Gojo/fem!Reader (NSFW)
Gojo fans come get your food! A gift for the beautiful and talented @we-are-so-close who deserves all the love (+ Gojo smut) this holiday season.
CW: AFAB Reader, sensory deprivation (Reader is blindfolded), orgasm delay/denial, teasing, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, oral sex (F receiving), PIV sex.
You feel a little guilty for admitting it, but you really aren’t expecting Satoru Gojo to remember your birthday at all.
You've never been the type of person to want a big deal made out of the date, especially with each passing year; you were content to stay in the sidelines, letting everyone around you remain blissfully unaware that their coworker or comrade’s birthday had come and gone. Calm and quiet was more your style when it came to celebrations, which meant that it was rare, or simply unheard of, that you even went so far as to get a cake to mark the occasion.
Of course, you’ve known Satoru Gojo long enough to know that ‘calm and quiet’ is not his style.
So when, after returning home to you upon completion of a mission, he finds you sprawled out on the sofa and flipping through a magazine, you should not be completely taken aback when he all but skips from the front door to stand in front of you - a moderately-sized wrapped box in hand, dangled right before your face. “A little bird told me that it was somebody’s birthday today!” he sings, giving a playful tug to the ribbon of the bow adorning the box. You can’t see his eyes, as per usual, but you know there’s likely a mischievous glint in them all the same. “Picked it out myself, too. I know you’ll love it!”
Gojo, remembering your birthday for its own sake? In all the time you’ve been together, you never imagined that happening. You’re admittedly a little skeptical when you gingerly take the box from his grasp, setting your magazine aside and tearing off the wrapping paper. The gift is feather-light, and you have no idea what to expect - especially when Gojo is the one giving it to you. “Thank you, Satoru…” you say, trying to hide your suspicions - even while he beams as he watches you unwrap his present. “I really -”
You’re rarely left speechless, but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. Because, as you carefully - and somewhat hesitantly - dip your hand into the box, you’re met with the sensation of fabric; it’s only when you pull out your ‘gift’ that you realize what it is: one of Gojo’s own thick, black blindfolds. You look from it, to Gojo himself, back to the blindfold again, before he can no longer contain his excitement. “Do you love it?” he asks, clearly expecting the reply to be a yes.
“I…I…” you stammer, not knowing where to begin. You’re cut off from your awkward stuttering by Gojo languidly taking a seat directly at your side and swiping the blindfold from your hands. He’s humming as he starts to slip it over your eyes before you can protest, turning your world an impossible shade of black. How the hell does he see in this thing…?
“I may be biased,” he comments, that childlike glee dripping from his words, “but I think it looks quite good on you!”
“Satoru…this is my present?” you say at last, more of genuine curiosity than true exasperation.
“Only part of it!” he replies, and suddenly his hands are on your shoulders, oh-so-carefully pushing you onto your back - until your head is resting at the end of the sofa, melting into the couch cushions. “Consider this a multi-part gift…” You can’t see him, but you feel him looming over you, until he makes contact with your skin: his lips ghosting over the curve of your neck, the edge of your jaw, and you shiver. "...and one I can enjoy, too!"
“S-Satoru…” You already feel yourself growing hot, your cheeks burning against the blindfold, your core pulsing at the tender contact. With your sight taken away, it’s like every other sense is magnified a hundred times over: the scent of the blindfold (it’s sweet and musky, like Gojo himself), the heat emanating from his body, the soft plush texture of the pillows you’re lying on. Gojo continues his onslaught of open-mouthed, sloppy kisses - tracing your jawline up to your temple, lightly nipping your earlobe before finally, finally enveloping your lips in his own. They're warm and sugary, and you can’t help but give a tiny, soft moan - which Gojo eagerly swallows up.
You let out an involuntary whine of disappointment when Gojo draws back - you feel the string of saliva which connects you breaking when he does - but it’s replaced with a gasp when Gojo’s thumbs hook seamlessly into the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them off in one smooth motion; it isn’t long until he’s slipping your top off, too, taking care not to dislodge the blindfold from your face. When he's finished, you then hear the sound of fabric rustling, until it’s replaced with the low thud of something hitting the floor. He's no doubt just as naked now as you are, and you're itching to pull yourself flush against him…
“Do you trust me?” he asks, and it’s still in that same giddy voice he normally uses - but there’s a dash of sincerity there, too. One that makes you grant him a resounding, breathless Yes, as you lay entirely bare before his eyes. He only gives a small chuckle in response; you can’t see what he’s up to next, but it isn’t long until your thighs are being tenderly pulled apart, the heat of his breathing tickling your sensitive skin. Kisses cover your tender flesh, and you can’t contain your whimpering the closer he gets to the pulsing warmth of your sex.
Just when you think he is at last going to grant you what you want - what you need - Gojo dips back down to repeat his ministrations to the other inner thigh. It could have been mere seconds, minutes, but it feels like hours pass each time he grazes his tongue and teeth to your skin. Your slick is beginning to drip down your entrance, undoubtedly staining your sofa, but it’s the furthest thing from your mind - you're just desperate for him to touch you. “Satoru, please…please, I - I…”
“Hmm?” Gojo hums, and he pulls his mouth away for just a moment - and before you can say a word, a long dexterous finger dips into your dripping entrance, stealing your protests, his thumb just brushing over your clit as he does so. You keen and moan embarrassingly loud, your breath hitching when he curls that finger, over and over, no doubt delighting in your mewls each time he does so. It’s so little, yet so much; with your sight gone, it’s all you can focus on, embarrassingly close to orgasm even from just this.
