Chapter Text
Shoko already noticed it was coming days ago. She’s not quick to get annoyed over the trivialities of being a physician. Difficult patients with different thresholds of pain were generally part of the job, but when her nerves started grating over a patient she was stitching— complaining whilst flinching every half of a second, she already knew it was nearing that time of the month.
By this time she would’ve already taken her pills, blocking out her hormones from spiraling out of control. This is the reason why despite her being one of the only few healers in the jujutsu world, the higher-ups were still hesitant in having her work here. Not to anyone’s surprise, most sorcerers are alphas. She almost thought it’s mandatory to be one. Of course they would be, most already think they’re better than everyone else.
Being an omega was trouble for this world. Omegas are predisposed to be physically challenged and Jujutsu technical college is no place for the weak. But her technique was just too precious to pass out on, so they let her stay. On the condition that she keeps her heats at bay.
She uses suppressants and scent blockers for those but there’s no other better deterrent than Satoru Gojo. He’s harmless most of the time, until someone shoots a not so innocent look towards her way.
Another consequence of being an omega here. Fights will break out between alphas if she’s not careful. Most already have a screw loose and not all friendly towards each other. But Satoru, who stands on top of all of them, seems to have kept them on a leash.
Before he was born, hostility was always ever present between sorcerers and the clans. But after him, the one who altered the balance of the world, it seemed there was no point for more fights. He alone is the strongest, with no one to contend him against, making the Gojo clan rise through the ranks after three centuries. The Zen’ins were pissed, because even their big numbers and vast array of techniques can’t hold a candle against him.
Shoko pulls out her phone to send Satoru a message. “It’s starting again.” She hovers over the send button for a short moment before tapping it. She shouldn’t even be hesitating when he was the one who offered this arrangement in the first place. It all started six months ago, when her heat had hit her pretty hard, feverish and inconsolable, she drowned herself in suppressants. Even her reverse cursed healing can’t keep up with the influx of hormones. She hid in one corner of the school clinic, fingers itching to relieve the tight knot inside her, but she can’t, not here, not when she’s at work. They will smell her. Her pills weren’t working. She figured she could plunge the suppressants directly into her bloodstream. Clutching at her lower stomach she slowly walks to the medicine counter and retrieves a syringe. She pulls up her sleeve and administers the suppressant, releasing a shaky breath. It took ten minutes for the effect to manifest, but she was given an hour of peace. No fever, no heat, no wanting to claw at her skin. But that didn’t last long, and she had to administer a second dose that also only lasted for an hour and another after that. She knew the cautions of taking intravenous heat suppressants by heart. One of which is to not have more than three doses a day, but her shift was nowhere near finished so she takes a couple more doses. She was on her sixth dose when she blacked out.
“Shoko! Shoko!”
“Huh?” Her blurry vision clears for the most insufferable man in her life, her closest friend, looking at her with the purest blues that have devastated people more than curses. But right now his pretty face is contorted into a panic-stricken expression. It was almost unnatural. She wanted to tease him but she couldn’t find the strength, and being held by him felt nice, he smelled so good too. It seems he just came home. She can smell fresh air and leaves on him, maybe his latest mission was in a wooded area. With the mixed scents of his sweat, perfume, and natural musk, she had half a mind to nuzzle into him. She stops herself, she wouldn’t hear the end of it if she tried to sniff him.
He sighs, looking like she accosted him. Strange, seeing that expression on him. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“What?” She pushed him away. She was going to pass out again if she spent a second longer wrapped up in his warmth.
“You overdosed on suppressants.” She sees his nose twitch and she moves farther from him, away from his scent that’s starting to put her in a haze.
“I need to get laid.” She stands, dusting herself and fixing her clothes.
“Clearly. What happened to your old med school classmate?”
“Tried to bite me.”
“The orthopedic resident?”
“Didn’t want to wear condoms because he said it ‘felt better.’”
“Yikes. And how about the pharmacist?”
“You scared that one away.”
“That man wanted to isolate you more than to take care of you. I can smell his intentions from a mile away.”
“You alphas and your freakish instincts.”
“And none of them have ever been proven false.” He smiles, pleased with himself.
