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Yuuji was born wrong.
Satoru knows that as a fact, almost better than he knows anything else. From the moment he met Yuuji, he knew it.
Sure, Shoko would argue that he can't judge someone's dynamic based on how they look or how they act, always saying something about nature vs nurture. But the kid has fucking doe eyes, wide and always wanting whenever they look at Satoru.
Most people, especially Alphas, are a little wary of Satoru, as if they know on some instinctual level that he's stronger than them all.
Yet, never Yuuji.
He'd always been different, and Satoru had known since the moment he saw him - how could anyone miss it? The kid was confident, but so naturally submissive. He would always turn towards Satoru, waiting for instruction, to be told what to do.
It was all too easy to exploit, really.
Yuuji's naivety, his trust - it only furthered Satoru's theory. He wouldn't be able to do anything about it though, it was far too difficult to even get close to Yuuji on a good day, Megumi always ready to level a glare and flare his scent at Satoru.
But, the opportunity seemed to present itself so easily once Yuuji 'died'. No one really knew he was here, and those who did would keep their mouths shut if they didn't want to deal with Satoru. So he started small instead.
The idea hadn't come from nowhere, and Satoru wasn't reckless enough to pretend it had. It had roots-old ones, buried deep within the Gojo clan's archives, tucked between brittle pages and theories most people would've dismissed as outdated or too dangerous to entertain.
He remembered the first time he'd read it, years ago, skimming more out of boredom than interest. Secondary dynamics, forced presentation shifts, the way the body could be… guided, if you knew what to look for. If you were patient enough. At the time, it had been nothing more than a curiosity.
Now, it felt like an answer.
So Satoru started pulling those memories back into focus, digging the texts out again and rereading them with a far more careful eye. Every note, every warning, every step outlined in ink that had long since faded-it all settled into place with unsettling clarity.
It wasn't something that could be rushed. The body had to be eased into it, coaxed rather than forced. Conditioned.
And with Yuuji hidden away, untouched by the outside world, Satoru finally had the space to try.
"Mhng," it was a quiet thing, as sweat dripped down his forehead, soaking into his shirt currently shoved in his mouth so that Yuuji didn't hear him.
Yuuji, writhing beneath him, slick leaking from his new pussy, and Satoru would be the first and only one to ever touch it. Yuuji, wide eyed and leaning forward to wrap plush lips around his cock. Yuuji, so fvcked out before he's ever been fvcked.
It's so worth it, Satoru thinks, a little feverish, as he fucks into his fist. Swiping a finger over his cockhead, Satoru spreads the precum over his length, watching as it leaks over the sandwich he was making for Yuuji. He trails his other hand to his balls, lightly squeezing them, feeling his cock jerk in response.
"Ah-ah," he whines, the sound comes out muffled and sort of punched out as the sound of squelching starts to grow in the room, his hips twitching forward whenever he squeezes just so. He cums with the image of Yuuji burned onto his mind, his hips thrusting forward, grinding against his fist as cum coats the sandwich in thick white ribbons.
His thighs shake as he comes down from it, quivering still when the last few spurts of cum are directed into Yuuji's drink. Satoru sighs through the bone-deep relief coursing through his veins, quickly tucking himself back into his pants despite the wetness and buttoning them again.
It's become a routine at this point, with how many times he's jerked off like this. He doesn't care to cover his cum much on the sandwich, if Yuuji asks, he'll just say it was mayo or something, but his fingers curl around a spoon to mix Yuuji's juice.
They'd been doing this for weeks now, and Yuuji hadn't noticed a thing. He didn't question why the food Satoru gave him was always a tad too salty or why Satoru was in charge of getting him drinks when Yuuji could just as easily get them for himself.
And it was working, slowly tempering his body, coaxing it to accept what should've always been. The changes were slow at first, near invisible, but Yuuji's body had started to shift. He didn't notice it, but Satoru did.
Yuuji's scent was the first thing to change - an underlying sweetness, barely noticeable even, but it was enough to let him know this was working.
Then the pain began. It was small, Yuuji wincing, gripping at his sides or curling his arms around his tummy protectively, before dismissing it with a strained smile.
"Just a stomach cramp, Sensei! Let's continue," he'd laugh off, but Satoru knew. Yuuji's body was still resisting the changes. So Satoru moved to the next step as well, whenever he was home with Yuuji, he was near constantly pumping out his pheromones.
Bitching is about submission after all, Yuuji's body won't change unless it gives in - sees that Satoru is an Alpha worth changing for.
Yuuji had wrinkled his nose at him, but didn't say anything about it. Soon, he just became accustomed to the smell of alpha and musk. He'd easily accept being an omega once his body finally accepted the change, but until then, Satoru needed to continue the process.
Swiping a bit more mayo onto the sandwich before carefully pressing the bread on top, Satoru allowed himself a brief, satisfied smile as he looked over his work.
