The Best Of My Heart

The Best of My Heart

Word Count: Just over 6.8k

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: hallucinations, blood, character death, brief mention of religion (no details honestly), brief mention of pregnancy, disgusting fluff, not edited

Currently Listening To: In the Stars by Benson Boone

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🆘 A Call for Urgent Help for Our Family in Gaza🚨🇵🇸🍉

Dear Friends and Supporters,🙏

I am reaching out with a heartfelt plea for assistance. My family, consisting of five children and two parents, is in urgent need due to the ongoing crisis in Gaza for the second year of war.

We are struggling to meet our basic needs: rent, food, clean water, and medical expenses. Each day presents new challenges, and my priority is to ensure the safety and well-being of my children.

If you are in a position to help, any contribution would be immensely appreciated and make a significant difference in our lives. Thank you for your compassion and support during this critical time.

With gratitude,

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cw ۫ ꣑ৎ actor satoru gojo x fem. reader, angst, foul language, hurt no comfort, feminine pet names, mentions of cöck, he just sucks ◟ 2.3k wc

lola’s lip service : beta read by the lovely @kisstoru, thx bunny xxx

as the music in the club shifts to a sensuous beat, it pales in comparison to the steady drum of anger coursing through your veins at the scene filling your vision.

if the grip on your martini glass was any tighter, jagged shards would scrape your hand, vodka searing each gash as if they were set on fire.

and yet… that’d be nothing compared to the sting of watching your boyfriend, a famed actor satoru gojo, flirting with another woman twenty feet away from you.

your relationship with the white-haired man started rocky, for obvious reasons. coming from two different worlds would cause a strain on any relationship. satoru, being used to the limelight and attention, saw nothing wrong with late nights out in los angeles, liquor, and various women throwing themselves at him under the guise of being his ‘fans’. after all, it came with the lifestyle of being ‘the sexiest man in hollywood’.

you, on the other hand, saw everything wrong with it.

you’ve lost count of how many times you and satoru would argue over the violation of your boundaries. yes, your boundaries because if you’ve learned one thing while being in a relationship with satoru… boundaries? he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. like now, as you gawk at the sight of satoru’s slender fingers gingerly tucking that girl’s hair behind her pierced ear, fingertips grazing over the industrial bar through her cartilage.

bile rises from your gut, threatening to make your dinner reappear in chunks at the lustful gleam in his eyes as his cerulean attention flints to that girl’s cleavage. your body heat reaches scorching temperatures, a thin layer of sweat materializing on your flesh from the maelstrom of emotions clouding your psyche. fury, sadness, with a heaping dose of disappointment crawls up your throat, constricting your airway, making it hard to breathe, pressure building behind your sinuses.

damn it, not now, not—

your thoughts short-circuit when you catch a glimpse of that girl pressing her tits against satoru’s sculpted chest, his sizable hand resting on her waist, pulling her closer. it was as if your tears disintegrated from your very eyes, filling your scleras with flames, pupils dilating in ire. slamming your glass on the round table, you shoot up to your feet, saint laurent heels heavily clicking against the vinyl flooring as if they’re made of lead, bringing you closer to the object of your vexation.

“yeah? you wanna taste, pretty gi— hey!” satoru yelps when your hand curls around the back of his leather jacket, yanking him away from the disgusting atmosphere he created with that girl. “‘toru, let’s talk outside,” your tone signifying no question was asked, and judging by his threaded brow raising at said tone, he knows it was a demand.

“hm? what about?” satoru teases, playfulness dancing in his cyanic irises. your gaze hardens into an ominous glare, “now, satoru,” ice wrapping around each syllable of his given name. his lids widened slightly, a shiver of fear running up his spine before retracting to their relaxed state. he can feel the eggshells cracking under his feet. satoru decides it’s better to tread lightly as to not spur you on… for now.

he nods, leaving cash on the bar top for his tab before rising to his feet from the uncomfortable stool. as he moves to walk behind you, a hand lands on his bicep, the muscle dwarfing the sickly appendage almost comically. “leaving me already, handsome?” a voice, akin to nails on the chalkboard rings in your ears, making your nose scrunch up in distaste.

satoru’s attention catches hers, a stupid smirk curling up on his face. “sorry baby, gotta talk to her real quick,” he replies, coyness infesting his tenor, your neck cracking with how hard you did a double take. hearing ‘baby’ roll of satoru’s tongue, all honeyed and sweet, towards some trollop, makes smoke come out your ears.

