‘Anything’ Megumi had impulsively answered Ieiri-san when she asked him what he was willing to do.
It was so unlike him; to not think something through before taking a decision. But the situation was nothing like usual.
‘Anything’ had seemed better than staying like this, forced to hold himself back from humping everything and everyone in sight as this pseudo-rut took hold of his body.
‘Anything’ had looked like salvation even. Because nothing could be more unbearable than this endless buzzing. This thick fog of lust darkening his thoughts and reducing to ashes all his restraint and control.
Or at least, Megumi had thought it’d be the case.
Now, he’s slowly beginning to regret not going with the ‘jerk off for days on end’ alternative. It seems way more appealing than this hell he has chosen for himself.
“Poor Megumin,” Gojo coos in a half-whisper, half-moan, “Stuck in a rut because he couldn’t avoid a simple attack. How embarrassing. Do I need to teach you the basics all over again? Mhm, Megumi?”
Gojo needs to shut the hell up—that’s what he needs to do.
The whole thing feels surreal; like a waking dream where Megumi is trapped between all-encompassing pleasure and mental torture. Which, when it comes down to it, is a completely accurate description of what living with Gojo Satoru feels like; an endless flip between hold and cold Megumi could handle most of the time.
However, tonight is definitely not one of those times.
To be honest, Megumi isn’t even sure how much more of this he can take before snapping.
His instincts are going haywire and the constant flow of electric currents running through his body and down his cock only fuels his frenzy. His knot throbs painfully, aching to be buried inside the wet heat of his sensei’s pussy.
But Gojo refuses to give it to him. He has been playing this stupid game for too long now; straddled above Megumi, lowering and raising his hips in painstakingly slow and shallow grinds that make the alpha grit his teeth in an effort to hold his frustrated grunts in.
Megumi wants— no. He needs more. More than this awful teasing that Gojo is tormenting him with, dragging the soft, slick walls of his cunt up and down Megumi's cock but never letting his knot slip inside.
Megumi is going crazy, his reason clouded by primal urges that keep pushing him close to a feral state. His typical ruts are nothing like this. And Gojo doesn’t make it any easier by playing with his raw nerves like he insists on doing.
Frankly, Megumi would already have grabbed and slammed the omega down his cock himself if he could. And probably choked him a little too for good measure.
But as things are now, he can do neither of two, tied up as he is in Gojo’s nest. Supposedly, it’s ‘preemptive measure’ because they don’t know for sure if an induced rut is the only effect of this curse’s technique.
Like he could do anything against Gojo anyway.
Megumi is calling bullshit on that one.
And Gojo knows just as much; he’s just getting a kick out of it. Every rasp and groan he tears out of Megumi’s throat seeming to feed his own arousal, as the slick dripping from his cunt and trickling down the alpha’s neglected knot proves.
Megumi has rarely hated his sensei more than at that exact moment.
“Say, Megumi—what grade was that curse again?” Gojo asks, voice wavering as he sinks, a little too fast and a little too rough, down Megumi’s cock.
Actually—
Scratch that previous thought; Megumi has never hated Gojo more than now.
The alpha’s entire body is flushed red, sweating and shivering with the erratic beats of his heart and the pulse of his knot. Megumi is so desperate for relief—it hurts. His body is screaming for it. And he’s willing to bet that his scent is just as telling, reeking the whole room in tides of ozone and brewing storm.
And all Gojo can think of doing is riling him up even more by asking useless questions?
What the fuck is wrong with him?
“What.” Megumi grits out as bewildered as he is horny, his guts churning with a volatile mix of burning desire and sizzling anger.
Really, he can only blame himself. He should’ve known Gojo would take his misstep as another opportunity to drive him insane. And god, is Gojo the strongest even when it comes to that.
“Come on. Humor your sensei a little, mh?”
Absolutely not.
