When Itachi bitches about Fugaku pushing for him to find a suitable omega for the millionth time, Shisui doesn’t have a lot of sympathy. It’s his own doing, really. Itachi is waiting for a certain young woman to present as an omega, someone he arguably has no right to as she’d already (briefly) dated his younger brother, and you just don’t do that kind of thing to family. The thing is, she’s eighteen. It’s past time to present; most do around fifteen or sixteen. She could potentially be a very, very late bloomer, but Shisui thinks it’s, at best, wishful thinking. For her to present would be record-breaking. She’s just not an omega. Honestly, when she’d first been introduced to him at family gathering as Sasuke’s girlfriend, she’d been such a firecracker he would have thought she was an alpha if not for the lack of scent. That girl was never going to be an omega. She and Sasuke are betas both, and disregarding any other complications, Itachi has no business dating a beta. Shisui could get away with it, but Itachi, the next clan head? No, he’s mating an Uchiha omega woman. If the esteemed Haruno Sakura, apprentice to the Godaime Hokage, had presented as an omega, her potential for an in with the Hokage might have convinced Fugaku to give Itachi a chance, her relationship with Sasuke notwithstanding. Again, though, she’s a beta. Itachi is going to die miserable because he’s madly in love with her but will eventually have to find a wife to start a family with—and it won’t be Sakura. “Izumi’s nice, right? And she’s been interested in you for years,” Shisui suggests unhelpfully. “Your continued insistence is misplaced, Shisui. I am not interested.” Shisui has been telling Itachi to just ask Izumi out for years, to the same obstinate response every time. It’s clearly what Mikoto is gunning for, too—she had desperately wanted Sakura for Sasuke, but that just wasn’t to be, clearly. Itachi is brooding now. Stoically, but he’s definitely brooding. Shisui considers trying another tactic of cheering him up, but really, there’s no point. Itachi’s fucked any way you look at it. Shisui’s never been the type to dwell on these kinds of things. Sure, he’s an alpha, but unlike Itachi, he’s immune to familial pressure. It simply doesn’t bother him, and he’s too strong and valuable to both the clan and the village to get in any real trouble for his frequent one-night dalliances and lack of interest in settling down like a good Uchiha alpha. In fact, he’s determined to remain an eternal bachelor. He can have fun with betas all day, and most of them at his age understand nothing’s going to come of it. As an alpha and a very eligible Uchiha, if he does say so himself, well, if he wanted a mate, a wife and kids, he’d have them by now. After all, he’s almost twenty-nine. “Look on the bright side,” he says at last. Itachi hums disinterestedly, staring straight forward and not looking at him. “Since she’s not an omega, it’s not like secrecy isn’t an option.” His cousin turns on him, eyes narrowed furiously, and says lowly, “I would never dishonor Sakura-san in such a way, Shisui. I’m not you.” “Oh, wow, ouch, just trying to be helpful here. Also, if anyone did the dishonoring, it was his wife! She came on to me! Itachi leans forward and rubs his temples in exasperation. He’s just being stubborn at this point. Shisui doesn’t know how to help his cousin. Having never been in any kind of love, much less the deep way Itachi is, he can’t really relate to the pain. They’re close but very different people, and the way Shisui chooses to handle his problems isn’t how Itachi does. Shisui decides it’s time to leave. He has a date with a particularly kinky woman he’s seen for a while now tomorrow, and he had promised to bring something special for them to try out, so a trip to an adult store wouldn’t be amiss. And anyway, he’s not going to achieve anything productive here. “It’ll work out,” he says, clapping Itachi on the back as he stands. “You’ll see.” If he’d just open his eyes, he’d find plenty of good women out there. Itachi doesn’t respond and Shisui excuses himself without another word. He’s been perusing the stacks at the sex shop, trying to find something fun he doesn’t already own. With Haruka, they’ve gone through his collection and back several times, so he needs something new, something exciting, but there doesn’t seem to be anything that catches his interest. What does catch his eye, however, is the bright pink head of hair he sees over in the monsterfucking section, looking at the huge, colorful dildos, some even bigger than the average alpha’s dick. Shisui’s been blessed, but there are still some that are even bigger than his. Even more interesting is that she’s looking at the biggest ones, giggling as she reaches out and grabs some of the displays, those