virgin!gojo who always feels embarrassed when his friends make fun of his retained virginity so he asks you to let him hit so he can lose it already. but this is the one thing he’s not a pro at.
…what? don’t look at him like that. it’s a perfectly normal favor to ask of a close friend! he just wants to get it over with!
tries coming off as a confident know-it-all when you know his hand and his porn were the closest things to call “knowledge”. ends up blowing his cover when your tongue’s down his throat and you’re rubbing him through his pants; he cums before he can stop himself.
but he still has enough stamina to redeem himself, and he can make up for it by showing off his expertise at sex!
but he’s got this… weird pace going. and he has to take a quick break every few thrusts. you’re about to ask him what’s wrong but you catch that cloudy film over his eyes while they flutter. mouth agape with his lil tongue out like a puppy :( poor toru didn’t expect pussy to feel this good.
he’s got no choice but to let you take the lead—he can barely move it’s too much. unfortunately for him, you’ve actually done this and he’s now worse off than before. stifling his moans with the most humiliated look on his face, eyelids twitching and eyes fighting to not roll until he cums quicker than before. it’s all for naught. you make him cum anyways by squeezing it out of him. he keens so beautifully and quivers as he thrusts up into you, pawing at your thighs as you sit atop him.
"mmfh—! n-no— oh fffFUCK ‘m cumminggg—"
it’s too good to not give in—you can’t blame him! and you’re just talkin him through it with this sickeningly sweet voice, petting his head whenever he cums again… his face feels like it’s gonna burn off. all he can do is take it with whiny mewls til he’s shaky and fucked out.
soooo now when his friends are questioning how he lost his virginity, how it went—he gets really awkward. his ego was crushed. the satoru gojo got too pussy drunk to dominate, so you had to dominate him instead.
sub!omega!nerdjo trying to suppress his slick from reaching your nose but you sense it anyway with how heightened your smell radar is.
he's absolutely distraught and in denial with how much pheromones he's producing right now- it's borderline humiliating really but he won't ask an alpha to help no way!
his teeth digs into the fabric of his uniform shirt when he fists his cock through the small hole he created with his fingers, pumping out loads and loads of pre-made slick, it covers his stomach and the sheets in copious amounts.
"f-fuuck" he's sniffing your old t-shirt that he nabbed from the laundry basket- it reeks of your scent; pungent and intoxicating.
but before he could reach the anticipated climax of his orgasm, the door to his room opens and closes in a blink of an eye.
"get out-" what were you doing here!? his eyes met yours in a heated frenzy, glancing at your hands.. which seemed to be trembling from the sheer scent of his odor.
"..satoru, i could smell your pheromones all the way from the damn library." he swallows the lump in his throat when you settled on the bed and spread his legs wide open to look at his pulsing pink hole.
you shudder when his scent wafts and fills the whole room in a dizzying humidity, steadying a hand on his knee, "wanna help you toru, please." you plant a kiss on the tip of his cock, his chest rises when he looks at you with glazed eyes.
"yes.. p-please.." he makes a high pitched noise when you lean down to replace his hands with yours, pumping his cute cock until he has the chance to build up the lost orgasm once again.
you tease your thumb over his slit, eagerly observing his overly flushed face and open mouth, tongue lolling out as incoherent sounds leave the back of his throat.
"yeah, yeah.. just like that.. oh f-fuck.." he hips are twitching immensely while following the movement of your hands. his eyes are screwed shut when suddenly , ropes of his cum splatter all over your shirt and his chest.
he continues to rut into your hand, hips stuttering a little due to overstimulation.
"m-more.. a-ah.. moree.." he whines incoherent, hand reaching out to grab you.
you remove your hand from his twitchy dick which seemed to flush a lovely red just like the rest of his body.
the nerd grips your arm in a tight hold, whispering about how much more he could take, "hey. speak clearly i can't hear you." you slapped his thigh lightly but that only just made him squirt more
"is that my shirt? you little thief." you blow soft air over his slick covered virgin hole and he shudders a drawn-out moan.
"fine, but you're doing my AP math paper that's due next week in exchange 'kay?"
he’s squirming on your lap before you even tell him to stay still, hips twitching, cock hard and leaking against your thigh. his blindfold hides those mischievous eyes, but you can feel the fire of him trying to fight it—the part of him that doesn’t want to admit how much he needs you.
“gojo,” you murmur, dragging a finger down his chest, over his nipples, making him shiver, “stay still. you’re not allowed to move unless i say so.”
