⋆⁺₊❅. like my stockings? satoru gojo.
on dasher, on dancer, on prancer, on vixen, on comet, on cupid, on dunder, on... gojo? the one in which your husband notices you're not having a great time at your christmas party, but he knows exactly how to make you feel better.
soundtrack! a nonsense christmas (duh)
content warning. sexual maturity under text, creampie, slight exhibitionism, gojo wears antlers, afab/fem!reader, jealousy, marriage/established relationship, switch!gojo
{au/timeskip of this fic!} | inspired by this classic poem.
You would not have guessed that your crush from college would have ended up putting a ring on your finger. Back then, not a cell in your body had in you told you that he’d ever even notice you, let alone plan a future with you.
But it had happened. One night of lust and bliss had turned into forever. The two of you had not been separated since your first hookup, and it had amazed everyone around you.
Four years later, it’s still as surreal as the day you met. You glance around your large home (the one you don’t pay a dime for); the smell of pine, cinnamon, and gingerbread consuming the air. People stand from wall to wall, garland hangs from every banister, and your thirteen-foot tall Christmas tree is at the center of it all.
Your husband, Satoru, to whom you have your eyes glued, has on a pair of white antlers. He looks like a snow elk, perfect and icy and ethereal, and you can tell that everyone is noticing as much as you are.
Dozens of eyes follow him as he prances around the party, holding a silver tray of spiked eggnog, flicking his hips to the music and making sure everyone is having a good time. You, on the other hand, look like St. Nick himself, in the way you stare red-faced at him, jealous smoke encircling your head like a wreath.
You notice him perking up, sensing your stare, and in the next second he looks directly at you with care. He drops a wink until he realizes that you are not smiling back.
He captures the attention of Nanami, before passing him the drink tray, whispering something in his ear. Nanami’s back is to you, but you wish you could have seen his face; seen his response to whatever Satoru had said.
“Someone’s not feeling Holly Jolly,” Satoru pouts as he approaches you, flicking your nose.
“Mhm,” is all you reply, avoiding eye contact with him and leaning away from his touch.
“Hey, ‘m gonna give you coal, naughty girl,” he narrows his eyes and dips his head towards yours, but when you don’t crack a smile, he grows more concerned. “Are you alright?”
“Yep,” you say, absently reaching up to adjust his hair, and he instantly responds to your touch.
Realistically, you know you have nothing to worry about, but when the whole world finds your husband attractive, the fear never truly goes away. You yourself had witnessed the way he’d managed to make the entire room go silent, based on looks alone, the first time you’d met him.
“You’re not,” Satoru sighs. “Have I told you that you look ravishing in your little Mrs. Claus dress?”
You glance down at the red two-piece you wear, complete with white stockings and boots. Satoru had emphasized several times already that you look beautiful. It’s not that.
“You did,” you crack a small smile at him, “I’m fine, really, it’s stupid.”
Satoru takes a deep breath. You can see the wheels turning in his head as he picks up on what exactly is bothering you.
“Alright, who was it?” he asks. “Who stared at me for too long? We’ll go over together so I can introduce you. You know, as my wife.”
You nearly break character and laugh at him, but you hold the stark expression on your face.
“More like who wasn’t staring at you.” You hold your hands up, and Satoru’s face contorts as if he wants to be touched by them. “It’s alright, I’ll be over it soon. After all, I should be used to this by now.”
Satoru clicks his tongue. “You know,” he slithers his slender fingers down your arm, inducing chills from your nerves until he links his fingers with yours. “I’ve been over all of this socialization for the past half hour. Maybe I’m overstimulated. Need some peace and quiet.”
Your gaze travels up his arm, his torso, before locking with his eyes. “Maybe I do too,” you say, remembering that a large crowd does tend to make you tense. Right. “Where should we go?”
Satoru grins and begins to tug on your hand, leading you in the direction of the stairs. “We have so many rooms to choose from.”
You think about it for a moment. You want to be somewhere warm. Somewhere with a fireplace.
“Baby?” you say, voice unconfident and small. “The bathroom.”
“The bathroom?” Satoru nearly falters, but doesn’t stop walking or look back.
“It’s… quiet, and warm in there,” you justify, but both of you know that that has nothing to do with why you’re ducking off to the bathroom with your husband in the middle of a party.
“Is it?” Satoru coos, rounding the corner to your bedroom, before you stride across together to the bathroom. “That’s just perfect, my little Vixen.”
You swallow thickly, the rage that had been coursing your veins earlier nearly gone now. What had you even been mad about? Your brain can’t think of the answer as your hormones start to water down your common sense.
