𓂃✍︎ sleep doesn't come easily for you tonight, but gojō has his own way of fixing that.
18+ MDNI · cockwarming · masturbation · praising kink · sleepy sex · spitting
You cannot sleep. You don't know how long you've tossed and turned. Sleep appears to elude you tonight.
Somehow, in the middle of your desperate attempt, your blanket was thrown haphazardly on the cold floor. You've seen one of its corners dangling on the edge of the bed, but you're too frustrated to haul it back up with your toes.
"Must be nice being a blanket right now." You mutter indignantly.
With a grunted scoff, you turn on your side and reach out for Satoru, only to find he isn't where he said he'd be. The mattress lies cold and empty. He's been gone for a while, it seems.
Sitting up, you blink away your tiredness and look around. In the meager light from the window, you can't make out the outline of that blasted man anywhere in your bedroom. However, just before you can even say that he's one son of a bitch for making you feel like this is a one-night stand, you notice a faint orange glow that emanates under the connecting door towards the study room.
You sluggishly move your way towards it, cracking open the entry and peering through.
Gojō Satoru is seated in one of those luxurious armchairs he impulsively got a month ago (much to your utter disdain, because who's stupid enough to get an overpriced leather chair, especially in this current economy?), hair undone, and sleepwear rumpled. His composure is relaxed, one of his legs crossed atop the other, as he reads through a chapter from — you squint — The Hobbit.
"I didn't think you're capable of reading," you motion your finger playfully, "especially that. Isn't The Hobbit too advanced for you?"
Satoru snorts. "You'd be surprised."
He takes in your weary state and raises an eyebrow inquisitively. "What's wrong?"
Walking towards him, you say, "I can't sleep. And shouldn't you be sleeping as well? Don't you have, what's that called," you snap your fingers, "those exams? Chūnin Exams or something tomorrow?"
Satoru huffs a laugh, uncrossing his leg. "You mean the Goodwill Event?"
"Right. Right. That." You say with a smile. "Won't you be tired?"
"Nah," he says with a lazy drawl. "I'll be all right."
His gaze never settles in one place; if he can't settle with your eyes, he moves to your lips instead, then towards the shape of your ears, to your breasts, the roundness of your hips, and down, down, down.
"I'm not participating, and besides," he stretches, "it won't be too bad. Just a bunch of kids playing peek-a-boo with each other. Why? Are you worried about me, Sweetling?"
You roll your eyes. "Shut up."
He grins dotingly and stretches out his palm to you. "I've once googled that drinking warm milk helps. Did you try that?"
You laugh and shake your head, "I did, and you found it from my history when you were trying to convince me to watch porn with you. Didn't work, obviously. The milk, I mean."
He chuckles under his breath.
"Ugh, I don't know why I can't sleep." You flail your arms around. "And I've got so many things to do tomorrow. Can't be slacking off."
"Aw," he coos, "my poor baby girl. Would you like some help with that, hm?"
Heat pools below you, but you push that feeling down. You can't. Not tonight. Or at least, that's what you're hoping to believe because Satoru notices the shift in your gaze changing. And with his outstretched palm, he curls a finger to beckon you closer.
That dirty, thick finger of his. Curling so innocently.
"Come here, Little Thing." He calls out. The pitch of his voice lowers.
You take his hand, and the second that you do, he pulls you roughly onto his lap. His hands find no trouble easing their way around your hips, angling you so you're literally sitting right on top of his cock.
"That's it," he praises. "Exactly where you belong."
You let out a gentle moan.
"Shhh," he murmurs through your hair. "Relax with me, Baby."
He reaches towards his book and continues reading, unbothered by the slight interruption. You're surprised he enjoys this type of literature. You didn't really peg him as someone who does this. You assumed that these books are simply decorations. Then again, there were things Satoru surprised you with, and so this shouldn't have been any different.
He seems so invested in what he's doing that you fail to notice his other hand is actually scheming. It plays with the front tie lace of your nightgown, twirling it around one finger, then to the next. Sometimes he lightly taps your chest with it, accurately guessing where your nipples are.
