handsy toji who pulls and gropes at you whenever he can. hands trailing up and down your sides, starting off innocent but never really staying that way. always managing to work himself up whenever he gets his hands on your soft skin. quick to slip his hands under your shirt to play with your tits. smiling to himself when you moan quietly, his fingers tugging gently on your nipples.
pressing his hard cock into your ass from behind, pinning you between the kitchen counter and his body. groans rumbling in his chest as he not so subtly ruts into you, his dick aching at the sound of your pretty whines.
desperate to feel your cunt pulse around him but unwilling to take his hands off you, instead trailing one down to your pants and shoving in under your panties. cursing as he feels how wet you’ve gotten for him, fingers rubbing through your slick.
clearly impatient and horny when he immediately stuffs you full with a single finger, his head dizzy at how snug your pussy is. his smile only growing when he thinks about how he gets to open you up on his fingers just so you can take his fat cock.
obscene and slick sounds of your cunt filling the room as he pulls his finger in and out of you. his other hand still pawing at your tit, teasing you cruelly. a huffed laugh leaving him at how your legs shake, a second finger stuffed into you making it harder for your poor, dazed brain to keep you upright.
his dick twitches in his pants, hips jerking into your ass in a more obvious way. and yet, still unwilling to take his hands off you, maybe after you cum all over his fingers…
ѕυммαяу： ♡ love life in a tragic state and all dates going so poorly that it's no shock the small glimmer of hope you get from one guy, gets immediately stamped out too. it's a good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you!
cw ⤷ 𖥻 . ˖ ꒰ mdni ꒱ . smut . cheating (not by reader or gojo) . dirty talk . cunnilingus . fingering . spitting . praise . piv . creampie . multiple orgasms . biting . big dick!gojo . tease/mean!gojo. jealous!gojo. gojo is down BAD . use of pet names . fem!reader . s/her prns used ♯ 9.5k
Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.
Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. The hope of your date miraculously showing up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.
Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.
You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.
“I’m hurt you know.”
The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.
You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”
He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”
Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”
“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”
Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”
“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.
You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”
“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”
So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.
Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”
“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”
“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.
“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.
Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.
Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.
You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.
Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”
Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”
Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”
“…Correct.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually do show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.
Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.
His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”
“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.
“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”
Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”
“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”
“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he—”
You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. Asking, “Why is this bugging you?”
“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.
Challenging his logic, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”
He thinks on it for a second, “No.”
“See? That’s what I thought—”
“—But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.
“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.
His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”
You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.
After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you’ve chosen to listen to his complaint and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.
However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.
It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment—his assumed girlfriend yelling at him—you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really, really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.
For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”
You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.
Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”
He stutters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”
Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”
He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”
She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”
Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.
The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and descend to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.
He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”
You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”
“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so—”
“—Satoru.”
The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”
You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”
“You okay?” He checks.
You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”
His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”
It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”
“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.
You text him the address and then head out the front of the building where you wait for him. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with the evil man that was your date, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.
When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.
Turning your head to the side, “What?”
“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.
You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”
He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.
Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.
Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”
He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”
Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”
When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”
Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now—”
“—The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.
Humming out a, “Yes and—”
Again, he cuts you off, “—That’s pretty serious…”
I know but—”
“—Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.
You, on the other hand, are becoming somewhat annoyed. Pushing yourself out of the cushions to sit up and face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.
“Yeah but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different—” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.
“—Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.
He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”
“I don’t think it should, especially since—”
“—If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him—” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.
“—Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”
“Oh…” He feels bad now.
“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”
Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”
“Stop dating?”
Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”
Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”
He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”
You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other person who dates?”
“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he didn’t look so serious.
Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”
“Says you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”
You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”
His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”
“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.
So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”
His question catches you off guard, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”
He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?”
Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”
“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”
How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think—”
“—Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”
“We’re friends.”
“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”
The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”
He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”
Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”
“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.
Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.
He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”
You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”
“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”
You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.
Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”
“Like what?” He plays dumb.
“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.
“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”
“Satoru,” you warn.
“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.
He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”
Humming at you, “Why not?”
“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.
He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”
You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.
One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.
Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.
If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.
It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.
Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”
You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”
When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.
“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.
“Okay,” you nod.
“Hmm? Okay what?”
Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”
“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.
“Okay,” agreeing easily.
He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”
Again, agreeing, “Okay.”
“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.
“Ok—” frowning at him when you realise, “—Hey.”
“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”
Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.
Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”
“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”
You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”
His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”
Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”
He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.
Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.
“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.
“You need to stop kissing me.”
“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”
His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”
He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Mocking you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.
“Shut up.”
His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”
He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”
“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”
“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.
“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.
Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”
“What?”
He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”
“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t even planned.”
“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.
Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”
“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.
You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.
He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.
His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.
Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.
Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually—and somewhat purposefully—your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.
You both moan into the kiss, and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetie, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”
Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”
A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.
He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.
“Satoru—” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.
His erection digging into you hotly, the warmth of you ruining him. Head dizzy and struggling to keep his hips still as he apologises through clenched teeth, “Sorry– fuck– sorry, what’s up?”
You’re struggling too, pussy throbbing around nothing. Choosing to be bold and asking, “Take me to my room?”
“You’re sure?” Trying to hide the excitement from his face.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.
You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.
When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.
“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.
The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”
You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself; palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.
“Gojo, breathe.”
“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”
Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.
“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.
You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.
“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”
You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.
Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”
The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. You’re falling onto your back with the force of his pull, squirming a little. Gojo doesn’t pause though, mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.
“Gojo, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.
Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”
He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”
He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”
Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”
You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin prickling at his hot breath tickling against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.
“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.
“These are some really cute panties… kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?
Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”
Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”
“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.
He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”
The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.
“Hey! those were my good pair!”
“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”
God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”
“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”
He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.
Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”
Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”
“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “You’re wearing a really great expression right now though.”
Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”
He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”
You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.
Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.
He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.
Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”
“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.
His head moves to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”
You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.
“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.
Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.
He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, got such a creamy fucking pussy.”
You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.
“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”
You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.
He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.
“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.
He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.
Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.
Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”
You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”
Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”
“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.
“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.
You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”
“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.
“…Like it,” you mumble out.
Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”
Repeating, louder, “I like it.”
Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”
“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.
He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.
“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.
You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.
“Gojo! Oh—” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.
Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.
Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo– hah– more, please.”
Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.
A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.
He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.
“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants– ffffuck—” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.
Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.
“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.
A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.
“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”
You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.
It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.
“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.
His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.
“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.
After he’s done indulging, he wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs. Just to then get to his feet and hastily tug his pants and boxers off. His erection bobbing under its own weight.
He crawls up the mattress so he can lean over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”
Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”
“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.
His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”
“You sure—”
Cutting him off, “—Yes.”
Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.
Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.
“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.
Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”
“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”
Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.
Your head cocks to the side, confused by his stare, “What?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”
He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.
You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.
“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.
Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”
“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”
“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.
It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.
Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.
You whine at him over it, “Please.”
Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”
Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.
“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”
“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”
You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably—definitely—sound advice.
“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”
Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.
He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.
Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna– hah—”
Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.
“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.
“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”
You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”
Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.
“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”
“Gojo—” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.
His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “—No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.
“‘Toru, you’re—” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “—so deep.”
“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.
He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.
Without thinking, you admit, “I have– mmph– I’ve liked you mm–multiple times– ah– at different points in– hah– our lives.”
His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”
You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.
“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”
“I don’t remember that, too many– hnn– different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.
He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you– mmph– can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our– hah– whole lives.”
His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you– hah– remember the most recent time you liked me?”
He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.
“Not– hah– not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.
“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.
Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started– hah– going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the– hng– year?”
Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”
He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.
“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”
“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.
Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.
Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck—”
Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo—”
“—No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.
Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want—”
You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.
Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.
“Feels– feels good, I—”
“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.
Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline feral begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.
“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”
Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.
Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.
Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.
Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he laves over it with his tongue.
He slumps down onto you, and his weight is too much so your hands push at him. “Too heavy.”
He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.
Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.
“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.
“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”
You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”
“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”
You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.
α.η. THIS IS A REPOST .. a repost from my old account @/lovelivision, if you feel like you've read it before, maybe you have !
i'm hoping to finish up pervert bf gojo very soon and in the meantime you guys get another repost because i am filled with guilt ! i think the next time i upload another old fic it won't be gojo
regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed ! have beautiful days / nights !! ily ❤︎❤︎
꒰꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel .. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。
ѕυммαяу： ♡ love life in a tragic state and all dates going so poorly that it's no shock the small glimmer of hope you get from one guy, gets immediately stamped out too. it's a good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you!
cw ⤷ 𖥻 . ˖ ꒰ mdni ꒱ . smut . cheating (not by reader or gojo) . dirty talk . cunnilingus . fingering . spitting . praise . piv . creampie . multiple orgasms . biting . big dick!gojo . tease/mean!gojo. jealous!gojo. gojo is down BAD . use of pet names . fem!reader . s/her prns used ♯ 9.5k
Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.
Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. The hope of your date miraculously showing up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.
Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.
You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.
“I’m hurt you know.”
The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.
You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”
He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”
Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”
“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”
Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”
“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.
You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”
“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”
So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.
Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”
“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”
“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.
“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.
Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.
Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.
You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.
Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”
Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”
Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”
“…Correct.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually do show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.
Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.
His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”
“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.
“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”
Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”
“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”
“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he—”
You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. Asking, “Why is this bugging you?”
“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.
Challenging his logic, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”
He thinks on it for a second, “No.”
“See? That’s what I thought—”
“—But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.
“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.
His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”
You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.
After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you’ve chosen to listen to his complaint and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.
However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.
It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment—his assumed girlfriend yelling at him—you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really, really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.
For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”
You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.
Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”
He stutters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”
Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”
He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”
She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”
Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.
The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and descend to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.
He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”
You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”
“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so—”
“—Satoru.”
The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”
You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”
“You okay?” He checks.
You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”
His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”
It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”
“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.
You text him the address and then head out the front of the building where you wait for him. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with the evil man that was your date, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.
When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.
Turning your head to the side, “What?”
“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.
You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”
He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.
Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.
Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”
He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”
Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”
When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”
Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now—”
“—The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.
Humming out a, “Yes and—”
Again, he cuts you off, “—That’s pretty serious…”
I know but—”
“—Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.
You, on the other hand, are becoming somewhat annoyed. Pushing yourself out of the cushions to sit up and face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.
“Yeah but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different—” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.
“—Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.
He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”
“I don’t think it should, especially since—”
“—If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him—” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.
“—Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”
“Oh…” He feels bad now.
“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”
Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”
“Stop dating?”
Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”
Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”
He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”
You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other person who dates?”
“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he didn’t look so serious.
Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”
“Says you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”
You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”
His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”
“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.
So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”
His question catches you off guard, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”
He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?”
Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”
“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”
How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think—”
“—Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”
“We’re friends.”
“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”
The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”
He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”
Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”
“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.
Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.
He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”
You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”
“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”
You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.
Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”
“Like what?” He plays dumb.
“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.
“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”
“Satoru,” you warn.
“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.
He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”
Humming at you, “Why not?”
“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.
He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”
You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.
One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.
Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.
If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.
It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.
Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”
You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”
When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.
“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.
“Okay,” you nod.
“Hmm? Okay what?”
Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”
“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.
“Okay,” agreeing easily.
He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”
Again, agreeing, “Okay.”
“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.
“Ok—” frowning at him when you realise, “—Hey.”
“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”
Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.
Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”
“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”
You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”
His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”
Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”
He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.
Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.
“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.
“You need to stop kissing me.”
“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”
His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”
He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Mocking you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.
“Shut up.”
His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”
He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”
“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”
“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.
“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.
Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”
“What?”
He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”
“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t even planned.”
“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.
Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”
“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.
You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.
He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.
His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.
Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.
Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually—and somewhat purposefully—your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.
You both moan into the kiss, and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetie, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”
Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”
A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.
He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.
“Satoru—” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.
His erection digging into you hotly, the warmth of you ruining him. Head dizzy and struggling to keep his hips still as he apologises through clenched teeth, “Sorry– fuck– sorry, what’s up?”
You’re struggling too, pussy throbbing around nothing. Choosing to be bold and asking, “Take me to my room?”
“You’re sure?” Trying to hide the excitement from his face.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.
You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.
When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.
“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.
The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”
You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself; palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.
“Gojo, breathe.”
“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”
Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.
“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.
You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.
“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”
You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.
Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”
The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. You’re falling onto your back with the force of his pull, squirming a little. Gojo doesn’t pause though, mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.
“Gojo, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.
Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”
He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”
He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”
Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”
You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin prickling at his hot breath tickling against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.
“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.
“These are some really cute panties… kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?
Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”
Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”
“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.
He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”
The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.
“Hey! those were my good pair!”
“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”
God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”
“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”
He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.
Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”
Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”
“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “You’re wearing a really great expression right now though.”
Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”
He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”
You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.
Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.
He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.
Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”
“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.
His head moves to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”
You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.
“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.
Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.
He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, got such a creamy fucking pussy.”
You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.
“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”
You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.
He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.
“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.
He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.
Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.
Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”
You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”
Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”
“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.
“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.
You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”
“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.
“…Like it,” you mumble out.
Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”
Repeating, louder, “I like it.”
Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”
“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.
He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.
“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.
You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.
“Gojo! Oh—” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.
Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.
Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo– hah– more, please.”
Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.
A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.
He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.
“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants– ffffuck—” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.
Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.
“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.
A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.
“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”
You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.
It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.
“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.
His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.
“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.
After he’s done indulging, he wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs. Just to then get to his feet and hastily tug his pants and boxers off. His erection bobbing under its own weight.
He crawls up the mattress so he can lean over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”
Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”
“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.
His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”
“You sure—”
Cutting him off, “—Yes.”
Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.
Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.
“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.
Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”
“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”
Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.
Your head cocks to the side, confused by his stare, “What?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”
He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.
You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.
“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.
Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”
“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”
“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.
It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.
Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.
You whine at him over it, “Please.”
Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”
Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.
“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”
“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”
You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably—definitely—sound advice.
“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”
Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.
He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.
Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna– hah—”
Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.
“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.
“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”
You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”
Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.
“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”
“Gojo—” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.
His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “—No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.
“‘Toru, you’re—” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “—so deep.”
“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.
He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.
Without thinking, you admit, “I have– mmph– I’ve liked you mm–multiple times– ah– at different points in– hah– our lives.”
His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”
You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.
“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”
“I don’t remember that, too many– hnn– different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.
He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you– mmph– can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our– hah– whole lives.”
His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you– hah– remember the most recent time you liked me?”
He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.
“Not– hah– not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.
“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.
Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started– hah– going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the– hng– year?”
Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”
He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.
“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”
“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.
Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.
Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck—”
Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo—”
“—No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.
Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want—”
You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.
Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.
“Feels– feels good, I—”
“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.
Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline feral begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.
“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”
Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.
Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.
Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.
Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he laves over it with his tongue.
He slumps down onto you, and his weight is too much so your hands push at him. “Too heavy.”
He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.
Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.
“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.
“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”
You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”
“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”
You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.
α.η. THIS IS A REPOST .. a repost from my old account @/lovelivision, if you feel like you've read it before, maybe you have !
i'm hoping to finish up pervert bf gojo very soon and in the meantime you guys get another repost because i am filled with guilt ! i think the next time i upload another old fic it won't be gojo
regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed ! have beautiful days / nights !! ily ❤︎❤︎
꒰꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel .. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。
ѕυммαяу： ♡ love life in a tragic state and all dates going so poorly that it's no shock the small glimmer of hope you get from one guy, gets immediately stamped out too. it's a good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you!
cw ⤷ 𖥻 . ˖ ꒰ mdni ꒱ . smut . cheating (not by reader or gojo) . dirty talk . cunnilingus . fingering . spitting . praise . piv . creampie . multiple orgasms . biting . big dick!gojo . tease/mean!gojo. jealous!gojo. gojo is down BAD . use of pet names . fem!reader . s/her prns used ♯ 9.5k
Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.
Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. The hope of your date miraculously showing up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.
Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.
You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.
“I’m hurt you know.”
The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.
You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”
He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”
Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”
“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”
Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”
“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.
You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”
“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”
So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.
Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”
“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”
“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.
“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.
Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.
Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.
You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.
Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”
Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”
Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”
“…Correct.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually do show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.
Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.
His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”
“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.
“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”
Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”
“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”
“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he—”
You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. Asking, “Why is this bugging you?”
“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.
Challenging his logic, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”
He thinks on it for a second, “No.”
“See? That’s what I thought—”
“—But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.
“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.
His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”
You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.
After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you’ve chosen to listen to his complaint and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.
However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.
It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment—his assumed girlfriend yelling at him—you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really, really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.
For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”
You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.
Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”
He stutters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”
Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”
He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”
She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”
Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.
The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and descend to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.
He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”
You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”
“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so—”
“—Satoru.”
The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”
You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”
“You okay?” He checks.
You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”
His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”
It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”
“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.
You text him the address and then head out the front of the building where you wait for him. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with the evil man that was your date, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.
When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.
Turning your head to the side, “What?”
“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.
You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”
He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.
Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.
Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”
He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”
Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”
When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”
Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now—”
“—The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.
Humming out a, “Yes and—”
Again, he cuts you off, “—That’s pretty serious…”
I know but—”
“—Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.
You, on the other hand, are becoming somewhat annoyed. Pushing yourself out of the cushions to sit up and face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.
“Yeah but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different—” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.
“—Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.
He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”
“I don’t think it should, especially since—”
“—If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him—” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.
“—Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”
“Oh…” He feels bad now.
“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”
Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”
“Stop dating?”
Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”
Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”
He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”
You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other person who dates?”
“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he didn’t look so serious.
Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”
“Says you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”
You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”
His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”
“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.
So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”
His question catches you off guard, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”
He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Why not?”
Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”
“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”
How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think—”
“—Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”
“We’re friends.”
“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”
The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”
He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”
Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”
“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.
Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.
He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”
You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”
“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”
You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.
Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”
“Like what?” He plays dumb.
“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.
“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”
“Satoru,” you warn.
“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.
He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”
Humming at you, “Why not?”
“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.
He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”
You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.
One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.
Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.
If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.
It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.
Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”
You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”
When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.
“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.
“Okay,” you nod.
“Hmm? Okay what?”
Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”
“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.
“Okay,” agreeing easily.
He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”
Again, agreeing, “Okay.”
“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.
“Ok—” frowning at him when you realise, “—Hey.”
“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”
Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.
Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”
“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”
You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”
His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”
Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”
He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.
Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.
“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.
“You need to stop kissing me.”
“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”
His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”
He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Mocking you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.
“Shut up.”
His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”
He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”
“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”
“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.
“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.
Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”
“What?”
He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”
“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t even planned.”
“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.
Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”
“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.
You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.
He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.
His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.
Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.
Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually—and somewhat purposefully—your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.
You both moan into the kiss, and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetie, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”
Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”
A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.
He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.
“Satoru—” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.
His erection digging into you hotly, the warmth of you ruining him. Head dizzy and struggling to keep his hips still as he apologises through clenched teeth, “Sorry– fuck– sorry, what’s up?”
You’re struggling too, pussy throbbing around nothing. Choosing to be bold and asking, “Take me to my room?”
“You’re sure?” Trying to hide the excitement from his face.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.
You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.
When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.
“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.
The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”
You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself; palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.
“Gojo, breathe.”
“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”
Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.
“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.
You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.
“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”
You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.
Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”
The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. You’re falling onto your back with the force of his pull, squirming a little. Gojo doesn’t pause though, mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.
“Gojo, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.
Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”
He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”
He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”
Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”
You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin prickling at his hot breath tickling against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.
“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.
“These are some really cute panties… kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?
Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”
Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”
“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.
He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”
The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.
“Hey! those were my good pair!”
“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”
God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”
“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”
He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.
Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”
Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”
“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “You’re wearing a really great expression right now though.”
Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”
He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”
You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.
Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.
He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.
Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”
“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.
His head moves to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”
You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.
“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.
Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.
He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, got such a creamy fucking pussy.”
You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.
“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”
You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.
He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.
“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.
He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.
Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.
Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”
You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”
Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”
“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.
“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.
You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”
“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.
“…Like it,” you mumble out.
Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”
Repeating, louder, “I like it.”
Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”
“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.
He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.
“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.
You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.
“Gojo! Oh—” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.
Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.
Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo– hah– more, please.”
Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.
A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.
He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.
“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants– ffffuck—” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.
Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.
“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.
A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.
“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”
You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.
It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.
“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.
His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.
“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.
After he’s done indulging, he wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs. Just to then get to his feet and hastily tug his pants and boxers off. His erection bobbing under its own weight.
He crawls up the mattress so he can lean over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”
Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”
“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.
His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”
“You sure—”
Cutting him off, “—Yes.”
Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.
Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.
“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.
Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”
“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”
Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.
Your head cocks to the side, confused by his stare, “What?”
“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”
He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.
You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.
“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.
Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”
“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”
“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.
It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.
Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.
You whine at him over it, “Please.”
Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”
Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.
“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”
“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”
You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably—definitely—sound advice.
“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”
Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.
He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.
Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna– hah—”
Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.
“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.
“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”
You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”
Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.
“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”
“Gojo—” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.
His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “—No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.
“‘Toru, you’re—” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “—so deep.”
“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.
He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.
Without thinking, you admit, “I have– mmph– I’ve liked you mm–multiple times– ah– at different points in– hah– our lives.”
His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”
You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.
“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”
“I don’t remember that, too many– hnn– different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.
He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you– mmph– can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our– hah– whole lives.”
His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you– hah– remember the most recent time you liked me?”
He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.
“Not– hah– not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.
“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.
Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started– hah– going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the– hng– year?”
Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”
He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.
“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”
“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.
Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.
Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck—”
Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo—”
“—No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.
Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want—”
You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.
Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.
“Feels– feels good, I—”
“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.
Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline feral begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.
“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”
Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.
Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.
Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.
Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he laves over it with his tongue.
He slumps down onto you, and his weight is too much so your hands push at him. “Too heavy.”
He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.
Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.
“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.
“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”
You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”
“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”
You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.
α.η. THIS IS A REPOST .. a repost from my old account @/lovelivision, if you feel like you've read it before, maybe you have !
i'm hoping to finish up pervert bf gojo very soon and in the meantime you guys get another repost because i am filled with guilt ! i think the next time i upload another old fic it won't be gojo
regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed ! have beautiful days / nights !! ily ❤︎❤︎
꒰꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel .. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。
be kind to yourself angel!!!! we’re all excited for upcoming fics but not at the cost of your wellbeing! make sure to get good rest soon and treat yourself to something you love!!
you’re so sweetie,, i’m okay! i’m doing better than i was :3 i played a lot of sims and drew a little so i’ve done things i enjoyed and i’m awake and ready to get back to work !!! thank you sm for your ask though .. you’re so kind 🩷🩷🩷 and i appreciate you vv much for this (о´∀`о)
i’m trying to finish it but i’m having a hard time focusing and also i need to make him a bigger pervert than i usually do and im having a hard time toeing that line ૮ >⸝⸝⸝⸝< ა
i should probably sleep …… if i don’t finish the fic im working on tomorrow then im gonna repost another old fic because i feel really guilty IM SORRY IMSORRY IM SOOREY
ѕυммαяу： ♡ having a sex dream about your best friend is incredibly embarrassing but when he drags the information out of you and delivers something better than your dreams, it's hard to remember why you were feeling that way. . .
Having a sex dream about your best friend—Gojo Satoru—was not on your bingo card for this year but it happened and the result of it is you avoiding any and all eye contact with him. This would be significantly easier if he wasn’t always hanging around you, it would also be easier if his favourite pastime wasn’t invading your personal space.
Your odd behaviour must’ve reached a breaking point for him because he’s sat next to you on your couch, pouting out, “Why are you being so weird?”
“I’m not,” you deny despite your very obvious weird behaviour, still not properly looking at him.
Suddenly, his head is on your lap, eyes analysing your reaction to him, “You’re a bad liar.”
“Wha– What are you doing?” He has you fumbling and it only embarrasses you further. “Get off me.”
“Tell me why you’ve been avoiding me or I’ll literally never get off you, in fact… I will only get closer,” one of his hands moves to grab at your waist but you slap him away.
His head weighted on your thighs has you remembering your explicit dream of him and you can’t help but grow a few degrees warmer in temperature. “I can’t tell you.”
Gojo frowns at that and you hate how you’re noticing just how attractive he is even though he’s growing annoyed, “It involves me directly, but you can’t tell me?”
“That’s right,” you cement, like it shouldn’t even be an issue.
He sits up again and stares at you dead on, “Tell me or I’ll tell all our friends about… the incident.”
A small breath of disbelief leaving you, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” his eyes stern, he’s completely serious.
You try bargaining, “It’s not that deep, Satoru… give me another week or two and I’ll be completely over it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“So, you’re blackmailing me?!”
“I wouldn’t call it that, that’s such an ugly word,” he shakes his head.
Your brow raises at him, “What would you call it then?”
“I don’t know but not that,” he shrugs easily.
“You’re so annoying, I can’t believe I even—” you cut yourself off, realising you were about to freely give away that you couldn’t believe you had a sex dream about him. It’s frustrating that it was such a good dream too because he’s so annoying in real life.
Despite you stopping yourself, he clings to your words, “‘You can’t believe you even’ what?”
Playing dumb is your only defence but to be fair, you aren’t entirely convinced you’re playing anymore, “I don’t know.”
He stares at you for a moment before speaking again, “Okay, well, I’m calling it blackmail now, I’m officially blackmailing you.”
“Evil, evil man,” you accuse.
He motions at himself with his hands, dismissing your words, “Mhm, now tell ‘Toru all your problems.”
“Ew,” you grimace at him, “that was almost as bad as when you referred to yourself as ‘daddy’.”
Smirk on his face at your response, “Would you prefer that? I didn’t know you were into—”
“—I said almost as bad!”
“Sure, whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “now tell me what’s going on, I won’t let you wiggle your way out of the main issue at hand.”
“Fine,” you groan, giving in, “but you have to promise to not be weird or make it a big deal.”
His head tilts at you, “What? Like you mean how you’ve been doing?”
“Just promise, stupid,” you grumble at him.
“I promise,” he pauses, “sort of.”
“Seriously?”
“I said I promise, now come on,” he leans in, ready to listen, “lay it on me.”
