julie

y'all are sleeping on kento while i'm sleeping with him

[nanamikentoseyebags]

｡⁠*⁠♡ julie's corner ♡*⁠。

🎞️ mrs. Nanami | 20s | she/her | gemini | isfp

🎞️ sideblogs - @savemefromscorpiomen @satoruschapstic

self-ships rules masterlist

ageless & blank blogs will be blocked 🙅🏻‍♀️

[puppyms]

zoe_lixx

[pluvial-lake]

Reader who has a real job and actual bills. Reader who prioritizes her own peace over his feelings. Reader who has hobbies that don’t revolve around a man. Reader who actually has a life outside of him. Reader who says “no” and means it. Reader who isn't easily impressed. Reader who’s petty. Reader who has trust issues. Reader who chooses her girls every single time. Reader who has a body count and isn't ashamed of it. Reader who is exhausted by male fragility. Reader who holds grudges. Reader who’s a mess. Reader who’s mentally ill. Reader who makes mistakes. Reader who’s manipulative. Reader who’s selfish. Reader who’s morally gray. Reader who’s awful. Reader who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck.

[loontattoo]

being vulnerable and admitting I don't understand a reference

[kosmogrl]

we got august this week

[nanamikentoseyebags]

I SAW THAT

NO YOU DIDN'T 🙂‍↔️

[ifacethewinditsoundslikegod]

you are only alowed in my room if u love me

[citrus-infusedd]

I need to say something to you mouth to mouth.

[anniewinniie]

[lorelays]

@nanamikentoseyebags

[scribeherself]

what if we were walking through a botanical garden and it started to drizzle so we ran into a greenhouse and while we were standing there surrounded by ferns and the smell of rain you took my hand and kissed my knuckles?

[nightshiftnotes]

❥ comfortable

♡ summary: after two terrible days, all you want is to use your boyfriend as a mattress. unfortunately for you, gojo satoru is very easily distracted.

♡ warnings: 18+ mdni • explicit sexual content • established relationship • oral (f!receiving) • multiple orgasms • piv sex • praise • possessive language • dirty talk • creampie • fluff

♡ author’s note: this was inspired by a post from @silentlunarkiss based on this fanart 😭 i screenshotted it immediately because i knew i wanted to write it, then somehow lost the original post before i could tag them. finally found them again!! ♡

banner by @pixopix

The apartment is quiet when you finally drag yourself through the door, your work bag feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds. Your feet are killing you, your brain is fried, and all you want is to collapse into bed and not move for approximately twelve hours.

You kick off your shoes and shuffle down the hallway, already pulling your hair out of the bun you'd done up that morning, now mostly falling out on its own. The bedroom door is cracked open, and when you push it wider, you find exactly what you were hoping for.

Satoru is sprawled across the bed like a starfish, still wearing his teaching clothes—black pants and a rumpled button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His blindfold is tossed carelessly on the nightstand, and his white hair is an absolute disaster, sticking up in every direction like he's been running his hands through it all day. His eyes are closed, one arm thrown over his face.

He looks as exhausted as you feel.

"Rough day?" you ask, and he groans without moving.

"The first years tried to fight a curse three grades above their level because Yuji said it 'looked easy,'" he mumbles into his arm. "I had to bail them out. Again. Then Megumi and Nobara got into an argument about mission protocol that somehow turned into a full-blown screaming match about who ate whose leftovers from the fridge. I had to separate them like they were toddlers."

Despite your exhaustion, you snort. "Sounds about right."

"And then," he continues, finally moving his arm to peek at you with one brilliant blue eye, "Yaga cornered me about paperwork I was supposed to file last week. Do you know how much I hate paperwork?"

"I'm aware." You're already moving toward the bed, unbuttoning your work pants. "You complain about it literally every time."

"Because it's the worst. I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. I shouldn't have to file incident reports."

"Mm-hmm, very tragic." You shimmy out of your pants and leave them in a heap on the floor—a problem for future you. Your blouse follows, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. "My day was also shit, for the record."

"Yeah?" He's watching you now with lazy interest, too tired to even sit up but still tracking your movements.

"My boss is an idiot, the coffee machine broke, I had to sit through a two-hour meeting that could've been an email, and Janet from accounting passive-aggressively cc'd the entire department on an email about someone stealing her lunch. Which, for the record, I didn't do, but she definitely thinks I did based on the way she was glaring at me."

"Want me to hollow purple Janet from accounting?" he offers, completely serious.

"Tempting, but no." You crawl onto the bed and without ceremony, flop directly on top of him, your full weight pressing him into the mattress. You bury your face in his chest with a long, dramatic groan. "I'm dead. This is me, dead."

"Hi, dead. I'm also dead." His arms come around you automatically, wrapping you up even though you're both too tired to really move. "We're both corpses now. This is our life."

"Our death," you correct, muffled against his shirt.

"Our death," he agrees solemnly.

For a moment, you just lie there, breathing in sync. He smells like his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the training grounds—sweat and grass and something distinctly him. It's comforting in a way you can't quite articulate. This exhausted, collapsed-together moment feels like home.

