Work Text:
“Is it even fair for us to spare together, sensei?” A rambunctious voice reverberated around the silent training room, ringing in the elder sorcerer’s ear like an irritating earworm. The eccentric teenager teased with unadulterated confidence – his pretentious arrogance came natural to the young sorcerer, as though a birth right similar to his transcendental and divine like power that he alone harbored.
Gojo Satoru.
A second-year student at Jujutsu High, heir to the prestigious Gojo Clan and blessed with the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques – the first sorcerer from his family to inherit both devastatingly powerful abilities in four hundred years. To say he was the pride of the Gojo family would have been an understatement, he was the pride of Jujutsu society. Everyone worshipped the ground he walked on, every single one of his needs and desires, no matter how implausible or how unachievable, were attended to. He had everything he could ever desire.
Well… with one maddening exception.
“You’re so tiny and I weigh twice as much as you do, I don’t think it’s much of a fair fight.” Satoru strutted across the silent room, discarding his shaded glasses to properly admire the older sorcerer elegantly sat in front of him – Fushiguro Megumi.
Fushiguro Megumi was a former member of the acclaimed Zenin Clan; a special grade sorcerer that possessed the unique Ten Shadow Technique and was wildly known as one of most formidable and capable sorcerers from his generation. His strength wasn’t his sole source of idolization; his elegant and enrapturing appearance were also regarded with high praise and acclamation, as was his aphrodisiacal, omegan scent.
Fushiguro Megumi was an omega. An unmated, unclaimed Omega. His unconventional abstinence and solitude only amplified his allure and he was regarded as one the most coveted Omegas of their society.
“I think I’ll be fine, Satoru-san. And I’ll choose to ignore those comments for your sake and for my own.” Megumi lifted himself off the ground and dusted off his loose-fitting joggers; his over-sized shirt lazily fell off his shoulder, exposing a copious expanse of pure, porcelain skin, unblemished and unmarked. Satoru couldn’t draw his hungry eyes away from a tempting, tantalizing gland that protruded from the Omega’s neck – his scent gland, his taintless, undefiled scent gland.
Satoru hopelessly inhaled. Nothing.
Satoru couldn’t smell him. Satoru had never smelt him, incapable of doing so as he had yet to present.
Most adolescents presented during early pubescence – either condemned to endure an excruciating heat or an agonizing rut. Few and rare were the circumstances in which someone’s secondary gender never manifested, most cases were deemed an inexplicable phenomenon, uncommon. Yet, despite being gifted with immeasurable strength and prowess, blessed with revered allure and charisma, prophesied of becoming the most desirable Alpha of his generation by the elders of his Clan … the Universe had been cruel and deprived him of fulfilling his ultimate, long-time goal:
Becoming Fushiguro Megumi’s Alpha.
“You know I could never hurt you, Megumi-chan.” Faux melodrama and exuberance dripped from his tongue like toxic venom from a fang. He was enraged – submerged and drowned in a rampageous wave of poisonous possessiveness and murderous intent towards any and all Alphas that held the unmerited privilege of breathing in Megumi’s titillating aroma. He’d often have to repress the lust of spilling blood of repulsive Alphas that slobbered and panted like dogs, thirsting over his Omega’s scent – how had such pigs been gifted the honor of smelling him yet he, the prophesied god amongst men, couldn’t.
Satoru had been spoilt since the moment he’d been free from his mother’s womb. His every demand and command were responded to with utmost urgency and he had not a single request go disregarded. He’d never been denied. He’d never known unfulfillment nor rejection.
He’d never known unfulfillment nor rejection until Fushiguro Megumi entered his life.
He was an infant, just shy of six years of age, when he’d met the Omega. He’d been forced to accompany the Elders of his Clan to attend a diplomatic expedition with the Zenin Clan – a tedious, incomprehensible chore for the heir who had little interest in politic affairs nor strategic arrangements. He’d wondered off and had gotten lost in the unfamiliar territory, and then, like a seraphic mirage, the personification of beauty and grace, Fushiguro Megumi found the wandering child. His attraction for the Omega had been instantaneous. He wanted him. He needed him.
