet hands work over his knot again and again—no breaks given as his body shakes uncontrollably, second orgasm threatening to crest.

“‘S gonna break-!” Wet cries escape him as the coil snaps once more, legs locking out, biceps flexing. You pull off when you can’t swallow any more, cock spurting the remnants of its milky spend onto your chocolate hands.

“Fuck yes- Thats it baby, let it all out~” You purr, bringing a hand back to mix his cum with the mess of slick and spit in your hole. The other continues languidly stroking him as you work yourself the rest of the way open.

It doesn’t take long thanks to Satoru’s (now broken) tongue, and you find yourself facing him again. Through bleary eyes, he sees your lithe, ebony figure straddling his waist, licking up what's left of his cum on the other hand while staring at him with those glowing (e/c) eyes.

“You back with me, lover boy?” You ask carefully, checking to see if he can continue. “I… I don’t think i’ve cum that hard in my life and I didn’t even stick it in.” He says after a moment, catching his breath.

You chuckle at his response, leaning down to cup his face, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. He accepts it enthusiastically, mouths dancing against one another. “You think you can handle some more?” You probe, rocking back softly against his rehardening length. “I wouldn’t be Satoru Gojo if I couldn’t.” He says reverent, staring at you with his eyes that glint like freshly cut topaz.

He lied. He absolutely lied.

Broken moans escape Satoru as you ride his dick like a rollercoaster—stretchy hole tugging on every draw out, refusing to let him get a reprieve from the pleasure that consumes him. Your plush thighs bracket him against the expensive sheets as you milk him for his 3rd orgasm, hands guiding his to your scent glands, massaging more hypnotizing pheromones out of you.

“Mmmfuck- such a good alpha- ahn~! g’nna hafta let you court me-” You bite out, throwing your head back at a particular thrust upwards from him. “Right thereee-!” Slick gushes out around Satoru’s cock as it abuses your prostate, hammering against the pleasure button like a mochi pounder. Nasty squelches and fwaps filling up his ears, pushing him further and further to the edge.

“(Y/N)- (Y/N)-! Wanna knot you s’bad- fuck- need ittt-” Satoru moans, hands moving to your chocolate globes to knead and spread them around his member, knot swelling and beginning to bump against your rim.

“Mh- make me fat with your kids- ah-! riiight here~?” You bring his hands from your waist to just above your pelvis, coffee complexion bulging with every deep thrust he spears into your body. Fuck. The thought has him reeling, sly grin on your face as you slow it down, rocking your hips back and forth until his knot begins catching on your hole.

You’re so, so mean—carressing his face as you knotfuck him, the bulbous base stretching and slipping in and out, over and over—you’re so complete in the way you dismantle him, piece by piece, taking everything until there's nothing and rebuilding him just for you.

“Cum for me, Satoru.” You command using your omega tone, knot entombing itself in your hole one last time. Drool slips out the side of his mouth as the floodgates open, cum spiderwebbing your hole and filling you up until your insides are the same color as his skin.

The throbbing of his bulging knot against your prostate is enough to make the resistance in your loins snap too, slick squirting around his base as your cock paints his stomach. Through the loyal fog in his brain, he sees his new deity, one with strawberry colored dreads and (e/c) eyes that hypnotize him with every gaze.

“Good boy” Satoru registers hands scrubbing his hair with a gentleness unfamiliar to him, warm water and bath salts seeping into his skin as you wash away his hardships. “Did s’good for me, ‘Toru.” You whisper, rinsing the conditioner from his tresses. He tries to speak, small whines escaping his mouth, but you kiss them away, letting him sink further into you.

You both stay like that for some time, you pampering him as he floats in subspace. Drying the both of you off, you lead him back to changed sheets, choosing to forgo clothes. Laying him down, you get on top of him gingerly, head resting against his chest, arms wrapped around you. “Sleep well f’me, my lover boy.”

Satoru awakens to birds chirping, feeling the most refreshed he has in years, mind clear and body light. Images from the previous night play in his mind, and all he can do is pray that they weren’t a dream. He doesn’t feel your weight on him, alarming him greatly.