monster-sized fake cocks, and gripping and running her hand up and down them like a handjob. She seems thrilled at the overlarge bumps and ridges, giggling even more in delight. Shisui is shocked, to say the least. When she finds the one she wants—the biggest, neon blue, with vibration and built-in thrusting—she strolls casually, comfortably, up to the counter and checks out. The entire time, Shisui can’t seem to make himself approach her, no matter how curious he is. How can a beta handle that size without pain, even seeming excited for such a huge stretch? Those dildos are usually for getting omegas through an unaccompanied heat, not for general play. Hell, Haruka’s been one of the few betas who can take his cock comfortably more than once, and even she wouldn’t be able to handle the dildo Sakura’s walking out with in an inconspicuous, generic brown bag. He wonders if Itachi’s not right in waiting, if Sakura really might be an omega. No beta he’s ever met could enjoy that toy. Truth be told, he doesn’t even own one himself—his cock is already more than enough for his partners. But no. He can generally tell if someone’s an omega even if they’re on suppressants, and Sakura, to Itachi’s continuing disappointment, is a beta. Intrigued to an almost improper degree—he tells himself he’s just checking this out for Itachi’s sake—he follows her out of the store, empty-handed. Sakura lives in a nice one-bedroom apartment on the second floor with a painted red door, a color that matches the formal qipao she’s worn to a couple of Uchiha events, with thin, gauzy white curtains in the windows and a welcome mat that says, “Safety first, drink with a nurse.” He knows Sakura’s not a nurse, she’s one of the best medics in existence, but perhaps she’s had experiences with grumpy nurses. Having had a nurse he dallied with in his early twenties, the mat isn’t wrong. He had presented Akami with a nice bottle of plum sake every visit, which she would drink half of before being destressed enough to handle him. That had lasted for as long as he’d cared to bring the wine, which wasn’t terribly long. It had almost felt like he was buying her, and Shisui’s above that. He has never and will never need to pay for sex. The night is crisp and cool, and with a little wall-walking, he finds himself comfortably perched close enough to the bedroom window that’s cracked open to let the pleasant air in. Those same gauzy white curtains flutter in the gentle breeze, and with his superior eyesight, he’s able to watch her well enough. Unfortunately, Sakura has set down the bag and left it on her dresser, untouched. Quite frankly, he’d been hoping she’d open it, maybe to even see her use it—for research’s sake! Maybe, if she can take a cock that big with such ease that she’s thrilled to buy it, Itachi could at least get a taste before mating his future wife. Maybe that would be worse, though? Who knows. He does, however, have the opportunity to watch her undress, if nothing else. That part, he won’t be sharing with Itachi. But he can evaluate if she’s even his cousin’s type physically. After all, she dresses flatteringly, but her everyday wear generally leaves a lot to the imagination. Shisui can’t help but eagerly observe her yanking off her top with a yawn, revealing modest but pert breasts. Not a surprise, really. Personally, he prefers ones big enough he can fuck with his cock, but Itachi clearly doesn’t care, perhaps even likes small tits. But they’re cute. Small rosy nipples on supple pale skin, probably enough for a handful. With her petite body and the rather exaggerated curve of her waist, they actually suit her better than if they were any larger. Her arms are surprisingly thin and feminine for the strength she possesses, and her flat, toned abdomen leads down to— She pulls off her apron skirt and underwear in the same go, revealing the entirety of her lower body. Her pubic hair is neatly trimmed, her thighs are thicker than expected, and her legs go on for days. Then she takes a long stretch, raising her arms above her head and arching her back. Yes, he can honestly see why Itachi is attracted to her. Not that it’s likely he’s seen her naked, Itachi isn’t a creep or a peeper, but Shisui approves. She turns to her bathroom, presumably to bathe, and Shisui determines his… research is complete. It’s not until he’s halfway home that he realizes his sharingan had been active the whole time. He cancels on Haruka, telling her something’s come up. What’s come up? His cock as he masturbates feverishly to the perfectly recorded memory of Sakura undressing and stretching that tantalizing body. He tries to convince himself that Itachi’s in love with her, and even though he can’t be with her, Shisui has to respect that he also can’t be with her, even for just a night. Despite