Ignoring his giddy attitude, you take in a deep breath before carefully letting it out, “Well… the other night, I was sleeping—”
“—Truly groundbreaking stuff.”
“Don’t interrupt me or I will never tell you,” you glare at him.
“My bad,” he raises his hands in surrender.
“Anyways,” your heart is hammering in your chest because it’s so embarrassing to be looking at him as you try to confess. It feels like you’re being crushed under his intense gaze, it’s making you even more nervous.
He must be able to tell you’re working yourself up, “Geez, calm down, sweetheart, whatever it is it’s not that big of a deal.” He moves to pat your head as a means to comfort you, but you flinch away.
And before you can control it, you’re suddenly blurting out, “I had a sex dream about you the other night and now I feel really funny around you.”
The reaction from him isn’t immediate, only blinking back at you for a moment before suddenly turning his head to the side as he tries to hide his laugh but the snort he lets out gives it away. Your lips are downturned as you suffer through the agonising moments of mostly silence, the embarrassment you’d already been feeling growing tenfold at his reaction.
Wordlessly, you rise from the couch and go to walk away, to go away to anywhere but here in this moment. Gojo stops you though, his hand on your wrist pulling you back to the sofa. Now closer to him than you had been before, something you’re overly conscious over. Keeping your head turned from him, annoyed at his reaction and also your lack of tact.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologises, “I’m not laughing at you, I swear.”
“You need to get out of my apartment.”
“Don’t be so harsh,” he whines, “I have follow up questions.”
You pull your wrist from his grasp, still refusing to look at him, “I don’t wanna answer them, you only want to torture me.”
“Not true!”
He tries to get back in your line of sight, but you keep turning your head away. Your arms cross over your chest, almost like you’re trying to shrink in on yourself.
“I’m curious about a few things now though,” he hums at you, “since your reaction to having sex with me has been so cute.”
His phrasing is so poor that it has your head whipping to look at him and his overly pleased expression, “I did not have sex with you.”
“Right, right,” he waves off, “you dreamt about having sex with me.”
“I dislike you so deeply right now.”
“If you agree to answer my questions, I will literally never bring up the fact that you had a wet dream about me ever again.”
You point at him angrily, “It was not a wet dream! What the hell is wrong with your phrasing of things?!”
He smiles sweetly as he grabs your finger, using the hold he has on you to unfurl your hand and loop your fingers together to hold hands, “Are you gonna answer my questions or not?”
“If I do… you’ll never speak about this again, right?” You try pulling your hand from his but his hold on you is firm.
“Sure,” he agrees all too easily.
You glance down and away from him, “Fine.”
“Perfect!”
And at his incredibly joyful tone, you can’t help but feel like you’ve made a misstep somewhere along the way. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him… or maybe you should’ve concealed your reactions more effectively… or better yet, your stupid brain shouldn’t have conjured the image of you and him having sex to begin with.
Glancing at your interlocked fingers, you ask, “Can you let go of my hand now?”
“Why? Is it making you uncomfortable?” His tone isn’t upset or accusatory, only curious.
Sighing at him in response, “I’m embarrassed to even look at you right now, of course it’s making me uncomfortable.”
He, thankfully, releases his grip on you. Choosing not to taunt you any further but you have a feeling it’s only a small reprieve. Just as your heartrate is finally calming, he asks, “Was I good?”
You’re completely taken aback, knowing what he’s asking but still confused by his bluntness, “What?”
“Was I good?” He repeats shamelessly. “I’d be a little offended if I weren’t.”
If you have to answer his ridiculous questions then you’re going to be purposefully vague, “You were… fine.”
He hums thoughtfully, “You won’t even look me in my eyes, and you said you’re feeling funny around me so I was either horrendously bad or really great, which is it?”
“I don’t like your questions,” you grumble at him.
“I wanna know though,” he whines, “It’s your fault for being so weird about it.”
Your body droops into the couch, head resting against the back of it, “A normal person and good friend would take this information at face value and let me live quietly with my shame.”
“I disagree,” you can feel his eyes on you, but you still won’t look at him, your own eyes closed. He continues on, “I’ll let you live quietly after you tell me everything I want to know… probably.”
You squint your eyes open at him, “There is literally nothing in this for me, you’re blackmailing this information out of me.”
He grins at you, “Are you saying you’d respond better to positive reinforcement?”
“I’m saying I’m still reluctant to answer your embarrassing questions and it’s starting to feel like if I do, I’m only giving you future blackmail material.”
“This is untrue, I’m blackmailing you, yes but I also agreed to never bring it up again if you answer my questions.”
“Oh my god!” this is getting annoying, steeling your nerves, you decide you’re just going to answer everything so you can end this quickly, “You were good, it was a good dream.”
A stupid and happy smile takes over his face, you don’t bother reading too far into it. “You said you were feeling ‘funny’, what do you mean by that?”
“Huh?”
“Funny could mean any number of things, I’m asking for specifics here,” he’s still too happy and it’s annoying you because you don’t really understand why.
“Hmm, like…” you look at him intently to better think about how you feel, your heart fluttering as you do, causing you to close your eyes as if you’re in thought, “…I feel embarrassed to have had a dream like that about you.”
He pushes back on your answer, “That’s all?”
Cracking an eye open at him as you chirp, “Yep.”
His gaze is already trained on you, apparently never having stopped looking at you, “You’re such a bad liar.”
You deflate at your failed deception, “I think we’ve just known each other too long…”
“You’ve always been a bad liar though?” He claps his hands together suddenly and it makes your heart skip a beat, “Now, out with it.”
Quiet as you start your explanation, “Every time I look at you…” he nods his head as if to encourage you, “…I think about the dream and it makes me feel funny, that’s all, can you leave me alone now?”
His lips purse as he mulls over what you’ve just said, “You sure you’re not just horny?”
“Satoru!” you chastise him, shocked and also frustrated that he’s pretty much hit the nail on the head. Ever since your dream you can’t help but look at him differently. Mind feeding you images of what having sex with him might be like—what having sex with him was like.
“I’m being genuine.”
“That makes it worse,” kicking your legs a little about it all.
He starts giggling, “You had a dream about getting fucked by me so good that just being around me turns you on.”
“Stop!” you move to sit in front of him properly, face clearly unhappy, “I did not say that.”
“You basically did,” he dismisses, “So… what did I do to you?”
It’s a bit ridiculous that he’s going in this direction, but you should’ve known he was going to do this. You need to shut him down because just his words alone are affecting you more than you care to admit, “I’m done answering your questions.”
It’s his turn to groan and grumble, “Aww, but it was just getting good.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you say with the intention of ending this interaction, “Satoru… It doesn’t matter what you did in my dream because there’s no way you’d be that good in real life.”
The smile on his face drops, “I can’t help but take that personally.”
“Take it how you will,” you shrug, “there’s no way you could live up to the dream version of you, it’s not logical.”
“Wanna find out?”
“Don’t be childish,” you brush him off, overlooking the way those words send a shock through you.
He pushes, “Treat it like an experiment, I wanna know what’s better.”
Blinking back at him, “You’re so weird.”
Quickly pointing out, “Maybe, but you’re the one who dreamt about fucking this weirdo.”
“Yeah, dreamt, it was a dream.” You shake your head in disbelief at him, “Why are you acting like you’re jealous of dream you?”
“Maybe I am jealous of dream me.”
“That’d be stupid.”
“You’re always telling me I’m stupid.”
Gojo’s eyes keep flitting to your lips every time you speak, the look in them suddenly much darker than the glee that was held in them when he was teasing you earlier. Trying to be stern but not entirely convincing when you state, “I’m not going to have sex with you for a reason as stupid as that, grow up.”
“But you’ll have sex with me for a good reason?”
“Stop putting words in my mouth,” you tilt your head at him in exasperation, “why are you even acting like this?”
Ignoring your question and instead posing his own, “You sure you’re not curious, not even a little bit?” His hand cups the side of your face, his thumb pulling down on your lower lip, “I know I am.”
That simple touch has your heart leaping bounds, suddenly so hyper aware of how deep the effect he has on you is. It scares you, how much you want him, how much you want to say yes. You shouldn’t get carried away, he’s being ridiculous, this is all so ridiculous. Your years long and best friendship could be ruined because of this moment.
All things you’re worried about, all valid concerns, all thoughts that slip from you so quickly when he leans in and licks teasingly at your lower lip. The gasp you let out is his entrance into your mouth, his lips plush and demanding against yours. Eyes falling shut as you let yourself get lost in his kiss, full and delightful and something you’ve never felt before.
It’s messy and uncoordinated, like he’s not really focusing on how to kiss you and more on the fact that he gets to kiss you. You’re getting dizzy, body buzzing pleasantly at how he sucks on your tongue. String of saliva keeping your lips connected when he pulls back, snapping as he wipes his lower lip with his thumb, only to then push it into your mouth. Your immediate response to suck, feeling depraved but enjoying the look on his face you get when you do.
