Heatwave: Day 6
tw: explicit content. 9k+ words. Satoru/Reader. female!omega!reader, alpha!gojo. mutual pining, light angst, YEARNING, so much yearning, PIV, heat/rut sex, minor breeding kink, choking, reader and gojo are switches, gojo is kind of a masochist. intense bickering. you and gojo are both pathetically whipped and in love, and i do mean pathetic
Prompt: Mating cycles are as violent as they are horny, intent to kill is high.
It took some convincing to get you a position as a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High School – plenty of traditional fools in charge who thought omegas were better as childbearers than sorcerers.
But you got there. After ten years teaching in public schools, teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu High was what you'd always wanted: small classes with dedicated students who you could form real bonds with.
As a sorcerer, you had the potential to become a special grade – but your true passion was teaching, and it was a far better use of your talents to help the newest sorcerers improve.
Other teachers weren’t quite as gifted in the art of passing on knowledge. Like the special grade sorcerer no one ever shut up about, Satoru Gojo.
He was seven years younger than you – practically a student himself. But somehow, here he was, a teacher alongside you. Nepotism, maybe, combined with how obviously alpha he was – freakishly tall, well-built, and unnervingly confident, used to getting his way.
You’re not certain of his credentials as a teacher. If he has any at all.
If you were forced to guess, you’d assume Gojo had at least a PhD in pissing you the fuck off.
“Awh, c’mon now,” He’d snickered at your implication. “Like it’s hard?”
You could kill him. Actually, cross that out – you will kill him, just as soon as you’re finished riding his stupid big, fat knot to absolute oblivion.
Alphas, for all their pride, are even dumber and hornier than omegas in heat once their rut kicks into high gear and they lock their knot into someone.
You’ll choke him out then, you plan – if that doesn’t just make him roll all six eyes in exaggerated pleasure.
Gojo’s just that kind of complete and utter brat. Even if he is an alpha.
Constantly stalking you from behind, ready to throw his arms around your shoulders in some lazy half-embrace. Lording his stupid height over you, his seemingly endless youthful energy.
“Hey~” He’d drawl, leaning into you, knowing exactly how much the action exposed his scent, “How’s it going with the students? Teach ‘em any new tricks?”
You weren’t some early-twenties dewy-eyed omega; his scent didn’t have any more effect on you than a nice cologne would have. “Yes, I think today went well. They’re bright kids, I’m proud of them.”
“Oho! We should celebrate your success!” Not pleased with your response, he’d squeezed your shoulders close, enough that you couldn’t walk away. “Drinks on me! Let’s head out~”
“Hitting on older women?” You’d returned, shrugging him off so you could walk away, “What, have you successfully repulsed every potential mate of your own age group? Quite a feat, even for you, Gojo.”
“Awh, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to show my support! I know ladies your age tend to get a lot of flak these days, especially from the higher-ups…”
It had been a pretty low blow from him, considering how much he disliked the higher-ups and tradition as a whole. Looking back, that was probably him getting desperate for some kind of reaction.
Like a fool, you’d given it to him.
Spinning, whipping around to tuck your finger beneath his chin, just tickling at his neck, inches from his scent glands.
“Ladies my age don’t go for boys like you, Satoru-kun,” you purr, snatching his chin and pulling his pretty face closer to yours, “And I’ll have you know, I have no interest one-night stands.”
He grins that awful, gorgeous grin with those pretty sparkling eyes. “Now when did I say I wanted anything like that? You’ve got a dirty mind there. I just wanted to get drinks.”
“When did I say you did?” You hold his gaze like you would the leash of a particularly disobedient dog. “I was just letting you know. But since you just want to get some celebratory drinks, I’ll ask Shoko and Nanami to come along.”
Heh. Transparent disappointment flashes across his face, like he’s bitten into a lemon, but he’s quick to brighten up.
“My mistake, I got a little too excited~” He follows alongside you with his stupidly long stride, hands in his pockets, “I was just soooo~ happy to hear you don’t do one-night stands. I’d get super jealous!”
This he says, right after taunting you for suggesting he wanted one? What a little shit.
“Do you also recall the part where I said I wasn’t interested in little boys?” You mutter, texting Shoko and Nanami about the meetup.
You can still feel his presence behind you. Pheromones drifting through your awareness. Gojo’s got such a weird scent for an alpha. Artificial and sour and sweet. Blue raspberry. Electric, just a whiff of it tingles. You lick your lips.
“Yeah, I heard you. Good to know my darling kohai Nanami is safe from your clutches~” He sings.
Fucking insufferable.
-
The thing about alphas was that they got aggressive when their ruts came around.
From experience you’d known his limitless could be turned on and off at will, and he could allow his scent to drift through it.
Not only was Gojo nearing his rut, he wanted you to know that he was nearing his rut. The air is oozing with his stinging, cloying scent that makes your mouth water. You have to swallow your spit a few times.
So when Gojo insisted that you spar with him, you just knew it was going to fucking suck.
He was going to use it to force unnecessary contact, shove his scent in your face, taunt and tease you while he physically prevented you from leaving.
Then, the million dollar question. Why the fuck did you ever agree to it?
Deep down, you tell yourself it’s to shut his stupid ass up. Because it’ll make for good practice, and that’s not even a lie. Or even just because he’s got a pretty face, and you want eye candy.
You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the heat you know you’re just on the verge of.
Nothing to do with the rut that has him smelling absolutely delectable.
The adrenaline that bursts through your veins as he races towards you is purely from the thrill of combat.
The exhilaration of watching his strike swing through empty air, the slight shock on his face; that’s because you’re proud of your skills.
