spongebob critical
as somebody who was raised differently, there were certain things your sisters got than you. sure they had better tutors and trainers, but they always had the best of the best. the best dresses, shoes, friends, the best attention.
and they always got complimented. you would listen and observe, wondering if you looked or acted so inherently different from them that caused people to totally brush past you. for a while you felt like a ghost, wandering around life as people ignored you. your sisters were the light of everybody’s life, and you were just there. always in the back.
but with arranged!gojo, it’s so different.
he always finds a way to say something good about you, things you never considered before. sure he compliments your baking (a part of you wonders if it’s only because he wants more), but he tells you that your horsemanship is stellar or that your penmanship is amazing. it slips out to, as if he actually meant it.
you’ve spent your entire life believing that you weren’t remarkable. you spent years trying to mimic the way your sisters talked or acted, hoping that maybe if you were like them people would notice you. but with gojo it seems like the more you you are, the more he enjoys your company.
one day when you’re trying on some new gowns, courtesy of him of course, he happens to find you in your shared bedroom, having a little break in between his counsel meetings and training.
your eyes meet his in the mirror, widening as you turn around with a bright smile.
“satoru! you’re here! how’d you get here?” you ask, happy to have seen him in between his busy schedule. the tension in his body melts upon seeing and hearing you, eyes softening at your genuine excitement.
“i had some time to spare, decided to drop on by,” he answers nonchalantly, but you can tell with the slight blush on his cheeks that he intently came here, knowing you’d be trying on your new garments because you told him that last night.
you roll your eyes, looking back to the mirror as you survey the gown, pursing your lips. you feel him coming closer, close enough until his hands wrap around your waist and he’s staring at you staring at yourself.
“i liked those ones,” you point to the pile of gowns on the bed, “but i think i look ridiculous in those,” you point to the ones on the chair. alina offered to help you, but you promised you’d be fine. bedsides, this was something you preferred doing in your own.
“ridiculous? nonsense,” gojo snorted, his fingers tracing the beaded work on your stomach.
you lean back into his chest a little, silently looking at yourself in the mirror.
“i don’t think i look pretty in this,” you mutter, tugging at the sleeves.
“what?” gojo frowns, looking down as you and the clothing your staring heavily at, “i think it looks gorgeous on you.”
you huff, chewing on your cheek.
“i don’t know,” you murmur quietly, feeling embarrassed, “my fathers wife always said i looked worst in red.”
gojo feels his brows furrow even more.
“the old hag?” he tries to tease but there’s an underlying bite in his voice.
he’s watched you for a while now, silently. though you talk about your old life here and there, there are some things that have weighed in on you that you never voice.
he’s aware of how your fathers wife and sisters treated you. he knows you were just the spare, an extra part of the family they never liked to include. you told him once how your excludes from the family portrait that hangs tall in the foyer, or how you’ve been erased from the will. he can’t do anything but listen. and he knows he’ll never understand just how badly they treated you there, but every passing day he seems to find out more and more.
“i think you’re very pretty,” he whispers softly, kissing the side of your head as his hands squeeze your waist, his eyes catching yours in the mirror, “and i think you look beautiful in red.”
your gaze wavers from his and to the table, not used to this.
gojo sees the way you fidget with your fingers and the way your breathing hitches. he can only imagine how many times you’ve been told otherwise, forced to think the opposite.
because he wasn’t just saying it to say it. gojo truly believed you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. he knew it from the moment you met when you were teenagers, and he knew it now. there’s a certain beauty that you possess that everybody else lacks.
“thank you,” you say, swallowing thickly as you smile a little at him, “i think you’re very pretty too.”
gojo feels his heart clench at the quietness in your voice, the unassuming way you thanked him, not filling believing his words. and sure he’s been called all sorts of good things under the sun, but to hear the genuine kindness laced in your tone, it made him want to bottle you up and keep you everywhere he went.
his hands squeeze your wait tighter, pressing more kisses to your neck as your squirm, smiling widely at the feeling.
“you are always pretty,” he says as he turns you around, leaning your back on the drawer, “always.”
his hands rest on your hips, blue eyes searing through yours.
you duck your head a little bit, heat biting at your cheeks.
“really?” you ask, looking up at him as he sees a shine in your eyes, trying your best not to shed those tears.
gojo feels his hands tighten on your dress, the fabric snagging under him as he breathes deeply through his nose.
he wonders if this is the first time anybody’s ever told you that. he doesn’t want to know if that’s true.
“really,” he repeats, his voice caught in the back of his throat. sometimes, you find a way to reduce him down to a few words. this man who’s been trained to sway others with his speeches, and he can barely speak around you.
you smile again, bashfully, your eyes creasing and cheeks full. gojo chases after your smiles, your happiness.
because though people might’ve whispered nice things when they know you couldn’t hear, those words never reached your ears. they never drowned out the waves of things you heard around your old house or from your family. and perhaps you spent a while thinking that you were just okay, never pretty or smart or funny enough, just okay.
but gojo says it all, and he says it loud. and you lived in the quite for so long that loud is strange. but it’s new, and you think you like it.
you look down at the gown, admiring the bead and needle work. it truly was a beautiful gown.
“i think i’ll keep it,” you say after a beat, and gojo smiles, a happy smile that he only shares with you.
he leans down, pressing a soft and sweet kiss to your lips, feeling the way you melt into him, holding him close to your chest. you hope he can’t feel the sting of tears at the corners of your eyes, or hear the way your heart beats erratically.
“good,” he murmurs as he pulls away for a second, “good.”
you smile.
“good,” you say, tilting your head a bit to find his lips again.
Yes please I can not be the only one who wants the ORIGINAL Teen Titans back!!
.❝ SAY MY NAME ❞
・ ⟢ ⋮ summary. . . running into your childhood friend you'd lost touch with just when you were in need of a roommate was super lucky for you, too bad living with and getting close to him has you feeling things you probably shouldn't !! just how exactly is he feeling about this arrangement ??
.pairing ﹒ꕀ . gojo satoru / reader wc. ⁀ ⊹ 12.6k
warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ 18+ only, smut, university au, swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, thigh fucking, big dick gojo, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie, fingering, cumplay (not really), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink (if you squint), gojo is down bad, reader is scared of horror films, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, i think that's all !!
Having a roommate is great! You pay less on rent, split utility bills, there’s usually someone home if you get locked out or have to go away for a couple days. There’s many benefits, which is why you wanted one in the first place but when it comes to your reality… it’s a different story. Especially when your roommate is some guy from one of your classes that suddenly needed a roommate when you started looking.
Okay, some guy is a little harsh, you’ve known each other since you were kids, you just grew apart as you got older and have only really gotten back in touch during university. It was surprising to see him on campus but not unpleasant. He was a familiar face on a day where you had no friends in a new environment. It’s embarrassing to think back on it now, with how you practically clung to him the whole day.
Your childhood with him was nice, there’s a lot of memories there. Thinking hard, there wasn’t even an inciting incident to your growing apart. It was natural and happened slowly. Still neighbours but he’d gone to a different high school, and you’d stayed where you were. You don’t really know or remember what happened that you stopped hanging out all together and you were too shy and nervous to just walk those few steps next door.
He was the boy that walked home with you after school, who held his hand out to you when you fell over, who told kids off for picking on you. He was a good friend and always made you smile, losing a friend like him hurt. It hurts more that there isn’t any obvious blame to be put anywhere, it’s not like you guys had a fight or anything.
The fact that your paths had diverged and met again feels bizarre and puts you on edge. Easily falling into step with him before realising you’ve not seen each other in years, a familiarity you feel like you shouldn’t have but is there regardless. Often talking like you’re close before correcting yourself because despite being the same people, you’re completely different.
“Your thinking is disturbing me,” his voice comes from behind you.
The sudden sound gives you a start and you jump, “Geez Gojo,” you turn to look at him, his head tilted and smile lopsided as he leans on the back of the couch you’re seated on, “How long have you been there for?”
He shrugs before throwing his leg over the couch and stepping onto it from behind, flopping onto his ass and jostling you with his movements, “I dunno, a few minutes or more?”
You only hum noncommittally at him, your train of thought completely gone. It doesn’t matter, you have a feeling you’d gotten distracted from the point you were trying to make to yourself anyways.
