limitless (satoru gojo x reader)
notes: uh. should be working on my halloween fic lmaoo. but uh. thought i'd bang this out. inspired by a conversation with @shotorus about the names we use to refer to certain characters in narration. lmao.
contains: fem! reader (the only physical trait is that reader is shorter than gojo, gojo almost uses a gendered term for reader, but is cut off), established relationship (me: coughs up blood), typical gojo antics, nickname usage (darling, honey, sweetheart, babe), part of the infinite loop fic verse
wc: around 720
"...I have a question."
You look at Gojo expectantly. Normally, he just says whatever is on his mind without pause, without filter, so you don't get why he's standing on ceremony right now. "Yeah?"
"We're dating, aren't we?" he asks.
You nearly spit out your drink. He's not wrong; for better or worse, he is your boyfriend now. The fact of it is actually kind of unbelievable when you think about it. Not just you dating Satoru Gojo. But you dating Satoru Gojo. If you had told yourself that it would have come to this ten years ago, even five years ago, you would have thought yourself a liar.
Now he's the one giving you the expectant look, his lips curved upward that little smile that always manages to get your blood boiling. The cocky bastard probably just wants you to admit it.
You consider saying 'no' just for the hell of it.
You decide not to. It feels almost as if you’re pulling teeth when you respond, “...we…are.”
Gojo’s mouth puckers and you brace yourself knowing full well that he’s about to start whining about something. There’s always something with this guy…"If we’re dating, then why am I still just 'Gojo' to you? I call you by your first name!"
"You've always called me by my first name," you dead pan.
"That's because I've always loved you!"
You roll your eyes. You know that's a lie, but you don't intend to argue with him— at least not head on because you know that it’s just going to lead to a dead end. "No, you love disregarding proper social etiquette. Or rather, you don't see the point in it."
"Oh, darling, you know me so well!" Gojo gives you a saccharine smile and you almost gag.
"Don't call me that."
He pouts. "Well, if you say I always call you by name, shouldn't I call you something else to show how special you are to me?"
"...no, actually, just my name is fine." A nickname from Gojo sounds dangerous. The thought of being called some cutesy nickname in front of everyone you know is mortifying. In fact, Gojo would do it solely to embarrass you.
So, naturally, he ignores you. "If darling is no good, what about... babe? Honey?"
"Gojo, really, you don't—"
"Sweetheart? My love? Oh, I know, I bet you'd love to be called pr—"
"Satoru."
He immediately stops talking, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. You didn't think that that would have that much of an effect to be honest. For once, it feels like you have the upper hand. You make sure to savor the moment because you know they are far and few in between.
"Just my name is fine," you repeat. "...okay?"
He gulps and answers, "...okay."
You try not to let your mind linger on the fact that his voice just now was lower than usual. "Good. So—"
"Say it again."
You blink. "Huh."
"My name," Gojo says, his voice thick with emotion. "Say it again."
When you don't say anything he takes a step toward you, the infinite cosmos in his eyes staring you down. You feel defiant. It's not fair of him to ask you anything when he looks and sounds like this. Gojo takes another step closer and you think that if you're adamant about not giving in to him you better do it before he gets too close.
"You've... " you start and hate how breathless you sound. This bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to you. "You've hit your daily limit."
Gojo pouts and takes another step. "Well, that's not fair."
"You're not fair," you retort.
He doesn't argue and you take that as Gojo admitting that he's playing dirty. "I think you should up the limit."
You hold your ground as he takes one more step closer.. "No. You think there shouldn't be a limit."
Gojo chuckles and leans down to bridge the rest of the distance between you. He cups your cheek, bringing your face closer to him. Your breath stills as you feel his own on you and it’s damn near intoxicating. His mouth is barely touching yours and your thoughts shift from trying to keep the banter going to how the slightest movement from either of you will result in a kiss.
“You’re right,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours. “There shouldn’t.”
704 notes
·
View notes