As he grew older, youthful infancy migrating into feverish adolescence, sweet puppy love metamorphosized into infatuated obsession, impassioned and resolute. His dream of claiming the Omega as his own was fueled by his expected Alphan presentation. He patiently waited for the tell-tale signs of an approaching rut, nevertheless, the day had never come for him.
Satoru had never experienced rapturous, libidinous sweetness; he’d only ever known the scent of Megumi’s shampoo, cologne and clothing detergent. A bittersweet tragedy that incited a heinous ill temper and indignation in the young shaman.
Though, today, his wrath for his unjust existence was kindled and inflamed by a carnal flame that had been simmering in his core since the moment he’d awoken; since dawn had broken his senses had been sharp, sensitive, strong; his emotions ran wild, feral, deranged. He felt warm, uncomfortable, restless.
“Hmph. Don’t act all high and mighty just because you’re the Six Eyes User – your hand-to-hand combat skills need practice.” Megumi approached Satoru, each movement elegant and graceful, capturing the teenager’s attention. The elder of the two prepared his defensive stance, rooted and secure to the ground, and lifted his fists near his gorgeous features.
And despite his irked demeanor, Satoru felt his lips twitch into a smirk and fought the urge to not laugh at the small man. Despite his effervescent derangement, Gojo mimicked Megumi’s posture and entertained him with fabricated seriousness – he could fold, bend and manhandle Megumi however he pleased; their power imbalance was great, their physiques opposed one another, he stood no chance against the younger sorcerer.
“Why should I concern myself with fighting when no one can even touch me – no one other than you, of course.” He emphasized his theatrical façade with an exaggerated wink, his tone was comical and light-hearted. His appearance contrasted his slipping awareness. He struggled to maintain alert and attentive, focused on suppressing a guttural, animalistic fervor burning through his skin; overpowered by his primitive subconscious, heightened senses, desires, lust.
What the fuck was happening?
The Six Eyes User was abruptly kicked in the shin, the sudden attack destabilizing his equilibrium and he fell gracelessly to the floor. He hadn’t time to recover from the red, hot pain that throbbed just above his foot, before his body was aggressively enveloped and pinned down by Megumi’s thin figure: lean legs wrapping tightly around his middle, whilst the Omega’s arms circled his head, securing the student in an unrelenting headlock.
“Hopefully, you’ll never find yourself in a situation where you’ll have to conserve and preserve your cursed energy. But if you ever do find yourself in such circumstances, you’ll be glad I taught you the basics of physical combat.” Megumi grunted through labored breaths from the exertion, sweat building at his brow, face slowly flushing into prurient pink.
Satoru was encompassed by Megumi’s essence; due to his intensified senses he could hear Megumi’s spiked heartbeat, rhythm steady and accelerated; he could feel his warm, soft skin just under his fingertips; he could practically taste the salty sweat that dripped from the other’s neck on the tip of his tongue.
His nostrils flared and he inhaled like a crazed animal.
He could smell him.
Instinct overrode logical sense – Satoru’s vision was clouded with heavy, intoxicating arousal, dilated pupils eclipsing his cerulean oceans. Hot fervor flowed through his veins, spreading through him like an infection, igniting him with a dizzying fever, corrupting him with vile vigor. His pulse quickened, violently hammering against his chest as though he had just run a marathon, the air surrounding the duo was thick, heavy and warm. He felt alive, rejuvenated, exhilarated.
“Satoru? Are you alright? Do you need me to stop?” He was so ravenous, starved – he craved Megumi, needed to consume him whole, ravage him and destroy him. He growled, deep and threatening, and bore his teeth, canines sharp and wild. “Satoru?”
With little struggle, he freed himself from the Omega’s grasp and switched their positions – pouncing atop the vulnerable and unprepared man. He mounted Megumi, comfortably lodging in between his spread legs, securing him to the matted ground. His nose probed flush against the Omega’s scent gland, stimulating it to leak more of it’s electrifying, aphrodisiacal fragrance.
He nearly came undone with just one whiff.
Nectarous, luscious, sweetness. It smelt of ripened peaches on a brilliant summer day, heavenly freshness coupled with delectable, mouth-watering ambrosia. It smelt of honey, rich yet mild, warm and homey. It smelt of comfort, familiarity, security, fertility. It smelt unlike anything Satoru had ever experienced before – it roused within him a longing, a want, a need that he’d never bore before; it made his mind hazy and hot, suddenly his clothes were too constrictive, his pants too tight against his now throbbing, hard cock.