Where’s his omega?

He almost trips over his own two feet, throwing on a pair of grey sweats before tumbling through the mansion, eyes frantic. You can’t just leave him like this. He won’t let you. He rounds the corner to the kitchen, and his breath catches in his throat.

There you are, locs messy in one of his oversized hoodies. His eyes dilate, watching you cook breakfast for the both of them. An involuntary croon rumbles in his chest, alerting you to his presence. A gentle smile graces your features when you see him, pausing what you’re doing.

“Morning babe.” Your chest purrs in response to him. Satoru walks over, standing in front of you before wrapping his strong arms around you tightly, tucking his head into the junction of your neck, inhaling your scent. “Was gonna bring you something to eat in bed-”“I like you, (Y/N). Please let me court you.” Satoru breathes out, not meeting your eyes. “You dummy, I like you too.. look at me please?” You whisper, cupping his face, meeting his glossy eyes. “What’s got you so worked up?” Satoru sniffles, rubbing his face in your palms.

“Thought you left me… didn’t feel you when I woke up so I got scared-” The words tumble out, scent dimming. You stop his rambling with a kiss, blooming calming pheromones around the both of you.

“Breathe with me, in and out.” You whisper, inhaling and exhaling with him until he calms down. “I’m not leaving you Satoru.” You wipe away the tears dotting his lashes, meeting his gaze after. “Okay?” Satoru’s heart swells at the declaration, falling even harder for you. “Okay.”

The rest of the weekend is bliss, spending time in each other's embrace, going on dates, exploring each other at night—Satoru is the other half you never knew you had.

Monday comes far too quickly for your liking. Another one of Satoru’s stupidly soft hoodies swallows your body, borrowing a pair of sweats from him as well. You make a makeshift nest for him out of the clothes you wore over and some scented blankets.

“See you soon?” You mumble, looking up at him, pink locs framing your face. “‘F course baby. Call me when Ijichi drops you off?” “Yeah.” You stand on your tippy toes, arms falling around his neck as you kiss him goodbye.

Satoru watches the Rolls Royce drive away, fingers ghosting over his lips.

“Miss you already..” He murmurs, turning back to get dressed for today.

Fresh coffee weaves its way into your olfactory as you rouse, sitting up in your nest.

The first rays of vitamin D grace your melanated skin, projecting an ethereal glow onto your body. 

‘Ryomen must still be here’, you think to yourself, rearranging the blankets knocked awry in your slumber. You groan as you stand up, joints popping as you make your way towards the bathroom. Taking off your bonnet, you leave your strawberry colored dreads up in their hair ties as you perform your elaborate skincare routine. 

You yawn, going through the motions etched into your bones at this point. 

Deep cleanser, dry, clear pore astringent, moisturizer, toner, dark spot healer, and sunscreen.

Why couldn’t you get your brothers genetics? Yuji and Ryomen didn’t even break out in their teens, let alone have to moisturize. What a luxury to wake up glowing, you muse as you finish, taking down your dreads as well. 

You change into a pair of black slacks and a turtleneck, adjusting the collar as you check yourself out in the mirror. “Not bad (Y/N), not bad,” you say, turning to leave. 

Making your way downstairs towards the scent that woke you up, you spot Ryomen leaned up against the island, coffee in one hand, iPad in the other. 

“Morning,” you mumble, giving thanks as you grab the cup already placed out for you. 

“The other brat left a little before you woke up. I’ll be out of here in a minute,” Ryomen grunts, tsking at something on the tablet. 

You try to peek at what’s on the screen, but he tilts it away before you can get a good look.

“What’s up with that? Actin’ like you’re hiding the world’s secrets on that thing,” You say, slightly annoyed. 

You cross your arms. “Surely all dominant alphas aren’t like this, not even Choso does this and he works for forensics.”

Your scent—sweet cream and matcha gains an acrid note as you turn away, grumbling under your breath. 

Before you move out of arms length, Ryomen wraps a strong arm around you, scenting you with a familial gentleness that betrays his demeanor. 

“Drive safely, brat,” he mutters, the smoky scent of dark chocolate and smooth whiskey enveloping you like a cloak. 