Shoko shakes her head. Because of that, more people have only been more disinclined to pursue her. The mere sight of Gojo had them fleeing away to find more “accessible” omegas. His presence simply overpowers theirs. When Shoko is with another man and they get a whiff of Gojo they immediately ask if he’s her alpha, a hint of insecurity lacing their tone. She has a hypothesis that even if Gojo was a non-sorcerer, he’d still make a fine alpha. Even without his powers, he’d still be somewhat of a god among men. Which is why, being close to him so much is not a good idea. Now that he’s here, enveloping the space with his scent, all she wants is to curl up against him.
His face turns serious when he notices the change in her usual scent. “Are you going to be fine?” He’s careful not to get too close. Other alphas would’ve taken the chance to cross her boundaries just to taunt her with their scent.
Shoko ignores his question, retrieving some pills from a drawer. Gojo teleports behind her, enveloping her in his warmth and scent. Her hold on the bottle of pills falter as her breathing evens out. “I think you’ve had enough.” It takes everything in her not to swoon, not to press her back against his chest and drown herself in him.
She swallows. “It’s just a scent blocker.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not bothered by your scent.”
“But every alpha within 100 meters is going to be.”
“I’m here, they won’t be able to take one step towards you.”
Shoko sighs, hiding how she liked this protective side of him. She convinces herself it is nothing more than him being the alpha that he is, considerate and watchful of everyone in the school and her inner omega preening at his words.
“What if you pass out again and someone injured needs you?” He adds.
Shoko’s hands tremble as she puts down the bottle of pills. She’s so tired, overstimulated, and helpless. “Fine.” Just a few hours more and she can go home.
“I have an offer but promise me you won’t punch me after I tell you about it.”
“I don’t think I even have the capacity to be angry at the moment. What is it?”
“Use me for your heats.”
Shoko only raises an inquiring brow. Gojo’s relieved at how she waits for an explanation first. This personality of hers calms him and is a big factor why she has become his closest friend and confidant.
“It’s not unheard of for alphas and omegas tag teaming to relieve each other. We’re both busy people, so it’s not practical to find a new partner every time we’re dealing with our heats and ruts. It’s tiring and will take up our time. You trust me, don’t you? And I’ll take care of you. So…what if we help each other get through them every time we need to? You won’t have to deal with your chaotic heats. Treat me like your…foxhole, a safe place.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as you need me.”
Shoko figured this was bound to happen sooner or later. “Okay.”
“Wow, that easy? Okay.” The smile he gave her could very well be the deemed the eighth wonder of the world.
-
Gojo hasn’t replied to her message. He has been gone for a week, told her he was in Rome, helping with trouble in the Vatican. That was his last message. She studies their conversation thread and notices it’s full of messages from him. Sending her pictures, memes, updates to where he is or what he’s doing, while she would only text him when she needs him for her heat.
Shoko waits until her shift ends before walking to Gojo’s office. Once inside, her lungs start to breathe easy, her nose soaking up his scent in the air. In one cabinet there are a few extra clothing he stocked. For emergency travels, working out, or staying overnight here, she guesses, since the Gojo estate is far.
She takes all his clothing in one heap, hugging them to her, and lies herself on his new expensive and bigger couch that he bought after his students keep coming to his office just to try out his old chair. She sifts through the heap of clothes and finds a hoodie that she uses as a blanket. She neatly surrounds herself with his clothes to make a makeshift nest. She’s not experienced in this since she had only done this after she and Gojo started spending her heats and his ruts together, but it will have to do.
With the air heavy with Gojo’s scent, she lets her hand slip inside her pants. The craving for him swallows her whole, her mind going back to last month when he had her in his penthouse for days. Fucked her so good she swears she still feels him now. Her fingers work to recreate the feeling he gave her but it doesn’t compare. Touching herself in his office does relieve some of that heat flowing inside her.
As Shoko finishes herself for the third time she looks at the clock on Gojo’s wall—7:34pm. Where is he? Drained, Shoko drifts off. Curling into herself on Gojo’s couch and embracing his clothes to her.
-
Gojo rushes, teleporting to the school. Shoko hasn’t been answering his calls.