“You’re gone again,” he pokes at your cheek and you slap his hand away.
“Stop it, I was thinking about something and now all my thoughts are muddled and useless.”
Gojo sinks further into the couch, spreading his limbs out far too wide, “Must not have been all that important then.”
A sound of disagreement from you, “I was thinking about my childhood…”
“Ah…” he sighs, “Must’ve been thinking about me then,” his lashes flutter at you.
And just like that, you remembered what you were initially thinking of. Having a roommate is good in theory and not practice because now you’re living with the single most annoying person on the planet. Only he manages to press all your buttons and you can’t tell if he’s just like that or if it’s because you knew each other as kids.
You choose not to answer him, he bugs you and a part of why he bugs you so much is because he doesn’t even seem a little bit bothered by your past friendship. He’s comfortable around you and is quick to bring up the past, you’d wondered at first if he felt the same sting over your lost past together but his attitude towards you had that line of thinking dropping quick.
Maybe moving in with him was stupid but you needed a roommate and you knew him, it was the better choice but you’re questioning that logic a little bit now. “Do you feel uncomfortable that I’m living with you?”
His head shoots to look at you and his brows pinch, “No.” When you don’t say anything more, he asks, “Are you uncomfortable living here… with me?”
Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s concerned which wasn’t your intention, “No, don’t worry about it… I was just thinking out loud.”
“Wanna know what your problem is?”
Whatever he’s about to tell you is going to be stupid, “No. Not really.”
He gives his answer despite yours, “You think too much, always in thought worrying about things that don’t matter nearly as much as you think they do.”
“Maybe you just don’t think enough,” your retort is quick, not enjoying captain state the obvious over here.
He exhales while shaking his head, like he’s showing you pity, “I suppose you can’t help it; you’ve always been an overthinker.”
And it’s true… you’ve always had a tendency to overthink and for some reason the fact he still remembers that about you makes you feel funny. It’s like you’d half expected him to forget everything about you but time and time again he reminds you that he remembers a lot. More than you’d think he’d have noticed about you as kids.
“Hey, you okay?” His tone isn’t the same from before, no longer teasing, “You seem down lately.”
You brush him off with a smile, “I’m fine, we just have a weird friendship.”
He pouts, “I think our friendship is normal.”
“Of course you’d think that,” you roll your eyes lightly, “What I mean is, it feels weird to go from being so close to strangers back to friends again.”
“Maybe but I personally feel pretty good about it,” he smiles big, “Seeing you on campus was crazy luck and then you were so nervous you wouldn’t leave my side the whole day, it was cute. Reminded me of when we were kids.”
A groan leaves you, starting to feel warmed by your embarrassment, “Shut up.”
“I’m glad we’re getting close again,” his hand rests on top of your head and pats a few times, “Stop thinking so much about the past.”
You don’t have any problems with the past, it already happened, it’s what’s coming that has you feeling so unsettled. Gojo’s hand on the top of your head slides down to the side of your face, his hand caressing you. He grabs you and pulls you closer as he leans in, always so quick to invade your personal space like it’s also his.
He simply utters, “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” You nearly sputter at him, the proximity and intensity of his eyes making you nervous.
Those eyes narrow at you in response, “Worrying.”
You change the topic, “You need to stop getting in my personal space.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he exaggerates, “Am I in your personal space?” He moves in closer, his cheek pressing to yours, the hand on your other cheek holding you still.
You’re laughing before you have a chance to stop, struggling against him and breathlessly telling him to stop, “You’re so annoying! You’re no better now than when we were kids!”
A gasp pulls from you when you both slip in your struggle, your back meeting the couch seats. You’re expecting the heavy weight of Gojo falling on top of you and wince in preparation but when it doesn’t come you squint your eyes open. He’d caught himself with a single arm, hovering over the top of you with a large grin on his face.
The position is suggestive and has you flustered; your eyes wide as you search your brain for the right thing to say. Gojo isn’t bothered in the slightest, smile unfaltering, “It’s adorable how easily flustered you get.” He bops the tip of your nose with his free index finger.
Quickly, your expression drops, brows furrowing, “Get off me.”
Gojo can’t seem to help himself when it comes to you though, faking deep thought at your command. Eyes scanning up and down your body, “Hmm, and if I don’t?”
“I’m gonna hurt you,” threatening through clenched teeth.
It’s almost like he lights up, always enjoying going back and forth with you like this, “Promise?”
“Gojo,” you warn.
He whines at you, “Why do you still call me Gojo, use my name… like you used to.”
You’re a little taken aback by his request, you’d been trying to be polite. Your brain shuffles through the things you could say right now, something smart or funny or just giving into his request. His eyes on yours are imploring, waiting impatiently for you to call to him.
“I’m not gonna do that,” your head turns from him to avoid his gaze, having decided on defiance.
Dropping to his forearm, his head follows yours so he can stay in your line of sight. He’s pressed too close to you now; you’re getting embarrassed by his shamelessness. Your palms move to his shoulders to push him back but he’s holding steady.
“Come on,” he draws out his words, “Please, just once. Please. Please. Please. Please.”
He’s so annoying, he repeats his pleas over and over while you shake your head at him.
He changes his methods, seeing he’s not getting far with begging, “I’m not getting off you until you do.” Hand reaching for your face again, manoeuvring you so he can pull you to look at him better.
The way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter, a pleasant feeling that upsets you. If he keeps looking at you like this, you might go insane. Against your will, your eyes flit to his lips before quickly snapping back to his eyes that are now crinkled with his too big grin.
You pout at him, “I feel like giving into you here doesn’t bode well for me.”
So obvious in how he looks to your lips, slowly tracing your features before locking with your gaze again, “That could be true but not giving in here might not bode well for you either.”
Maybe letting him win will be easier in the long run, you don’t want him becoming more difficult than he already is, “Just once…”
His eyes light up at your acquiescence, suddenly waiting so patiently for you to continue. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to hesitantly utter out his name, your apartment door swings open. Ieiri and Geto kick off their shoes and stumble into your living room. Gojo only groans and drops his head to your shoulder. Disappointed by how close he was to hearing you call to him.
You stutter and fumble over yourself at how he’s dropped onto you, your hands pushing at him, “Gojo get off me!”
“If you’re gonna invite people over maybe don’t try fucking right before,” Ieiri sighs at Gojo like his disappointment is his own fault.
Quick to dispute the accusation, “W–we weren’t doing that! He’s just all in my personal space like usual.”
“Satoru, get off the poor girl,” Geto rounds the couch and pulls Gojo up by the back of his shirt, “Don’t you put her through enough already?”
“You guys have the worst timing,” he grumbles back at him.
Geto lets him go and shrugs, “You’re the one who invited us over, maybe don’t give us a key next time or plan your flirting better.”
“I think you guys have great timing,” you smile at them both, grateful for the save. Especially since the situation was quickly slipping from you. You can’t believe you almost gave into Gojo; he’d absolutely only get worse if you had.
As you sit up properly, Ieiri comes up behind you and strokes the top of your head soothingly, “Would you like us to kill him?”
You laugh at her suggestion, “Thanks but I still need him for his half of the rent.”
Geto and Ieiri are kind and you like them, you’re still a little uncomfortable around them since they’re not your friends. They’re Gojo’s friends that he made in high school and he tends to have them around plenty enough that you’re friendly with them but not much more than that.
As you get off the couch to leave them, Gojo’s hand grabs your wrist, “Where are you going?”
“What? I…” You’re confused, “I was just gonna go to my room and leave you guys to hang out?” He pulls you back to the couch and you collapse into it. Pulling your wrist free, you slap at him, “What the hell?”
He’s unphased by your slaps of admonishment, “You’re gonna watch a movie with us.”
“Do I get a choice?”
He beams at you, “Nope.”
The other two just sigh at Gojo and his antics, moving to get comfortable on the couch themselves. You try to get up again but Gojo is quick to pull you down by the back of your shirt. “I just wanna get a blanket,” you pout at him.
The expression he makes is sheepish and cute, “I’ll get it… sorry.”
Without him in the room you feel nervous and uncomfortable, the silence between the three of you unbearable, “Uhm… sorry about earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it, living with him must test your patience daily,” Geto smiles in a way that eases your nerves slightly.
