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Satoru Gojo wasn't scared of anything.
What even was there for the strongest sorcerer of today to be afraid of?
Other than, of course, confessing his massive crush on the pretty assistant he spent practically every day with?
And so what if anyone with eyes could see that he was hopelessly in love with you?
(Everyone except you.)
"A date?"
Gojo was pretty sure he was two seconds from puking. You giggled as you leaned across his desk, passing him paperwork in a terrifyingly tiny dress, one that clung to your thighs and chest, highlighted all his favorite places while you tilted your head like you were completely oblivious to his stare. When you messaged him on your afternoon and said you just had to stop by his office for a few minutes, he never dreamed you'd be dolled up like this.
Or that it wouldn't even be for him.
"I mean, right now, you're pretty much the only man in my life," you laughed, all sweet as you tapped an empty line for him to scrawl his signature by. "I'm just grabbing dinner with some dude from a dating app."
Some dude. You were going out with some dude, probably to some two-star rated restaurant that didn't even have a proper drink menu, instead of spending the night being spoiled by him. And in that goddamn dress, no less.
Did it have to be blue?
Hold you the way he wished he could?
"Yeah? Where?" He casually chirped, hoping you didn't pick up on how hard his jaw was clenched as you pushed out your bottom lip a little.
His tail wasn't the only thing twitching, his knuckles bone white as his grip on his pen tightened.
Gojo wasn't one for insecurity. Not when he'd been placed on a pedestal since birth. Blessed and chosen and beautiful and a billion other things that made him one of the city, no, the country's most eligible bachelors.
Except for the simple fact that he was a hybrid and you weren't.
It was't like it used to be. Hybrids had all the same rights, worked and lived in all the same spaces, no longer made normal humans stop and stare when they were out on the street. And despite some of the, uh, anatomical differences, people still had sex and found partners regardless of their hybrid status.
But he couldn't convince himself to come clean and risk ruining your relationship when he didn't know if you'd ever be interested in being with someone like him. Who wasn't just burdened by the weight of the sorcery world but heat cycles and knotting too.
Especially when he didn't even have experience in, uh, relationships in general.
"Not sure yet," you hummed, shrugging your shoulders without a single clue what was rattling around in his head. "Hope it's good though."
His mouth opened and words he wasn't even fully aware of started spilling out, talking just to fill the air, his brain scrambling to come up with some excuse to get you to cancel no matter unfair he knew he was. Babbling some nonsense about how boring his day was without you, mumbling something about a late-night café that just opened nearby you would like, earning one of those smiles that stole his breath as you teasingly rolled your eyes.
"You don't have to pretend like you'll miss me," you lightly scoffed, reaching one finger out and pausing just before you could poke his cheek. You probably thought he had infinity on, didn't bother testing his technique, although if you had, you'd see that he turned it off just for these private moments with you. "You just don't want to be alone to fill all this stuff out."
"That's not-" He protested, but his sentence died in his throat when you turned away from him, teetering a little on your heels as you bent over to pick up your purse from the floor.
"I'll come in early tomorrow morning if you wanna call it a night too," you suggested, pulling out your phone without looking at him. His chest straining as he pulled his blindfold back over his eyes. Sensitive ears perking up at the vibrations of your phone, maybe your stupid date sending you something, his chest tight and stiff as your lips curled up higher at whatever was on screen.
"Yeah, sure," he heard himself say, like it didn't hurt at all.
You glanced back at him, grinning as you lifted your hand up in a little wave. "Wish me luck, okay?"
He wished your date would break his fucking legs, actually.
ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ
The man sitting across from you was no Satoru Gojo.
Didn't have his flawless complexion, the creamy skin or the sharp edges, his blue eyes dull, boring in comparison to the brilliant shade that seared through you, his lips not glossy or remotely close to the same shade of pink when he opened his mouth to say something about stocks you couldn't really care less about as you contemplated how far he was from his profile.
But the biggest difference was the pointy ears you could make out underneath his hair you spotted when you climbed in his car earlier, the tail that stuck out of his clothes.