He appears at the morgue, but she’s not there. Not in her office or the infirmary as well. He goes out to the hallway and scents remnants of her leading to his office.
Gojo thought nothing was more heartwarming than the image of Shoko asleep with Megumi and Tsumiki in his house years ago. His alpha stirs at the memory of her taking care of his kids. Tsumiki had a fever. He and Megumi handled it, but then Megumi caught it too, so he called Shoko. They almost fought when he asked if she could give them antibiotics. He didn’t understand why she didn't want to, until she explained. Apparently it’s better for kids to let the fever pass in the long run, and told him it’s probably a mild viral infection. There’s no needed treatment for that, yet she stayed and took care of the two. Ever since then, he has always appreciated Shoko’s patience when it comes to him. How she always stays calm and collected for him. Now though, that image only comes second to Shoko all bundled up in his clothes.
He crosses the room and stands in front of Shoko. Observing her little handiwork. She has made a little nest for herself. He reaches to brush the hair on her face away. She stirs and wakes, looking up at him. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“I’m taking your clothes as an apology.”
He snorts. “Sure.” Sappy Shoko is a delight. She would never act like this if she wasn’t prisoner to her base urges. He likes it though. Shoko overexerts herself, rarely takes a break from her duties, this is the only time she can cut loose.
He dips down to kiss her and she accepts willingly. All thoughts and worries fly out the window as his scent and warmth embrace her. The heavy weight of his body against her makes her chest ache. The hardness of his body pressed on her loosens her muscles. Gojo releases the veil he places on himself, to hide the sheer power he has as an alpha. It scares people so he has been taught to mask it since he was a child. He exhales as he releases it, and Shoko moans into his mouth as she is blanketed by his energy.
Gojo angles his face for a deeper kiss, easing a soft sound from Shoko. She can smell a light coat of sweat on him. Pair that with his light powdery scent and the smell of fresh air from where he’s zapping left and right and Shoko starts going weak.
Her hands gently comb over his hair and he grunts, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. Shoko’s finger gets snagged on his blindfold and she pulls it off him, pocketing it before he can take it from her. She feels Gojo’s smirk against her lips for the crime.
Omegas often exude a beguiling scent that makes alphas feral and feverish, surrendering to their primitive ways, but to Gojo, Shoko pulls out feelings of affection unlike anything he’d ever felt. The feeling of safety, bliss, contentment, and calm is what Shoko gives. It makes him hungry just as much as other alphas feel toward their omegas. He can’t live without it, her. It keeps him grounded. It’s something deeper than their base instincts. It’s not just fucking, obsession, and possessiveness, it’s an amalgamation of emotions that has built up within the years. He wants her as she is, not just as an omega, but her as a person. If only she can see that.
With eyes pinched, Gojo lets himself get lost to the feel of Shoko’s lips on him, tilting his head so he can go deeper and deeper, and Shoko opens her mouth for him. He slips his tongue inside, and Shoko almost keens. Satoru knows how to kiss her just right that every swipe of his tongue against hers goes straight to the space between her legs. His hot breaths, every lick, the feel of his hair falling on her face, his lashes that brush her cheeks, makes her relinquish all control to him.
She responds to every press of hia lips on hers, letting her mind get muddled with his taste.
“Anyway, it’s Friday…are- you- not- going- out?” Shoko pushes him back to stop him from kissing her every time she speaks, but he brings their lips together again anyway. Her head bobbing in time with his kisses. He smiles, knowing she can’t pull away.
Gojo never missed her heats ever since their deal. If he was here for the early part of the week, he would’ve already sensed her heat was coming. He’s very attentive, but that can be chalked up to him being her alpha, temporarily, that’s why it gnaws at her that she seems to be holding him back from meeting other people because he has her to worry about. They make it their job to know about each other’s personal life (for Satoru’s part, he tends to overshare) but lately he hasn’t been talking to anyone. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not the type to jump from bed to bed, but we all have that itch that needs scratching once in a while, but he never gave any indication he has been seeing someone. Shoko worries how he thinks this thing they have might be exclusive to both of them. She’ll just tell him later it isn’t, and he is welcome to meet other people. She pushes away the feeling of envy budding inside her at the thought of that and focuses on pulling down the zipper of Satoru’s uniform.