The grumbles you were feeding melt into a soft purr, your own scent sweetening once again as you make your way towards the door.

“I should be telling that to you, Mr. Lead foot.” You giggle, closing the entrance behind you.

Ryomen watches as the wooden panel seals shut before returning his gaze to his tablet. 

On the screen was pre-release information of Six Eyes’s new arms trafficking deal. His red eyes glow as he sips the last of his coffee.

Megumi was already there when you got to the lab, writing up a report on last week’s research.

“Morning ‘Gumi,” you say cheerily, going up to scent the fellow omega, breathing in the familiar hyacinth and linen scent. 

He’s been around your family since before you were born, Yuji and him being childhood friends before they courted each other in adulthood. 

“Morning to you too, (N/N). Sleep well?” He asks, pulling back with a smile, “As well as I can with preheat creeping up,” You drawl, slipping on your lab coat and pulling your locs back.

“That’s gotta be harsh. I can’t imagine dealing with that without Yuji.” Megumi says softly, a small grin gracing his face as he looks up at the wedding band on his finger.

“Bleh. You’re so lovesick I'm gonna puke.” You poke your tongue out, teasing the expression he’s making.

Spinning around in your chair, you look at your workstation. 

“Let’s see… petri dish cultures, need to review that pitch from the elementary school,” You list, reading off of the to-do sheet on the table.

“Terrarium Delivery? That’s today?” You say quizzically, glancing at Megumi for an explanation.

“Yeah, the shipping company suddenly sped up the process,” He says, standing and opening a filing cabinet with the delivery forms. “It should be here in..” Megumi mumbles, looking down at his watch, eyes widening slightly, “Now actually. Take a trolley with you,” He says, handing you a clipboard and the forms. 

You give thanks, depositing the clipboard in the trolley and walking out of the lab. The air is clear, no clouds dotting the sky as you bask in the warmth heating your ebony face. Insects buzz lowly, mixing with the harmonic warbles and tweets of birds in the trees. As you pass by a row of hibiscus bushes, a butterfly lands on a stray loc, eliciting a giggle to bubble from your throat. 

The botanical gardens never failed to soothe you, even on the rockiest of days. When grandpa died, it was there for you, and now that you’re graduated, you can finally give back to it. Whether or not you got the job due to Megumi… well, that didn’t matter in the end did it? 

Reaching the entrance of the gardens, a box truck pulls up alongside the curb. Good thing Megumi was on top of the time huh?

The driver hops out, greeting you politely. A clean, refreshing scent snakes its way into your nose. ‘Beta huh? Always love a beta. Respectful, great mediators, all around good people.’ You think, giving a cheerful hello back.

Handing over the forms to them, they open up the back and help you load up.

You two make small talk, conversing about the weather and the beauty of the garden as you gingerly place the containers into the trolley.

Thanking the driver again, you walk with the last terrarium in your hand, and are about to place with the rest when a man with blindingly white hair bumps into you. You drop what you’re holding, stumbling into the trolley which falls over. The sound of glass shattering reverberates off the side of the box truck as you sit amongst hundreds of dollars of wasted research materials, hissing at the cuts on your hands. 

“Oh? Didn’t see ya there,” The mysterious man says condescendingly, lifting his sunglasses, revealing blue irises that glow brighter than his platinum white hair. “You’re just so small, anyone could miss you~” He taunts, leaning down slightly to gaze at your recovering form. 

You’re shitting me. What did you do in a past life to be dealing with this at this time in the morning?

A growl builds in your throat as you scowl up at him. 

“Those eyes must be for show then. You’d think height improves visibility but clearly that’s a lie,” You fire back as your scent gains a dangerous edge. 

“Hoho, feisty one aren’t you?” He quips, amused at your plight.

Oh. So he wants to die. Got it.

You’re about to grill his ass, absolutely deep fry him, the first insults at the tip of your tongue when Megumi appears behind you. 

“What’s going on?” He asks, fretting over your injuries. You hiss as he spreads your hands out, inspecting the damage.