You’re not panting, teeth bared in an awful grin, arms tightening back to grab him and hold him down, make him yours yours all yours – this is a combat stance.
Not that you wanted to fight him that badly in the first place. Feel his strikes against yours, touch that infinity for yourself. See what he’s offering, that he likes to throw it in your face so much.
It’s not any of that, and you whip out a denial for each thought as it rises like you dodge Gojo’s strikes with increasing desperation. Fast. Fast, so fast, like a blink. Here one moment, there the next.
Focus. On him. White hair, black tracksuit, that little flash of blue you’d see anywhere. You pin your senses on him, on the scent that dances in the air, tempting you. Put every fiber of your being into matching his strikes, which come faster, and faster, until eventually even you can’t dodge them.
White hair. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Pretty, pale face. Pressure down against you, breath, scent, hot in your face. Focus, focus.
Anything to take your attention from the way your thighs want to clench together when he pins you down, nose brushing against yours.
Close enough no infinity could stop you if you wanted to lean forward into the neck showing under his collar and bi-
“You goin’ easy on me?” He practically purrs in your ear. Infuriating.
So you let yourself purr back. Take in his pheromones for just a second, lean into it, relaxing underneath him as you let off an answering scent, laced with the arousal you’re already feeling. Tongue darting between your lips for a moment as you let your eyes linger on his pretty mouth, pretty face.
Gojo’s eyes dilate as your lashes flutter, tilting your lips to –
SLAM
“No,” You sing to his crumpled form, hunched over from the blow to his middle, “I think you’re easy, Gojo. Come back when you’re not a horny little beast about to rut.”
A breathy chuckle comes from him as he situates himself to sit back on his heels, catching his breath.
Unnerving. Everything about this bastard is unnerving. The way he looks up at you, face flushed, grinning with delight – you know for a fact your strike hit hard enough to bruise. Maybe he could heal it, but he was still winded from the impact. It had to hurt, still.
Instead, those too-blue eyes seem to glow at you.
“Easy, huh?” He says, and you pretend he said it to himself. “Actually, I’m pretty hard.”
(You try very hard to pretend you didn’t hear that. To pretend you couldn’t smell it the moment you struck him.)
He licks his lips, taking in a deep breath, like he caught the scent of something he can’t let escape him. Eyes staring after you.
You walk away, before he can catch on to how slick you’ve become, just with this little interaction. What are you, a teenager? Maybe you’re close to your heat, but not that close.
Gojo lets you walk.
You think he knows.
(He definitely knows.)
-
He loves to taunt you. Alphas love posturing, looking for fights, as soon as their ruts come around. But an omega nearing their heat would snap at anything that so much as breathed wrong. Ready to see everything as a threat, demanding and critical even of those closest to them.
Both secondary genders had… attitude problems during their mating cycles that led to them lashing out. But due to stereotypes, alphas were seen as being dominant and argumentative, whereas omegas were seen as…
“Awh, needy, are we? Must be your heat coming up, huh?”
“Still hitting on older women? Your rut must really have you acting like an animal. Why don’t you do us all a favor and find someone to fuck it out with?” God, just talking about it is fucking annoying.
“Not very mature of you to say, ma’am!” The look you gave him must have spoken volumes, because he immediately responded, “It’s okay, I know how it is. You don’t have to be so shy about admitting it! What omega wouldn’t want a strong, handsome alpha like me to take care of them~?”
“Kill yourself.”
Satoru Gojo had pried words from your mouth you would otherwise be horrified by. And that wasn’t even the worst of it.
The worst of it was he would try to pamper you, just like he claimed you must have needed.
And the worst of that part was that it fucking worked.
He knew all your favorite drinks, snacks, meals. Had things delivered to your desk when even his own moronic self could understand you did not want to see him – always with traces of his scent lingering on the gift.
Papers to grade? Coffee from your favorite café, just the way you liked it.
Indoor from a long training session? Something iced and fruity to sip on.
Back from a stressful mission? A dessert so delectable you double-check to see if Gojo hadn’t already taken a bite out of it himself.
“A little pick me up after all your hard work~ The students always talk about how much they love you. Trying to steal my thunder, huh? Good job, sensei!”
The words are irrationally pleasing to read. And he smells good, it always smells too fucking good, refreshing at the first hint and then invigorating the next. Sweet and sour, just like the bastard himself.
There’s little bits. A ribbon, a traditional little lunch wrapped in a handkerchief, one time he even just shamelessly sets his coat down next to a drink with another note.
“By the way, my favorite jacket got stained while getting you this. Since it’s your fault, you can dry clean it for me, right? Make sure to give it back, I’d miss it so much!”
Awful. Awful terrible man. Giving you every excuse in the book to hoard his scent and pretend you hadn’t. You could be throwing these away, for all he knows. Out of pure spite.
(He knows. He must know that you can’t throw them away, your instincts scream at you, your heat aches and burns. Each little article you get to squirrel away allows you another night of easier rest. He knows it. You know he does.)
It’s infuriating. It’s absolutely fucking infuriating because you know Gojo doesn’t mean it like that. He’s just using this to get to you. Doesn’t want anything more than to fuck the closest and most convenient hole because his rut is coming up. He isn’t pursuing a relationship with you, this isn’t courting, just teasing.
It’d amuse him, too, after. To tease you about it, probably try some weird shit in the classrooms or on missions – he’s got that air about him. Slutty. Down for anything.
It’s infuriating and it’s fucking hot. And devastating, because you meant it when you said you don’t really do one-night stands.
He’s just so unreasonably pretty that you’d thought about it when you met him. The attraction is there, on both ends, but the more you’ve gotten to know him the more certain you are that it’s a bad idea.
