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ackermans-angel · 14 days

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ORAL FIXATION - gojo satoru !

SYNOPSIS : ❝ gojo teaches his bestfriend’s sister some tongue technology. ❞

FEATURING : bestfriend’s brother! gojo satoru x fem! reader

CONTENT WARNING : minors do not interact, fem! reader, virgin killer! gojo kinda?? age gap ꒰ gojo is 30 reader is 20 ꒱ a little bit of mean dom! gojo [ he loves to tease ] gojo has a tongue piercing and i’m not sorry about it, gojo has tattoos, cunninlingus, squirting, fingering, use of pet names and profanity such as ꒰ sweet girl, angel, slut ꒱ AUTHOR’S NOTE : hiii, this is a re-upload for my friendship is magic series. as always, enjoy and reblogs n interactions are loved and appreciated <33. WORD COUNT : 3.9K!!!

GOJO SATORU loved the beach.

the sound of the sea singing a song with its waves is one of a kind. it was soothing, delicate, and tranquil, like the sand beneath his toes. it was the ideal location for just about anything, whether it was a party, a get-away, or even a place to clear his mind— he adored it even with all of the drawbacks: the fishy smell, the scorching sun, and the various trash and plastic waste littering the sand—it was worth it. gojo was indeed capable of overlooking minor annoyances. besides, thanks to you, he had grown to appreciate the sticky sunblock covering his porcelain skin.

the pretty woman reclining in a pink beach chair next to him. you were leaned back, your legs crossed with a book in your hands, drowning out the sounds of the world around you. your hair was pulled toward the back, a baby blue swimsuit hugged your curves, and the sun shone brightly on you.

and you looked absolutely gorgeous.

gojo realizes he’s been staring at you for a little too long when he hears your small voice say, "see something you like?" and smirks in return. your teasing tone of voice only prolonged his fixed gaze. you knew what you were doing.

“you really wanna’ flirt with me while your brother is sleeping just inches away?” you stare back at him, looking at yourself through the reflection of those infamous, black sunglasses, “what are you going on about anyway?”

you shrug your shoulders and return to your book. satoru snorts at your carelessness. he didn't think traveling with his best friend on a family vacation would be difficult, but you seemed to have no trouble disproving him. you’d been acting out since the start of your seven-day retreat: flirting nonstop, embracing him a lot more than usual, and strutting around in these tiny skirts and dresses like a devious little minx.

he was well aware of your crush on him; it was obvious. not to mention the numerous times he's overheard you telling your little friends how 'cute' he was. he presumed that as you grew older, it would only be a matter of time before you began to act on your feelings.

“you’re playing a dangerous game here, yn.”

you twirl the gum in your mouth around your finger while lowering your glasses to look at him, “aww, poor satoru. would you like to forfeit?" you taunt while batting your lashes flirtatiously. you interpret his silence as agitation and decide to lay off, despite how it was entertaining it was to mess with him.

he was driven mad by you, despite his playboy persona. in a matter of a wink or two, he was willing to give it all up. sometimes you wondered why he hadn't made a move on you already. regardless of you being ‘off limits’ you would assume he’d catch on to your antics by now.

“why fight it, gojo?” you ask, piqued with curiosity, “is all the frustration worth the effort?” he chuckles lightheartedly in response. this small front you were maintaining could only be kept up for so long. he could tell by the way your body tensed up at the first hint of his attention that you were more bark than bite.

sounds like you both had a little crush— and satoru was determined to get you to admit that.

whether or not this situation was forbidden, he found himself wanting to see you as more than just his bestfriend’s annoying little sister. he’s seen the best of you, and the worst— but he loved every part of it. his attraction to you was becoming harder and harder to balance in secrecy— “you talk a lot of shit for a virgin,” satoru begins suddenly, “you’re a tease too, but i think you like the chase a lot more. you’ve just never been caught before, huh?”

you lie, “i don’t know what you mean,” and he nearly scoffs, “and i’m not a virgin by the way.” your attempt at being naive wasn’t your best performance, he saw right through you.

“oh i think you know. and are you sure? i can recall you leaving someone with blue balls the first time you tried. said he smelled bad, remember?”

yeah, you remember. it was quite literally one of the worst nights of your life.

“i don’t like liars, baby.” he glides his tongue across his top row of teeth, a piece of metal from the middle poking from his lips as he gets closer to your face, “but i’ll tell you what,” he continues, “why don’t you knock on my door later and show me what you’ve got? i know i may be scary, but i don’t bite— most of the time.”

his proposal sounded more like a step by step tutorial on how to embarrass yourself, but you weren’t the type to refuse a challenge. if you had to fake it till you make it, that’s exactly what you’ll do.

“fine. whatever. and handle that little friend of yours in your pants, it’s noticeable.” gojo peers down at the hard cock that poked through his swim trunks, smiling a bit when he catches you staring too.

“‘ little’ is much of an understatement. you’ll figure that out later on though, won’t you sweetheart?” the sound of geto’s heavy footsteps shuffling on the sand stops him from toying with you any further. he moves closer and motions for satoru to join him while holding a football in his hand.

“what are you two talking about?” he asks, juggling the football in his calloused hands. you abruptly shake your head from side to side, “just books,” you utter, smiling innocently up at his tall stance.

“lame. well then, you should be thanking the gods above that i’ve come to your rescue, huh satoru?” he jokes and satoru stays silent, his gaze still fixed on you as the conversation you just had rummages through the tabs in his mind.