“I can smell you.” Satoru groaned into Megumi’s thin neck, ragged and strangled, deep and sultry. His breath tickled Megumi’s skin and he squirmed away, though his efforts were fruitless, serving solely to encourage the crazed sorcerer to tighten his hold around his middle – brute and forceful enough that the Omega was certain his skin would later be imprinted with violent, violet bruises.
“You what?” Megumi stumbled and stuttered; hoping, praying that it was merely Satoru playing a distasteful prank on him. Satoru pressed his nosed closer to the delicious nub.
“Sweet peaches and honey.” Satoru inhaled deeply yet again and Megumi shuttered when the shaman arose and faced him: blissed out eyes glazed over with orgasmic content and pleasure, as though entranced, hypnotized. “You smell like sweet peaches and honey – you smell so good.”
Megumi’s forest-green eyes widened, unable to move, speak, breath. Chilling realization froze him paralyzed to the ground; fear stunning him where he laid, mind numb and anarchic, shrieking at him to scream, punch, run, escape away from the sorcerer. He wasn’t safe.
“You’re an alpha.” He managed to rasp out after a pregnant pause. His eyes observed as Satoru’s lips curled into an eerie, ominous grin, unnatural and unpleasant on Satoru’s handsome features.
Megumi gasped when the Alpha latched onto his neck, just above his scent gland, lapping at the feverish skin as though he had been cursed to eternal, unquenchable thirst. He dug his teeth into the sensitive flesh and sucked hard, enough to elicit an unwarranted moan from the frightened Omega.
The final string of rational morality severed, Satoru was now too far gone into the frenzied delirium and ardent arousal of his first rut.
The high-pitched cry edged the Alpha deeper into his hysterical fever – slowly mouthing at another area of flesh, painting the once untainted skin in different shades of vibrant vermillion and fierce fuchsia. Ruthless, painful, predatory.
“Stop, Satoru, stop!” Megumi wailed when the Alpha got alarmingly close to his scent gland, teeth scraping the erogenous bud. He felt a hard, distinctive pressure rub against his thigh. He bit his lip when he felt the Alpha grind on him, rolling his hips with abandon, seeking out pleasure and relief. He pushed against Satoru’s broad shoulders, tempting to prevent him from doing something irreversible, permanent.
“Satoru, listen to me, you need to let me go. You’re going through your first rut. You’re not coherent at the moment and you’ll end up doing something you’ll regret if you don’t let me go.” Megumi begged, desperate and urgent, hopeful that a semblance of his student would emerge from the fog of lustful euphoria.
“Regret?” Satoru growled out and the sound sent vibrations down Megumi’s spine, tingling him with forbidden excitement. A familiar warmth bloomed just under his skin. The Alpha dominated his pliable body, shoving off frantic hands and imprisoning them above the Omega’s head – thus dissolving any and all attempts of escape. He was entirely vulnerable and defenseless underneath the Alpha’s greedy gaze.
“Do you know how long I’ve dreamt of this moment?”
Megumi’s breath became erratic and quick – he was surrounded by Satoru, trapped beneath his weight and poisoned by his intoxicating scent. Musky, heavy, alphan. He smelt like rain and pinecone; he smelt of strength, dominance, control, superiority. He smelt of intense pheromones, sex, arousal and greed. He smelt of everything alluring and mind-numbing for an unmated Omegan – the promise of a hard fuck, a good breed and a potential mate.
“Sator-hmph!” Before Megumi could respond, soft lips clashed into his own. The kiss lacked tenderness, care, sentiment, it was lustful and frenzied. The newly-presented Alpha ravished Megumi, a disastrous dance between teeth, tongue and lips – he explored, took and claimed, saliva spilling from the corner of mouth, his tongue dipped and weaved against Megumi’s own, uncoordinated, sloppy and eager. It was harmonious mayhem, a slobbery mess of passionate mania.