Gojo’s a menace already, and as fun as it was to taunt him, having sex with him would just give him more ammunition. He made everything weird.
All the teasing, the uncomfortable chemistry, the not-courting shit, and you’re in heat. Sure, you’d had casual sex before, but during your heat? Fuck that shit.
Because unfortunately, Gojo is right. You get needy.
Not because you’re an omega. It’s because you’re you.
When you spend your heat with a partner it’s like you can’t stop everything from spilling out.
The desire to know and be known in your entirety. To feel and touch and cherish every inch laid bare, to gift yourself like a sacrament to someone who you know will worship you –
See? Unbearably romantic. And you love it, you eat that shit up. It’s deep in you, a wanting you don’t even wish to deny.
The thought of waking up to an empty bed during your heat drove you mad with loathing and heartbreak. Seeing the person you’d allowed to have you in your heat touching someone else? You’d be out for blood.
Alphas get territorial. If an alpha sees someone with their partner, they’re liable to rip the interloper to shreds.
Omegas get possessive. An omega wouldn’t care about someone coveting what's theirs, but they’ll rip that partner to shreds if they suspect they have eyes for another.
It’s funny, how all that nurturing and devotion can turn so easily into equal parts cruelty and violence. To love deeply is to hate deeply, and adoration is so intrinsic to your being that you can’t help but fall hard whenever desire takes you.
You’re a needy little monster, craving love, gentleness, affection. You wouldn’t survive whatever he did after, you might not even survive baring yourself to him, letting the extent of your desire be known.
Gojo would rip your poor, tender, beating heart from your chest. Chew it up and spit it out like trash.
And he’s so, so pretty, and he smells so good, and you love the excitement of your back and forth – you adore him, this Satoru Gojo. You want him so bad you can taste it. But Gojo doesn’t feel it like you do, like a need deep in his bones that aches all the way to his dreams.
You’re seven years his senior, have no exceptional qualities, and he’s got all the options in the world. Gojo’s still so young. There’s no reason for him to want to be tied to you. If he fantasizes at all, it’s about fucking you, knotting you, not of your teeth on his neck or his own on yours.
And you shouldn’t even entertain the idea of him fantasizing about you. You shouldn’t entertain any of these thoughts, because for all the violence your love can inflict on him, Gojo is the one who would emerge unscathed. You’d be left in tatters, and he wouldn’t even have the decency not to step all over them.
You can’t sleep with him. You’ll die, you’ll surely die, it’ll absolutely feel like you’re dying to see that pretty face smile sarcastically, or sneer and turn away. You’ll awaken without his warmth beside you and it’ll feel like your heart is missing from your chest and you’ll have to be reminded of that every time you see him because you work with that fucking nuisance. At your job.
You can’t do it. You can’t. Off limits, no way.
But you’re (regrettably, unfortunately, miserably) needy when you’re in heat. And Gojo is a horny little beast in his rut.
And he knows, he knows he fucking knows. He’s there whenever you turn a corner, walk up to a vending machine, sit down to grade papers. He’s got that awful million watt smile that lights up his entire stupid pretty face when he flirts with you, trades barbs back and forth.
He’s touchy, too touchy, gets too close. Asks to spar with you again and again until you say yes. Leaves you more treats, more drinks, more little gifts the whole while.
Your hands get dry because your heat wakes you up in the middle of the night, you have to touch yourself constantly. Gojo brings you lotion that smells like raspberries (like him).
You’re not entirely sure he hasn’t fucked around and filled the bottle with lotion that’s also laced with his cum. You use it anyways. His reaction makes it obvious that he can tell you have, and he’s pleased by it.
You hate him. You hate him, and you want him. You want him so fucking bad.
You can’t do this. You can’t do it.
Gojo looks at you like he wants to eat you. Like he’s tracking every little twitch, every movement, like a predator and his prey. Like he’s waiting for you to bolt off so he can give chase.
You can’t do this.
You’re not fucking prey. You’ll bite him back, doesn’t this stupid man know?
And he spars with you again and you’re left breathless from dodging him –
(you refuse to be touched by someone who is himself untouchable)
And he smells so so so good up close when he finally tackles you, seizes you, locks your arms up from behind you –
(you love to be held, you dream of being held, in the depths of your heat it’s not being filled that comforts you it’s the thought of pressure like a vice grasping you so close, unwilling to let go)
And his face is so devastatingly beautiful up close, those terrible, magnificent eyes like a sea of stars, staring at you like he’s enraptured –
(god, he’s so pretty, just looking at him has a little dose of glee shooting through you)
And his lips taste as good as he smells –
(sweet and sour, can it really be that bad if the sting is all washed away with the tingle of sugary, electric tang on your tongue)
And he holds you so so tight so close so warm –
(you’re pulsing, aching, throbbing, and you’re so fucking tired of your own fingers and he’s grinding against you so good)
And then you’re in your room, at your door, inches away from your nest with all the shameful little bits and pieces of his scent you’ve stolen away.
(you can’t do this. this man will kill you. he will be the death of you.)
Teeth on your collarbone, huge hands clawing at your shirt, pulling it up. You look down at him, meet his fevered eyes and lust-filled gaze.
His breaths ghost over the skin he’s left wet with kisses and nips. Hungry, so hungry for you. So pretty. You grasp his pretty face with both hands and pull him up into a kiss that’s more teeth than lips.
(You’ll go out fighting.)
When his tongue darts into your mouth you nearly moan at the taste of him. Gojo groans, and he does it openly, hands wide over your ass and clenching at it. You close your teeth against his tongue, not hard, not biting. Just to feel it. Measuring the give.
