st8rtoru

[st8rtoru]

hehe wanna be moots?

yesyesyes i'd love to !! <3

[st8rtoru]

UNO, BABY.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . gojo x reader <3 fluff fluff fluff !! it’s my first time writing! please show lots of love >.< sooo i’m not so great at tags lol. they're so sweet. lots of giggles! banter? reader calls satoru a nerd! bc i absolutely love love love nerdjo! jjk fandom is awesome for that x also got a little lazy towards the end. aesthetics and like a lil nudity from readers side! wine drinking! playing uno! (forgive me if my uno rules don't align, my friends and i are just cheaters through and through lol... + it's uno, make your own rules!) lots and lots of kisses! sooo touchy. use of the word “baby” (alot) stripping (no smut tho!!) he just loves her naked lol. domestic shit! satoru my pretty pretty boy :( just good vibes!! <3 & i also listened to “lied to” by zayn while writing this (few toooo many times lol) so you could too /for the vibes ig?/ ty mwah!

It’s gone just a little after 11 p.m on a Friday.

Your living room is bathed in the warm serene glow of fairy lights strung above the walls and shelves, soft and golden against the navy of the night outside. Satorus playlist humming quietly through the Bluetooth speaker. Steady, dreamy, perfect background noise for wine and the mischief sparking between the two of you.

Satorus legs are stretched out on the carpet, back against the couch, his (your) hello kitty mismatched socks half falling off his feet. You’re sitting across him, cross-legged, curled up in a hoodie he definitely wore yesterday, the sleeves too long on you, as your cards sit between your fingers.

He’s already down to two.

You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of your glass of wine, “You’re cheating.”

“I’m not cheating,” Satoru says, laughing, eyes twinkling prettily behind his glasses. His cheeks flushed, pink and dewy, both from the wine (most of it downed by him), and from how shamelessly he’s been flirting with you all night. “You’re just losing, baby.”

He reaches for a fry from the open takeout sitting on the coffee table. Eats it slow, smirking, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Stupid pretty boy.

You throw a red eight onto the pile with much more aggression than needed. “You're just an asshole.”

He gasps, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “You wound me, baby.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” You say with a shrug, holding in a little smile.

“That a threat?” he murmurs, tossing a yellow skip card, following it with a yellow five. Smirking as he does so, “Because I love when you talk dirty.”

You roll your eyes, then groan, flopping back onto the floor, legs stretched beside his. “You’re the worst Uno partner, you know that?”

He shifts forward, wine glass half-tipped in one hand, the other brushing against your right ankle as he whispers, “Hm.. But I am your favorite person.”

You shoot him a glare from your position,  that fails completely because you’re smiling way too much. “Who lied to you?”

“Tragic,” he says, his hand gently trailing up your shin. “You’re stuck with me for the night.” He shrugs.

You sit up once again, smiling at him through lowered lashes, sipping your wine slowly, smug. “Oh, I’m not stuck. I just happen to enjoy watching you lose, baby.”

Baby. Fucking tease, he thinks.

Satoru chuckles, head thrown back, white fluffy hair bouncing as his laugh fills the room. So boyish, so sweet.

“You’re so full of it. You’ve had, like, seven cards for the past five rounds!”

You shrug, sipping again, “And you’ve had a boner for the past three.”

He chokes on his drink, pausing, spluttering, and immediately blushes like you caught him red handed... which, you kinda did.

“Me? Having a boner?,” he says, voice high. Defending. “First of all—”

You lean forward, cutting him off, tossing a +2 on the very messy pile. “Drink up, nerd.”

“You’re unbelievable.” But he drinks regardless and picks up two cards with a dramatic sigh, face still flushed, but grinning like he couldn’t be happier.

A pretty boy is Gojo Satoru.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ  . 

You've moved to the couch now, ass hurting way too much, as you sit side by side, your legs thrown over his, the Uno cards in a messy heap on the coffee table, long forgotten. His hand rests casually on your thigh, thumb brushing absent minded little circles over your leg.

You’re both much more loose now, giggling at stupid memes he’s showing you, the takeout containers pushed aside.

...

“Okay,” he says, glancing at you with a smile so fond it makes your chest ache. “We need stakes.”

“Stakes? For Uno?” You raise a brow, smile painting your face, “What are you, twelve?”

He pokes at your side. “Don’t disrespect the game!”

You giggle, swatting his hand away, but he only catches it in his soft ones, intertwining your fingers.

“Fine. Stakes. Like what?”

His voice drops a little. Soft, mischievous, boyish as he speaks, “Loser has to tell the other a secret.”

You tilt your head, intrigued. “A secret? Any kind?”