“i’ll be here,” she giggles, the sound making your ass itch. satoru winks… winks! at her, turning around to face you. he flinches back once he sees how close you are to him. “whew, you scared me, baby,” his blood pressure leveling once more. he should be scared, you think to yourself, eyes scanning his frame before walking towards the exit, satoru trailing behind you.

the velvet-padded door opens, causing the autumn breeze to kiss your skin, tapering off the jitters in your bones a tad. silent tension blankets you and satoru as the constant thump of footfalls fill the dead air. satoru, can’t help but admire you from behind. you can almost feel his eyes fucking you from top to bottom as you both walk together towards the parking lot.

is he that fucking clueless about your mood?

leaning your ass against the hood of your bentley, crossing your arms over your ample chest, “explain,” stern vocal cords slicing through the air like a katana through flesh. satoru’s features screw up in mockery, “whaddya mean, princess?” faux ignorance laced through each vowel, creases forming in between your brows. your acrylics dig into the plump flesh of your tricep, leaving crescent marks on your once unblemished skin.

it’s times like this when you wonder how you fell in love with satoru.

letting out a huff, pinching the bridge of your nose, you utter, “this is not the time to act like something’s funny, satoru.” a child-like frown downturn on his face, grumbling, “you’re no fun, baby,” as his spine straightens. you feel a sliver of your irritation subside at him taking this conversation seriously. you try not to get your hopes up too much. one minute he’s communicating and listening, the next minute he’s cracking jokes, dismissing your worries as quickly as they came.

“it was jus’ a little flirting, baby. what of it?” satoru nonchalantly smiles, his mitts residing deep in his jean pockets, indifferent. you scoff. so much for him taking things seriously.

“seriously?” you question, annoyed.

“why? jealous? awww, don’t be jealous, baby. you know—” you cut satoru off by slapping away his hand as it was about to cup your cheek. “jealous of who, exactly?” you spit, vexed by his mocking tone. he chuckles, “oh come on, you’re a smart girl. figure it out,” twirling a stray lock of your hair around his finger. you push his hand away once more, fed up with his antics.

“do you just not give a fuck about me?”

satoru’s grin drops from his face at your pained expression. exasperation covered his own as you snapped at him. “what’s wrong this time?” he inquired, shifting his weight to his other leg. with how hard you rolled your eyes, you’re surprised they didn’t fall out of your skull.

this time?!

the vein on the side of your neck bulges at his complete lack of awareness. “just answer truthfully. why were you flirting with that girl?” at this point, you’re over it, over him. there’s no use in beating around the bush. no use in acting unbothered when you are bothered. satoru stares at you, boredom etched on his face. “it’s not rocket science as to why,” he scoffs.

if you didn’t have self-control, you would’ve punched him square in his gums. “apparently it is ‘cause i don’t understand it,” looking into his eyes, demanding an answer. the fact that after a year of being his girlfriend, having the same fights over and over, he still can’t comprehend why you’re upset right now.

and that fact hurts you.

“i felt like it. besides, she made it easy for me,” satoru shrugs, adjusting his sleek rolex before smoothing down his black shirt. “i mean, i can’t help that i’m handsome, baby,” pearly white grin spreading across his soft lips, singular dimple making an appearance.

a harsh laugh rips through your sternum. did he just say that out loud? you think to yourself. in this moment, friends, family, and media blogs warning you about this man, come back to haunt you in despicable ways. you feel like a fool. a complete bozo for thinking he had a shred of respect for your relationship.

what did you expect from a man tmz calls ‘satoru hoejo’?

