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As Goro sinks his teeth into your neck, he wonders how long it would have taken for you to bleed out.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you whisper into his ear as if he’s a spooked horse. Like biting an apple, Goro relishes the taste of the sweat stuck to your skin, the breathy gasp he forces from you.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He snarls as he digs his fingernails into your waist. The words come out sharp, his tongue firing like a silver bullet.
He’s aware of his entire weight crushing you against the safe room wall, and he tosses all fucks out the window. You can’t die, can’t leave if he’s caught you here.
Goro feels you pull away, and he doesn’t like that, so he tugs you back into a kiss that is just as bruising as it is desperate affection. He kisses you as if you are slipping through his fingers. You meet him back with the same ferocity, like if you don’t, Mementos will crack open and you’ll drop dead to the depths.
You’re trying to tell him something; Goro can’t hear properly, can’t think properly, but he can tell by the way your mouth moves against his that you’re trying to get his attention.
When Goro does release you, there’s a line of spit that connects the two of your lips. Normally, he’d find it disgusting. Right now, he finds the proof that you’re still here unbearably erotic. You wipe the saliva off, and his eyes linger on your lips, pink and wet and his.
“I was thinking that I better tank that hit to get us out of that fight, that it would be useful-”
“Well, you’re not much use to anyone if you’re dead.”
He looks at you and sees the flash of hurt in your eyes. He hates himself for it already.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m not scared,” Goro hisses like a cornered animal.
You tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear, and Goro’s overwhelmed by the tenderness of it all, how soft your gaze is as you do it again, makes him feel like a dissolved lovesick fool.
“I’ll be more careful next time, okay? I promise.”
There’s something so juvenile about promises, and Goro doesn’t know when you made him start feeling like a kid again. He huffs out of his nose, hot and furious with emotion, unsure what to do with himself, so he intertwines his fingers with yours and pins your wrists up to the wall. He runs his tongue up your collarbone, your neck, until he finds satisfaction at pressing swarms of kisses along your jaw.
When you moan, something snaps in him. It feels like breaking a chain.
“Don’t leave,” he groans, hearing how depraved he sounds, and can’t bring himself to care anymore. The detective lifts a leg of yours to wrap it snugly around his waist. He grinds his clothed cock against your warm cunt, a calculated movement despite how much of a mess he is. Your thighs buckle, your breath hitches, and Goro feels like he’s finally won a prize worth striving for.
“I won’t.”
“Say it again.”
“I won’t leave.”
“Say you want me.”
“I need you,” you whine. Your breath tickles his ear, somehow light and heavy. Goro feels his moan reverberate throughout his body. His erection has become impossible to ignore; it strains against his trousers as if fighting for freedom, fighting to fuck you right in one of the many safe rooms of Sae’s palace.
There’s a sudden light in your eyes. You remembered something.
“The Phantom Thieves,” you pant, “they’ll come back.”
“They won’t,” Goro spits. You look at him but don’t argue; you know he’s right. The thieves have never seen him so rattled, so much on the verge of letting his mask slip. They’re as easy to spook as mice, cowardly when met with the tip of his rage. “I’ll kill them if they do.”
You smile, radiant and bright like the sun, and it warms him like a fireplace in the thick of winter. “And ruin your plan so early?”
He grins; it’s the type of smirk he only reserves for shadows at his mercy and for you. Goro’s got a quip on his tongue ready to fire, but it short-circuits when your wrists escape him and your nimble fingers find the way to the back of his head. Then, his hair. Your mouth connects with his, lips soft and sweet against his.
He doesn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t for you to tangle and pull at his locks.
Goro splits at the seams, wanton moans unraveling from his mouth, his body falling to his knees as if in prayer. He kisses furiously just above your belt, moving his fingers like he’s untying a knot to pull the leather piece down. You gasp above him, sharp like a whistle when it falls to the ground.
“Look at me, darling.”
You comply as if trained, so hazy and lust drunk. He hasn’t even played with your pussy yet. Goro shivers as if frostbitten, hopelessly unable to hide his yearn to fuck you; you're just so goddamn good for him.
“It wouldn’t ruin my plan because they’re not coming back .”
Goro stands up, grabs the flesh on the back of your thigh, places a determined hand on your back, and lifts you into the air, bridal style. He glides across the room, thrilled by your surprised squeak, and places you down on the plush purple pillow of the safe room bench.
“Take this off,” Goro commands as he pulls on your skirt, low and husky. A euphoric sigh leaves him when he sees your thighs tremble like a small earthquake. You give him a look that’s all pout and arousal as you follow his instructions; it triggers him to take off his outfit like a match meeting gasoline.
He tosses the articles of clothing to the side like a grenade, and your skirt follows shortly after. Goro takes in your gaze being glued to his cock, feels the weight of your need and his dick that stands so proud that it flops against his stomach.
He’s about to make a comment but you snap out of your haze, pulling your top off and baring yourself to him, skin smooth like cashmere, fuck. Goro wastes no time planting a firm hand down on the cushion to bear his weight, his mouth latching to your neck, his thumb skirting over perky nipples, stomach, clit.
Your hips jerk as if you’ve been tased, and a whiny moan escapes you that’s just so shameless, filthy. He swallows the sound with his mouth and groans wildly when your tongue slides over his. The only barrier left is your silk panties, and he chuckles through his moan when he feels the flood of your arousal through the thin fabric.
“So sweet,” Goro chastises with no real malice as you gasp and squirm from his ministrations. “So wet, too. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes. For you,” you gasp.
“Full sentences, please.” He knows he’s being greedy, but he can’t help it.
