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You dream of Gojo, warm and solid beneath you. It’s not the first time you’ve dreamed about him, nor will it be the last, but something about this one feels different. All the little details that your mind usually skips over have been filled in: his steady breathing, the scent of his cologne, the softness of his shirt as you clutch at the hem. It would appear that your mind has conjured them all for you to enjoy.
You can’t pinpoint when you become aware of the fact that you’re not completely asleep, but as you doze it registers that this is all a little too real to be a dream. There’s no sense of urgency or sudden revelation in your exhausted mind, just the knowledge that you should probably get up in the near future.
Gojo stirs when your eyes flutter open, your lashes tickling the skin of his neck. “Good morning.”
It’s very clearly not morning. The light streaming in from the windows has the distinct golden quality of late afternoon.
“What time is it?” you ask, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
His glances over at the clock. “A little after five. You were out for about an hour.”
Following his gaze, you recognize the familiar scenery of your dorm’s common area. How did you even..?
It’s at this point that the full context of your situation finally registers: you’d taken a nap on your upperclassman and long-time crush, Satoru Gojo. That on its own would be embarrassing and grounds for merciless teasing, but add to it the fact that you’ve been clinging to his shirt and possibly drooling all over him? He’s never going to let you live this one down.
His arm wraps around your waist as you start to sit up. “Hey, take it easy. No need to get up right away, I’m not going anywhere.”
“But—“
“But nothing. You need to rest.”
Trying to squirm out of his iron grip, you shift on his lap and another humiliating truth makes itself known.
One of his thighs is wedged between your legs. Based on the low buzz of arousal registering below your hips you’re almost certain you’d been grinding on him in your sleep.
Dropping your head back down onto his shoulder, you try to gauge the situation. Just because you can feel that you’re wet doesn’t necessarily mean that he feels it, right? Unless you’ve already soaked through the thin fabric of your panties, in which case you’re about to die of embarrassment.
“Where’s everyone else?” you ask tentatively.
“Out. They’ll be back in a couple hours.” Gojo’s lips curl into a little smile. “Why do you ask? Are you worried about getting caught in such a compromising position?”
“I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
His smile widens into a full-blown grin. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Can’t have our classmates seeing the wet patch you left on my thigh. That would definitely give them the wrong idea.”
Of fucking course he knows. You’ve had enough of this. Gojo’s grip is as unbreakable as ever, but if you really make a scene you know he’ll let you go.
“That’s it. I’m getting up,” you say. It’s all the warning he gets before you try to escape. Gojo’s eyes widen as you thrash around in his arms, his glasses sliding down his nose.
“Hey, what are y—!”
He tightens his grip on your waist, using it as leverage to hold you at arms length the same way one would a feral kitten. This inadvertently drags your hips along his thigh, pulling a borderline pornographic moan from you. Both of you freeze.
For a moment the only sound is the slight creak of the fan blades whirling overhead.
“Everyone is actually out, right?” you ask, staring hard at his collar. There’s no way you’re going to be able to meet his eyes right now.
“Yeah.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, smug bastard. “It’s just us.”
He loosens his hold on you, setting you back down on his lap. The stimulation draws a whine from you, considerably less loud but just as embarrassing, and his fingers twitch, digging into you before he makes himself relax them.
“You still wanna get up?” he asks, running the pad of his thumb along your waistband. “Because you can if you want to, or you can keep riding my thigh. It’s up to you.”
Okay, so he’s giving you an out. That’s nice of him, even though there’s no way you’re going to take it. This is so humiliating.
Leaning forwards, you return to your original position, burying your face in his collar. He laughs, cradling you to him.
“Aw, don’t go getting all shy on me now. It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
“What was I doing before I woke up?” The question comes out muffled, but he seems to understand it anyway.
“Well, let’s see…” Tapping a finger against his lips, Gojo reflects on the past hour. “At first you were just sleeping quietly, then you started making all these cute little noises. And then… Y’know it might be easier for me to just show you. Would you like that?”
Nodding against him, you shudder as his fingers tighten on you.
“It was like this,” he says, guiding your hips into a slow rhythm. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning softly into the fabric of his shirt.