Ieiri looks around him to look at you, “What the hell was he even doing to you?”
“Ah…” you falter slightly, not sure how to tell them he was tormenting you into saying his name in a position that had suggestive undertones. Maybe overtones is more appropriate here.
“I didn’t do anything to her,” Gojo defends as he comes back into the room, “I just wanted her to say my name instead of always calling me ‘Gojo.’” He flicks the blanket out and places it down over top of you gently, “You guys ruined it though.” Grumbles coming from him as he sits down beside you again.
“You harass her too much, you don’t deserve to be rewarded for that,” Geto rolls his eyes before looking at you, “Don’t reward him for his bad behaviour.”
“I try not to,” you pointedly ignore Gojo’s sounds of offence from beside you.
Geto’s eyes sparkle with something devious as he calls you closer as if to tell you a secret. He whispers into your ear and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine as you try to focus on his words. As you take in what he’s saying, an evil smile breaks out across your face. Gojo’s quick to get nosy, a hand on your shoulder pulling you back.
“What did he say?”
Chirping back at him, “Not telling.”
Gojo continues to hound you for a bit before Ieiri speaks up, “Can we pick a movie? I have other plans tonight you know?”
Geto agrees with her, “What genre?”
And just when you thought you’d have the upper hand for a bit, Gojo slaps you back down, “How about horror?”
The other two go along with it easily, fine with watching something scary. Apparently a newer film has just come to streaming and they’re all interested in it but while they talk about how good it seems, you’re semi spiralling. You look to Gojo, wondering if he remembers how much you can’t stand horror movies and by the shit eating grin on his face, you’re guessing that yes, he does remember this about you.
Ieiri must pick up on your hesitance, calling your name softly, “If you don’t wanna watch something scary we can watch something else.”
Geto turns to look at you, noticing your apparently obvious anxiety, “I’m cool with whatever.”
You feel awful, they came over to hang out with Gojo and they all want to watch this movie. Even though evil man next to you swayed it this way you don’t doubt they’d probably have watched it anyways if you weren’t here.
“No, it’s okay! We should watch it,” you give your best smile and they both seem placated by it, relaxing back into the couch.
A tug on your sleeve draws your attention back to Gojo, his joking expression gone. His voice lowered so the others can’t hear, “If you really don’t want to, we can watch something else… I was just teasing you.”
“I wanna watch it, I’m not a kid anymore,” you brush him off. They’re his friends and it’s his time with them, you don’t want to take that away from them.
He squints at you sceptically but jokes, “If you get scared you can always sleep with me tonight,” he winks and you dislike the way it makes you feel.
Scowling, you turn away from him but he only chuckles, pleased with your reaction. Then he’s starting the film, looking over to you a few more times before seemingly settling in his spot.
Scary movies themselves aren’t so awful, you can get through them, it’s the going to bed at night that’s less pleasant. It’s not like you think any of the monsters are real, it’s just that some small, irrational part of you has you feeling an awful dread. Laying in your bed at night and not opening your eyes for fear that something will be there looking back at you.
It's silly and something you wish you could say you grew out of but irrational fears aren’t known for being rational, the opposite in fact. It’ll be okay though, for a bit you’ll be a little scared of the emptiness of your room during the long hours of the night but that will pass.
The further into the film you get, the more antsy you become. It’s doing a good job of building tension and unsettling you and every moment that’s meant to frighten you, does. And while this is true for you, everyone else seems completely fine as they watch.
You’re actively fighting against yourself to not jump at the parts you’re meant to jump at, sufficiently scared and embarrassed over it. Nibbling at your lower lip as your eyes squint shut at a particularly loud part.
Something brushing against your hand has your eyes popping open, startling you. Looking down, you can see Gojo has slipped his hand under your blanket and blindly reached for yours. Once he’s found it, he takes your hand in his and squeezes once, his larger hand giving you a small amount of comfort.
The action doesn’t go unappreciated by you, relaxing slightly as he covertly holds your hand, hidden away from the two sitting by your side. Now every time you’re frightened, you grab at him and he simply brushes his thumb over your skin soothingly. It’s intimate and makes your heart flutter like it did earlier when he was on top of you. The movie is easier to get through like this but you can’t help but feel like your relationship with Gojo is on a precarious ledge.
When the movie is finished, your hand slips from his and you can’t help but notice his hesitance in letting you go. After that the night doesn’t go on for much longer, the four of you ordering dinner and eating before Ieiri and Geto are being walked to the door by both you and Gojo. Ieiri is ready to leave, eager for her other plans.
The way Geto looks at you reminds you of what he’d whispered to you before the film, a look of realisation crossing your features as you smile at him and Ieiri, “I had fun, bye Ieiri… S–” you hesitate before pushing through, “Suguru.”
Geto’s smile is huge as he returns your name, “Have a good night.”
Ieiri’s chuckle is quiet but doesn’t slip your notice and when you look to her, you see she’s looking at Gojo whose expression is dumbfounded. It’s like he’s an old computer slowly booting up, “Hey! Hey, what the hell!” He points between you and Geto.
Geto acts like he has no idea what’s set him off, “What?”
“We’ve known each other way longer!” Gojo whines at you.
You’re staring blankly at him, “Gojo, you’re being weird…”
“No! No, you’re being weird,” his hand clasps your shoulder, pulling you to face him instead of Geto. His other hand points to himself, “My name, say my name.”
You blink at him, “Gojo.”
He groans back at you, his shoulders slumping as he falls into you. His head sagged on your other shoulder as he laments this turn of events.
Ieiri adds fuel to the fire, “Call me Shoko.”
“Shoko,” you smile bright back at her, whether she offered just to further Gojo’s torment or not doesn’t change how happy you are to get a little closer to her.
“Oh!” She smirks at you, “My heart just skipped a beat,” she pinches your cheek, “You’re cute but I gotta go, bye.”
You wave awkwardly at her as she shuffles out the door, still being clung to by Gojo. He’s wallowing, “You have to call me by my name now, you have to.”
Geto pats Gojo’s back, you can’t tell if he actually feels bad about what he’s done or if he’s mocking him. He smiles politely at you, “Have fun with this!”
“Right… bye Suguru,” you wave him out too, now alone with a depressed Gojo who won’t let go.
Maybe you should’ve thought this through… the blowout feels like Gojo is about to get much more annoying and you’re the only one who has to live with him. “Would you get off me?”
“You’re so awful to me,” he fake sniffles.
“It wasn’t my idea, blame Suguru.”
“You’re even still calling him Suguru,” he collapses further into you, maybe he should’ve majored in theatre… since he’s so dramatic.
You sigh and stroke his hair soothingly a few times, hoping to calm him. “I’m sorry.”
He pulls back slightly to look at you through his lashes, “So you’ll call me Satoru?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He stands to his full height again, looming over you, “Why not?”
“Because you want it so bad,” a half truth, the other half is that it feels so intimate, especially now, especially with him.
“So, if I say I don’t mind, you’ll say it sooner?”
“Would you mean it?”
Thinking on it for a second before he decides, “No.”
“Then no,” you shrug and walk away from him, going to get ready for bed.
⁀ ⊹ ₊ “
The room is so silent and the dark is all consuming, you’re staring at your plain bedroom wall trying to work up the courage to roll over. The irrational fear that someone is behind you nagging in your brain, you thought since you were in such a good mood earlier that you’d forgotten about the movie but the unease is still deep in your bones.
Taking in a breath, you move quickly and roll over, flinging your legs over the side of the bed as fast as you can. Scuttling out the room, you find yourself at Gojo’s bedroom door. His offer earlier had definitely been a joke, you’re certain of that much but your room is scary and it’s worse because you’d only moved here a little while ago. It’s not like your familiar childhood home, this place still feels weird, specifically during the night.
Everything feels different at night and less recognisable and it’s made worse by how alone you feel. When something like this happened as a kid you’d at least feel soothed by the sound of someone up late watching television or the rattling of someone searching the fridge for food. This is unfamiliar and lonely and you wish you didn’t feel like this but since you do, you’re going to wake Gojo up and force him to hang out with you until you’re too sleepy to be scared.
Quietly you slip into his room, approaching his bed with light steps. His form is all spread out, making full use of his bed with his whole body, much like how he spreads out wherever he’s sat. It shouldn’t be an endearing quality but you can’t bring yourself to hate this about him, especially since he’s a fairly big guy.