He speaks under his breath, eyes a little dazed, “Fuck.”
As soon as your tongue licks against the tip of his thumb, he’s pulling it from your mouth and hurriedly slotting his mouth over yours again. Barely giving you a moment to think before he’s kissing you so completely, consumed by his need and the delicious way he partakes in your lips.
It’s so overwhelming, to be desired like this is foreign and has your thighs clenching together. Gaining confidence when you finally wrap your arms around his neck, a move he appreciates if his groan and grabby hands are anything to go off of.
The way he parts from you is full of huffed and short breaths that only ends in him kissing you again, like he’s fighting with himself to say something, to do something more but ending up not strong enough to move on from your lips.
A pathetic moan that you don’t even recognise as your own leaving you, the sound only spurring Gojo on. Using his body to push against yours until your back is on the couch, not bothering to explain what he’s doing, far too busy and far too fixated on how you taste.
Filled to the brim with thoughts about how good his kiss is, how kissing can’t possibly be this good, how you’d let him do more. Fingers threading through his hair, nails scratching against his scalp in a way that pulls a shudder from him.
What feels like far too soon he’s properly pulling back, quickly putting distance between you both so he’s not immediately gravitating back. Arms holding himself up, hovering over you, taking his sweet time to appreciate the look on your face. Pride exuding from him at what he’s reduced you to with a few kisses.
“Stop staring, Satoru,” your voice comes out more whinged and unfortunate than you were hoping.
“No.”
It’s a simple response, one that’s weighted with meaning and intention. Maybe if you weren’t only concerned with how good of a kisser he is, of how you want more, of how he looks indescribably good over you, you’d ask him why he’s acting this way. Maybe you’d even ask what this means for your friendship but when you’re in this deep and enjoying it this much, thinking that deep slips from you all too easily.
“I’m gonna touch you,” his gaze wanders over your body before looking back to you, “okay?”
Already nodding back at him, “Okay.”
And only when you verbally affirm him does he let his greedy hands travel your body, sitting back on his knees so he can grope at your thighs and hips. You can tell he’s enjoying your squirming immensely, eyes simultaneously lidded low and lit up.
Quickly glancing to meet your eyes when he asks, “What did I do to you?”
It takes your brain a second to catch up to his words, stuck on his big hands resting against your hips, his fingers digging into your plush skin. “You mean…”
“In your dream,” he slips into your waistband and starts to slowly pull your pants off, “what did I do to you in your dream, sweetheart?”
You feel your skin heat, his fingers tickling against your thighs. “I’m not answering that.”
A low hum sounds from him as your pants are finally removed and tossed to the side, “Why not?”
Keeping your legs together, self-conscious of the fact you’re in your underwear below him. Though he’s not bothered at all, groping and massaging at your thighs, “What happened in that dream is private.”
“That hardly seems fair,” his eyes bore into your own, “since I was there and all.” Paying no mind to your small protests as he manoeuvres one of your legs to rest against his side, feeling much more exposed now that he’s spread your legs.
“Satoru, you can’t just!– mmph—”
Further protesting cut off abruptly when he places his palm on your lower stomach, thumb drawing over your covered slit. His touch there was unexpected but not unwelcome, small shocks of pleasure thrumming through you.
“Did I use my fingers?” he keeps stroking your cunt, touch light and nowhere near enough to satisfy. “How about my mouth?” pausing to blatantly stare at your pussy, not even really addressing you when he adds, “please tell me I used my mouth,” his last words come out pitchy, almost like he’s begging for it to be true.
“I don’t know why you keep bothering to lie to me,” he murmurs low, using both thumbs to pull apart your folds, pressing into your hole only to be stopped by the material of your panties.
His action has you shooting up, face to his chest, your hands grab onto his shirt and all he does is chuckle at you. “Stop playing with me,” you huff at him.
Leaning down, he drags his lips over your skin gently. Leaving behind soft kisses all over your neck and chest, blowing air by your ear just to make you twitch. Voice almost a whisper when he asks again, “What did I do to you?”
“You’re embarrassing me,” you look through your lashes at him.
His smile is pleased, “Yeah, well, you’re turning me on.” Grabbing you by your hips and pulling you into his lap, your cunt pressing right into his erection, “Feel that?” He can’t help the way he gives small grinds into you, your warmth too enticing, “All your fault, so tell me what I did to you.”
The grinds he’s giving you feel too good, he’s big and so hard and couldn’t he just, “Can’t you just put it in?”
He laughs airily, surprised by your need and shifted focus, “I think you can feel enough to know that I can’t.”
“You were nicer to me in my dream,” you pout at him.
“Somehow, I doubt that—” his head drops back and a soft groan leaves him, getting lost in how you’ve started to rut down into him.
Thinking back to your dream, you decide to mention, “You did.”
Distracted reply coming from him, “Hmm?”
“Use your mouth, I mean—”
Just as you’d gotten the words out, he’s pushing you flat on your back again, not even pausing to think as he pulls your panties off in one movement. Settling between your thighs impatiently, eyeing up your cunt, “You been holding out on me.”
Your legs thrown haphazardly over his broad shoulders, “Wait just a sec—”
“—Why?” Tongue already hanging from his mouth and hovering over your pussy, just about drooling onto it.
The sight of him has your brain rebooting, “No– nothing.”
Keeping his eyes intently on you when he licks your whole pussy, smiling at how your mouth drops opens and hips squirm, “You’re cute.”
“You– you’re– hnn—” you don’t get to retort properly, his tongue flicking at your clit each time you try to say something.
“Mhm,” he’s enjoying this, you can tell, his tone too amused. “You’re so wet, practically begging for me to put my mouth on you.”
And then he shoves his tongue inside you, holding your hips down so he can fuck you with it. Delighting in the moans tumbling from your lips, cunt syrupy sweet and begging for him to stuff it full. Swallowing down all you have to give him, shudders running down his spine as his cock jerks in his pants. He’s been horny ever since you admitted to having had a sex dream about him. And if he’s being completely honest, maybe since he had his head in your lap.
It feels a little cruel that you kept it from him for so long, he would’ve gotten on his knees for you the second you asked him to. Groaning into your pussy when your hole tightens around his tongue, pressing his face closer to you. Nose stimulating your clit with how desperate he is to taste your cunt.
He’s messy in how he’s devouring you, sloppily making out with your pussy. Small groans leaving him as he relishes in it, like he’s getting just as much out of this as you are. It’s too good, back arching and thighs fighting to close, held open by his wide frame between your legs. This is the first time someone has gotten you so close so quickly, it’s almost embarrassing how easily he’s about to make you cum.
Gojo knows you’re close, it excites him, he wants your cum in his mouth, he wants to feel how you shake underneath him. But there’s something wicked inside him that wants to tease you a little more. Choosing instead to wait until you’re just about to finish before suddenly pulling back.
You whine at him, eyes wet when you look at him in confusion. He only smiles back at you, tongue licking his lower lip before he asks innocently, “I forgot to ask, did you cum like this?”
Brain taking a moment to catch up before realising he’s still asking about that damn dream, “I don’t– I think so?”
Pressing open mouthed and wet kisses over your inner thighs, remarking, “Not very memorable, was it?”
Somehow, it feels like he’s trying to compete with his dream counterpart, and the thought is just ridiculous. “It was very memorable,” you’re only hoping to be a little teasing but by the look in his eyes he takes it personally. Opening his mouth wide and chomping down onto your thigh, biting you enough to nearly break skin. You jump at the shock, “Hey!”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, licking over the impression of his teeth before pressing a kiss to it, “try remembering this instead, yeah?”
It’s a little bit cute of him to be so jealous of your dream, “You’re stupid.”
He knows he’s stupid, he’s all too aware of it but that changes nothing to him, “I’d be more careful with your words if you wanna cum,” blowing air onto your clit, reminding you of how close you were.
“Satoru…” you don’t really like how he’s got you backed into a corner right now.
He hums in acknowledgement at you, “Need something?” Head leaning against your thigh as he smiles smugly up at you.
How frustrating of him, to know exactly what you want but choosing not to give it to you for his own enjoyment. “You’re a tease,” you huff at him.
“Hmm… not usually,” his hand slides up your inner thigh, single digit slipping inside your hole, “I think that’s something you bring out of me,” pleased with the small sounds you let out at his finger stuffing you.
Gasped moan leaving your lungs, trying to tell him how unbearable he is, “You’re– hnn!—”
A sound of awe leaving him as he drags his finger out, “How obscene, you really are so fucking wet.” He says it like you should be ashamed of yourself but he’s smiling too big, eyes full of loving obsession. Clearly incredibly happy with how dripping and soaked your cunt is, “Basically drooling for it, sweetie. How embarrassing~”
You might have to kill him because he really is embarrassing you. Hell, it was already embarrassing doing this with your best friend and now he’s teasing you for his own sick pleasure, “Stop…” not able to help the completely pathetic look on your face, “…stop being so mean to me.”