“Maybe we should wait,” you say suddenly, nearly as soon as Satoru turns the lights on. “After all, someone will come looking for us.”
“No they won’t,” Satoru releases your hand and heads over to the fireplace, “Nanami’s got us covered.”
“Does he?” you tilt your head to the side. You watch as he effortlessly crouches and sets the firewood ablaze, heat entering the room and engulfing you.
“He does,” Satoru says, voice suddenly deep and commanding. “So you should just come sit, and stop worrying the sugar-plums in your head.”
Your body obeys, as it always does. Not a moment later you’re sat right next to your husband, bottom on the plush bath mat on the floor in front of the hearth.
He’s warming up his hands as you’re watching the fire light up his face. He’s usually so egg white pale, but with the warmth from the light, he’s glowing an orange tone, and it’s beautiful.
Then he laughs, and shatters your moment of hushed admiration.
“That’s what all this was really about, huh?” he questions, turning to you finally, moving his now warm hands from the fire and slithering them under your thighs – on the bare skin between the hem of your skirt and the top of your stockings. “You’re grumpy from cock withdrawals.”
“Wh-what?” you blink rapidly up at him, furrowing your brows. “No, you know that I have a jealous streak.”
“Right, but,” Gojo perseveres forward, the tips of his fingers delving deeper into your skin, “you were staring at me, all in heat.”
“Was not,” you argue, clenching your thighs, trying to shrink away from him, but you know that it’s useless. He’s got his claws on you, and he won’t let you get away that easily. “I was just making sure you didn’t burn yourself.”
“C’mon now, Vixen,” Gojo cocks his head, antlers jingling, still perched atop his snowy locks. “I would recognize that look anywhere. After all, it’s exactly how you used to stare at me during my horse races. Back when we still hooked up in the locker rooms. Isn’t it?”
“You’re wrong,” you argue, but your voice is meek, because even you don’t believe that.
Satoru nearly has his face attached to yours, his torso leaning over you. You hardly noticed, with his enchanting stare, that he’s pulled your legs over his, and he now rests between them. You can smell the peppermint and cocoa on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his palms.
His frosty eyes are half-lidded. He’s purposely sliding his tongue over his bottom lip, showing you what you’re missing out on, and it drives you mad.
“There it is,” Gojo taunts, voice ripe with desire. “It doesn’t take much, does it?”
You furrow your eyebrows and once again attempt to pull away with a scoff. Satoru uses your movement to rip you into his lap once and for all, forcing you to straddle him.
You gasp as your knees hit the material of the mat on either side of his hips, cunt resting on the material of his silk pants. Your hands mindlessly grip onto his biceps, steadying yourself.
He looks up at you through his ivory lashes, reading your face as he decides his next move.
“You’re delusional,” you squeak.
Gojo laughs at this, his whole torso shaking against yours. Instead of answering, he grips the tip of your chin gently with his long fingers.
In a blur, he’s got you melting into his mouth as he dips his lips against yours, kissing you as deeply as his mouth will let him.
Your lips slide together, his warm and wet with saliva. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, officially locking you in, now there’s no escape. His hands are moving to dangerous places: the crease of your thighs, the small of your back, prancing up your spine like the gallop of a reindeer.
The fire in the hearth is slowly growing; the warmth dancing across your backside in time with Satoru’s hands. The small silver bells on his antlers jingle as he slowly rotates his head to accommodate the movements of your jaws.
Now, the tips of his fingers are sliding down the outer edge of your thigh, daring to dip underneath the material of your stocking and pull it down.
You gasp, and bring your hands to his pecs, fingers pressing into the thick flesh there. This earns a groan from his throat, reverberating onto your tongue, and his fingers curl until you feel his nails breaking open your skin.
Seems you’re not the only one who’s easily turned on, huh?
You break away from the kiss, trying to hide the fact that it feels like Satoru has sucked the breath from your lungs. You glare down at him, his lips already pink and puffy, his blue eyes low and dazed.
“You done yet?” he questions, entangling his fists in your socks. You respond by bucking against him, feeling his hard cock poking you the minute you do so.
“Done what?” you grit, sliding your hands down his torso, finding the hem of his holiday sweater.
“Securing your spot on the naughty list,” he smirks.
You stare at each other for several moments. Then, a clatter of clothes more grand than hooves on the roof and several eye blinks later – you sit bare chest to chest, save for your white cotton bra.
“About how badly you wanted me to drag you up here all evening,” Gojo breathes, his fingers on your body mimicking the flow of his words; slow and syrupy. “About what really had you upset downstairs.”