You didn't care if he was a dog hybrid, couldn't give less of a shit what breed he was - but it was a little off-putting that he didn't disclose it at all online, went as far as to hide it in his photos.
The first day you met Gojo, he'd let his tail wrap around your leg, throwing you a cheeky smile as he cracked an awful joke about not using a litter box to lighten the mood.
"I mean, it might be a little too advanced for you-" He continued, and you nodded without really paying attention to what he was even referring to. You hadn't even gotten your drink order yet, but your foot was already anxiously tapping the ground, attention drifting towards the exit as your brain suggested that maybe your night would've been better spent doing paperwork with Satoru.
He was still cute, you supposed, but something else about him was off-putting, his gaze making your skin crawl when he openly stared at your cleavage before dragging it over the rest of you like you were something to assess. You felt more like a piece of meat he was only interested in devouring, something to chew up and spit out instead of savor.
"Huh," he muttered at the end of his spiel, your pride taking a hit at the hint of disappointment in his voice, like you hadn't lived up to his expectations as he practically squinted at your tits.
"What?" You defensively pressed, daring him to say it and give you an excuse to go.
"Were you wearing a push-up bra in your pictures?" He accused, your jaw dropping at his audacity.
"No," you quickly answered, bristling as you felt the heat crawling up your cheeks in embarrassment.
He didn't say anything back immediately, still obviously looking, and part of you wondered for a second if it was just his excuse to be sleazy, trying to neg you instead of just giving you a goddamn compliment.
"Are you actually 6'3'?" You curtly asked in return, stiffly squirming in your chair as your anger frosted over into something hard and thick lodged in the pit of your stomach. You knew the answer was no, considering you spent all day every day chasing after a man who was. But even with the lifts you had suspected were in his loafers, you didn't think your date came close.
"Of course I am," he disdainfully scoffed back at you, his brows pinching together dramatically.
Only one of you was lying, and you knew it wasn't you.
But before you could tell him to trick the next girl, an unsuspecting waitress approached, notepad in hand as she beamed at both of you.
And while she introduced herself, rattling off memorized specials, you caught the way he appraised her too, your annoyance reaching a new peak as you suffered this fresh humiliation.
"What can I get started for you guys?" She innocently asked, looking at you first, pen ready to write down whatever you wanted.
"She'll have a salad," he answered before you could, condescending and sharp, and your eye twitched.
Satoru would have suggested ordering dessert for an appetizer. Probably would have maimed the poor excuse of a man at the table with you for having the audacity to speak for you.
You wished you said no.
Swiped fucking left on his stupid smirk.
God, you were starting to consider the chance he used fucking AI to write all those seemingly sincere messages to you when he obviously lacked the basic manners to let you order your own meal.
"You know what, I'll actually be leaving now," you coldly cut him off, pushing back the chair before you snapped and threw your water in his face. Pretending not to feel the sudden stares and attention all directed your way as you snapped at your date. "Clearly, we're not compatible."
"It's because I'm a hybrid, isn't it?" He glared at you, as if it wasn't because he was a ginormous asshole.
"It's because you're a fucking dick," you hissed back at him, snagging your purse while he spat out more accusations that you were discriminating against him.
You didn't indulge him with responding.
Storming past tables of gawking couples and curious strangers, trying to make it out before anyone pulled out their phone to record it and your face was plastered on social media.
Of course, because tonight couldn't get worse, it was pouring outside, rain pelting your skin and plastering your dress to you as you stomped down the sidewalk in your teetering heels.
Murmuring under your breath about what a dumb mistake you made letting that prick pick you up and not driving yourself, teeth chattering as you folded your arms across your chest to try and stop shivering. You debated on calling Satoru, asking him to come get you at the risk of looking absolutely pathetic as you avoided the puddles in the cracked concrete.
You only looked back once, just to make sure that you weren't followed, although you were convinced your date was definitely busy hitting on the waitress by now before you slipped out your own phone. Quickly unlocking it, thumb tapping away at the screen with muscle memory before you nestled it between your ear and your shoulder at the first ring, sniffling in the chill.
For a man who did more stuff in a day than most people did in a year, it only took him two seconds to pick up.