"Hey Yuuji," Satoru called whiping his hand off on the inside of his shirt before grabbing the plate and moving towards the couch in the other room. His voice was light, "Lunch!"
Yuuji turned to him, lips parting before he smiled, eyes bright and eager as he reached out for the plate. He didn't even blink at the mess of white dripping from the sandwich, instead immediately moving to take a bite. Satoru plopped onto the couch next to him, resting his chin in his hand as he watched.
"Good?" Satoru asked, almost absently. Yuuji grinned around a mouthful of food, nodding.
"Mm-hmm! It tastes great, Sensei, as always!" Satoru's smile widened, barely holding back the satisfied hum in his throat.
"Glad you like it. Most people don't like my cooking." His eyes trained onto the bob of Yuuji's throat as he swallowed, before that soft, pink tongue moved to lick a bit of white from the corner of his mouth.
"Eh? No way! You're a great cook, Gojo-Sensei!" Satoru leaned back a bit more, the relaxing grin never leaving his face as he watched Yuuji finish the sandwich. There was something almost wickedly satisfying about how easily Yuuji fell into their routine, so trusting and innocent.
It was almost a shame, at times, that he didn't realize what was happening, but Satoru did prefer it this way. It was easier if Yuuji didn't know who to blame, and it kept Satoru from having to forcefully fuck Yuuji.
This way he could wait for Yuuji to come to him, scared and teary-eyed, untouched but violated in a way that he'd never understand. For that reason, Satoru was willing to wait.
Things were progressing slowly, though, almost too slowly. Satoru was started to feel frustrated, his glands felt sore from how much scent he was constantly pumping into the basement, and they were starting to near the Goodwill Event. If it came down to it, Satoru would just keep Yuuji locked away in his basement for longer, but if he waited too long, he'd have to start fending off Shoko.
Yuuji was still struggling with cramps, and he tried to keep it from Satoru, but he could see the changes building beneath the boy's skin; small, subtle shifts that even Yuuji hadn't noticed yet.
Until one night.
When Yuuji came stumbling into the room, Satoru had been lounging on the couch and aimlessly flipping through the channels with his free hand, it was already late, and the basement had been silent.
Even though the evening was cool, Yuuji stood in the doorway with a flushed face and a glisten of sweat on his forehead. His fingers were shaking slightly as he pushed his hand over his lower abdomen. And Satoru knew from the moment he looked at him.
“G-Gojo-Sensei” Yuuji’s voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “I think… I think something’s wrong.”
Satoru clicked the TV off, turning his full attention to the boy, though his expression remained unreadable. “Wrong how?” There was a spark of something dark burning a hole in his chest as he spoke, but his tone remained steady and controlled.
With a forceful swallow, Yuuji's fingers pressed firmly on his stomach, as though attempting to steady something. "I dunno. Here, uhm..." Eyes wide with confusion and fear, he made a feeble gesture to his tummy. "It hurts, Sensei. I thought, you know, it was just from training or something, but..."
Satoru didn’t move from his spot, watching Yuuji closely. “But what?” he prompted, keeping his voice soft, almost sympathetic.
Yuuji bit his wobbling lip, his posture tense. “Dunno. Feels like…” he hesitated, eyes darting away, clearly uncomfortable with the admission. “Like something’s wrong with me. Been happening for a few weeks now.”
Satoru hummed in acknowledgment, pretending to mull it over, but internally, he felt a surge of satisfaction. Bitching was a painful process. It twisted and contorted the body, warping it in ways that it was never meant to handle. Most Alphas who underwent it didn’t survive, their bodies unable to cope with the strain. But Satoru had tempered Yuuji, dosing him with just enough of his cum to keep the worst of it at bay, to slowly acclimate him to the changes without killing him outright.
That didn’t mean Yuuji wasn’t suffering.
Satoru stood slowly, moving toward him with deliberate steps, his expression carefully neutral. “You’re probably just overworked, Yuuji,” he said, his voice soothing, but the way he studied Yuuji’s trembling form told a different story. “Bodies do strange things under stress.”
Yuuji nodded quickly, clearly wanting to believe it, but his body betrayed him. His knees buckled, and he stumbled forward, almost collapsing if not for Satoru’s quick reflexes catching him. His hands instinctively went to grip Satoru’s arms, his fingers digging in as he panted heavily, trying to ride out the waves of pain that coursed through him.
Satoru’s hands steadied him, his grip firm but gentle as he looked down at the boy, amusement glimmering faintly behind his usual calm. “Easy, Yuuji,” he whispered, his tone deceptively kind. “We’ll figure it out. Just breathe.”
In the nights that followed, Yuuji’s pain grew worse. His sleep became restless, his body seizing in the dead of night as the transformation took root. He felt as if he was being consumed from within, his body struggling to resist the changes while simultaneously succumbing to them. The muscles in his lower tummy would spasm, like they were being torn apart and stitched back together again.