Satoru kneaded and groped at full thighs, fingers digging into concealed flesh, wandering from the back of the Omega’s shaking knees, dragging over plush skin until he reached his inner thighs, massaging just above his clothed intimacy. The Alpha’s touch was sinful, immoral and exhilarating – long fingers rough and vigorous – goosebumps prickled the Omega’s fervent skin, now drenched in a thin layer of sweat, senses aflame and sharp. The fog was gradually obscuring Megumi’s cognizance.
The Omega gasped loudly into the Alpha’s mouth when Satoru bit down on his bottom lip just before breaking apart from their mind-numbing embrace with a thick, string of drool connecting their swollen, glistening mouths.
“Do you know how many years I desperately longed to present as an Alpha, just so I could claim you, breed you, mate you?” Panicked, pristine emerald shadows silently pleaded with blissed out indigo infinity.
Megumi was petrified. Not because his instincts were howling at him to run away from the imminent threat. But because those same instincts were progressively becoming more muffled and censored as time passed, subdued by the emerging heat that creeped closer and closer to surfacing. The Alpha’s pheromones and presence were corrupting him, poisoning him into forced submission.
Satoru’s rut would inflame him into an unexpected heat. He needed to act now.
"I'm your sensei, Satoru. We can’t do this.” He couldn’t recognize his own voice, hoarse and high-pitched, desperate.
"What does that matter to me, sensei?” Satoru laughed in Megumi’s face. “I’m the heir to the Gojo Clan, the strongest sorcerer alive and I’m now an Alpha. I can finally claim you, mark you and own you. I don’t care if you’re my sensei, my guardian, my enemy or my brother, you’re mine.”
“Listen, Satoru, we can do this the traditional way. You can court me and, eventually, once you’ve graduated then you can mate me and claim me as your Omega. This isn’t right, I don’t want this, please Satoru, listen to me.” Megumi attempted to bargain with the ludicrous Alpha – he felt his own sanity and poised rationality slipping away from him, the initial stages of his dazed heat threatening to possess him. He felt bitter tears build in his eyes.
“You think I need permission to claim you as my Omega?” No. “I’ve waited ten years, do you think I’ll stop now, right when I’m so close?” Crystalline tears cascaded down rose dusted cheeks, marking them with saddening, miserable stains – proof of Megumi’s withered resolve. No matter his wishes or desires, Satoru would do with him as he craved and in a matter of moments, Megumi’s own mind would be muddled with senseless amour and need, a slave to his own forced upon libidinous lust.
“I promise I won’t hurt you. I could never hurt my Omega.” Satoru admired Megumi’s bruised neck; once an empty canvas now shaded with a salacious palate of bright crimson and deep violet; abstract wounds were the perfect mold of the Alpha’s hungry lips and sharp canines. All that the picturesque marks lacked was Satoru’s signature – the final detail to complete his mangum opus, so everyone knew who it belonged to, who Megumi belonged to.
“Fuck-ah!” The Omega shrieked as Satoru punctured the raw skin that surrounded the Omega’s oversensitive scent gland, sharp teeth drawing metallic blood that mixed on the sorcerer’s tongue. The young prodigy sucked vigorously until the bite no longer throbbed with pain nor bled into his open mouth. He released the maimed skin with a loud pop and purred at his handywork, peppering feather-like kisses onto the possessive scar.
Above him he could overhear heart-wrenching sobs. His focus abandoned his claim mark and turned towards his distraught Omega, hiccupping and weeping. Their eyes met and though betrayal, horror and revolt pooled within the Ten Shadows User’s emerald gems, within them Satoru recognized desperation, want, need and lust similar to his own. Megumi was scarily close to crossing the border into untamable need and obedience.
“Do you have any idea what this means?” The Omega choked, cried and wiggled under the Alpha’s form though his will to fight and resolve to flee away from the Alpha were slowly extinguishing. Satoru pampered kisses from base of the Omega’s neck, towards his chin and plump cheeks, until he reached his teacher’s lips. The kiss contrasted with their prior embrace – it was slow, tender, sensual. Satoru smiled into Megumi’s parted mouth when he felt him shyly reciprocate the erogenous touch, pressing his lips against Satoru’s, seeking out his touch, parting his lips a little wider.
Megumi had fallen into his heat.
