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Man I Need - C.K.

Synopsis. The Scent Companionship Program is an all-inclusive, 100% satisfaction-guaranteed solution for the more…carnal needs of unpaired alphas and omegas. Just send a swatch of your scent! It also comes with compensation for your time, and a soft-spoken, 6’2 prime alpha who wants more than just your scent. He wants you.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!omega!reader, aIpha!Choso, OMEGAVERSE AU, heats, rúts, pheromones, falling in love, CEO!Choso, rags to riches, office gossip, tension, pánty-steaIing, he goes FÉRAL, oraI (fem rec.), pússydrúnk Choso, face-sítting, fíngering, spítting, matíng presses, riding, makeshift gágs (for him), first times (Choso’s), making it fit, tummy buIges, manhandIing, rough s, p talking, slight chokíng, implied marathon, overstím, headIocks, knots, matíng bites, getting together, happy ending.

Word count. 16.2k (woah??)

A/N. Think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written babygirls-

“Alright so- female omega, unpaired, heat passed last month-” The brown-haired woman rattles off as she helps you sit down on the examination bed, her clinical doctor’s coat flapping with each stride. You think you could make out the faint gleam of ‘Dr. Ieri Shoko’ on her coat pocket. “-healthy essence.”

“Yay?” You say, feeling slightly dazed inside the stark-white office that you’d been led to. It was more formal than you initially thought it’d be.

And Shoko nods seriously, “I’ll be swatching your pheromones now.” She cracks her rubber gloves, making you flinch, and holds up two round cotton pads. “Don’t worry. It won’t sting, but your scent glands might feel a bit sensitive.”

“I can handle it.” You grin - if not you, then the crisp ¥50,000 notes you’ll be handed after this could. Just a little longer…

As Shoko instructs you to release your strawberry smell, you wonder which lonely, rut-imminent alpha might be paired with your scent.

Just who would be your mate?

Then you immediately tamper that thought—hah! You must be kidding yourself; as if you’d be meeting your fated mate through this.

You let slip a slight chuckle out of sheer ridiculousness, which you instantly stifle after catching the slightly-concerned look on Shoko’s face (honestly, she looked like she was contemplating numerous other exams to conduct on you instead).

Shaking your head, you urge her to continue. Which she does so methodically: coating either side of your neck - where your scent glands were - with some scentless blue gel, placing both cotton pads on those spots, jotting down something on her clipboard whilst she waited.

You were likely her nth college student of the day, and she sighed like it was so.

You knew that most of the others in your department had already contributed their pheromones to this program - why wouldn’t they? It was perfect.

The hot-pink flyer had just shown up one day. Smack-bang in the middle of the campus bulletin. Surrounded by club notices and weekly warning about suppressors and a froth of students and teachers alike that crowded around the strange new addition to their familiar wall of words: THE SCENT COMPANIONSHIP PROGRAM—SEEKING SCENTS (ALPHAS AND OMEGAS WELCOME). ¥50,000 PER SWATCH.

It boasted itself as some revolutionary new form of pheromone therapy, a way for unpaired alphas and omegas to share their scents with each other. To match-make, almost. And during those times of need, the organization would provide those partners with batches of scent-doused clothes to ease them through their needy heats and ruts. Those days when even smelling a member of the other secondary gender would help with those carnal pangs n’ twitches.

Some people joined the program out of sheer good will, some with the desire that perhaps this will lead them to their ‘fated mate’ - those almost mythical Prince Charmings and Princesses and everyone in-between that was to be one’s soulmate. The other half of your heart, soul, body. Two scents in such perfect harmony that they became one.

Most did it for the money.

Honestly, you get it.

But it looked too good to be true—fifty-thousand yen? You’d cautiously waited a few days after noting down the number on the flyer, doing your own research (all the reviews online were raving, surely that was rigged?)

Before finally - finally - it’d taken your landlord hiking up the price of your already-shabby, already-overpriced apartment over some ‘fixes’ (nothing was fixed), your second-hand washing machine breaking down, your bus being late, and your favorite boyband going on hiatus for you to cave and dial that number.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

And so here you were - seated statue-still as Shoko finished counting down on her watch and removed the cotton pads. They were now layered thick with your pheromones, wafting, and she squeezed them gently into a sterilized test tube.

“That’s that. Thank you for your contribution to The Scent Companionship Program.” She stated, and tapped her clipboard - filled with what, you weren’t sure. “Your swatched pheromones will be sent to our labs and examined thoroughly before being scent-tested against the alphas that our findings determine to be the most suited for your scent- I see here that you have opted out of the choice to scent-test against alpha scents yourself, is that right?”

“Oh- yeah.” You say, buttoning up your shirt- honestly, you only half-remembered all those menial technical details on the mountain of forms you’d filled out.

Shoko hums, expectedly she asked these questions a lot. “Right, and you understand that this means you will not be choosing your own alpha? You won’t smell the alpha’s scent to test compatibility. However the alpha shall choose you based on their compatibility with your scent?”

“Ah…” Well, when she put it like that…However, deciding that re-filling out all those monstrous forms was far too much trouble than it was worth (after all, if you ended up disliking the scent of your partner, you could simply not use those clothes during your heat), you only smile sheepishly. “I ah- I trust you guys enough.”

“Well, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” You swear you could spot the beginnings of a smile on her deadpan face. “At Kamo Pharmaceuticals, we are the best of the best. And we’re proud to say we have a 99.99999% success rate in helping find suitable partners for both parties.”

“Wonderful.” You nod, as she finishes her recitation. Before fidgeting, “And about the uh-”

“The ¥50,000 will be handed to you at the reception.” Shoko smiles, knowingly. “You’ll be contacted in the coming weeks by one of our representatives regarding your scent match.”

And with that, she leads you fluidly out of her office. And just before you’re set to leave- “But, off the record-” You turn, somewhat surprised at her sudden conversation. “-do trust us. We really do excel in helping people find their perfect match. And who knows? Maybe it’ll be someone you don’t even expect.”

You smile, “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

But, really, you did wonder what sort of alpha would be paired with you.

.

“No- not for me.” Choso jerks back as fast as he’d leaned in, his nose crinkling with slight distaste. And then over the other tube, “Not this one, either.”

And he lets the bespectacled medical assistant pull away both vials of pheromones from underneath his nose, the seventh (maybe eight, maybe ninth, he’d lost count) scent that he was testing just today itself - and, yet again, it wasn’t a match.

No matter what their research told them.

Shoko sighs tiredly and looks down at her clipboard, and Choso thinks he could hear the familiar scritch-scratch of her crossing out yet another prospective match.

It’d been like this ever since they established The Scent Companionship Program.

His father, Itadori Jin, had insisted on his eldest son being one amongst the many contributors to it. Patient Zero—‘How can we expect our customers to trust our product if even we don’t trust our product’ he’d said. And Choso had thought that it was a fair enough argument.

At first.

He just didn’t think he’d end up being the 0.00001% that hadn’t found his perfect scent match yet.

Patient Zero and still hopelessly inflicted- he was starting to think he didn’t even have a match. Maybe his secondary gender was too picky, maybe it has something to do with him being a prime alpha (just the slightest step above your average alpha, said to be more dominant, apparently destined to be alone with the way that things were going).

But honestly, Choso didn’t even need someone else’s scent to get through his ruts - they weren’t even that strong!

But, alas, he knew that his father would be bouncing in his seat by the next family get-together. Asking him how his scent-testing has been going so far. Tutting with that disappointed look on his face if he ever said that he’d given up on it. Mumbling something about grandkids and ‘oh woe is me’ and- you get the point.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

And though it killed Choso to take even half an hour off of work to test omega scents, he still did it anyway. Leaned back against Shoko’s examination chair, he grumbles. “Honestly, at this rate I’m never going to find a match, Shoko. We might as well give up…”

“What- and have your father storm my office like last time?”

Dammit, it was worth a shot.

So Choso settles himself without (much) complaint as Ijichi reaches inside the cooler of vials once more. His gloved hand picks out what seemed to be the last of the bunch, a tiny concentration of colorless perfume at the bottom of it, an unreadable name tag at the top. “W-with this we’re done for today, Mr. Kamo.” The jumpy man says; even after a near-year spent in close proximity to him, scent-testing every day like clockwork, the assistant still was anxious around the young CEO.

Biting back a grin, Choso nods. It was going to be a trial like any other, like the countless before it.

Ijichi would flash a cautiously hopeful grin and uncork the glass tube, he would then let the pheromones waft for a few seconds, before bringing it under his boss’s nose. And then it would get sniffed, winced, and rejected in just a few seconds. Except—

Except that doesn’t happen this time.

In fact- it doesn’t even begin to happen. Because Ijichi struggles ever-so-slightly with the tight lid, finally managing to squeeze open the vial just the barest crack. The smallest.

And Choso Kamo felt like he’d just been struck by lightning.

He gasps. He closes his eyes. Then immediately snaps them open again just so he could heave in that refreshing scent pouring out of the vial like a whirlwind. A summer’s day. A beaming sun. A valley of strawberries. The ripeness of the fruit. The sweetness whence you bite into it.

And he was swept up in it with every whiff.

Choso’s large, clammy palm opens up and grasps the sugary air as if to hold onto something - to hold onto you. And he’s feeling the cold floor before he realizes it- he’d stumbled towards the pheromone swatch, knees weak, body moving before his mind.

Shoko’s at his side in an instant, “What is it? Do you feel something? Could this be-” Her breath hitches. “-could this be the one?”

Choso wants to shake his head - no, it’s just a fluke, it’s just his fatigue from overworking, it’s just—but he knew it. His body knew it. And every single fiber of his being would rather have him pass out right then, right there, than deny the obvious effect that this scent had on him.

It was calling to him.

The alpha’s chest vibrates, and he reaches out one trembling hand in the general direction of Ijichi. A low growl escaping from him- Choso can’t even control it, some primal part of himself had to make his point clear.