“wha—y-you’re cruel,” he whines, voice high and breathless. his hands push against your sides, trying to shift, squirm, anything to get friction that doesn’t belong to you.
you just smile, soft and patient, and hold him down with a knee against his hip. “i’m not cruel, baby. i’m being careful. you’re going to like it if you just let me take care of you.”
he groans, half-protesting, half-moan, thighs trembling. his cock leaks more onto your lap, sticky and warm, and every twitch makes your fingers itch to trace his slick, to tease him even more.
“stop squirming,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss the side of his neck, teeth grazing lightly. “you’re so needy already. look at you, whining like a little baby and dripping for me.”
“i-it’s not fair!” he gasps, back arching instinctively. “fuck, it’s too much, you’re… you’re—”
“too much for who?” you coo, hand gliding over the hard length of him through his shorts. “for me? or for you?”
his voice cracks, whining, “f-fuck, y-you—i’m gonna—”
“no, baby,” you murmur, cupping his jaw, tilting his head so your lips brush over his, “not yet. not until i say. stay full for me.”
he groans, face flushing, and his hands finally settle—helpless—on your thighs. every twitch, every little jerk of his hips presses him harder into your lap. you can feel him trying to come, trying to fight, but your hand at his chest, stroking slow circles over his nipples, keeps him right on the edge, whining like he’s being undone.
“look at you,” you murmur, voice soft, almost like a lullaby. “cock leaking, trembling… so pathetic for me already. you like being controlled, don’t you?”
“n-no, i-i—” he whines, words breaking into moans, “y-yes—fuck, y-you’re gonna—”
“shh,” you hush him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. your other hand drags lightly down his stomach, brushing over his hard length, feeling him twitch under your touch. “stay warm for me, stay full, stay mine.”
he’s shivering now, hips jerking despite himself, whining and gasping, face hot and red, and every time you slide your fingers over him, flicking the tip just slightly, his entire body convulses.
“gojo…” you murmur against his ear, “you sound so pretty when you’re whining. don’t fight it. let me hear it all.”
he tries, his mouth opening, but it’s all breathless little noises—half-protests, half-moan, little squeaks you know he thinks he’s hiding. “f-fuck, baby, it’s—too much… i can’t—”
“yes, you can,” you whisper, stroking him through it. “you can take it, my baby. i’m right here. stay full, stay trembling, and don’t even think about coming without permission.”
he groans, whines, arches his back off your lap, and you tighten your grip on his hips, pressing him flush against you. every tug and tease sends another shiver through him, and his breath comes in short, broken pants.
“i-it hurts!” he whines, body stiff, voice cracking. “it feels—too good—i can’t—”
“i know,” you murmur, dragging your nails lightly down his side. “that’s why you’re whining. that’s why you’re mine. look at you—cock hard, leaking, shaking like a little baby.”
he’s going dumb now, face buried in your chest, every moan muffled, trembling all over. his hips jerk reflexively, but your hand keeps him exactly where you want, teasing the head, running slick down his shaft, keeping him on the brink.
“so good for me, baby,” you coo, kissing the crown of his head, brushing a hand through his hair. “you’re such a perfect little whiner. all heat and trembling, leaking for me, cock stuffed and helpless…”
he whimpers loudly now, finally letting go of all pretense, the stoic, cocky gojo completely gone. his body shakes, drooling, leaking, and every breath is little bursts of desperation and need.
“please—please—i can’t hold—” he gasps, but you shush him softly, humming against his skin. “not yet, baby. stay full. you’re mine, and i say when you come.”
his hands curl into your thighs, nails digging in, hips bucking instinctively, but he’s dumb now—shaky, helpless, completely undone under your gentle, relentless control.
his arms are wrapped around you so tight, it’s like he thinks you’re going to slip away if he lets go for even a second. satoru’s long body curls around yours, legs tangling, nose buried against the side of your throat where he won’t shut up—little sighs, whines, half-muffled please’s that make your skin warm. you’ve got him seated on your cock, snug and stretched, every inch of him filled up, and he’s losing his mind just staying still.
“don’t make me,” he groans, rocking his hips the tiniest bit, like maybe if he’s subtle enough you won’t notice. “baby, i can’t—feels so good, please, lemme move.”
you stroke his back slow, soothing, and he melts under your touch even as he kicks his feet a little in frustration. “hush. you can take it. that’s all i want right now, satoru. just you, sitting pretty and warm for me.”
he shivers, biting down on a sound that still slips out anyway. his fingers fist in your shirt, knuckles white, nails digging just enough to remind you he’s trembling on the edge. he’s not used to being denied—he’s used to moving how he wants, overwhelming you with his stamina and energy. being kept still like this makes him twitchy, makes his chest rise and fall fast, makes his cock leak against his stomach in hot, messy drops.
