celestial5

[celestial5]

12:03 pm  — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo tries to convince his first years that he was able to pull you.

contents. fluff, crack??, whipped!gojo, mentions of having a kid, he is SO in love with his wife it's disgusting, the first years are sick of their teacher

“[name] sensei is a good looking woman, isn’t she?” yuji remarked, nonchalantly propping his feet up on the desk. “you think so too, right gojo sensei?”

a sly smile played on the corners of gojo's lips, eventually blossoming into a wide, dreamy grin. “good eye yuji! she's undeniably the most beautiful woman on this planet.”

megumi, seated at the desk beside yuji, couldn't hide his grimace.

nobara's expression mirrored that of a disgruntled sea urchin. “dream big, you two. she’s way outta both of your leagues.”

“she is, isn’t she?” gojo sighs dreamily, his gaze far away. a dopey grin settles over his face; like a man walking on air. it was deeply unsettling to the first years to see a grown man behave this way.

megumi rolled his eyes and muttered his disapproval, choosing to ignore his sensei, who had casually seated himself backwards on a chair.

gojo propped his chin with both of his palms, leaning closer into the first years students. “do you think i’d stand a chance with a woman like her?”

megumi buried his face in his hands, audibly groaning in response.

“a sensible woman like that and you? fat chance.” nobara deadpanned, squinting disapprovingly at her teacher. her negative comments elicit a grunt from the snow-haired man.

yuji’s eyes flit nervously from kugisaki to gojo. 

“sensei! i think you have a chance with [name] sensei!” yuji tried to reassure his white haired teacher, offering a thumbs-up. gojo responded by affectionately ruffling yuji’s hair.

megumi couldn’t help but speak up. “she’s a married woman, you know,” he mutters to his friend.

yuji’s eyes widened,  “you’re kidding! who do you think got the honor?” 

“but she’s so young!” kugisaki exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. 

their discussion is cut short when the shoji doors of the classroom slide open abruptly.

with hands on your hips, you stood sternly before your first year students and their teacher, an air of authority about you.

satoru couldn't help but gulp; you were indeed captivating when you were upset. it’s not his fault that you look so cute when your eyebrows furrow and you puff up in anger.

“i waited for half an hour in the courtyard to start today’s lesson and yet here i find my students, along with their sensei who should be in kyoto for a meeting.” a wry smile graced your lips, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. the three first years bowed their heads in shame.

yuji thinks this is the first time he’s seen his teacher nervous. a bead of sweat appears on the side of gojo’s face.

“honey!” he quickly stands up and walks towards you. with every step he takes, nobara’s face scrunches up at his disgusting conduct. 

“don’t.” you warned, raising a finger up to keep satoru at an arm’s length. he respected your wishes to some extent, grasping your hand and placing it within the hold of his own. the diamond on your ring finger glistened as satoru toyed with it.

gasps filled the room as yuji and nobara observed the display of affection. just how inappropriate could their sensei get, and why were you allowing it? what would your husband think?

satoru tenderly caressed your hand in his, cradling it as he leaned in closer. “please forgive me; it was an honest mistake.”

“honest mistake my ass. yaga told me that this is the second meeting you’ve skipped out this month,” you stated, peering fiercely into his blindfolded eyes. satoru’s cocky demeanor wavered, replaced by a nervous chuckle.

“the first time was when i took you to naha, remember?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “and if i remember correctly, you enjoyed our night out,” your eyes widened, recalling the romantic trip satoru had organized. 

feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you attempted to pull away, but his grip on your hand tightened.

“forgive me?” his voice softened, lips curving downward, giving him the appearance of a dejected kitten.

a sigh escapes your lips. he was going to be the death of you.

“fine. but this is the last time,” you warned, “and you owe me for covering for you.”

satoru straightened up, nodding fervently. “have i mentioned how much i love you?” wrapping an arm around you, he placed a kiss on the top of your head, despite your futile attempts to stop him.