Every change of Yuuji's body was another step towards something inevitable - towards Yuuji becoming something that wasn’t quite an Alpha anymore. Something more malleable. Something that belonged to Satoru.
“You’ll be fine,” Satoru would say, his voice low and soothing, even as he watched Yuuji writhe with agony. “It’s probably just a little growing pain.”
And Satoru would make sure Yuuji grew into exactly what he needed him to be.
All of his efforts finally paid off one night.
Satoru had taken to sleeping in the basement recently, with how ill Yuuji seemed to have been recently, it only made sense after all. It’s not that Satoru didn’t trust Yuuji, but he didn't know what might happen if the boy went into heat when Satoru wasn’t around. Satoru doesn’t take him for a whore or a dumb omega who’d so easily leave the basement in search of an Alpha, but he couldn’t take the chance.
Yet none of that seemed to matter when Satoru slowly blinked into awareness, eyes heavy with sleep, but the smell of burnt sugar and peaches flooded his nose before he could even think. There was a weight on his chest, the slightest shifting against him. And he was so fucking hard it hurt; he might even pop a knot. Squeezing his eyes shut, Satoru tries to breathe through his mouth, tries to get himself even mildly under control, but then he opens his eyes.
Yuuji’s head is thrown back, tear stains marking his cheeks, his whole body is flushed, and he’s sitting there, grinding against Satoru’s bulge as if it’s the only thing that’s keeping him alive.
Satoru's lips curl into a slow, wicked grin as he watches Yuuji writhe above him, desperate and broken, exactly how he intended.
“You look pathetic,” Satoru drawls, his voice oozing satisfaction as he stares up at the trembling omega. “You used to think you were so strong, didn’t you? But look at you now.” His hand snakes up Yuuji’s thigh, fingers digging into the soft, trembling flesh beneath damp fabric. "Begging for me to fvck you."
Yuuji's response is a choked sob, his hips still moving, grinding down against Satoru despite the friction of their clothes. There’s no more fight left in him - just raw need, all that remains of his shattered alpha pride.
"I-I can't..." Yuuji gasps, voice breaking as he stares down at Satoru with glazed-over eyes, tears still clinging to his flushed cheeks. His body trembles, overwhelmed by the heat coursing through him, but Satoru can see it - that flicker of resistance, the part of Yuuji that still clings to the thought that this wasn’t supposed to happen. That he wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Satoru loves it. He almost wants Yuuji to realize, to break from the haze and fight back, to scream stop even as he pushes back against Satoru’s cock.
He laughs softly, low and dark, before sitting up and shifting Yuuji into his lap, keeping the omega pinned tight against him. "Oh, you can, Yuuji," Satoru growls into his ear, patronizing. "You don’t have a choice. This is what you are now. This is what I’ve made you.”
Yuuji whimpers, his hands clutching at Satoru’s chest, still caught between wanting to push him away and pulling him closer.
“You feel that, don’t you?” Satoru presses on, grinding his still-clothed cock against Yuuji, letting him feel just how much Satoru was enjoying this. "How badly your body wants me. It’s been craving my touch. Even after all the fighting, all the resistance, this is where you belong. You’ve always belonged beneath me. Even after all the fighting, all the resistance, this is where you belong. You’ve always belonged beneath me."
Yuuji’s head tilts back, his throat exposed as another broken moan escapes him, his entire body bending under Satoru’s touch. Burnt sugar and peaches saturate the air, thick and heady with desperation, a steady drip from Yuuji’s glands as his body falls deeper into his first heat.
Satoru suddenly snaps his hand over Yuuji's throat, gripping it so firmly that Yuuji freezes and makes a choking noise in the back of his throat. Satoru moves in close, his lips brushing Yuuji's ear, his eyes gleaming with a predatory want.
"I should have done this sooner." His voice is quiet but unwavering as he whispers, "Should’ve broken you the moment I realized how weak you really were."
Yuuji trembles in Satoru's hold, his eyes wide and his breath shallow. Satoru's tongue drags over the shell of Yuuji's ear before he pulls back just enough to meet his Omega's eyes.
“You’re mine, Yuuji,” he declares, a twisted satisfaction curling through him as Yuuji’s pupils dilate with fear and need. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget that.”
Yuuji’s breath stutters under the pressure on his throat, the sound caught somewhere between a gasp and something softer, something that trembles its way up his chest before it can fully form. His hands hover, uncertain, fingers twitching at Satoru’s wrist but never quite pushing him away.
“Look at you,” Satoru murmurs, softer now, though the grip on Yuuji’s throat doesn’t loosen. His thumb shifts slightly, pressing just enough to make Yuuji’s breath hitch again. “Don’t even know what to do, do you?”
Yuuji shakes his head instinctively, the motion small, restrained by Satoru’s hold. His eyes stay locked on Satoru’s, wide and glassy, something unsteady flickering through them.
