༝༚༝༚ "i like when you're mad at me" ! ⋆˚࿔ gojo satoru
in which satoru gojo confesses his very real crush on his chronically angry best friend at a house party, accidentally ruins her peaceful reputation, and then casually admits he meant every word—because, unfortunately for her, nothing turns him on more than the way she looks when she’s glaring up at him like she wants to kill him.
pairing: (sorta)nerd! gojo x angry bsf ! reader
content warning: MDNI !! nsfw, profanity, oral sex, gojo being an edge lord
a/n: i haven't written smut in a HOT minute (like 4 or 5 years) so please bare with me i'm trying to practice for an upcoming chapter in my eren fic... also if u know me personally PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE dont read this ill literally die. thx. also also i listend to rush by troye sivan abot 61 times while writing this so maybe listen to it while reading. art by nek0zuu_ on x <3
your fist bangs rather aggressively against the wooden door of satoru gojo's dorm room, the thuds echoing down the hallway.
you were in a particularly sticky situation thanks to him being an immensely irritating idiot who wasn't answering any of your frantic calls or texts, leaving you no choice but to storm across campus to his dorm and confront him in person because this whole situation was honestly starting to get ridiculous.
you see, last night, you had become the unwilling victim to one of gojo's cruel jokes at a small house part—where he'd suddenly decided to loudly announce his interest in you.
in fact, word for word he'd slurred out in his drunken state "i think y/n is a real cutie. i have a pretty big crush on her."
what normal 19 year old admits to having a crush?
this normally wouldn't have been such an issue if it was any other guy, but because it was gojo—the campus heartthrob who most likely had his own protective fan club—it was in fact, the biggest issue to ever exist.
up until last night, you and gojo had been nothing but friends. you'd spent the past couple years in high school and now in university thinking that the bond between you was similar to the bond you had with any other guy in your life. but you very quickly realized that you had either missed some very obvious signs or he was actually just fucking with you.
"open the fucking door satoru!" you shout, banging your fist harder against the wood. there's no response. someone sticks their head out of their dorm to see what the commotion is about, but once they realize it's you, they quickly disappear back into their room.
where the hell is this guy?
without thinking, your hand wraps around the doorknob and you turn it. to your surprise, it's unlocked.
you push it open and are immediately met with a shirtless gojo staoru, muscles glistening with sweat, groaning softly.
what the fuck?
you stare wide eyed as you watch him do at least ten more pushups, black over-ear headphones sitting on his head as his muscular arms continue to pump his body up and down, before he finally realizes he's being watched.
in reality, satoru had known you'd been standing there. he'd known you'd been banging on his door. he'd known you'd been calling and texting.
he'd left his door unlocked for a reason.
with a shit eating grin that makes your blood boil, satoru pushes himself off the floor, pulling his headphones of his head to let them rest around his neck.
swallowing hard, your eyes trail down the length of him, taking in every detail. from the snow-white hair to the incredible blue of his irises, his long straight nose and rosy pink lips—his tongue darting out to lick the bottom. his adam's apple bobs as his own eyes trail down your body. the steady rise and fall of his chest, the defined ridge of his abs, all the way down to the gray sweatpants that hang low enough on his hips for you to see the prominent V-line leading down to the obvious, growing bulge in his pants.
god i really hate how fucking hot he is.
"hey, what a surprise! what are you doin' here pretty—"
"shut up." you glare at him genuine rage flowing through you right now. it's blinding—the anger and sheer hatred you feel towards this man for ruining your perfect, peaceful university life.
satoru raises a brow as he steps over to his desk, grabbing the silver framed glasses he normally wears and putting them on. "oh come on, don't tell me you're still mad about last night—"
"of course i'm still mad you idiot." you seethe, shutting the door behind you with more force than necessary to prevent anyone from over hearing—which they most likely would end up doing anyways given the paper thin walls. "i thought you were supposed to be some fuckin' genius, but i guess were both idiots cause what the actual fuck were you thinking?"
"i was thinking that you have a beautiful fucking brain and a really nice ass—"
"i'm literally going to report you for sexual harassment."
satoru holds both hands up in mock surrender, biting down on the soft flesh of his inner cheek to keep himself from smiling. would it be bad to admit that he's really turned on right now? like more turned on than he's every been?
your eyes unintentionally (okay, maybe a little intentionally) drift back down to his abs. you'd always known he was well built, constantly hitting the gym and eating well—but you hadn't realized it was this bad.
"you know my eyes are up here—"
"didn't i tell you to shut up?" you snap your gaze back up toward him, hands curling into fists at your sides. "just put on a shirt or something—"
"what? does my nakedness bother you or somethin'—"
"no. it doesn't. i just want you to put a fucking shirt on—"
without warning, satoru takes two steps towards you stopping right in front of you. you scramble backwards desperate to create as much distance between the two of you as humanly possible, but your back is met with the had surface of the door.
great.
satoru only grins at the fact that you are very obviously nervous, crossing his arms over his chest causing his biceps to bludge.
oh fuck me—
no wait. no. don't fuck me. i don't want that. not at all. not even a little—
"alright. so you gonna tell me why you banged on my door for so long and blew up my phone?"