Gojo nicks himself on your teeth to pull away, a sparkle in his eyes.
“Knew you wanted me.” He pants, licking over your lips, “Wanted this. Could smell you.” Lick, lick. “Taste you.”
Fuck. His eyes are wild and eager and you can smell his arousal already dripping free from him. Slotting one of your legs between his lets you press up and confirm his hardness. He moans at it, purposefully loud.
Massive. He’s massive, hard, and aching for you, so much he nearly howls at the pressure. Clawing your clothes off of you. You’re no better, yanking off his jacket, tugging his shirt up – and he lets you – tossing them into your bed.
“Look at you,” Kiss, kiss, he steals the words between presses of his mouth on your skin, like he has to breathe you and not the air, “Look at that sweet little nest. Helped you with it, didn’t I? Aren’t I just the greatest alpha?”
It’s hard, so fucking hard, to ignore how delight laces through your chest at his words. This nest, this place where you’ve languished for too long already in your heat, now an alpha (your alpha) is here and happy to fill it up (fill you up), curl up in it with you.
“You’re talking too much,” is all you dare to let yourself voice.
You seize his pants and underwear by the waistband, dragging them down his hips. Gojo stumbles, undignified, towards you, but even then, he’s tall enough to press you to fall back into the strategic mess of blankets, pillows, and your hoarded pieces of his offerings.
He’s still grinning as he pins you down. Arms on either side of you. Tall, so tall, so much larger than you. Larger than life. Your beautiful, ferocious alpha, all hard and excited just for you.
“Too bad. I love talking.” Gojo’s eyes stay trained on yours as he mouths over a breast, sucking as much of it as he can into his mouth.
“No, really? Would never have guessed.” the grumble escapes you, and he giggles.
He watches you still, tense, and try not to lean into the sensation as he plays at your nipple with his tongue, teeth. Pulls away with a pop.
You hear him kicking off what remains of his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to look down.
“I can smell your slick from here,” A hand tracing up the inside of your thigh, “Mouthwatering.”
So wet you can almost feel yourself gushing. His hands are inches away from it. Heavy, warm form bearing down on you as he moves to suck at your other breast. Teasing fingers where your leg joins to your body.
“Is that all your mouth’s good for?”
His laughter had been far too mocking to be endearing, just like his grip on your hips had been just a bit tighter than pleasant, his grin wide enough to be smug instead of sweet.
Wretched and traitorous, your heart lurches at his beautiful face, anyways.
“If you wanted me to show you,” Those blue, blue eyes never leave yours as he trails his face down your body, “You could’ve just asked, babe.”
Your hand finds its way into his hair, which is naturally as soft and pleasant to the touch as you’d dreamed it was. You clench tightly and he rumbles in approval.
“Like it rough, do you, omega?” His breathes, right over your drooling cunt. “Me, too.”
“You’d be so fucking hot,” You pant, “If you kept your damn mouth closed.”
When he laughs again, it feels a little better, but he’s always got to dig in. Pressing kisses to your clit that leave you fighting the urge to kick your legs.
“I’m always hot, baby,” God, it feels so sinful, so good, to have his exhalation ghosting over your slickness, “You’re just all antsy ‘cause of your heat. Let me make you cum, calm you down.”
This has the opposite effect of calming you down and he knew it would. Probably expected you to wrap your legs around his waist while he buried his face in your cunt, digging your heels hard into his sides, like spurs.
“Would be the first useful thing your mouth has done all year.” Gojo snickers against you and it’s annoying how good it feels.
And then he closes his lips around your clit, tongue tracing swiftly all over it, and you couldn’t stop squirming if you tried. Can’t stop the noises that come out of your mouth, spilling out, overflowing, like how the slick just pours from your clenching hole.
He fingers into you, two at once, and it’s embarrassing how little you feel it at all. Two, in and out, then a third, stretching inside you. Spreading them apart inside you. Making these awful wet noises – it doesn’t help that Gojo likes to smack his lips while he eats.
“Tasty. So wet. Did you stretch yourself for me?” He asks between laps at your clit, pressing himself closer to you while you whimper and teeter on the edge, “Got some knot toys to prep?”
“Fuck – Gojo!” Even when you’re trying to snap at him, he makes it fucking impossible, suckling at your clit before you can get the words out.
You cum with a light, airy cry. Short, shallow gasps as your other hand darts down to grasp his shoulder. Clinging.
“I will, I will,” Gojo takes a deep breath, over the wetness of you, making you shiver.
Eyes like blue flame look up at you. Sinful tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog. Licking sticky lips. “Must’ve been hard, all that time you spent waiting. Don’t you worry, I’ve got a nice big knot ready just for you.”
And god, it’s fucking terrible, how you have to suppress a shiver of delight at his words, as he crawls up your body to be eye-level with you. His cock rubs along your sex, wetting itself so easily it should be embarrassing.
It is big. It’s so big and the knot swelling at the base of it is even better, thick and pulsing and throbbing.
Your stupid horny omega brain wails at the prospect of finally, finally being filled up by something hot and pulsing and living. Strong enough to hold you down and breed you. He’d give you the prettiest kids.
Oh god, oh fuck. Omega brain is seizing the steering wheel right now and you’re fucking terrified of where it’ll take you. You have no idea what you’re going to do when he knots you.
And he WILL fucking knot you if you have to mount and ride him yourself.
He’s grinning. Your instinct screams at you to bite. “I could smell it on you just now, you know. You want me to knot you soooo bad.”
You return his smile with bared teeth, “You want to knot me so bad, Gojo.” You’re still oversensitive when you grind your cunt against him but it’s worth it to see his stupid jaw drop open, “It makes you look fucking stupid.”