Gojo feels his heart drop and then start beating a million miles an hour, you’re so cute that he can’t help but breathlessly laugh, “My bad, will making you cum make up for it?”
“Yes,” you assert.
Ah, his head is spinning, you might be too much for his poor heart to handle. He can’t bear having you upset with him though, pressing soft kisses to your pussy lovingly. It’s as if he’s apologising for being so cruel to you, deepening his kiss to your cunt by stuffing you full of his tongue again.
The way you twitch and moan under him really does drive him wild, how he’s going to stay sane while fucking you is beyond him. Lapping at your sopping cunt so devotedly, eyes dazed and pussy drunk as he watches how your eyes roll and brows pinch. Giggling to himself at how surreal it is to be tongue deep inside you, to have you this needy for him.
When he suddenly pushes your legs back, you squeak. Damn near folded in half and bent for him, “Satoru, you can’t just– mmph!—”
He doesn’t grace you with the kindess of listening properly, simply going back to eating your pussy like it’s his last meal. The way he’s holding you is pornographic in nature, a position you’ve never even thought to be in, and he’s easily manhandled you into it. Lower back no longer even touching the couch, held up by Gojo.
With how he’s positioned you now, all your dewy slick and his saliva slides from your cunt and drips crudely onto your poor couch. Head dizzied as he gets you closer and closer to finishing, building you up so much faster after the loss of your last orgasm.
“I– ah!– so close– mmph—” you don’t want him to stop, hand holding onto one of his on your hip tightly, begging that he doesn’t pull away again.
Lucky for you, he desperately wants you cumming for him. He barely brought himself to deny you the first time, there’s no way he could do it a second. Completely and whole heartedly dedicated to making your pussy cream for him, salivating at the thought alone.
Moans you don’t even register pulling from your lungs as he finally pushes you over the edge, hips shaking as you try to ride out your own high with little success. The position you’re folded in keeping you at his mercy. Orgasm feeling oh so sweet after he denied you, lashes fluttering as it washes over you.
Gojo hums happily into your pussy, drinking down all your creamy slick and then still not parting from you. Too addicted to your scent, to your taste, ignoring all rationality as he keeps licking and sucking at your cunt. Whining when your weak fingers dig into his hair and pull him back by force, shaking underneath him from how he’s nearly forced you into overstimulation.
“Too much,” your voice trembles with your words.
His lower face is a complete mess of you and you’d feel bad but the stupid smile and dazed look he’s wearing tells you that you don’t have to. “You got a great pussy,” he compliments, moving his thumbs so he can lewdly pull your cunt wider for his greedy eyes.
“Ah!– stop staring, have you no shame?”
Eyes flicking to yours when he states seriously, “None.”
You’re feeling far too exposed in this position, “Can you let me move—”
Ignoring you and instead musing aloud, “—How many fingers do you think you could take?”
“What?”
“Your hole was tight around my tongue so maybe only one?” Slipping a single finger inside you and stroking against your walls. Your back fights to arch and a soft mewl sounds from you, “ahh, that’s a nice reaction. Let’s stretch you out yeah?”
“You’re so– hnn!—” barely biting out, “You’re such a pervert.”
His head tilts at you, “Did you expect anything else?”
Managing to babble out, “Weren’t so– hah– perverted– hnn– in my dream– mmph—”
“I take pride in that,” his chest vibrates with his words. Of course he takes pride in it, why wouldn’t he? Stuffing another finger inside your snug cunt and scissoring them, trying to open you up enough to be able take him, “This sweet pussy might fucking kill me, I don’t know how you’re gonna take me.”
Could he have a bigger ego? “Don’t be ridiculous– hah!—”
“I’m not just being cocky, sweetie.” Fingers brushing up against so many spots you can never quite reach on your own, “You might actually struggle to take it all.”
Eventually giving you a third finger, spread wide around his digits and leaking into the palm of his hand. He’s got you a squirming and moaning mess under him, mind melting from the mouth-wateringly sinful way he’s playing with you.
“Satoru– hnn!—”
“Something wrong?”
Now he knows damn well… “Please, just– hah—”
He laughs at your whimpered neediness, completely aware of how bad you want him inside of you. “Being real cute right now.”
“Don’t—”
“—Don’t what?” Using his fingers to tease your most intimate spots.
“‘Toru– hnn– please,” lower lip wobbling as you pout at him, “I want you…”
That’s not fair, you’re not playing fair at all. “You’re evil,” he mumbles at you, cheeks and tips of his ears flushing red with how turned on he is, “but I’ll give you what you want, since you’re so adorable.”
Thick fingers drawing from your cunt, the loss of him pulling a whine from you; it makes him smile. You’re genuinely so pathetic right now and aside from how horny it’s got him; it’s also got his heart stuttering in his chest.
“Take your shirt off,” he points at you, letting you finally lower your bottom half to the couch.
Grumpily following his instruction, feeling especially docile right now, “You’re being too bossy.”
His words come out a little muffled as he pulls his own shirt off, “Your pouting would have more effect if you weren’t also listening so well.”
“Maybe I’ll stop listening then.”
He stands from the couch to tug down his pants and boxers, brows drawn together and head tilting, “When you’re this close to finally taking it all?” Holding the base of his hard cock, tone smug.
Embarrassed for yourself at how your cunt throbs for him, desperate in a pitiful way that you’ve never imagined yourself being over him or anyone. “Are you in any position to be this big of a tease?”
“For you? Always,” he taps your thigh and leans onto the couch again, “now spread your legs for me.”
Already opening up to give him room before really thinking twice on it, hating that you’re this willing to follow his instruction. His hands on you are gentle, almost reverent in how they trail along your inner thighs.
Gojo can’t help himself, touching you as much as he can, wanting to prolong this whole experience. Your skin so soft and delicate under his touch, fingers digging into your flesh just to see proof of him touching you. Completely bare and willing under him, heart hammering in his chest at this fact.
Dragging his cock through your sopping wet pussy, shivering at just how gooey your cunt is. Not intentionally trying to torture you but doing so anyways, squirming and impatient under him the more he plays with you.
“Satoru,” voice pitchy, “please.”
Not moving immediately, only cursing as he gazes at you all lost.
You wrap a single leg around his waist and pull him forward, encouraging, “C’mon.”
Smug expression suddenly back on his face, “Alright, here we go,” tapping at your entrance a few times first. “Ohh, biiig stretch,” word drawn out and provocative as his cock head slowly slips inside you.
Big stretch is fucking right, chest squeezing as you struggle to adjust. Hands gripping onto his biceps for dear life, needing to be grounded.
One of his hands reach out and strokes against your head, you keen into his touch and he chuckles. Leaning down to whisper, “You need to breathe, sweetheart.”
His hips have stopped moving forward but it hardly seems like it, already feeling obscenely full. “H–how much– hnn– more?”
Gojo dips his head down to look at where your cunt is bulging around him, teeth digging into his lower lip as he stifles a strained laugh, “Not much at all.”
“Are you lying?” Unable to help the way your lip wobbles a bit with your question.
“Yeah,” he thrusts just a little bit more into you, “but you’re doing so well, feel fffucking fantastic.”
You’re clawing at his shoulders, feeling like you’re being stretched to your limits, “Why– ah!– why is it so big?” Somehow, you feel annoyed at him for it.
“I’m God’s favourite,” is how he chooses to reply, ego growing tenfold at how you’re falling apart just from the shallow thrusts he’s delivering.
How the hell are you meant to take all of him, “How– hah– how much?”
He can’t take his eyes off how you’re sucking him in, hands gripping your hips and thumbs drawing circles into your skin soothingly, “Why don’t you just watch for yourself?”
You shake your head at him, eyes scrunched shut, “No.”
“And why not?” Still, he’s feeding you more of his cock, your pussy pulsing around him making him dizzy, “It’s a good fuckin view.”
“Don’t– hnn– don’t torment me.”
Blinking your eyes open to give your best glare, it only comes across half hearted. Completely taken with the look on Gojo’s face, flushed pink with his pupils blown wide, teeth digging into his lower lip again to stop from whining. Eyes flicking to yours and he’s completely melting when seeing just how pathetic you are under him, moan stumbling from his lips so suddenly that it takes him by surprise.
He's just as big of a mess as you and it has your cunt positively creaming around him, turned on by the fucked out horny look on your best friends’ face. Gojo shudders at your pussy getting slicker around him, his dick jerking inside you.
“Getting this– hah– wet over your best friend…” fucking his hips quickly, pelvis now flush to yours, “…how shameless of you.”