Formalities and paperwork are Gojo’s nemesis. He skips meetings whenever he can, always loathes debriefing on missions and dealing with reports and now— now he wants to talk about it? When Megumi is drooling to be knot-deep into him?
Megumi doesn’t realize he’s baring his fangs and growling before Gojo huffs and leans over him to grab his jaw in a tight grip, “You know better than that. Put those away before I muzzle you, pup,” he chides, a sweet smile twisting the sides of his lips when Megumi caves and manages with great efforts to rein his instincts back in, “Good. Now, answer ‘Gumi — what grade was it? Tell me. Or you won’t get to knot me tonight.”
Megumi’s eyes widen as he gazes up at his sensei.
Gojo wouldn’t— He wouldn’t do that to him... Would he?
Fuck, Megumi isn’t sure. Gojo is unpredictable, especially when he’s in a mood.
And he seems particularly in a mood tonight, the dark mirth twinkling in his eyes and the rolls of his hips slowing to a dying pace tell Megumi enough; he's not about to come anytime soon and Gojo is very keen to follow through on his threat. The omega is barely even fucking himself on Megumi’s dick anymore, just hovers over the crown of the alpha’s cock to keep his entrance clenched tight around it.
Megumi hisses furiously, fingers flexing into fists and pulling on his binds to free himself.
Torture. It’s pure torture.
And there is nothing he can do to escape it as he lay there, a stream of frustration slowly seeping into his veins like liquid fire to consume him whole as Gojo smirks and puts a stop to his attempt to turn the tide. The omega pins Megumi’s hips flat back on the nest every time they buck or jolt up; pathetic tries which only lead to Gojo raising himself higher on his knees until the tip of Megumi’s cock pops out of his hole to rest between puffy folds.
A wounded noise escapes Megumi’s throat. He hates begging and being this vulnerable but—
“Gojo-s-sensei... please, I don’t even—” Megumi forces himself to articulate through the spit filling his mouth.
“You don’t remember? Is that it?” Gojo cuts him off before he can say more, his tone laced with a surprise so faked, even the alpha can recognize it despite his hazed mind, “Convenient. Well, I checked for myself. A grade three, Megumi. It was a—grade—three.” Without missing a breath, Gojo impales himself again, and again, on the alpha’s rigid cock, pressing his hands down Megumi’s chest while his cunt is filled and almost stretched to his limits.
“Fuck—!” Megumi bites the inside of his mouth before Gojo tears another humiliating noise out of him.
It only spurs him on it seems, his sensei bearing his hips down over and over again to swallow his cock, “Don’t you think — I have better things — to do with my — time — Megumi?” Even Gojo is slowly losing himself. His words turn scattered, halted by filthy moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin that echoes every time the omega’s ass bounce on Megumi's pelvis.
Everything becomes hotter around them, heavier. The boiling warmth rolling inside the alpha’s veins seeps out to infect his sensei and fills the air, until their bodies grow shiny with sweat.
The fact that Megumi can still make sense of what Gojo is saying is nothing short of a miracle at this point. Stars are burning behind the alpha’s eyelids, blood rushing through his ears as a sickly heat climbs up his spine and spreads all over him.
“Better things — than dealing with the fallout of a grade — three?”
Gojo is pissed off. Megumi can hear it in the lower pitch of his voice and the sour scent of anise wafting from the omega but...
Fuck, it’s just. All. Too. Much.
Megumi is chasing after his long craved orgasm with frantic thrusts up into Gojo's pussy. His knot pops in and out of the omega’s cunt at a tortuous pace, and —nnhg, fuckfuckfuck— the sensitive tip of his cock pushes and presses against the deepest part of his sensei and—
“Focus.” Gojo demands. And just like that, Megumi’s spiral is cut short with a hand clamped around his knot.
The grip is enough to make the alpha’s eyes roll into the back of his head in a fit of pain. He also can’t help but trash below the taller figure that is now lying completely on top of him, an arm slipped between their bodies. When did Gojo even bear down on him like that? Megumi is losing it, his head drifting towards delirium. This whirlwind of aborted pleasure and mounting need clashes and leaves him raw and open, a mess.