“this is…” yuji’s jaw dropped.

“so inappropriate! shame on you!” nobara’s chair makes a harsh screech with how fast she leaves it to come to your aid. 

“kugisaki–” you attempted to calm her down, but she clung to your elbow, desperately trying to pry you from satoru’s embrace.

satoru’s hold on you tightened as he wrapped his other arm around your frame, pulling you close. he plops his chin on top of your head and resists nobara’s attempts to free you. like hell he’s letting anybody take his girl, not even his own student.

“crushing on a married woman is one thing, but to openly flirt with her– ” kugisaki struggled. you tilt your head in confusion. 

satoru’s strong arms flexed as he fought to maintain his hold on you. he nuzzled your neck. “’m fine right here,” he inhaled deeply, as if trying to take in as much of you as possible.

“[name] sensei! how can you stand there and let this man disrespect your marriage?!” nobara implored, wide-eyed, disregarding all respect she had for her teacher.  “how will your husband react when he finds how gojo sensei behaves around you?” she looks desperate, and you want to laugh at the sincerity behind her actions. you get it now.

only your idiot husband would pull a stunt like this.

“i hope your husband can fight because i’m willing to fight him to the death for your hand,” satoru mutters from your neck. you take your hand from nobara’s shoulders to shove the six-foot-three giant away.

“you seriously didn’t tell them, satoru?” you ignored his whiney protests as you created distance between the two of you. 

“tell us what?” kugisaki demanded. yuji was on the edge of his seat, nervously watching the unfolding scene, while megumi put his head down in embarrassment.

satoru looks at you with a deep frown on his face. uncertainty clouds your mind as his silence forebodes something. wetting his lips with his tongue, he quickly closed the gap between you, too fast for you to escape. a secure hand rested on your lower waist as your husband dipped you down to deepen the kiss. 

had you not been so absorbed into the kiss, you would have heard the scandalized gasps from your students.

you managed to place a hand on his chest to separate yourselves, “satoru, stop.” his eyes remained fixed on your lips, but he complied.

“yuji, nobara.. satoru and i are–” you hold up your ring finger for display.

“happily married!” your husband finished for you, a triumphant smile on his face. he squeezed you close, throwing up a peace sign. “been madly in love since i met her!” 

“what– no way! you pulled her?!” nobara spluttered, head whipping from satoru to you, unable to wrap her mind around the revelation.

yuji’s jaw is still on the floor, “megumi, you knew about this?!”

the sea urchin looks the other direction, avoiding his friends’ judgemental gazes.

“they… raised me.. sorta..” he mumbles under his breath. your heart melts at his confession. unlike you, the other first years don't take too kindly to his comment, as they start shaking him by the shoulder and starting their own interrogation.

“and we did a good job too! don’t you think we’re ready for our own?” satoru smiles down at you jokingly, his hands snaking around your waist and his hands sneaking onto your stomach. he leaves a couple of soft pats. 

“you’re cuter when you’re quiet, y’know?” you whispered. taking advantage of your students' attention on megumi, you place a single finger on his lips, hoping your husband does not notice the way your face feels like it is on fire. 

he does.

“no need to be shy now,” satoru said, grinning wolfishly, “we’ll continue this at home.”

your face flushes even deeper.

unbeknownst to you, the first years had fallen silent, observing how gojo whispered in your ear, successfully turning you into a flustered mess. perhaps they should give more credit to their sensei.

notes. not proof read (oh no). this was just a random scenario that has been plaguing my mind during halloweekend so i typed it on my phone at a party LOL this is me desperately trying to get out of my writing slump

[celestial5]

I saw Boothill and as a lover of fictional cowboys, I immediately started planning how to save up to pull him. Now, since he's a cyborg, please imagine this for me: making him flustered or doing something unexpected and cute (like kissing his cheek), and his body makes a sound like a revving engine in response.