“You’re mine now. My omega, my mate, mine, finally.” He quickly pulled Megumi’s oversized sweater off of his frame, discarding the item into the shadows of the silent room. His lips descended onto untouched porcelain and he ravaged the virginal flesh with animalistic, predatory marks: on his prominent collarbones, around his pink, flushed nipples; he left a trail of tender, amorous kisses down his lean abdomen until he mouthed on an elastic waistband that clung tightly around the Omega’s hips, barricading the Alpha from advancing any further.
“Please, Satoru, please.” The whine sent shivers down the Alpha’s spine – vibrations electrifying him with thrilling arousal. His confined cock twitched and jumped at the pitiful sound. Satoru, delirious and deranged, ripped the obnoxious cloth right off Megumi’s legs, tossing the torn remains of comfy joggers towards an abandoned corner.
He permitted himself a moment to admire the man beneath him nearly nude with only a thin layer of tiny briefs shielding him from being entirely bare.
He was indescribable. Words failed the Alpha though he himself felt as no poet could adequately describe the sublime, sensuous and splendorous sight. Beautiful. Ethereal. Otherworldly. Perfect. Those words failed to capture the mesmerizing picture that laid before Satoru. Megumi’s form was tinted in a rose flush, pretty pink illuminating his pale skin with a stunning glow that resembled a incandescent sunset. His physique was strong yet lean, hard muscle veiled under a layer of plush fat that rounded out his hips and thighs, accentuating his impossibly thin waist that Satoru could circle entirely within his hands. Long legs stretched forever, elegant and poised, as they they’d been sculpted from the same divine marble as Aphrodite herself.
Satoru longed to ravage the man.
“You look so pretty like this. You’ve always been cute, but now, spread underneath me, you’re irresistible.” His fingers hooked under the Omega’s briefs and he pulled them down swiftly without hesitation.
Fuck.
Satoru salivated, overpowered with an abrupt, ravenous hunger. His eyes darted across the intimate image – erect, small, pretty and pink, Megumi twitched and quivered, precum leaking from his flushed, sensitive tip. The Alpha palmed at the neglected cock, thumb massaging the reddened gland and spread the viscous release. He reeled in the heavenly mewls and whimpers that escaped from his lover; Satoru was entranced by the pornographic visual and was possessed by the arousing bittersweet scent of precum infused with the overwhelming honey-sweet nectar of slick.
His sapphire eyes drifted further down and he failed to repress a deep, primitive grunt nor was he able to halt his hips from instinctually humping the air, tempting to seek relief from the obscene, sinful view lying just beneath him.
His eyes fixated on the abundant, overflowing slick that soiled Megumi’s inner thighs and pooled onto the cushioned mat underneath their bodies. It smelt of hot sex, primal pheromones, sensual eroticism, pure Omega essence – sickeningly sweet and mind-numbing, intoxicating and dangerous. It made Satoru’s eyes fog with exhilarating delirium and he dug his fingers into the sorcerer’s small ass, spreading it with vigor to better observe the Omega’s wet cunt.
“W-what are you doing?” Megumi squeaked, high pitched and strained. Quickly, he’d pressed his thighs together and his hands sheltered his cock from preying eyes, a fruitless attempt at preserving any semblance of privacy or intimacy. He looked up at the Alpha with large, blown out eyes – sparkling with a reflection of unspoken urges and desperation, scintillate and gorgeous - and pouted. Confronted with the image of the typically apathetic and serious shaman submitting and silently pleading for the Alpha, made Satoru laugh and take pity on the man.
He lifted himself off the timid Omega, permitting him a moment of faux freedom, and quickly stripped the constrictive clothes that had become too warm and troublesome against his igneous skin. The Alpha smirked, arrogant and prideful, when he’d caught Megumi gawking at his cock: mouth agape and jaw slack; eyes comically wide flashing with a glimmer of hungry greed, following Satoru’s every movement as he stroked his throbbing girth – red, hot and angry; precum dribbling from the tip and spilling onto the Alpha’s large hands as he nonchalantly relieved himself.
Satoru reveled in his Omega’s undivided attention and attraction and utilized his stunned state to his advantage.