"Hey, sweetheart, are you-"
"Um, a-are you busy?" You tentatively asked, cringing at the fact you were basically calling your boss just because you went on a bad date.
But then again, he'd always been more like a-
Well, you weren't sure what category to put him in, but you'd like to think you meant more than just a glorified secretary.
"You want me to come get you?" He preemptively asked without even answering your own question.
"I mean, if you wouldn't mind," you sighed, looking around for the nearest street sign, mumbling your location into the phone as you massaged the tension from your shoulders.
Too distracted to even sense the curse until it slithered out of the shadows, a tentacle wrapping around your ankle and sending you stumbling to the wet concrete, phone clattering the ground as you gasped in surprise.
The ache of the impact was quickly dulled by panic when you propped yourself off and saw the absurd-looking thing. A dark mass of movement, your eyes struggling to focus as you scrambled back on clumsy limbs, only for it to drag you closer with a harsh tug.
You weren't like Satoru.
Barely had enough cursed energy to be considered a sorcerer.
That was the entire fucking reason you stayed out of the field when you weren't by his side, sticking to paperwork and putting up veils rather than fighting yourself.
A sharp sting struck your ankle, white-hot pain racing up your calf as you realized the fucking thing bit you.
Something sickly sweet suddenly flooded your senses, fire burning underneath your skin like someone had fried every goddamn nerve ending as your chest strained and threatened to seize, a hundred little stars floating across your vision as you reached for your phone, desperate to tell Satoru that he needed to get here now.
Was it pheromones? Some kind of strange poison filtering in through
The curse was doing something to you, the tentacle curling tight as the world swam and swirled, unable to focus when you couldn't so much as move.
Was this it?
Did you have to get some dick so badly you were about to die for it?
Before another tentacle could wrap around your throat, suffocate you or condemn you to a fate of being splattered on the sidewalk, its grip on your ankle disappeared, releasing you as a horrifying squish resonated in your eardrums.
"Date sucked?" A warm voice chuckled, strong arms scooping you up as you faintly detected a hint of concern in his usually carefree voice.
"I'm, ah, more of a cat person," you breathed, but it hurt, lungs aching as your fingers clumsily clutched at his uniform.
You started to turn your head, but he blocked your vision before you could catch so much as a glimpse at what happened to the curse.
"Nuh-uh," he softly scolded. "No looking."
You made some sound, meant to be a laugh, or a huff, but it came out more like a whimper, the world all fuzzy as you curled up in his arms.
"It bit me," you breathed, wincing as he hummed appraisingly.
"Let's get you to Shoko, then, hm?" He asked, like everything was alright now, like it would all be okay now that he was holding you.
It was the easiest thing in the world to believe that.
He just had that sort of effect on you - made everything softer, sweeter when you existed in his space.
Even if your body still felt like it was on fire half an hour later, tossing and turning on Shoko's couch while she shined a light in your eyes to test their reaction, unable to understand anything that left her mouth until Satoru gently held your body down so she could put an IV in your arm without you moving around to mess it up.
Somewhere in the haze, you guessed you must have fallen asleep, exhausted yourself enough that you dozed off, waking up to the curtains pulled in her dim apartment, squinting as you sat up and realized Satoru had fallen asleep sitting next to you, head propped up on the cushion as he drooled onto the couch.
"Satoru," you murmured, throat itchy and dry as you blinked, vaguely aware that something was different as you shifted uncomfortably.
"Mm?" He yawned, sleepily sitting up and stretching as he wiped the spit from his mouth. Satoru glanced up at you, and in a single instant, he was wide awake, blue eyes locking onto you with shock. He reached out, fingers trembling in front of your face before he abruptly stopped, standing up and starting down towards the hall. "Um, Shoko?"
Maybe you should've known then.
Figured out that maybe more was wrong than you realized. Especially when she walked back out of her bedroom and froze when she saw you the same way Satoru did.
"Looks like whatever it put in your system turned you into a hybrid," she wryly assessed when she started walking back over, bending down to get a better look while your jaw dropped open, ready to protest until she pinched one of your now fuzzy ears. "It might be temporary."
Might.