Pretty, pretty. He’s so pretty you could cry, and his cock is twitching against you, wet and burning and ready.
“Shut up,” Gojo breathes, close enough for you to smell his tingling scent on his breath, “And take it.”
A snarl builds in your throat, climbs on your lips – only to be knocked away thoroughly by the feeling of his fat head nudging, hot and swollen at your entrance. You’re so slick it feels almost gummy against you.
He drives himself in and you bite back a scream. Instead you let your hands claw down his back, and when they’re far enough down you just reach up to his shoulders again and dig your nails in harder.
The scrape at your fingertips, the way the smooth flesh of his back yields to yours – rough and savage enough to leave his eyes wide and gleaming.
His cock driving into you is like velvet, warm and wet and welcoming, filling an ache that makes you want to cry out.
There’s a stretch, because he’s big, of course he’s fucking huge but it’s the delicious type of stretch, a tight pinch that makes you shudder and clench and pull a moan or two out of him in return.
“See?” He nips at the underside of your jaw. Close, too close, inches away from your scenting glands, licking like he wants a taste, “Just needed some cock to calm you down. Poor – poor little omega, your heat must have been really bad, huh?”
You want to kill him. You want him to fill you up up UP more and more of his cock drives into you, it’s like it’s fucking endless, his knot urges forward at your entrance and the stretch –
“This – hhgh – coming from the beast in rut,” You snarl through strangled moans, “Who’s been throwing himself at me like an animal?”
Your hand in his hair trails down, over the back of his neck, and his whole body jerks at the touch. You’re no better, straining beneath him, talking out loud so you don’t lose your mind as his knot slides home.
“Did you think of me while you fucked your hand, Gojo?” Dangerous territory. Dangerous thoughts. “Did you think about what I’d do to you? About me putting you on your ass while sparring because my scent turned you into a slut?”
He groans, long and laborious. You feel his knot lock in, his head thrown back (neck bared, pretty, pale, so empty and open) as he whines out his release.
It spurts inside you, hot and swelling and heady enough to bring you to a second release as his pelvis grinds against your clit.
“So what if I did?” There’s a challenge in his eyes, bright and sky blue and heart-rendingly beautiful in his blissed out state.
Something churns in your chest, something feral and wanting and you should know better but you can’t stop it now –
“Always think of me,” the demand leaves your lips before you can think of it, “You’ll always think of me when you touch yourself now, Gojo, you won’t be able to cum without it.” Before you know it, you’re purring, both from the afterglow and the words you’ve spoken with such misplaced confidence.
He thrusts lightly into you, a short useless movement which just makes you both more aware of his fat, swollen knot as it pumps his cum into you. Gojo purrs back at you, a warm rumble you can feel all throughout his form pressed against yours. His face against your chest, rubbing it – scenting you.
Your arms curl around him. Hold him close. “Never think of anyone else. Only me.”
The only response is louder purring. It’s painfully pleasant, comfortable, with the length of him pressed against you, his knot buried inside of you.
His eyes are half-lidded, dragging his parted lips over your skin. It’s too lazy and slow to be called a kiss, but the intimacy of It burns a trail across your skin. He licks at your neck in broad strokes and you mindlessly loll your head to the side, baring it for him.
Both of you content in the silence, sated by your climaxes. The first of many. A lull where you lie locked together so perfectly, enjoying the sinful trickles of his cum filling you up while his knot slowly deflates.
Naturally, Gojo can only let a good thing last so long.
“Never think of anyone else, huh?” His voice is unbearably smug, and smooth, and all things lovely. “Possessive and needy. What were you going to do if I hadn’t pounced on you?”
It takes you a moment to respond, disgruntled, “Next time you made an ass of yourself while sparring I would’ve just bitten you.”
A laugh; breathless and light. “I thought you didn’t like younger men?”
“A knot is a knot.” You clench around him a bit, just to drive your point home. It makes him spurt a little more into you, scalding hot. He hisses, face flushing.
He’s pretty like this. Then again, he’s always pretty.
“Yeah?” He leans in with glittering eyes, already recovered. “Bet you like my knot best. Bet you won’t want any other after this.”
You already don’t. You love the feel of him inside you, how he fits like a glove, how his knot fills you to bursting. It’s still inside you and you already want to feel it again. You already want him to be yours. All yours, only yours and yours forever.
But this is your asshole coworker who bickers with you, not your fucking boyfriend.
“I want another alpharight now,” You roll your eyes, like saying it would make it real, “A quieter one.”
“Heh.” His smile is as loud as his eyes. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t let me so much as lick you if you weren’t already thirsting your brains out for me.”
God, are you that transparent? Or can he see through lies with the six eyes, too?
You push yourself upwards – not easy because Gojo’s laid his uselessly long torso against your chest – and the knot’s still mostly lodged in you but there’s enough give for you to push him back until you’re sitting on his lap.
Gojo is leaned against you, resting his body weight against you as he purrs like a careless, cuddly cat.
He doesn’t even flinch when you cup his face between your hands. Lazy, relaxed, content inside you.
“You have a lot of cheek for a brat who got hard after I knocked the wind out of him.” You tilt your head to the side. “Or maybe that’s what you’re hoping for on round two?”
And oh god. This guy can’t be for real. His knot has barely gone down enough to pull out and you feel him twitch inside you, hardening again. You pull him out with a twist of your hips and he actually whines.
He licks his lips. “What do you think?”
His cock flops against you again, hard, ready to go. You let out an incredulous laugh. “I called you a horny beast, I didn’t think you were actually some kind of – breeding whore.”