“you’re cruel,” he mumbles against your throat, though there’s no venom in it. it’s all breathy and ruined, like he’s half-sobbing. “you know i can’t behave, ‘m too needy. please, baby, i’ll be so good if you just let me—”
but you just hush him again, cupping his jaw and tilting his head back so you can see his face. he’s flushed, lashes damp, his mouth pouting open. he looks like a mess already, like he’s been edged for hours instead of minutes. you can feel him clenching around you, little spasms every time you whisper praise into his ear.
“look at you. so full. keeping me nice and warm. my perfect boy.”
the words make him shake harder, a broken little whine tearing out of his throat. his hips buck instinctively, but you pin him down with just a hand on his waist, firm and steady. he’s not going anywhere.
“stop—fuck, i can’t,” he gasps, head dropping onto your shoulder. “you’re gonna kill me, i can’t just sit here. i need it, i need you to—”
you kiss his temple, soft and patient, letting him squirm without giving him what he wants. “you need what i give you. and right now, i want you to wait.”
his whole body tenses at that, thighs trembling where they’re spread over yours. you can feel his cock leaking constantly, messy against both of you, and he chokes on a sob when he realizes you’re serious. he’s not cumming until you say so.
“please,” he whimpers, voice cracking, and your heart twists at how wrecked he sounds. “please, don’t make me wait. ‘m your good boy, i swear. let me move, let me cum—just once, baby, please.”
but you just stroke his hair, keep him pinned down, and feel every desperate shiver run through him as he clings tighter, burying his face in your neck like if he hides there maybe you’ll give in.
he’s needy, touch-starved, trembling everywhere. and he’s not going anywhere until you decide he’s earned it.
you’ve been seated on his cock for so long that you can feel the way it twitches with every beat of his pulse, swollen and aching inside you, begging for friction. and gojo—cocky, smug, untouchable gojo—is reduced to this: a trembling mess who can’t stop pawing at you, mouthing at your collarbone like a man desperate for water.
“please,” he breathes, his voice cracking, “please just a little, baby, i’ll be so good, promise.”
your hand strokes slowly through his hair, smoothing down messy strands as if you’re calming a child. “mm, you said that last time. and what happened?”
his whole body jerks, because he remembers—he begged and cried and still came without permission, ruining himself all over your thighs. he groans into your neck, muffling the sound, but his hips still twitch helplessly under you.
you clench around him deliberately, and his grip on you tightens like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “fuck, fuck, don’t do that,” he gasps, eyes squeezing shut.
“don’t do what?” you ask, voice soft, teasing, almost cruel in its gentleness.
he shakes his head, panting, unable to answer, because everything is too much. the warmth of you around him, the way you don’t move, the way your body holds him still. he’s unraveling thread by thread, and all you’ve done is sit pretty and let him suffer in your arms.
his hands slide down your back, clutching at your hips, and you catch them before he can lift you. “no moving,” you murmur, pressing them flat against your stomach so he can feel where he sits inside you. “you stay right here, okay? nice and full. i like you like this.”
gojo shudders, moans, his breath hot against your skin. “i can’t,” he whines, the pitch of his voice higher than usual, fragile. “it’s too much.”
you tilt his chin up so you can look at him, at the tear-bright shimmer in his eyes, the flushed desperation painting his face. “you can. you will. my pretty boy can take it.”
the praise makes his lips part on a broken sound, his hips bucking once before you squeeze his face gently to still him. he nods frantically, messy strands of hair falling into his eyes, his whole body trembling against yours as if agreeing is the only thing keeping him together.
“that’s it,” you whisper, rocking your body just enough to make him sob, “just let me hold you like this. let me make you feel good by not letting you have it yet. you need to learn patience, baby.”
gojo clings tighter, burying his face against your throat, his body so hot it feels feverish. every little whimper is muffled into your skin, every plea cut off by his own need to hide his face.
and all the while, his cock throbs inside you, leaking, twitching, caught in that endless torment of being right there—so close, so warm, so unbearably good—without relief. he’s drowning in it, in you, in the way you keep him.
he doesn’t realize he’s drooling until you tilt his head back again, thumb swiping along the corner of his lips. “look at you,” you hum, eyes tender even as your tone carries that lilt of command, “my strongest sorcerer, falling apart just from being kept warm. i should keep you like this all night.”
the thought alone makes him whimper brokenly, and when you kiss the corner of his mouth, he melts completely, a needy, touch-starved mess.
xxxxx
his whines break into something sharper, hips twitching up when they’re not supposed to. your eyes snap open and you catch the flush running high across his cheeks, sweat beading his temple, his whole body trembling like he’s holding on by a thread. and then—oh no—he gasps, that high-pitched, needy sound, and you feel it, hot and sticky spreading inside you before he even realizes what he’s done.