"you know why i did all of that—wait what the fuck?" your jaw falls slack as you process what he'd just said. "you're telling me you heard me banging at your door and you knew i was blowing your phone up—did you ignore me on purpose—"
"well, duh," he sticks his tongue out, amused by the whole situation. "i just thought it would be fun to see how far you'd go."
"i'm not some fucking science experiment toru."
satoru has to physically stop himself from cumming right then and there. fuckkkk he loves when you call him toru.
"never said you were,"
"than stop treating me like i am one." you sigh deeply, rubbing your hands over your face. you're exhausted. you've never done well under stressful situations (which was terrible considering that satoru as your best friend always found ways to get you into stress inducing situations) and this latest situation he's put you in has caused you enough stress to take at least fifteen years off your life.
it was unfortunate how bad you cared about how others saw you. before rumors of what had gone down last circulated amongst the girls on campus, you'd been well known as satoru's friend who was more like a sister if anything in their eyes since he clearly had no interest in you and pretty much everyone on campus who you'd run into you never seemed to have any problems with you.
that of course, was different now. you couldn't walk in the halls or sit in class or even go to the bathroom without running into some girl who had previously had her eyes on satoru like he was some prize to claim and was very obviously jealous of you—likely internally cursing you for taking away their already slim chance to claim him.
it was all just so fucking ridiculous.
you didn't even want him—they could have him for all you cared.
all you wanted was your quiet, peaceful life back.
"i need you to tell people that it was a joke."
satoru frowns. "and why exactly would i do that?"
"because it was a joke?" you state as if its obvious and wait for satoru to laugh and admit that it had been but his frown remains intact. "wait—it was a joke right? you don't have a crush on me, do you?"
there's no way—
"would it really be so bad if i did?"
there's literally no fucking way.
your brain short circuits as you gawk at your best friend.
sure, maybe you had thought about it. what it would be like for the two of you to be more. what it would be like to hold his hand or kiss his cheek or be held by him at night. and maybe you'd even imagined what it would be like to have him bend you over and fill you up until you were a shaking mess completely fucked out—but that wasn't realistic.
you and satoru gojo were just friends. you've always been just friends. you will always be just friend.
right?
"you can't like me satoru." you finally manage, shaking your head.
"why not." he takes a step closer, hands falling to his sides.
"because it wouldn't work—we'd be horrible together. i get too angry and i'd probably always be mad at you about something and you would hate it because you hate being treated like a little kid and you'd stress me out too bad and I would die prematurely—i'm pretty sure i already found a white hair the other day and last time i checked i'm only—"
"y/n," satoru's standing directly in front of you now, so close you can feel the heat radiate off his skin in consistent waves. so close you can smell him—the expensive cologne he always wears that drives you insane. so close you can feel his warm, minty breath on your cheek.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—
"i really do like you." his voice is so soft it makes something in you melt.
your entire face heats up. "you don't mean that—"
"i mean it. i really do." his large hands come up to cup your face, forcing you to look up at him as his thumbs. "besides, i like when you get mad."
satoru leans in closer, so close his lips brush against yours. your back arches slightly off the door, pressing your front flesh against him. you can feel the now rock solid bludge in his pants press against your stomach.
shit he's even bigger than i imagined.
"it really turns me on."
you gulp. "I can see that."
your entire core is molten, an entirely unfamiliar ache pulsing through you as his lips continue to hover just millimeters above yours. there's absolutely zero doubt that your panties are completely soaked through at this point.
"are you still mad at me?" satoru murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
"yes—"
"good."
satoru crashes his lips against yours, rough and hungry as he devours you like a starved man. because in reality, satoru was starved. he'd been craving the taste of you for what felt like his entire life without having ever actually tried it.
and sure enough, you're just as sweet as he'd imagined.
a low guttural groan rips out from his throat as your hands find their way into his soft hair, pulling hard at the roots in an attempt to draw him closer if that was even possible.
his hands trail down to your neck to your waist, one resting there while the other one trails dangerously lower, finding the plush fat of your ass and giving it a squeeze.
you really do have the nicest ass.
in a dizzying messy string of motion, satoru's got you onto his bed your back against his mattress, legs dangling off the edge, his lips not having left yours the entire time as he pushes his tongue into your mouth.
there's not nearly enough air in the world for you to breath as you let out a series of moans against him, letting his tongue explores yours. you never could have imagined something as simple as french kissing could feel so insanely good.
you feel satoru's hand slip under your shirt and trail up your torso to your chest. to your surprise, he breaks the kiss for a moment, staring at you with heavy lidded eyes, hand hovering above your chest.
"you wanna stop?" he asks, breathing heavily.
you shake your head immediately, ignoring whatever better judgment and logic is telling you that this is most definitely a very, very bad idea.
"use your words," satoru mutters, glasses falling low on his nose bridge, white hair completely disheveled. "tell me what you want."
"i—" words fail you as you stare into his eyes, completely breathless.