her being a beta that he’s determined he’d love to take for a good ride, but he can’t do that to his cousin. But even that doesn’t stop him from… observing her. He’s caught her masturbating multiple times and has happily stored those to permanent memory, too. Still, though, she hasn’t used the monster cock, not to his knowledge, but he really wants to see. It’s still there, in the same place, in that brown paper bag. When is she going to sit on that fat dildo and let him watch her ride it to oblivion? He’s rather impatient to watch. He’ll be coming to that memory for a while, once he actually gets it. His visits become nightly for as long as he’s not on a mission. He doesn’t want to—can’t—miss it when she finally takes it out of the box and fucks herself on it. One night, after a three-day mission he’d been disappointed about—three days he could miss her using it, miss her—both the bag and box are gone. He curses upon the sight, his patience having run thin. He has to see it, at this point, but he already can’t her out of his head, so maybe it wouldn’t be a good thing to steal more of her than he already has. But—shit. He really, really can’t ask her out for drinks. Not even now, when Izumi has finally been forced upon a wretched, desolate Itachi. The wedding is summer, only six months away. That being said, winter is almost in full-swing, forcing everyone to dress in heavy clothes despite Konoha being Fire Country, which means Sakura essentially becomes a blob when she’s not naked at home. She likes to be in the nude when she’s alone, and it’s entrancing to watch her go about her day like that. Shisui has this fantasy of taking her on her dining table, pounding into her hard from behind, like she’s an omega. Why not, he wonders, when she can take something even larger than him? It’s not like it’ll hurt her, and it’ll be the closest he’ll ever get to being with an omega again. He refuses to touch them, omegas. He’s had plenty of offers and requests to help them get through their heats or otherwise date, but Shisui knows that he can be possessive, maybe a little too much. He can’t imagine letting his mate dress anything other than conservatively or leave the house for a girl’s night out. He’d be controlling, overbearing. She’d accompany him anywhere he goes, and if he’s on a mission, he’d make sure she was confined to the Uchiha compound, where no one would dare to try to steal her from him—not that they could, but they might try. Sakura is already desired by many. (He doesn’t catch his possessive use of her name, even in his conscious thoughts.) Hell, he’d probably keep her locked in the basement when he was gone. (Sakura, Sakura, Sakura. Does it matter if he can’t officially mate her because she’s a beta?) That’s why he refuses to take a more permanent partner. His Uchiha instincts, the deep, sometimes damaging love almost unique to their clan, are strong. Probably too strong, honestly. He’d once dated an omega, right after she had presented. He’d gotten her through her first heat, and had thought he might mate her—more instinct than genuine love, he realized later. But then, his first instinct after her heat was to force her to stay with him in his family home, not letting her leave for a full two days before coming to his senses once his rut had passed. As a clanless civi, there wasn’t much she could do to get him in trouble. He’d properly apologized, begged for forgiveness, and she’d eventually accepted it, but they would never be together again. That hadn’t bothered him; after just a taste of his overwhelming instincts, Shisui refuses to trigger them again, and anyway, once the hormones settled, he doesn’t think he’d ever even cared about her. Not much, at least. That’s why it’s a godsend that Sakura’s a beta, although somehow she’s triggered that instinctual desire to follow her everywhere, be in her presence even if she doesn’t know he’s there. It’s not hard, really, to be with her without actually being with her. It’s all he’ll ever get of her. He hasn’t been with anyone since the first time he’d ever cancelled on a fuckbuddy. He grips his cock tightly, not using the sharingan but instead wrapped up in his fantasy of rutting into her like she’s an omega her with hanging out of the window of his bedroom. Upper body clothed, of course, but everyone would see him claiming—no, fucking, just fucking—her. They’d know she’s his. Beta or not, he can tell by the cusp of early spring that this might be a problem. The day everything goes to shit is one where he actually isn’t following her. He’d just been going to the Uchiha compound late night market for some street food when he smelled it: the tantalizing, delicious scent of an omega, unmated. All omegas, after presenting, go on suppressants. It’s not a requirement, not if the omega