“You like that, baby?” He stops, patting your thigh. “C’mon. Let me see that pretty face.”
It takes you a moment to work up the nerve but you manage to sit up, your eyes glued to the collar of his shirt.
“Look at me.”
Again, you do as you’re told. Gojo’s glasses are still low enough that he can peek over the top of them, his brilliant eyes drinking in the sight of you. Without thinking, you reach out to push them up the bridge of his nose, your fingertips skimming over his cheekbones.
You shift on his lap, dropping your hands to your sides. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Wow, you really are dumb sometimes.” Gojo says, flicking your forehead affectionately. “If you need it spelled out, no, I’m not uncomfortable. It was cute.”
Wincing, you rub at the spot where his fingers made contact. “Was that really necessary?”
You can’t help the way your breath hitches when he reaches out again, this time gently cupping your cheek to hold your face still. The pad of his thumb traces a little heart over the skin of your forehead. It’s enough to lull you into a sense of security, your body relaxing into his hold. You close your eyes, only to snap them open again as he flicks you for a second time.
“Ow! What the hell, Gojo?”
“Sorry,” he says, grinning unapologetically. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“You’re such a bully.”
You swat his hands away and he laughs, leaning against the back of the sofa and folding his arms behind his head. Your eyes travel over him, stopping just below his hips. “And you’re a liar. That doesn’t look very comfortable to me.”
He follows your gaze to the very obvious bulge in the front of his pants.
“Oh, right, that,” he says, his tone conversational. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. I might die, actually. You wanna help me out?”
“I’ve never done anything like that before.” You can’t seem to look away, your teeth worrying at your lower lip.
“You don’t have to,” he says. “It’s only fun if you’re into it.”
It’s not a question of whether or not you’re into it, more whether or not you’re brave enough to try. You reach out tentatively, glancing up at him for approval before you touch him. He gives you a little nod, catching your hand with his own when he sees the hesitation on your face.
“Do you want me to show you how?”
“Yes please,” you reply shyly.
When he guides your palm to his cock, the first thing you notice is how hard he feels beneath your fingers. It catches you by surprise, which is stupid because it’s literally called a hard on. Still, it’s an unfamiliar sensation, and you let Gojo set the pace.
“Like this,” he says, squeezing your hand just enough to tighten your grip on him. A little noise catches in the back of his throat and without thinking you clench your legs around his thigh again. Your reaction makes him smile.
“You like that, pretty girl? Knowing you’re making me feel good?”
His voice is a little strained, and you take the opportunity to experiment with your strokes, relishing the way his brows knit together when you press down harder.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his fingers digging into your side. “Keep going, just like that.”
He licks his lips, using his leverage to rock you against him again. You feel him twitch beneath you when you moan breathlessly.
“So fucking cute. It was driving me crazy, feeling you grind on me. You know, you said my name too— I thought I was imagining it at first but you said it again.”
Though one-handed, the grip on your hips is brutal as he rolls you against him in a way that makes you see stars. The rhythm of your fingers falters as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a familiar pressure build between your hips. He must feel you start to clench around him again, because he gently nudges your hand away from him.
“Sit back. I want to see you cum.”
He pauses, waiting for you to confirm that’s what you want as well before continuing. His hold on you relaxes, his finger tracing little shapes into the soft skin just below your waistband.
“Like this?” you ask, straightening up.
“A little more.” His voice is tight, though it’s clear he’s making an effort to hide it. You nod, doing as he says, and reach behind you to stabilize yourself.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, drinking in the sight of you. “Now lift your skirt.”
His hand slides so that his palm is flat against the small of your back. You’re slow to let go of his thigh, worried about how you’re going to support yourself, but he shakes his head.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you, pretty girl.”
When he sees you hesitate a moment longer, he guides you so that you’re sitting upright again. “Too much?”
“No, not at all.” You fiddle with the pleats of your skirt. “I was just trying to remember which panties I’m wearing. I don’t know if they’re cute ones.”
That draws a smile from him, though he tries to hide it. “Trust me when I say I will not be focused on your panties.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” he says, and you force yourself to relax, leaning back and letting him support your weight. Your fingers catch at your hem, pulling it up, eyes darting up to his face and searching his expression. You’re not sure what you expect to find there— despite his reassurance, part of you is convinced that he’s not going to like what he sees. The way his pupils dilate would suggest otherwise.