“This trifling, dominant alpha dickhead,” You punctuate, eyes flaring a violent shade of (e/c) behind your now messy dreads, “Bumped into me on purpose and now the whole delivery is destroyed.” 

You end, now on your feet with the help of Megumi. Your scowl deepens when a soft chuckle escapes the white-haired man’s mouth. 

If you weren’t about to explode like a barrel of TNT, you would’ve found that sound rather hot.

Smooth like a boba pearl, mature like a fine scotch. 

However, it does nothing more than push you closer to the edge of your restraint. 

Your pulse hammers harder—dominant pheromones shift to even more burnt. Fuck, even your nails become more claw-like. Everything in your being is solely locked on this interloper determined to ruin your day.

“Dickhead is a bit harsh, no?” He pouts, feigning hurt. 

Is this bleached bitch really serious?

“Oh no no no… you must have things severely mistaken if you think you can play the victim card right now,” You snarl, beginning to walk closer to the tall male.

The driver decides that now’s their chance to back up. Even as a beta, they can sense the dangerous cocktail of pheromones surrounding the space around them.

The rational side of your brain is halfway out of the window when Megumi tugs weakly on your sleeve. His normally composed look is flushed, panting hard as he lets out a small whine, bearing his neck. 

“Pheromones- hah- s-strong…” He gasps out, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

Your eyes widen, realizing the danger that you’re putting Megumi in, and immediately reign in your pheromones, (e/c) now a dull glow instead of the psychedelic pulsing they had been doing. 

“Fuck, ‘Gumi here.. Sit down.” You say anxiously, neutralizing the tone of your pheromones and re-scenting him.

The platinum man watches with amusement, a grin tugging at his lips. ‘What an… intriguing guy.’ He thinks, eyes roaming across your body behind his sunglasses.

“Alright, alright. Enough fun. I’ll pay for the damaged materials.” He says, fishing out two business cards. 

He hands one to the forgotten driver, and the other gets snatched out of his fingers by you. 

“Like there were any other options…” You grumble, reading the details.  “Satoru…” You grimace, looking back up at the dominant alpha. 

“Much better than dickhead right? Don’t wear it out~” He coos. 

“You wish…” You roll your eyes. “What am I even supposed to do with this anyway?”

“Send an email to the email address on the card by the end of day and I’ll have someone sort out the logistics.” He waves you off, already walking away.

How fucking professional.

You share a glance with the delivery driver, before shaking your head and turning to Megumi.

“Guess I gotta file a report. Fuck, no promotion for me..” You drape yourself over the other omega, pouting into his lab coat as you both walk back to the research section of the botanical garden.

Satoru rushes into the nearest public bathroom he can find, stall door slamming shut as he slumps into the toilet seat and fucking gulps in your scent stuck to his polo. 

He’s drunk on it. Like the most addictive sake.

It's better than Kikifuku, no– better than every sweet on the planet. He can practically taste the sweet cream on his tongue, the silkiness of the matcha. Satoru’s never needed something so badly in his life.

It's almost pathetic how little it takes. One, maybe two strokes of his hands through his pants and he’s spilling into his underwear like a fucking schoolboy.

His blue irises pulse wildly, panting like a dog as he shudders in the post-nut clarity.

“Im fucked…” He mutters, staring at a ceiling tile.

“Im fucked…” You mutter, looking at the reply email from upper management after you filed your report.

“Why today? Why me?” You whine into the table, banging your now bandaged hands into the resin surface. “Stop moping, your pheromones are gonna kill all the plants.” Megumi replies from across the room. “And tie your hair back again, I don't want to hear ‘My beautiful dreads, how could you let this happen?’” He mimics, faux tears and all.

“‘Gumi.. I'm hurt. You’re right, but I’m hurt.” You stare in shock, reluctantly following instruction.

You meander through the rest of the day, eventually getting your other tasks done.

“Here’s your email, Mistow Satowu.” You mock, sending the email to the provided address, before signing out.

“God, today was exhausting.” You moan, stretching as you and Megumi make your way to the parking lot. “Hope upper management doesn’t get on my ass too hard. It wasn’t even my fault…” You grumble, thinking back to the interaction. “Ooh he pisses me off bad, my corners are gonna start fading from him.” 