His hand starts moving on your back, slow and gentle, rubbing up and down your spine. It feels incredible, and you make an embarrassing sound of contentment that you'll deny later.

"You're tense as hell," he murmurs, fingers working at a knot between your shoulder blades.

"You try dealing with Janet's accusatory emails and see how relaxed you are," you mumble, but you're already melting into his touch.

"I'd just block her."

"You can't block coworkers, Satoru."

"You can if you're powerful enough." His hand slides lower, still rubbing your back, and you feel some of the day's tension starting to ease. "This okay?"

"It's perfect. You're my favorite human pillow."

"Just human pillow? Not devastatingly handsome boyfriend who you're lucky to have?"

"That's implied," you say, but you're smiling against his chest.

His other hand joins the first, both of them working at your tired muscles, and you honest-to-god almost start purring. This is exactly what you needed. Just this—him, the quiet apartment, his hands on you, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

But then his hands start to wander.

It's subtle at first. His fingers drift from your back to your sides, tracing the curve of your waist. Then lower, skimming over your hips. And then—

He grabs your ass. Both hands, full handfuls, squeezing appreciatively.

"Really?" you ask, lifting your head to look at him. "We're both dead, remember? Corpses don't grope."

"I'm a very motivated corpse." He squeezes again, shameless, and there's a grin tugging at his lips now. "Can't help it. You're lying on top of me in your underwear. What did you expect?"

"Self-control? Restraint? Basic human decency?"

"Baby, you know me better than that." His hands are still kneading your ass, and despite your sass, you can feel heat starting to pool low in your belly. "Besides, you love it."

"I love that you can't even wait until we've recovered from our respective terrible days before getting handsy?"

"Exactly." He's fully grinning now, that cocky, insufferable grin that makes you want to kiss him and smack him at the same time. "Your ass is the best stress relief. It's science."

"That's not science, you idiot."

"It's my science."

You snort, but you're not moving away. His hands are warm and familiar, and honestly, after the day you've had, this isn't the worst thing in the world. You let your head drop back to his chest, eyes drifting closed.

"Comfortable?" he asks, voice softer now.

"Mmm," you hum in agreement. "Don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it."

For a while, it's just quiet. His hands keep moving—sometimes squeezing, sometimes just resting there, thumbs drawing lazy circles. You can hear his heartbeat under your ear, steady and strong. The tension in your shoulders is almost completely gone now, replaced by a different kind of warmth, something slower and heavier.

You're half-asleep when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness pressing against your hip.

"Satoru," you mumble, not even opening your eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Are you seriously getting hard right now?"

There's a pause. Then he says, "...Maybe."

You lift your head to look at him, one eyebrow raised. He has the decency to look slightly sheepish, but there's heat in his eyes now, that familiar hunger that never really goes away when it comes to you.

"We were having a nice moment."

"We still are."

"You've got a boner."

"I do…That doesn't cancel the nice moment."

You stare at him for another second before letting out a laugh.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"I come home exhausted, use you as a human mattress for ten minutes, and somehow I'm the problem?"

"You are absolutely the problem."

"I literally haven't done anything."

"You climbed on top of me, got all comfy, made that little happy humming noise, and then fell asleep on my chest."

"I hummed?"

"You hummed."

"I don't hum."

"You do when you're really comfortable."

You narrow your eyes. "I've never noticed that."

"I have."

You glare at him.

"…Baby." He exhales dramatically, like he's carrying the weight of the world. "You're makin' me so hard."

You snort. "You're unbelievable."

"I'm trying to be respectful."

"Are you?"

Silence.

"…No." He grins without an ounce of shame. "Not really."

Despite yourself, you laugh again, dropping your forehead back against his shoulder.

"You're ridiculous."

"I know."

His arms tighten around you just a little. "But you look so comfortable."

His voice is quieter now. "So happy."

You burrow your face further into his shoulder.

"…I like when you're like this."

You feel yourself smile before you can stop it. "You're such a sap."

"Only for you."

There's a comfortable silence. Then his hands drift just a little bit lower again.

"…Okay," you mumble. "Now you're definitely not being respectful."

"No." He gives your ass another shameless squeeze. "I'm definitely not."

Before you can respond, he's sitting up, keeping you in his lap, and capturing your mouth in a kiss that's hungry and demanding. You can taste his desperation, feel it in the way his hands grip you like he's afraid you're going to disappear.

When he pulls back, his lips are already swollen, his eyes are dark with want. "I need to taste you," he says, and it's not a request. "Get up here."

"Up where—"

But he's already moving, sliding down the bed and pulling you with him. "On my face. Come on."

"Satoru—"

"Please." And there it is, that needy edge that makes your stomach flip. "I've been thinking about this all day. About you sitting on my face, riding my tongue until you come. Please, baby. I need it."

How are you supposed to say no to that?

"You're ridiculous," you say, but you're already moving, letting him position you. He's lying flat on his back now, looking up at you with such raw want that it makes you shiver.