“satoru.” your voice is low, warning.
he freezes instantly, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. wide blue eyes blink at you, pupils blown, lips parted as his chest rises and falls like he’s just run a marathon. he’s still sheathed so deep inside, twitching, pulsing, giving him away even though he desperately shakes his head.
“i—I didn’t mean to—” he stammers, words tumbling out fast, a panicked whine threading through every syllable. “it just—fuck, it felt s’good, you were so warm, i couldn’t—couldn’t hold it—”
your fingers curl tighter in his messy hair, tugging his head back so he has to look up at you. his breath hitches, throat bobbing as he swallows hard.
“you broke the rule,” you murmur, slow and deliberate, and the way his lashes flutter at the tone makes your lips twitch despite yourself.
“n-no, i didn’t—well, i…” he’s already falling apart, excuses collapsing before they can even form. “i tried! i really tried! ‘m sorry, baby, please don’t—don’t be mad—”
his hands clutch at you, restless, one gripping your waist like you’ll disappear if he lets go, the other dragging up to press against your chest as though he can anchor himself there. he’s still moving, not his hips, but little shifts, little clenching spasms that make you oh-so-aware of just how badly he lost control.
you tilt his chin up, and his lower lip trembles. he looks ruined, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, pupils blown out, desperate to please but already so far gone he’s choking on his own apology.
“what am i going to do with you, hm?”
his breath catches again, tears shining at the corners of his eyes. “anything. you can—anything you want, just—don’t stop touching me, please—”
needy little baby. and he knows it.
⟡ made by @flxttershyz , please do not copy or repost without consent!!⟡
I was just reading this fanfic of nerd gojo where reader is a new detective? Recruit? And there trying to find mahito. It was an au. Reader goes “when did u get hot?” to him, that might have been the prompt. Pleaaasssseeee help me find it, I’m losing my mind I really wanna finish reading it!!!
cw. sub!gojo, dom!gn!reader, slapping (m receiving), sloppy angry makeouts, toxic enemies with benefits thing, angry/hate sex
gojo who loves to piss you off — to see the way your eyebrow twitches in annoyance, the way you inhale slowly when he says something that you don't like, the way your lips curl up into an angry pout to stop yourself from yelling at him.
gojo who wants to see you angry, so he tries and tries to aggravate you at any point he can. he knows you hate him, he hates you back all the same, but he doesn't know that you think about kissing his stupid face whenever he's getting in your space. he doesn't know that when you're trying not to get angry, you're actually trying to not fuck his silly brains out too.
gojo who loves it when you finally snap. "you're pissing me off," you told him. he doesn't care. gojo only encourages it. a wide smirk and a quirk of his eyebrow, he tells you to use your anger. he tells you to hit him.
gojo who feels nothing but heat when you swing your hand and slap him around the face. palm to cheek, his head swivels and his eyes widen. he freezes, struggling to comprehend what he's feeling right now. heat, lust, arousal — all from your hand.
gojo who lets you pull him in for a rough, sloppy kiss not even seconds after slapping him. his cheek stings, but so do his lips when yours crash onto his. your fingers tight around his jaw, your hot tongue sliding into his mouth and fighting with his. he can do nothing but feel as your hand finds his hair, tugging at it and making him groan into your mouth.
gojo who had the best hate sex of his life that night. you broke him down, piece by piece, only to build him back up into something that he never thought he could be. your toy. sure, he was left with bruises and scratches but he looks at them fondly days after your angry one night stand.
gojo who feels that same heat whenever he makes a snarky comment in your direction, and your face tells him that you're angry, but your eyes tell him you feel that heat too.
the only one who could truly dominate him. he’d been waiting for something special like this for a long time. and oh, when you found him, you put him on his knees.
and that’s exactly how you liked him.
satoru gojo was the first man to truly match your freak, but this… this was something new to him. satoru gojo wasn’t used to someone else being top dog. but for you he didn’t hesitate to get down on his knees and find out.
you tapped the pink tip of your strap against his glossy lips, slick with the both of your saliva, his fervent eyes peering up at you through his white lashes like he was knelt there before an angel of god. you clutched his throat as you eased the toy with your hips ever so slightly further into his mouth, allowing him the first couple inches of its intimidating length.
satoru kept his eyes on yours as his lips wrapped around it. he sought praise for his work. being a good boy for you was a requisite. he wanted nothing more than to please you. he sucked at your tip softly as he coated it with his saliva. he hollowed out his cheeks and began bobbing, taking you further and further down his throat like you did him so often. he had taken great notes. you had to hold back a unchaste moan that threatened to escape from the depths of your throat.
you nodded in approval as his saliva ran down his chin, dripping into his lap where his reddened cock stood taut.