“yeah, guess i should..”

geto gives him an odd look, but quickly ignores the awkward tension to begin their game of catch. you watch as the two boys vanish into the distance while wondering how the hell you were going to escape this one.

evening comes quickly, with only the pale moonlight illuminating the dark night sky, you were finally ready to take on the challenge that was: gojo satoru. as you stood in front of your mirror adjusting your shirt and adding finishing touches to your flawless makeup, you prepare for the night ahead of you— but when it came time to use your room key to lock your beloved humble abode, you couldn’t help but to worry. the chances of getting away with this were slim, but when would you ever get another opportunity like this?

for crying out loud, he was gojo—a person you've been drooling over for years. even if you wanted to express your feelings openly, you weren't in a position to do so. he was your brother’s best friend— practically family to everyone other than you. the desire ran deep, but the last thing you needed was to come out like a desperate fool.

as you approach his room with a full head, anxieties and numerous ‘what if’s’ begin running circles around your mind. you raise your hand to lightly kick against the wood after sending him a quick text telling him that you were there.

a creaking sound of the door opening in front of you drowns out your thoughts as a shirtless satoru stands before you. his chiseled abs did your panties no justice— just like the small cross tattoo carved into his v-line.

when did he get that?

“see something you like?”

you roll your eyes as he mocks your words from earlier, “i guess the tattoo is cool," you shrug. gojo chuckles and moves aside, creating a gap for you to squeeze through. like promised, you discover that your brother is nowhere to be found as you scan the room.

"you look cute. dress up this nice for little ole’ me?” satoru takes a seat for himself on the crimson love seat and motions for you to join him. you do— after neatly putting your shoes by the walkway, you plop down next to him, deliberately making your thigh brush his own.

“don’t get too cocky. you’re not special.” you’re careful to mumble that last part quietly. you didn’t want to get to ahead of yourself— but if we were being honest, you were far past that point by now, because here you were: sitting next to a guy who you’ve wanted to pursue for so long. it was almost surreal, especially since you were about to partake in something so personal, so intimate.

“and what would i be cocky for? i asked you to join me tonight and you did. i must be doing something right, don’t you think, yn?” he tilts his head to the side and quirks a slick smile— it spread across his lips so easily, not even realizing how how much it’s making your stomach churn.

“why would i turn down a good time?”

ah, testing your limits— but still managing to keep it flirty. smart girl.

gojo uses your response as an opportunity to move a little bit closer to you. just enough room is left between your bodies so that his arm doesn't quite touch the back of your neck, yet he’s still so close. you almost believed he could smell your nerves like this— more like predator and prey.

“a good time, huh? think i’m some kind of professional?”

“could be. why else would you invite me here?” you ask. gojo soon detected that each of your inquiries were intended to stall the conversation; as a result, he decides to surprise you by asking, "why are we avoiding our wants?"

“i should be asking you that. i was waiting for you to make a mov—“

you’re taken aback when satoru plants a sweet smooch on your lips. they gently touch, but it’s enough to make you grab him by the necklace and pull him closer. his lips were incredibly soft and smooth, almost like a feather skimming across your mouth with each peck as his hands squeeze and caress your exposed thigh here and there. it was sweet, and everything began slowly, with your lips moving in unison against each other, exchanging a series of moans and groans.

“i’m sorry, but i had to shut you up somehow," he says in between breaths. he guides the pace of the kiss in slow motion, taking his sweet time tasting the mango flavored lip gloss you smeared on them beforehand. “you just looked so fucking pretty," he exhales, his chest heaving up and down with excitement.

“well then, don’t stop.”

you didn't have to tell him twice. this time, he attacks your jaw with pressure, “you feel really good, gojo," you moan, throwing your head back as he begins to bite and bruise your neck.

“yeah? im glad you think so, but i think i can make you feel way better, angel.”

as you feel his hand reaching for your waistband, the butterflies in your stomach flutter faster than before. but it was that exact gesture that jolted you to your senses, “gojo you can't. you know geto would actually kill you—” you object, but a small laugh escapes his lips and silences you.

“baby, i’m thirty, and i make my own damn decisions,” he interjects, “and it seems that you feel the same. you don’t think i can feel how wet that pussy is when it’s rubbing up against my thigh like that?”

he wasn't mistaken. you were certain that there was a damp spot on the inside of your underwear just from kissing. it was almost embarrassing, how quickly he’d gotten you there— but how couldn’t you when he was touching and talking to you like this.

"what if geto comes back before we finish? he’ll tell my parents, and you know how strict they are—" your rambling is interrupted by faint kisses to your cheekbone. gojo presses his knee against your cunt even more firmly and licks a long stripe up your neck—

“well i guess we’ll just have to try our luck, hm? now, what’s with all the running, sweet girl? just let me pet this pretty pussy why don’t ya?”

it only takes a simple ‘yes’ for him to scoop you up and carry you to the larger couch. he wastes no time peeling off your shorts slowly, leaving you in just your underwear. with each exhale, you could feel the air leave his nostrils as his face drew closer to the heat of your pussy. gojo briefly pauses to inhale your scent, the aroma immediately sending a wave of euphoria through his chest. he could feel his cock begin to rise all over again just from the smell of you alone.

“i wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell,” he states, “i think it’s time we find out, yeah?” he runs his thumb across the band of your underwear line, fingertips tickling your hips and eyes sparkling at the sight of you.