That’s when Satoru leans in.
The first brush of his lips is almost deceptively gentle, barely there. Yuuji flinches at the contact, a soft, startled sound slipping past his mouth, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he stills completely, like he’s afraid that moving might make it stop.
Satoru hums against his lips, pleased, and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It’s slow at first, deliberate, coaxing rather than taking. He drags his mouth over Yuuji’s, pressing just enough to feel the way Yuuji starts to melt under it, tension bleeding out of him in uneven waves.
The hand at Yuuji’s throat shifts - not releasing, but changing, his grip easing just enough to slide upward, fingers curling along his jaw instead. He tilts Yuuji’s head how he wants, guiding him, controlling the angle of the kiss with practiced ease.
Yuuji makes another sound, quieter this time, something that seems to vibrate between them as Satoru parts his lips further, the kiss turning heavier, more insistent. There’s a clumsy attempt to follow, but it only makes something warm and dark curl in Satoru’s chest.
“Like that,” Satoru breathes against him, the words ghosting over Yuuji’s mouth before he leans in again, stealing the space between breaths.
The kiss isn’t gentle this time.
It lands hard - teeth knocking, lips crushed together with no warning. Yuuji gasps against him, the sound swallowed immediately as Satoru angles his head and forces the kiss deeper, more demanding. There’s no patience in it now, no slow coaxing - just taking, owning.
Yuuji’s body jerks, a startled sound muffled between them as he tries to keep up, but Satoru doesn’t give him the chance. His hand leaves Yuuji’s throat only to grab his jaw, fingers digging in as he forces his mouth open wider, controlling every movement, every breath.
“Pay attention,” Satoru mutters against his lips, voice low, edged.
The next kiss is worse - sloppier, rougher, all sharp edges and heat. He bites down, not enough to break skin but enough to make Yuuji flinch, enough to pull another helpless sound from him. It only seems to encourage him, the way Yuuji reacts, the way he melts and tenses all at once.
Yuuji clutches at him now, fingers twisting into his clothes, not pushing away but holding on like he doesn’t know what else to do. His breathing is uneven, shallow, every inhale catching as Satoru keeps stealing them, keeps crowding into his space until there’s nothing left but him.
“Good,” Satoru breathes, almost a growl, dragging his mouth over Yuuji’s again, slower for half a second before snapping right back into that same relentless pace. “That’s it.”
He doesn’t let up, not even when Yuuji starts to falter, when his movements turn clumsy and desperate. If anything, Satoru tightens his grip, keeps him right where he wants him, keeps the kiss bruising and consuming until Yuuji has no choice but to follow, to give in to the rhythm Satoru sets.
He pulls back just enough to look at him, breath still hot between them, Yuuji’s lips swollen and parted, his chest rising and falling in uneven pulls. There’s a moment where Yuuji just stares, dazed, eyes cloudy, like he’s not quite there.
Then, with a swift motion, Satoru flips them. Yuuji’s back hits the surface beneath them with a startled sound, the air punched from his lungs as Satoru follows, crowding into him, pressing him down with effortless control.
Yuuji’s hands come up instinctively, catching at Satoru’s shoulders, but it does nothing to stop him. Not when Satoru already has him exactly where he wants him.
His hand finds Yuuji’s throat again, fingers settling tight and familiar, holding him in place as he leans down, their bodies pressed flush. A quiet, pleased hum leaves him, low in his chest, as he watches the way Yuuji reacts beneath him, eyes glistening with tears, breath shaky.
“Now,” Satoru murmurs, voice rough, certain, his thumb pressing just enough to make Yuuji’s breath hitch again, “let me hear you beg for it, Omega.”
Yuuji’s lips tremble, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to form the words. But even now, beneath all the tears, the shame, he can’t deny what his body craves. “Alpha, please...”
Satoru muttered, "Look at you," in a harsh, low voice that trembled between awe and lust. He slides a hand down Yuuji's side, reverent, as though he were something that would break - as though he were more than just flesh and bone. "You’re beautiful, Yuuji. Perfect. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Yuuji whimpered softly, his breath hitching at the praise.
Satoru’s hand moved to Yuuji’s thighs, sliding beneath the fabric of his slick-soaked pants, fingers sliding between wet folds.
"You’re mine," Satoru whispered, almost tenderly now, his lips brushing against Yuuji’s cheek. With a gentle tilt of Yuuji's head, he planted soft kisses all the way from his jawline to the hollow of his throat. "All mine, and I’m going to take care of you.”
Yuuji let out a soft moan, his hips instinctively grinding against Satoru’s fingers. His cunt was tiny, he knew that even as he dragged his fingers through the slick of Yuuji’s folds, trying to find the boy’s clit. Yuuji jerked when Satoru’s fingers grazed the small nub, going so stiff that Satoru wanted to laugh at the display of submission.