“I told you,” you huff for the last time, nails burrowing into the skin of his shoulder blades as threateningly as possible. “I was jealous. Everyone was drinking up my husband–”
Your back hits the floor in a smooth transition.
“And you wanted them to know you drink me up in ways their pathetic brains could never comprehend.”
His voice travels along the pulse in your neck. It’s almost painful how sultry and warm it is. The tips of his hair tickle your cheek as he cocks his head to dip his mouth perfectly against your collarbone.
“No,” you say again, still fighting him.
His palms ride up the goosebumps on your ribcage, finding the stretchy band of your bra, threatening to pop it. You don’t care. You know for sure he doesn’t.
“Should I put coal in your stockings?” he whispers. “Or something else just as rock solid?”
You push at his chest, but he barely falters. He’s propped himself up with his free arm, his hand still expertly working that bra off of you. The hooks disconnect, the straps sliding down your shoulders.
His antlers jingle again as he tilts his head to the side, innocently awaiting your argument. But you don’t have one, and he knows it.
“Guess I have been pretty bad this year,” you hum, back threatening to arch from the mat.
You wrap your arms around his neck, and nothing else has to be said before he’s pulling you back into a sitting position.
“Well?” Gojo watches as your bra falls in your lap, and you take it and throw it to the side - nearly right into the fire. “What should be done about that?”
“Maybe we should talk about you first,” you argue, wasting no time crawling back on top of him, watching as he cranes his neck to look up at you with a wishful glint in his eye. “What kind of reindeer abandons his duties in the month of December?”
This earns you a chuckle, just before his face drops and his palm comes into contact with the base of your throat. A final gasp erupts from you before he presses his fingers into the skin, cutting off your breath.
“I’m serving punishment to girls on the naughty list, aren’t I?” Gojo murmurs. “Surely, Santa will understand.”
“Not when the punishment is being served by someone else on the naughty list,” you purr. “I mean, is it really a punishment if we both feel so good doing it?”
“Hm,” Gojo shrugs one shoulder lazily, “let’s see how good your punishment feels first.”
One, two, three cracks and the last things separating your skin are gone. You sit, bare cunt dripping onto his length, stockings nearly ripped from the tugging and twisting they’ve endured so far. Gojo opts to keep his antlers on, and you can’t help but find that it makes the situation that much more exhilarating.
You dip your head, and he parts his lips in expectancy, but at the last minute you connect your mouth to his jaw. You hear it snap shut as he closes his mouth, but not before letting out a slutty sigh. Your hands are everywhere: his shoulders, his chest, his neck, the back of his head. Everywhere but where he wants them to be.
He’s letting you take your time, grinding his hips up into yours, releasing your throat and leaning back on his palms, chest heaving as you drag your wet lips along his jaw, ear, and neck.
He’s so silent, you have to glance up at him to make sure he’s alright. His eyelids are low, but he seems to be enjoying himself. His cock jerks against your clit and makes you spasm. He won’t warn you again.
You breathe out against his neck and then your hand slithers between your thighs. It grabs ahold of his needy cock, but before you can keep going, he cuts you off.
“Still worried about what our guests think?” he questions, hand sliding up to cup your face, watching your expression as you sit up on your knees.
“No,” you answer, sitting up straight and finally bringing the tip of him in alignment with your ready, needy hole.
“Good,” he coos, “giddy up, then.”
You nearly cackle, but there’s no time. His cockhead is pushing through your wet ring, filling you immediately with the girth of it alone. His eyebrows momentarily furrow, but you can tell he’s trying to maintain his poker face.
After you’re sure he’s in, snug as a bug, your hands come back up to his shoulders, and you lean into his face – desperate to get some kind of noise, praise out of him.
“A-Am I redeeming myself yet?” you stutter, rotating your hips as you glide all the way down on his cock, bottoming him out.
This gets some kind of reaction out of him. He jerks a bit, his stomach rising and falling as he pants from being so deep inside of you.
“Think I need a bit more convincing,” he purrs, and his hand finds itself creeping back up your thigh, tucking his thumb right in the crease.
The rest of his fingers work on holding onto your hip like it’s a reign.
You begin to feel a sweat forming on the small of your back, but you suspect it’s partially from the heat of the fireplace. You lean your chest intentionally against Gojo’s and feel that he’s equally as warm. The action, albeit small, drawls a reaction from him – his spine arching, his lips quavering.
You use your hands on his shoulders and the flex of your knees to push your cunt back up the length of his cock, just barely hitting the edge of his tip before you’re sliding back down again. Juicy squelches make an appearance in no time; your pussy managing to be embarrassingly wet for your husband as always.
“G-G…” Satoru begins, his eyes squeezing shut just moments after being unable to finish his thought.