That sparks a giggle from Megumi behind you. As you ramble on, he sends a text to Yuji.

5:34pm

Gumibear <3: Ran into Six Eyes at work today. (Y/N) seemed really mad but… Gumibear <3: Well, you know him Read 5:35pm Strawberry Tiger <3: Shit Strawberry Tiger <3: Thanks for telling me. Me ‘n Ryo will talk to him later Read 5:35pm

Megumi looks back up at you, concern on his face. You always had the habit of seeing the best in people. Extending your graces to those that really didn’t deserve it. You were quick to love someone with your full heart. He could never fault you for that—but he also remembers holding you as you sobbed into his chest when you had your first heartbreak. Him and your two brothers were probably the only thing stopping you from dropping even faster that day.

‘No’, he thinks to himself. He won’t let that happen again, and certainly not with someone as dangerous as Satoru.

You tilt your head back, a curious look on your face. “You good? Haven’t heard you say anything in a bit.” You question, slowing your pace to let him catch up.

“Fine. Y-Yeah, fine… Just lost in thought a bit.” He stutters, cheeks flushing as he looks away.

“Awww you have to tell me now~” You wiggle your eyebrows, laughing at his embarrassment.

You both share laughs on the way to your cars, before saying goodbye and driving to your houses.

Yuji and Ryomen are both on the couch when you get back, watching some drama you don't understand. ‘Suits’? Is what you think it’s called. You could never be bothered to sit through a whole episode whenever they put it on.

Pausing it, they stand up and gently scent you as you make your way towards them. You can’t see it, but they scowl when they smell Satoru on you.

A dominant alpha, on you? No way in hell if they have anything to say about it. 

You’re purring softly by the time they’re done, smelling like the perfect mix of Yuji’s sandalwood and melon, Ryomen’s whiskey and dark chocolate, and your own sweet aroma. 

Just strong enough for a family pack, just weak enough to not be oppressive.

“We heard about what happened today. You remember what we told you?” Yuji says, looking at you with those big puppy eyes.

“Sigh… yes Yuji. I didn’t even like him, or want to interact with him.” You pout, looking the other direction.

“We’re serious brat. It’s for your safety.” Ryomen says, pulling on one of your locs.

“Ow ow ow ow i get it..! Easy easy I just got them retwisted you big oaf!” You cry out, rubbing your tender scalp and glaring up at Ryomen.

“Especially him.” He adds. “Why?” You question, “You know him?”

“...Call it an older brother’s intuition.” Yuji interjects after a pause, now suddenly very interested in his nails.

“...Whatever. I'm gonna be in my nest.” You say, giving a sideways glance at them before heading upstairs.

Yuji and Ryomen share a knowing look, before slowly moving back to the couch.

Your door opens, then closes. The business card in your pocket feels magnetized to you as you slump down against the wood, staring at the bespoke design.

Raising it to your nose, you take a long inhale. Peppermint, ozone, and a touch of vanilla bean paint your olfactories. A warm feeling settles in your stomach, the tips of your ears burning as you sniff the card like a drug.

You crawl from your spot against the door into your nest, grinding into a pillow as you lose yourself in the scent that’s uniquely Satoru. It calls to you. Primal, raw—everything you need that you never knew existed.

Your eyes roll back, throat letting out soft mewls as your inner omega keens the name of the person it's claimed as its alpha.

‘Satoru’ ‘Satoru’ ‘Satoru’

You feel possessed as you come undone, back arching deliciously as his name keeps chanting like a war drum in your head.

Sweat beads off of your forehead and drips between the crevices of your cocoa skin as you come back to the world of the living. Your turtleneck is unfurled, slacks drenched in slick and release.

The business card is torn in your hand–damn near in tatters, yet you bring it back up to your nose.

Inhale, exhale.

“Haah… fuck.”

The warehouse is dark, save for a few broken spotlights dotted around the perimeter. It reeks of iron and must, sharp enough to make his eyes water. Hajime’s cyan hair is matted, blood dripping down his forehead and into his mouth as he shuffles in place, waiting for his opponent to make a move. Outside the ring, alphas and betas alike jeer and shout, yelling at them to get a move on.