Instead, he sighed against Yuuji’s skin, he could feel Yuuji’s heart pounding beneath his lips as he kissed along the column of his neck, his mouth soft and teasing, punching out shallow little gasps from Yuuji with every press. The slick between his legs coated Satoru’s hand, warm and wet, dripping through his fingers even as he dragged his fingers away from Yuuji’s clit to tease against the boy’s entrance. Yuuji’s thighs trembled, and though he tried to hold back, his hips jerked forward, chasing Satoru’s touch.
“That’s it," he whispered, his voice dark and velvety against Yuuji’s skin. He was slick, so slick that Satoru’s fingers dipped inside effortlessly, and Yuuji choked on a sob, his head falling back against the cushions. "I knew you’d feel this good, knew you were made for me."
Yuuji moans and attempts to push against Satoru's fingers, his hands fisting feebly in Satoru's shirt and shaking his head angrily.
"I-I don’t…" Satoru's fingers curled perfectly as they shoved farther into Yuuji, causing his voice to break and his words to stumble. Head falling back, his thighs clenched around Satoru's palm, a broken sob spilling out of his throat.
"Don’t what?" Satoru mocks, his voice sharp but tinged with amusement. He angles his thumb just so, rubbing slow circles over Yuuji’s swollen clit, making the boy writhe beneath him. "You don’t want this? Don’t lie to me, Yuuji. I can feel how badly you want it. How badly you need me."
The tears in Yuuji’s eyes made the moment even sweeter. His chest heaved, his body a trembling mess beneath Satoru, and yet, Yuuji’s hips rolled into his touch, desperate, betraying whatever weak resistance he thought he had left.
Satoru leaned in close, letting his lips brush against Yuuji’s ear, feeling the shiver that followed. "Say it, Yuuji," he murmured, his voice low and possessive. "Tell me what you need. Beg me to fuck you."
And then it came, quiet, broken, but undeniable. "Gojo-Sensei, please…"
Satoru’s grin widened, his chest swelling with satisfaction. "Good boy," he growled, his voice thick with approval. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Yuuji’s mouth, tasting the salt of his tears and feeling the way Yuuji melted under the praise. “Now, let’s get this off of you.”
Without waiting another second, Satoru withdrew his fingers, slick and glistening, before moving to yank at Yuuji’s clothes. The boy was only in his nightwear, a loose shirt - that Satoru could’ve sworn was his - was the first to go. He tugged it over the boy’s head, his arms catching due to how sweat-soaked the fabric was.
"God, look at this mess," Satoru murmured, almost to himself as he finally got the shirt off Yuuji, tossing it aside without a second thought. His eyes raked over the exposed skin, the flushed, trembling body beneath him, and he felt a jolt of satisfaction course through him. Yuuji looked wrecked, and Satoru hadn’t even claimed him fully yet.
With a whimper, Yuuji automatically raised his arms to cover his face, but Satoru was quicker. Grabbing Yuuji's wrists with one hand, he pinned them above his head. "Don’t hide from me," he growled, his voice low and mixing with amusement and possessiveness. "I want to see everything."
Satoru's free hand moved down Yuuji's side, tracing the curve of his waist with rough fingertips before halting at the waistband of his pants, feeling Yuuji's body tremble beneath his touch. Satoru's breath caught briefly when the thin nightwear clung to Yuuji's thighs, sticky with slick and sweat.
"This is what you want, isn’t it?" Satoru's voice was soft, a dangerous little murmur as he tugged at the waistband, carefully pulling the fabric down. The thin material stuck to Yuuji's thighs, sticky and unwilling to be so easily pulled away, and normally Satoru would love to slowly slide them down and press hot kisses to every newly exposed inch of Yuuji's skin, but today he was starting to lose his patience. Yuuji’s breathless whimpers cut through the quiet in the room, his body twitching under Satoru’s hands as the Omega’s scent got thicker, more intoxicating. The smell of burnt sugar nearly seemed to be burning his nose now, and Satoru felt woozy, as if he couldn't breathe, as he yanked at Yuuji's clothes again.
“Hold still,” Satoru snarled, his tone sharp and impatient at the same time as he pulled harder, ultimately managing to strip Yuuji from the last bit of cloth that was stuck to him. Yuuji was left bare beneath him, completely exposed, his skin flushed, glistening, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as his eyes flickered between fear, shame, and a desperate, instinctual need.
“There we go,” Satoru whispered, his voice low, dripping with satisfaction. He settled himself between Yuuji’s legs, his hands sliding over the soft skin of his thighs, spreading them wider to get a better look at the mess between them. Yuuji's cunt was glistening, drenched in slick, the scent of him hitting Satoru like a drug.
He took a deep breath and savored the raw, enticing scent of Yuuji's slick filling his nose. His tongue sprang out to taste Yuuji's smooth skin as he pressed his lips to slick stained skin, unable to control the deep growl that rumbled in his chest. Under him, he could feel Yuuji tense, the Omega struggling to control his shaking legs, clutching weakly at the sheets.