wants to get fucked wherever the first interested alpha scents her, but understandably, the majority don't. Heats are even worse; fights break out over it all the time. He hasn’t met a single omega who doesn’t dose or even double-dose the pills, especially kunoichi. Being mated to an enemy alpha? Gods help them. His mouth immediately waters and it has nothing to do with the smell of karaage. The scent is faint, very faint, barely even there, and still. Shisui trusts himself not to fuck an omega, even if they’re going into heat. He’s a man of control; every shinobi has to be. He knows he has to get this omega, who’s clearly just presenting, or at least going into a particularly intense heat, to the hospital, to safety, where alphas aren’t allowed to work. As he body flickers towards the omega, wanting to get to her before anyone else does, before anyone with less control attacks her, the scent only intensifies and he finds his brain uncharacteristically fogging with desire. That hasn't happened to him with an omega since the first. Shaking his head to clear it, he takes a grip of his raging lust and smothers it. He’s not going to rape a vulnerable omega. He’s never taken anyone against their will, not even the omega who’d crossed his wires all those years ago, and he’s not going to start now. But imagine his surprise, his delight, his terror when he finds the omega, and… It’s Sakura. (Sakura, Sakura, Sakura.) She’s near the outskirts of the compound, right by the Naka forest—what’s she doing here, anyway?—so Shisui’s amazed that he smelled her all the way from downtown Uchiha district—and that no one’s come for her yet. He’s never smelled something more divine than her. She’s curled up on her stomach, whimpering in a way that makes Shisui’s mating canines ache, and he can smell a small amount of slick. He has to hold back his groan. He approaches her slowly, even though he can feel his mind whirring, blurring. Regardless of his temptation, he can’t just leave her here. It occurs to him that this is perfect for Itachi. His cousin's wish came true, and it’s still possible for Itachi to convince his father that Sakura is superior to Izumi. After all, Izumi is only a chuunin, with only the desire to settle down and have a family, like most omegas, even if they’re kunoichi. Sakura is a jounin, a revered medic nin comparable to the Godaime. Even Fugaku will admit she’s a better match for the next Uchiha clan head than Izumi despite not being an Uchiha. Their children will be ridiculously strong. He edges closer tentatively. This is perfect for Itachi, he repeats to himself. Sakura has always been his. His cousin will be happy, won’t live a miserable life with a mate he doesn’t even like all that much. It’s a dream come true. Shisui is trying really, really hard to care right now. “Sakura?” he says softly, forgetting the honorific. She’s so familiar to him that using it feels wrong, even if she’s completely unaware of their closeness. She whimpers, barely turning her head to meet his gaze, but the moment they make eye contact, her fogging eyes brighten and clear a bit. “Shisui,” she begs, voice hoarse. “Help me. Please. I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He’s surprised. As a medic nin, she should know the signs inside and out. But she’s also coming up on nineteen and, as he’d always thought, there’s no way she can be presenting now. Except she is. (Itachi—Itachi—Itachi, he reminds himself. But—Sakura, Sakura, Sakura.) “It’s going to be okay,” he says, crouching down beside her and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. There’s more slick leaking out, her potent scent thickening; of course it is, he’s an alpha and she’s a new omega and he’s touching her. She moans. He realizes his cock is painfully hard, aching just from that small point of contact. He's never touched her before, but he now never wants to stop. “Ho-hospital,” she grunts, and tries to push herself to her feet. “Don’t move,” he says, pressing her back down. That’s not what he should have said, though. He should be encouraging her to stand so he can more easily transport her to safety. Time is of the essence; it won’t be long before another alpha catches her scent. There’s plenty of unmated Uchiha men, some that might not know to stay away. “What… are you doing?” she whispers, pushing back up against his hand with more strength than he expects from her condition, but he keeps her firmly to the ground and refuses to think about why. Can’t think about why. “I’m going to help you,” he replies just as quietly as he thoughtlessly shifts behind her, still keeping her to the ground with a hand on the small of her back. If she wasn’t hurtling into her first heat, which are always the most intense, he would never have been able to keep her down, but he can