He looks cute, you wouldn’t say it’s a peaceful sleep since he keeps pinching his brows as his lips move just slightly, like he’s speaking in his dream. But he looks cute, distinctly him. Staring at him like this is becoming creepy so you reach your hand to him, trying to wake him as carefully as you can.
Your touch is gentle but it wakes him easily, he’s always been a light sleeper. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, making sleepy noises of confusion at you.
“I need you to wake up,” is all you say, like it explains why you’re in his room this late.
Gojo grunts at you, “What for?”
His voice is deeper than usual, words lazy with sleep. It makes your head fuzzy, enjoying how he sounds too much. Pushing aside your stupid feelings, you murmur, “I can’t sleep…”
A noise of unsurprise leaves him, eyes squinting up at you, “You should’ve just said you wanted to watch something else.”
“I was fine with watching it though.”
“And that’s why you’re waking me up? Because you’re fine?”
“I just need you to stay up with me until I’m too tired to be…” You trail off, not finishing your sentence.
Gojo finishes it for you, “Scared?”
“Will you just stay awake with me? Please?”
“No,” he slides over to the side of the bed furthest from you, “But my earlier offer stands,” he pats the empty side of the mattress.
He cannot be serious, “I’ve seen how you sleep; I think you’d suffocate me.”
Your name leaves him in an exasperated groan, “Just get in the bed, scaredy cat.”
It’s either this or go back to your empty room and as much as this feels like a bad idea, he’s making you feel better. “Stay on your side.”
“It’s my bed, the whole thing is my side,” he argues back.
Crawling onto his bed and getting under the covers you mutter, “Just don’t try to kill me with your stupid long limbs.”
“I promise nothing,” he stretches his arms up with a yawn.
A few moments of quiet pass and you assume he’s gone to sleep, his back now facing you. He’s so broad, looking at him like this makes him seem like a giant. Without really thinking it through your hand reaches for him, grabbing the material of his sleep shirt with your thumb and index finger.
Gojo mumbles, you can’t tell if you’ve woken him again or if he’d still been awake, “You good?”
Withdrawing your hand as you mutter, “Yeah… I’m just sorry… for waking you.”
He turns to face you, puff of breath leaving him when he flops onto his other side, “Don’t worry about it, I knew you didn’t handle scary movies well when I suggested one.”
“You knew I didn’t handle them well when we were kids, I’m an adult now,” you counter.
A low hum comes from him, “You’ve not changed very much.”
“You have,” he’s undeniably changed from when you were kids.
His interest is piqued, “How so?”
“You’re more annoying now,” you poke at his chest, “And meaner.”
He denies, “I am not mean.”
You look away in thought, “Hmm… maybe not mean but you’re cruel.”
“That’s worse.”
“You’re a tease,” you settle on.
He’s willing to concede, “I can’t deny that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“You get it the worst though,” he reaches for your hand poking at him, fingers unfurling yours and taking them in his.
Ignoring the way his touch makes you feel you sigh, “I have a feeling I knew this already.”
“I can’t help it; I like teasing you.” He smiles, “Your reactions are cute.” He uses his hold on your hand to tug you in closer to him, your front nearly colliding with his.
Suddenly, you’re nervous, “What are you doing?”
“Teasing you,” he answers easily, like it’s obvious.
You’re avoiding his eyes, looking to his throat, his chest, anywhere but his face, “Could you not?”
“I could,” he pauses, “but that’s not as fun.”
You’re so close to him, you rest your forehead onto his chest, “Gojo… if you’re not careful, I’ll start mistaking your teasing for flirting.”
“You wouldn’t be mistaking anything,” he half laughs, “If anything… you’d finally be catching on.”
Did you suddenly drift off or something? You pull back to look up at his face, “What?”
“I’ve been flirting with you the whole time,” he blinks at you, “to be honest I’m really surprised by how long it took you to realise that.”
Can it even be said you realised that? All you did was warn him of possible consequences, “I…”
“I’ve been laying it on thick too you know, I’m a little embarrassed for you,” he’s looking at you with faux pity.
Is he still teasing you, he might still be teasing you. Squinting sceptically at him, “I don’t know if I believe you.”
“Seriously?” He looks actually shocked; he leans down to level you with his gaze.
You frown back at him, “Stop looking at me like that.”
“I like looking at you.”
Okay, that one you could tell was flirting, “Gojo–”
He returns your name in the same tone, cutting you off. It’s tense, with your eyes locked and the now known fact that he’s been flirting with you for who knows how long. You should leave his bed but you don’t really want to. You’re so close now, not even having realised just how close you’d both moved to the other.
Gojo leans in as his hand leaves yours to instead hold your cheek, his lips pressing a soft peck to yours, once, twice, three times. When you’d caught on with his third kiss and kissed him back, he moves impossibly closer, his lips kissing you more. Feverous in how he pursues your mouth, becoming desperate in how he kisses you.
It’s making you dizzy and it’s hard to keep up with him, your hands reach for his shoulders and hold on. His hand moves for your hip, pulling at you, his lips insistent. Kiss messy and wet, his tongue licks into your mouth and you let it happen. Small noises leaving you at how good he’s making you feel from just this alone, he barely even parts to take a breath.
The hands you have on his shoulders push back; your breaths panted as you struggle to say what you want. “W–we should stop…”
He whines at you, disappointed, “Why?”
You stumble over your words, “Because it’s late and you’re sleepy and not thinking straight and–”
“–If you wanna stop that’s fine but don’t take this moment from me because of those reasons,” there’s something almost pathetic about him right now, “I’ve wanted to kiss you forever, don’t make me stop because you think I’ve not thought this through.”
His answer is surprising to you, taken aback by how needy he’s coming across. Instead of saying anything, you press a light kiss to his lips like he’d done to you. He’s quick to return it, lips demanding. His kisses are full and making you feel tingly all over, pulling a gasp from you with how he sucks your tongue into his mouth. This might make you crazy, you’re turned on and delirious.
Pressing your thighs together as slyly as possible, not wanting him to know just how worked up you are. The hand he has on your hip plays with the band of your pyjama pants, tugging them just slightly to dance his fingers along the exposed skin. Not moving any further than that, only gripping at you before sliding his hand back up.
The way he’s kissing you is breathtaking and yet also feels like he’s holding himself back, his fingers tapping against your skin as he refrains from exploring your body further. When he moves back, he nips at your lower lip and small moan slips from you. The sound pulls a visceral reaction from him, a soft groan leaving him as his head collapses onto your shoulder.
His breath tickles against your skin, “Please let me touch you.” He sounds so pitiful even to his own ears, words laced with desire.
For a moment you’re not even sure you heard him right, “What?”
He licks at your neck, shiver running down his spine, “You’ve gotta be so wet, just let me touch you, please.”
You stutter out, “I– I’m not having sex with you like this.”
Tone whinged back at you, “Fine. That’s fine, just– let me touch you.”
If you were surprised by his need before then you don’t know how you’re feeling right now, “Okay, you can–” your words are lost when he rolls you onto your back, his hands shoving your pants off. “Gojo, c– calm down.”
Eyes barely glancing at you, “Can’t.” He’s far too eager, skin buzzing with his excitement, Gojo could almost swear he’s still asleep and dreaming.
Reaching over clumsily to flick on his lamp atop the bedside table, he needs to be able to see this. Oh, and he feels breathless at the sight of you in your panties, like the wind has been knocked out of him. Lower half dressed in innocent white with a pastel little bow on the front. Almost feeling like it’s his birthday and this is his new favourite present he’s yet to unwrap.
“This what you’re always wearing under all those cute skirts?” He mutters out at you.
You’re not even sure you’re meant to have answered until his eyes flit to yours, clearly waiting for you to reply. “Uh, not– not always.”
“Gonna have to show me,” he smirks at the thought, wanting to see you in and out of every pair of panties you own.
Large hands trail up your thighs, landing at the edges of your underwear and just when you think he’s going to finally tug them off, he pulls up. Your panties moulding to your pussy obscenely, leaving nothing to the imagination with how he’d forced them up. Gasping indignantly at him, hands flying to grip his, your legs squirming. His lecherous gaze greedily eating up the view of you like this, delighting in how you’re wriggling. Beyond embarrassed at his actions, somehow feeling more exposed like this than if he’d just taken them off.