this is one of the cutest ideas anon your a genius bc I can absolutely see this happening and you would take advantage of it so badly...

the first time you figured this quirk of his out was after a tough battle. you both we're injured and with all the energy you had left you sprited over to him and tackled him into a hug leaving a big kiss on his cheek. normally boothill is cheeky and would call you cute and clingy for this but not this time. he froze up and actually short circuited a bit. small harmless sparks sizzled out of a damaged part of his arm as some of his engines overheated a bit causing the sound. you let out the most shit eating grin because not only was your boothill alive, you find a weakness of his.

as embarrassing as it could be sometimes he doesn't really mind if you pull stunts like that in public and infact he let's his guard truly down when he's around you in hopes to get a cheek kiss from you. it's a win win situation, he gets his affection and you get to see him flustered. when you surprise him pretty much most of the time he freezes up and the familiar engine sound can be heard near his chest, directly were a heart should be. you find this cute and of course you express it, leading to your poor boyfriend to be more flustered. he most likely cannot blush but still to save some dignity he covers his face with his hat to avoid giving you the satisfaction of his growing grin.

be careful about how much you flustered him though because he's a man who fights for justice and sometimes that justice calls for revenge. he's pretty sneaky so there's almost no avoiding being his prey, stealthily feet running towards you and before you know it you're being embraced in a hug as he spins you around and just when you think your free from his grasp he leaves tons of kisses in his wake. and yes this could happen anywhere at anytime because like how you adore his flustered reving he adores you're blushy and shy face.

[celestial5]

《 Spark 》

[Boothill (HSR) x GN! Reader]

Boothill is a leaked char, but no story spoilers. Just his general vibes from the leaked pics I saw.

Very short too lol, I'm trying to get my motivation back for the dr ratio fic

"Ouch, can't ya' be a bit gentle, Spark?"

Your brows furrowed at the remark and nickname. The sound of mechanical parts malfunctioning is heard clearly, all due to the work of your hands.

"For the last time, I'm not a fucking mechanic. You just keep on insisting I fix you up," you scoffed, but still trying your best to somehow fix his arm. "And what does Spark even mean?! I told you I don't know any of your slang."

Boothill laughed, "why don't you ask your family fellas?"

The half cyborg could see the shudder that went down your spine as you attempted to fix his robotic arm. "They'd kill me. Even touching you would make me lose my upcoming projects."

"Ya' wound me, Spark..." Boothill remarked, feigning a wound on his heart, despite him placing his hand on his right chest.

The sentiment made your roll your eyes, going back to the task at hand.

Both of you remained in a blissful silence after, your whole focus on Boothill's arm, not even realizing the pair of grey eyes staring at you under the shadow of his hat.

A small chuckle escaped his lips, 'a sight better than any dreams,' he thought. Shamelessly staring at you, leaning back against the chair and enjoying his view.

Your focused face brought him glee. The way your lips pout as another error came up in your attempt to fix his arm, the brief moment where he could see stars in your eyes, only to be shrouded in dissapointment once more as another failure struck.

He relished in your... everything. The way you agreed to help him despite knowing barely anything about his robotic parts made his heart melt, knowing that you just want to help him.

Just looking at you made him giddy inside, the thought that you're touching his arm can motivate him to fight the entire Bloodhound Family on his own.

He didn't care if he got roughed up in the fight, any losses he might've gotten in any fight is a win if it means he'll be seeing this.

Before he knew it, you noticed his gaze fixed on you. "Your sharp-ass teeth isn't making the staring comforting..."

Hearing that made the latter laugh again, taking off his hat and using it to cover his mouth, but his vision still locked onto you. "This' better, Darlin'?"

The sudden nickname made you stop in your track, Boothill's frustrating smirk hidden behind the hat. With a scoff, you grabbed his hat, throwing it right at his face before standing up from the chair.