That vial of pheromones: he wanted it. Now.

The other man yelps, urgently moving to hand him the tube-

“No-” Shoko interrupts, and she waves off the black-haired man. Before turning back to her boss, “I’m afraid we can’t give it to you when you’re in this state, Mr. Kamo. You’re-”

“Give it to me.”

She shudders. Despite the two of them being betas, unaffected by most pheromones, a prime alpha still had that instinctual superiority. That dominance. That voice.

And she almost has half the mind to reach over and give him that vial herself, before she slaps herself out of it. Holding onto Choso’s broad shoulders as if to shake him out of it, too– “Listen- Choso, listen to me.” She mutters in alarm, “We can’t give you the vial when you’re in this state.”

“Give it to me.”

“Don’t you understand?” She shares a look with Ijichi, who’d come to the very same realization that she had. And the man gasps. “You’re in the early stages of rut-”

Choso jolts.

Rut? Now? Here? Like this? He blinks his bleary vision back into focus, it’s as if the office room was spinning. And it takes him a few seconds to raise his nose in the air and sniff - Ijichi had quickly closed the test tube at this point - to recognize the soft, vanilla-like smell of his own scent gusting out. It’s never been this strong before.

This needy.

Never.

And it was way before his schedule, too. He wasn’t due for another few weeks - did your mere scent throw him into rut?

Choso clutches onto the collar of his suit like a lifeline, loosening his tie- fuck, his entire body felt like it was sizzling in the aftermath of your pheromones. Though with your fragrance now safely locked away once more, he could feel himself cooling more or less back into normalcy.

Taking the time to gulp back the saliva rapidly filling up his mouth, he somehow manages to strangle out. “Who- haaah, who is it?”

And then Ijichi stutters out a name.

Such a beautiful, beautiful name. And Shoko’s eyes seem to widen in slight recognition.

“Arrange a meeting for me immediately.” He declares, taken aback himself by how demanding he was being. Choso Kamo was never quite dominant for an alpha. Was never quite a go-getter like the way most others his secondary gender was.

But right now he felt wound up. Fit to burst.

And Shoko nods agreeably, “It would be best for both parties if we do so before your upcoming rut - which seems to be quite soon. That was a close call.” She turns to Ijichi, “Please notify the communications department- stat.”

“O-on it.”

There’s the slamming of a door, and it sounds like it’s from miles away. The only thing that Choso could focus on right now was the faint traces of your scent that lingered in the room, like a memory. An after-image. The existence of you, in all your reality.

Were you the one he’d been waiting for?

He huffs out a chuckle to himself, “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

And though the question wasn’t for her, Shoko nods anyway.

But he thinks he could see, from the edge of his still-blurred peripheral vision, that she was smiling.

.

You know, at first you thought you were being arrested for something.

The group of suit-clad men had showed up at your doorway the first thing in the morning. So large that they filled out the entire frame, and you felt locked inside despite having the front door wide open. They briefly confirmed your identity, after which you were informed that they were part of The Scent Companionship Program and a meeting had been arranged for you to meet your paired partner today.

“I- I thought they were going to call me?” You’d questioned after getting yourself refreshed and ready. Pulling on the comfiest sweater you could find, you balk at the Herculean group that led you out of your apartment and into the corridor. The narrow hallway felt even stuffier with this group of betas surrounding your every side, like some unsolicited band of bodyguards.

“Circumstances have changed.” One of them answered, holding the building door open for you. It almost felt good, you can’t lie - like a celebrity with your own personal escorts.

Pushing aside obstacles for you, leading you carefully down the stone steps of your apartment and into a damn limousine parked outside.

Even the doormen themselves were gaping openly at the vehicle - this part of town was usually never graced with such luxurious cards. All black with tinted windows. Gleaming like a star. A badge on the front bumper that you didn’t have the time to scrutinize properly, yet seemed to be in the shape of Kamo Pharmaceuticals logo.

There was an official air around the limousine, even more so than a usual one, and you admired the plush, cream-colored interior as you got inside. The escorts followed, forming a protective circle around you- “So…I presume I won’t be getting any hints about who my match is any time soon?” You attempt to lighten the mood.

And a few of them actually nod, “We’re afraid not, madam.”

“But rest assured-” One of them half-smiles, “-you won’t be disappointed.”

A part of you sure hoped you wouldn’t be. And by the crackle of excitement in the air, you doubted you would.

It was a quick ride to the organization building, it’s as if the traffic parted for the car, and you weren’t quite sure why. After being escorted out and checking in at the reception, you’d expected to be led back to the same clinical office you had been in last time.

But instead, the bodyguards (could you call them that now? They certainly felt as such) punched in the button for the highest floor on the elevator. And you quickly found yourself in a rich meeting room, on opposite ends of a dark mahogany table with a man.

An alpha.

And even from here, you could smell the faint whiffs of his deep scent, kept under wraps of his suit collar. Just the faintest traces - they told you he wasn’t just any alpha. He was a prime alpha.

Though, he certainly didn’t give the impression at first glance.

Sure, he had an imposing frame - his suit snugly outlining his well-built shoulders, his trim waist, and the way that his biceps flexed each n’ every time he clenched his fist. In tension, perhaps? Or worry? He certainly looked worried: dark brows furrowed, plump lips worried under his teeth.

It was obvious that he was someone important. And honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever seen an alpha that looked so pretty.

So, so pretty.

There was a certain delicacy in his features. Sharp but fragile. Lashes enviously long. Doey eyes turned downwards. He fidgeted with the curls at the end of his long hair, reaching past his shoulders in the glossiest chocolate color.

Practically jumping out of his seat once the personal assistant (his younger brother, actually, Eso) behind him clears his throat-

“Oh-” Choso snaps his head behind, as if remembering where he was. He’d brought Eso with him for moral support- fuck, he could barely even look you in the eyes once you entered the room. Just knowing he won’t be able to rip them away.

And as the other man urges him to go on, Choso clears his throat finally - finally - staring at you head-on. “Forgive my rudeness, today’s just been…a lot, you know?”

“Tell me about it.” You faintly chuckle, and he thinks it’s the most beautiful melody he’s ever heard. Choso had been careful to wear two round bandages over his glands - scent suppressors - before meeting you, just knowing he’d be going out of control otherwise.

You introduce yourself and he does the same- “Choso Kamo. Please just call me ‘Choso.’”

“Kamo?” Your eyes bulged, and you tried not to sound too rude. “Kamo Kamo? Like- Kamo Pharmaceuticals Kamo?”

He cracked a grin, “Well- yes. One of my own personal endeavors. I always did love the medical factor, though I majored in business.”

Oh damn. “I- I see.”

“And what about you?”

“Ah, just in college. Trying to get that degree.” You explain a little about your own major, and he listens with such rapt attention that one might think you were telling him the truths of the universe. “It’s actually on campus that I saw a flyer for the program, I just never expected I’d be meeting you so soon.”

His eyes twinkle, “And I never expected I’d be meeting you.”

Silence falls. With the two of you shyly attempting to drink in the other’s appearance, the other’s scent, without making it seem as if you were doing so.

Though it was apparently more than obvious Eso who just had a way of melting into the background, making himself known whenever things had to be hurried along.

“A-hem—”

“So-” Choso starts, “About the ah- program.” And instantly you’re at attention, leaning forwards despite the fact that his low voice carried over to where you were sitting. “To be quite frank with you, I never expected to meet my match.”

You nod, as if in understanding.

“And I have to tell you that my rut will be starting soon.”

“Oh.”

He looks at you, intently. “Very, very soon.”

“Oh.”

Choso runs a hand through his hair, “Honestly, I fear that if I’m inside this room for a second longer, I might just start my rut right now.” But he hastens to explain- “Don’t worry- I have my brother here for that very reason, you’re safe here.”

And you ask, “So…how ah- long does your rut usually last? I’m aware that I have to keep providing you with pheromone samples as long as it does.”

He looks at you squarely, “Ten days.”

You balk—ten days? Most normal alphas lasted four days, maybe five. And if it was a prime alpha then they might just last a week - but ten days? Oh, you almost started feeling sorry for whoever was fated to be with Choso Kamo- before you promptly remembered that he was unpaired, and that you were the one he was scent-matched with.

It didn’t meet you were fated to be together, but still…

Choso squirms slightly at your open-mouthed silence, “Yes, I’m aware that it’s slightly erm- above average.” That was putting it lightly. “But trust that I will not overwork you, or overstep, and that you’re free to opt out any second you want to - just say the word.”

You nod, still slightly hesitant.

“And I promise that you will be compensated for every single day.” He beckons over Eso, and hands him a slip of paper - which his assistant walks over to hand to you.

And if your mouth was open earlier, then it practically unhinges at the paper - the cheque - that Choso breezily gave you. The sheer amount of zeroes. The sheer amount in general that might just be the biggest number you’ve seen on a cheque in your entire life—

“Oh- don’t worry, that’s just the advance.” Choso says, taking your silence for dissatisfaction.

“No no-” You hurry to explain, “It’s more than enough. Honestly, I can’t even accept this- please take it back and I can-”

“Please. Take it.” He firmly denies. Before a sudden blush takes over his face, and you watch in awe as the ruby-red rouge dusts over the tips of his ears, down to his high cheekbones, and then down the back of his neck. And he gingerly scratches behind it- “If possible- and- and only if you’d want, could I have ah…” He points somewhere at your figure.

“My…” You point at your chest, before realizing and tugging at your sweater. “Oh, this?”

Nodding you stand to give it to him, but Choso’s brother hastily stops you to hand it over to him himself. Realizing the effect that you had on his older brother.

The way he’d all but shatter if he got too close.

And Choso has to fight not to bury his face in the sweater the moment it’s handed to him. Thanking you fervently, “You’re helping me- so much.” He peeks at you through his long lashes. “So much more than you know.”

.

FIRST DAY OF RUT.

