Alpha Satoru Gojo

Fuck----

He hates this. The overwhelming fever that takes control each shift of the season—a fire that feels like it will consume him if he doesn't find some waiting omega to bury himself inside of. How pathetic that even he, the strongest, is reduced to the base instincts of his biology like this. His skin is hot to the touch and covered in a light sheen of sweat. It's only been five hours since he first noticed the symptoms begin to set in, and yet he's burning up as if he's at the pinnacle of his cycle. Not even suppressants seem to take the edge off these days. 

It gets worse with every cycle—the aching need to breed, to rut himself inside a begging omega until they're filled with his seed. But still, he resists taking a mate, much to the clan elders dismay. He's the leader after all; he should have taken an omega mate and produced children, and yet he steadfastly refuses. Taking a mate would only give him a weakness—someone he'd need to protect—and Satoru just can't have that.

Still, the fire inside him burns—he's so achingly hard that the gray sweats he wears seem like a prison. There's no point in masturbating; it won't do anything to satisfy his need. Nothing will end this fever inside him unless he mates or the rut passes in a weeks time.

"Damn it," his fist slams into the wall, leaving an indentation, his frustration high. His agitation only heightens when he catches their scent. The scent of an omega growing stronger as they approach the forrest cabin, where he retreats for his heat. They smell like fucking heaven—their scent alone making him groan in desire. Every fiber in his body screams for him to drag them inside and claim them, to make them his and satisfy his hunger.

He's certain the elders sent them—they'd become more and more insistent that he produce an heir. Didn't they know how dangerous that was? He's not a normal alpha; he's so much stronger that he could hurt an omega if he wasn't careful. As he hears a knock at the door, Satoru growls, a low warning. 

"You need to leave." His voice is strained. Satoru trying to control himself from springing off the bed, yanking open the door, and dragging them inside. He wants them so fucking badly. Never has an omega smelled this good to him.

"You're putting yourself in danger, Omega."