"what a mess you make yourself for me, baby boy."
he wanted nothing more than to dive those long fingers of his into your pretty cunt. he could hold them there and you’d fuck yourself on them as you rutted your strap into his mouth. and he tried, hands trailing up your bare legs with undeniable desire, but as soon as his hands got within touching distance of your pussy you were quick to use an imitation of his limitless technique. he audibly whined at your physical protest of his touch. he should’ve known. they didn’t call you the copy sorcerer for nothing.
his cock had its own throbbing pulse, standing rigid in his lap leaking an absurd amount of precum at its tip. you had him so close already he could easily cum right then and there, regardless if you touched him or not. poor thing. so riled up at your feet like a dog, so eager for his owner to give him another command. fuck, you could cum just at the sight of him. there was nothing this man couldn’t do well.
you took his jaw in your hand, his eyes still trained on yours as you completed the motion. you grind your hips forward ever so slowly, making him take more and more of the strap until he gagged around it. you shift back a bit where it sat comfortably down his throat.
you tut gently, rolling your eyes. “you’re too fucking good at this, asshole. can you suck at at least one thing?”
you don’t give him a chance to respond, using his jaw to gently work him back and forth on your toy. he moans around it, cock twitching in absolute misery.
you had to end the teasing and give your poor boy some relief.
you had to be sweet with him for his first time. you took him from beneath, with you laid out against the headboard of the bed with him leaning back splayed out against your chest.
the first inch was the hardest, even with the considerable amount of lube you used, but with an arm wrapped around to his front you had his tip clutched in your tight wet fist before the first gasp could even leave his lips, coaxing pleasure to override the pain. you let him get comfortable there, stretching him out so nicely, then added another inch. then another. then another. and another. until all seven inches of your strap disappeared inside him, your right hand squeezing his cock hard at its base as your left clutched across his torso for dear life. your boy had finally eased the tension racking his body, relaxing into your hold.
"mhhhhhmm, that's it. how do you feel, pretty boy?"
gojo sharply released the breath he had been holding, the tension within him subduing as much as he could help it. he was hot with sweat, a sticky panting mess as he choked out an answer for you, "s'tight, baby. ah— fuck, baby! please," he bucked his hips so his dick earned friction in your grasp, "need you."
you were at his ear, lips brushing against his temple, "are you ready to cum?"
he feverishly nodded as his eyes squeezed shut, his left hand finding yours in the midst of his anticipation and clutching it against him. you were fully inside him now; every inch you got out of him you had duly earned. you pumped his whimpering cock with long languid strokes simultaneous with your slow and slight ruts. you left your strap in as deep as you could go, only allowing about an inch to leave before rutting it right back in. over and over and over again until gojo was straining against you seeing fucking stars.
his stomach tightened under your hand and you knew he was right there on the edge. you angled your hips forward a bit to snap them right back into his ass again, trying to find that pleasure point of his. his scream told you everything you needed to know.
"you're so fucking good for me, baby," you cooed at his ear, trailing kisses down his neck with every sentence, "so fucking good for me. so fucking good around me. fucking made for me, huh?"
he was gasping your name with every thrust of your hips, every pump of his cock. suddenly his eyes snapped open in the brightest shade of blue you had ever seen them. the furniture around the bed started shaking, twitching erratically in anticipation, the room quite literally radiating in a glow as if you were caught in a beam of light of a UFO. you could only gasp in awe of the scene before you, singlehandedly undoing the man famously known as the strongest before your very eyes.
a power only a woman like you could wield so prodigiously.
with a guttural scream, satoru was cumming hot white ribbons at your straining hand across the sheets of the bed that was now rising up off the floor in a blue haze. you didn't dare let up on him, snapping up into that same spot until hot tears streamed down his face and trailed down into the hollow of your neck. your jaw hung slack as you fought your lungs for steady breath, your eyelids fluttering shut in a dreamlike state of fulfillment as the bed continued to tremble beneath the two of you.