"Not ridiculous. Desperate." His hands come up to grip your thighs, pulling you forward. "Now stop stalling and sit on my face."

"Bossy," you mutter, but you're lowering yourself down, and then—

"Oh fuck," you gasp as his tongue makes contact, sliding through your folds in one long, deliberate stroke.

He groans under you, the vibration going straight to your core, and his hands tighten on your thighs. "That's it," he mumbles against you. "Right there. Don't move."

But you're already moving, you can't help it, grinding down against his mouth as he licks and sucks and devours you like a man starving. His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, holding you exactly where he wants you, and when you try to lift up, worried about suffocating him, about being too much—he just pulls you back down harder.

"Satoru—"

"Stay," he demands, voice muffled. He pulls his face back to look up at you. "Fuck my face. Come on, baby, I can take it. Give it to me." Then he lowers his mouth to you again.

It's obscene, the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the way he's completely lost in it. His tongue circles your clit, then dips inside you, then back to your clit, and you're already shaking, already so close.

"That's it," he encourages, and you can hear the smugness in his voice even now. "You're dripping, baby. such a mess on my face."

"Shut—up," you gasp, but there's no heat in it because he's right—you can feel how wet you are, can feel it on his chin, his lips, and it should be embarrassing but it's just hot.

"Make me," he challenges, and then he's sucking your clit into his mouth, hard, and you cry out.

Your hands fly to the headboard, gripping the edge to steady yourself as the pleasure intensifies. You start to really move now, riding his face with purpose, and he moans underneath you like this is exactly what he wanted all along.

"Fuck, yes," he groans against you, the vibration making you gasp. "Just like that. Use me, baby. Take what you need."

His hands guide your hips, encouraging the rhythm, and his tongue is relentless—circling, flicking, pressing flat against you in a way that makes your thighs shake. You can feel yourself getting closer, that coil of heat tightening in your belly.

"Satoru, I'm—fuck—"

"Do it," he demands, voice rough. "Come on my face.”

His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, and that's all it takes. Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, pleasure rolling through your entire body. You're grinding down against his mouth, riding it out, and he's groaning underneath you like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him.

When you finally come down, shaking and oversensitive, you try to move off him, but his hands tighten on your thighs.

"Not yet," he mumbles, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, your hip bones, anywhere he can reach. "Just—give me a second. You taste so fucking good."

"You're gonna kill me," you pant, but you're smiling.

But he's already diving back in, and you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again. Your whole body jolts at the sensitivity, but he doesn't let up—he's relentless, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he works you over. The pleasure is almost too much, bordering on overwhelming, and you're already moaning his name.

"Satoru—fuck—it's too much—"

"I know, baby," he groans against you, the vibration sending another wave through you. "But you can take it."

He's eating you out like he's starving, like he can't get enough, and your whole body is shaking. Your hands grip the headboard tighter, your hips moving against his mouth almost involuntarily. The pleasure is building again, impossibly fast, and you're gasping and moaning as he works you toward another orgasm.

"Oh god—Satoru—I'm gonna—"

"That's it," he encourages, his tongue flicking faster. 

Your second orgasm hits you like a wave, even more intense than the first, and you're crying out as pleasure crashes through you. Your thighs are shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up, and he's groaning underneath you, clearly getting off on how much he's affecting you.

When you finally collapse, completely spent and oversensitive, he finally releases you, and you fall onto the bed next to him, breathing hard and trembling.

"And I'm dramatic?" He's grinning like he just won the lottery, his face wet, his hair a complete disaster. "That was—fuck. I love you, baby."

"You're insane," you say, but you're pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"About you? Absolutely." His hands are already roaming again, cupping your face, then sliding down your sides. "But I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh really?"

"Really." He's kissing you again, slower this time, deeper. When he pulls back, there's something vulnerable in his expression beneath all the confidence. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Then show me," you challenge, and his eyes darken.

"Oh, baby."

He's fumbling with his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers, and his cock springs free—flushed and hard and already leaking. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length, and he hisses.

"Fuck, baby—"

"What?" You stroke him slowly, base to tip, and he's already trembling.

"Your hands—shit—they're so much smaller than mine. Look so good wrapped around my cock."

"Yeah?" you tease, giving him another slow stroke.

"Yeah." His voice is strained. 

He gently removes your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, and then he's pulling you against him. His arms wrap around you, one hand sliding up your back, the other gripping your hip possessively. You can feel him, hard and hot against your thigh, and he's just... holding you there.

"Satoru—"

"Give me a second," he murmurs, his voice already rough. His breathing is uneven against your neck, and you can feel the tension in his body—the way he's trying to maintain control. "Just—fuck—you feel so good.”

His hips shift slightly, and you feel the length of him drag against you—not entering, just the pressure of him sliding through your wetness. The friction makes you gasp, and he groans.

"There it is," he breathes. "That sound. The little gasp you make when I—" He does it again, a slow roll of his hips, grinding against you. "When I touch you just right."

