#i wrote this with yan golden girl branch in mind but it can be read otherwise if one Wishes

[ddarker-dreams]

please, please, PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FOR GOJO THE GOJO DROUGHT(esp writing) IS KILLING ME

warning for explicit not sfw, reader is fem, and yan gojo being questionable as ever.

"You've really been hurting my feelings, y'know."

Gojo whispers these words beside your ear, the lighthearted lilt masking the weight they carry. You squirm, attempting to wriggle away, but he's unrelenting, pinning your wrists above your head and keeping them there.

It's his eyes that startle you the most. He's made no effort to conceal the mania glossing over them, bright blues coruscating like sheets of ice. They pick you apart at a molecular level, feeding him an endless stream of information.

"Ignoring my calls..."

His finger ghosts over the mad pulse in your throat.

"My texts..."

He kisses you there while his hands explore lower—

"How's a man s'posed to take that?"

—And lower.

"Aren't you being a little too cold with your husband?"

Gojo plays with the hem of your skirt, bunching the fabric up along your thighs. You bite your lower lip to suppress the noises dying to leave your lips. He smiles, whistling lowly when his fingers feel the wet patch in your panties. Your cheeks burn hot and you avert your gaze. Chuckling, he steals your breath by tracing lazy patterns against the outline of your pussy.

"Fuck, you're way too cute," Gojo smothers your neck in obscenely loud, wet kisses. "Acting all pouty when we both know you missed me terribly. Poor thing."

"You're so full of yourself," you huff, unable to come up with anything better.

"And you'll be full of me soon enough."

You make a face at him. "That's really lame."

He squeezes your thighs not so gently and tuts. "It's still good enough to get you going. Seriously, you're fuckin' soaked. I should manhandle you more often."

Finally, he pushes your panties aside, rubbing circles against your clit. You try ignoring his wolfish grin when you part your thighs for him. His breath is hot and ragged against your neck, betraying his excitement. He guides your hand past his waistband, groaning shamelessly when you grasp the twitching outline of his cock through his briefs.

"Take it out, baby," he coos. "C'mon. You know how I like it. That's right, good girl."

You stroke him slowly, somewhat amazed by the sheer amount of precum coating his length. In the meantime, he pulls your skirt and panties down, the unexpected roughness almost making you lose your balance. He keeps you steady by lifting you up. You yelp, scrambling for purchase, which you find by encircling his waist with your legs.

"Satoru," you hiss. "If you think I'm gonna just forget and pretend like— mm...!"

"Sorry, what was that?" He questions, all the while rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance. "Mind repeating yourself?"

You shake your head and wrap your arms around his neck.

"You're the worst," you grumble.

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

"I know," he admits as he sinks into you. Then again, this time quieter, almost failing to reach your ears. "I know."