“fuck, please—gojo.”

he laughs, “now it’s please? just a moment ago you were chickening out on me. i think you should just come out and tell me what you really want.”

“don’t be a dick.”

as you begin to watch him peel your panties off, your hips wiggle from side to side to help shimmy away the fabric completely, your moans coming out as a light sigh. he maintains eye contact while doing so, making you far more nervous than before. you grab a hold of his wrist to pause his actions, “i’ve never done this!” you exclaim, and gojo gives you that sexy chuckle of his. as he places a gentle kiss on your calf, then toward your inner thighs, your face scrunching in embarrassment.

“you don’t think i knew that already? look at how responsive you are, baby.” he says this as he lightly glides his index finger over your swollen clit, flicking upward at the small bud before casting a bright grin at your whimpers, “i also know that virgins get wet so easily. i could do it again and you’d probably cum all over my hand, but that’s okay. make a mess. i don’t mind getting a little dirty.”

he kisses his way up your thigh, then looks you in the eyes as his mouth reaches your cunt. gojo began with a small peck to your clit, but hearing you wince and lift your shirt to better see him made him want to devour you right then and there.

“what if i touched you right here?” he uses his thumb and index to roll your bud between his fingers, the slight pressure making your body flinch, “would you cum for me?”

“y-yes. feel’s s-so good.”

“or, hm, what if I did this?” he lays his head against your thigh and begins to suck on your clit with sleepy eyes. “gojo, oh my god—” you cry in delight, raking your fingers through his snow-white hair. you didn't expect him to go to such lengths when he said he could make you feel even better. because of your sensitivity, even the smallest action would have pushed you over the edge.

"oh my, look at how you're trembling. that’s how good my tongue feels, huh?” he mocks you by licking a long stripe against your pussy with the flat of his tongue. the cool metal of his tongue jewelry flicked at your clit, making you shiver. he swirled and twisted his tongue around you as if he were licking on a lollipop— just eating you completely up.

“you taste so fucking good.”

gojo closes eyes and the smacking sound of your cunt was followed by grunts and whimpers of contentment coming from his chest. you could almost compare gojo’s audible reactions to those of someone discovering candy for the first time: disoriented and blinded by its sweetness.

truth is, satoru was completely infatuated by you. he was biting, sucking, and slobbering on your inner thighs and folds, leaving love bites and saliva trails in his wake. every moan you let out seemed to humor him, dark chuckles falling from his lips leaving a vibration to rattle through your core. he tried his hardest to keep it under control, but you were just too adorable to ignore.

“gojo—fuck, m-my stomach feels weird.”

you’ve had many orgasms from simply masturbating before, but something about this one seemed overpowering. there was a strong pressure on your lower tummy, almost as if you needed to go to the bathroom.

you begin to worry, hoping that the amount of pleasure to your sensitive pussy wouldn’t cause you to let out the wrong kind of release, but gojo quickly swats your anxiety away when he intertwined his hands with yours, “don’t worry, my love. it’s totally natural. you’re about to squirt for me, baby,” he mumbles it so casually and your eyes widen.

you can briefly remember seeing people do it porn, but you’d never done that before, let alone had someone else drive you to it. as weird as it was, there was something making you want to feel that bubble burst.

“can i take you there? please? i want it so bad, sweetheart— just give it all to me.”

his lovely words paired with his tongue were already plenty, but when gojo’s finger accidently brushes past your hole, the moan from your lips becomes louder than intended. gojo picks up on this, giggling a little as he detects your reaction to his mistake. he takes a break from licking to look up at you. you could clearly see his handsomely sculpted features sitting between your thighs right now.

his blue eyes were so intensely lighted by the fluorescent lighting that they could look right through you. his swelled lips were gushing saliva, and your heated slick was all over his mouth and chin. he looked like something straight out of a dream.

“oh? did you like that? don’t tell me i turned you into a greedy slut.” you were aroused more than you should have been by the degrading name, but you weren't one to complain. you eagerly nod your head up and down, whining a small, “mmmn— yes! i'm all yours,” as you move your hips toward his face, hoping he'll resume eating.

“hah, looks like someone wants to cum.”

you were dazed by this point. you were so eager to cum that you were willing to let anything get you there, and fortunately for you, gojo was more than willing to assist.

despite his desire to savor his meal, he succumbed to greed as well. allowing im to stick his finger in was just going to drive him insane. you could only imagine what he'd do if he was fucking you right now, because the sounds of your breathy moans were nearly enough to get him high.

he asks, “you ready?” as you watch him spit on his fingers before teasing your entry with his middle finger. you whimper, “y-yes,” and tighten your hold on your thighs, raising your legs in an effort to spread them wider for him.

gojo circles your hole before inserting only the tip of his finger. “you’re doing good, baby,” he says slowly, watching your every move and expression, wanting to make this as painless as possible for you. “how does it feel?"

“i-i feel good," you could only flutter your eyelashes as he moved his finger in and out of you, the creamy sounds of your warm slick staining his fingers being the only thing you could hear between you two.

your gaze is drawn to the veins protruding from his arm, which were brightening the inked patchwork he'd gotten all those years ago. when you turn to endure him, his gaze is already fixed on you, a grin on his face that was more determined than deviant, almost as if he was eager to finally make you unravel.