He backs away so he can remove his pullover, finishing what Shoko started. They stare at each other. Shoko is heaving, her lips red, moist and swollen. He smirks because even the sides of her mouth are wet. He eyes her face, and her breasts, then he drifts down. He helps himself commit this image of her to memory, Shoko is rarely this disheveled. She’s not even naked but his dick is already hard. He slots his hands on the curves of her hips, her sweater pushed up to reveal the skin under. His hands are so big that his thumbs reach the middle of her stomach.
He presses that spot, “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here.”
Her eyes widen a fraction and the blush from her cheeks creeps down to her neck. Shoko can give him the smallest reactions and he’d be over the moon thinking about them.
The scent of his soap washes over her as he dives down for another kiss, overwhelmed with how strongly he feels for Shoko, and she moans in his mouth. The small sounds she makes make him whisper “so cute.” in the middle of kissing. Her hands pull on the hem of his inner black shirt. He quickly removes it because Shoko is already rushing him to continue kissing her when he rises, briefly extricating himself from her tight embrace. He doesn’t even have the heart to tease her. She seems to be extra needy tonight.
He kisses her neck and she turns to the side to give him more skin to suck. Her eyes stare at the shirt hanging on the arm of the chair, probably wanting to add it to her nest.
“I’ll give you that shirt later.”
Satoru lets Shoko roam her hands around, she likes feeling the hardness of his body, the sheer strength and power within, and loves how the muscles on his back flex.
She looks at him with those pretty brown eyes that never dimmed even with the bags under them. Always so proper, so well put, but with some coaxing, she gets putty in his hands, and fuck does it make him feel nice, especially after so many years of waiting.
He closes his mouth on her and their tongues find each other. Hot breaths fan their faces. Shoko slips down off his blindfold without breaking their kiss. His hair falls on her. Gojo slides a hand up from her waist to feel her skin. The way he touches her is reverent, more to admire than to please himself. As he moves up, his palms trace every curve and jut, there’s no need to memorize, only reacquainting.
He cradles her head in both hands, as if he has to physically hold her back from stealing more kisses and pulls back with a wolfish grin, a tiny string of spit stretches between them. He licks his lips. Shoko can only imagine his blue eyes glowing beneath the blind folds.
“Sheesh Shoko, let me breathe.” He says in defeat, mouth curving up wistfully. Looking at her in adoration.
“How funny that would be, the strongest, killed with a single kiss.”
“I’ll haunt you.” He dips down to kiss her neck, her hands automatically sliding underneath his shirt. “You can’t get me away from you.” He whispers against her skin.
That finally pushes away her worries, if he wants this as much as her then…
He grasps the hem of her sweater. She puts both arms up so Gojo can slip the sweater out of her.
Gojo sucks a breath. He always loved a good pair of tits, but with Shoko, breasts were the last thing on his mind. He remembers when he first saw her naked, her breasts were so beautiful, almost spilling from its confines. But her intelligence, her humor, and her wit were what drew him to her. ‘This’—his lips land on the valley of her chest—‘is only a bonus.’
Shoko’s breathing turns heavy as Gojo leaves kisses on her, his eyes looking up at her as he sucks after every kiss. His lashes so thick she can feel them graze her skin, tickling her.
He pulls her bra down, his other hand sleeping behind her to unclasp it. His lungs momentarily pause as the bra slides down. There’s a mole on the base of one boob that he grazes using a thumb while his palm cups her. His hand under her lingers, letting himself relish the feel of her soft skin. Gojo holds the underside, propping it just so, making her nipple face his waiting mouth. Shoko flinches, his spit is hot, enveloping that sensitive part of her. She finds his hair, raking it with her fingers. He twirls his tongue around, eyes fluttering close, as if the act is more enjoyable for him than her.
His breathing turns steady while Shoko’s lungs try to keep up with the pleasurable sensations. It infuriates Shoko how Satoru looks so relaxed, as if everything he needs in this world underneath him. His palm firmly massages her other tit with just the right amount of gentleness and want, perfectly snug in his big hands. His thumb plays with her right nipple as his tongue flicks her left, tugging before sucking again.