“Any kind,” he says, nodding, gaze lingering on your lips now, softly chewing against his bottom one, “Or… a dare.”

You hum thoughtfully, looking up at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his face, pretending to consider, even as his fingers start tracing shapes on your inner thigh, barely under the hem of your (his) oversized hoodie. “That’s dangerous, you know?”

He leans in, wine-sweet breath ghosting against your lips, “That’s the point.”

Oh it’s on.

You’re back on the floor, cards in hand, both of you leaning way too close. The mood has shifted. Still so serene, still so playful, but there’s an edge to it now.

His knee brushes yours every few seconds. His glances longer. Tongue pushing against his cheek. Hungrier. He keeps licking his lips like he knows exactly how much it affects you.

You’re losing. Badly. Very badly.

You’re down to five cards when he slaps his last one down, a smug little yellow three. Fuck.

Mouth agape, you scoff. Unfuckingbelievable.

And Satoru? He sits back against the couch, arms crossed, watching your reaction with a stupid smirk. Quiet. Says nothing. Not yet.

You slide the pillow that you had been keeping warm from under you and throw it at him.

He catches it easily, laughing uncontrollably, as he collapses back on the rug. “Secret or dare?” he giggles.

You groan and bury your face in your cards. “I hate you.”

“Don’t hate the player baby, hate the game,” he says, breathless. “Now spill.”

You peek at him over the cards, as he lays there, still catching his breath, shirt slightly ridden up, the v of his hips peeking out over his sweats. Life’s unfair. He’s unfair. Gojo Satoru is SO unfair!

“Fine,” you sigh, pouting.

“Dare.”

He props himself up on his elbow, absolutely invested, smirking. “M’kay... Strip.”

You look up at him, eyes wide.

“Strip?!”

“Yeah. Strip, baby. You said dare.” He says, giggling. (Stupid lovely boy!)

“You're full off shit Toru!”

So so giggly is Gojo Satoru as he says, “I love you too.”

“Come on! You're the one who said I have boner... which... I do... So come on, angel, might as well just give me what I want.” He shrugs annoyingly.

You stare him down, then scoff out a smile. So pretty, he thinks. His pretty girl.

You roll your eyes, and slowly begin lifting the material.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ  .

You're both on the couch again. You in just your underwear. Black and lacy. Pretty. Finding home as you’re straddling his lap, a now less messy pile of cards perched atop his chest. The lights twinkle behind you, casting soft gentle shadows over the room. Over him. Satoru is warm beneath you, buzzed and flushed and happy. One hand resting on your hip, playing with the hem of the black material, the other holding his very few cards. Lips still pink and swollen from kissing you much earlier.

“You’re the worst,” you murmur, pouting, as you look down at your cards.

He looks at you. Quietly, tenderly. Then he slowly sits up a little, leans in, face close to yours now as he hums, "Am I?” His nose gently brushing against yours.

You nod.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers against your lips, nose nudging so delicately, the hand resting on your hip pressing comfortably. He's so comfortable.

You lean into the kiss. Gentle, mellow, hushed. Kissing Satoru because you want to. Because you can. Because he's yours to kiss.

You pull away slightly, resting your forehead against his, smiling. Then-

Smack!

“Satoru you fucker!”

He laughs as he falls back to his position into the couch, holding both your wrists.

“Okay okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, baby!”

“You fucking cheater! Can't believe you kissed me to get a peek at my cards!” You say whining, as you attempt to get your hands free.

He lets go, and immediately pulls you down into him, hugging you close. Warm. But still so stupidly annoying.

You feel him shift beneath you as he grins, hands sliding into your hair, brushing strands behind your ear, “That was mean. I'm really sorry.”

Your chin rests on his chest, looking up at him. The position a little awkward, but he's so cute like this. So ridiculously endearing. How could you ever stay mad at him?

You try holding back a smile, as you bury your face against his neck. You hum, “So mean.”

He kisses the side of your head, rubbing gently up and down your back, his left hand playing with your fingers.

...

“I had fun,” he says quietly.

You giggle against his chest, voice muffled, “Well of course you did. You weren't the one losing and stripping, Toru.”

You feel him smile against your hair, “Point. But, It’s romance, baby. Romance.”

“To hell with your romance,” You say giggling, as you sit up, fingers brushing his hair back, kissing his cheek.

He looks up at you, star-struck and admiring. “My pretty pretty baby,” he says quietly.

You flush, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You.”

He pulls the blanket over you both, finding home in eachother, as you slowly drift off. Warm, serene, happy. Just buzzing wine, glittery fairy lights, you, and Satoru. Uno long forgotten, and a memory made so beautifully.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

fin ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ thank you for reading! i hope you liked it <33