“why did i ever bother with you, huh?! what made me think you, out of all people, could fucking understand how a fucking adult relationship fucking works? a fucking man-child is what you are, asshole,” you belittle, red hot disdain slinking into each dig you bark.

blood sloshes in your ears, your ragged breathing louder than normal as you try to uncurl your hands from their white-knuckled fists. satoru’s cool gaze studies your demeanor, chiseled arms crossing over his chest. internally, he is reveling in your outrage. he can’t help the way his cock stirs behind his fly at the fiery pitch your tone adheres to.

before he can stop himself, satoru teases, “heh, you’re so cute when you’re mad.” at his verbiage, you freeze, feeling as if a bucket of cold water was dumped over your head, clothes sticking uncomfortably to your shivering skin. you just don’t understand. how can someone who’s supposed to protect your heart, continually handle it as if it’s not fragile? you wanted so badly to believe he was different, so badly to hope he’d give you what you’ve been searching for. but as you notice that playful arrogance twinkling in his light irises, you’re made keenly aware that he’s not who he portrayed himself to be.

“and on that note, we’re done satoru. tell that girl, with the change machine between her legs, to take you home,” rounding the front of your car, reaching the driver's side door, wanting to be alone and forget about the last hour of your life.

try the last year of your life.

you couldn’t even curl your hand around the door handle before satoru grabbed your arm, halting your movements. “what are you telling me?” tightening his grasp on your elbow, agitation seeds planting in his voice. snatching your arm away from the beginnings of a vise-like grip, “fuck you,” you fume.

a cracked chuckle vacates his larynx, “fuck me? is that what you’re telling me? after i gave you things the next woman would kill for?” satoru can’t believe how irrational you’re being right now. he doesn’t know what this is. are you jealous? insecure? or just downright insane, acting this way over something so small? sure, he flirts with other girls. so what? it’s not like any of those girls meant anything to him. it’s all fun and games to him. and if he pisses you off in the process, that’s fine with him. nothing like a good pounding into the mattress to dampen your fury. and it works, every. single. time.

except now.

“what did you give me?! a fucking migraine? yeah, that’s about as much as you’ve given me throughout this entire relationship.”

“yeah? so that necklace with my initials on it, those fucking diamonds on your fingers, that fucking car! you got that all by yourself?” he scoffs, snidely.

“here, take it all back!” you seethed, ripping off your necklace and chucking it at his face. he will not have that kind of hold on you. it’s all fake. the love, the care, the feelings… none of it was real. “what else do you want? my shoes?” slipping out your heels, throwing them at his feet. “my purse?” shoving your prada bag roughly into his chest. “w-what else huh? you… you already took my heart. not like i’ll ever get that back,” fresh crystalline drops filling your eyes as they burn with the weight of your fractured heart.

satoru stands there, statue stiff, regarding the scene in his eye line. a pang of… something pierces his chest seeing you cry, fat tears gliding down your cheeks, leaving streaks in your makeup. he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, throat tight, feeling as if he scarfed down a wine cork. satoru has never seen you cry, the sight so foreign, urging that pang to sink its fangs into his heartstrings, tugging on them brutally.

as you wipe the salt water away, satoru’s fingers twitch. his nerve endings screaming at him to comfort you, to be the first man to dry your tears instead of causing you to produce more. but, he stays glued to his spot, helplessness encasing his aura as he rubs the back of his neck, fingers grazing the buzzed hair contaminating his undercut.

“(name), i—”

lifting your manicured hand, you cut off his verbiage firmly, done with him. “don’t. i’m done with your empty words, your empty apologies, your empty fucking heart. i’m done with it all,” you reiterate, voice nasally as your tears invite all your congestion to come out and play. sniffling, you strap your heels back on your feet, cringing from the gravel stabbing your feet as it gets compressed by the sole of the torture devices.

snatching your purse out of satoru's mitts, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “you’ll… you’ll miss me,” satoru spoke, as if he was trying to convince himself of that fact more than you. his azures narrow at how ridiculous his feeble attempts echo through the still atmosphere, gritting his teeth as that feeling of desperation rears its ugly head.

“i’d rather adjust my life to your absence than lower my boundaries to allow your disrespect.”

the finality of your tone is like a dagger through each chamber of his heart, with each palpitation bursting like a balloon. satoru’s clutches slacken, urging you to remove your wrist from his calluses and enter your car. through the cotton stuffed in his ears, all he can recall is the rumbling hum of the engine, tires screeching from speeding away as the distance, both proverbial and literal, between the pair increases.

nippiness pricks at satoru’s skin, creating goosebumps to rise. whispers of his regrets flirt with the breeze, each insensitive action he bestowed upon you coming home to roost. tension formulates behind his sockets, his stomach dropping as the heavy lead of despair stacks in his gut.