right now—arguably at one of the worst times. He settles himself behind her curled form and gently pushes her knees apart. She’s in pants today, a real misfortune. “Shisui?” she asks, determinedly lifting her head to look back at him. He’s too busy watching the wet spot between her legs grow, so he doesn’t know what she sees, but it alarms her. “Shisui, what a-are you doing?!” He doesn’t respond, instead slipping his hand between her thighs. Gods, she’s so hot and wet, even through her pants. He already knows she’ll feel better than anyone he’s ever been with, even that one omega. Sakura startles, even as she mewls approvingly, and is somehow to her feet in an instant, though she’s hunched over, covering her belly. He stands too. “Stop, Sakura, don’t fight. I’m going to take good care of you, I promise.” She stumbles backwards. “No, Sh-Shisui, you don’t understand—Itachi—” Oh? So she feels the same way about his cousin? Really—fate is so kind. Or it would have been, had Shisui never seen her buy that monster dildo at the sex shop; had never seen her naked; had the thought of her being with Itachi or anyone other than himself not curdled his stomach and triggered the worst of his instincts. “No," he says flatly. “You belong to me.” She pales, beads of sweat on her forehead, one dripping down and off her nose. He watches it trail down her collarbone towards those perfect breasts. “Shisui, no,” she insists weakly. She’s a stubborn omega, that’s for sure. She should already be surrendering. Well, it’s nothing an alpha command can’t help. “Sakura. You’re going to come home with me, and you are going to fuck me like you love me. Then, you will be my mate. Do you understand?” He sees her eyes glaze over. Poor thing, really. Itachi would never use an alpha command on her—he’s too kind, too gentle. Shisui, on the other hand, has no problem getting what he wants when he wants it, and he wants Sakura more than he’s ever wanted anything. Then, suddenly, the glaze fades and her eyes become clear again. Her eyes widen in terror—she must actually remember the command, even though most omegas just follow what they’re ordered to, rarely recalling that it wasn’t their choice. Next thing he knows, she’s fleeing into the Naka forest, chakra that should be barely accessible to her pumping her legs faster until she’s fleeing via tree. She shouldn’t have done that. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he murmurs to her even though she can’t hear him. All alphas love the chase, and Shisui’s find that it’s enticing him rather a lot. He’s never been presented with one before but now he thinks it might be his favorite thing. He takes a deep breath, savoring her scent on his tongue. He can almost taste it. He will taste it. He knows she went into the forest because she knew she wouldn’t be able to get past him toward the compound, but she really should have just accepted her fate. He might have been gentle, even though now, as an omega who can handle that giant cock, he doesn’t see a problem with being rough. She’ll be able to take it. Might hurt a little, but she’ll be fine. Her scent will only intensify as he gets closer. With his body flicker technique, he’ll be able to catch up to her in seconds, and then he can take her exactly as he wants. But where’s the fun in that? She’s the one who asked for a chase. Mind twisted—and made up—he pursues her into the forest. The first body flicker gets him within forty feet of her. She shows no sign of knowing he’s there, though she’s running at full tilt nonetheless. Trying to circle around him back to safety, he assumes. The moment he lays eyes on her, he flickers a tree in front of her a catches her in his arms. “Surprise,” he says cheerfully, eyes gleaming playfully. She screams, and he can’t help but drag her into a rough kiss. She whimpers and he plunges his tongue into her mouth, gripping the hair on the back of her head to manipulate her in whatever way he wants as he thoroughly invades her mouth. She struggles valiantly, twisting and writhing, but all it does is excite him more. A hand moves down and take a loose grip on one of her pert breasts. He can barely feel it with her heavy jacket on, so he decides that has to go. Pushing her away briefly, he rips the jacket along the zipper where it’s weakest and yanks it off her. “Shisui!” Sakura begs. “Stop!” He pulls her back into the kiss, groaning at her delectable taste and holding her tighter. He feels tears touch his cheeks from hers but can’t find it in himself to care. Still, as he gets a better grip on her breast, rubbing his thumb across her nipple and feeling it peak in no time, this wasn’t much of a chase. She can do better. So he swings her around on the branch and releases her. “Try again,” he murmurs breathlessly. Tears scorch down her cheeks, her lips swollen and red from his passionate kiss. He almost doesn’t want to let her run again, but he convinces himself it’ll be better this way. You only get one first heat, after all. Not that he can’t repeat his chase scene another time, even after they’re mated. It’s too fun. Sakura is running before he even says the second word. Good girl. He waits, letting her get a bit of a head start. He’ll catch her no matter what, so he’s not worried about how far she’ll go. No matter what, she won’t make it to help before he catches her for good. As he waits, he gets the idea that he can really let out some of his sadism, which all shinobi possess to some degree, even if they don’t start out with it. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing someone who’s trying to kill you die. Obviously, he’s not going to kill his Sakura, but— It’s time to catch up. He body flickers a couple of times in her direction, deliberately giving her more time. Then he goes by casual tree-hopping, gulping down her scent as he gets inevitably closer. Shisui finds her curled up on the ground, actually, trying to hide in the brush, but that’s not going to help her. She’s whimpering loudly, almost mewling, and from scent along, she’s gushing slick. Must be cramping badly, too, if she decided to hide instead of keep running. Landing lightly, he pokes his head through the thicket and says, “Boo.” Sakura shrieks and immediately rolls away to her feet. Her pants are drenched with slick almost down to the knee. Gods, he wants her. But she can handle a little more. Tears still rolling steadily, Sakura pleads, “Stop, Shisui, please. Take me to I-Itachi. Please! Stop this!” “Try again,” he repeats. Then, helpfully, “I’ll give you ten minutes. If you can evade me for that long, I’ll take you to him.” Her dazed eyes clear a little at the mention of his cousin and she bolts, this time in a different direction, towards the compound. Of course. His instincts roar at her desire to be with someone other than him, but, well, that was just bait. He’d never actually let her succeed. This time, he follows more closely. Doesn’t want to give her any chance. She’s panting now, hard, and he can see her weakening, clutching her belly tighter and tighter and hunching over more and more. He flickers right next to her as she lands on the new branch. “Too slow,” he says delightedly. Sakura screams. Shisui caresses her shoulder briefly as she passes by him, almost fumbling her next landing, then shooting off a different direction than him. He follows her, fascinated as she tries to create false trails. After the second one, he flickers in front of her, catches her, and shoves his hand between her thighs again, this time under the waistline of her pants. Even hotter, even more delicious. “You should just give in,” he murmurs into her ear. “Never,” she snarls, but she doesn’t sound so confident even as she wrestles herself away. He allows it graciously. She pushes off again, not trying to lay false trails anymore but gunning to get out of the forest. After all, his deal is moot if she can get help from someone else. Anyone in the clan would side with Itachi over him; no one wants to piss off the next clan head, not when Fugaku is planning to relinquish the position to him the moment he mates. Old man’s been wanting to retire for a while. He continues to harass her, flickering in and out of her vision as she runs, some times giving her hope and others making her wilt even more in resignation. But he gives her nine minutes and fifty-four seconds—he lets her really hope, despite reality, that she might reach her goal and go home with the man she loves. Well, she can learn to love Shisui, too. It’s not like he’s ever going to let her leave his house once they’re mated. He has to protect his treasure, his love. Finally, just as he watches hope bloom in her eyes, thinking it’s really going to happen, he flickers close, tackles her, and drags her down to the forest ground in a controlled manner. He doesn’t want to hurt her. “No!” she shrieks, thrashing, as he forces her onto her stomach. “Shh, shh,” he coos, ripping her shirt open at the back. He’s impatient now. The chase, the hunt, no matter how pointless for her, has his cock aching with desire. He still takes time to massage her breasts after flipping the bra up over them, tweaking and pinching her nipples despite Sakura trying to twist away. She might be fighting him, but her peaks are hard not only from the cold. Her pants are a lost cause from her arousal, even if he wasn’t going to rip them off her; they’re drenched. “Stop, stop, stop!” she chants, attempting to buck him off. The pressure against his cock has him hissing, and he decides to give an alpha command another shot. “Lay still,” he emphasizes, intentionally injecting