"Satoru, please—"

"Please what?" His hand slides down to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"You know what I want."

"I do." Another slow grind, and you can feel how wet you are, how easily he slides against you. "But I wanna hear you say it. Love the way your voice gets all breathy when you're desperate for me."

"You're killing me—"

"Good." He's kissing your neck now, teeth grazing your pulse point. "You've been killing me all day. All week. Every time you look at me with those eyes, every time you smile at me like I'm the only person in the world—fuck, baby, you have no idea."

His voice is shaking now, and you realize he's not teasing anymore—he's barely holding on. The head of his cock catches at your entrance, and you both freeze.

"I can't—" His forehead drops to your shoulder. "I can't think straight around you. Can't control myself. You just—you exist, and I'm gone."

"Then stop trying to control it," you whisper, and you feel him shudder.

"Fuck." He shifts, lining himself up properly, and then he's pushing in—slowly, so slowly. The stretch is intense, pleasure edged with the sweetest hint of pressure as he fills you inch by inch. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight. So perfect."

"Satoru—"

"I know. I've got you." He's only halfway in, taking his time, letting you adjust. His forehead is still pressed to your shoulder, and you can feel how much restraint this is taking him—the way his muscles are tense, the way his breath comes in short gasps. "You're taking me so well. You always take me so well."

Finally, finally, he's fully seated inside you, and you both just breathe for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of being completely connected.

"Okay?" he asks, lifting his head to look at you.

"Yes baby," you manage. "You can move.”

"Thank fuck." He pulls out slowly, almost all the way, and then thrusts back in. The drag of his cock against your walls makes you gasp, and he groans. "That sound. Fuck, I love that sound."

He sets a steady rhythm, deep and deliberate, each thrust making you feel impossibly full. His hands are everywhere—cupping your face, tangling in your hair, gripping your hips—like he can't decide where he wants to touch you most.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, watching your face. "All flushed and breathless. The way your eyes get all hazy when I'm inside you—fuck, it drives me crazy."

"Satoru—"

"I love you so much." His voice is rough with emotion now, not just desire. "Love everything about you. The way you feel, the way you look at me, the way you let me have you like this—"

"I love you too," you gasp, and his hips stutter.

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and when he opens them again, there's something raw there.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Fuck." His pace falters, becomes less controlled. "You can't—you can't just say it like that when I'm inside you. You're gonna—shit—"

"You feel so good," you tell him, cupping his face. "So perfect. You always make me feel so good."

His breath catches, and suddenly he's kissing you desperately, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, less measured.

"You're everything," he gasps against your mouth. "Everything to me. The way you trust me, the way you look at me like I'm—fuck, baby, I can't—"

"You are," you insist, and his composure cracks completely.

"Fuck—" He's moving faster now, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "Love how you fit around me. Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other."

"We were," you gasp, and his eyes flash with something fierce and possessive.

"Damn right we were." He shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly every thrust is devastating. "There it is. That's the spot, isn't it?"

"Yes—fuck—right there—"

"I know, baby. I know." His voice is breaking now, emotion and desire tangled together. "Gonna make you come again. Wanna watch your face when you—fuck—when you come because of me."

The pleasure is building so quickly you can barely breathe. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, his back, trying to anchor yourself as he drives into you again and again.

"That's it," he encourages, watching your face like he's memorizing it. "I can feel you getting tighter. You're close, aren't you? So fucking close."

"Don't stop—"

"Never." One of his hands slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it. Let me see you."

The combination of his cock hitting that perfect spot and his thumb on your clit is too much. Your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure crashing through you in waves that make your whole body tense and shake. You're clenching around him, and he groans at the sensation.

"Fuck, yes," he breathes, still moving, fucking you through it. "That's it. That's my girl. You're so good. So beautiful. Fuck, I love you so much."

When you finally start to come down, gasping and trembling, you expect him to follow you over the edge. But instead, he slows his movements, pressing soft kisses to your face.

"Satoru—"

"Not done with you yet," he murmurs against your lips.

Before you can respond, he's pulling out and lifting your legs, draping them over his shoulders. The new position opens you up completely, and when he pushes back in, he's somehow even deeper than before.

"Oh fuck—" you gasp, and he groans.

"There we go." He starts moving again, and this angle is devastating. Every thrust feels impossibly deep, hitting places that make your toes curl. "How's that, baby? That good?"

"Yes—fuck—Satoru—"

"I love you so much," he says, his voice rough. "You know that? I'm never letting you go. You're mine. Always gonna be mine."

"Yours," you agree breathlessly, and something in his expression goes even more intense.

"That's right." His thrusts are harder now, more purposeful. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna love you for the rest of my life."

His hand moves to your stomach, pressing down, and suddenly his eyes go wide. He can feel himself inside you, the bulge of his cock with each thrust, and something feral takes over his expression.

"Holy shit," he breathes, completely mesmerized. His hand traces the outline, feeling himself move in and out of you, and he starts fucking you even harder, unable to look away. "Look at that. Look at you taking me so deep."