“dammit…”

© all rights reserved to dulcento, 2024

cutest funniest drabble i love it my heart is warming

Imagine being mad at Satoru, and you both are sitting in the back of the car as Ichiji drives. The atmosphere was tense, and Satoru kept trying to hold your hand the whole time.

"Stop it, Satoru."

He had your hand in his by this point. Your fingers getting intertwined in the process after he wrestles with your fist for a moment to get your fingers to open. It was obvious he wasn't letting you go with the amount of grip he had the moment he got your hand where he wanted, so you did the next best thing. You jutted your fingers out.

He glared at you then before grabbing your fingers with his free hand and pushing them back down so your fingers were interlocking with his own again. Then, in the side of the door, he pulled out some tape.

"Satoru-"

He ignored you as he placed the end of the tape on the back of his hand that was still holding onto yours, and before you could jerk away he started to rapidly cover your intertwined hands in tape.

"There," he said, "we may be fighting, but you're not letting go of my hand."

"You're so infuriating sometimes! What if I have to pee?!"

"We're peeing together then."

this hurt in the right ways omfg

Suitable Enough

Gojo Satoru x reader

summary: and what if all you need to destroy a relationship is one single moment? c.w.: angst, no comfort. hurt. classism (status difference). fyi I detest meimei thus I use her as a plot device here. it's sad. 3.4k. no curse au. modern au. corporate setting. fem reader (no physical description but use of she/her). a.n.: I felt violent for no good reason and started writing this, lmao. I've been writing all this cute stuff about satoru, felt like I needed to change it up a little bit. I just wanted problems, basically. sorry in advance, everyone 😔✊🏽 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 ✿◡‿◡

Two hours ago, you were fine. Or at least you didn’t care so much about “status.” 

Two hours ago, you loved her boyfriend, and you were happy, and all was well. 

An hour and fifty-two minutes ago, you went up to the administrative floor to drop off some documents, walked the corner to MeiMei’s office and overheard a “meeting”. You didn’t think it was important, or at least the serious parts of the conversation had already been dealt with. They were all up there, all the people in a high position in your company. Executives, officials and whatnot, including your loving boyfriend. 

That was the world he belonged to, the one you didn’t really meddle with.

“You’re still messing with that girl from the design department Satoru?” MeiMei had asked. There were laughs, you couldn’t tell who they belonged to. You stayed frozen where you were, at the mention of you — “hopefully he isn’t messing with another girl in my department”, you thought as a joke to yourself. Maybe you should have just gone along with your task and left. Actually, this was supposed to be an assistant’s task, and you had randomly volunteered to bring the papers up since you had time and the assistant was occupied. Maybe it would have been better to stay back and let someone else do it. 

“Yeah, so?” Your boyfriend’s voice followed, there was a slight harshness in his tone, almost imperceptible. He doesn’t like this subject, the way the question is formulated, the mention of his girlfriend this way, but he says nothing. 

“You know your parents aren’t going to like her right? She brings… nothing. Essentially.” MeiMei continued. At this, you felt something tighten in your chest. 

All he did is hum. 

You knew this. Technically, you did not bring anything to his corporate persona. But that didn’t matter, that wasn’t why you were with him anyways. 

“Aren’t they sending you on those dates with girls from good families?” That voice you recognized, it belonged to Geto, Satoru’s closest friend. 

“Yeah, every couple of months.” You didn’t know this. Did he seriously go to these things? He said he had “family meetings”, where they actually dates to set him up with people better for him? 

“So what Satoru? You’re gonna eventually choose one that matches with your status and keep her as a side piece or just dump her?” There was accusation in Geto’s tone. You held back a gasp at the question, but you knew Satoru’s answer to it could make or break your relationship. There’s a beat of silence. What does he need to think about his answer for? This man told you he loved you this very morning, he doesn’t have to-

“I don’t know.” He finally said and you felt like the air had been punched out of your lungs. 

Oh. 

Okay. 

You thought you’d heard enough. 

I should do my job and get out of here.