You felt like an idiot stumbling up and starting for the bathroom in her hallway, pushing open the door and flicking on the suddenly too-bright lights only to see what they did.
Turning around only to find a pretty gray tail, discomfort swirling in your stomach as the idea of fate pulling a prank on you started to set in once you realized you'd been turned into a cat hybrid in particular.
"Oh," you murmured, unsure what to do or say when you stared at yourself in the reflection, fingers reaching around to feel how fluffy your new tail was, sticking awkwardly out from underneath your tight dress.
"Suits you," Satoru snapped you out of it, his voice low and soft, your eyes flicking over to find him leaning against the doorframe, his own tail lazily swishing back-and-forth as he studied your own. "Cute."
"You think so?" You hesitantly asked.
"Pinky promise," he winked, mouth curling up in a small smile as he nodded back towards the living room. "You should go back to sleep. Shoko says you need more rest."
"Okay," you agreed, mostly because you halfway thought that this might be some dream, or that whatever weird side effects you were going through would be gone when you woke back up.
But you were wrong, once again.
Blearily blinking just to feel for your ears through your hair to confirm that you were still stuck like this. For now. Maybe forever.
Shoko let both of you crash for the night, and despite you insisting to Satoru that you were fine, he insisted on sleeping on the floor, refusing to leave your side.
You rolled off Shoko's couch, creeping past Satoru's dozing body just to find her making coffee in her kitchen, sipping it with a borderline bored expression as you tried to ignore your tail moving while you walked.
"Mind giving me a ride back today?" You yawned, covering your mouth as you glanced at the pretty sleeping man sprawled out with a loose blanket tangled around his long legs. "Have a few things to catch up on."
You kept a change of clothes in the office anyway. Could shower and refresh yourself in the locker rooms by the gym too.
"Uh-huh," she hummed, snagging a mug on the shelf to pour you coffee too.
Although, it only took you an hour and a half to regret the caffeine, leg bouncing anxiously as you sorted through the stack of files in front of you in Satoru's office, heart beating too fast as you re-read the same line for the fifteenth time.
Struggling trying to clear the haze from your head by burying it in paperwork, staring at the still mostly full to-go cup Shoko dropped you off with despite how much pent-up energy was already pulsing in your chest.
You tail felt weird, hanging out of a skirt that hadn't been designed for it, your ears picking up more noises that you never noticed before, fingers tapping the desk in an unsteady rhythm.
And when your phone buzzed, you practically jumped, sucking in a sharp inhale as your hand shot out to check it just to see a message from Satoru complaining about you leaving without waking him.
It was completely normal.
The same sort of thing he'd sent you a thousand times before.
But why the fuck did the idea of him sitting there and typing it out for you with those long, thick fingers of his, a cute little pout pushed out on his pretty lips make you so goddamn horny now?
You'd always found him attractive. Who didn't?
But he always existed in a different league. Sitting pretty on top of a pedestal you'd never be able to climb up to. He could have anything he wanted. Anyone.
Untouchable.
But all your inhibitions, all the rules and regulations you'd set in stone and stuck to since he hired you, were suddenly slippery, failing you when you needed to cling to them the most.
Your brain conjuring up the world's most unhelpful images of how hot he'd look between your thighs, how sweet his lips would taste if they were pressed against yours, how he'd surely fill up the irritating emptiness you were now acutely aware of.
As if he'd even be interested in you.
You squirmed, thighs pressing together as you swallowed the thick spit that just seemed to keep pooling in the back of your mouth. Tail twitching and curling behind your seat as you struggled for some comfort.
Everything was too warm, sweat pricking at your brow as your breathing slowed, searching for some part of your body still in your control.
Maybe you should've just gone home.
At least there, you'd be able to rub one out and torture yourself over how wrong it was to want him in private.
Was this a part of your, ah, transformation?
Or was this all you?
The door swung open to Satoru's laughter, his white hair messy as he readjusted his blindfold, a second set of footsteps following him as you realized Nanami had accompanied him to argue about one of his students, your face heating up hotter at both of them about to catch you in this...state.