Expectedly, Choso had been thrown into his rut sooner than expected. In fact- the very second that you’d left the meeting room, and he’d gotten a chance to bury his face in your strawberry-sweet scent.

The very instant.

Your contacts had been exchanged, and you got a text from him soon after about meeting up the next day. Quickly arranging for your next exchanging spot to be in his office, where there were enough of his employees around so that Choso would be less inclined to make a fool of himself (it seems that even a rut couldn’t stop the young CEO from sticking to his workaholic schedule, and when you’d expressed concern in your texts, he simply told you that he wasn’t as affected by it, this was routine for him, a minor inconvenience).

You walked through the steely building, reminiscent of where you’d gone to get your pheromones swatched for the program.

“Hey there-” You say to the receptionist as you enter, and a few employees stare at you as they pass, an unfamiliar face in their lobby. “I’m here to meet Choso? Choso Kamo?”

She eyes you up and down, “Hah! Nice try, was this set up by that uncle of his?”

“No?”

“Oh- his father, maybe?”

“No? Not him either.” You sigh, holding up the bag of another one of your sweaters, and a scarf too - all doused with your pheromones, wafting. “Look, I’m just here to hand off a few things he needs. I’ll be in and out- you can even call him to confirm, so please, if you could help me.”

She takes one look inside the bag and sniffs, “Okay now I know you’ve been put up to this by that damn uncle of his-”

“I haven’t been put up to this by anyone but Choso himself-” You hiss, feeling the frustration bubble up in your body.

And the receptionist had far gone from skepticism to irritation now, she stares you down as she picks up the handheld telephone on her desk. Presumably to call security, what with the way she was eyeing you, and you almost contemplate walking out of this building right now and forgetting you were ever part of a stupid scent program in the first place before-

A call of your name.

“Choso!” You whip around with relief. You find the very man standing a fair distance away from you in the lobby- it seems he’d just gotten out of the now-closing elevator.

His projected voice had every eye downstairs on the two of you now - who knew their soft-spoken boss could raise his voice like that? And look so melty, so shy like that? Just who were you?

They snapped their heads as if watching a tennis match as the two of you raise your arms in greeting, and walk to each other. A short distance before stopping- and Choso quickly puts on a white mask designed specifically to block out pheromones.

And it killed him, oh it killed him to watch Eso close the gap with you instead. To watch you smile at him as you handed over the bag, to nod at something in conversation as he gave you a cheque-

“Choso.”

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the very sound of his brother’s voice, and only then does Choso realize that he’d been growling. Canines bared. Face snarled.

At none other than the fact that his brother was interacting with you where he couldn’t lest he lose control—fuck, this year’s rut really was driving him crazy. And Choso shakes his head to clear his mind, which only partly works with the way you were smiling at him patiently.

He still felt giddy, and cups his mouth through the mask. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” You call back, making your way out of the building now. And he watches you through every single step, until you were nothing but a speck in the horizon, and even then he watches as you vanish. As if you were never there, other than the weight of the bag that was being pushed into his hands—

“You’re fucked, bro.” Eso snickers.

“I know.” Choso replies, looking down inside. And even with the mask on, the softly sweet scent of your pheromones reaches him, cools down his body, makes him sigh. “Oh, don’t I know.”

.

SECOND DAY OF RUT.

THIRD DAY OF RUT.

FOURTH DAY OF RUT.

The first two days of Choso’s rut had proceeded exactly as the first one had. It was methodical, almost; arrive at the reception, be greeted by Eso (and Choso, from a distance), hand over the bag of clothes you’d scented with your glands just earlier, and get handed a fat cheque in return.

It was easy, really. And you almost began to wonder whether this was how the rest of the ten days would carry out.

But oh—oh, you should have known better than to think that the universe would make it so easy for you. As if you were getting off that easy.

On the fourth day of stepping inside the lobby area (the receptionist had grown used to you by now, half-believing that you really weren’t some prank set up by Choso’s infamous uncle) your phone vibrated with a new message - one from Choso that told you to come up to his office this time, it seemed that he was overloaded with work, and Eso had called in sick today.

And with no one else close enough to him that was available to trust with your scent swatches, he had no choice but to meet you himself. In his office. A confined space. All alone.

Choso was practically ripping at his hair, wondering what he’d just done, when the stand-in for Eso knocked at his door and said there was someone to meet him.

“L-let her in.” He barely squeaked out, straightening up immediately.

And you yourself were raging with an internal battle - everyone in the office seemed to know you. At least, they seemed to know of you.

They balked once those elevator doors had pinged open, and you stepped out. Then started the stares. Then started the whispers.

‘Wait- wait, is that really the one? So Linda from reception really wasn’t lying- oh, she’s more gorgeous than she said.’

‘This is the boss’s beau? You know, I thought he was celebate but they say she gives him a bag of her more…scandalous attire every morning to the boss as a pick-me-up.’

‘Really? I heard that she’s why the boss has been spending more time cooped up in his office- yes, they’re planning to elope to Switzerland, some sort of luxury ski resort wedding. I don’t think his uncle Sukuna’s invited, no-’

Your skin prickled with embarrassment and bewilderment as you made your way through the throng of gossiping employees. They parted for you, and it almost felt like walking down the aisle.

Straight to the largest office of them all: Choso’s.

Who was waiting for you impatiently- “Ah-” He flinched as you entered, looking around urgently for his mask before- oh, fuck, he realized. Eso had the entire pack with him.

And Choso could do nothing but knit his hands together on top of his table, right beside the flashing gold nameplate of ‘CEO CHOSO KAMO’. His heart thundered, and his fingertips shook ever-so-slightly as he gestured to the seat in front of him. “P-please.”

“Oh! Thank you, but it’s okay.” You wave off, “I’m really just here to give you ah- this-”

You push the bag into his arms, and you swear both your bodies are zapped with something electric as your fingertips brushed while handing over. Your breath caught- you’d never seen him this close before.

And Choso Kamo was even prettier then.

Still seated, he stared up at you with sparkling eyes - something like awe in them. Something like adoration. And those plush, pink lips of his parted—

Before he immediately took in a whiff of your saccharine scent and blushed.

Turning away immediately, “Th-thank you.” He busied himself opening and closing his desk drawers, searching furiously for something inside. “Now let me just get your-”

“No no, it’s okay.” You insist, “You’ve been compensating more than you should, honestly. And the program isn’t supposed to have you pay like this-”

“I do it because I want to.” He stares up at you once more. Shorter this time. Breathy. Like this mere contact with you had him worked up like he just ran a mile.

And as you’re distracted by the spikes of gold in his hazel irises, Choso pushes a cheque into your palm. “For you.” Before he stands up, and oh—you almost have to stumble back. Because you knew that he was tall by his frame, but ah, was he tall. So well built that it didn’t matter what your own height was, he still managed to make you feel small. “Let me escort you out- with your scent so saturated in here, I might just go insane. And I don’t have Eso around this time so, hah…”

But it didn’t sound like much of a joke.

You languidly walk to the towering door of his office, the whispering chaos of outside still sibilating. It felt like a world away.

He reaches for the door, “Let me just-”

“Oh no, I can-”

Several things happen at once. Choso angles his sculptured body to open the door for you, you’d already been aiming to open the door for yourself. Thus, with his well-timed equation, what ended up happening instead was that you’re pinned against the door.

Both your hands on top of the frigid handle. Choso’s leaned-in body looming against yours. Both of your chests bumping against each other- he hoped you wouldn’t be able to make out the pounding mess of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump–!

Your own heart stutters, and something about this heated proximity made you feel slightly dizzy. Slightly drunk on his presence.

And, moving on instinct, you tilt your head into where the curve of his pale neck was. Prominent Adam’s apple of his bobbing. Ready to just inch in - just inch in - and sniff the scent simmering under his collar—

Before you realize just what you’re doing and stumble backwards.

Startling Choso’s hand off of the door handle - that tense moment from before was in fragments now. “I uh-” Your eyes glance to the door, “-thank you for leading me out, I can make my own way from here.” And you make to bow- what? You make to wave, you make to stammer out your goodbyes before you can kiss him goodbye- stop thinking like that.

In a few seconds, you’ve flung open the door. Pacing right outside, “Just text me when you need me next!” Calling out over your shoulder, even though that likely calls more attention to your pairing. You leave Choso Kamo standing at his doorway, dazed, as you leave.

Though a part of you wanted to go back…

No- you maze through the walls of peeking employees, barely even noticing who you have to dart around to get to the safety of the elevator.

Though, if you had, you might have recognized a certain pink-haired, middle-aged man from all those business magazines at the convenience store that you’d pick up but ultimately never read.

Staring at you through his glasses- and then immediately to his flustered son still standing outside his office.

Itadori Jin murmurs, emotions unreadable. “An omega. Leaving my son’s office. On office hours while everyone else is working-” He flares his nostrils to smell the air: the boredom of work, the anticipation of hot gossip, the excitement, the nervousness, the need.

Jin could smell your strawberry pheromones, and the creamy vanilla aftertaste of his son’s trailing after yours. As if in pursuit. “-he’s having a scandalous dalliance. Why- my own son, my own successor- I’ve never been so- so-”

Choso strides over to Jin and attempts to calm him down, “Dad, I can explain. I was just-”

“-proud.”

The younger man gapes, “What?”

“I am so proud of you, my son.” His father claps him on the back, “Why- I thought the day would never come, I thought you’d end up single forever like that ol’ brother of mine. So the program worked? So you aren’t completely maidenless, like all the kids say these days. Yuji taught me that, and oh- he’s going to be so happy for-”

“Dad. Please. Stop talking.”

.

FIFTH DAY OF RUT.

SIXTH DAY OF RUT.

“Y’know-” You start off, inside Choso Kamo’s office for the third time since you started helping him with his rut. Though - unlike that first time - he now had a mask on, and Eso stationed steadily behind him after his brief leave.

And as Choso raises a brow, urging you to continue, you flick your gaze to the wall of his office with a chuckle. “-you really should consider getting blinds or something.”