You're already building toward another orgasm, the intensity of this angle and his words and the way he's looking at you like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen—it's all too much.

He's transfixed, watching his cock disappear inside you again and again, feeling the movement under his palm. His breathing is ragged, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Can you feel that, baby?" he asks breathlessly, his voice completely wrecked. "Fuck—I'm so fucking deep—you feel that?"

You look up at him with half-shut glazed eyes, your mouth parted open, completely fucked out. "Yes—fuck—yes, Satoru, I feel it—"

He groans at the sight of you—at how thoroughly wrecked you look, at the way you're falling apart beneath him. "You're so hot. So fucking hot. The way you look right now—fuck—I'm obsessed with you."

He's fucking you harder now, more urgently, his hand still on your stomach feeling himself move inside you with each thrust. The visual seems to drive him wild, and his movements become almost desperate.

"Come for me again," he demands, his other hand finding your oversensitive clit. "I know you can. I know you've got one more in you. Come on, baby. Give it to me."

"Satoru—I can't—it's too much—"

"You can." His thumb presses harder, circling your clit. "You can, baby. I need you to.”

The pleasure is building impossibly fast, almost painful in its intensity. You're so sensitive from your first two orgasms that every thrust, every touch feels magnified.

"That's it," he encourages, watching your face. "I can see it. You're right there. Just let go, baby.”

His voice is breaking, his control completely shattered, and then something raw escapes from him. 

"I want you—" His hips snap forward harder. "Fuck—want all of you.”

His composure finally snaps.

"They've been on my ass my whole life about the bloodline. About heirs. About duty." Another hard thrust, his voice is cracking. "And I never—fuck—never wanted it."

He's breathing hard, almost gasping between words.

"Not until you."

His forehead drops closer to yours, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Only you. Want to marry you—want to wake up to you every day—want to call you my wife and—ah—know you're mine—"

Your orgasm crashes through you even harder, triggered by his words, by the desperation in his voice, by the sight of him completely undone above you. You're clenching around him so tight he gasps, your whole body shaking with the intensity.

"Fuck, yes—" He's just… staring at you, still moving, still feeling himself inside you. "So beautiful—The way your face—the way you sound—fuck—"

The sight of you completely wrecked under him, the feeling of you clenching around him, the way you gasp his name—it pushes him over the edge.

"Ah—fuck—fuck—fuuckk—" He buries himself as deep as he can go and comes hard, spilling into you in hot pulses. His whole body shudders with the intensity of it, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, can feel the warmth spreading.

He collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you but clearly boneless. For a while, you just breathe together, sweaty and satisfied.

"Holy shit," you mumble.

"Yeah." He's pressing kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He can’t seem to stop touching you, his hands running over your skin like he needs the contact. "You're amazing. Incredible. Best girlfriend in the entire world."

"Best girlfriend, or best pussy?" you tease, and he pulls back to look at you with mock offense.

"Both. Definitely both." He's grinning now, that soft, genuine smile that he only gives you. "But mostly you. I love you. Like, so much. An embarrassing amount."

"I love you too, you needy disaster."

"Your needy disaster," he corrects, and he's still touching you, hands running over your skin like he can't bear to stop. "Mine now. No takebacks."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you say softly, and you mean it.

He pulls you closer, tucking you against his chest, and you can hear his heartbeat starting to slow. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back in, but it's different now—satisfied, content, the good kind of tired.

"We should probably shower," you murmur, but you're already half-asleep.

"Later," he mumbles into your hair. "Right now I just wanna hold you."

"Clingy."

"Yep." He doesn't even sound ashamed. "You're stuck with me. Forever. Hope you're ready for that."

"I think I can manage," you say, smiling against his chest.

And as you drift off in his arms, you think that yeah… you can definitely manage. This ridiculous, needy, perfect man is yours, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[mjalti]

nothing is real and then all of a sudden everything is very real with no warning

[shibuyafiles]

don’t bite the equipment. ˚₊‧ ⟡ ˖‧₊

(gojo satoru x gn!reader)

playfighting your bf satoru is like trying to inconvenience a mountain that won't leave your face alone.

genre: fluff

cw: established relationship, power struggle, wrestling teasing, playfulness, domesticity, kissing, biting

wc: ~2k

you had him. you definitely had him—at least, that’s what a normal distribution of weight, physics, and human biomechanics suggested.

“oh no,” satoru drawled, not even moving. “i’m being attacked. whatever shall I do?”

“you can start by losing—”

he was standing up like you weighed absolutely nothing.

your arms locked tighter around his neck from behind, your legs snaking around his waist, all your might thrown into the tackle, but satoru didn’t budge. not an inch. it was like you were trying to wrestle a marble statue that happened to be wearing something way out of most people’s price range. 

“go. down.”

satoru laughed at you, that bright and unfair you-are-so-screwed chuckle slipping right out of him.

no matter. you ignored the sound, holding your ground as you put your back into the motion, digging your heels into his hips, trying anything you could muster to throw him off balance. 

satoru stood up straighter, not an ounce of wobble in him.

one second you were clinging to his back like a koala with a vendetta, the next, you were fully dangling, feet far off the ground, one of his big hands casually gripping the back of your thigh to keep you from slipping.

