𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 | gojo satoru x reader

35: "Either You're A Wizard, Or. . ."

IT'S BEEN 3 MONTHS, I'M SO SORRY—
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     You woke up to a pillow being smacked to your face.

     Your head shot up, eyes wide as you looked at Gojo in your disheveled state. "What the fuck?"

      "Not to be that person, but what are you doing?" Gojo narrowed his eyes at you, standing by the side of the bed, pillow still in hand and ready to strike again.

     Your voice strained as you lifted yourself onto your elbows, sliding a hand over your face. "Well. . . I think I might've just entered stage 3 of non-REM--" Cue another hit with the pillow. "Satoru!"

     "Am I crazy or did I imagine what happened two hours ago?" He rested the raised pillow on the top of his head, his eyes trained on you expectantly.

      "Brother, I'm sleeping."

      "In the spare bedroom?"

      "This has been my room since the dawn of the dinosaurs, I don't know what the problem is."

      Gojo gave you a deadpanned look as the pillow dropped from his head. "Okay, need I remind you. . ." He stepped forward. Gently gripping onto your chin and leaning down, he tilted your head up and kissed you softly. Your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed him back, lips moving in perfect sync with his. You'd been fake-dating him for so long that you forgot what actual couples did.

      Pulling away slightly, he whispered against your lips, "I feel like as partners, we should be sleeping in the same bed. Thoughts?"

     "Couldn't wait one night, huh? I was already asleep." You looked up at him, brushing a strand of white hair from his face. "Could've also just gotten in bed while I was sleeping."

      He hummed, leaning down and kissing you again. He smiled against the kiss, and you felt him pull down the comforter. You pulled back a little, mumbling against his lips, "What are you doing--"

     You yelped loudly as he lifted you from the bed, throwing you over his shoulder. You shouted his name as he left the room, carrying you down the hallway. He promptly swung open the door to his bedroom, walking through and closing it behind him without missing a beat.

     He dropped you onto his bed, chuckling at your frazzled expression before climbing in next to you. He flopped his body down, his hair falling onto the black pillowcase. His eyes seemed to twinkle from the light of the lamp behind you, scanning every inch of your face as he bit back a smile. Seeing him like that only caused you to smile. "What?"

     He shook his head slightly, eyes falling from your eyes to your nose and down to your lips. Whispering, he said, "Nothing. It's nice seeing you like this."

     You hummed, bringing the comforter up to your face. "Like what?"

     "In my bed."

     You scoffed at his response, reaching up and whacking his shoulder. He laughed; a nice, joyful, loud one that echoed around the walls of his bedroom. The sound was like music to your ears, and you couldn't stop the smile that slipped onto your lips. "You're stupid."

     "Only for you, baby," he whispered, taking your hand that you used to essentially slap him and bringing it to his lips; kissing the top, then the side, then down your thumb and to the inside of your wrist. You felt goosebumps rise up on your skin, your stomach doing backflips as you whispered, "Satoru. . ."

      You noticed his eyelids flutter, and his breathing shuddered slightly from his nose against your wrist. He breathed out in between kisses, "Fuck you for doing this to me."