But never did he tear his eyes away from the book.
"Where are you in the story?"
"They made it to Rivendell."
"Mhmm," he hums. He puts the lace between his teeth, and with a tug, your front opens.
And that's when his eyes finally move and look at you. You are left open for him, sitting there with your swelled breasts mere inches from his mouth, and the underwear that's meant to cover you down there does nothing of that sort. He groans, the lace still clenched between his teeth.
"You're going to kill me." He whispers. "You actually wore it."
You roll your eyes. "You begged, remember?"
No. He definitely begged. He begged you to wear this underwear because he spent hours (seconds) cutting a poorly done hole (which is meant to be a heart, by the way) right down the middle. And he wouldn't stop whining until you caved in.
"Oh, Baby," he begins to drool. Light fingers run to your hidden pearl. "All for me."
You're beginning to get enticed. Unfortunately, all he does is settle a little further into the chair and release a contented sigh. Despite the feel of his hardened length rubbing against you, Satoru does nothing.
"Go to sleep." He mocks with a turn of his head on one side and a smirk that says otherwise.
You mewl in protest, grinding yourself to his covered shaft. His eyes watch you rub. Both of you can feel how wet you are, staining his pants as you plead with him to unbuckle.
He does so, torturously slow, as if the next few sentences from the book intrigued him more. When, at last, he is bare down, he tips your hips back and slides himself inside of you.
"Fuck." You say with a relieved breath.
"Hmm," he replies, flipping the next page of his book.
He can read for all you care now. You start rolling your hips, chasing after that sensation. You can feel him throb and grow inside of you, tempting you further to keep going as it ignites a pleasurable reaction from him.
"No." He flicks your breasts instead, a darkened glint in his eyes appears when they perk to his order. With great restraint, he grits out, "That's not going to happen tonight."
You try to do it anyway, but Satoru is stronger. He could've seized you with just a finger instead of the hand that grasps your back and pushes you against his chest in an iron grip. Somehow, he manages to strip your nightgown completely off.
"I know." His hand traces absently to your spine. What a devil. "I have some reading to do. Gotta do this daily, or else my streak will end. I'm already on day 8. So all we're doing for tonight is sit here —"
"Tsk, you can do that lat —"
There's a hint of a feral grin coming out as he creeps his lips closer to the shell of your ear, "— And your tight little cunt is going to be keeping my cock warm as I do so. That is what's happening tonight only. Clear, Baby?"
You shut up. Hard at his words. Then he slaps your backside.
"Good. Now, go to sleep. I've got some streaks to do."
With that, he pulls you closer, molding you in his shape. You hear the next flip of the page. Feel his breathing hiccup at times, you think he was laughing softly. You hear rustling; maybe he was dog-earring the corners to get back to them later. Then another turn of the paper. Then another. And another. Sometimes you hear him mutter, but it's so faint, you couldn't grasp a word in.
You forget how much time you two have been sitting on that chair, he in particular, but you suddenly feel more tired. Sleep is getting to you now. You slump your head forward to his shoulder and let yourself be lulled to the quietude of the study room.
The last thing you hear is the soft sound of paper.
You don't know how long Satoru lets you sleep.
Slowly, you become aware of his kisses trailing down to the side of your face and stopping at the crook of your neck. He's throbbing erratically inside of you, but you're too groggy to piece things together.
There's a shift underneath you, and you blearily deduce that he must be moving you again. You feel yourself being repositioned, going up and down, and your legs are placed on something slightly more elevated than his hips.
"Satoru," you whine sleepily, "please. Please, stop. Let me sleep."
You can feel his grin growing more feral against your skin, "I love it when I don't do what you say. But sure, Baby. Sleep. Just gotta move you a tiny bit, okay?"
"You're moving too much. Stop, Satoru. Please."
