strawberryfanatic01

🍓

~ 18 ~ mx-am 🇲🇽 multiple interests

928 posts

> Gojo Satoru Is Just So Fascinated By Everything You Do, And When You Do Makeup? Oh, Hes Just So Entranced.

—> gojo satoru is just so fascinated by everything you do, and when you do makeup? oh, he’s just so entranced. and now he’s decided, he wants you to do his makeup!

warnings —> fluff fluff fluff, gojo gets overwhelmed by how much he loves you, a kiss but nothing descriptive! he just loves you and youre also smitten with him 🙂‍↕️

ps —> this was inspired by those tiktoks where someone is doing their makeup and their pet just stares at them with wonder the whole time…ouuu gojo is a big dog T_T

from the corner of your eyes, you could glimpse, gojo, your husband, sitting on the edge of the bed, a small glimmer of admiration in his eyes—thankfully uncovered—as he watched you do your makeup. It was a bit unnerving, if you had to be frank.

the way his eyes were watching your every move so intently, pursing his lips as if he was going through the thought process of gathering a solution for the most complicated issue in the world.

your brows furrowed, the lipliner held delicately in between your fingers as you traced over your lips, stopping for a second in order to look at him through the vanity mirror, “what’s with that look?” your tone left your lips amused, a bit of curiosity wrapped in it.

he was watching you like a puppy waiting for his owner, while still managing to look so fascinated as if you were performing some sort of parkour stunt or some sort of magic trick—almost like you were pulling a bunny out of your hat right infront of his eyes.

but no. you were merely only doing your makeup.

“you…” be started, the focused look not quite leaving his features as he squinted his eyes a bit, “now are you so precise? does it not tickle when you draw over your eyes like that? or when you draw on your lips?” he blinked, question after question fired rapidly—expressing his eagerness to get behind this apparently ground breaking mystery.

you stilled, liner in your hand pausing with your lack of movement, before a small giggle erupted from your lined lips, “tickle? what are you, five? it doesn’t tickle, no.” you hummed under your breath, focusing back on your lips as you lined over them.

you couldn’t help yourself, “why? want to try?” you teased, tone joking and playful, not really intending for any seriousness to be misinterpreted behind it.

“yes.” he blurted out, tone serious and devoid of any playfulness.

a sigh left your lips.

“gojo satoru, sit still so I can—!” your annoyed groans rang through the room, eyes narrowed in concentration—and a bit of annoyance, frankly—as you attempted to trace the tip of the eyeliner onto your husband’s eyelids, hand gripping the pen so tightly you were afraid it would break.

as you readjusted yourself on his lap, a small pout rested on his features, his glossy lips curving downwards as tightened his grip on you, hands sitting on your hips lovingly, “i’m ticklish!” he whined, scrunching his eyes shut, making it near impossible for you to seamlessly draw on a neat wing like the one you currently have on your eyes.

ugh, this child.

“i’ve never met someone who’s ticklish from an eyeliner.” you huffed under your breath, hand gripping his broad shoulder tightly as your other hand worked to draw the wing, coming all jagged and not straight, “‘toru!”

you seriously hated when your eyeliner wasn’t perfect, and surprise surprise …you hated it even more when your husband’s eyeliner wasn’t perfect.

his hands squeezed your hips, thumbs finding purchase in gently smoothing over the skin under your—his—shirt, finding a strange domesticity in the moment. his wife, all pretty and dolled up in your own makeup, giving him the experience of a lifetime by applying makeup on him.

and the best part of it all? you’re seated right on his lap, where he can place his hands over your waist without needing an excuse.

to help you stabilize, of course. or at least—that was the excuse he used, hehe!

“hey hey! be gentle with me.” a small grimace rested on his features as he felt your thumb press on the corner of his eye and swiping, probably erasing a smudge or a mistake, “i want to be all pretty like you when you’re done!”

your hand stilled, fingers almost loosening their tight grip on the eyeliner pencil as soon as his words reached your ears, carried by the serene and cozy atmosphere in the room. despite all the frustration you felt, you couldn’t help but feel fondness, fondness at how enamored he seemed by you, how genuine his love was—how the words flowed so easily from his lips.

as if he didn’t even have to think about it.

your eyes softened, a cozy warmth filling up every crevice of your body, filling you up to the brim and almost suffocating you, “you’re already prettier than me even without all this.” You huffed under your breath, tone genuine despite your earlier annoyance.

despite the way you huffed your words out, there was still the unmistakable fondness that any one could distinct.

at your words, he fluttered his eyes open, choosing to dismiss the little protest flying from your lips—all in favor of being able to look at you, to show you the love and admiration clouding his gaze, he may as well be rendered a blind man whenever he’s in your presence. your heavenly presence.

it’s instinctive, the words that flow from his lips, it’s all so effortless—he doesn’t even need to think about it.

the words bang on the base of his throat, begging to be let out, to leave his lips and travel all the way to the crevices of your heart, to bury itself in between your ribs and any place it could reach. this was merely how he was around you.