“Mmmh,” Large hands dart to hold your ass, pulling you closer, “Maybe I am. You’ll let me fuck you, though, so I must be doing something right.”
As dirty talk goes, you could do way better. But it looks like Gojo is just that easy – his scent deepens with excitement, electric on your tongue.
Mouthwatering. Stinging. It reaches deeper into you than you’d like, pulls out an answering tug of longing that spills over your lips before you can stop it.
Hands on his shoulders, over those pretty collarbones, shoving him back. It’s so easy; he falls back for you without resistance. Staring up at you through lowered lashes like an actual seductress.
Satoru Gojo is heartrendingly beautiful, above you or beneath you. It drives you mad.
“Tell me,” You want you want you want, “Tell me how badly you want to fuck me.” Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me. Tell me you’re mine and you’ll never be anyone else’s.
“You said it yourself,” Gojo breathes, “I’m a whore, yeah? A beast in rut, throwing myself at you.”
“Why me?” Tell me I’m the only one who could ever satisfy you. He might be a dumb horny whore of an alpha, but your omega brain is equally delirious for feeding into this delusion. Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me.
His smile is lazy, eyes glimmering, and you get a terrible intuition that he knows exactly what you’re asking, exactly what you want. And he’s not going to give it to you.
“Knew you could keep up.” He answers with a distinct ring of mockery. Fucking brat.
Wrong answer. Wrong. Answer.
Your hands jump to his throat. Squeezing instinctively. Like you can rip the words out of him, the voice that lights every fiber of your being on fire, in all the worst ways. And his neck feels so perfect under your hands. Like it was always meant to be there.
"Wanna bite?" He mouths, somehow smirking at you before his mouth drops into an "O" – you’re grinding against him, hard and careless of his overstimulation.
Those pretty blue irises shrink and dilate wide, shimmering with tears. His face is so pale, lashes such a pretty white that the red on his cheeks stands out all the more painfully. A moan of pleasure ripples under your fingertips, squandered in your grasp.
God, he really is a whore, isn’t he? So eager in front of you, dick out, lashes fluttering, throwing himself at you. Teasing you with his scent, his little gifts. Letting you see him like this. How could he let you see him like this, if he didn’t want to be yours?
Would he be so pathetic and needy for anyone? It sends rage through you, white-hot and yearning. All you can see is him, him, Gojo in all his debauched glory beneath you.
Ruin him. Ruin him for anyone else. Yours, yours, all yours. So much that he can never think of anyone else, like you can only think of him.
You squeeze harder, like you can pull his treacherous, perfect voice out if you can just press hard enough into his singing pulse. Close, close, so fucking close, the pull inside you draws you over his cock, up and down, rubbing against your throbbing clit.
His cock twitches in time with it as you grind away. Blood rushing in your ears, pounding. You’re close. He’s close. He’s going to cum. He’s going to cum outside of you.
Just as Gojo’s eyes squeeze shut, his cock jumping against you – you pull your cunt off, leaving no more stimulation. You don’t release your hold on his throat, hips guided purely by instinct, slotting him against your entrance.
“Don’t you dare,” You hiss, feeling his pulse flutter, “You don’t cum unless you’re inside me. Never.”
Eyes shooting wide to look up at you. His lips part, desperate, passionate, heavy with words that he doesn’t have the air for.
You don’t want to hear it. He’s said enough.
You ride him like you hate him - to be fair, you kind of do.
Slamming down on his dick, just short of his knot. Hunched over him so you can still choke him while you fuck him, see his stupid face contort in shock and bliss as his cock is suddenly enveloped.
His sweet-sour scent practically stings your tongue, heavy with arousal, with lust, with want –
He fills you up so fucking good, he’s infuriating, he’s huge, he’s perfect and why isn’t he yours? Everything inside you screams and all you know is the stretch in your core, the burning need.
So close so close you're almost THERE –
Panting, gasping, you bear yourself down on his knot with a wail, squeezing his neck like a stress toy. It makes him pulse and throb inside you.
Fuck fuck FUCK -
The STRETCH, it fucking burns, Gojo is writhing underneath you. It's like he's bigger than he was last time.
His hands aren’t at his throat but on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, adding to all the weight that pulls you against him. Tight, hot, so, so fucking big.
“My knot,” You pant, half-feral with desire, “This is my fucking knot, Gojo, my dick, you don't put this in anyone else, do you hear me, ALPHA?"
There’s a rumble in his neck where he might be trying to answer you, but you ignore it in favor of bearing down on him. It's like all your breath leaves you in one big gasp, a whine escaping you as you finally pop the knot in.
You squeeze yourself, impossible, tight, feeling your whole cunt scream with the effort, the delicious stretch of a muscle pushed to its limit. You have him, you have him, you have him in you, all yours. Your core finally surges towards release at the feeling of being filled.
And then you look down at what you’ve captured, your alpha, teary-eyed, red-faced, eyes glazed over in bliss as his lips part to take a breath he can’t manage.
Cock burning inside you, hips bucking up, hands clutching you like a lifeline. Hands so uselessly large that his thumb can reach to roll over your clit.
All at once, you let go. Climax overwhelming you both, his first gasping breath painted with the sudden release.
You want to see his face while you do it, collapsing forward as your breath is stolen from you in waves of white-hot pleasure. Gojo lets out a high pitched noise that he probably shouldn’t be capable of, choking, crying.
“F-fuck,” He half-chokes, half-sobs, racing to clutch you to his chest.
You’ve never seen him so uncomposed, so helpless, your name on his lips, the six eyes blown wide and unseeing. Heat floods your insides as he releases, knot swelling impossibly larger. A squeak escapes you, and you press the side of your face into his toned chest as he holds you close.