You almost look as if you’re going to protest, mouth twisted from his teases. Goro smothers those thoughts as he straightens up, places your legs on top of his shoulders, and presses his hard cock against your panties. He aims for your clit and he knows he’s found the prize when you toss your head back and moan frantically.
“I’m this wet because of you. Because I’m all yours,” you whine desperately. “Goro, please…”
A victorious growl bubbles in his throat. He pulls your panties down your thighs to see your gorgeous cunt drooling for him, just him. Enthusiastically, Goro presses the head of his eager cock to your aching clit, relishing the squirms and pitiful moans from his lover.
“Come on,” you demand, a little firmer, but the tone is still sweet enough to give him a cavity.
“Patience, patience,” Goro teases as he slaps his tip onto your needy bud, the two of you huffing like dogs. More arousal leaks out of you like a broken faucet, and it’s he who moans louder than you.
“Fuck,” he hisses. He can’t resist. Somewhere between a cackle and a giggle, Goro asks, “You ready for me?” He doesn’t wait for the answer; he already knows. Instead, he opts to push the leaky head of cock into your hot, sticky opening.
Goro watches with childlike wonder when your hands fly to grip the edges of the couch, anchoring yourself for just the bare minimum of him. “Yes, yes, yes,” you chant fast through whispers as if in prayer.
His resolve breaks open like a dam, wet and urgent. Goro slams all the way into you, your eager cunt welcoming him home with a warm hug. A rapturous cry scrapes its way out of your throat, and the detective’s mouth descends like a crow to capture the sound. His fingers, warm and certain, press like iron against the handles of flesh on your waist.
“Goro,” you moan, sultry, dreamlike. The boy shivers, letting his body melt from taut to pudding as he dives his neck and hips downward. Then, he bucks up, the angle’s precision as sharp as a knife. He revels in the way you clench around him, the way your pretty breasts bounce in time to his thrusts.
“Is this what you needed?” The detective asks, his mouth on fire, and it tastes like borderline grief, his tongue swiping at the curve of your neck. His nimble fingers cascade from your delicious curves to your clitoris, puffed and soaked from the evidence of just how badly you need him.
Goro wonders if he’s able to conceal how terribly he needs you, too.
“Yes!” You spasm as if possessed, wicked, sinful, beautiful . Oh, how you spoil Goro’s rotten soul, so starved of intimacy, and you give it up so carelessly. Are you brave, or stupid?
“You look as good as you feel, so pretty,” the boy confesses through gnashed teeth and pornographic groans. You turn bright red. It fills his veins with a feverish want.
“Right there, stay there, here, please,” you cry, voice and cunt aching. Goro recognizes the double meaning.
The boy throws his head back, breathing ragged and frenzied. You’re all he thinks about, more than his job, his plan, Shido, and you’re here and you can’t leave. Every part of his body screams for yours.
Looking down, he sees where he meets you, admiring with a sharp gasp as he witnesses the transparent web of your cum that covers his cock. There’s a certain high that he gets from the metaverse, from tearing his claws into shadow’s flesh, but nothing compares to this.
“I’m not going anywhere,” the detective vows, voice cracking like a whip. Your pussy flutters around his cock at his promise and he groans as if he’s in pain; you’re just too good, too fucking good, and his thoughts are rolling off his tongue before he knows it.
“Oh,” you sigh at the praise, clamping down on him again. Goro’s fingers on your clit changes to just his thumb, pressing and rubbing with critical precision. You jolt upward, your legs collapsing from his shoulders to wrap around his waist. He has less room to work with now, but your embrace is an equal trade.
Your pussy is so loud now, the smacking of flesh booming as loud as his heart, and the safe room sopping with the smell of sex. It’s all too perfect. Goro focuses half of his attention on remembering your sweat, the way it causes your hair to stick to your forehead, the warm breath on his neck.
Maybe, just maybe, how much you love him?
“Goro,” you moan again. He admires the way his given name slips from your lips, how beautifully you say it.
When you intertwine your fingers with his, his climax hits him like a gunshot, powerful and immediately knocking the wind out of him. He tips the line between groaning and crying out your name, his cock bullying his seed into you fully and his thumb lazily tapping your clit.
“Oh, my god, gonna cum too,” you mewl weakly.
Goro responds the only way he can, a deep, “Oh, fuck,” before digging his teeth his teeth into your neck, knowing with a primal satisfaction that there will be a succulent purple left there.
The detective can practically feel your abdomen flex. You coil yourself around him like a snake, squeezing him with your arms and pussy. The deep, needy fluttering of your cunt is so goddamn serene as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your body settles with a whimper, and he collapses his entire weight onto you.
As Goro’s chest meets yours, your hearts beat in tandem like a war drum. Your lips drift aimlessly from his neck, jawline, until he greets you with his tongue slotting into your mouth like a coin.
Softly, you end the kiss. “Baby, my baby,” you coo with the gentleness of a mother into his ear. “You have to pull out now.”
Oh. Right. You make him so stupid.
With tremendous effort, he removes himself from you, watching with bug-eyes and labored breaths as his cum lewdly gurgles and leaks from your pussy onto the couch.
Goro’s overcome with giggles and affection, and he can’t help himself. He drops down and laps at your clit, his cum, and you grin at him like you’ve received a birthday present. It’s a child-like smile that sparks a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.
He pulls away just to put in a finger, pushing his seed farther into you. Proof that you’re his, never going anywhere.
The words “I love you” cannot leave his mouth, his heart chained by his fears and insecurities, all the times he has been rejected, every instance of another bully or foster “parent” calling him Gomi-kun.
But he really, really does love you. It’s the truth. Post coital, Goro prays silently that the evidence is enough.