“so sappy, eh?” his tone lowered, a mere whisper traveling in the air around them, his hands tightening their hold on you, tugging you closer to him, “my baby thinks I’m pretty?” a coo left his lips, gazing up at you with the softest eyes a man could ever muster. you above him—he thinks he would’ve went on his knees to worship if you if he wasn’t sitting on the bed.

you’re just so pretty.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, the hand that was on his shoulder now taking it’s rightful place on the side of his face, barely cupping his cheek, thumb smoothing over his sculpted features, in rhythm to his own thumb that was stroking your hip bone. “very.”

Ah, shit.

he had to keep himself from completely crumbling right then and there, from burying his face in his hands and melting, “you—“ the most he could do right now was clear his throat, a distinct red color staining the back of his neck and his ears, making its way to his cheeks. “you can’t just say that…” he grumbled under his breath.

he secretly hoped you would say more; to fluster him until he combusts, until you’re left with a man who cannot comprehend anything beyond the warmth of your affection and sweet compliments.

“can’t handle a small compliment, toru?” you cooed, enjoying the way the red on his cheeks intensified. a small chuckle left your lips, gently placing down the liner in your hand—the one you made sure to be extra careful with due to how you always complained about how expensive it is—

instead, you picked up a tube of lipstick, a pretty shade that you always smeared on your own lips. “it’s time for lipstick, since you’re allergic to eyeliner, apparently.”

it’s not like he needs it anyways. he’s still inexplicably pretty without anything, you mused in your head.

his eyes immediately drifted to the tube in your hand, his flustered state forgotten. his gaze drifted back to your lips, a small frown on his glossy lips as he contemplated for a few seconds, “is that the same one that’s one your lips?” he questioned, pushing you down firmly onto his lap as he tried to distract himself from how plump and inviting your lips looked.

you furrowed your eyebrows, head lolling slightly to the side in confusion, “yeah? why?”

his eyes seemed to light up for a second, glimmering with unconcealed excitement, like a big puppy being presented with treats. a smile perked up the corners of his lips, laced with eagerness and…mischievous intent. you knew your satoru, you could tell when he was up to something.

“wait— what are you—!”

your words, spoken in a hurry of what was to come, were soon muffled as you felt large hands travel from your hips all the way to the soft skin of your cheeks, delicately cupping the fat in his palms. you were rendered speechless, in shock of the sudden action coming from him.

however, you couldn’t say you despised the sudden movement, not when it was followed by a soft sensation placed upon your lips.

a soft exhale left his lips, all but making you shiver as the tube of lipstick fell from your hands, immersed into the sensation you could never tire of. his lips moved in tandem with yours, sweet and delicate, passionate—taking his time with you, his intentions clear; the need to show you just how much his affection for you stretched, how he needed you to feel how much he loved you.

his lips pressed upon yours, soft and fulfilling in its own way, the proclamations of undying love and affection flowing from his lips to yours—no words exchanged.

you could only blink as he parted from the kiss, a smile—filled with undeniable smugness and fondness—forming on his lips, that were now stained the same color as yours, “i’m helping you save product.” he hummed, clearly proud of tje strategy he had performed, “the color looked better on your lips than in the tube. i wanted mine to look like that too!”

ah…this…lovable idiot.

your eyes drifted to his quirked lips, the color from your lips had transferred to his own, messily smudging on his glossy lips, it was messy—unlike the way you would’ve applied it from the tube, all clean and smooth—but…you think you prefer it that way.

“it’s so messy, satoru.” you could only groan, trying to mask the obvious embarrassment and giddiness you felt.

he perked up at that, eyes rounding in excitement as his hands landed on your waist, eagerly tugging you closer, “let’s fix it then!”

before you could utter another word, his lips were placed upon yours once more.