“toruuu! shit! that feels s-so—,” your hoarse voice tries to scream, but when he picks up the pace, you're officially silenced. he observes your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the tip of his finger flicks upward. your heat's squelching wetness easily tells him everything he needs to know, “you want more? it seems like this pussy does,” he chuckles. you were so close. he just needed to find that perfect spot.

he knew one finger would suffice, but he wanted to see you corrupt. he briefly teases his ring finger, which ironically had the mood ring you’d found and given to him a few days ago. you must not have noticed due to the sensations clouding your brain.

you feel this— the second finger, and you whine at it. you wanted more, so much more, “put it in! p-please, please.”you cry. you weren’t even concerned about the burn of the stretch. you just wanted him so badly, your lust was overruling your worry.

“relax for me. it’s just us, okay? it’s only us,” he reassures while slowly entering in that second finger. the words he was mumbling surely did sooth some of the pain, your mind paying more attention to the sound of his voice rather than the burning stretch between your legs.

“look at how easily you take me. wrapping around my fingers like this— you’re so beautiful.”

you were in a frenzy as you watched his fingers tap at the same spot over and over. for reasons you couldn't fathom, he was drawing you in closer and closer.

your stomach bubble reappears, but this time it appears to be about to burst: “toruuu —‘s too much,” as you groan and struggle to get the words out, he sticks his fingers in and out of your pussy. at this point, you begin to try to break free from his grip. maintaining he pressure on your abdomen was becoming increasingly difficult. "t-toru, baby, slow down!” a prickling sensation tapped against your womb, begging you to just let go.

“what was that? this pussy’s talkin’ over you— you have to speak up, love.”

the animalistic groan from your lips propels him to go faster and you cry out, “satoru! f-fuuuck, i’m gonna’ cum!” he seizes the opportunity to hover over you while pressing down on your lower belly, “cum for me, baby,” he groans, and your orgasm becomes more abrupt and violent as you begin to spurt droplets of fluids from your pussy.

gojo continues to finger fuck you until you're wetting up his arm and the couch beneath you, hollering out broken whimpers and releasing crystalline tears from your eyes. to calm you, he immediately takes his fingers and rubs light circles on your clit.

“you did so well,” he mutters as you sway his hand away from your poor, sensitive pussy, using your force to bring his face down for a kiss, your eyes blinking shut as you feel him scoop you into his arms bridal style.

eventually, satoru escorts you back to your room after cleaning you up and allowing you to shower for about thirty or so minutes, that way, you could finally lie down and relax, safe and sound after one hell of a night.

it wasn’t long after before your brother returned from his night out. he enters the room with a confused look on his face as he sees satoru cleaning up what looked like a wet patch on the chic furniture, “why’s the couch wet?” geto asks, sliding his shoes off his feet as he makes his way toward the kitchen.

“i had a girl over.”

satoru’s response sent a shockwave through his chest, “you? a girl? no way. who?” he bites into his sandwich and rushes to a seat near his best friend, excited for the details.

“i don’t kiss and tell.”

©️ SATORUBI 2023 please do not copy, repost as your own, or translate any of my work without my knowledge <33

tagging my lovely’s <33 : @spoiledbunny @venusflytrapstar @lemonadebreeze @f4iryvile @neesiewrote

#gojo fic recs

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ackermans-angel · 14 days

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✎ . . .❝WERE YOU TRYING TO SHOOT A PORNO?❞

— minors dni, suggestive, crack, roommate! satoru x reader, fem! language towards reader, ‘stuck in a piece of furniture’ porn trope

You’ve gotten yourself in quite the predicament, haven’t you?

“…Oh, baby, how’d you end up like this?”,Satoru laughs behind you. “Were you trying to shoot a porno? ‘Girl stuck in washing machine gets fucked stupid by handsome roommate’ .”

“Can you just fucking get me out already?”, you snap, struggling again for leverage but your movements yield no results. You’re stuck in the most inconvenient, most uncomfortable, most awkward position.

“Ya know—,” Satoru’s voice is closer now as he leans over to get a better look at your pitiful position,” —I never realized just how short you were. I mean, your feet aren’t even reaching the floor right now.”

“Satoru—“

“Pfft. You’re a little gremlin. You could probably fit into the washing machine, too, actually.” Strong hands grasp at your waist, hovering you over the depths of your confinement. “How’d you get stuck in there, anyway? Trying to hide from me?”

You hesitate on answering, knowing it’ll only fuel the impending short jokes. “…..I was trying to reach the rest of my clothes at the bottom.”

“And?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. “I fell a little too far into the machine and I couldn’t push myself out.”

Gojo tsks, giggling. “Oh, you poor baby, being so short must be such a painful existence.”

“Shut the fuck u—“

“Don’t you worry, Daddy Satoru is gonna get you out of here in no time.”

“And don’t call yourself that!”

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @hellkaiserinphoenix @lxnarphase @cinnamoneve @sabrinexx @rosso-seta @sapphireandange @rxddxvotion @venusiansilk @biscuitsngravie @babytoshiii @kissesfrombelle @v0ctin @purplegemadventures @luvvforliaa @apatauaia @sataraxia @leilalilox @kayleegomez @satoruxx

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midnight happenings

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru wakes up and looks for you

warnings: references to things that none of us will understand (kidding), little angst, mostly fluff, nightmare and such

last part | next part

year three

"satoru?" you whisper, blinded briefly by flashing white hair.

your door has been creaked open--like you usually keep it in the dead of the night--but the hallway light is on, illuminating the body in front of you like a ghost.

you could be dreaming, still, but your head hurts from the sudden interruption, so you know you're not.

he's like a monster lurking in the dark. waiting for a moment where you're vulnerable before he attacks. he's always been better at patience, remaining in one spot for a millennium, than you have.

but still, you sit up, because you've never been afraid of him. you blink, trying to recognize his cobalt-aquamarine eyes in the dark. they are still so bright, it's a bit shocking.

he inches closer, not saying a word.

there is no smile on his face that you can see. no hint of mischief in his movements. usually, when he creeps into your bed this late, he's looking for something unobtainable. something you know he won't take and you won't give.

but tonight his eyes are brief matches in the dark, lighting and flickering out, waiting for you to understand.

and you do.