“This blue haired bitch better win, my mortgage is riding on this…” He hears one grumble, “You think if I give enough they’ll let me have some time with him? He’s got a pretty face.” Another whistles, the others murmuring in agreement.

Hajime scoffs, spitting out the red liquid before closing the distance. Jab. Weave. Cross. The punch connects, eliciting a mixed wave of ohhs and groans across the spectators.

He hates it all. He hates how they force him to fight against alphas without scent patches, how the onlookers gaze at him hungrily after matches, how fighting is the only thing he has. 

Roll. Uppercut. Yells, louder this time echo off the walls as his opponent goes down, out cold as the referee declares him the winner.

He should feel happiness, joy that he won’t get beat by bettors or have to eat with a broken jaw for the next month, but all there is is emptiness. ‘This is my life’ He thinks to himself, moving towards the ropes.

Loud slams resound from around the warehouse, bright LEDs lighting up the floor. The crackling of an intercom fills his ears.

“POLICE! Everybody put your hands in the air!” Agents in tactical gear swarm in, holding everyone at gunpoint. Hajime stands frozen against the ropes, eyes darting around watching everyone scatter like ants. 

The adrenaline, once pumping through his veins, begins to wear off, scents registering and blooming in his olfactories, making his head spin. He doubles over, hands clutching over his mouth as he holds back from retching. Blood rushes through his ears, eyes watering as he takes shallow, choppy breaths. 

Hajime vaguely registers a hand being placed on his shoulder before he swats it away quickly, eyes darting up to meet a concerned police officer. “away..” “Sir, can you tell me your-” The officer tries to help him to his feet again “GO AWAY!” Hajime screams, curling up into a ball.

Even with his eyes closed, he feels the eyes on him, starting, scrutinizing. He feels lightheaded, cold flashes shooting through his limbs. ‘Fuck, ‘m gonna drop..’ He thinks, mind hazy.

“EMS on scene!” A smooth voice projects across the space. Mint Chocolate and Black Coffee—the scent, though faint, curls into his noise, calling to him like a siren song. Like a man possessed, he untucks his head, standing up straight before sprinting to the source.

You’re startled by the impact of something, or rather, someone against your chest, about to kindly remove them from you before you sense it. 

Saccharine—warm, pillowy waffles and decadent vanilla ice cream. You can taste it on your tongue. An ebony hand finds cyan hair, golden sparks fizzing around it as you stare in amazement.

“Omega?” You use your alpha voice instinctually, strong arms wrapping around your little mate. “M-Mate.. Alpha-” “Shh shh… I’m here.” You croon, pumping out enough pheromones to ward off people in a 5 foot radius. “Can you look up for me, hmm?” He obeys without question, shyly meeting your gaze. 

Your eyes lock onto the mess of blood on his head, then the scars, both new and old, across his body, and your demeanor becomes icy. “Who did this to my mate?” You snarl, (e/c) eyes glowing something vicious as you scan the crowd of apprehended suspects. 

You have half a mind to run over and slaughter all of them, but the meek voice of your omega reaches your ears.

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Please, just wanna go away..” Hajime begs, eyes glossy. Your eyes dart back to his, studying him once more. “Okay. I’ll get you someplace safe.” You pick him up, letting him wrap his legs around you. 

Your eyes meet the Police Captain on duty who had been watching the whole interaction go down. He gives a knowing nod, before returning to give orders to his officers.

“Itadori, you’re incident commander.” You command, glancing at the strawberry haired paramedic. “But lieutenant-” “I need to take care of my soulmate, Yuji. You can handle it.” You reassure, before walking off.

Hajime tucks his head into your neck, whining when nose meets scent patch. Fumbling with his hands, he peeks at you for help, and you take the department issued strips off, letting the full brunt of your pheromones wrap around him as you walk him out of that warehouse.

‘Warm…’ He thinks, letting you whisk him away to his future.