Megumi’s stunned perplexation was disrupted by Satoru grasping onto his waist and manhandling his pliable body. He laid facing the ground, defenseless and vulnerable, ass exposed in the cool air. He felt a weight settle on his thighs and turned to face Satoru straddling him, calloused hands promptly kneading his lithe ass, touch electrifying and exhilarating, eliciting the Omega to gush more titillating slick – his body earnestly inviting the Alpha to claim, dominate, knot, breed, fuck. The Ten Shadow User mewled timidly and hid his face into the cool, matted ground, ears tinted cherry crimson whilst his whole body shivered from tantalizing anticipation.
“Why are you so nervous? Are you a virgin, Megumi-chan?” Satoru had intended for it to be a mere provocative jest, however, the silence that followed was deafening and revealing.
Satoru halted his wandering hands and fixated on the sorcerer, attentive and desirous of an untold truth. Withering with bitter humiliation, Megumi looked down at the stained carpet, elegant fingers clinging onto the rough fibers from the worn fabric with an unwavering grip; after a pregnant pause the flustered Omega nodded shyly. A villainous, vile grin spread across the Alpha’s features as his eyes darkened with possessive allure.
“You are. You just become more and more perfect for me Megumi-chan. It’s now my responsibility as your Alpha to make this a special memory for both of us!”
Satoru spread Megumi’s ass to reveal the unadulterated, undefiled blossom that had been promised just for him. He’d nearly came untouched for the second (possibly third) time that evening. Tight, flush, wet and slickened with syrupy lube: Megumi’s puckered rim impatiently awaited for Satoru’s touch, urging him to take, fuck, breed, claim, use and abuse. He gently circled and massaged the taunt ring, savoring and salivating as it shamelessly fluttered just from his fingertips lightly caressing over the sensitive, touch-starved cunt.
Satoru slickened his fingers with the abundant viscous slick that drenched the Omega’s skin and eagerly watched on with demented fascination as his finger breached the tight ring and slide into the Omega, offering no resistance to the foreign sensation, swallowing him greedily.
“Look how my finger just disappears into you, Megumi-chan!” Satoru lewdly exalted, utterly transfixed and spellbound as his finger buried itself entirely in the tight, velvety warmth. He trusted in and out, consumed with unparalleled euphoric blissfulness. “You’re holding me so tight, fuck!”
“Satoru, stop, don’t…” Megumi fussed, simultaneously degraded and aroused by the Alpha’s ceaseless and bashful praise.
“What part of being mine do you not understand, Megumi-chan?”
“Ngh-!” As quick as one finger had buried itself knuckles-deep into the dripping warmth, another followed suit and gradually worked him open, scissoring the sensitive hole accompanied by obscene squelches with every intense thrust and rapid pump. The muffled mewls and whimpers from the hysterical Omega in conjunction with the pornographic noises that echoed across the room were a heavenly choir in Satoru’s ears, motivating him to go faster, rougher, deeper, spilt him open further with his skillful fingers.
“You like it? You like when I’m stretching you so I can fit inside you?” He stuffed a third and final finger into the fevered Omega, that had now lost all coherency and sense. “Use your words, Gumi.”
“Y-yes, god, fuck yes!” Megumi cried out, lost and hysterical, feeling so full and satisfied, yet still not complete nor fulfilled. He yearned for something more, longed for more of his Alpha, needed more than just his fingers. “Want… want you…”
“Hm? Speak louder for your Alpha.” Satoru worked Megumi open and rutted his aching, engorged cock on the back of his teacher’s plump thigh – his insatiable appetite steadily shifted into uncontrollable urgency to knot and breed, satisfy his every desperate desire.
“Want you inside me, please…” Well, fuck. Fate, Destiny, the Gods or the Universe – whoever or whatever divine, celestial being that had blessed Satoru with Megumi, the Alpha would eternally be in their debt for endowing him with a perfect mate.
“What type of Alpha would I be if I were to deny my Omega?” The young Alpha pulled his slickened fingers out of the Omega that mourned the lost touch. He wrenched and quivered expectingly as Satoru aligned himself with Megumi’s prepped, leaking cunt – he teasingly pressed his pulsating cock against the stretched-out warmth and relished in the frustrated, impatient cries; inhaling deeply and closing his oceanic eyes, he breached the taut, tantalizing rim.