as much authority into it as he can. Sakura goes still. Thank the Gods. He only wants her writhing in pleasure, not fear and pain. This allows him to remove the rest of her clothes and unzip his pants and pull them down a bit. It’s cold; they’re not both going to be naked. It’s just necessary for Sakura, or so he tells himself. Shisui props her hips up, leaving her face pressed into the pines needle coating the forest ground and aligning himself with her. Gods, he wants, needs to be inside her, now. He’s just pressing his head in, barely even penetrating, when Sakura somehow once again shakes off the alpha command and jolts away. Unprepared for the fight, his grip is too loose and she manages to crawl a few feet forward before he grabs her again. This time, he really makes her back arch when he pulls her hips up. “Stop,” he tries again. She stops for barely a second, then starts jerking again. He’s just going to have to convince the omega inside her to accept him. He doesn’t expect her to be a virgin, but this will be her first knot, and that’s more important anyway. Taking her hips and digging his fingers into them to keep her still, hard enough to leave bruises, he starts pushing in again. “No,” she begs; not screaming, just begging. “Please, I’m—I’m a—” Shisui slows down. He doesn’t want to hurt her, really. “You’re a what?” he says, more impatiently than he’d intended. “I’m a-a v-virgin,” Sakura whimpers. That’s surprising, but it shouldn’t matter too much with how she can masturbate with a cock bigger than his. “You can take me,” he reassures her. Technically, she’s probably felt him, but she’s never actually seen him. “If you can take that toy, this won’t hurt.” Sakura freezes and she twists her head as far to the back as she can to make shocked eye contact. “What are—what are you talking about?” she squeaks. “That toy you bought,” he reminds her. “The neon blue one.” Her eyes widen. “You—you saw? But—” Then she gathers herself. “That was a gag gift for my friend! She’s an omega!” Hope renews in her eyes. “Please, I’ll never—it’ll never fit—you have to—” This is a surprise to him, too, though he really should have considered it before with how she was giggling. Still, he can’t be blamed. What else would he have thought, realistically? “You’re an omega now, Sakura. You can take a lot more than you think,” he says, still trying to be reassuring. She wails, then screams for help. It’s a wonder she hasn’t tried this before, but it chokes off to a whimper and she tries to curl into herself. Heat cramps really are a bitch. But he can’t have any of that. Someone will hear, and someone will come. Mind moving fast, he grabs her torn panties and, yanking her up by the back of her neck, he stuffs them in her mouth. “Sorry, but you have to stop,” he says, wishing she wasn’t able to resist alpha commands. It’s very, very rare, and it’s probably because she presented so late. She's such a little record-breaker, his Sakura He should be kind and give her an orgasm before going in, but quite frankly he can’t wait any longer. Besides, he wants her first orgasm as an omega to be on his fat, aching cock. So regardless of her efforts, her muffled begging, Shisui spreads her puffy lower lips and aligns himself once more. Slick pours out from them, coating him. No objections this time; she’s just crying quietly. Her eyes are open though, and he can see the reluctant desire in them even though she won’t look at him. Sakura’s not going to be a typical omega by any means. Maybe that means it’s okay if she’s Shisui’s and not Itachi’s. Not that it’d change anything anyways. The head of his cock breaches her and she stiffens. He groans, already entranced with her wet heat, and keeps pushing. Sakura whines, high-pitched and distressed. As an alpha, he should be disturbed by any omega in distress, especially one he intended to take as his own. He should seek out to help them, like he had earlier. If it had been anyone but Sakura, none of this would be happening. But yeah. He’s lucky this way. Shisui grunts, sweat building on his upper lip as her heat envelops him, both resistant and welcoming. Her plush walls stretch around him, massaging his girth in a way that sends a shiver down his spine. Sakura really is a virgin, and she really hasn’t ever used that toy. Maybe any toy, with how tight she is. It takes more pressure than he’s used to in order to bottom out, but once he’s seated, both of them moan and even though she’s crying, Sakura is clearly no longer distressed. “Good girl,” he murmurs into her ear. He’s curled his body over hers, not just to keep her down but to feel every inch of her. He feels a gush of slick. He’s not surprised she has a praise kink, but he is going to take full advantage of it. “Mm, so tight,” he groans as he starts to thrust