"are you okay?" you whisper, not wanting to break the hesitation between you two. you don't know where it goes next, once that bubble pops. your voice is groggy and slightly dry.

"sorry," he responds, the only real answer you need.

satoru doesn't apologize for anything except his sheer audacity.

you sit up even further, flicking your light on.

the both of you flinch at the intrusion of your lamp. but you don't look away from him, brows furrowing. "can't sleep?" you ask, instead. as if it will get you somewhere.

he shakes his head.

you watch him for a moment more, long and lanky in your room, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

then you pat the space next to you, folding your legs underneath your body, trying to remember how to read him this early in the morning.

satoru doesn't say anything, but he's quick to respond, crawling into bed next to you without a look at you. clearly, he doesn't want you to change your mind on this.

it's the quickest you've seen him move in a week.

you watch as he curls himself under the expensive bedsheets--ones he bought--probably scoffing at the color choice internally, but he doesn't look back.

his eyes are stuck on the duvet like the pattern is going to jump out and attack him.

you don't have a single thing to say. no question to ask to put the two of you at ease, no witty remark to keep you afloat when satoru seems to be dredging through the water.

and still.

"you look tired."

"yeah," he murmurs.

"did you--" you shake your head. "did you finish the rest of the sesame cookies again? sugar rush?"

his head lulls over to you, and there's a brief, anxious smile. "of course not," he says.

"then why are you still awake?"

"missed you. it's lonely in my room."

"it's been..." you turn towards the clock. then back. "four hours."

"too long."

you smile, slightly, understanding this deflection better than anything else. "you're like the kids," you muse, "coming to cuddle in the middle of the night."

"smart ones, those two."

you lean closer to him, eyes falling to his hands, which are raking through the covers like he's going to discover that you've hidden something in them. you can almost see them shake. you swallow. "do you need to talk about something?"

his eyes dart towards yours. "what? no."

"okay."

"do you need to talk about something?"

you shake your head. "no. i'm good."

"okay. good."

you bite your lip as he looks away, focused again on any inanimate object you have in here. the floor, the ceiling, your dresser, or the bouquet he bought you rotting on it. you sit there, watching his hands trail over the sheets, his eyes flick over the walls, his mouth move like there's something stuck inside--something he can't quite say.

so you do it for him. "i couldn't sleep, either."

his brow raises. "i heard you snoring from across the hall."

"i do not snore, satoru, please don't insinuate ridiculous things."

his lip quirks.

you sigh, making a show of rolling your eyes. "anyway, i get it. how come it's always so cold in this house?"

"because you told me that i shouldn't install a different furnace in every room."

you hum. "could've gone with a fireplace, though. some ambiance. spice this place up a little, you know?"

"i don't think i'll be taking your interior design advice," satoru answers, looking at you--all of you, finally--his smile a slight thing.

a hint at the boy you're used to, his frustrating demeanor.

"another mistake you're making," you tease, smiling back.

and you watch it--as his face shifts, momentarily, like 0.2 seconds is enough for him to process every emotion that's ever flooded through his body. his eyes dart away, his mouth folds, and satoru goes back in on himself.

and you know it was the wrong thing to say.

"hey," you whisper, words coming out before you think about them. "i like it here. even if it is cold."

"yeah?"

"yeah. with you and the kids. and this giant bed that serves no purpose for one person."

"that's why i'm here," he says.

"oh, of course."

"have to make sure you're respecting all of the mattress space."

"well, i wouldn't want the mattress to be unappreciated," you lean your shoulder against his, sighing when his head falls on yours, stepping stones leading to one another. "would i?"

"you're welcome."

"very observant, satoru."

"it's the eyes."

you laugh hard enough for him to feel it, for your body to shake against his--like it might ground him back to the world. pull him from the water and shake him off.

you don't quite know who this satoru is, because he's not really yours. but he's not the man who could wipe everything out in an instant, if he just wanted a little break. and he's not the man who's dealt with that alone, without any person to help, no one to ask any questions.

maybe he's a child, again. one you never got to meet.

but it feels a little impossible.

you swallow, after a moment. then you move your head back, shifting so you can properly look at him. "you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

satoru looks back, his eyes an expanse of sky and pain, mirroring some parts of you. he doesn't shake his head, doesn't nod. "i..." he whispers, like an answer.

"was it a nightmare?"

this time, he nods.

"i get them, too. sometimes."

"yeah?"

"why do you think i end up in tsumiki's bed every couple of nights?"

"i thought that was a girl thing."

you smile, leaning to nudge your forehead against his. "nah, tsumiki's just a good cuddler."

"how 'bout megumi?"

"please. i think he'd probably dislocate my shoulder in his sleep if i even tried. at least now that you showed him the hand-to-hand stuff i told you not to."

satoru raises a brow. his eyes are close enough that you can feel his eyelashes fluttering. "everyone needs a little protection from ruthless midnight cuddlers."