He lets go with a pop, looking up at Shoko beneath long lashes with a long smirk before kissing his path to her other boob. Shoko lifts herself to push herself further into his mouth and he groans, slipping his hands under her to help her arch for him. Her legs wrap around his torso. Her tits press up against his chest and he pulls back to strip off his shirt. He needs to feel this, skin to skin. He dips down again to kiss her, moaning as her nipples push against his chest. He has half a mind to suck them again, and go down on her too—he licks his lips at the thought—but Shoko is getting impatient, grinding herself against his hard dick.
“Please, just fuck me already. Rough and fast. We can do all the lovemaking and cuddling you want after.”
She leads the kiss, distracting him from her fingers fumbling with the button of his pants. Making him raise his head to give her a shit-eating grin.
“Then stay the night? My house.” Gojo asks.
Shoko rolls her eyes at him which only means yes, and successfully undoes his pants. As she pulls them down, his boxers get caught, giving her a peak of his tip, angry and pink with a bead of precum.
Air is lodged in her throat, and that’s a very normal reaction to having a god hover you.
Shoko coasts her eyes up and gets a view of the hard ridges of his abdominal muscles and his attractive face. Shoko starts questioning if this man really is really human. Then he gives her a gentle smile—secretive and a little hesitant—one of the rare times his humanity shows through, and the beating of her heart increases a notch.
Shoko pushes down his pants more until he’s completely free, springing up from its confines.
Satoru’s dick is just as pretty as the rest of him. Long, with a nice girth, and a few angry veins protruding from the skin. Having that size only inflated his oversized ego. “Wow, you really have nothing to be insecure about, huh?” Shoko comments.
Satoru reaches down for her trousers and quickly unbuttons them as well, Shoko raising her legs so Gojo can take them fully off, throwing them to the side, her legs spreading so he can put himself between them.
Shoko blushes as his eyes are now resting on her cunt. There’s a drenched spot on the center of her cotton panties.
“If I have nothing to be insecure about, then why am I not dating the person I like right now?” Gojo says, fingers going to that wet spot. He presses the pad of his middle finger on her pussy and Shoko hisses.
“Maybe because you’ve only been annoying and insufferable towards them.”
“Not at all, I’ve been courteous—can I see you?” Satoru hooks his fingers on the waistband of Shoko’s panties.
“Mhmm.”
Satoru’s hands skim the insides of Shoko’s thighs as he pulls Shoko’s panties sideways.
“And I’ve been generous.” Pointer and middle fingers into his mouth, he sucks.
The increasing heat on Shoko’s cheeks is cloying, like steam being blown directly on her as his wet fingers part her. Gojo’s six eyes are glinting as they focus on her stretching with every plunge of his fingers into her. If she looks closer, a small storm in the middle of the ocean is brewing in those blues.
With every draw of his fingers, more and more slick gathers, and the more his grin widens.
He fishes out a small box of condoms from his pocket, freshly-bought, and brings them to Shoko’s mouth. The omega in her doesn’t like that he’s going to use a condom, but pregnancy rates are high with alpha and omega unions. She bites on the edge as he pulls the other way. Impatient, she takes the condom, reaches down, and quickly slips it around his cock, sucking a breath as Shoko grabs his tip and rubs it along her entrance. He forwards his hips and wets the entirety of his length, Shoko mewling as he hits her clit.
Impatient, Shoko lifts her lower body just a fraction, allowing Gojo to slide in, his tip easily parting her folds.
Caught off guard, he groans, loudly. Shoko is startled, not believing she did that.
Where his hands squeeze her waist tightly to hold her still starts aching. “Fuck.” His breathing shakes.
Raising his head, Gojo looks at Shoko with a knowing smile.
She swallows as Gojo releases his last grip on the lid of his immense cursed energy, it feels suffocating as it descends on her. Her pulse starts racing again, the frenzied omega inside her wants to claw out of her skin and have Gojo for herself, wants to hold him close, comfort him, and placate him.
His hands coasts down from her waists to rest on the insides of her thighs. His thumbs on either side of her entrance parts her folds. He peers, committing to memory the image of how she’s stretching out for him.
“Ready?”