slowly, a gentle pull and a hard push. She jolts with his hips and mewls every time his bottoms out, filling her fully. At his words, her hips buck back against his, encouraging not only the words but the pleasure. “If that’s what you want, my good girl,” he says, picking up the pace. “I'll give you anything you want. Anything for you.” It’s a lie, but she doesn’t have to know that. Soon, he’s pounding into her like one of his fantasies, though none of them took place in a forest. She’s whining and whimpering, hips meeting his to the best of their ability as she trembles violently. Sakura isn’t crying anymore, which is a relief. Instead, her velvety walls are tightening around his cock, sucking him in viciously like she wants his cum now. She’s moaning constantly, and he thinks she’s going to scream probably too loudly when she comes, even with the panties. He doesn’t mind. “Please, more—more—more—” she pants, meeting his thrusts. He can actually make out the words and almost wants to take out the panties. “Such a good girl, begging for my cock,” he pants back, just as breathless. He’s never had such good pussy, and he’s glad he’s already decided she’ll be his. He’ll never get used to how good she feels; every time will be just as perfect as the first time, he can already tell. “Is my good girl gonna come?” he asks, thrusting brutally now. Her hips still, unable to keep up, and she resorts to desperate cries and unintelligible pleas. Tears running down her cheeks—from pleasure this time—he feels his knot swelling. It’s almost time. He hopes she doesn’t get pregnant, but they’ll deal with it as it comes. It’s not like breeding isn’t the entire purpose of an omega heat, but he can hope. “Are you ready for my knot, sweet girl? Are you going to take it like a good omega?” Sakura nods frantically, crying, her fingers digging into the ground to ground herself. Shisui doesn’t want that. He releases her hips, certain that her hips will stay against his and they do, and reaches to grab her hands from the dirt and entwine her fingers with his. This close, he can hear her chanting something like “alpha, alpha, alpha.” That’s his tipping point. Unconsciously releasing one of her hands, he harshly presses her hips against his tighter and— His knot slips in, she screams as she comes, and his cock spasms and viscous fluid starts to paint her insides white. His sharp, aching canines pierce her mating gland. Sakura keens, coming again so hard and for so long—at least forty-five second in which she milks his cock perfectly—that she slumps immediately after. They stay that way for a moment, Shisui determined to make his mark as big and obvious as possible. He saws his teeth a little against her, which should either have her coming or crying, but there’s no response. Eventually, he deems it done and pulls his sharp canines out. “Are you done already?” he teases her playfully, even as he keeps pumping come into her, even as she moans tiredly as she comes again. He’ll get a good few more orgasms out of them both before the knot goes down. Then, he’s going to body flicker with her straight home, where they’ll fuck constantly through her heat. He hopes she has longer ones—it seems possible with her presenting so late. He can’t ever allow Itachi to find out about this. Shisui will figure out a cover story. Their friendship would be over, all of the main house would be pissed at him, and life would get a lot harder. Itachi will never forgive him if this ever comes to light, but peculiarly, Shisui feels not an ounce of guilt. Carding his fingers through his new mate’s hair gently, he notices she’s passed out. Well, it has been a rough night for her, but he’ll keep her coming anyway. After spilling more seed with a powerful shudder—really, she’s the best he’s ever had—Shisui gently turns them to the side and takes both of her hands again. They’ll be here for a while. He nuzzles his nose into her bitten gland, now his. Is Sakura worth losing everything for if they’re found out? She can resist alpha commands so he can’t make her lie or obey. He can’t command her to not escape or ask for help. He really should have given her to Itachi; she’d be perfectly suited to him and being the lady of the clan. It would have been the right thing to do—even Sakura had made it clear she wanted to be with Itachi, not him, and he could have made his cousin’s dreams come true. But honestly? Shisui is selfish. He’s the one who’s pursued her for months, even if she didn’t know it. He’s the one who found her, who chased her, who ultimately made her submit. Made her his. So really, what right does Itachi have? Shisui tugs Sakura tighter into his arms and lightly thrusts inside her until she comes again, mewling in her sleep. Yeah, it's worth it. Sakura was always meant to be his. Fin.