“Gojo!” You whine at him, hands clawing at his when he pulls just the littlest bit more on the material.
He bites his lip, not even gracing you with eye contact, too busy to, “What’s wrong?”
“You– you’re such a– a…”
He mocks your stumbling, “A– a– what?”
“A pervert,” you settle on.
Small, dazed giggles leave him, “Yeah, yeah I am,” a hand moves off your hip. Instead, slowly dragging an index finger through your wet slit over your panties, a low growl leaving him at just how slick you are. “Just for you though, sweetie. I’m your sick pervert.”
Your breath catches in your chest, not expecting him to be so depraved, “Could you please– hah– stop teasing.”
“I thought I made it clear that– oh fuck– I like teasing you,” in awe at just how much wetter you got when he started talking, “Hmm… I think you like it too.”
Pouting back at him, “I’d like it better if you touched me.”
“But I am touching you,” he singsongs back, barely there touch dancing around your clit.
“I was ri–right earlier,” your hips shuffle desperately to try and get him to touch where you so badly need it but he expertly avoids your movements.
Hand on your hip pushing you down flat into the mattress harshly, “About what?”
“Hm?” Your brain feels foggy and it takes you a second to remember what you’d started saying, “You are cruel.”
A breathless laugh leaves him, “Sweetheart, you got no idea.”
The devious smile he gives you has you believing him, no doubt in your mind that he could be worse than this. Regretfully, you use your trump card, “Hah– if you ma-make me cum– ah!– if you can make me–”
He takes your phrasing personally, “Oh, I can make you cum, don’t even–”
You cut him off but every time you try talking he taps lightly over your clit with two fingers, “If! Y-you can make– hng– mee~ cum, I’ll say your name.”
That gains his interest, offence gone at the promise of hearing your lovely voice murmur his name. He crawls over your body, face meeting yours, “Promise?”
Nodding your head lazily back at him, “Promise.”
“Gotta seal it with a kiss,” smile dopey as his eyes drop to your lips.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press your mouth to his in a debauched kiss. Tongue pushing into his mouth to lick against his own, his chest vibrating with a sweet moan. Gojo feels fucked and stupid at how you’ve kissed him, not fully expecting you to press your lips to his like that. He doesn’t even want to part, mouth moving against yours effortlessly.
Realising his complete unwillingness to pull back, you do it for him, parting with a wet pop that makes his spine shudder. Gojo’s unable to help the small sound of yearning that leaves him, he would’ve been happy to die from suffocation if it meant you were kissing him like that the whole time.
“Gojo?”
Your voice shocks him back to his body, he’d been staring at you all dazed, “Now I just gotta make you cum, right?” His canines show in his grin, confident in himself.
Nodding at him, “Please.”
He snickers, “Such sweet manners, pretty,” Already shuffling back down your body, his new favourite place coming into his line of sight. Cruelly, he blows cool air on your heated core, enjoying the way you twitch at it.
Big hands pressing between your thighs and pushing them apart, making room for his large frame between them. Feeling indecent in how wide he spreads you open, even more so when he lets out a low whistle at the messy state of your panties. You’re about to admonish him for purposefully embarrassing you when he’s getting comfortable between your thighs and pressing his face into your covered cunt.
Large gasp pulling from your lungs at his shamelessness, skin growing so much hotter when you hear just how deeply he inhales. Deep groan reverberating from his chest, a sound so gutturally pleased that it makes you shy. Legs fighting against his palms, wanting to hide yourself from him and his salacious actions.
Your hands push at his head, “Oh my god, Gojo?! Could you be any more shameless?!”
He doesn’t pull back, speaking into your pussy, “Sure I could.”
Immediately following up with an example, tongue lolling out of his mouth to press up against you. Drooling onto your underwear, already wet material growing slicker. More moans tumble from his lips at the taste of you, enjoying this so much that you’re shocked by how aroused he’s making you.
“You– you’re embarrassing me.”
Only humming back at you happily, words muffled, “You’ll get over it.”
You’re not sure if you believe him, feeling so self-conscious by his brazen desire and not seeing that changing any time soon. Feeling twitchy by how turned on he’s got you from it, you shouldn’t be this into it, you shouldn’t be this into him but you are and you need him to do more to you.
Gojo feels insane, salivating over the taste of your cunt on his tongue through your panties. Poking his tongue into your hole, stopped by the material separating him from you. Simultaneously frustrated and so horny, enjoying this much more than he probably should.
Voice coming out pitchy and bitten back when you call to him, “Please– hng– take ‘em off.”
“Someone’s needy,” he accuses like he’s not about to start humping the mattress below him. Your hips wiggle down into him and he stifles an amused laugh, “let me savour this a bit longer.” And then he sucks on the material of your panties, saliva thoroughly drenching the already sopping wet garment.
Relishing in the shocked squeaks you let out at his action, finding something so addictive about all the sounds and faces you make when you’re flustered and embarrassed. All at once he grows far too impatient, the taste of you on his tongue nowhere near enough anymore, not when he knows you’re leaking divinely and honeyed sweet for him.
Hands rushed and frantic as he pulls your panties down, quickly realising that he’ll need to move to pull them off properly. He’s completely unwilling to move further than he has though so he simply tears them from your body, chucking them over his shoulder to let them fall in tatters.
“Gojo! Those were one of my fav– ah!–”
Not even bothering to listen to your full complaint, immediately diving in to slurp obscenely at your gooey cunt. His eyes roll to the back of his head when he finally tastes you directly, cock twitching in his pants as he moans. Tongue wasting no time slithering into your tight heat, feeling out of his mind as you throb and whine for him.
Why couldn’t you have realised he was flirting earlier? He could’ve been doing this so much sooner and the thought he’s been missing out makes him feel devastated. How many nights did you touch yourself while he was one door down and why is he suddenly jealous of your own hand? His tongue moves inside you and your back arches, a shaky hand reaching down for him which he takes in his own – he doesn’t want you moving him because he’s pretty sure he just found your sweet spot.
Repeating his movements just to get the same huffed moan and full body reaction he got the first time, a lazy smile on his face at the realisation. He has you wrapped around his finger now, sending you wave after wave of pleasure but never enough to make you cum. No, he’s having too much fun teasing you right now and he also knows that as soon as you cum this is over and he’s not ready to part with your gushing pussy just yet.
God, he’s like a fucking animal as he licks and sucks on your cunt, frenzied but lazy look in his eyes every time your gazes meet. He’s got you feeling like a real mess, head dizzied and heavy with the pleasure that’s soaking into your bones. Beyond turned on and so so ready to cum, at first your foggy brain thought maybe he didn’t know but now you know he’s just toying with you.
His deft tongue hitting all the right spots just until you’re about to finish only to start being evasive enough for the high to slip from you all too soon. It’s absolutely intentional and it’s hurting your feelings, why won’t he let you cum? Why does he like teasing you so bad?
Pleasured mind taking it all too personally, eyes wet and glazed when you whimper down to him, “Gojo– hah!– please– hng– please let me cum– mmph–” your voice hitches with your words, “I– I thought you wan– wanted to hear me– ah!– say your name?”
Gojo feels his dick leaking into his pants at the pitiful way you whine at him, finding it all too endearing that you’re this worked up over him. It makes him want to tease you a little more but he’s nothing if not pathetic for you and he’s all too quickly giving in to the cute sounds of you begging him to let you cum. He really could make out with your pretty pussy forever though.
Humming at your continued whimpers and pleads, trying to give reassurance that he’s about to be oh so nice to you but the vibrations have your thighs shaking so much more. Hips fighting to grind down into his face only to be steadied by his large hand on your hip, frustrated sounds leaving you at his continued resistance to help you get off.
Instead of trying to get you to understand, he’ll simply tongue fuck you until you climax. Focusing on that spot he found earlier, pressing his nose into your clit, loosening his grip a tiny bit so you’re able to grind down into him. Fuck, he might die if he lets you ride his face, to be used by you for pleasure could have him cumming untouched.