“form’s good,” he mused, bouncing you once like he was testing a new dumbbell. “little shaky on the follow-through, though. seven out of ten.”

“PUT ME DOWN—”

you thrashed. you squirmed. you tried to hook your ankle around anything to drag him down—feet only meeting the air.

“alright.” satoru lowered you, pressing you into his back, arms enveloping you in what could only be described as a reverse bear hug.

“this was NOT what i meant—”

“no?” he cooed, craning his neck with blindfold still in place, and pressed a loud, obnoxious smooch to your forearm. 

“stop—”

“i’m rewarding the effort.”

“this isn’t—” a kiss on your bicep. “—a participation—” a kiss on your knuckles. “—sport!”

“it can be. you’re cute enough.”

you made a sound of pure, unfiltered rage.

satoru laughed, turning his back towards your couch and releasing you. your body dropped gently—annoyingly gently, bouncing on the cushions with a soft oof.

the furniture dipped once, and his shadow was already over you before you could scramble away, his elbows planting on either side of your head. 

“y’know,” he said, voice dropping into something silky and quiet. “winner gets real kisses.”

your heart did a stupid little backflip.

“you’re not gonna win,” you lied, breathless.

he tilted his head, his lips pulling into that slow, dangerous, i-know-something-you-don’t grin.

“then stop me, baby.”

and you tried.

you bucked your hips in an incredible attempt to flip him, used your thighs to scissor his waist and reverse the position he had pinned you down into. he let you get almost there—let you think you had an opening—and then just shifted his weight with maddeningly little effort. 

satoru’s weight settled on you like an iron anchor, no neutral barrier keeping you at arm's length—just the raw, menacing density of a guy who knew he was completely unshakeable.

your body was giving its heart and soul in an attempt to grapple him; his, on the other hand, had yet to register your attempt as something worth exerting himself over. 

but before he could claim his victory, you did the only logical thing left in your arsenal. your teeth came down on the high collar of his t-shirt.

“ow! hey! unfair conduct! referee!” satoru squawked, flinching just enough for you to yank one hand free.

“no rules in street fighting!” 

satoru grinned, his hand catching your wrist mid-air with scary speed. “oh, so we’re playing dirty now? excellent.”

you could barely process the wicked tilt of his mouth as he adjusted his grip—sliding one arm under your lower back and the other under your knees, scooping you up like a barbell made out of fury, bicep-curling your entire body into the air like a horizontal maraca. no effort, no strain, not even a slight change in his breathing. 

“...three,” he counted, lowering you an inch before pumping you back above eye level. “four... mind-muscle connection...”

“SATORU—”

“not bad,” he mused, holding you at the peak of the curl as if testing your weight distribution. “you’re about... three bags of rice. four if i count the spite,”

“LET GO—”

he didn’t. you were beginning to suspect ‘training to failure’ wasn’t a concept satoru had ever personally encountered—and if asked, you were almost certain he’d define it as 'deciding when he’d had enough.'

satoru kept your entire body suspended mid-air with that single, immovable arm of his while the other pulled his phone out from his pocket.

“...just a sec.”

he flipped it around, his thumb tapping across the screen as he skimmed a notification. you hung suspended in mid-air, watching in horrified fascination as his brow furrowed with a level of concentration he hadn’t bothered to give your entire mass during his tiny, impromptu workout session. 

“ah. spam email.” he slid the phone right back into his pocket, his lifting arm having not so much as trembled the entire time.

you just stared, utterly paralyzed at the cosmic audacity of a man who apparently considered you light enough to multitask around, casually managing his inbox while you were still fighting for your dignity.

satoru leaned back against the top cushion as though he'd merely paused between sets, locking eyes with your stunned expression.

“rule number one of fighting the strongest,” he chirped up, wearing that impossibly pleased and unrepentant grin. “don’t bite the equipment. it voids the warranty.”

“you’re ridiculous—!” you swung a leg over, trying to find leverage, still very much airborne, held aloft by an arm that felt like steel in human form. 

“i don’t know. i kinda like it up here. fine view," he said, pulling his blindfold down past his nose. the striking glow of his eyes locked onto yours, sparkling with unveiled mischief. “can’t chomp on me from all the way up there.”

you glared down at him, but the sheer absurdity of the situation—and the way his t-shirt stretched over his shoulder where your teeth marks probably still were—cracked your composure. a snort escaped you.

“you have a mark on your shoulder.”

that made him pause for a second—barely enough to notice had you not been looking for it.

“yeah?” he tilted his head, his silvery hair falling across his brow. “are you gonna kiss it better?”