All three of you look at the faces pressed against the glass wall of his office, tinted; though that didn’t stop the most determined of employees from trying to pry into their boss’s personal life (you didn’t dare call it his love life, though you knew the rest of this office did. This was business, just business). And they wave excitedly as they feel the stares on them, friendly enough that you really couldn’t say a bad word against them.

Choso catches the action and sighs, “I know.” And he takes the bag from you, but doesn’t open it for everyone’s safety. “I have considered it but ah- nothing yet, as you can see.”

“Forgive me for interrupting, brother-” Eso coughs his way into the conversation, “-but might I suggest an alternative meeting spot for the two of you? One that is more private?”

His older brother grumbles, “Eso, don’t start-”

“Oh, that might be appreciated, actually.” You voice your own opinion - sure, the office was nice, and you’d even made acquaintances with some of the employees. But the gossip and constant asking for a wedding invitation did get a bit much sometimes (not to mention the increasingly odd hours you kept arranging your meetings, all in an attempt to avoid Choso’s bustling father who’d been insisting on meeting you). “Where?”

Eso smirks, “His penthouse, of course.”

Your stomach drops.

Choso’s mouth drops.

And the both of you protest out something that gets drowned out in each other, and the personal assistant’s indifferent continuation.

“It’s quite private. No neighbors peeking in, given the floor, and as much space as you need to keep a distance while you exchange your…things.” How practical. Even you found yourself nodding along as you listened, “And, best of all-” He points outside, “-no Itadori Jin.”

Oh shit-

You snap your head behind you, and through the heavy tint of the glass you could spot a familiar head of coral-pink hair stepping out of the elevator.

You’re immediately rushed to the door—“I uh- I’ll text you.” A hopeful grin on your face.

“I’ll be waiting.” And Choso smiles, softly, before a familiar coo of his name echoes from across the office. And he’s hurrying to help you escape through another one of the elevators in the back of the building.

As you wave goodbye with haste, Choso tugs on his expensive silk tie to loosen it. You always did leave him hot under the collar (literally). The rut was more bearable when he had those articles of your pheromones to go home to, to hold them up to his face, to sniff deeply as he let his hand slip underneath the hem of his sweatpants.

And usually that was enough.

Prime alphas had more control over their secondary gender. But as the days passed, and the ending of his session grew nearer, the tolerable fever of his rut kept turning more into a bonfire, a forest fire. It’s as if his body was fighting to let those animal urges grow stronger.

Needier.

Like it knew he had you so close…so why couldn’t he have you?

He wanted you.

He needed you.

And it wasn’t just because of his rut, these past few days a part of him ached for you and he didn’t understand why. Your scent, your smile, the soft rolls of your eyes as you bickered with him. He wanted it all.

Choso wonders whether it really would be better to have you come to his penthouse, instead - at least that would make it more convenient for you. You wouldn’t have to rush out of there like you did any time you came to his office.

Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

In fact, he wanted you to-

And then it hits him.

He liked you.

.

SEVENTH DAY OF RUT.

You pressed the buzzer on the tall, black door. Barely even believing that you were allowed in here - you felt so out of place.

The building that Choso’s penthouse was situated in was one of those massive, high-rise ones that seemed expensive to even look at let alone be escorted to (yes, in the limousine once again). Gleaming windows. Gilded doors. The concierges bowed at you as you passed, and you were showered in complimentary drinks and towels before you even walked into the elevator (that, too, was gilded).

Ultimately, when you finally had arrived at Choso’s penthouse (he had the whole top floor to himself, a button on the elevator just for him), you were antsy before you made your presence known.

You’d texted him about arriving at the building, and was yet to receive a reply- strange. He always replied instantly, as if he really was waiting beside his phone for your message like he said.

But you didn’t think too hard about it, perhaps he just didn’t deem it necessary to respond when you were so close. And would instead just open the door and let you hand off the bag of pheromones like you were supposed to—click!

Ah, there he was. Slowly - agonizingly slowly - the door started opening, and you straightened up where you stood. A smile on your face, and a few words on the tip of your tongue about how fancy of a place it-

You’re in his arms immediately.

Burning hot skin. A needy layer of sweat.

Choso crushes you to his toned, shirtless body like he was adrift at sea and you were the only anchor keeping him above water. Above the storm. And he pants out against the crook of your neck like that was exactly the case.

Like he could finally breathe for the first time in years.

And all he wanted to do was heave in your sweet, sweet scent.

“You.” Raspy. Lower than usual. You swear you feel goosebumps go down your spine the very second you hear his voice. “You’re here-”

“Ch-Choso-” You gasp, feeling your head spin.

“Please.” He seethes, and something in your body twinges. Something primal. “Please- I want you.”

You’re so in shock that you barely even register anything other than him and his arms and his abs and him, him, him.

All around you. Choso was just so strong that the parts of your waist where he wrapped his arms around you began to ache. Where his canines began to prick skin, hovering just above your scent glands and oh- you knew you should move.

You knew you should step away.

But some part of you wanted to melt into the touch.

And in some tiny, unfocused part of your brain the slight pain registers with only one word: vanilla cream. The faintest whiff of it. You gasp, “Choso what happened-”

“Brother!” Eso’s familiar voice echoes out from inside the penthouse. And before long, you see his worried face appear to hold onto Choso’s broad shoulders. “Oh my goodness, I go to the bathroom for two minutes and- oh, you’re not hurt or anything, are you?”

“No, not at all.” You shake your head, your own arms coming up to replace the warmth of Choso’s as he’s pulled away. Somehow…it felt like a part of you was missing. “He was just cuddly.”

“Oh well, he’s been trying to claw my face off all morning.” Eso grumbles, and continues at your questioning look. “We’re not quite sure what happened. The rut seemed to have hit him particularly hard today, and this has never happened before. You know, today he took his first day off of work in years- his first ever since he joined the company.”

“Seriously?”

Affirming, “Seriously. Most alphas need to take them, that’s what a rut is- but Choso has never quite been like that lot. So to see him like this…”

“I understand.” And it really was a stark contrast to the way he was the last time you saw him. Choso was now pulled more or less inside his home now, turned away from you - as if to spare himself from your sugary scent.

His pale shoulders shaking, sweat clinging onto his hair and the back of his neck.

Just being in your mere presence seemed to make him tremble.

“Oh! And this is for him-” You thrust out your bag of clothes (it was a t-shirt and a skirt, this time—hey! You couldn’t help yourself, you really didn’t have anything else this time. Really.) which Eso took with a thankful nod.

“Thank you. This will help a lot, he hasn’t been letting anyone else get close to him - not even Jin, and he’s just out getting Choso some coolants. We think this will help a lot more, though.” And then he turns behind him, presumably to search for the cheque—

“Oh, please.” You step back, moving in the direction of the exit. “There’s no need for that, you’ve already compensated me far more than enough, seriously. Just consider it a friend helping out a friend at this point.”

Choso shivers.

Eso smirks, “A friend, huh?” And he lugs his tall, heavy older brother inside. “Hear that, bro? You’re quite lucky to have such a good…friend, huh?” To which Choso murmurs something dark that you can’t hear, and Eso laughs. “Alright alright.”

And with that, you’re waving off the two brothers (well, mostly Eso as Choso was quite…incapacitated at the moment) and making your way down once more.

But every step felt like weights were attached to your feet.

Thump.

As you head back down to the car waiting outside.

Ba-dump.

When you still feel the tingle of his touch on your skin. You clenched your fists and tried to remember - only three more days of his rut. Only three more days that you two will be meeting like this. If at all. (‘You’re here. Please, I want you.’)

You want to go to him.

.

EIGHTH DAY OF RUT.

It was business as usual. You arrived at the penthouse building, nodded politely at the receptionist, and rode the elevator all the way up to the final floor.

Except, this time, when you pressed the buzzer on the door - there was no Choso.

And so you waited for a few seconds before pressing it again, for slightly longer this time. No Choso, still. And no Eso, either. Nor a beaming Jin, nor even that infamous uncle of theirs that you’ve heard much about.

You tried a few more times before opening up your chat with Choso (he hadn’t responded to you all morning, and you were beginning to feel slightly anxious). And just as you were about to shoot a text to Eso, there’s a rattle behind the thick door. As if something heavy had just rested against the plane of wood.

“Choso?” You ask, cautiously.

And there’s heavy breathing. A low, cracked baritone that says—“Baby.” Shivers run down your spine. Sparks. It seemed he was alone in his penthouse today. “I’m okay, I’m okay. Don’t you worry now.” He reassures you, likely scenting the concerned sourness in your pheromones. And you smell the faint willowy fragrance of him seeping out comforting pheromones of his own. “But m’gonna need you to leave that bag at my doorstep, okay? Just leave it there, Eso will contact you about the rest, and I need you to carefully get in the elevator and leave, alright? Don’t worry about me.”

Exasperated. “Choso, how can I not worry about you?”

“It’s just this hngh- damn- rut-” He replies, as if the very words pained him to say. A hand slamming down on the door—crash! “But you don’t have to worry about it, alright? I’ll be right as rain for you in about t-two days, it’s just a little hard right now…”

“I see.” And with that, you listen to what he has to say. You couldn’t fight against nature; and for a prime alpha that was likely even more true.

You leave the bag of clothes at his doorstep - a pair of your soft, cotton sleep shorts this time, and a skirt that you (almost) had no shame in putting in - and wade your way down. As you get in the elevator, you see the front door to Choso’s penthouse open- and his deep, brown eyes staring at you from across the hallway.

Before the doors shut, and it’s another day.

.

NINTH DAY OF RUT.

“Choso—” You’d forgone pressing on the doorbell and started knocking on his expensive door by now. Yesterday he’d answered your calls after a few minutes - today it seemed like he wasn’t answering at all.

And yet, you tried anyway.

It seemed that Choso had fully isolated himself from his well-meaning family by this stage of his rut. And they counted on you to hand off your fresh bag of pheromone-doused clothes - he seemed to be getting quite a bit of use from them.