“Fuck,” he groans, reaching out with his free hand. He stops just before his fingers make contact with you. “Can I?”
You nod, whining as he brushes his thumb over the soaked fabric of your panties. Though you’re no longer right on the edge of your orgasm, you can still feel its pressure in your abdomen. Whatever you’d been doing in your sleep must’ve gotten you seriously riled up.
“So sensitive,” Gojo murmurs, tracing around the outline of your clit. His slender index finger hooks around your underwear, pulling it to the side. “And so pretty too. God, you really are wet, aren’t you?”
Your reply is lost as he begins touching you in earnest, his keen eyes taking in all your little reactions and adjusting his motions to match. Soon you’re coming apart at the seams, trying your best to keep yourself quiet and failing miserably. Your increasingly shrill noises seem too loud in the empty common room, but as when Gojo slips a finger inside of you, your mind goes blank and any concerns about the public setting fall away. His thumb works at your clit in quick, tight circles.
“Gojo, I—“ Your hands shoot out, locking around his forearm in your desperation to find something to cling to.
His pace doesn’t falter even as he adds another finger. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Gonna make a mess all over my lap?”
Nodding, you squeeze your eyes shut as the wave inside you finally crests, biting your lip to muffle your cries of his name as you cum. Your orgasm hits you hard, your body clenching down around Gojo in a way that draws a few choice curses from his lips. He works you through your high, filling the room with slick, rhythmic noises that would’ve embarrassed you had your mind not been otherwise occupied. As the pleasure begins to fade Gojo withdraws, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting you. Panting, you let the hand on your back guide you forward until you’re slumped against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you.
“You did so well,” he murmurs, giving you a little squeeze. You feel his lips press against your temple, lingering for a long moment before he pulls away. As you open your mouth to reply, the unmistakable sound of a door slamming cuts through the quiet air. Both of you tense, Gojo’s hands tightening again.
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I guess they’re back early.”
You try to sit up as you had after your nap, but once again his grip is too strong.
“Hey, calm down. I’ve got you.”
“What if they heard us?” you hiss, craning to get a better look down the hallway.
“They didn’t,” he says, and though part of you wants to question this, the authority in his voice calms you. “And before you ask, they won’t see us either.”
There’s a rush of wind and Gojo shifts underneath you, sprawling flat on his back. With a noise of surprise you collapse on top of him, startled by this sudden change in position, and are confused to see that the common room has shifted into the inside of one of the student dorms.
“You warped us?”
“Being the strongest has its perks.”
Laying there in his arms, safe and warm, you realize just how sleepy you are despite having woken up from your nap less than an hour ago. Gojo seems to pick up on this, though you’re not sure how.
“Tired again?” he asks, stroking your hair.
“No, I’m fine.”
Shaking his head, he gives your forehead another flick. This one is much lighter, and he tilts his chin so that he can press his lips to the spot immediately afterwards.
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that? Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up for dinner.”
“But you haven’t even gotten to cum yet. That doesn’t seem fair.”
Pushing back so that you’re straddling him, you roll your hips experimentally and watch with satisfaction as the corner of his mouth twitches. You can still feel how hard he is beneath you, his erection digging into your inner thigh.
“Another time,” he says firmly, speaking more to himself than to you. “For now, just give me a kiss and we’ll call it even.”
A kiss. Somehow that’s what flusters you more than anything else he’s suggested so far. He’s already kissed you a few times, though you’re not sure if those really count since they weren’t on your mouth. Your eyes fall to his lips, studying them for a moment. Like everything else about Gojo, they’re pretty to an unimaginable degree. Leaning forwards, you plant your hands on either side of his shoulders, your palms sinking into the soft fabric of his pillows.
He doesn’t rush you as you close the gap between the two of you. For once there are no games or teasing, and he kisses you sweetly as his hand moves to cup the back of your neck. You can’t meet his eyes when you pull away, instead returning to your default position and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Thanks,” he says with a contented sigh. “That was perfect.”