#an anon requested play wrestling with gojo and blade

[ddarker-dreams]

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.” 

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure. 

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?” 

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off. 

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.” 

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity). 

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.” 

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him. 

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do. 

“Do I get any final requests?” 

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?” 

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible. 

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale. 

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both. 

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade. 

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it. 

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.” 

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam. 

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.” 

#an anon requested play wrestling with gojo and blade #but i love that concept so much i'll do a lil scenario for those currently in my Husband Rotation #starting with the white-haired menace #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo brainrot #my stuff