The thought made your heart race.

You shook the notion away and focused on knocking once more - still nothing.

Eventually, your phone vibrated with a text from Jin. He was telling you to simply leave the bag at Choso’s front door like you had the day before, and that he’d pop in later to check that everything was okay with his son.

You sighed, “I’ll be leaving this here, Cho.” Enough so that he could hear. And you do as you said, the bag was heavy today with a t-shirt, and another flimsy skirt. You already start wondering what you’ll share with him tomorrow. “Just one more day- hang tight, okay?”

And with that, you walk away. Getting into the elevator, you attempt to peek through the closing gap for a glimpse of him, perhaps even his gaze, perhaps even the sight of the door opening - no such luck.

But if you had then you’d have been awe-struck.

Choso Kamo. Gone.

It takes him a few more minutes after you’ve left to even think of stepping out into the empty hallway. Once any and every trace of your scent had dissipated from the place. Once he could finally tug his hand out from underneath his pre-drenched pants, rock-hard at the mere sound of your voice. Twitching.

And as soon as Choso grabs ahold of the bag, he all but moans.

Your scent hits him as soon as he opens it up; inside was a t-shirt, a skirt, and a—oh. He really does moan once he realizes what it was. Reaching for that flimsy piece of fabric at the very bottom of the bag, bundled up like it wasn’t even meant to be there, Choso’s right hand furiously slips underneath the hem of his pants once more.

And later - hours and hours later - you’ll be finishing up folding your laundry for the night when you realize: one of your panties had gone missing.

.

TENTH DAY OF RUT.

It was the final day.

You didn’t quite know how to feel. Of course, you were glad for the fact that Choso won’t be under such agony after today, and that he’d finally have full control of his body. For the first time in ten entire days.

But then again, a part of you was…slightly saddened by the prospect of not seeing him anymore.

You had to admit that you’d grown to like him a lot more than you thought you would. A lot more than a simple scent exchange—no. He was a prime alpha. Unfocused on anything but work. Uncaring. And yet…that was entirely just the first impression he’d given you.

The fact of the matter was that he was much more than that.

Much, much more.

And you couldn’t explain away the slight pang in your heart as you realized that this might be the last time (ever - for who was to say that he’d want you as his partner for the scent exchange program next year, as well) you’d be leaving him your pheromone-drenched clothes. So you take your time nodding at the workers you pass on your way to his penthouse, steps as lingering as can be.

Until, finally, you boarded the elevator.

And you were outside his imposing door once more. Dark and looming. You didn’t even bother pressing on the buzzer anymore, your hand raising to knock—

The door was already open.

You halted. Hovering outside the doorway, unsure of what to do- “Choso?” Calling out, you carefully took a step inside. The door was unbolted yet not fully swung open, more like someone had simply forgotten to lock it. And yet, with the state he was in, you didn’t know what to expect. “Are you home? Are you alright?”

When there’s no answer, you actually go inside.

And the first thing that hits you: the fragrance.

The smell of vanilla vines. The sweetness of whipped cream. The airy feeling of its spread. The warmth that it brings to your body. You take it all in and you feel your knees go weak- fuck, you’ve never felt like this before.

Just because of a—you take an even deeper breath—scent?

Oh, and your feet move towards where the pheromones were more concentrated before you know it. With barely enough sense to close the door behind you, barely enough scent to watch where you were going, to register - it seemed you were walking to none other than Choso’s bedroom.

And it was a dangerous path you were following.

A dangerous path, indeed.

That slight rational part of your brain told you to walk away, to get a beta like Eso to check up on Choso instead. But no—you’d rather walk.

You’d rather stop- and blink yourself back to the realization that you’d just wound up outside the master bedroom. Its varnished wooden door ajar, just like the entrance had been. Streams of vanilla scent wafting from underneath it.

Wafting straight to your brain-

“Baby?” Choso’s guttural growl hits straight to your core, and you can feel your panties slowly soaking at his tone. Deep. Husky. Almost hoarse with need. “Baby- oh, baby. Are you there?”

Even from this distance, Choso could smell your pheromones - and you were sure that you’re puffing it out even more now. Soundlessly, you push open the door, and there he was.

Sprawled against the sheets of his king-sized bed.

Surrounded by your clothes. His skin flushed, covered with a gleaming layer of sweat. Head clammy and rested against his pillows. Stripped down to just his boxers. Hands twitching like they didn’t know whether to pull out of his pants out of propriety, or to grip his raging hot cock even harder. Broad pecs out as he panted—

Choso glimpsed the sight of you entering and threw his head back with a moan- “Oh-” He pleaded, and it almost sounded to you like a whine. “Oh, you don’t know what you’ve done.”

“Choso—” You whisper, hypnotized by the impressive length that was outlined in his underwear. You step into his room, and it feels like stepping into a sauna. Oversaturated with scent, and sweat, and the craving for sex. He flinches at the sound of your voice.

Like he’d just been electrocuted.

Mouth slack. Expression like he’d just seen a ghost.

“You don’t know what you’ve just done…fuck.” And with that, he beckons out one toned arm in your direction. Staring at you dead-on through his half-lidded peripherals, plump lips wobbling. Spit-slicked. And ready. “I beg of you…don’t deny me.”

You take two steps.

Two.

And on the third one, Choso’s effortlessly reaching out and tugging you to him. Straight into his bed. You land straddled on top of his toned pelvis, all wet with a puddle of sticky precum. Drippin’ down the inner parts of your thighs, just feeling your body on top of his makes his erection wad out with creamy pre.

Cascading in beads between your skirt, n’ down your drenched panties. “Sh-shit, Choso.” You whimper, and your inner luna coos. “How do you want me to help you? What do you want?”

And he hums as if he pretends to think - as if he could even formulate a coherent thought right now. Nostrils flaring as he takes in your sultry scent, he grins. “I’ve been dying of thirst these past few days, baby- have barely even had a proper meal.”

You nod, “I can whip something up for you- what would you like-”

“Oh no, baby. I want you.”

.

“N-ngh—oh.” Your spit bubbles out at the feeling of the tight, hot streeeeetch between your pussylips. Choso’s cracking open those cute, slick-covered thighs of yours.

His pinkish tongue stretching out with a slurp to lick up the mess made all over your skin. It covers you like a sheen, and Choso’s ready to lap up each n’ every drop of slick that clings onto you. Tongue dipping in and out.

And he drag-drag-drags the tip of his tastebuds over to where your panties were, slipping his tongue just inside-

“Oh my god- ngh.” You buck your hips wildly from where you’re straddling his pretty, pretty face. And just as you raise your cunt, Choso lurches his face up to chase it. You shiver as you feel his wet muscle against your panties once more, “Don’t tease, Cho- I thought you said you were hungry-”

“Baby, I’m starving.” He’s spitting out between your bloated folds, voice thick with need. “Oh my god. I’m ravenous. Famished- I think m’gonna fucking die if I don’t eat this pretty pussy right now.”

“Then why don’t you- hck…?”

“Because—” Choso whines out - as if having your treacly cunt so close to him and yet so far was killing him inside - and he looks at you through his long lashes. And you swear you see his lashes glitter with needy fuckin’ tears- “-because you need ta tell me s’okay to.”

“Oh.” Your mouth parts, a cloud of murky breath escaping. It only adds to the heat in the room, every inch of your skin is practically sizzling at this point.

And without further ado, you grip onto the crown of Choso’s scalp. It was drenched in needy sweat, and he whimpers as you tug on his glossy, brown locks. “Wh-what do you-” He mutters as you start to move, a line of drool tricklin’ from the side of his mouth. “-baby, what are you going to- oh, mmmgh-”

And then he’s just stuffed.

Then he’s just getting such a wet, candied mouthful of your pussy and he can’t stop himself from groaning into the taste. Can’t help himself from careening forwards and makin’ out with your pussy even deeper. Can’t help himself from slithering his long tongue upwards and slidin’ straight down your glittering crevice.

A single lick - a single one - and Choso’s suddenly pussydrunk.

“I- I think-” He mumbles away wetly, “I think you’re my soulmate.”

Choso then plunges his tongue into you like a madman.

Thick, salivating thrusts straight between your swollen pussylips. He seems to be aiming straight for your throat with his lengthy pushes, and you feel him stretch out your entrance with his sheer girth. Again. And again and again and again.

Plump n’ clingy.

The round tip of Choso’s tongue slips across your walls n’ and you shiver, you feel him perfectly fill out every hidden crevice. “Oh- oh my god, Cho—your tongue is just so long.”

“You like it, baby?” He’s fluttering his lashes, and you flinch as both of his clammy palms plaster onto either side of your thighs. Trembling. Holding you open. Choso holds onto you so tight that you feel his nail marks dig into your flesh, tugging you down onto his ajar mouth. “Please- please, I hafta know- you know, I was made to make you f-feel good?”

“It feels so good—” You shrill out, your throat botched with hoarse whines. And without you even thinking, Choso’s manhandling you into a steady cadence on top of his gaped maw.

Pushing and pulling.

Swervin’ and stirring.

You have your needy, oversensitive folds spread all open for him, and his tongue stickin’ its way inside your puckered hole. Oh, it was just so cute how you clenched each time he pulled out- it’s like you wanted him to stay so bad.

And his right hand inches in, pryin’ open your pussylips to further bare you to his thrashing mouth. “I’m glad-” He rasps out, “I’m s-so glad I make you feel good, baby. You know you can ride me h-harder, y’know?”

“Are you sure?” You weave a second hand into his scalp, and push away the perspired bangs sticking to his forehead. “But m’worried you won’t be able to breathe, Choso.”

He furrows his dark brows like he’s confused, “But I don’t need to breathe.”

“Y-yes you do?”

“No I don’t.” He insists, firmer this time. And you think you can hear the tint of dominance creeping into his shaky baritone. Tugging you down- “Just- harder. Please. Sit.”