"Satoru," you murmured, your voice cracking as it came out uncertain, glancing up at him with wide, wavering eyes. Trying to choose your words carefully as you chewed on the inside of your cheek, "Something is happening to me."
He pulled down his blindfold, blue stare piercing straight through you with an expression you didn't recognize, jaw locking hard and tight.
You thought you knew him better than almost anyone. Cheeky and carefree. Cold and calculated. From clan meetings he sat at the head of to complaining about curses over ice cream, you sort of thought there wasn't a single side of him you hadn't seen.
But you had never seen him make that face before.
And honestly?
You never wanted him more.
"Nanami," he bluntly said, a harsh edge to his voice that sent an electric tingle down your spine. "Get the fuck out."
ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ
The only thing scarier than admitting he was an idiot obsessed with you was admitting he must have trigged your heat.
That in his desperation to stay by your side despite the fact you were like him, he forgot what all that meant. That just his presence could trigger a certain biological reaction for, ah, breeding purposes.
It wasn't like he ever had to do it before.
He'd never been through one of his own ruts with anyone. He'd never been with anyone at all.
Sure, he'd seen porn. Knew the mechanics of sex, what he was supposed to do.
"You should go home," he murmured, no matter how all his instincts were begging him to bury his cock inside you right here, right now.
"I-" You hesitated, squirming all cute in your seat, blinking and silently begging him to be the one to crack and do something first.
He didn't even know if you knew what was happening. What your body wanted - and if it was even him it wanted it from.
"You're about to go into heat. Take a few days off, and don't leave your place," he muttered, his throat constricting as he picked up on your scent, nails digging into his fist as he bottled up all his own cravings. Knowing every second he stayed, he risked his composure cracking.
He tried to put some space between you, forcing himself to stare at the ground as he walked over to his desk, half-collapsing into his seat and hiding his face in his hands so he wouldn't be tempted to peek thorough them.
"Heat," you echoed, all light and airy, his resolve crumbling with one soft syllable. "Can't you help me?"
God.
HIs cock throbbed in his slacks, a familiar ache blooming in his core as he heard the creak of your chair.
"Sweetheart," he started, the lump in his throat bobbing as he spoke. Could he? "You don't know what-"
"I don't know what?" You teased him, too fucking close, delicate fingers wrapping around his wrists and pulled his hands down so he had to look at you.
"If I-" He paused, swallowing hard as you rendered him as close to speechless as he'd ever come when you tilted your head all cute when you got down on your goddamn knees in front him. "I won't be able to stop myself."
Your palms slid over his muscled thighs, squeezing softly as he let out a low grunt he hardly recognized, gritting his teeth as he held back the urge to growl, to push his cock between your parted lips until it was bumping into the back of your throat.
"Do you want to?" You asked, morning light streaming in through the window and bathing your pretty face in the warm light.
You needed him. Fuck, you needed him, and he was desperately trying to not show how much he needed you too.
"What?" He asked, feeling like a fucking idiot as he blinked down at you right as you started toying with his zipper. Flicking it slowly, like you were waiting for him to grant you permission.
"Do you want to stop?" You asked, brow arching up, ears twitching. "Or do you want me?"
"You know I want you," he heard himself say, nearly trembling as he finally came clean, the words hanging in the air as your mouth turned up in his favorite smile.
"Yeah?"
And funnily enough, now that it was out, he felt like he could tell you a million more times without getting sick of it. Caving into the part of him that knew you were meant to be his from the first day he met you.
"Yeah," he murmured. "With or without the tail."
It was all you needed to hear, pulling down his zipper as he hurried to tug down his pants enough to tug his cock free, his heart slamming into his ribcage as he watched you bring the swollen tip of it to your mouth, offering little kitten licks like you were trying to drive him fucking crazy.
But it didn't take long for your own need to start getting to you too, your nails digging into his thighs like little claws as you took him deeper, tongue pressed against his pulsing vein as you fit inch after thick inch in, one hand readjusting to start stroking what you couldn't fit.
Your mouth was warm, but it was just the sight of you sucking, cheeks flushed and hollowed out, six eyes searching and studying every gorgeous detail of your face as you bobbed up-and-down on his cock that nearly had him cumming down your throat when you barely began.