But just before you can come, Gojo pulls his finger out, resuming his all-too-tender kisses amidst your trembling groans - this time, to the flesh of your stomach, just below your navel. Your nerve endings are alight like fire, the promise of release torn from you making your body twitch and ache. Blindly, you reach out to touch him, to try and get him to touch you, but you’re met with an impermeable wall instead; goddamned Infinity, goddamned Satoru Gojo…“Enjoying your present?” he asks, knowing full well what your response will be.
You manage a gritted hiss of “Shut up,” but you’re interrupted by Gojo diving in to seal his mouth over your cunt, wasting little time lapping up your juices with wanton abandon. His clever tongue switches between curving into your entrance and circling your clit; it’s so good, so much, so fast, and you rock your hips into his face - you’d feel guilty, almost, were it not for his prior merciless, characteristic teasing. Gojo doesn’t seem the slightest bit affected by it, anyhow; his grip on your hips tightens just so, pinning you in place as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.
This - being sightless, being unable to touch him, only able to take what Gojo gives you - overwhelms your senses in the best of ways, and it’s not long before the buildup of climax is reaching you once more. When his tongue glides over your swollen clit a final time, you come undone; it’s all you can do to not bite down your tongue to muffle your moans - white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins, starting from your core and racing to the very ends of your fingertips. You can barely catch your breath, even when Gojo decides he is finished, giving one last sopping kiss to your pussy as he pulls away. “S-Satoru…” you manage, panting, and you can feel him kneeling between your legs.
“I don’t know about you, but I sure enjoyed that,” he coos, and before you can retaliate with a snarky remark of your own, Gojo is on you again - his arms coiling round your waist as he at last allows you to touch him.
You take full advantage of it - feeling your way up his lithe frame until you can wrap your arms tightly around his neck, hook your legs atop his hips - his hard cock nudging your overstimulated entrance. He’s warm, impossibly warm, and you breathe in his scent, comforting as it always is. Your mind might be clouded with lust, but you’re confident have the most unbelievably perfect man pleasuring you beyond belief - and you have every intention of savouring that fact. “I think this will be even better, though,” Gojo whispers into your ear, voice unusually husky and dripping with desire - punctuating his final word with a careful thrust of his hips.
He fills you in one practiced movement, and you gasp, mouth parted into a silent cry over how good it feels. With Gojo this tightly pressed against you, his groin rubs against your sensitive clit each time he dives back in, his breathing growing ragged before he bottoms out. He allows you to tangle your hands into his snow-white hair, and you resist the urge to tear off your blindfold and meet his brilliant irises; you’re sure the sight would push you over the edge then and there.
As it is, Gojo - muttered cursing escaping his chest - suddenly slows the pace of his ministrations, leaving you teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure. “You want the rest of your present, right?” he teases, albeit breathlessly.
“Yes,” you groan, trying fruitlessly to rock yourself onto his swollen cock. It’s in vain, you know it is, but your face flushes hotter each time you’re faced with having to tell him explicitly what you need.
Your response isn’t enough for Gojo.
“Hmm, what is it you want, exactly?” His broad hands roam your sides, thumbs brushing the peaks of your nipples, making you squirm and whimper.
“Y-you…”
“Yeah? Me?”
“Y-your cock, Satoru, I need you to…please, please, fuck me.” Your face is on fire, your nails scraping at Gojo’s shoulder blades and holding onto him for dear life as he gives a pleased hum - before drawing back and pushing himself inside your wet walls all over again. You swear you see stars, the endless stimulation having made every fiber of your being unbearably sensitive, and his dick manages to hit all the perfect places inside your twitching pussy.
With one last roll of Gojo’s hips, you come apart again, your second orgasm bordering on painful with just how intense the burning euphoria is when it races throughout your extremities. It isn't long before Gojo flutters and stills inside you with a needy growl, pressed as tightly as possible to your trembling form; your cunt instinctively clenches around him, his own release adding tingling sparks of pleasure to your already-overwhelmed body.
The passing of time escapes you as you remain in Gojo’s arms, until he plants a soft kiss to your flushed lips and ever-so-slowly slips off your blindfold. You’re at last able to meet his gaze - it's clouded with desire and post-coital exhaustion, but you’re granted a sight few likely ever see in those glistening eyes of his: his rapt adoration for you, and you alone.
“Too much…?” Gojo asks as he untangles himself from your figure, almost hesitant, his hand trailing down your skin while he slides to sit on the couch with you. In spite of his cheery voice, you can tell he’s not unaffected; his hair is tousled from your fierce grip, his skin pinkened and sweat-slicked.
“...never,” you assure him, still panting, not willing for him to leave your side just yet. He doesn’t seem in any rush to leave, either, tracing slow circles on the curve of your hip with his fingertips. “Thank you…”
“So, you liked your present, then? Told ya you’d love it.”
You manage a tired snort. “Whatever lets you sleep at night,” you retort with a half-hearted playful swipe of your hand. You won’t give him the satisfaction of being right…but you’re not about to admit flat out he was wrong, either. With a wry smirk on your lips, you add, “Just make sure to keep that blindfold nearby…it is my present, after all.”