Your body thrills at the idea of properly seating yourself on top of his handsome face. Because you were hovering right now, but he wanted you to sit sit.

Jerking you down- “Just- fucking- sit- who do you think ya are?”

“Your- breathing…”

And before you know it, Choso grips your poor, jittery legs so hard that now you’re sure they leave marks. Ones for days. Weeks. Months. And using his natural strength, he spreads them wiiiiide open—“Open for me- just open f’me. Please. Just a lil’ more…” Salivating at the heavenly sight above him, he then edges his heady head forwards and spits. Leaning in even closer. “I haven’t eaten anythin’ proper in days, my baby. So if I want you to sit, then I mean- sit.”

You properly situate yourself on top of his scorching maw with a yelp, and with this angle- oh. Choso’s able to angle his head even deeper.

Push after push.

Tuggin’ it back out with the most lecherous squelches. And then right back again. He lets his roverin’ wet tip scour every inch inside of you - fuck, he was famished. Letting the cloying webs of your slick seep all the way to the back of his throat.

And Choso groans at the friction of you riding his mouth like you were drunk on it: back n’ forth, back n’ forth, back n’ forth.

You’re leaving his pretty lips all red and raw with your vulgar tempo- and though it burns with the pressure, he doesn’t let up. He doesn’t even slow down.

He doesn’t do anything but pin you down onto his gluttonous mouth with one hand, whilst the other spreads open your folds. Thumbing down your crevice, Choso swabs your throbbing clit as he passes.

And he gulps back the spittle building up in his mouth once he sticks the forefront of his digit inside. Gutturally openin’ up your hole, “And look at her—oh.” You shake at his pants as he continues massaging his thick thumb inside. “My dessert.”

Dessert.

Fuck- you snap your head down in slight concern to check up on him. And what meets you is Choso’s barely-open eyes, his hazy peripherals, his cute blush, his babbling mouth. He flaps his lips open a few times and takes you in even deeper.

“O-oh.” You arch your spine into the perfect curvature, grindin’ your cunt down in sensual figure-eights. “Fuck yes- yes, it feels so good-”

“Fuckin’ tastes so good.” Choso grunts out, Adam’s apple bobbing after each heavy gulp of your syrupy slick. “Better than anything I’ve ever had-” You’re riding his face to madness, letting out slurp after slurp that echoes out each time you slide your tender pussy up, up, uuuup to the tip of his sharp nose. And then all the way down, just to do it all over again. “Better than anything I- oh, anything that I could possibly even imagine.”

And then he pauses - not the scourin’, slipping movements of his mouth - but the way he was prattling away.

For that moment, the only sounds in the room were the wettened slurps of your pussy and the way that you were struggling to catch your breath- Choso himself doesn’t even seem to need to respire. No, he was much too focused on entering his prolonged ring finger and middle inside your sappy cunt.

You feel the way he stretches you out on his single digits, the slightly feverish heat of them being tracked oh-so-perfectly inside.

Reaching even further than what his mouth was able to reach. Stirrin’ against every tiny nook and cranny. Stretching you out, out, out.

And like Choso was made to - like he solely existed to - his body manages to find your sweet spots so easily. Squeeeeelch. The curvy ends of his fingers digging against the sides of your walls, slickly, you smell the pure carnal satisfaction in his pheromones as you shiver.

Your mouth dropping into a breathy ‘oh’ at the feeling of him stroking your poor g-spot. “There- r-right there, oh my god…ngh.”

“Oh, you’re getting even wetter, baby.” He gapes his mouth open at the way you were dripping out like a waterfall. Like an open faucet. “Awww, s’this all f’me?” The most sugary-sweet sploshes of slick that’s targetted straight into his open mouth - but just because Choso was fucking you with his digits doesn’t mean that he’s letting you off easy with his tongue, either. “You- you know, I almost can’t keep up- heh. Ngh, but I will.”

“You- you will?”

“Fuck yeah.”

And there’s something growling at the back of Choso’s throat. Something primal. Something that makes him sound half-crazed- and he’s acting like it, too.

Wrenching you straight down onto his face like a seat. He’s making you sit all idly as he laps his flattened tongue all over the front of your pussy, drinking in each n’ every ounce of syrup that he was urging out.

And right in time with the way his fingertips probed into your tender g-spot, you could feel his tongue sliding everywhere. Almost as if he was painting. From the line of your slit, to the button of your clit- and then he’s even trying to thrust his greedy way inside.

Like he was trying to fuck you twice with both his fingers and his tastebuds.

Slurp after slurp. He uses the strong tip of his tongue to tug aside your pussylips, and slides in a third finger.

Now fucking you with all three—“And oh- look at her, she’s so soft. So sweet. So-” He could barely even speak with the way he was lunging forwards between breaths to leave such long, open-mouthed kisses on your cunt. “I wouldn’t mind even suffocating between these pretty thighs, c’mon- harder.”

And there it was again, that little mantra. “H-harder? Again? Choso, are you sure what you’re asking f-”

“I know too well, baby.” Pouting, “Want this pretty pussy to grind against me, please?”

“But I already am-”

“Even harder. And-” With a slight jolt that runs through Choso’s lanky body, he’s sniffing the air - or more accurately, your soaked cunt. And whatever he smells makes him grin. “-and you’re just so close- I need you to cream all down my tongue, m’kaaaaay?”

“Oh.” Your mouth drops, and surely- you could feel the twinges of pleasure that were rushing up your core. Sparking. “Yes-” You listen to him, and the luna inside you purrs. “Please- wanna cum- please please-”

And Choso’s listening. Choso’s nodding.

Accelerating the hammers of his fingers, it makes you throw your head back with a keen. Your body shaking- and each of these, the alpha below you takes happily.

Any time you pushed him around. Any time you were clutching onto the strands of his body and movin’ him to perfectly angle his swabs against your g-spot. Any time you crushed your pussy down on his mouth, he himself bucked—

“M’so close—” You whine through your tears, now that you knew your orgasm was impending. And he hears that confession like the prettiest melody he’s ever heard.

“So cum, baby.” Choso stares up at your tensing expressions atop him - so beautiful. “Please- c-can you cum on my face?” And then he’s tugging his slick, velveteen tongue across your clit. Bringing your attention to it- “Right here, baby. Cum riiiiight here…”

Not waiting any longer, you do cum.

Right then and there - exactly in the middle of his sizzling tastebuds, like he’d wanted you to. Your orgasm drags out in waves of bliss, and with each one he bullies his fingers upwards.

Strike after strike to your g-spot-

Your toes curl, you see stars.

“Oh.” You shake on top of his mouth, feeling so easily overstimulated by his ruthless pace. You run a hand through his hair, “You really are starved, Cho- easy there, you’ll choke.”

He giggles wetly through the whines n’ wads of slick you were letting out. “Baby, I told you- I don’t mind if I fuckin’ suffocate if it’s between these gorgeous, gorgeous legs.” As if to prove his point, he only surges you through your high even further. Letting it linger. “In fact, I’d be honored.”

It’s with these exact words ringing in your eardrums that you ride out the entirety of your high. Until you’re shaking and sensitive, until it’s nothing more than a fuzzy sensation at the pit of your stomach.

“I know you’d be honored, but-” You whimper, “-oh, baby. M’sensitive.”

Choso jolts at the nickname you’d just used for him- “Th-that’s unfair. You should know how much power you- fuck, have over me like this-” And it really doesn’t help that your candied pussy has him pussydrunk.

“You’re saying that when you have me like this?”

You’re noticing that his pheromones seemed to have tampered down from the unstable manner they were earlier. Sure, they were still just as strong and frequent - but they seemed to be more of a controlled roar than bursts.

Adoringly, you run your fingers through his needy scalp, chasing your touch- only, you’re so weak with the aftershock of your orgasm that your hand slips. It slides under Choso’s pillow. And soon enough, you’re holding onto the stringy hem of your panties.

The exact same ones that you thought you’d lost last night.

He’d somehow acquired them, and hidden them away under his pillow- perhaps at the sound of your intrusion into the penthouse. And you hold them up to his bleary line of vision with a huff, “And care to explain this?”

“Well you put it in my bag, baby.” He puffs out, gingerly. “And m’not gonna complain about something so sweet…”

“As expected.” You grumble out, half-heartedly, before you get a lecherous idea yourself. With a sloppy slurp! you extract yourself off of Choso’s ravenous mouth.

And he chases your pussy with a whine- only for that very gluttonous maw of his to get stuffed with your balled-up panties. Perhaps if this was any other alpha (especially a prime alpha, at that) then they might have been irritated, then they might have spat out the damn thing and gotten revenge instead.

But what Choso does is choke on your lewd panties and whimpers.

His hips thrusting upwards needily. Those tight, tight boxers of his had all but slid off by now, and your cunt scrapes against the rotund crown of his shaft. Feeling it dribble out in precum down your slit, you slide down his size leisurely- “And I guess you can’t complain about something else just as sweet, hm?”

He muffles out a moan through his gag - before he realizes that he wasn’t making any sense, and can only nod and nod and nod.

“Thought so.” You giggle out, before turning your attention downwards. “And now, to see whether it’s true that it’s always the quiet ones…”

And once you finally drop down his underwear, you finally have an answer to that.

Because Choso was big.

Mentally, you count up his swollen length - about seven, eight- no, over nine entire inches that throbbed and pulsed eagerly at the feeling of your gaze on him. And he was measurably as thick, decorated with a few winding veins that you run your fingernail down.

Just the slightest touch. You follow down the somewhat unruly line of his dark happy trail. Enough to make him spurt out in pearly beads of pre, that drip down your wrist.

He was blushed the cutest red on top of his tip, matching the flush that was overtaking his face. Choso gnaws down on his bottom lip, his hips bucking in impatience as you continue your teasing ministrations. “Come- come on-” Uttering through your damn panties still - it seemed as if he didn’t want to take it off. “Won’t you ride me- ngh, stupid, baby?”