It was a billion times better than his own hand.
His pride swelling at how eagerly you worked, your fingers looking so much fucking better than his own wrapped around the base of his shaft, drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth. Letting him tangle his fingers in your hair, gripping hard as he started guiding you faster, tempted to throw his head back and groan, but too enraptured by how pretty you looked like to move a single muscle.
"F-fuck, baby," he hissed, a fever building in his chest that he knew would bubble over soon, sweat he hadn't noticed before starting to get stuck in his own hair as he spread his legs further apart to let you scoot closer, acutely aware of how hard you were squeezing your own thighs. "Feel so fuckin' good, y'know that?"
You couldn't reply with a mouthful of cock, but your lashes fluttered, eyes darting up to him, nose crinkling up like you felt the same.
"Probably fucked my fist to the idea of us doing this a thousand times," he babbled, moaning loudly as his girth got pressed up against the roof of your mouth, hardly-aware of what he was saying until you pulled back, still pumping his cock when you popped off. Saliva connecting the two of you together until you wiped your lips off, an adorable smirk curling up on them now.
"You jerked off to me?" You asked, and he knew he should be embarrassed.
But he'd never been good at embarrassment. And really, he was so sick of playing it cool around you.
"A lot," he admitted, knowing he was grinning like an idiot just for you to giggle too. "Did you ever-"
"Maybe," you murmured, your fingers pausing mid-stroke to slip up high, tracing over his sensitive slit to collect where your spit and his pre-cum had mixed together.
He caught your wrist before you could test the limits of his patience, see how much teasing he'd let you get away with, pulling you up in one mean tug. In half a second, he had shoved everything off his desk, papers scattering to the ground as he twisted you around and pinned you flat against the wood.
Gasping as your cheek got squished against the cool surface, wrist flexing in his firm hold as he clicked his tongue. And then he was shoving your skirt up, bunching it around your hips and letting your tail hang free, already eagerly swishing in anticipation as he ripped your panties clean off.
You were drenched.
Slick sticking to your thighs as he nudged them further apart, his throat nearly closing as your scent flooded his nostrils, sweet and strong and all his.
He wanted to bite. Sink his teeth into your throat and claim you. Make sure you didn't go on any other stupid dates or give anyone else the chance to see how gorgeous you looked like this.
Squirming and shivering, pretty pussy exposed and waiting for him to put a cute little hybrid in your womb, roll the dice and see who it took after.
"Last chance," he warned, his fingers digging into your wrist as he expended a ridiculous amount of energy just to cling to his restraint.
You threw a dramatic pout over your shoulder at him, pushing out your bottom lip, clueless how badly he wanted to suck on it. "What else do I have to do to get you to finally fuck me?"
How the fuck could he hold back when you were here, waiting on him, wet and wiggling your ass?
"It hurts," you added in a soft whimper, like you knew it would make him break.
His cock bobbed up as he wrapped his sturdy fingers around it, gliding over your entrance just to make you whine before he started edging it in.
And fuck, it only took him a few seconds to hate himself for not having you far sooner.
Feeling you squeeze around his fat girth and suck him in so sinfully as he fucked you right there on his desk, watching himself disappear inside your pussy as he shoved himself deeper. Listening to the cute little noises currently being ripped from your throat as you clawed at the smooth surface, having a hard time staying in one place when he was doing his damndest to split you wide open.
Operating on pure reflexes, doing what his brain was programmed to do no matter how much his body was unaccustomed to these actions.
"It's-" You whimpered, cutting yourself off like you were trying not to feed his ego.
Which had never been bigger than it was right now, inflating by the second at seeing your face scrunched up in pleasure because of him.
"Just relax for me," he purred, putting more pressure on your wrist and keeping you pinned there as he pushed the last few inches in, your ragged little breaths ringing in his ears as he tried not to get lost in your scent. "Let me make it better."
He could feel himself nudging against your womb, his abs tensing as he ached to fill it with his sperm, to fuck you until it took, until he knew you'd be waddling around in seven months carrying the next Gojo heir.