"who's going to protect me from you?" you ask.

this time, you get a full-blown grin. a satoru special, just for you. "no one," he says, "you're stuck with me."

"don't i know it."

you tilt your head back, remaining a couple of inches away, but breaking the contact.

satoru watches. his eyes are so focused on yours, that it feels like some sort of manipulation.

but you know it's not.

or, at least, not any sort of manipulation he can control. you've dealt with satoru's sweet eyes and addicting smiles since you were a teenager, and there's no escape.

"you know," you whisper, blinking rapidly, trying to fall away. "it helps to talk about it. sometimes. remind yourself that it's just a dream, and nothing more."

satoru looks down, watching your lips as they move. he could be asleep with how still his face is. so unlike the usual expressions you dread to watch, the neverending shifts in behavior. the quirks and quips falling from his horrid mouth.

"it's not..." he shakes his head, leaning back. "it's not really a dream."

"what do you mean?"

"it's--it's always things that have already happened. memories, i guess. it's not a nightmare."

or maybe it is, goes unspoken.

"oh."

"so, i don't think... i mean, i can't wake up from real life, or whatever."

your body stills. you want to tell him that if he talked about it, it might go away. that his memories are pushed so far back that they're intruding on reality. that he needs to let it go, let the past fade like a scar. still there, but unburdening.

but you know that satoru won't listen. if you know anything about the man--anything from the seven years that you've spent with him, watching him react to the constant battle of living--it's that.

he's not going to listen to you. he never does. and you shouldn't expect him to. not when he knows that you can't understand, that you never really will.

still, the words rest on the tip of your tongue, like a dagger ready for the plunge.

"it's okay, though," satoru shrugs, suddenly. brushing his entire existence off as if it's removable. "it's fine."

"it's okay if it's not."

he blinks. "i know," he says, almost defensively. "but it is."

"okay."

satoru swallows, his fingertips brushing on the bare skin of your leg. you haven't been this close to him for a couple of months, since he stopped coercing you into staying the night. it's strange, the environment of the two of you. an inadaptable habitat.

"sorry," he whispers.

"it's okay. it's fine."

"okay."

"i have nightmares about megumi a lot," you say, short. "he's always doing something stupid. something you would do."

satoru tilts his head. "like what?"

you roll your eyes. "forgetting to turn off the stove and setting us all on fire. drinking out of the milk carton. or bringing home a curse just because."

"i only did that once. i wanted your opinion on something."

"'do you think it's eyes are green or brown? maybe hazel?'" you mock, shaking your head.

"it was a dire question," his lip quirks.

you shake your head some more. "but when i wake up i always remember that megumi isn't stupid like you. he thinks things through."

"hey," satoru chides, but he doesn't really care.

"and sometimes," you say, again, even softer. "i have dreams about you. about you doing something stupid, like always, but..."

the rest goes unsaid. it's not an idea that needs to be verbalized. not a belief you hold in the pit of your heart, a fear you've experienced too many times.

satoru leans closer to you. "i know," he says, instead of an apology, or some type of comfort. "i get those too."

so you wrap your arms around his shoulders, almost unconsciously, leaning in as you let satoru hold you up for a moment. like he's done all of those other late nights. you hug him close, unsure if you'll ever really break the distance between the two of you.

but you can feel it as satoru's arms wrap around your waist, squeezing with you, differently than he usually does. his breath is soft against your head, a break in the dark.

"i know," you whisper to him, an echo, and it should be enough.

but you're not sure that it--that this, the proximity between the two of you--will ever be enough.

that thought fades into the night, though, like every other sleep-deprived whisper you've shared with satoru. it won't be worth it to bring it up again in the morning. so you won't, and neither will he.

but you'll hold him now. like a promise you can keep.

when you wake up in the morning, your fingers are curled around satoru’s.

every part of you feels achy. like just being this close to him has infected you with another disease—some curse you won’t be able to shake off.

and you only realize this when two heads are standing above you, watching you closely.

“are you awake?” tsumiki asks you, like your eyes are not an indication of anything.

“doesnt that hurt?” megumi frowns, immediately after. “gojo is heavy.”

he’s referencing the man that’s partly on top of you, his mouth leaving a sure mark on the skin of your neck, breath hot and wet.

you blink rapidly, trying not to flush under the feeling of him there (literally under).

“you guys hungry?” you say, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

they both nod.

“okay, just—“ you sigh, hands raking through satoru’s hair. “gimme a minute to wake him up. go get your backpacks and i’ll make breakfast.”

tsumiki nods and steps back. megumi’s brows furrow at you. “we have to leave in thirty minutes.”

you roll your eyes. “i know, megs. i’m up.”

he shakes his head. “not you,” he nods. “don’t crush her. i have school.” he tells satoru, sternly, and then walks away, dragging tsumiki along and out of the room.

satoru, who’s eyes are wide and open, so close to yours that they are almost nothing.

“hey,” he whispers, grinning.

next part | series masterlist

a/n: for all of you that think i hate satoru, he's my baby

#gojo fic recs #comfort fic

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ackermans-angel · 26 days

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reader being absolutely FLOORED when she see's spencer wearing his glasses for the first time after years.

the darling invention of contacts has since left spencer reid in the highest of delights, but wallet feels otherwise. a budget break, he's been calling it, although the label is one he keeps to himself. but the tables are turning when he tips over the empty box, expecting at least one last pair of contacts to spill out onto the bathroom counter, and there's nothing.

he gives it another firm shake, grunting with the effort; even goes so far as to turn it over and get a good look at the vacant contents through blurry eyes. "damn," he tosses the useless cardboard behind him into the trashcan he needs to empty.