It’s perfect, it’s so perfect he just needs to not move. You try to tell him as much, “Don’t!– Don’t fffucking– I’m so– hnng!– ah!–”
You’re not even able to finish any of what you attempted to say, orgasm hitting you out of nowhere in the middle of trying to talk. Vision going dark as you shake and shiver through your climax, cunt pulsing around his tongue, desperate to be stuffed so full. You’re struggling to breathe through the best orgasm of your life, hand gripping onto Gojo’s tight as he keeps lapping at your achy pussy.
Gojo is in love with how creamy your delectable cunt is, he’s pussy drunk and feeling like he can’t stop. At least he wouldn’t be able to stop if it weren’t for the raging hard on he’s got, so hard it almost hurts. Reluctantly, he’s pulling back from your pussy and if you were just the tiniest bit more aware of your surroundings you’d feel bashful about how messy Gojo’s face is.
Not even bothering to wipe his face, tugging his shirt over his head quickly before slipping his hands under yours, not taking it off but pushing it up to expose your tits. Big hands groping at you, lightly pinching your nipples when he asks, “You still with me?”
“Uh huh,” nodding lazily back at him, limbs heavy and head buzzing. Watching him and the thinly veiled feral expression on his face as he palms your tits has you stifling down a moan.
There’s such an adorable look on your face, stupid and satisfied. Gojo’s barely holding onto his last thread of sanity, he wants to fuck you so bad but he said he wouldn’t, so he won’t. Resting a hand on the mattress he leans down closer to you, lips brushing the skin of your cheek before kissing your mouth sloppy.
You’re holding onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders. Unable to stop the small sounds he’s drawing from you, the effect he has on you sinful and unfair. Thighs rubbing together as his tongue licks at yours, low rumbles pulling from his chest. Still so horny for him but far too embarrassed to ask him nicely to fuck you.
Lips parting the smallest amount so he can ask, “Where’s my prize for making you cum?”
And now you’re remembering what you had promised if he managed to make you cum. Maybe if you were in your sane mind you’d try and wriggle your way out of it but considering he made you cum so hard you can’t even compare it to anything else, you’ll say it.
Taking a quick breath in and averting his gaze, you mumble, “…Satoru.”
His body reacts a whole lot more to that single call of his name than he thought it would, shiver running down his spine and dick twitching in his too tight sleep pants. Slumping down into you and whining, “Your voice is so pretty.”
Turning his head to the side, he latches onto your neck. Sucking a love bite into your skin, teeth nibbling at you before pulling away and licking over it.
He’d caught you off guard with it, gasp leaving you, “mmph– Gojo–”
He singsongs back, “–Satoru.” He nips at your skin lightly, “Say it again.”
His gaze on you feels heavy, watching your mouth carefully to see how the word forms, “Satoru.”
Eyes falling shut as he groans, savouring this for a moment before pulling from you and leaning back on his knees, “Sweetheart…” Large hands holding your thighs together by the knee as he asks, “can I fuck your thighs? Please?”
That was one of the last things you had expected him to ask of you, his straightforward request making you feel shy. It’s not even like you’re going to say no but you can’t have him thinking you’re too weak for him, “Aren’t you being a little greedy?”
He smiles big at you, like he already knows you don’t fully mean it, “I don’t think I’m following, pretty.”
“I agreed to say your name and that was it and now you’re asking for more…”
“I asked so nicely though,” he points out.
“You’re still being greedy.”
“Mhm,” he hums noncommittally, clearly he’s stopped paying attention. Already lifting your lower half off the bed and throwing both legs over one of his shoulders. “I’ve still not heard an answer from your pretty mouth yet.”
He’s holding you up so effortlessly, strong forearm holding onto your thighs. Free hand reaching down for the waistband of his pants. His eyes look to yours, eyebrows lifting in question, “Where’d your words go?”
“Okay,” you nod at him quickly, suddenly all too distracted by the sight of his slowly lowering pants. Happy trail far too enticing for you to even think of delaying this much further.
His hand stops moving, “‘Okay’ what?”
“Okay you can…” your eyes flit back to his hoping he’ll settle for you not having to say the whole phrase but with the expression on his face – patient and waiting – you can clearly see he’s not going to, “Yes… you can… fuck my thighs.”
He groans, pleased with your answer, “Fuck, thank you so much.”
Pants pushed down just enough for his cock to be freed. He’s so hard it looks aching, flushed a pretty shade of pink and leaking precum from the tip and down the sides. His hand squeezes the base of himself a couple times, taking deep breaths.
Tapping on your leg lightly to catch your distracted attention, “Open your thighs just a bit.”
Doing as he asked without questioning him, legs still over his shoulder as you give him room to move. He slides his cock between your thighs, resting between your cunt so wickedly that it has you fidgeting. The hand that had guided his dick grabs the outside of your leg and pushes, your thighs closing around him.
Gojo’s head tips back as he fights to keep his senses, your skin so warm and soft that he feels a little crazy. Pussy still so wet and messy for him that he can’t help but feel that go straight to his ego, you want him and that makes him feel all giddy.
Below him, you start writhing impatiently. The underside of his cock is pressed up against your clit and now you feel like you’re throbbing with the need for him to actually fuck you open. The moans that leave him are so pretty and you want to hear more, trying to move a little bit more in search of added pleasure but he’s quick to stop you.
The muscles in his arms bulge as he restrains your lower half, head dropping forward to look down his nose at you. The look he gives you makes you feel small, hole twitching at it. You need him to move right now and you need it bad, every part of you screaming for it.
“Move?” your lashes flutter up at him, “I need you– ngh– to move.”
Exasperated but all too amused breath leaving him, “You’re so needy. It’s making me dizzy.”
Frowning at his words, “I am not– ah!–”
But he’s quickly drawing his hips back and dragging his big cock through your folds before slamming forward, the whole length of him driving you insane. Between your thighs feeling so soaked, brain melting all at once.
“Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck– this is– you’re too– hnng–” Everything Gojo is trying to say is cut off by either moans or a brand-new line of thought.
With every thrust he makes you feel a little less like a person and a whole lot more desperate for him. It feels good, really good, so good that you want more. The fact that you’re aware of the fact he’s not even inside you and you’re feeling this good has your brain short circuiting. Fingers digging into the sheets, attempting to ground yourself and completely failing.
Your pussy is positively weeping for him; to be filled by him and it’s taking all of his strength to ignore the way your hole is borderline begging for his dick. Brows furrowed as he focuses on slamming between your thighs, already feeling so pitifully close to cumming like this. How he’s even held on this long is a wonder to him, too close to cumming earlier when he was tongue deep in your cunt.
Hitting your breaking point, you whimper out to him, “Gojo– hng– just put it in– hah!– you can put it in,” nodding your head desperately at him.
Chuckling breathlessly at your whining, “I thought you didn’t– fuck– didn’t wanna have sex with me like this?” He recalls your earlier assertion.
“Hnn– I– ah– changed my mind?”
Biting his lip to stop his moans enough to speak, “You’re talking outta your pussy, sweetheart.”
“I’m not, I’m not– hah!– please put it inside, please.” Worried that you’re not swaying him enough but you want it so fucking bad, insides aching for him, “Satoru, please.”
Well that’s just playing dirty, a small whine slipping from him at your use of his name, stuffing it down just so he can seem composed when he replies, “Well, when you beg me so sweetly like that how could I ever say no?”
Dropping your lower half onto the bed makes you mewl at the loss of friction and he can’t help but laugh airily at your despair. Opening your thighs obscenely just to drag his cock through your sloppy cunt, shivering at how messy you are. Little hole shuddering for him, the sight of it makes him tut.
“Are you even gonna be able to take me, hmm?” he wonders aloud to you.
You’re already nodding back at him, “You can make it fit…” eyes wet and fucked when you address him, “can’t you?”
You may as well have just shot him fucking dead, “Of course I can.” Eyes glinting in the low light of the room, “‘Course I can.”
Slowly pressing into you, opening you up so lewdly on just the tip of his cock. Your hands already reaching for him and gripping onto the hands on your hips. The amount of control he needs for this is astounding and you’re not helping with how twitchy and worked up you are. Every time you show just how much you’re enjoying this, how much you want him, he gets just that littlest bit closer to cumming prematurely.
“Sweetie,” he calls to you, words barely bitten back, “I need you to relax for me.”