“Yes, please just-“ before Shoko can complete her sentence, Gojo pushes his cock inside her. “Fuck.” It’s as if she just had air breathed back to her lungs after Gojo thrusted them out with one shove of himself into her.
“Hang in there, I haven’t gotten everything inside.”
Shoko mindlessly nods. He was always a lot to take in. He had substantial girth and a good length to him, its addicting to have him in her, her brain turns mush and she doesn’t have to think. How can she, when Gojo feels so good against her walls.
“Don’t stop ther-“
“I know.” Gojo bottoms, pulling out his cock coated with Shoko’s slick, taking a second to admire that view, and slams into her. She keens, finally breathing steadily aftwr being filled to the brim.
Gojo leans down both arms on either side of Shoko that she holds on to as leverage. There’s no more aching heat coming off her skin in waves, rather it is more focused inside her, in her stomach, where Gojo is stuffing himself feverishly.
“Nghhh, so good.” Shoko rubs Gojo’s arms up and down, savoring the coiled muscled underneath. His skin flushes crimson, his hips pistoning faster and deeper into her.
Gojo bites his tongue, he’s not a quiet person, outside and inside of sex. He doesn’t want anyone to hear what he and Shoko are doing, but the sight of Shoko’s tits bouncing along with his thrusts, her hair in disarray, their scents permeating the air, and her face, so contorted in pleasure, makes it so hard so stay silent. She’s so disheveled no one would recognize her looking like this.
A loud cry comes flying out of Shoko’s mouth when Gojo hits that soft spongy part inside her.
“Shit.” Gojo leans down to cover her mouth with a palm. It physically pains him to muffle Shoko’s noises, but he swore he’ll keep her status as an omega hidden. Taking care of her heat in school grounds was already a big offense.
Shoko hums, feeling how good it is when he has his rigid body up against her. He looks so handsome, the tendrils of his hair sticking on his forehead from the sweat, his skin all red and pink, his lips moist and wet, and his ocean eyes glowing.
“Shhhh, baby.” His hips are still mercilessly rocking into her.
Gojo maneuvers her lower limbs to rest on his shoulders. Shoko’s eyes roll back. Gojo feels so much bigger like this. And the way he consumes all her senses, being so close like this is sending her to a high she doesn’t want to get off of.
Her hands rake the back of his head. His fresh undercut feeling nice against her palm.
“You have to be quiet, Shoko. How can you hear me fucking you properly if you’re too loud?” He leers. Shoko, in a daze, takes a minute to process what he just said. “Listen carefully.” Then she notices it, notices how apart from their heavy breathing, her soft squeaky moans, and the creaking of the couch, the wet slaps of Gojo’s cock going inside her is bouncing off the walls in his office. It sounds so obscene, it makes her realize how this man is thoroughly ruining her, consuming her, and taking her so relentlessly and without consequence.
Satoru removes his palm on her mouth. “Open your mouth and show me your tongue.”
Shoko follows all too easily. Gojo pulls out his own tongue and presses it on hers, their moans now swallowed by their kissing.
A deep throaty groan comes out of Satoru when Shoko’s insides grip him tighter, feeling his knot swelling.
Shoko embraces him, extending her neck to show him her swollen gland. “Fuckkkk.” Gojo licks and grazes it with a canine, pausing before he turns away. “You’re a monster, Shoko. Do you know what showing your gland does to me when I’m balls-deep inside you?”
“Of course I do, that’s why I do it.” She caresses his nape with a small smile and kisses the corner of his mouth to placate him.
Gojo’s lips ghosts against Shoko’s ear, shaky rasps and heaves and stuttering moans and whimpers being released out of his mouth. He can’t be loud but he can still let her hear him.
“How do you always feel so good, Shoko? Snug and so wet, wringing me out and taking me so well.” Shoko mewls, nails scratching along Satoru’s sweaty back when she feels him getting bigger. Her eyes roll back, his back and shoulders are broad that there’s always enough skin to touch. He has no qualms trying to fit every inch of himself into her. Gojo lifts a lock of hair that fell on her face as he was fucking his cock into her so he can see clearly how she comes undone before him, so gentle, which is a stark difference to how he’s currently shaping her insides into his dick. “You look so pretty when you’re feeling good.”