Why? Is the only semi-coherent thought swimming through his daze. Why is Gojo so harsh on him when Megumi needs him for once?
“Fucking fine, I... I messed up! What do you want me to say? I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorry, please...” God, he’s so pathetic. Megumi’s voice sounds ragged and broken to his own ears when he’s able to find it again.
Please, please, please. Let him forget everything about the last hours once this cursed rut runs out of this system.
Especially when putting his pride to the side brings him nothing more than a tighter ring formed by the fingers encircling his knot, “Save your apologies, Megumi. And answer. Me." Gojo punctuates each word with another squeeze around the swollen base of his dick, making Megumi snarl and his cock twitch hard in the depths of the omega’s cunt.
“Do I have nothing more important to do than rushing back here — when I’m on the other side of the country — because I hear that my precious, my favorite student got stupidly hit by something even Shoko can’t heal?” Words flow out faster and faster the more Gojo talks, to the point that he’s out of breath when he’s done. He sounds completely hysterical too, like he’s genuinely furious for once and Megumi still can’t understand why—
Oh.
Megumi blinks, astonishment almost overcoming his delirious state of mind.
“Which one was it?” Gojo continues without giving Megumi the time to ponder on his words or even answer back. He has already let go of Megumi’s knot, to the alpha’s utter relief, to slip his fingers between the webs of Megumi’s own. Holding hands in a mockery of something romantic only to grasp Megumi even harder than the chains are doing.
Bit by bit, realization dawns on Megumi, the haze clearing just enough to finally see Gojo clearly again, and not through the rut-addled glasses.
“Yuuji or Nobara? Which one messed up so bad that you rushed in to save them?” Gojo forces his voice into a lilting tone, but it’s so painfully obvious how seething he is beneath it all, Megumi’s fingers going numb under his grip.
It makes a little more sense now, Megumi supposes, his heart beating so fast, he fears it’s going to jump right out of his chest.
Gojo is acting like that because he’s... What, worried? Scared for Megumi?
This man is a fucking headache.
“Ohhh, I bet it was Yuuji. Going for alphas now, Megumin?”
Megumi shakes his head. Figures that Gojo would do just about anything except talking about his feelings, like normal adults are supposed to when they're upset. He’s just lucky Megumi is too out of it to properly call him out on how childish he sounds right now.
“You're fucking crazy, I just did what I had to! A-and you know there’s no one else... It’s you, you, only you, always, just... Fuck— just, let me—”
“Shh,” Gojo shushes him with one finger on top of his lips and Megumi has to hold back from licking it, drooling like a damn dog at the sweet, mouth-watering scent clinging to the omega’s skin, “You missed your chance to talk, so now you'll listen. Very carefully.” Gojo adds pointedly as their gazes meet, and this is when Megumi notices how dark Gojo’s eyes appear. Familiar cerulean turned midnight blue.
“If you put yourself in unnecessary danger ever again— I’ll keep you right here. Tied up in my nest all day and all night, where I’ll know you won’t do anything stupid.” He hums, finger now gently stroking the alpha’s cheeks, “Am I making myself clear, Megumi?”
Megumi can’t be sure. Is it the closeness of their bodies? The smell of honey glaze and cherry assaulting him from everywhere? Maybe the cursed-induced rut or the tight walls clutching and fluttering onto his cock? It’s probably a mix of all of this, Megumi thinks, that messes with his head and body to the point that Gojo’s threat sounds strangely appealing and hot to his ears.
There’s no way a sober, clear-minded version of him would’ve felt his cock jump, twitch and leak obscene amounts of precum inside Gojo like he just has... Would he?
Megumi doesn’t want to even considerer this any longer, the burn of his cheeks and Gojo’s delighted laugh are punishment enough for now.