“i was thinking more along the lines of biting it again.”

the sigh that left satoru’s body was almost too entertained. he lowered you slowly, almost teasingly, letting your feet brush the floor before he let go entirely. you dropped the last inch, landing on your own two feet, ready to lunge—

and then he was behind you.

you didn’t even see him move as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, chin hooking over your shoulder. his chest barely moved behind you, exasperatingly relaxed despite the fact that you were still actively trying to escape. “missed me?”

“YOU—” you elbowed backward, but he absorbed the impact, tsking as he tightened his grip around your waist and dragging you back until you were flush against his chest.

“illegal move number two: strike to the kidney. that’s a five-minute penalty in the kiss bin.”

“there is no kiss bin!”

“there is now,” satoru hummed, resting his heavy chin right on your shoulder, his nose nuzzling into the side of your neck. “i’m the founder, president, and sole referee. your sportsmanship is atrocious today.”

you huffed, trying to pry his thick arms off your stomach, but it was like trying to unbend rebar. every frustrated tug only made the muscle beneath his shirt tighten beneath your hands. zero traces of any cursed technique—just surprisingly irritating lean muscle.

his heartbeat thudded slowly against your back in an unbothered rhythm, as if manhandling you across his own body didn’t even seem to qualify as light cardio. 

“this isn’t over,” you pointed out, tilting your head back against his shoulder to glare at him.

“you were so brave,” satoru mumbled, his voice softening as he peered down full of affection. his lips met the side of your neck, a peck right over your pulse point. “a true warrior. a feral, teethy one.”

you shivered despite yourself—the traitorous little jolt that always happened when his mouth found the spot. you hoped he had missed it.

“ah,” he breathed against your skin, the word vibrating through you. “found it.”

“found—found what? there’s nothing to find—”

“your off switch.” another kiss, slower this time. “right... here.”

you elbowed him again, weaker this time. “there isn’t an off switch.”

his lips curved into a smile against your neck. “mhm, that’s why you just went all melty.”

“i did not go melty.”

“you went so melty. turned into a puddle of... of...” he paused, clearly searching for the most ridiculous possible comparison. “pudding.”

“that is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

“no, wait.” he reconsidered. “custard. vanilla. crème brûlée if you're feeling fancy. i’m a crème brûlée kind of guy, honestly. the caramel on top?" he sighed dreamily. “chef's kiss.”

apparently that counted as enough justification for another smooch beneath the side of your jaw.

“i’m going to commit a crime.”

“you already did. general assault on a beautiful man.” he squeezed you tighter, almost cuddly now. “i’m just trying to reform you through physical love.”

“you’re not reforming anything—”

“true,” he said cheerfully. “i wanna make it worse. that’s the goal.”

you gave up struggling, slumping back against him with a defeated groan. “i despise you.”

“you love me.”

“hate.”

“love.”

“hate.”

“love love love—” he was peppering kisses along your shoulder now, each one punctuating the word. “—love—you—so—much—”

your resolve was crumbling. you could feel it, like sand slipping through your fingers.

“this doesn’t mean i forfeit,” you managed.

“no, of course not.” he was grinning against your skin—you could feel it. ”you’re still fighting. very formidable. extremely intimidating.”

“i am—”

“especially the part where you went completely boneless the second i kissed your neck.”

“THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN—”

you tried to twist away, but he just laughed and held you tighter, burying his face in your hair.

“your favorite thing is watching me suffer.”

“mm. top three. right behind sugar and my own reflection.”

you shook your head. “unreal.”

“yeah well, tell it to the judge,” satoru teased, easing his grip just enough to spin you around in his arms, ungraciously falling back against your couch with you on his lap. 

you expected him to strike another cocky pose or drop another infuriating one-liner, but as his palms settled loosely on your waist, his expression softened. 

the blindfold was resting around his neck, and those endless light blue eyes were looking down at you with so much fond that it made your chest ache in the best way possible.

”eight out of ten.” he said softly, his thumb tracing a slow, soothing circle against your hip.

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest to keep up the facade. “is the referee issuing a revised statement?”

“mhm. bonus points for the biting,” he purred, looking entirely too satisfied with himself. “still went down, but at least you made it interesting.”

that smug little smirk was your final straw.

you uncrossed your arms, hands snaking upward as you pretended to adjust your posture, before your fingers hooked firmly into the black fabric of the blindfold dangling around his throat in a yank.

satoru’s head pitched forward, but he didn’t even stumble—just let himself be pulled down completely unfazed, those glowing blue eyes blinking at you in mild, amused curiosity.

“i’m trying to choke you into submission,” you informed him, holding the fabric as taut as your knuckles would allow.

“and you’re doing great, sweetface, truly,” he was all smiles, not resisting the pull at all—in fact, the tension on the blindfold was only helping close the remaining space between you, until his lips were barely an inch from yours. “except you forgot one tiny detail.”

“which is?”

“you’re directly in the kiss range.”

satoru closed the final inch.

the kiss wasn’t the victorious, smug-enough- to-power-tokyo-for-three-days-straight standard he usually went for. his lips met yours, lingering just long enough to steal whatever breath you had left. 

he slid up his hands from your waist to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone as he pulled back just an inch, grinning down at your thoroughly dazed expression.