You’re smaller than him – most people would be. It’s funny, feeling smaller in his arms. All the fight and fervor trickles away, slowly, like it’s making room for his cum.
Something terribly dark and feral inside you wants to rut against him and make him whimper more, now that he could hear it, but you don’t have the strength.
“Surprised you didn’t bite me,” He muses while he traces mindless patterns over your bare back.
“For what conceivable reason would I have bitten you during that?” His chest is warm, so warm. You’re not paying much attention to what you’re saying, just lazily snapping back at him for stating the obvious. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I literally choked you.”
“Hell yeah you did.” He rubs his cheek against your hair. “It was super hot. Do it again.”
Idiot. You try to ignore the hunger his words ignite inside you, the stupid glee you get from the thought that he likes it just as much as you do. “What, do you want me to bite you?”
“As hot as it would have been to see you take what you want,” God, his grin is just so annoying, and it makes your heart skip a beat, to see that fire in his eyes, “You’d probably feel all bad about it later or some crap. Like you trapped me or something. Which would be super hot, by the way. You have my permission to trap me at any time, especially if I’m sticking my dick in you.”
“Well, now I don’t want you at all,” You lie, blatantly, like a liar.
Satoru snickers, which really isn’t good for your heart. “What, because I’m such a kinky whore, you think I’ve been all used up already? Should I give myself some bruises and hickey sometime to really sell the fantasy?”
That gets an eye roll. “I didn’t degrade you enough while we were fucking, is that it? Had to pick up some slack yourself?”
“Heheh. You sure liked calling me a whore and a slut.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “What can I say, I’m just that good a lay. Always give the lady what she wants.”
“Sure.” And yet you still don’t have what you want from him.
“You’re the only person I’ve fucked like this, you know.” He says, more softly than he should.
It’s just so unfair. How he makes your heart stumble. How his little admission sends a trill of hope through you.
“Fucked how? During your rut?” He didn’t seem like the type to grin and bear the suffering.
“You know,” He shuffles again, “Like this. For fun.”
“What, I’m the only person you’ve let call you a whore? Choke you? Be more specific, Gojo,” The name tastes bitter in your mouth, “All the other times you just had to lie back and think of England?”
“Well, you’re the first person who’s fucked me that also called me Gojo, for one.”
He really has to ruin everything. “Just shut up. Nothing you say makes me feel better.”
Arms wrap tighter around your waist. “I mean it, though. I was looking forward to this. I never look forward to it. Letting down my technique, fucking some omega until I knotted them.”
You want to bite him, take a chunk out. Pull his hair and rip some of it out of his stupid empty skull. “Gojo –”
“No, listen.” And that’s a tone you haven’t heard before – low, commanding, an alpha’s demand. He hadn’t spoken to you like that once.
“I used to hate it, dread it. The long wait for my knot to go down before I could finally just leave and put everything back up again. Being stuck with some stranger in such an intimate position, feeling them touch me, it was the worst. The absolute fucking worst.”
He nuzzles his head into your neck, like he’s basking in your scent. “This, though? This is the best. I want to do this for every rut, forever.”
Another skipped beat, and that’s it. Your foolish, graceless heart can only drag you through so much humiliation and pining before you rip it out and stomp on it yourself.
“So what?” You lower your voice in return, hard and cutting, “Who says I want to spend all your ruts with you, Gojo?”
“Thought you didn’t do one-night stands.” He smirks at you. You want to punch him.
“What did you think this was?” Did he think you were pining for a relationship while he was just fucking it out? Sure, you were pathetic enough to want it, but you weren’t pathetic enough to expect it. Not on your fucking life.
But then.
There’s the answer, the “A public service for needy omegas~” or some other witty retort. You can already hear his voice ringing in your ears, playful and taunting.
But the sound doesn’t come. Nothing comes at all. Complete silence.
Gojo’s lean, muscled form has stiffened, now rigid against you where it had been relaxed. You can feel his hesitance rippling through the air. His scent is more sour than sweet. Spoiled.
“I thought… you wanted me.” You’ve never heard him sound so uncertain, so afraid. You’ve never heard Gojo sound afraid, period. “I was courting you, and you accepted my gifts, so I – ”
“When were you courting me?” You snap, even though you make the connection instantly. He had given you gifts. He’d spend time with you, given you something with his scent. Paid attention to your needs.
“This whole time?” He sounds like he’s starting to panic, now, “What did you think was happening? We’ve been flirting literally since the day I met you! I might not be the most traditional guy, but I got the important parts down!”
It doesn’t sound real, for Gojo to be freaking out like this. He turns you around so you can see his blue eyes, wide and wild with frustration, “Why did you think I gave you things with my scent and spent every spare hour in close quarters with you?”
“Because they were always accompanied with snarky remarks? Because you taunt me at every opportunity?” You say it straight to his face. “We literally insult each other every time we meet.”
“You like it, you tease me back!” He grouses, “You’re super into that, you fucked me anyways!”
“Yeah. I thought that was all you wanted.” You swallow. “You’re supposed to ask someone to court them, Gojo.”
“Of course you wanted me to court you. You seduced me when I pinned you down and then knocked me on my ass!”
You’re upset with him and all, but he’s just got this infuriating ability to make you laugh no matter what. “Most people would take that as a no.”
He’s smiling back. Beaming. His scent is clean, like just hearing you laugh made it all better, “But your answer isn’t a no. You li~ke~ me.”
“Not so much right now.” You look away. “So, what? I’m just a fool for not knowing what you wanted, when you never even told me?”
“I thought it was obvious.” You can hear the frown in his voice. “You’re a pretty proud person. What did you think I was doing when I gave you all those gifts?”