“Oh- so is that what you want during your rut, Cho?” You balance yourself on top of him, guiding his fat tip between your folds. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head fervently- “No- no, ngh. It feels like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life so won’t you- hck!” Rutting. “Please just- fuck me.”

And so you do.

Well- almost. You plop your hips down to take in the first inch of his ruddied cockhead. It was honed just so perfectly to squeeze his way inside, pointed at the tip n’ then opening you sinfully up, up, uuuuup—

“Ohhh—” Your head falls back, lungs heaving. He was stretching you out until you were rendered speechless, and Choso was barely even trying. Having you drunk on the sheer size of his cock already. “Shit, Choso. You’re so big, it’s unf- oh.”

You stop short.

Because that’s when you crack your eyes open to take a good, long look at him.

The way that Choso’s flush was fuming at his point, the way his eyes were rolled so far back that you could only see the whites of them, the way his mouth was unhinged with such a ragged groan of your name-

“Fuh-fuck…fuck.” He could barely even manage out, and goosebumps bristle all throughout Choso’s clammy skin at the first feeling of your hot, drippin’ cunt.

Fuck, he even has to spit out that panty gag of yours that he loved so much.

Before you know it - before he even knows it, because fuck if he was in control of his own body at this point - he’s already rutting upwards into your heated pussy. Not even a proper thrust. Not even trying, actually.

Just wanting to feel you.

“Oh-” You gasp, “Easy there, Cho.”

“S-sorry, baby.” He groans, and stops himself just in time. To support his claim, both his hands reach above him and hold onto the wooden pillars of the headboard. Clenching. “Take all the time you need, okay?”

“Mhm—”

And so you do. Teasing. Grinding.

It was just so sensual the way you were taking him. And the thing was- you hadn’t even gotten used to his size yet. So all you were doing was feeling the resistance of your slick walls. Fighting back, gritting his teeth; he whines as he attempts to stay in control, “Take- all the- time-”

“I will.” You purr, and it makes him just melt. Oh, how badly he just wanted to hold onto you and fuck you stupid, until you couldn’t talk back to him in that sultry voice that left him as putty in your hands. “But it’s just so hard, that I…”

“That you what?” Almost sounding pain. A man with his life on the line.

And you take your time pretending to think, “-that I don’t even know if I can take it all, Choso. What a shame.”

His voice cracks, “Oh, that’s okay, baby. That’s okay- don’t have to do anything you d-don’t want to, honey. But oh—” And the bed creaks once he holds himself back from yet another thrust. “-p-please try.”

“I dunno…if only I had someone to help me.” You pretend to look around, “I just wonder who-”

“I can.” Eager. So, so eager. He’s trying to keep himself restrained n’ under control, but it doesn’t fucking work. His chest practically vibrates with the force of his secondary gender begging to enter you- “Let me, baby? I promise I can get it all the way-” One of his hands lets up the grip of his headboard, sliding down your middle. He marks an ‘x’ midway down your stomach, almost near your damn lungs. “-h-here. Does that sound good, ngh-?”

“Mhm—sounds perfect- oh.”

He doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - doesn’t even let you finish your train of thought before Choso then holds one side of your hips and reels his achin’ cock back to push and push and push.

Squelch after such lecherous squelch.

“Oh my god-” Choso moans out, hollowly, once you squeeze your gummy walls ‘round him. And he locks his eyes down to where the two of you were connected before he repeats his pushing motions. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. So this is what a p-pussy feels like…she can feel this good?” He murmurs, breathless. “That should be illegal- oh, this shouldn’t be fucking allowed- you could kill a man.”

You gape. The way he positioned his pistons was so perfect, grazing each ridged crevice inside your channel. “So you’ve really never done this- ngh, before?”

“No- never in my life. But oh, baby, if I knew it would feel like this then I’d have fucked you right in the- hngh, meeting room that I met you.” With that said, he fucks up into you primally. “So now will you h-hold still and take it alllll?”

Something in his crazed smile made you tremble. And you can’t stop yourself from responding back, “Y-yes?”

“Tha’s not good enough, baby. I need you to tell me you’ll take it-” Before you know it, he has one hand on your neck. “C’mon.” The other’s still holding onto the headboard, flexing in a way that makes you ogle his chiselled muscles. “Say it.”

Shocked by this sudden desperation, this sudden dominance. “I’ll t-take-” You can barely even breathe - not just because of the rough hold he had on you, but the way that his hand then slithers back down to your stomach now.

And Choso was pushing down where the most pressure was on you already, feeling for his cylindrical intrusion as he fits inside.

Feeling for himself as he does.

You’re being bucked and busked in tiny bounces upwards each time Choso’s ramming his hips into you. And he decides that he just won’t let you get away that easily. Cooing, “Yes? Please tell me, honey- please.”

“Gonna take it- ngh.” You whimper, your entire body shaking each time he slipped in yet another inch. His cock was so long that it felt like it was never-ending probing into your deepest depths. “-all- fuck! M’gonna take it all, Cho—”

And then something in him seems to snap.

Because with a final, furious rut- Choso’s bottoming out.

He’s hitting the back of your cervix with a wet thwack! He’s letting his entire veiny length throb inside you. He’s shattering the ancient wood of the headboard with his pure inhuman strength, before bringing his hands down to your hips.

He just broke the bed- and now with both of them glued there as if with adhesive, you’re pinned to him.

At his full, carnal (lack of) mercy as Choso drills into you at a speedy pace. You swear he’s hitting the goopy back of your pussy multiple times a second, burrowing his thick circumference deeply into the back of it.

“There-” He husks out with his smoky breath, and it sounds more like a grunt. “There there there there there-” Every syllable of his is punctured with a thorough push against your spongy cervix.

And his heavy, partially-closed eyes are simply latched onto where your pussy glistened around his thick hilt. You were stretched so widely open around him that he almost felt bad for that poor cunt of yours - “Fuck, m’r-really inside- ngh. Can you feel me all deep inside?” Hazy peripherals probing up at you for answers. “Does it feel like this pussy’s gonna n-ngh- remember me, baby?”

“Yes- fuck, don’t even joke about that.” You whimper, because it fully felt like he was molding your snug channel to his size. “M’feeling you in so deep.”

“Heh, and I can see that.” He chuckles, and you wonder what he’s talking about.

Snapping your head down, you realize just what it is - because it didn’t matter just how your body was proportioned or angled, the thickness of Choso’s shaft was so generous that he could see himself bulge from the outside.

Such a cute lil’ bump that he follows with one thumb, letting it linger above your womb to feel the vibrations of him hitting the back of your pussy. “Look at thaaaaat—almost makes me wanna fuck in a-another bump into you, my baby.”

Oh?

Oh.

Your jaw gapes, “Choso, do you mean a-”

“Yes.”

“You wanna fuck me pregnant-”

“Oh—don’t make me imagine it like th-that.” And you’re quickly understanding why: because it made his rock-hard cock swell even further. He was getting even harder. His pheromones gusting out. His already-incredible length snagging against the sides of your walls with his big he was getting.

He looked completely shattered at the mere thought.

An expression which you can’t help but get addicted to. And, slowly but surely, you find yourself melting atop his broad body. “Well- that- ngh, that is what ruts are for, aren’t they?”

Still not stopping, he just slightly blinks up at you.

Just slightly lets it sink in.

It takes a full five thuds against the back of your needy pussy before the words fully register in Choso’s buzzing brain. And he acknowledges them with a sudden, damp gasp- “So you…” Lovingly scraping his open palm down your front, your womb. “- you would let me cum inside, baby? R-right here?”

“Mhm, really.”

“Really really?” He repeats in disbelief, and the tips of his fingerpads shake as he holds onto you. As he flares his nostrils and sniffs- “Oh, baby.”

You look towards him at the hushed tone of his voice, the way he almost sounded as if he was in prayer. “Yes?”

“You’re in heat.”

He’d pushed you into heat.

And now he was pushing you onto your back. Your head pressed against the soft pillows, you whine as your limp legs are thrown over his shoulders, your heels digging into the divots at his Herculean shoulders. “And I’m- haaaah—” Honestly, he sounded as if he was in a daze. As if he was dreaming.

In an instant, you find your knees being pushed all the way up to your tits, and Choso’s clammy forehead sticking to yours. Burning hot.

He takes a few seconds to admire you like this, before his tongue flickers back to life- and so does his rough cadence. “-and m’gonna give you exactly what you want, my little omega.”

A baby.

Your inner luna was yearning for it- and by the way that Choso sniffs, you’re sure he could smell it on your scent.

Squealing at the stretch of both your hamstrings and your poor pussy, you throw your head back and take it- rapid, burrowing thrusts. More like pistons. Straight to your g-spot. Then push-push-pushing his crowned tip against every inch of your depth, he doesn’t leave a single speck of space inside you that isn’t dotted with his precum.

Choso spits against his snarling canines, “Gonna fill you up r-right till- here-” You find your throat in his clutches, bringing his face even closer against your swollen scent glands. “Gonna fill you up with my cum until you can’t even remember your name. And then- and then…”

“And then…?” You’re bawling out, feeling the sparks of your high start to simmer after each plunge. Each of his dirty, dirty sentences.

“And then—” And even though Choso was already so close, he’s bustlin’ himself even deeper against the heady crook of your neck. The edges of his honed canines nipping at your skin, as if to remind you exactly what he’s capable of. “-then m’gonna fill you up with my knot until you can’t remember anything but that.” He promises, “Honey, you’re not walking outta this room until you’re pregnant.”

“O-oh-” You shudder, your hands clawing down Choso’s scalp and down to leave red, red lines over his back. “I want that- hck! Oh, I think m’so close, Cho.”

He groans, “Fuck- seems I’ve filled you enough already that you’ve forgotten my name, too, hm?” Choso snickers as you look on in confusion, unsure whether it was your cockdrunken self or his pussydrunken self that was mistaken. “Why don’t you try sayin’ my hah- actual title as you cum on my cock- huh, baby?”