“ten out of ten,” he breathed against your lips, gleaming with pure satisfaction. “ref’s ruling is final.”

tags: @hibiscussmellsgood

[starkissedxav]

gojo makes you forget your umbrella

a/n: hi hi !! gojo fluff because i miss my angel boy !!! i hope u guys enjoy hehe :3 might be ooc hold the tomatoes plz!

every night you tell yourself you won't let satoru keep you up late, and every night you give in when he stares at you with the slightest pout on his glossy lips and pleading, gleaming eyes.

"only five minutes and then i'm going to sleep. I have to be up early tomorrow," you say sternly, biting back a smile when satoru crushes you in his arms, kissing the top of your head repeatedly.

five minutes turns to ten, then thirty, and before you know its already two in the morning. but incessant giggles leave your lips as the two of you talk about anything that comes up, burying your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment when he recalls the time you drunk texted him before the two of you became official.

the next morning goes just as you'd predicted it would. wrestling yourself out of your lovers obnoxiously tight grip on you and whispering harshly about how you were already running late.

"satoru I need to get ready, let go of me!" he only smiles lazily, cracking one eye open as his hair sticks in every direction, finally loosening his grip when you scowl at him.

"okay fine, leave your boyfriend sad and lonely at home," his voice is slightly muffled from his cheek being squished against the pillow. you roll your eyes, smoothing his hair slightly before heading to the restroom.

"my sad and lonely boyfriend needs to get up and go to his job too, the higher ups hate you enough as is, and I think Yaga would appreciate you being only 30 minutes late as opposed to 3 hours" you call from the restroom, satoru scoffs quietly, rolling onto his back and stretching.

satoru gets up, pulling on his sweats as he makes you coffee and a small breakfast, handing it you with a smile when you practically run out the door. "have a good day sweetheart," he mumbles, catching your wrist and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

he sees your umbrella as you walk out the door, but satoru is nothing if not opportunistic. and this was the perfect excuse to show up to bring you home after work.

with a sigh you finally head to exit the building, frowning slightly when you see how hard it was raining. you rummage through your bag, brows furrowed when you come up empty.

"there's no way," you mumble, setting your bag on a bench and quickly searching through it again.

“watcha lookin’ for?” the familiar timbre makes your head whip up, a smile already on your face when you’re met with familiar crystalline eyes peering at you over his sunglasses.

“what are you doing here?” you breathe out, meeting his quick strides as he engulfs you in his arms, expensive cologne filling your senses as he kisses the top of your head.

“someone was in such a rush they forgot their umbrella. I can't risk my pretty girl getting wet, that’s an indoor activity,” he snickers, you smack him upside the head, his smile only widens.

satoru smiles when you lean into his side, fingers intwining with his. you stop before you can exit the building into the pouring rain. you turn to face your lover, looking at his empty hand and then back up at him, snowy bangs barely covering his furrowed brows.

“everything okay sweets?”

“satoru, where’s the umbrella?” your blank expression makes him giggle, leaning down and placing the a gentle kiss to your lips.

“my silly girl,” he mumbles, another chaste kiss to your cheek before standing up straight and tugging you out the front door.

“satoru!” you shriek, fully expecting to be drenched from the torrential downpour, only for the fat raindrops to never hit you. instead, they slide off an invisible force inches away from your skin. your eyes widen and mouth falls open as you turn to your lover.

“guess you forget who you’re with, huh?” the cocky smirk on his face makes you roll your eyes.

"you're so annoying," you smile, satoru chuckles, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you bridal style to you car.

"you're so deeply in love with me," he grins, loving the way your heart rate spikes and your cheeks grow warmer.

when the two of you get home, you pretend not to see him throwing you umbrella in the trash, a small smile on his face as he rejoins you on the couch.

"the forecast says its gonna rain the rest of the week, how about I pick you up after work?" satoru's eyes sparkle as he awaits your response, you bite back your laughter.

"what if you're off on a mission or doing something important?" you reply, knowing there was no way out of this. satoru rolls his eyes, letting his head land in your lap. your fingers immediately find their way into his hair.

"sweetheart," his voice drops an octave lower, you can't help but grin at the sound of it.

"guess ill be waiting for my knight in shining armor after work this week," you hum, satoru smiles, taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"always."

masterlist

ps: i wasn’t sure if to add my taglist since this isn’t lads content gulp but if you guys think i should add taglist to non lads writing pls lmk !! i need opinions

[akashicrecord]

Commenting "may this type of love never find me" under your high school classmates engagement photos

[nanamikentoseyebags]

IS THAT A JULIE ON DASH?!?! HELLOOOO 🍞 💛💛💛

AMIRA HIIIII!!💛💛💛 IVE MISSED YOU BUNCHES!!

[nanamikentoseyebags]

HI JULIE OH MY GOD IVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

JESS😭😭😭😭😭 I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU MOVED BLOGS😭😭 IVE MISSED YOU MORE!!!! HOW'VE YOU BEEN??