"Fix this arm by yourself. I'm heading back to the Golden Hour," you spat out, dropping the tools on the table, walking over to the glowing blue 'pond' that became the entrance to the dreamscape.

"What? A nickname ruffled ya' up?" Boothill teased, seeing you lay down and close your eyes. His words were met with a middle finger coming from you, right before you drifted off to the dreamscape. The furrowed and irritated face turned into a peaceful slumber.

Seeing you asleep, Boothill sighed, wearing the hat back on his head. Mechanical sounds could be heard from his arm, and a few moments later; he stretched the robotic arm, as if nothing was wrong in the first place.

He walked over to you, making sure you were truly sleep.

The cold mettalic hand went to your face, moving away the strands of hair on your face.

He smiled, his sharp teeth showing faintly beneath the smile. "Good dreams, Spark," he murmured softly.

"... one day I'll tell you what it means."

--------------------------------------------

Spark – A lover, a beau.

[celestial5]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: when being a mechanic means performing maintenance on a space cyborg cowboy, you start questioning your career choices. ❀ ˎˊ- boothill x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 750 ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: written before his release whoops, boothill's half naked but like. he's always half naked your honor ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: engineers and mechanics dont @ me i dont know how machines work i just want to make funny cowboy man drabbles ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

Sometimes, you just had to take a step back and wonder just how badly you screwed up to get to your current point in life.

Sparks fizzled and sprayed out at you as you worked on the cyborg before you. Wiping at your forehead, you clicked your tongue as you dove in deeper with your pliers into the cavity in Boothill’s back, trying your best to make sense of the jungle that was his wires. It’d been a while since you’d seen such an… old fashioned model (now that everything was all puppets and wireless), but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

“You be careful back there,” your client called, throwing his head back to look back at you with a toothy grin and hitting your face with his hair in the process.

Briefly looking up for your work, you met his grey eyes with an unimpressed stare.

“I told you to keep your hair out of my way,” you chided, jabbing at a particularly sensitive spot with your pliers and earning a startled yelp.

“Ow-!” Boothill blew at a lock of hair childishly as he faced forward again. “Alright, alright, no need to get all cutesy.”

You raised a brow. “Aw, you think I’m cute?”

At your teasing, Boothill let out a whiny snarl, a scowl twisting his face. “Y’know what I mean. I swear, the second I get my hands on that troublemaker, I’m going to hug him.”

“Well, aren’t you just a sweetheart?”

He could practically hear the smile in your voice, and it only set him off even more. Out of spite or perhaps pettiness, Boothill shook his head, shoving even more of that hair into your face. Upon hearing your indignant complaints, he huffed smugly.

“That’s what you get for playin’ with me, sweetheart,” he sung triumphantly, leering at you with a cocky grin. You rolled your eyes, poking him in the nose.

“You’ve got some nerve to talk like that to the person with pliers in you,” you retorted, twisting said tools. Boothill shrugged, swiping out his tongue to try to lick at your finger, giggling like a schoolgirl when you quickly withdrew your hand.

“Ah, but you’d have to be a special kind of stupid to mess with me.” Boothill exhaled in satisfaction as you tightened certain screws, adding the finishing touches before closing his back hatch. “And you might be fiesty, but you ain’t stupid.”

You slapped his back as you finished, Boothill laughing as you did. Over the years, you’ve learned that he had quite the contagious laugh, evident by the way you too smiled upon hearing it. There was just something about the way he laughed without restraint, without worry or care for what others might think of him. But then again, that was just how Boothill was.

Standing up, you took off your apron and gloves and stretched, your bones cracking satisfyingly as you rolled back your shoulders.

“Let me get your clothes for you,” you said, shaking out your legs as you walked to your work table.

There, laying on it was his hat and what could barely be called a shirt, as you’d often say. Usually, you didn’t care about what your clients wore as long as they were decent, but if Boothill didn’t have metal for a torso, you were sure he’d be banned in most public spaces.