“You smell so good, Yuuji,” Satoru murmured, his voice thick with desire. Without warning, he dragged his tongue up the length of Yuuji’s cunt, tasting the sweetness of his slick, savoring the way Yuuji’s body jerked in response. Satoru let out a deep, raspy moan as he buried his face between Yuuji's thighs, lapping at his slit, drinking him in as if he'd been starved for it.
With his fingers instinctively threading through Satoru's hair, Yuuji let out a weak cry that filled the air. "Gojo-," he whined, his voice faltering as he struggled to form coherent words as Satoru dipped his tongue down to Yuuji’s wet entrance.
Yuuji tasted sweet. Satoru didn’t know if anything else would ever compare again, not even his favorite sweets. Yuuji’s slick tasted just as he smelled, of burnt sugar, like the coating of a Creme Burlee. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, savoring every drop of slick that coated his lips, feeling the way Yuuji’s body responded, every shiver, every gasp.
"Sensei, p-please..." Yuuji whimpered, his voice strained, breaking between shallow breaths. His hips rolled, instinctively seeking more friction, his body unable to fight the overwhelming urge to succumb completely.
Satoru chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against Yuuji’s slick skin. "Please, what?" he teased, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips still grazing the sensitive skin of Yuuji’s inner thigh. "Tell me exactly what you need, Yuuji. I want to hear you say it."
Yuuji’s face was flushed, tears still clinging to his lashes, and his lips parted as if to respond, but all that escaped was a desperate, broken moan. Satoru smirked at the sight, a thrill coursing through him. He liked seeing Yuuji like this - undone, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy.
Leaning back in, Satoru pressed his lips against Yuuji’s entrance again, sliding his tongue in deeper this time, feeling Yuuji’s muscles flutter and contract around him. The taste of slick coated his tongue, sweet and intoxicating, filling his mouth like nothing else ever had.
Satoru shifted his hand from Yuuji’s thigh to the omega’s swollen clit, his fingers brushing over it with just enough pressure to make Yuuji’s whole body arch off the bed, his back curving beautifully, as another strangled moan escaped him. Yuuji’s body shook with need, his breath coming in desperate, uneven pants, and Satoru felt a possessive heat surge through him at the sight.
"I said," Satoru growled against Yuuji’s cunt, his voice rougher now, "beg."
Yuuji gasped, his body trembling beneath him, but this time, he forced the words out, his voice shaky and desperate. "Gojo-Sensei, please... I need - I need you to fuck me, please!"
That was all Satoru needed to hear.
He immediately moved to undo his pants. The sound of the zipper felt loud in the thick, heated air between them. He could feel Yuuji’s eyes on him, wide and glassy, filled with a mixture of fear and need. Satoru wanted to devour him.
He swiped a finger over his cockhead as he shuffled off his pants, fighting the urge to fvck into his fist a couple of times. Yuuji’s eyes were stuck on his cock, as if scared, as if he suddenly realized what was about to happen.
He let his cock press against Yuuji’s entrance, teasing, just enough to make Yuuji whimper, to make him squirm. "Feel that?" Satoru whispered, his voice a rough growl as he ground himself against the boy’s slick heat. "That’s what you’ve been craving. What your body’s been begging for."
Yuuji trembled beneath him, his thighs clenching as his hands grabbed desperately at Satoru’s shirt, trying to find something solid, something to hold onto. He was already too far gone, his breath coming out in soft, broken gasps, his chest heaving with the effort of keeping up. Satoru let the moment hang, hovering on the edge of anticipation, savoring the look in Yuuji’s eyes, the way he was crumbling completely beneath him.
"One last chance to back out," Satoru teased, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. He pressed just the tip inside, enough to make Yuuji’s breath hitch sharply. “I’m not going to stop, even if you beg me.”
Yuuji's body convulsed, a choked gasp escaping his lips as Satoru rocked inside a hair more, watching with rapt interest as Yuuji’s flushed and glistening rim stretched taut around his cock. Yuuji’s face fell slack with just the tip, his body falling limp now that he was finally being filled.
He thrust in slowly, savoring the way Yuuji’s body seemed to mold around him, accepting him, wanting him. Inch by inch, he buried himself deeper inside the Omega, until their hips were flush, their bodies pressed together in a perfect, tight fit. He didn’t need to, but he paused in order to give Yuuji a moment to breathe, to feel what it was like to be filled so much. Satoru was almost surprised at how easily Yuuji took him, he thought he’d need to stretch the boy some, but he was so wet that it wasn’t necessary.
Satoru shifted his hips, pulling out just so in order to see Yuuji’s cunt pull him back in again, however, he paused, breath falling short when he saw the ring of pink slick around his cock. Sure, Yuuji had been in so much pain because his body was changing to grow a pussy, but he’d really done it now - there was no going back - he’d taken Yuuji’s virginity.