You’re quivering around him and writhing under him, the feeling of being completely stuffed full overwhelming on its own. His taunting cruel and mocking and unfortunately turning you on that much more, upset that you’re letting him get away with it.
Lips downturned when you fire back, “You’re more shameless– hnn– pervert.”
Gojo can only be charmed by your weak insult, especially since he’s pretty sure you’re unaware of how your hips are twitching under the weight of his hold. Fighting upwards for the hope of getting fucked but kept frustratingly still by him. Your neediness has piqued his interest, now wondering how long he can stay still until you’re shedding tears out of pure frustration. Quickly growing addicted to the idea of teasing you like this.
He's so still it’s driving you crazy, able to feel his dick twitching inside you, veins throbbing against your sensitive walls. Obviously wanting it just as bad as you but still not moving, shifting one of your hands to tap at his on your hip, gaining his attention.
Eyes on his, “What are you waiting– mmph– for?”
God, the look on your face is killing him, so sweet under him. It’s almost like you’re coming apart already, his hands dig into your thighs and it has you keening under him. Pitiful whine leaving you as your hips start grinding into him quickly, trying to alleviate some of the desire you’re feeling.
“Now why on earth…” he straightens his back up more, pulling your lower half up with him, not giving the chance for his cock to slip from you, “…are you this touch starved?”
“Huh?” it’s the only response you’re capable of giving, having finally seen just how he’s shoved inside you. Cunt stretched obscene around his fat dick, dripping happily and syrupy sweet around him. Chest fluttering at the shock and excitement.
“I’m so sorry for not noticing, sweetie,” he coos at you, “I would’ve helped you if you’d told me.”
Complaining back at him, “I am not touch starved.”
“You definitely are,” he trails his hand from your hip, up your side, just to show you how you twitch into it, “it’s okay though, I’ll take good care of you.”
Pussy shivering involuntarily around him, giving away that you’re lying. How he managed to know you were deprived, you have no idea but the fact he did is embarrassing to you. He doesn’t need to be aware of how long it’s been since you were last touched so intimately.
“I—”
“—Don’t bother lying again,” he keeps caressing you where he can reach, “I’d much rather hear about how much you like when I touch you.”
Maybe he’ll start moving if you’re honest, “I like when– hah– you touch me,” pouting slightly and barely fighting off the shudder running down your spine at his touch.
“Good,” he smiles at you, all glib, “‘Cause I’m gonna touch you. Lots.”
Eyes sparkling at him, hoping, “Does that mean you’re– ah– hnn– actually going to fuck me now?”
“Why?” his head tilts at you, “Do you want it?”
Giving your best glare back at him, he’s proven to you sufficiently by now that he can read you incredibly well, much to your dismay. Muttering out, “Dream you was– hah– much more indulgent of me.”
“Ouch,” though he says that, he doesn’t seem hurt at all, “Dream me was a fool then ‘cause you’re much more fun to play with like this.”
He’s being so evil, “Can’t you just give me what I want?”
“I might,” his gaze is lecherous as his eyes rake over your body, “if you ask for it properly.”
“Satoru…” you try to call out to him as sweetly as possible, “…please fuck me?” lip quivering slightly as your neediness bleeds through your façade of togetherness, “please?”
Gojo’s heart squeezes in his chest, he’d planned on tormenting you a little more but he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep his sanity any longer. Already he feels like he’s a second away from cumming, caught between wanting to give you everything you want and teasing you until you cry. He guesses he’ll just have to settle for fucking you until you cry this time, next time, he promises himself he’ll tease you properly next time.
“Satoru?”
Your voice breaks him out of his reverie, grin back on his face, “I heard you, pretty. I’ll give you what you want.”
Dragging his cock from you slowly, so slowly, the heavy weight of him pulling out driving you up a wall, insides shuddering. Broken and gasped moans leaving you, rushing out quick, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, oh—”
The laugh that leaves him is too attractive, amused by your gratitude for something like this. It’s cute how the thank-yous just keep tumbling from your lips over and over as he keeps pulling back to the tip of him.
“Don’t thank me for that…” his hands dig into your hips more, “…thank me for this,” slamming into you all at once with his last word.
The wind is completely knocked from your lungs, shocked whine louder than you’d want it to be. Desperately clawing at any part of him you can reach, struggling to take it and keep it together. Feeling like you’re completely melting, head spinning as pleasure thumps through your veins.
“Mmph– I– ahh—” barely coherent as your eyes fight to not roll to the back of your head, “thank hnn– you.”
Small giggle leaving him at just how adorable you’re being, heart hammering in his chest as he sets a consistently mind ruining pace. He can’t wipe the fucked out smile off his face as he keeps pounding into you, giddy with how he gets to have you under him like this.
Babbling varied compliments, “You’re so adorable,” he huffs out a whimper, “hnn– and you’re so fucking tight around me,” less coherent as he carries on, “God, and so fffucking wet– hah– what the– so hot– I—”
He feels insane, how you’re this warm and perfect around him has him at a loss. Almost like you were made just for his cock, something he’ll let himself believe because the idea of you being with anyone but him breaks his heart a little bit.
Hypnotised by how you’re sucking him back in, clinging onto his dick desperately. It’s almost like every time he pulls out, you’re begging him to fuck right back in, and of course he’ll comply. The idea of pulling out before he’s finished with you a painful thought, not willing to give up this moment even if someone walked in on the two of you.
Such a genuine thought, he’s completely certain that someone could walk in on you both and his thrusts wouldn’t even slow down. If anything, they’d speed up, finally he’d get to show off how you’re his. Possessiveness tumbling around restlessly in his head, his dick only getting harder.
All you can do is take it, take all of the jaw slacking and toe-curling pleasure he’s delivering you. Your pussy making obscene sounds as he fucks into you, skin hot from how depraved it all feels. Gojo looks so completely wrecked, eyes glazed over, lips still moving as he continues to mutter out sweet praise. Praise that would probably have your insides flipping and body growing hotter, but you can’t hear anything but your heart thumping in your own ears.
Delirious grin making its way onto his face as he’s struck with a wicked realisation, large hand sliding its way from your thigh to your stomach. Pressing down the littlest bit and watching how you squirm and shudder under him, gasping for breath and hands slapping at him, trying to speak.
“Don’t– hnn– don’t do that– ah!– too much– it feels too—”
“What? Good?” He hisses out, still managing to be taunting.
“It’s too much– hah– mmph– I’m too sensitive,” your eyelashes feel wet, like you might’ve started crying but you can’t even be sure of that right now.
His hand presses down more into your tummy, “I know you are~” he giggles a little, “it’s turning me on.”
“Seriously– hnn– don’t– I’m gonna– ah!—”
He’d completely ignored your pleas causing you to cut yourself off with a moan, orgasm suddenly washing over you. Spasming hot and snug around him, so sinful that he’s shocked by his own high, cumming deep inside you as you shake and shiver around him.
“Ohh, you’re– haah– you’re killing me sweetly,” Gojo’s head feels like it’s spinning, swimming in so much euphoria as he grinds into you.
You’ve slumped under him, trusting him to keep a hold of you, not even thinking to chew him out for making a mess of both your cunt and sofa. Brain feeling all fuzzy and melted in your skull, blissed out from how good you’re currently feeling.
Busy basking in the afterglow when your world is suddenly spinning, Gojo’s taken advantage of your rag-dolled state and flipped you over onto your stomach. Quickly realising that he’s still hard when your hips are being pulled up and his cock is sliding through your folds.
“You gotta stay with me, pretty,” he groans, positioning his tip at your hole, “we’re– hnn– not done yet.”
“Satoru– ah!—”
Both your moans are debauched and loud as he stuffs you so fucking full all at once, lungs seizing in your chest. If he weren’t holding your hips so tight, you would’ve collapsed to the couch. Your fingers dig into the cushions below you, biting back pitiful sounds that so desperately want to leave you.
“Don’t– don’t do that,” he shoves inside you somehow that little bit more, “let me hear you, sweetie.”
Sulking back, “Noo– hah– it’s embarrassing—”
“—It’s arousing,” he counters, skin on fire with how badly he wants to hear you moan for him.
He supposes it’s fine though, he’ll just have to drag those sweet sounds from you himself. Giving sharp and angled thrusts, purposefully driving right into all those delicious spots he found earlier while playing with you. Grinning wide, overly pleased with himself when you squeak out the cutest moan he’s ever heard.
He’s falling apart inside you, wrapped around your little finger and you don’t even realise it. He didn’t even intend to cum earlier, you just felt too good. All sticky cum and clingy walls, he couldn’t help himself.
Able to feel how his cum leaks out around his shaft, hear how your pussy gushes with his cock inside you. He feels borderline feral, something deeply possessive dancing around in his heart at how your cunt squelches around him, stuffed full of his hot semen.