“Seriously, you should-” you began, only for something to completely slump against you, making you stumble from its weight and nearly collide into your work table. Familiar metal arms looped themselves around your waist, their flesh cold and hard.

Knowingly, you let out a sigh.

“Boothill, get off me.”

The cyborg hummed, briefly considering it before shaking his head and burying his face into your neck.

“Deal with it for a minute, won’t you?” His voice was muffled by your skin, his shark-like teeth grazing you as he spoke. “Been a while since I’ve seen you, much less held you.”

Slowly, you set down his clothes. With Boothill’s bare chest pressed against you, you could feel every stir and thrum of the machinery, from his artificial heart to the relaxing hum of his engine as he laid against you. That same hair that’d been your headache for the last hour now tickled at your neck, a giggle rising up in you at the feeling.

“Alright,” you conceded, patting his head and threading your fingers through his hair, a pleased murmur escaping the cyborg. “But only for a minute.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[celestial5]

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.

about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.

“you could kill me if you wanted to.”

it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “

“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.

“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”

“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.

you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”

“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”

satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.

his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.

in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.

he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”

there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.

“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”

“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”

“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.

“i need you.”

“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”

“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.

usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.

those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.

“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”

but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”

your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[celestial5]

y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?

[celestial5]

We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂

[celestial5]

Girls when he does the bare minimum in fanfiction

[celestial5]

“not all men”

you’re right, my favorite fictional character would never.

[celestial5]

Me when I can’t find the very specific 100k slow -burn enemies to lovers, angst with a happy ending, award winning fic that my brain created during my before bed story time, realising I have to write it myself to be able to read it

[celestial5]

Me at 3am clicking “keep reading” on the most jaw dropping, earth shattering, pantie dropping, smutty fic when I have to be up in 3 hours

[celestial5]

Me looking at myself in the mirror at 3am after reading smut for 4 hours straight instead of sleeping:

[celestial5]

“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

[celestial5]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

[celestial5]

me after opening tumblr to those spam porn bots posts when all i wanted to do was read a silly ass fanfic:

[celestial5]

cw. scars, fluff, gn! reader

you want to kiss all the scars and blemishes on blade's body— it‘s an ever growing need.

for one, it’s to clarify that you‘re accepting him benevolently, the second reason was to alleviate his wounded heart and promise him that he can always be vulnerable with you.

the dark haired doesn‘t talk a lot about his fading scars— some deeper than the others, but the first time you had seen them for yourself— said important moment being in the early morning with his back exposed to you, rays of sunlights were shining faintly within a wavering light.

but you did not question him right away.

up till now, as time went by, blade had continuously opened up to you and whenever he decided to speak about his hardships, you take his large hands in your much smaller ones before slowly drawing them towards your lips.

the knuckles had suffered from minuscule cuts around the sharp edges, so you add extra attention towards them and pepper each and every one while noticing blade's reactions.

a shaky breath being taken— becoming heavier as he exhaled through his nose, lips tightly sealed and watching you carefully from under his thick lashes.

you kiss over the back of his hand before withdrawing for a silent second, noticing one much bigger and more terrifying scar that although somewhat healed, had left a pretty large mark on his skin. but when you attentively slide your pointer finger over the spot he truly cannot pretend that he wasn‘t being affected by it.

one could not explain those emotions to anyone.

blade just had to kiss you.

by how fast the situation has changed, your eyes shot open when he quickly releases himself from your grip to mutely hold your cheeks in his warm palms— effortlessly pulling you against him to feel you, pushing his tongue past your lips to taste you.

he rounds his muscle against your own, colliding with each other as you gently tilt your head to the side, perceiving his strong heaves blanketing on your skin while you passionately tangle your hands into his long hair to tug him near.

regarded as simple kissing on the outside— was, as a matter of fact, the unwavering result of real affection and real love, being wholly vulnerable and devoted.

a kiss, that regardless of its origins, was anything else but simple.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[celestial5]