“Oh, Yuu-chan…” He brought a hand up to Yuuji’s cheek, pressing against the hot skin as Yuuji leaned into him, tear-filled eyes closing as they breathed together.
His Omega’s body twitched around him, his inner walls fluttering and squeezing in protest and pleasure. Satoru nearly groaned at the way Yuuji fit him so perfectly, the wet heat pulling him in, clenching around him as if Yuuji’s body needed him there.
Satoru shifted his hips, pulling out slowly, just enough to feel the slick drag of Yuuji’s body resisting his absence. But when he glanced down, something stopped him - his breath catching in his throat.
There, pressed against the flat plane of Yuuji’s belly, was a small but noticeable bulge, a swell where his cock filled him so completely that Yuuji’s body couldn’t hide it. His eyes darkened, fixating on it, the raw possessiveness flaring in his chest again.
"Look at that," Satoru murmured, his voice husky with awe as he pushed in deep, dropping his hand from Yuuji’s cheek to splay out across the swell in Yuuji’s belly. He pressed down gently, feeling the hardness beneath his fingers.
Satoru's lips curled into a wicked smile. "You feel me here too, don’t you?" His voice was teasing, but it tread a very thin line of his control. He pressed down again, watching as Yuuji's body jerked in response, a loud, broken gasp leaving his lips before his hands flew to claw at Satoru's wrist, as if trying to relieve the pressure.
“You’re so perfect, Yuuji,” Satoru murmured, his voice low, dripping with pride and desire. He eased out slowly, his eyes never leaving the way Yuuji’s belly relaxed when his cock wasn’t stretching him to the brink. Then he thrust back in hard, watching the bulge reappear as his cock filled Yuuji to the limit once more. Yuuji gasped, his body arching off the bed, his nails digging into Satoru’s wrist as his entire frame trembled with need.
"Sensei..." he whimpered, his voice shaky, barely coherent as his body tried to adjust to the relentless pressure inside him.
Satoru grinned down at him, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous, possessive edge. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against Yuuji's ear as he whispered, "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take me this deep."
He shifted his hips, rolling them slowly, grinding himself against that soft, slick heat, feeling Yuuji’s walls flutter helplessly around him. Every sound Yuuji made, every shiver, only spurred Satoru on, driving him deeper into that intoxicating pleasure.
Yuuji’s belly bulged again with each thrust, and Satoru’s hand remained there, pressing lightly against the swell, watching the way Yuuji’s body responded to him, the way he was stretched so perfectly around his cock.
“You’re mine, Yuuji,” Satoru growled softly, his breath hot against Yuuji’s ear. He pressed his lips to the shell of Yuuji’s ear before shifting his weight, the need to claim him completely gnawing at him. “Let me show you just how much.”
With a sudden, fluid movement, Satoru flipped Yuuji onto his stomach, pulling him up onto his knees, his ass high in the air. Yuuji gasped in surprise, the shift jarring him as Satoru's cock slid out briefly before he slammed back inside, filling him to the hilt once more. Yuuji’s arms gave out beneath him, his face pressing into the sheets as his body trembled uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the new angle.
Satoru gripped Yuuji’s hips tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled Yuuji back against him with each thrust, forcing him to take every inch. His cock buried itself deep, the bulge in Yuuji’s belly feeling more pronounced from this position, and Satoru couldn’t resist pressing a palm against it once more. The pressure made Yuuji whimper, his back arching, pushing him further into the bed as Satoru kept him pinned.
His thrusts grew harder, rougher, each one sending a ripple of pleasure through Yuuji's trembling body. The sounds spilling from Yuuji - breathless gasps, soft whimpers, and broken moans - only fueled the fire building inside Satoru. His movements became relentless, and Yuuji’s body shook with every rough impact, pressing firmly into the mattress as Satoru drove into him again and again, never letting up.
“Take it,” Satoru growled, his voice rough with lust as he slammed into Yuuji. His hand pressed harder against the bulge in Yuuji’s belly, eliciting a sharp cry from him. Yuuji’s hands fisted into the sheets, trying desperately to hold onto something as his body was rocked forward, barely able to keep up with Satoru’s pace.
“Alpha!” Yuuji finally cried, his voice cracked, overwhelmed, his entire body trembling from being filled so well.
He leaned over Yuuji, his chest pressing flush against Yuuji’s trembling back, his lips brushing the soft skin of Yuuji’s neck. His teeth grazed against Yuuji’s gland there, rubbing his nose into the oils accumulated on the skin there.
“Mine,” Satoru hissed, his voice dark, dripping with intent. Yuuji shuddered beneath him, his breath hitching as he felt Satoru’s teeth ghost over his neck, the threat of the bite sending a fresh wave of heat through his already overwhelmed body.