“I’m trying, you’re just so–” Your eyes drawing down to where he’s picked you up and started working you open, “–big.”
Involuntarily, his hips drive forward, the tip of him finally slipping into you. The both of you let out moaned sighs, you’re fighting the urge to kick your legs, already feeling so good and nowhere near close to taking all of him.
“You’re gonna kill me, you’re trying to kill me,” he huffs out, feeling like the snug fit of your cunt might actually kill him dead right now and his only regret would be not being balls deep already.
His words are rushed and pitchy at the tail end, like he’s so close to whining about how good it feels. The soft flush on his skin is pretty, expression all twisted in so much pleasure. Looking at him is making you feel too many things, overwhelmed by his cock and how attractive he is. Bringing your hands up to cover your eyes, hiding him from your view.
Your name rolls from his tongue in a soft moan, “What are you– hah– doing?”
His slightly trembling voice has you clenching down on him, “I can’t– I can’t look at you right now.”
“Hmm? Why not?” The smile he’s definitely sporting can be heard in his tone. “Am I turning you on too much,” he taunts.
Replying hesitantly but honestly, “Yeah…”
Gojo was not expecting that from you, his ego growing tenfold from the idea alone, the confirmation only serving to make him even more unbearable. Small giggles leaving him, “How embarrassing~”
Your arms drop in exasperation, going to frown at him but as soon as your hands are off your face, he’s sliding into you a few more inches. Your brain no longer capable of thinking of anything at all, its sole purpose now registering the immense pleasure he’s giving you. Moans broken and shocked at his unexpected move, if your hips were on the mattress you have no doubt that you’d be trying to buck up into him just to take him all.
“Want my whole dick, sweetie?” He hums at you, thumbs rubbing soothingly on your hips from where he’s holding you up.
Your eyes feel wet, vision blurry, “I– hah!– want it, all of it.”
“‘Course you do,” he smirks, “so turned on just by the sight of me.”
Future you will be cursing horny you for admitting that to him so easily, he will absolutely be reminding you of this later. “Sh– shut up.”
“You sure you want me to?” A single brow quirking in your direction, “I think you like my voice, pussy squeezes me so nice when I talk to you.”
And then he’s slowly sinking into you inch by delicious inch, taking care as he does, cautious of how your tight, little hole swallows his cock. Drooling at the lewd sight of your pussy bulging around him, small and bitten back noises leaving him as he pushes into you.
You’re taking him so well, wrapped so perfectly around him, sinfully wet and soft. Cunt so greedy in how you suck him in that he might pass out, trying to focus so hard on filling you completely before he blows his load.
Damn near whimpering when his pelvis hits yours, struggling so bad to hold completely still, softly grinding into you. His whole body feels like it’s buzzing, ears thumping as his blood rushes in his head. Completely elated to be so deep inside you, even more so to see the way you squirm under him.
Your eyes already look so fucked out and dumb, lashes fluttering, struggling to keep them open. Everything feels raw and exposed, mind numbed and complacent, “Move– hnng– you need to– hnn– move.”
“Wait,” he groans, eyes closing to control his breathing, whines still trapped in every breath he takes.
“But–”
“–So cute, you’re so cute– hnng– and you feel fucking fantastic, too good that I need– hah– a moment to breathe before I cum inside you, okay?” He rushes out, words tumbling over each other just so he can adequately warn you that he’s certain this will end early if he starts moving any more than this.
That was cute of him, his bitten back words and grit teeth followed by soft sounds of feeling just so good has your heart jumping in your chest. Struggling so hard to be patient right now, beyond worked up, pussy absolutely throbbing around him. So slick and only getting wetter, especially when he’s admitted to feeling so good from sitting balls deep that there’s risk of him cumming before he wants to.
Maybe distracting him will work, “I’m glad… we got to get closer again.”
“Oh, we’re close alright,” he snarks, looking down at where he’s fucked so deep inside your pussy that it should be criminal.
“You’re such a pervert,” you complain, “I was trying to help.”
Leaning down, he rounds his arms under and around your body, hugging you flush to him. He doesn’t let go of you even as he rises, cock pulsing so hot inside you as he kneels on the bed. You’re clinging onto him so tight, praying that he doesn’t drop you.
“You’re gonna drop me,” you worry.
Nuzzling his face against your cheek, “I wouldn’t do anything to risk losing the tight heat of your pussy, sweetie.” Planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek and then your lips, “Just make sure to hold on tight.”
“You can’t drop me,” you assert.
He soothes, “I won’t.”
Lips locking with yours again, the urge to kiss you sitting too heavy in his chest to ignore. Tongue licking against your own languidly, kissing you so softly, taking his time. Mouth hot and wet as his lips smack against yours, his cock jerking inside you at how it feels to have his lips on yours.
Every part of you is buzzing, his kiss much more gentle and caring compared to the frenzied and needy way he had kissed you earlier. It’s making your heart feel weighted, this shared moment where he’s so deep inside you and kissing you so sweetly feeling so tender that it almost hurts.
Keeping his mouth on yours as his arms move from behind you to grip your thighs, he’s not even sure you register the change, still kissing him back so devotedly. And all he can think about is how bad he’s got it for you now, nipping at your lower lip to make you gasp before kissing you full again.
Hips pulling back, the slow drag of his heavy cock making your spine shudder. Keening into his kiss, lips dropping from his to moan.
“You’re so pretty,” he compliments low to you just before he slams back into you all at once.
The breath you’d had in your lungs exhaled so fast it makes your head spin, pathetic and whingey mewls the only thing leaving you. The compliment he’d given you making you feel a sickening kind of gooey fondness, feeling bashful at his sincere words. His kindness juxtaposed by the harsh way his dick is fucking into you.
Soft and delirious giggles leaving him, “You liked that~” He purrs, head dipped so his lips drag against your collar bone, “I’ll remember that.”
“D– don’t know– hnng!– what you’re talking about,” you babble back.
He coos at you, “I’m talking about– hah– how you liked being told– fuck– how pretty you are while I’m stuffing you oh so full.”
And you really wish you could lie to yourself about how much you like it, but your body is betraying you so severely, cunt gripping him tighter and gushing that bit slicker. Wet sloppy sound of him fucking you hard filling the room, squelching messy and lewd and embarrassing. So turned on that it doesn’t even matter, barely managing to garble out his name, moaning it over and over like a chant.
Back to being so horny and out of your mind that you can’t bring yourself to care about how needy and desperate you’re coming across. Hanging onto him for dear life as he thrusts so fast and deep that you’re seeing stars. His grip on your hips using you as if you’re a toy for him to fuck.
Tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each re-entry, hitting against every delectable inch inside you so completely and effortlessly that you’re starting to drool. “I– You’re so– ah!– deep!”
“Am I?” He stops thrusting, sitting as deep as he can go inside you, single hand drawing up to your stomach, “That means you can feel me here?” and then he’s pressing down.
You grip onto him tighter, clinging desperately, nodding fervently, “Mhm– yes– yeah–”
“–Already close, huh?” He notes. Your reaction so visceral, cunt pulsing around him rhythmically.
“Keep moving?” You rest your head on his shoulder, speaking into his skin, “Please, ‘Toru.”
Evil, that nickname for him on your tongue is so wicked and he doesn’t even think you realise you’ve just called him that. “You’re sending me to an early grave,” he mutters.
Hand back on your thigh in no time, lifting you with ease to keep fucking you breathless. Feeling absolutely devastated by how adorable you are, by how needy you are. Cunt positively creaming around him, saccharine sweet as your pussy begs for him over and over.
Tongue lazy in your mouth at you stutter out calls of his name, starting to have trouble holding onto him effectively. Gojo is the only thing stopping you from slipping back onto the bed, drooling onto his skin. Mindlessly, you press a soft kiss to his shoulder, and you just barely hear the mewl he lets out because of it.
He’s so close to cumming, your loving kiss on his skin causing everything inside of him to go weak for you. “Sweetie, you feel so good– hnn– so so soso good,” he’s drawing in a shaky breath, “and now I need you to cum so good for me, yeah?”
Practically begging for you to cum on him, needing to feel it but you’re so out of it that you can’t reply coherently. Every word a sputtered whimper that you couldn’t stifle down without a hand on your mouth. You’re a complete mess and he feels so much overwhelming pride over the fact that he’s done that to you.