“Hmm?” you question, finding your rhythm now, abusing your hips as you pound them down against his thighs.
“G-God,” Satoru says humorously, peeking open one eye just to see your reaction, which is nothing short of irritated.
“Hngh, stop playing, ‘Toru.”
You need to hear it – you’re working for it. Just two words.
“S-Stop riding me like that,” he groans, his grip growing tighter on your hip. His own hips would normally be drilling up into yours, but this time, he sits stationary – letting his torso do the moving.
He’s twitching, clearly trying his hardest not to crack, trying to act like he isn’t completely pussydrunk.
“Like huh?” you question innocently. “Am I not doing what you asked?”
“Mmh,” Gojo shuts his eye again, lips parting as he slowly begins to give up. He grunts before muttering out, “Your punishment feels r-really damn good.”
“Doesn’t it?” you reply. “Don’t you think I’m being good?”
“So good, little Vixen,” he grunts, guttural and raw. “My good girl.”
You nearly giggle, but you’re too caught up in how deep and harsh you’re letting his cockhead dip into your cervix. How your cunt is sucking him up, drenching his groin in your juices.
Plap, plap, plap. Each time you slam your ass onto him, you nearly stick. Everything is wet and nasty and warm. Satoru’s given up entirely, and he begins to crumble beneath you.
He adjusts himself from putting his weight into his wrists, and now, he’s got his arms wrapped securely around your body. His face rests perfectly between your breasts, which he’s licking and kissing each time you slam down again.
The room, loud with moans and the crackle of fire, is thick with lust and a bubble of tension. His antler bells ring like a soft afterthought, perfectly in tune with the thump, thump, thump of your hips.
It’s not going to be much longer before you undo him or come undone yourself.
“Such a good… fucking… girl.”
The words barely make it out of Satoru’s raspy throat. His nails are breaking open your skin. Your hands can barely hold on to his sweaty shoulders.
The stockings have rolled down to your ankles. You don’t want to think about the state of your hair or your holiday makeup.
“Please, ‘Toru,” you beg, “one more time.”
He knows why you’re asking. It’s all you need, to hear it one more time, to cum all over him. To nearly suck his cock right up into your stomach with the clenching of your walls. And he knows he wants it just as bad as you do.
“You got me,” he grunts. “Ngh– riding me like this. Like a good girl.” He lets out a deep groan. “Show me how bad you want off the naughty list, Vixen.”
“‘M sorry ‘Toru,” you cry, “just wanted you to fuck my jealousy out.”
“I know,” he grins, “just cum for me and it’ll all be better, yeah?”
“Ngh, all better,” you sigh, feeling the high creep up on the tip of your toes and travelling through your nerves before it bursts from your clit.
You hold onto Satoru’s arms, and he holds onto you tighter as if you’d fall into pieces if he let go. You shake in the cradle of his grip, letting your orgasm take over, your head lolling and eyes rolling.
Gojo’s not far behind you, his spurts of cum as hot as the fire next to you filling you up. You recall how you’d let him fill you up from the first time you’d had sex and every time since, never quite getting enough of it.
He’s panting against your chest, which feels like it’s about to crack open from the pounding of your heart.
You’re catching your breath as you feel him softening inside of you, slowly beginning to slip out. He pulls his face away from your chest and his white hair is stuck to his forehead boyishly, his eyelids fluttering as he comes down from his high.
“Feel s’much better,” he says, “m-maybe I can work something out with Santa, y’know, about getting you off that list.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you grit, rolling your eyes as you slide off of him, leaning back against the mat again, his cum dripping out of your hole as he watches, pupils blown.
“Again? Think we’ll have time?” he glances up at the clock. “I mean, surely, the guests notice we are missing.”
“Hm,” you tap your chin, “I’ll just tell them I heard on the roof, the prancing and pawing of each little hoof, and that I had to go investigate.”
“Only to discover your husband, cumming down the chimney,” Satoru snickers, making his way onto his knees and crawling over you – slick as a panther.
“Making me scream, for everyone to hear,” you gasp, feeling the heat of his chest radiate against yours.
“Merry Christmas to all,” Satoru murmurs against you, his cock jerking up again at the sight. “And to all a good night.”
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆
this is kinda, dare i say, short n’ sweet…
but i hope you all enjoyed <333 i liked connecting it back to my cowboy gojo fic from halloween.
anyway, i hope december is treating you all better than it’s treating me.. what with $1000 car repairs and all <3 i love it hereeee
i hope yall enjoyed my ‘twas the night before christmas’ references too i think i cooked a bit idk tho what yall think…