"come on. you gotta tell me." he encourages and you feel one of his fingers graze over your nipple.
the brief contact is enough to send a shiver down your spine, you're more overstimulated than you realized. another senseless moan escapes you as you arch your back desperate for more contact.
"stop cheating—tell me what you want." satoru asks again, more firmly.
he's holding back on purpose, forcing you to voice your desires because it's something you've never been good at—trying to get on your nerves so you get angry at him again caught there's something extra attractive about you when you look like you want to kill him, and you're starting to look like you are.
"i want you to touch me." you manage, feeling your entire body heat up in embarrassment at the request.
never did you ever imagine you'd be laying on satoru's bed begging for him to touch you.
"atta' girl," he flashes that stupid boyish grin that always makes your heart race. "where do you want me to touch you?"
your patience is beginning to ware thin. he's walking on thin ice. "everywhere."
"i think you can be a little more specific—"
"don't push it." you grumble, pulling satoru's mouth to yours as you feel his cold fingers pinch your nipple causing you to gasp against him.
mouth still on yours satoru pulls your shirt up, only breaking away from you to get it off completely. his hands fumble with the clasp of your bra, causing you to giggle slightly before he finally gets it unclasped.
his lips trail down your neck leaving a trail of kisses and bites on your skin that have you breathing unusually heavy. satoru wastes no time at all, mouth clamping down on one of your breasts, his hand taking care of the other.
"toru—"
he moans against you at the sound of that nickname, his lips trailing further down until he reaches the waistband of your pants and glances up briefly to make sure you're alright before pulling those down, leaving you in nothing but your soaking panties.
with one hand gripping either leg, staoru spreads your thighs apart.
"wow, you're really wet, huh?" satoru mutters observantly, trailing a long finger down the soaked fabric. "and here i thought you actually hated me—"
"i do." you grit out wiggling your hips—squirming in desperation. god you need him to just touch you already. "i hate you so fucking much."
his blue eyes look up at you, and you watch as he lowers his head between your thighs, your legs now draped on his shoulders as he sticks out his tongue, slowly dragging it over your core—up your slit towards your clit—through the thin material of your panties.
you really do taste so fucking good. this was going to be a problem, satoru realizes very quickly. he doesn't think he'll be able to last an hour without tasting you anymore.
you squirm at the touch, needing more than this senseless teasing.
lucky you, satoru decides he's had enough fun and finally pulls your panties to the side revealing your glistening pussy that's throbbing with anticipation, and his tongue slowly flicks over your clit, hitting the sweet spot on the first try.
"Oh god—toruuu—" you whine, fingers tangle into his white hair.
you can feel him grin in satisfaction against you as he begins to suck softly on your most sensitive spot, tongue drawing slow circles over it causing your back to arch—pushing him harder against you.
the way he's eating you up is honestly surprising. you'd always thought satoru seemed to selfish to ever eat a girl out. but you'd been wrong about him liking you as a joke—so maybe you'd been wrong about that too.
his switches between using his tongue circling around your clit flicking it with perfect precision at a mind numbing speed and sucking on it—resulting in your legs wrapping around his neck putting his in a nasty headlock.
he fucking laughs at your eagerness. he was honestly surprised you'd folded so easily—he was expecting you to at least make him work for it a little harder, not that he's complaining or anything.
satoru trails his tongue down your folds before plunging past your entrance, curling just right to hit your sweet spot, one hand splayed onto your stomach to keep you still. you squirmed regardless, your moans getting louder as your eyes begin to water. you could care less if everyone person on the floor heard you screaming his name at this point.
your hips writhe resulting in his nose brushing your puffy clit as he continues to tongue fuck you with so much enthusiasm is was honestly sickening.
"i—fuck—" you inhale sharply, toes curling as you feel the muscles in your legs begin to tighten. the was your stomach is twisting and that warm feeling no man has ever managed to get you to feel is close to reaching it's pinnacle. "oh god—holy shit—i'm gonna—"
you barely have the word out when satoru suddenly pulls away, face flushed a pretty pink color, glasses fogged up. his mouth is wet—a mix of your arousal and his own spit coating his lips. you watch wide eyed as his tongue darts out to lick it.
all the built of tension in your stomach that was about to tip over into white hot pleasure instantly disappears and you feel heat prickle at your skin, familiar anger burning.
"you mother fucking asshole—"
satoru grins, standing up straight, easily towering over you. he runs a hand through his messy hair, watching carefully as you prop yourself up on your elbows, brows furrowed in frustration, hair disheveled, lips still swollen from how aggressively he'd been kissing you earlier.
the way his dick has been throbbing for the past couple of minutes has been driving him insane, and he decided he wanted to make you as angry as possible to see what you'd do if you had your pretty lips wrapped around his length.
the best way to get you angry? cut you off right before you cum.
he really was such a genius.
"come on," his eyes almost seem to darken as he looks down at you. "you really thought it would be that easy?"
the way you glare at him with so much hatred has his heart racing with excitement.
god, he really does love it when you're mad at him.
god he's such a fucking loser. i hate him.