"S-Satoru," you stammered his name, and his first thought was how long would it take to convince you to take his last name too. To wake up to hearing your pretty little whisper in his ear as his wife, pump you full and press your face into his pillow next.
"Mhm, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his brain as he forced himself to slip out to fuck back into you, slow strokes at first, building up to a faster rhythm in response to your greedy cunt clamping down on him hard.
"M'full," you whimpered right as he grinded against that spongy little sweet spot to drag another moan out, lewd squelches echoing in the office as he pumped in-and-out.
Rutting into you with the faint fear that he really might never stop, not when it felt so fucking good, when it felt like home in your warmth.
Gojo laughed, high and airy, a crooked smile finding its way on his face when he thought about full you were about to be.
"If you want me to pull out, gotta do it now, baby," he murmured, hoping to whatever was out there that you'd tell him to cum inside you. To fill you up until you were dripping him all day long.
"Don't."
He nearly came on the spot.
Fucking into you faster, feeling more animal than human when his hips kept smacking into your ass, pressing his chest to your back as he wrapped his free hand around to fumble for your clit.
He knew it was clumsy, fingers twitching as he tried to massage it, reading your body language for some sign that you liked it, your body shuddering at the contact.
"I'm gonna fuckin' knock you up," he started rambling, leaning down even closer, sniffing your skin before dragging his tongue up your throat. "Put a litter in you."
Did that sound stupid?
He felt stupid saying it, self-conscious as a brief stab of anxiety struck his heart until you started nodding.
"P-please," you whined, like you might die if he didn't do precisely that. Thighs trembling as you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.
He couldn't help himself.
Not when it came to you.
The base of his cock swelling before he could so much as warn you, his mouth latching hard just above your collarbone as your body went stiff and rigid beneath him as the first spurts of warm cum started coming out in thick ropes, painting your insides while he claimed them for himself.
Would you consider being his mate an upgrade to his assistant?
Gojo sure fucking hoped so.
Biting harder as you moaned, toying with your clit as you twitched underneath him, some strangled sound that sort of resembled his name escaping right as the knot forced its way in, making sure no cum could leak out.
He hadn't even kissed you yet, but somehow managed to lose his virginity and possibly get you pregnant at the same time. You'd definitely say yes if he asked you on a date, right? To be his fiancé girlfriend?
"Am I living up to your fantasy?" You panted, and he was sure he was blushing, heat going straight to his head as he helplessly nodded.
"Better than my wildest dreams, baby," he promised when he finally broke the bite, voice painfully tight as his knot kept you locked together.
He kept painting circles over your sensitive bundle, picking up the pace as he tried to coax you through the tight fit, your walls squeezing him just right while he desperately tried to make you cum too.
"A-are you close?" He stammered, hating how lame he sounded, unlike the great Gojo he tried to make you think he was, swallowing hard as your head bobbed.
"Mm, harder," you half-whimpered, drool leaking out of your lips and collecting on your desk as your muscles tensed.
He might be part snow leopard, but he could listen to you like a dog. Wag his tail and obey, rubbing harder, applying just enough pressure to make you unravel for him.
His knot held tight while you came, bracing you through it as your body gave into him. He licked over the bruise blooming on your throat, soothing the sore spot as he murmured sweet nothings into your skin.
You were babbling now too, crying out his name as real tears rolled down your cheeks, ones he wanted to lap up too. You looked so beautiful like this, furry ears pinned back as his cock split you open, his swollen base preventing you from doing anything other than squirming as you came back down from your own climax.
Gojo already knew one round wouldn't be enough.
That he needed at least two more to satisfy the heat coiling tight in his own stomach, that he'd only feel better if he spent all day fucking you into overstimulation and he burned every little expression and moan of yours into his brain to replay whenever he wanted.
"Satoru," you breathed his name like it was all the air you needed, and he snapped from the spell your pussy had casted on him.
"Y-yeah, sweetheart?" He stuttered, hoping you didn't notice.
"Does this, um, mean we're like, dating now?" You asked, blinking fast as you managed to glance back at him with glossy eyes.
"This," he hummed, poking at the bite mark on your throat. "Means you're mine forever."