He felt as though he’d summoned his Domain Expansion – he felt as though he could see, hear, feel, sense, taste everything. Overwhelmed, overstimulated, overpowered. Consumed by impulses, instincts, emotions and sensations. He felt everything and nothing at the same time, simultaneously alert and disoriented. His only focus was Megumi. His only thoughts were Megumi.
He progressively sunk deeper, adrenaline and arousal controlling him, until his hips were flush with Megumi’s skin, entirely buried into the Omega.
“Fuck, you’re fucking tight, fucking hell! Feels amazing, so good.” The warm walls clenched firmly around him, securing him within the feverish heat, preventing him from pulling out – not that Satoru would ever pull out, too much of a mess of euphoric exhilaration to even fathom pulling out. He adjusted his position, his broad chest pressed against the small of Megumi’s back, one arm supporting his weight whilst the other embraced the whimpering mess underneath him – his hands tenderly whipping away the tears that stained his pretty face.
“Alpha- please, please.” He didn’t need to be told twice, bottoming out of the twitching hole and slamming his hips forwards with brutal force. The guttural groans and grunts coupled with the sound of skin slapping in tempo to the ruthless rhythm of the couple’s intense fucking reverberated through the room. Bittersweet aroma of passionate sex, sweat and musk swamped their senses, every inhale of the intoxicating pheromones smothered their conscious, the two men relying solely on pure instincts, affections and impulses.
Satoru fucked him with reckless abandon and Megumi, absorbed in his own heat induced submission, allowed himself to be used. The Alpha melded into him, pounding wildly, molding Megumi’s insides to fit perfectly around him, take him entirely, make him his own personal fuck toy. And Megumi allowed him to, too blissed out with maddening delirium to care, all his mind concerned himself with was the delicious heat that traveled from his toes of his curled feet to his neglected cock to the damp, locks on his head.
“Feel so full, so good.” He proclaimed with the little coherence he still maintained. Drool dribbled down his cheek, mouth permanently agape; tears cascaded from his blown-out eyes, green irises lost in dilated pupils; his face was flushed and hot, hair glued to his moist temple. “I’m clos- hm! I’m close, Alpha, please!”
Satoru kissed Megumi with impassioned recklessness; their lips clashed gracelessly and their embrace was disrupted by raspy, rugged groans, grunts and high-pitched and obscene moans that put porn actors to shame. Megumi scratched and clawed on the battered carpet that cushioned their disharmonious bodies, akin futile attempt at grounding himself from the mind-breaking fucking that destroyed every rational and cognitive thought that had once plagued his mind – now it was a barren oasis of lustful fantasies and dehumanizing hysteria.
The Alpha’s once controlled, steady and forceful rhythm deviated into frenzied, frantic, rapid slams – brutal and feral, powerful enough to hinder the Omega breathless. His own release was imminent.
“Cum for me, Megumi.” And not a second later, Megumi saw hot, white ecstasy. His eyes rolled back into his head, lips parting open with a muted scream, orgasmic shockwaves overcoming his overstimulated body, tremors rocking his exhausted body as he mindlessly arched his back into the Alpha’s sculpted chest. His neglected cock spilled onto the rough ground and soiled his chest and abdomen, twitching and bobbing, riding out the glorious high of climax.
His own orgasmic climax overrode him as Megumi sinfully squeezed around him, warm walls tightening and milking the Alpha’s spurting cock.
“Fuck!” His knot swelled and painfully stretched the tight ring of muscles, uniting their joint bodies in an unbreakable embrace. Satoru pumped Megumi full and as he calmed from his intoxicating high, he noticed that Megumi, now sober and alert, free of his heat-crazed delirium, wept and sobbed – cries immediately alarming the Alpha.
He forced the distressed sorcerer to look him in the eyes. He disregarded the horror, repugnance and rancor that reflected off of his mate’s bloodshot eyes. Instead he pampered his swollen mouth with a chaste kiss and grinned with joyous fulfillment.
“Why are you crying, Megumi-chan? You have no reason to cry. You did so well for me. We’re now mates, Megumi-chan. You’re mine now.”