“Y-yes.” He finally answers low, ashamed.
“I can’t hear you, Megumin. Speak up.” Gojo’s tone is baiting, his smirk goading and the way he rolls his hips in deliberate, purposeful circles would have made Megumi walk straight off his nest on any other occasion.
However right now, he’s just too gone to refuse Gojo anything.
“Nghhh, yes! Yes, yes, I'll do anything you want! Just, please— let me knot you.”
Gojo sits back up, feeding Megumi’s cock deeper into his hole as he does. Soon, an indulgent smile lights up the omega’s face, “Of course! All you had to do was ask.”
What an a—
The thought doesn’t get any further than this before Gojo steals his breath away when he sinks down his knot in one squelching pop.
Yesyesyesfinally.
Megumi tosses his head back, muscles tensing and hips canting up as he comes undone, all of this build-up releasing so suddenly, his head is spinning with the overwhelming euphoria.
It’s nothing like his usual orgasms, normally fast and crashing down on him so heavily, they leave Megumi bare and weary. This one comes in waves of unadulterated bliss, ropes and ropes of come spurting out and filling the omega so much, even his knot isn’t enough to keep all the seed firmly inside Gojo’s cunt. It all spills out of him and lands over Megumi’s crotch. And this would’ve put him off if this was a normal night, probably made him wince at the idea of cleaning up that sloppy mess, but Megumi is on cloud nine right now and he doesn’t care about much else than his pleasure.
The floaty feeling coming along his climax is divine, like a glass of ice water after a trek in the desert quenching his parched throat.
Too bad it doesn’t last nearly long enough.
In seconds, the blissful sensation has faded to be replaced with the same thirst as before, leaving Megumi burning up again with his cock still rock-hard and a need to bury his knot somehow deeper into Gojo.
It isn’t done. Far from it.
His irritation at that observation is temporarily forgotten when Megumi forces his eyes back open, all of his senses instantly caught by Gojo and the ‘show’ he’s giving; the omega doesn’t even look in his direction anymore, too focused on his own pleasure now as he dips his fingers in the pool of come between their bodies to glide them smoothly over his clit.
It’s impossible to look anywhere else, the sight of his sensei too mesmerizing as he rubs his clit fast, drops of slick and come flying everywhere as he does, back arched and head falling backward so all Megumi can admire from his supine position is the long column of his neck and the unclaimed scent glands taunting him... Gojo’s whimpers are spilling out of his mouth and drowning out everything else, culminating until he reaches his peak as well in an ultimate cry, core clamping and squeezing Megumi’s sensitive cock.
Wow.
How could someone be so fucking hot and, oh so goddamn annoying at the same time? It’s unfair. A clear test of Megumi’s will.
As soon as his knot deflates enough, the alpha bucks his hips, once, twice before summoning tendrils of shadow to snap his binds open.
Gojo doesn’t even try to look surprised when in a blink, Megumi flips their positions to pin the omega on his back. His sensei only looks infuriatingly smug and relaxed, even when Megumi brings his hands to his neck, pressing on his throat and his scent glands cruelly while showing his sharp teeth.
“What. Is wrong with you?” He growls, trying to keep control. It’s a losing battle though, he realizes when Gojo’s addicting scent and the maddening thrill of the rut are getting to him at lightning speed.
“Now don’t be mean, Megumin. You still need me.” Gojo replies easily. Head tilted to the side to offer even more of his neck, submissive —as if— and letting Megumi take the reign like the alpha’s instincts were screaming at him to do from the get-go.
It’s getting too difficult to think. Too hard to remember why he’s mad at Gojo for when the omega gives himself to him like this; pushing his hips to rub his pussy all over Megumi’s pulsing length, shivering and blushing so sweetly when the alpha’s hands venture down his chest to pinch perky nipples.
Megumi’s knot swells back up.
“Come on, alpha... Fuck me.”
And the rest is a blur.