"you alright?" you're adjusting the collar of your blouse, laying it flat against your collarbones so it doesn't obscure the new chain that lies limply around your throat. "if the toothpaste's gone, i bought an extra tube the other day, it's just right under the sink."

he shakes his head, but yanks the bathroom drawers open regardless, mussing up the neat array you aligned in your hasty organization the week prior. "no, can't find my glasses."

"glasses? you haven't worn those in ages, they're in the top drawer, sweetheart." the pile of dried, cracked contacts on spencer's bedside table speaks truth to that, and there will be no mourning their absence.

spencer exits the bathroom, dirty frames resting clumsily on a since foreign nose, squinting through the fog that musses up the glass. "jesus," he scoffs, wiping them clean before you have the chance to catch a glimpse of his since-forgotten profile.

"let's see you then," you're toying with your collar again - too nervous about displaying the gifted necklace for your own good - as you await the new look.

spencer sighs when he shoves them back on his face, trying to dart away from your eager eyes but you steady two strong hands against his shoulders. "lemme see!"

he huffs, shoulders dropping, and you pull a face, lip rolling out from under the top. "you look so handsome," you croon, pushing the falling frames back up the bridge of his nose. "haven't seen you in these in forever!"

"shut up," he grumbles spitefully, but still stamps a kiss against your jaw, shaking free of your hands and budging past you to find his shoes. "i'm not really all that excited about derek's commentary, if i'm being honest."

"i'll protect you, big boy," you lament with an indulgent pout, grabbing your purse from the coat rack. "c'mon, better hurry if we're gonna catch the subway, and then you'll really get an earful."

#Spence fic recs

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ackermans-angel · 26 days

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Me after reading

ok song request idea: dress by taylor swift. like spence and reader work together and everyone just thinks they’re best friends but in reality they are much more. anyways the team goes out and reader wears a special little dress and spencer goes a little crazy and yeah that’s the idea

Such a perfect song, thank you for the idea! And btw this is just very witty writing please enjoy my sense of humor yall🙂

Take it off

or in summary, the one where Spencer has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

cw: 18+ implied sexual content but nothing too explicit; wc: 1.8k

MASTERLIST

“…only bought this dress so you could take it off…”

IT STARTED WITH A GLANCE. The subtle look he gave on her arrival at this dinner festivity the team decided to put together had him quivering in his seat, his eyes almost bulging out of its socket as they roamed across the piece of clothing plastered on her body, or perhaps, the lack of it. The silk material hugged her curves so effortlessly, highlighting the way her luscious body was pressed along the short fabric that he was so close to whimpering like a dog.

It was an obscene thought, one he never considered crossing his mind and one that would leave him extremely appalled if anyone knew the truth of it. Comparing himself to a domestic mammal just because he was prone to submit to a master...

He must be mad. Utterly, completely out of his mind.

Yet he couldn't help it. Not when he was practically following her with an imaginary tail wagging between his legs. Not when she looked like a goddess and he was inclined to worship her existence. It was a sense of devotion and adoration, like a feeling of reverence for her curves and figure, for the way she carried herself every time she moved.

It was an intense sensation that was hard to explain, but Spencer would describe it as close to paying tribute to her beauty. To everything about her. Not only was the feeling overwhelming, but it was also intoxicating how the stolen glances enticed the need to reach out and feel those curves right in the palm of his hands.

It was torture. It was an incredibly torturous endurance to be held in his place while she looked like that. Smooth legs, exposed back, and soft cleavage teasing his whim. She also smelled incredibly delicious. A fragrance of delicate flowers with a hint of warm vanilla that made him dizzy with need. He needed to be kept on a leash before he did something he would regret.

Because he needed to behave. Between undressing her with his eyes and wanting to grab her by the waist just to ravish her completely, he needed to keep his calm between his peers, especially when Prentiss had accidentally caught him staring—which he had to mask as finding a newfound interest in the tablecloth single-handedly picked by Rossi, the host of this joyous event.

But it was getting hard to conceal his shaking hands, to act as if he wasn’t craving her touch. It was getting even harder when she suddenly came up to him later that night as he stood by the dessert table, a variety of sweetened goods bought from the most authentic patisserie in town.

"Hey, Spencer." Dear god, even her voice sounded like velvet to him. He watched as her lips slipped into a taunting smile. "You look handsome tonight."

He looked down at his attire. He was never one to put much thought into his choice of clothing, his concern mainly for comfort, not for style. But tonight he adorned himself in a crisp white button-down under the best suit jacket he possessed. It's a black-tie event, Rossi had said the day before. He wasn't sure why his colleague wanted to host a simple dinner into a fancy soirée, but he was a mere guest, and he'd follow anything the host of the night instructed.

He also felt rather silly wearing this bowtie, but after hearing her genuine compliment, it gave him a sense of pride and joy. It also gave him a boost of confidence as he took a step closer, his eyes raking over her body very slowly as if he was taking his time relishing the stunning view in front of him.

Y/n felt the intensity of his gaze as he muttered, "And you look unbelievably irresistible."

A choked laughter slipped out of her mouth. Talking to Spencer had always been interesting, especially whenever he had something factual to share, but the whimsical words coming out of his mouth was what amused her the most.