“Your- your actual name?” You see stars once he jabs your bruised g-spot.

“Mhm—” And he drags out his strokes so deliciously. Such windy, slurping noises that emanate every time he’s letting his shaft pull out and plunge all the way in - and what’s even worse?

Not only was Choso targeting your cute g-spot, he was doubly reaching over to pinch your clit. His thumb roverin’ wetly over it, “C’mon. Say it, baby.” As if you knew exactly what he was talking about. “Say it- call me…your mate.”

Something seems to twist and shatter inside of you - and in an instant, you’re hitting your high. Ending off the blissful burst of your orgasm with a broken call of that title.

Again and again.

The arrows of pleasure were just constant - you don’t think you’ve ever experienced an orgasm such as this. And perhaps it was on instinct, perhaps it was purely because he’d mapped out the mannerisms of your soft pussy so well, but Choso’s able to pinpoint the timing of your exact peaks.

Stabbing his rapidfire hips in before each one, he prolongs your high out until you’re seeing completely white. Your mouth falling ajar with ribbons of miry saliva-

“Ch-Choso-” You sob out, pulling him even closer to you. Your pheromones are seeping into his skin and yours, surging with each mountain of euphoria. Before you finish out shyly, “Cho- ngh, my mate.”

“Oh, f-fuck.”

And with a squelch, he’s pouring out in hot, ivory sap just like he’d promised to you earlier. So much of it- that you start to wonder where it all even came from.

Gluey lines of seed that streak your walls, Choso’s fucking each n’ every wettened wad inside until your walls surely look like such a mess. All webbed up inside, you swear you could feel the sploshes of it jostling with each jackhammer. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck-” He grits out, salivating through his snarl. Again and again, the round curve of his balls hit you with thwacks! “I need to…”

You urge your neck closer to his mouth, “Cho—”

“Fuck- I can’t- not yet-” He finishes off his orgasm, riding it out on your precious cunt. You were just so wet- so soft with the sprayed volumes of his cum, that it felt like heaven to even run his thumb down the swollen middle.

With his thumb, Choso slightly parts your folds and smears the creamy mess he’d made in the middle. It was dribblin’ all out now, forming a nice ring of his seed.

And - all buried to the hilt, still - he draws out a cute lil’ ‘C’ on top of your cunt. “I’m your m-mate.” He breathes out, and the vanilla scent of his pheromones turns more airy. Happier. “And I hafta fuck you like it.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped over - easily.

And Choso pulls out for just the barest second to help you situate, before he’s back to pressing his fleshy cockhead between your pussylips once more. He squeeze-squeeze-squeezes that thick girth inside, letting out the huskiest groan as he does so- “Ah ah, where are we going, my mate?”

“Oh, I was just…” You’re lost for words. So dumbified at this point that you didn’t even know you were jerking your body away; stuck between wanting to run away and bucking your hips back for more, more, more.

But Choso helps you with your decision: he wraps his big, beefy bicep around your neck. Chuckling at the splash of saliva that escapes you at the restraint- you’re suddenly being tugged back against his hips. Back against the throbbing cock that enters you easily, his zig-zagged veins tickling your outer rim. “You didn’t think we were done yet, right, baby?” And he sounded as if he was genuinely confused.

You look over your shoulder at him- oh, Choso was ruined. “Ah- um, perhaps?”

“That’s cute, baby. But you’re gonna let me- hah, fulfill my duty n’ fill this pretty pussy up until she can’t take anymore, right?” He wanted to watch you struggle to take his sheer volume. His cum. From behind, you could feel his thick knot swelling already- “After all…you do remember that m’still an alpha, right?”

Right.

.

After that second round came a third, expectably. And after that third came a fourth. And after that fourth- oh, Choso couldn’t help himself.

He just kept going back for more.

Because there was then a fifth, a sixth, a- honestly, you don’t even know which round you were at right now. All you knew is that you were completely n’ utterly fucked, on top, your thighs screaming for rest as you straddled his slightly bucking hips.

And Choso himself wasn’t doing much better.

He was completely flushed the exact same shade of crimson as his cockhead, from head to toe. Darkened eyes almost shut. Mouth permanently agape. Only lolling open even wider after each press of your ass cheeks against his pelvis.

You were riding him crazy.

And Choso’s murky peripherals roll to the back of his head as he felt you cum - for the nth time that night. By now, it was just the slightest tingle at the pit of your stomach, and you sobbed as you rode it all the way through.

“Yes-” He whispers, almost to himself. Cock overstimulated, the skin on his pelvis all red and raw. And yet- and yet, he still couldn’t stop. Thinks he’d rather die than stop. Sniffling back tears of sensitivity, “Yes yes yes- use me, baby. Use me, my mate.”

Choso’s puffing out pleasurable pheromones, you’d long since come to realize that they almost worked like aphrodisiacs for the two of you.

And it made you shiver, placing your face against the perspired crook of his neck. “Ngh- cum inside.” You physically move Choso’s large hands over to the front of your stomach, where he’d stuffed you with so many wads of his ivory sap that it was starting to bloat a lil’. “Please- wan’ it, ngh, inside.”

“A-as you wish, my wife- fuck.” Choso throws his head back (oh, and he doesn’t know whether it’s because of his high or that mere image of you, vowing to be with him in this life and the next). “-I-I mean, my mate.”

With that, he’s stuffin’ your orifice so much.

It’s hot and splashing against your crevices, your womb.

Not enough space for it all, it drips out like a waterfall around his happy trail, which now glistened with your sweet juices. But he couldn’t have that- now, could he? And Choso slowly - agonizingly slowly - squeezes his fleshy knot inside you. Pushing and pushing. Just tuggin’ on your walls, your entrance is so tenderized by him that it doesn’t take him too long to get the wide circumference of his base to fit inside with a wet plop! A raw stretch that makes you cry out at the oodles of cum trapped inside you.

Until it geysers. Until he’s spurting out in enough ribbons of seed that he eventually cums dry-

Until he’s turning his face inside the crook of your neck and biting into your scent glands.

You gasp as you feel the bubble of it pop! underneath his sharp teeth, and a sudden burst of pleasure explodes through your body. Hard enough that you might just be crashing into your next few orgasms all at once- “Oh- oh, fuck, Choso- my mate.”

In turn, you let your own canines bite into the glands on the side of his neck.

It leaves a bite mark just as hard and desperate as his. Just as permanent. And before long, you’re basking the aftermath of your multiple rounds, the haze of your dual fragrances now melding into one.

It takes Choso raising his nose into the air and sniffing this gradual change for you to realize- “My…my mate.” You start out, intertwining your hands with his. He sidles up against you, as if both feverish bodies were trying to become one. “No- or should I say, my fated mate?”

“You noticed.” Choso smiles, eyes twinkling with tears. And it all made sense: the intense reaction he had to your scent, the way his moved yours, the connection you felt. “I thought you never would. Where have you been my whole life?”

You coo, “Of course, I would notice. M’sorry it took so long-”

“Never apologize.” He insists, shaking his clammy head. “I’d wait lifetimes for the one that completes my soul.”

After that, once his knot went down, you two went another round - slower, this time. Not quite as fogged by the lust of your pheromones and ruts and heats, you took the time to hold each other.

You were so overstimulated that you could barely even feel your high, and Choso was fully cumming dry by this point. And yet, he was still raring to go yet another round after that - which ended up with you falling asleep right in the middle of it.

Somewhere in the middle of that, Choso had gotten up to clean you off and gently place fresh sheets over your ruined ones. He’d tucked you into bed, and cradled your tired body- ending up being the small spoon somewhere during the night.

And somewhere in the middle of that, Itadori Jin had come to visit, after some time too long without either you or Choso answering your phones. He’d wondered where you were—and was given the answer to his question the moment he walked into Choso’s bedroom.

Ah.

Young love.

Careful not to wake the two of you, he’d cheered right then and there. He knew it! He knew it, he knew that program would be good for his son. Look at the two of you now! And he almost contemplated taking a picture to commemorate the occasion before thinking better of it.

He left the door cracked as he left.

Yes, probably not. He can take as many pictures as he wants at the wedding.

.

‘Did you hear that’s the boss’s mate- yes, the fated mate! I know! I thought those things were a myth, too, but everyone knows that they’re fated.’

‘I seriously thought Jin was lying, I mean- our workaholic boss with such a gorgeous mate? Oh, but look at that bite mark on her neck, it’s clear it’s true.’

‘They met on that Scent Companionship Program, didn’t they? You know I signed up the moment I heard-’

‘I still hear they’re planning to elope in Switzerland- yes yes, and they don’t plan on inviting Sukuna, mhm. Oh? You guess he’s going to crash the wedding anyway? Don’t be silly, you don’t have to guess- of course, he’s going to crash the wedding anyway.’

It seems that news of your new bonding had reached the ears of the office. And it was all thanks to Itadori Jin.

Or, well—you tugged on the collar of your shirt. You guessed that the numerous bite marks (and especially that one rather garish one right where your scent gland was) didn’t help, either.

They stared. They whispered.

They tittered as they noticed that you still couldn’t walk entirely straight.

Still, holding your head up high, you nodded your polite greetings at the ogling office staff as you waded your way through them; carefully dodging the probing questions, the stray phone, or the one that asked for an autograph? What was that all about?

Choso, too, seemed to have beared the brunt of the day’s hottest gossip as you finally met him inside the office room. Glancing at the tinted glass of his room that had even more peeping Toms than usual.

“I’ve contracted some people to build an actual wall of concrete there.” Choso sighs, rubbing his aching temples - though, that seems to remedy itself quite quickly when you press a chaste peck there. “Immediately.”

“Long overdue.” You hum.

He nods, “Yes, and I’m also working on getting some sort of barring policy - or perhaps a restriction, I don’t even know if that’s allowed in this case - on a certain someone-”

A/N. A MAN I NEED FRFR-

Plagiarism not authorized.

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