Satoru uses the chair as leverage and begins ramming himself into you like some joust game he means to win. "Let me fuck you like this. I've been waiting for you to fall asleep. Yeah, just like that, Baby. You don't need to be awake for this."
You moan languidly. The squelch below gets louder. How can you possibly return to your slumber now?
"Oh, but you like this, don't you? Of course you do. Me fucking you while you're half asleep. I really turned you into one sick pervert, huh? You're as bad as I am now." He squeezes your cheeks until your mouth opens, then he spits. He spits again. "Letting me use your cunt anytime that I want. Fuck, you're still tight even after all the fucks we've done."
He spreads your legs wider, nearly making you do a split for him as he continues to thrust more. "Do you know your pretty little thing down there is all I ever think about? Every goddamn day. Especially in those fucking meetings with all those fucktards who think they know better."
"Y-Yeah?" You are more awake now; your words are still slurred, but you're catching up to him. "Did I help you get through those boring meetings?"
"Oh yes, yes, you did." He guides both of your hands in different tasks. One is instructed to pinch and torture your clit just the way he likes it, and the other is left resting on his shoulder.
He tips you slightly away from him to have a better view of his work.
"Maybe we should do it then." You suggest in half-jest, but the more you two talk about it, the more it seems hot to do. "I actually want to do it."
"Fuck." He growls. "That's all I can think about, Baby. Maybe I can fuck you there, spread yourself for me on that fucking table of theirs. Your cum on that wood, and then we let that dry —"
You laugh, "Let that dry? Are you insane!"
"I don't care. I want to do it. I will fuck you in every inch of that goddamn space. Where they sit, write, talk, and all the while I'll fucking laugh at their faces because they won't know — fuuuuuck! — that I did that."
"Ah!" You cry out, and an undulated burst of your orgasm crushes both of you. "S-Satoru!"
"That's it, Little Thing. For me. Come on. Good girl. My good girl. Always my good girl."
"Ah — ah," you pant, but he isn't finished yet.
Dear, he is never through with just one.
Satoru pivots his thrusts harder. He grabs hold of your head, harshly ordering you to look at him. His eyes are crazed, his grin maddening, and you can feel him. Plunging so much deeper than you have ever felt him before.
"Never stop looking at me." He demands. "Everyone knows you're mine. Just by the way you limp at times, they see you, they know I've been there. And when they ask who did this to you, what do you say, hm?"
You smile and kiss his fingers. "Satoru did."
"Yeah. And when they ask how good I am to you, what do you say?"
"I must've done something so nice to have you." He kisses you sloppily. "And your precious little cunt."
"Satoru, I — I—" you're nearing again, both of you can tell. With the shape of your mouth forming soundlessly and your head carelessly thrown back.
Satoru dips you further. From this new position, you can feel everything.
"Fuck, Baby!" You scream, rubbing your clit much faster. "Can I cum, please? Please. Please. Please!"
"Cum for me, then." He growls. "There we go."
Shortly after you come undone, he spills inside you with a choked gasp. A blooming liquid of warmth encases you. Satoru pulls you closer to him and kisses you gently.
You fuss over his movements. "Stop moving, Satoru."
"I'm tired now, Baby. Do you want to walk, or shall I carry you to bed? Did I mention that I'm tired?"
"What kind of question is that?"
He chuckles lightly and smooths your hair.
"You're so needy!" His complaints are delivered emptily. He stands with a groan and carries you off to the bed. It is only then that you realize that he hasn't taken his cock out of you.
You try to remove him, but he holds you tighter.
"Uh-uh." He warns in return. "I'm going to stay in there for the entire night, thank you very much."
You snort. "And you wanted me to walk?"
"Nah. I was just kidding. Can't you take a joke? That's kinda concerning considering we've known each other since —"
"Just shut up." You breathe out. "God. Why do you still have energy to talk? I can't believe you."
He picks the blanket you've discarded from the floor and drapes it over you two. With one deep kiss on your forehead, and one last hurrah of innuendo followed by your threat of taking his cock out, he finally whispers, "Goodnight."
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