Satoru snapped his hips harder, rougher, feeling Yuuji tighten around him with every thrust. The slick heat of Yuuji’s body was too much, too perfect, and Satoru could feel his control slipping. His breathing grew heavier, each thrust more desperate as he felt his knot start to grow.
Yuuji squealed, his body squirming, trying to pull away from the overwhelming pressure, but Satoru wasn’t having it. His large hands gripped Yuuji’s hips tighter, pinning him down, and keeping him exactly where he wanted him.
“Yuuji…” Satoru growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. His hand slid over to the dip of Yuuji’s spine, pressing him harder into the mattress, his chest flush against Yuuji’s trembling back. “You’re gonna take it all, understand? Gonna take my knot.”
Yuuji whimpered, his whole body shuddering, but Satoru pushed forward again, feeling his knot pop in, stretching Yuuji to his absolute limit. He pulled back, just enough for his knot to slip out with an obscene wet sound, only to slam it back in, forcing Yuuji to take the full stretch again. Yuuji let out a broken cry, his fingers clawing desperately at the sheets, but Satoru held him steady, driving in deeper, harder.
“Fuck,” Satoru hissed, his voice a low rumble, his knot swelling more each time it popped in and out. “Gonna make you mine, Yuuji,” Satoru growled low in his throat, the sound almost feral. His hand slid from Yuuji’s spine to the back of his head, pinning him down as he snapped his hips harder, driving himself to the edge.
Yuuji’s cries were raw, breathless, his body trembling uncontrollably beneath Satoru. He could feel it building, the heat coiling tighter and tighter in his core, and Satoru’s rough grip, the pressure inside him, sent him spiraling closer to release.
And then, with one final, brutal thrust, pushing his knot in deep, Satoru sank his teeth into Yuuji’s gland.
The sharp bite sent a shockwave through Yuuji’s body, his mind going blank as pleasure and pain crashed into him all at once. He let out a strangled cry, his body clenching tight around Satoru’s cock as he came, the force of it tearing through him.
The moment Satoru’s teeth broke through Yuuji’s skin, it was like everything around him sharpened. The tang of blood hit his tongue, warm and rich, and the metallic taste mingled with the heady scent of Yuuji’s sweat and slick. It was intoxicating, the coppery slickness making his mouth water as he bit down harder, his entire body thrumming with satisfaction.
As he pulled back, licking the wound to soothe it, he could already sense the change. Yuuji’s scent, usually warm like summer air, was shifting. It was subtle at first, like a breeze turning colder, but Satoru recognized the shift instantly. The mingling of their scents was undeniable now - Yuuji’s scent blending with his own, a delicate sweetness twisting into something sharper, cooler - something that belonged to him.
Satoru pressed his lips back to the bite, humming softly in satisfaction. He could feel Yuuji shivering beneath him, overwhelmed, and Satoru couldn’t help but smirk at how perfect it all was.
“You smell different now,” Satoru murmured, the smugness unmistakable as he pressed a kiss to Yuuji’s marked neck, his fingers stroking over the fresh wound. “Better. Like mine.”
Yuuji shuddered, his body quivering beneath him, and Satoru couldn’t help but smirk at the reaction. His knot throbbed again, cum still being emptied inside of Yuuji as it locked them together tighter with each pulse. He shifted his hips slightly, testing the resistance, feeling Yuuji’s walls flutter and clench around him in response.
"Can't get away now," Satoru chuckled darkly, the sound rumbling in his chest as he nuzzled the crook of Yuuji’s neck. His hand slipped down to the bulge in Yuuji’s belly, pressing down just enough to feel the hardness of his cock through the skin. “You’ll feel me here for a long time.”
Yuuji whimpered softly, his fingers weakly clutching at the sheets, but Satoru kept him pinned, his weight heavy against Yuuji’s back. His knot was still aching, stretching Yuuji to the brink, and he could feel every twitch, every small movement, as Yuuji’s body tried to adjust to the impossible fullness.
Satoru’s lips curled into a satisfied grin. He shifted again, just a small roll of his hips, enough to make his knot tug slightly at Yuuji’s stretched entrance, eliciting a soft, broken moan from beneath him.
"Fuck," Satoru hissed, the sensation almost too much, the pressure building inside him, coiling tighter and tighter. His hand moved back to Yuuji’s hips, gripping him possessively, holding him close as he felt another load fill his omega.
“And to think, all it took was some cum and you’re practically cock-drunk now.”
Yuuji’s voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible, but Satoru heard it clearly. “Alpha…”
Satoru’s chest swelled with pride at the sound, at the sheer need in Yuuji’s voice. He shifted his hips once more, the movement slow and deliberate, savoring every second of the way Yuuji’s body struggled to take all of him.
“Yeah,” Satoru murmured, his voice rough and low as he pressed a kiss to the back of Yuuji’s neck, right over the bite mark. “I knew you were meant to be mine.”