"I'm told that I look pretty tonight, but I do like that better." She lifted her glass to her lips and noticed the way his eyes lingered on the top of her dress, a full display of cleavage visible to his enjoyment. "So I take it you're fond of the dress?"

"It's exquisite." She giggled at his choice of words. But then the amusement in her eyes slipped into bewilderment as he continued, "Although as much as I enjoy seeing it on your body, I think prefer it on the floor."

It took all of her abilities not to spit out the sweet taste of the expensive wine she just sipped in her mouth. Y/n had to swallow the liquid down her throat and take a deep breath before she could do anything, her mind haunted by the specter of his hands fiddling the zipper on her back, rough fingers grazing her skin as they slowly slid down her body.

"Spencer," she finally murmured, trying to sound disapproving, but it was far too husky.

"What?" He asked innocently. "I'm being honest."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

What was he scheming? What kind of game was he playing, proposing suggestive words, pushing all of her buttons beneath the innocent look he portrayed? The air was suddenly charged with tension. It was a palpable sensation of yearning and lust that came with a sense of danger and risk. It was like a wave of heat washing over her, a very primal and overwhelming feeling that was extremely difficult to control.

Deciding that she wanted to participate in his game, she knew the only way to get the upper hand was to give him a taste of his own medicine. She twisted her head and peered at him through her lashes before executing her revenge.

"Then it's a good thing I bought it so you could take it off."

Perhaps to those around them, they looked like good friends engaging in an innocent banter, heads together, whispering silly jokes. Not in the middle of exchanging explicit promises while he attempted to school his expression on the suggestion she was spouting.

He leveled her gaze. "Statistically speaking, ripping it off would give me a higher chance to do the things I want to do to you sooner."

"Yeah?" She quirked an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by this. "Give me a number then."

"Well, satin is made from silk, synthetics, or polyesters that is a very delicate fabric and is quite frail and fragile. So it would take me approximately..." He looked away, marveling at the possibilities, before assessing her with a look that had her feeling extremely flustered. "...three seconds to rip it off."

The extra graveling timbre of his voice had an effect on her libido. Her tongue swiped her bottom lip while his eyes followed the movement. "You’d actually rip the dress?"

His gaze lingered on her mouth. "In a heartbeat."

"It's very expensive."

"I'll buy you a new one."

Her head was spinning. The image of his large hands gripping onto the fabric and tearing it apart should've repulse her, it was such a primal thing to do that it seemed so close to an animal-like instinct. Like a dog. Like a wolf. With the heat of his gaze, Y/n was sure he could even devour her the moment his hands touched her skin. Eating her whole would be an extreme notion, but eating her like a man starved as he buried his head between her thighs was something she considered possible.

His gaze was so intense that she had to look away to calm her breathing, to let her heart normalize its pace. But then she felt fingertips brush her shoulder. It was light, almost imperceptible, causing a shiver to run down her spine; goosebumps breaking out all over her limbs. This was extremely dangerous, but he had some kind of pull toward her and all the rational thought keeping her sane flew out the window.

Y/n bit her bottom lip as those warm fingers made their way down the sensitive skin of her inner bicep, then slowly made their way down her forearm. The tease of it was completely enthralling. It wasn't until she felt the pressure of his palm on her backside that she gasped in surprise. And it wasn't light—oh no, it was immensely rough. His hand gripped onto her left cheek with utmost force, squeezing it thoroughly that she had to straighten herself, her eyes going frantic.

"Spencer!" She hissed indignantly, looking around them as she swat his arm away.

"I'm sorry! I can't help it." He cocked his head, his eyes still piercing onto her ass as his intrusive thought won over him. "What undergarment are you wearing? They look incredibly smooth."

She didn't know whether to laugh or hit some sense into him. "Please behave, someone might see us."

"But they didn't." He gave her a sheepish smile, nodding his head towards their colleagues who were deep in conversation with one another. "And they won't."

She held the urge to roll her eyes. "Just keep your hands to yourself, Dr. Reid."

"Or what?"

"Or..." She glanced at him, noticing the way he was watching her. The sparkle in those hazel orbs was enticing, they were somewhat deep in this pleading yet captivating manner that reminded her of doe, puppy-like eyes. Seeing this she couldn't help but muster, "Or I might have to put you on a leash."

The heat creeping along his cheeks was enough for her to spew out an amused laugh. "Spencer Reid," she goaded, enjoying the way he was flustering over her teasing. "Didn't know you had it in you."

Spencer looked away, clearly embarrassed being caught of his lewd thoughts. He was trying to avoid her gaze as he picked up his forgotten glass resting on the table. She couldn't stop herself as she leaned forward on her heels and hid herself from any onlookers, slightly settling her lips on the crook of his neck, inches away from tasting his skin.

"And to answer your question," she whispered, waiting for him to casually take a lazy sip of his drink. "I'm not wearing anything underneath."

Y/n couldn't help the triumphant smirk as he choked on the mouthful of wine he just swallowed. He then gaped at her, absolutely flabbergasted, and she gave him one last blistering look before excusing herself on the pretense of the bathrooms. Her hips swayed with every move it was hard for him to look away, because all he could think of now was to run his hand up her thighs just to be greeted with soft, wet folds aching to be touched. Aching to be tasted.

It took a lot of self-control for him not to bark.

requests are open if you have a song in mind!

#this is so so so good #Spence fic recs

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