With Gojo’s size and strong thrusts, Shoko swears she can feel him in the middle of her stomach, sometimes even in her throat. A tight, aching, and at the same time pleasurable knot forms in her lower stomach, that bit by bit, is in danger of snapping with every shove of cock past her folds.
Her throat feels dry and parched from all her heavy breathing, cries, wails, and moans.
“More, Satoru.”
“Then hold me tighter Shoko.” Their skin feels feverish and sweaty, her hold on him is slippery but she still tries her best to hug him closer. A soft whine eases out of her as his cock pushes further, ramming into her deeper, that she chokes on air. Gojo presses his face onto the crook of her neck, inhaling their mingled scents.
Shoko’s walls clench at him and Gojo feels that pleasurable tingle work its way up his length. She finishes first with a wail, Gojo’s frenzied fucking prolonging her release. He follows just a few seconds after, shaking breaths blowing against the shell of her ear as he cums. Shoko pauses, feeling his cum pour into her, strangely enough she doesn’t panic. But still, there’s a lot.
“Shit, I think the condom broke.” Gojo rasps.
He tries to pull out, momentarily forgetting his knot is still all swollen, but Shoko crosses her legs around his waist.
“Don’t, I mean, your knot hasn’t gone down yet. Besides, you know I take birth control.” For now her heat is sated, no more raging hormones. Yet she doesn’t want to move her arms that are encased around Gojo.
Gojo doesn’t dare move. It’s always after sex that she starts ruminating about the two of them. Shoko is a flight risk. One wrong move and she’ll flit away. He has always tiptoed along their line of friendship, trying to cross over and reach out for her without trying to alert the defense mechanisms she has on the walls she built around her. He considers this vague relationship they have as progress, yet he still knows there’s still a long way to go. Well, he already waited ten years, what’s a few more years?
“He brushes the stray hairs that fell on Shoko’s face. “So are you good? Feeling better?”
“For now.” She says drowsily.
Shoko fell asleep shortly after. Gojo takes this as his chance to stare at her. He shifts her closer to him so she can curl up against him and lifts one of his hoodies to her bare form as a blanket.
She probably had been dealing with her oncoming heat a few days earlier before he came back. Or she probably didn’t know she has been having her pre-heat because of all the things she does in the morgue and infirmary. She’s exhausted.
When Gojo presented as an alpha when he was in middle school no one was surprised but the occasion was still celebrated. The elders told him how he’ll need an omega in the near future and have been searching for suitable ones from prominent families.
He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be a slave to his base urges. He didn’t like their scents, never liked the tugging feeling of having to be close to an omega. It’s annoying and tiring.
When he heard one of his classmates in Jujutsu tech was going to be an omega, he swore to himself he’ll avoid her. Shoko Ieiri, he won’t even spare a glance in her way.
Gojo has steeled himself before entering the classroom. An omega’s scent usually packs a punch but surprisingly this one didn’t. This one was calming, like a tentative caress, it enveloped him so gently. She felt safe and warm. Even with the smell of smoke mildly masking her scent, he finds himself liking it.
Being the only omega in the school, Shoko avoided everyone like the plague and always escaped to the morgue. Suguru has always been a pal, but when Shoko was present, the two sometimes went out of their way to make themselves known as the better alpha. That’s where those friendly competitions probably stemmed from. There’s also Utahime, now that one got into Gojo’s nerves. She got fairly close to Shoko, always nuzzling her, marking her on purpose. Gojo’s alpha was rarely angry, but the first time he smelled Utahime on Shoko, it drove his alpha off the walls. It’s like he always needs to keep an eye on Shoko every time she’s near or Shoko will be taken away. He only knew peace when she finally moved to Kyoto, and some of their colleagues had found their own omegas or partners.
Gojo snickers as Shoko starts drooling next to him, breaking him away from his thoughts.
“Okay, time to go home missy.” He carefully pulls himself free and puts his clothes back on. He then retrieves all the clothes Shoko used for her nest and arranges them, leaving his hoodie on her. Her clothes are put into a bag. With everything packed, he gently carries her and teleports both of them to his house.
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to be continued.