The only sounds you can hear anymore are the soft and sighed whines of Gojo holding back his orgasm, the lewd slapping of skin against skin, and the pleasant thrumming in your ears. The noises you assume you’re making not even fully registering to you, much preferring to hear Gojo’s anyways.
So close you can taste it and when he starts giving little rutted grinds of his hips every time your pelvises meet, you’re done for. Crying out broken moans as your cunt pulses hot and wet around him, cumming so hard you lose focus, vision dark and hazy and fucked so stupid.
You’re gripping him so tight, pussy trying to desperately milk him of everything he’s got. Veins in his cock throbbing against your walls so sinfully. Feeling so fucking sensitive with how he’d been holding back from cumming pretty much since he put his mouth on you.
Urgently, he gets your attention, “I’m gonna fucking– hnnn– cum, I need to– hah– I need to put you down so I can pull out.”
You only cling onto him tighter and shake your head, legs closing around him firmer, “Cum like this.”
And even if he wanted to argue with you a little more… he couldn’t. The lazy way the words formed against his skin and the cute way you’re drooling on him as him cumming so suddenly. Forcefully slamming into you a final time, dumping all of his cum so deep inside you and painting your walls an obscene creamy white. Hands gripping your thighs so hard that he thinks he might leave bruises of his hand prints behind. That thought alone making his dick twitch even more.
Feeling so boneless as he very carefully lays you down on the bed, his breaths coming fast against your skin as he reels from his own orgasm. Staying like that for a moment, pressed so close to you while you both come down from your highs. Aware enough to hold himself up by an arm so he doesn’t crush you under his weight.
As he goes to pull away he quickly realises you’re not about to let him go, “Gotta let me go, sweetheart,” he mumbles.
Brain taking a second to catch up to what he’s just said and the fact that you’re still clinging onto him, “Hm?... oh… m’sorry.”
His heart seizes in his chest, and he can’t help but press sweet kisses to your lips over and over, humming happily against you. Your grip loosens on him, and he fights against himself to pull back, there’s something he really wants to see.
Sitting back just to watch as he pulls out of you, his seed leaking from your gooey hole as he does. Shuddering at the view of it, his lecherous gaze lighting up at how much he’d cum inside you. As if on autopilot, his fingers collect what’s leaking from you and stuff it back inside, stroking against your inner walls.
His intention far from innocent, perverted touch making you twitch and whine. So hypersensitive from everything he’s put you through, one of your own hands reach down for his and grab at his wrist, trying to stop him.
“What’s wrong?” He asks through a smile.
You whimper at him, “Too sensitive, ‘Toru.”
Oh and there’s that nickname again, the one that make his heart skip a beat. “You’re okay, sweetie,” he hums as praise, “doing so well for me, you can cum one more time can’t you?”
You shake your head but your grip loosens and his grin grows wide on his face, he’s never forgetting how reactive you are. Still, he’s careful with you, he knows he just fucked you within an inch of your life, touch gentle as he fingers your pussy full of him.
Scissoring his fingers and gently rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb, “Your pussy is divine.” He continues cooing at you more, “Took me so well, so greedy for me, hm? So wet and tight, had me feeling like I was going crazy…”
You want to tell him to shut up, that he’s so embarrassing and shameless but your words won’t come. Mouth too occupied with letting loose the scandalous cries of pleasure you’re feeling, damn near pornographic in nature.
Back arching meanly only to be pushed right back down by his hand on you, trailing it from your sternum down your torso to just over your lower stomach. Lustful and plotting grin on his face when he pushes down, more of his cum leaving you only for his fingers to pull out to stuff it all back in.
It’s like he’s playing with you, getting a sick kind of enjoyment out of watching you squirm and leak with his seed. Already you’re so close again, barely having come down before he started finger fucking you, sensitive and dopey.
“Someone’s getting close,” he singsongs to you, the clicking sounds of him playing with your sopping wet cunt making your skin hot with shame.
Gojo puts effort into focusing in on that one spot he found earlier when he was tongue deep in your pussy, stroking you over and over, elated by the shocked and fucked look on your face. Body fighting so hard against its own pleasure and yet still greedy and begging for more.
Eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you cum yet again, struggling to breathe through it, whining out Gojo’s name over and over like how you did earlier. Twitchy and high strung and so so sensitive, thighs closing around his hand as you shake through your orgasm.
Forearm covering your eyes as tears slip from your waterline, everything feels so raw and electric and hot. Unable to even hear properly with how your head is rushing, all your senses dulled and simultaneously on edge.
Gojo tickles his touch up the outside of your thigh and you jerk at it, “Atta girl, did such a good job,” he compliments.
“I died,” you huff out.
“You didn’t die,” he wipes his fingers on your thigh, before crawling up your body.
You continue to complain, “You killed me.”
“I would never,” pulling back the arm hiding your face from him, “I like you far too much for that.”
Your only response back are begrudged grumbles that you don’t really mean. It’s hard to play angry at him well when you’re so high on your pleasure, body buzzing so pleasantly and head still dizzyingly content.
He smiles fondly at you before kissing you sweetly, lips lingering for a moment and then stating, “I’ll be back.”
And then he’s gone, and you’re left on the bed swimming in the relaxed and satisfying feeling thrumming through every inch of your bones. He shuffles around his room for a moment, changing into a clean pair of pants before scuttling out the door quickly.
Semi confused on where he’s gone until he comes back with a glass of water and a towel in the other, “Can you sit up for me?” You lay still for a moment, and it prompts him to check, “You can’t?”
“I’m thinking,” you don’t really want to get up, but you do, slowly dragging you body up to rest against his headboard.
He hands you the glass, motioning for you to drink while he sits down by your legs. Using the towel to gently wipe between them, careful not to touch you where you’re too sensitive. you finish the water and set the glass down on his bedside table where his lamp is lighting up the room.
Glancing down you quickly realise your shirt is still rolled up over your tits haphazardly, it suddenly feels dirty, you want a new shirt. “Gojo, can you grab me a shirt from my room… please?”
“Hmm?” He looks up to you and shamelessly stares at your tits, to which you cover them with your arms and frown, “I’m wiping my cum from between your thighs but you’re suddenly too shy for me to look at your tits?”
It’s not logical but that’s exactly how it feels, “Yes.”
Playfully, he rolls his eyes but gets up, discarding the towel in his hamper. He doesn’t go to your room though, simply tugging a shirt from one of his drawers. Walking back over to you with it in hand, “Arms up.”
Thoughtlessly, you do as he asks without question, arms raised up and waiting. Of course he takes the opportunity to blatantly stare at your chest, “Hey!” Your arms drop down.
An unapologetic giggle from him, “Sorry, sorry. Raise ‘em up again.”
You pout but you do lift them again and this time he actually takes your shirt off, it gets chucked over with the towel and the fresh shirt he grabbed is pulled over your head. It hangs off your frame and is clearly not your size but it’s comfy and soft and it smells like him.
Suddenly you’re feeling sleepy, eyes blinking slow as you struggle to keep awake. Something that changes when Gojo simply picks you up off his bed and starts walking out the room with you.
Yawning as you rest your head on him, “Where are we going?”
“To your bed, someone made a huge mess of mine,” he grins.
“And whose fault was that?”
Quirking a brow at you, “I’m pretty sure it’s yours.”
Feeling bashful as you pointedly look away from him, “Shut up…”
You both get into your bed beside each other, and you can’t help but snuggle into him, he’s so large and warm and it’s not even like you could avoid it because he was quick to wrap an arm around you and pull you snug to him.
Yeah… this friendship was definitely on a precarious ledge, and you tumbled right over the edge of it…
𝒂.𝒏. meow meow meow i hope you enjoyedddd,, this had been sitting in my writing folder since the middle of january and i couldn't wait anymore. i needed it finished and it's technically not because i had so many roommate gojo ideas that i couldn't add :< anyways !! THANKS FOR READING ILY❕
[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
Blue morpho butterfly
Someone give this man a megaphone.
me age 10: mOTHER I MUST SHAVE
mom: no
me age 17: look at all this leg hair. nice.
mom: PLEASE SHAVE YOUR LEGS I CAN FEEL YOUR LEG HAIR CARESS MY ANKLES FROM ACROSS THE ROOM
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