The desire to see his face hits you, remembering just how good he looked as he got lost in how pleasurable everything felt. Whining pitifully below him into the couch, feeling far too shy to tell him how much you enjoy looking at him while he fucks you stupid.
“Satoru– hnn– it’s—” drooling onto the couch as you moan out to him, “it’s good– hah– it’s too good– it’s good~” nearly sobbing with just how damn good it feels.
“I bet,” he chuckles, loving your reaction.
Biting at him, “Hnn– shuddup—”
Easily ignoring you, “Now be honest… what’s better?”
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head; you can’t focus on whatever the hell he’s saying when he’s fucking your gooey sweet spot so perfectly that you’re in bliss.
“Focus,” he fills you completely and stills his hips, refusing to move, “what’s better? This or your dream.”
Cunt so creamy and cock drunk for him, throbbing and pulsing so lovingly on him. He’s a little bit annoyed that he has to stop but he needs your answer. Hips twitching back into him, small noises of frustrated and deprived pleasure slipping from your lips.
He purrs low at you, “If you want me to move then you gotta answer me,” hand smoothing down your back, “you know I will torment you until you do.”
If you weren’t so turned on and delirious you’d recognise it as the bluff it is, he may have been able to torment you earlier, but his patience is barely hanging on by a fucking thread at this point. But you are that turned on and delirious, so instead you answer earnestly, “This, this is better. It’s lots better, now please. Move.”
“There ya go,” he pats your ass a couple times, “such a sweet little thing when you’re fucked full of my fat dick.”
Words meant as a warning but failing to hold any weight, “‘Toru– don’t—”
“—Don’t stress, pretty,” giving you a single thrust, “I’ll give you what you and your pussy are begging me for.”
Your response is smothered into the couch cushions, “Please.”
Groaning a giggle at how you reply, finding it cute that you’re displaying manners you don’t usually bother to with him. You must have it bad for him right now because otherwise you would not be so docile under him.
Fucking into you so you can feel it, really feel it. Intending to pull you apart so perfectly, wanting you to feel this just as much he is. Pelvis smacking into your ass obscenely, admiring the way your back arches for him, damn near presenting yourself to him.
“More– hah—” you stutter out at him, trying to explain what you need, “I want– hnn– I want you to touch me more.”
His eyes close and he intakes a deep breath, controlling himself as he registers your words. Arm reaching around you to pull you up, his chest to your back. He’s pressed so close to you, warm and comforting. You’re keening into him again, relishing how close he is to you, how much of him you can feel. Butterflies dancing in your stomach at how intimate it is and how it’s so much better because of it.
His hands grope at you, your hips, stomach, tits, anywhere he can grab, “Someone’s being greedy.”
Huffing back at him, “Hah– I am not.”
“I wasn’t talking about you,” amused with himself as he breathes into your ear, thrusting desperately into your dripping cunt.
You grab hold of his hands and tug, encouraging him to wrap his arms around you properly. All too easily, he gives into your will, holding you tight. His face tucked into your neck and breathing in your scent, lips delicate as they trace your skin.
Brain hazy and muddled as you babble out your feelings to him, “It’s good– I like your dick– hnn– I like– hah– I like you.” Head turning to the side to press a small kiss to his head.
He’s quick to move so he can capture your lips with his, groaning into it. His dick grows impossibly larger inside you at your small confession, throbbing and leaking inside your tight heat.
Pulling back with a last suck to your lower lip, “Don’t say such sweet things to me, pretty,” tongue licking your ear, teeth nipping you, “or I’ll never leave you alone.”
“You– hah– you– hnn– do that anyways– ah!—”
“I’m about to become much worse,” it’s more of a promise than anything else, you thought of him as clingy before but he’s about to become so so much more worse.
The idea of that alone should probably be less appealing but while stuffed full of his aching cock, you can’t find it in yourself to feel anything other than pathetically whipped for him. Pussy weeping around him, begging for more, for it to never stop.
His dick so deep it feels like he’s in your lungs, spasming around him as your high gets closer and closer. Pleasure climbing up your spine as you melt around him, loving his touch on your body, his breath by your ear.
Gojo moans, head tipping back before he leans forwards again, “You’ve got me obsessed with you, sweetheart,” voice cracking with a whine, “both you– hnn– and this sopping wet pussy of yours.”
Sobbing out your warning, “‘Toru– hah– ah!– I’m gonna cum—”
“Hmm?” his chest vibrates against your back, “Gonna cum because I told you I’m obsessed with you? That’s pretty lewd of you.”
Cheeks wet with your shed tears, “Don’t– hng– don’t tease.”
“Just let yourself enjoy it,” hand pressing into your stomach like he had earlier, “your cunt sure does.”
Long and pitchy moan leaving you, orgasm knocking into you like a tonne of bricks. Trying to curl forward but unable to, Gojo’s arms are firm around you, not letting you go anywhere as he keeps fucking into you. His pace suddenly much quicker as he doubles his efforts from behind, chasing his own high.
It doesn’t take him long at all to follow behind you, face burying into your neck, teeth biting into you as he shudders. Muffled whimpers vibrating against your skin, his hips jerking shallowly, he can’t bring himself to stop fucking into you. You’re too stupid to think about telling him off, not even sure you’re able to process thoughts let alone talk coherently.
Eventually he stills to a complete stop, planting kisses over his bite mark. He doesn’t want to let you go, content to hold you up like this but you’re on the verge of passing out. Gentle in how he lowers you down onto the couch, the pair of you groaning when his cock slips from you. Shared cum connecting his dick to your stuffed hole obscenely, he has to bite his lip to stifle the most pathetic sound at the sight.
While you gather yourself, he kneads your back, his large hands digging into the knots there. The massage nice and calming, helping to soothe your aching muscles after the way he manhandled you to his hearts content. Almost feeling like you could fall asleep like this, feeling so safe and warm under his ministrations.
He leans over to check you, “Stay awake,” fingers brushing against your cheek, “you’re gonna need a shower.”
“No moving,” you protest.
“Yes moving, I know if you fall asleep like this you will be pissed when you wake up,” he brushes down your spine delicately, “and you’ll be pissed at me… which I’d personally like to prevent.”
“Can’t do it.”
“I’ll help you,” he hops off the couch, “Come on.”
Groaning dramatically the whole time as you sit up, standing in front of him with the help of his hands on you. Legs wobbling under you, balance precarious. As soon as you’re on your feet, his cum leaks from your cunt and down your inner thighs. It catches Gojo’s attention who crouches down to get a better look.
“Wooow,” he comments.
Shy at his reaction, “Wh– what?”
He glances up at you and looks deep into your eyes, “I came a lot inside you,” eyes dropping to stare at your pussy obviously, “sorry but this is really turning me on…”
Barely finishing his sentence before his tongue is lolling out of his mouth, head tipping forward to lick up the mess. Mouth swapping sides to travel up each of your thighs, eyes locked onto yours as he does. It’s overwhelming you, feeling beyond embarrassed at the lewd display. His grip the only thing keeping your wobbly legs from completely giving out from under you.
Gojo’s actions are ravenous and simultaneously dazed, somehow both feral and on autopilot. Moaning into your pussy as he licks and sucks your cunt clean, tongue hitting so many over-sensitive places. Your hands dig into his hair to pull him back only to see the completely pussy drunk look in his eyes. If it had been possible, he’d probably have hearts in his eyes, so far gone.
“Stop– hnn– you need to stop,” legs shaking much more now, “too sensitive,” grip more forceful with your last tug.
He pouts back at you, “But you’re so cute when you’re overstimulated.”
Pulling back from you to stand to his full height, smirking down at you. All self-satisfied and also blissed out on the taste of your shared cum. Your tummy is full of butterflies from how he’s been treating you today, legs still weak under you as your knees cave. Thankfully, he’s quick and catches you, effortlessly picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to wash the both of you up.
Letting yourself be wiped down by him in the bathroom, sitting on the sink as he uses a warm cloth to clean you up better than his tongue could. “I was serious you know,” he says unprompted.
Head fuzzy and a little lost on what he means, “About?”
“I’m obsessed with you.”
α.η. THIS IS A REPOST .. a repost from my old account @/lovelivision, if you feel like you've read it before, maybe you have !
a-knee-wayssss .. i hope you liked it ! i didn't change much about this one since it was basically just pure smut and also i still fucked with it teehee (๑•̀ <๑) ✧
꒰꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel .. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。
you know what? i need gojo on all fours while he's jerked off from behind in the sluttiest pair of panties i've ever seen and i need him to be whimpering
EEEEE YIKES! i’m about to hit a milestone that’s kind of awesome (5k) and i DON’T have anything planned uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
well not entirely true …. i was thinking of posting a prompts list that’s full of all my ideas that you guys could request from … would we fw that ??? IDK IDK
germansingergirl
titsay
stormborns
snowghoul
origamiaround
2087
romaincrisis