Hajime muses at the memory fondly. Despite it being during the darkest period of his life, he met you. He weaves a hand through his aqua tresses, finger pads tracing the mating bite on his nape. You sleep soundly underneath him, arms wrapped around him even in slumber. 

Moving up on your chest slightly, Hajime places a kiss to the durag on your head, then one to your nose, trailing downwards.

Nose, adam’s apple, chest, stomach…

A strong hand stops him before he can go any lower, Hajime peeking up to see your lidded, sleep-laden eyes.

“And good morning to you too, ‘jime.” Your voice is like a cheese grater, scratchy and filled with bass in the best way possible. You pull his smiling face closer, cupping his jaw as lips mold against each other. Hajime exhales softly into his alpha’s mouth, hands splayed across melanated skin. “Stay here, I'll wake our birthday girl up.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, sliding out from underneath him.

He watches your muscles flex as you stand up, flicking a piece of dust off of the silky on your head while you throw an undershirt and pair of sweats on. “Don’t leave me waiting too long~” Hajime teases, watching you walk out of the room and towards your pup’s.

Opening the door slowly, you pad over to sit on the edge of your now 18 year old’s bed. The rays of sunshine illuminate her light brown skin, curly cyan hair peeking out from underneath a bonnet. You smirk, poking her on the nose gently. Her face scrunches up, eyes cracking open to see you smiling down at her.

“Rise and shine my little thunderstorm, hope you didn’t forget what day it is.” You tease, moving to open the window shades fully. You hear a groan behind you as the natural light pours in, looking back to see she had covered herself with the comforter.

“Akarai… I guess these gifts ’ll just have to wait til’ next year~” You singsong, walking back over to the door. That gets her attention, sitting up in the bed fully now. “Don’t even think about it.” She pouts, walking over to you. 

“Happy birthday.” You place a kiss on her forehead, wrapping an arm around her. “Your dam is waiting for you so don’t take too long.” You say softly, releasing her and closing the door behind you.

When you come back to your room, Hajime is dressed for the day already, finishing the last of styling his hair in the ensuite mirror. “She’s getting ready.” You murmur, walking up behind him and laying your head on his shoulder. He gives you a peck on the cheek with a small thanks, checking himself over once more. “You get ready too, I’ll have breakfast made by the time you’re both done.” He chirps, winking at you through the mirror as he leaves the bathroom.

Leaving the durag on, you do your skincare routine, brushing your teeth while the face mask works on your pores. Once that’s all done, you move to the closet, replacing the undershirt with a beater and compression tee (under armour of course, you have standards), and walking out of the room.

Your hands trace the metal banister as you make your way downstairs to the kitchen, where you see Hajime preparing the last of breakfast. Sneaking up behind him, you gently grab his waist, kissin’ the mating bite. 

“Smells good. God, what’d I do to deserve you?” You mumble, huffing the impossibly sweet smell of waffles like a drug. “I could say the same, yer’ the second best thing that’s happened ta’ me~” He croons, tilting his head back to bring you into a kiss.

“Second? What could be better than your alpha?” You growl playfully, hands teasing his waist, sliding down to cup plush cheeks.

“That would be me. How about not being disgusting on my birthday?” Your daughter playfully pokes her tongue out, stepping into the kitchen.

You both freeze, turning your heads slowly to Akarai. A heavy blush blooms across Hajime’s face, before he whacks you on the head with the wooden spoon in his hand. “Oww..” You groan, holding your noggin’ as Hajime walks over his pup.

“My beautiful pup.. Where did tha’ time go?” He says wistfully, moving a strand of hair out of his pup’s face. “Happy birthday, my little lightning bolt. I made your favorite.”

“Papa…” Akarai tears up, swallowing their dam in a tight hug. “Why’re you cryin’? Yer’ gonna make me cry..” Hajime whispers, hugging back just as fiercely. You watch from the sidelines, eyes soft at the view.

“Cmon, lets eat. You need to be a big and strong alpha, right?” He releases Akarai slowly, walking over to the table where you’re placing the last dish down. Sliding the chairs out for both of them, they sit down and start eating.

Looking around at your happy family, your heart has never felt fuller. You bite into a piece of french toast, excited for the adventures you all would have today.