“You literally told me I was being needy. I figured you were mocking me.”
“But then why did you accept them?” His tone, laced with something awful in his scent, brings your gaze back to his face.
He looks kind of… heartbroken.
You can’t look at him long. “Because… I am needy.”
His arms reach up from your waist, cradling your back, pulling you against him. Chin tucked where your shoulder meets your neck. Face buried in your scent glands, just where he’d put a bite. If he – if he wanted you.
“When you finally admitted it, I thought I’d feel glad.” He sounds like he’s complaining, but your neck is wet. “You just have to steal away all my victories, huh? Can’t even let me win this one.”
Why is he acting so pathetic, like a wounded puppy, when you’re the one who admitted to being down so bad you’d accept even mockery from the person you wanted to get with?
And then he sniffles, like some teenage girl who just got dumped. “I thought you knew I liked you. I thought we were having fun. Teasing each other.”
“It was fun, that’s why I did it. I just…” You swallow. “I didn’t think it would mean anything more for you. You know by now that I – I like you a lot. Way more than normal. There is nothing normal about how much I want you. I didn’t think you wanted me the same way.”
“That’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever heard. You didn’t know I wanted you back?” There’s more wetness on your neck, but this is warm. The familiar touch of his tongue dragging over your scent glands.
Gojo takes a shuddering breath, and it occurs to you that he must be taking in your scent. “How could you even think that?”
“Why are you so upset?” His whining brings you back to life, just a little. Enough to be angry. “For – for fuck’s sake already, Gojo. Say it in as many words. I told you, the whole reason I thought so was because you never told me what you meant outright.”
Another sniffle. “You’re so mean. You know what courting is. You just like bullying me.”
His sniveling revitalizes you further. It’s easier, knowing he can be pitiful for you, too. “Say it, Gojo, or you’ll be just another notch in my belt.”
“And call me Satoru! How are we supposed to date if you don’t even call me by name?!”
“We’re not dating. Say it, say it right now,” You’re getting sick of his crap, “Or I will rip your dick off.”
You can hear it, again. Is that a promise? Just wait until I’m hard to do it.
And you can see it, actually, how it physically pains him not to say it.
Gojo says your full name, out loud, and you’re helpless at the sound. “I have romantic feelings for you. I would like to court you with the intention of marriage. Mating. Whatever.”
He just can’t let you win one, can he? And yet, you’ve never heard a better sound. It feels like a massive burden has been lifted from your shoulders. Your chest.
“Two full sentences of formality,” You muse, “Impressive.”
“Right?” He preens, “Lots of things about me are impressive. You’ll see while we’re courting.”
“You never fail to impress me with how much of a dumbass you can be, Gojo.”
“Satoru. And that’s not a yes. Hurry up and say yes! I know you wanted to bite me back there, you’re totally crappy at hiding it.”
You sigh. “I did. But you didn’t want to bite me, did you?”
A pause. You’re suddenly uncomfortably aware of how close his face is to your neck.
“I always want to bite you. Ever since I met you. Smelled you.” His tongue runs along your throat, so hot it almost feels like it burns. “You can’t tell because you’ve never seen a version of me that doesn’t want to sink my teeth into your neck.”
You swallow, and he purrs, kissing over your pulse.
“It’s okay, though. I can be generous.” And his voice is back to being annoying again. “Even when you’re so demanding. I can only jerk off to you, I can only stick my dick in you – gosh, you said not to cum unless I was inside you, right? You really signed yourself up for – ”
“Oh, fuck off, Gojo – ” You interrupt yourself, “ – Satoru. Are you sure you want to… I mean. I’m older than you, you know? By a lot. I don’t have some kind of pedigree, and – well, I mean. You know.”
You flush despite yourself, “I’m… demanding, I guess. I like to bully you, if you want put it that way.” He laughs. “I’m sure you have better prospects.”
“Yeah,” A hand reaches up to stroke your hair. He pulls you so your face is pressed into his chest, so you can hear him purr for you. Loudly, now. “That’s why I’m courting you, first. Until you’re sure you’re my best prospect. Then I’ll mark you. Then you can mark me, and not even feel a little bit bad about it, after.”
It’s scary, you think, as the darkness creeps into your vision – just how accurate his prediction of you was. “You don’t think I’m… too needy?”
“I love that you’re too needy.” A kiss to the top of your head, “You look at me like I’m the thing you want the most you want in the whole world. Makes me crazy, how much you want me. I want you to bite me. Eat me whole. I want to open up my chest and shove you inside.”
A breath leaves you, mostly because he’s holding you too tightly. Just tight enough. “So you like that I’m obsessed with you. But do you like me?”
“Yeah,” He sighs, rubbing his cheek into your hair affectionately, “So much it’s kind of scary. You’re all I can think about most of the time. I would look forward to slipping you a little present all day. Then I’d get hard after watching you open it, and I’d have to rub one out. You have no idea how happy it makes me, just being near you.”
You’re quiet for a bit. All you can hear is his gentle purring, rumbling through his body and yours.
One of your hands finds one of his. “…you’ll be mine? My one and only? You won’t ever want anyone else?”
He squeezes. “Just you. You should be more worried about becoming my one and only. If I can’t jerk off or fuck anyone else, that’s all gonna be on you, baby.”
“I’m not particularly worried,” You yawn, “If you get to be too much, I’ll just choke you out again or something.”
You feel him start to twitch inside you, knot still stuck in your entrance – no way. He can’t be hard this soon, not when he hasn’t even finished –
“Hehe. Shouldn’t have said that unless you wanted to go again~!”
“Satoru!!”