This was a crowd you doesn’t meddle with. 

Any of them. 

You cleared your throat as you walked into the office, to make your presence known. They’re all suddenly quiet, eerily so. 

“Miss MeiMei, I was sent up to bring these documents for you to sign. Mr. Yoshida told me to insist that he needs them today.” You said this with no emotion in her voice, no expression on your face. Sometimes, in dire moments like this one, you simply got out of your body, went through the motions. You hand the papers to the woman, and MeiMei takes them. Her eyes seemed wary, she looked between “the girl from the design department” and Satoru but decided to keep quiet. MeiMei was a shit-stirrer, but she couldn’t face the music this directly. The second she took the papers, you turned on my heel and walk off. You didn’t even notice the faces of the other few people in the room, you didn’t even give Satoru a glance. 

“She didn’t hear us. Did she?” Somebody asks, you didn’t care about who it was.

You are at the elevator a few seconds after that incident, clicking on the button when your wrist is grabbed by someone. You turn and you see him. Usually, the sight of him makes your eyes light up, he notices how they don’t do so at the moment. He says your name, almost as a question. Almost as if he’s asking, “did you hear us?” But if you didn’t how can he bring it up to you?

You look down at his hand around your wrist, and you feel the warmth radiating from his fingers. This usually would make your skin tingle a little, your heart flutter in delight. You love this man that much. But there’s a numbness in your entire body, and his touch feels so foreign. You bring your free hand to his and you firmly pry it off. 

The elevator opens and you walk in. You click on your floor’s button as you turn around, he looks at you with some form of despair in his eyes. He says your name again, you don’t respond. Not because you don’t want to — although it’s a bit because of that — but because you can’t. Your body and mind are protecting you, you’re on autopilot, you’re removing yourself from this. It will all hit soon enough. 

You heard. 

Satoru can’t bring himself to get in the elevator. He can’t handle the empty look in your eyes, or the way you took his hand off of your body. His legs feel like they’re about to go numb. This can’t be happening. 

You heard. 

You go through the rest of your workday like you’re in some sort of dream. You feel your phone vibrate multiple times on your desk, but you’re too far removed from it all to check it out. When it’s finally time to clock out, you shove it in your purse without looking at it and you leave the office building. 

These past few months, you’ve been used to Satoru driving you home, it might be interesting to get back to public transportation. And during the whole journey to your place, you’re still hazy, quiet, so you’re barely aware of your surroundings. 

It’s when you finally kick your shoes off at the entrance, hang your jacket and leave your purse on the counter of your kitchenette, that you feel sensations coming back to your body. With them, comes the familiar prickle of tears in your eyes. Why didn’t he correct MeiMei when she said, “messing around”? Was that how he presented those eight months to every one of his friends? Was that what he thought of your relationship? 

You try to take a deep breath, but it is a shuddering one, hearing yourself doesn’t help at all. You’re crying and it hurts violently. The pain is sprawling, its tentacles wrapping around your throat, squeezing. You think of this man you love, who claims he loves you and you feel lied to, as if he had lured you into a false sense of security. 

You didn’t even want to give him a chance in the first place.

You were aware of the gap between you. You knew he belonged to a certain group you weren’t at all a part of. You are a regular person, had a regular upbringing and you live a regular life. He is in that sphere of people who made decisions forothers, whether they like them or not. You thought it would never work at first, but he had been so good to you. 

Time passes as you stay on the floor of your apartment, luckily you’ve got floor heating. When you finally don’t have any more tears to cry, you gather yourself up enough to get your phone. There are over fifty notifications for messages and missed calls. Multiple variations of the same: 

Baby?  Where are you? Can we talk?  ✧✧✧, please answer me.  Please. I love you, you know I do. 

At the sight of it all, your eyes sting, but the tears don’t follow. Your breath is still quivering as you sigh. You don’t know what to tell him, if there’s even anything to say. You’re in pain but the rational part of you is already planning what things to get back to Satoru. You put the phone down on your counter, you’re not ready to face this quite yet. 

You go to the bathroom and try to get on with your usual routine. There are sobs here and there, dry and tearless, as you get in the shower, then out. When you get changed into something more comfortable, you purposely avoid anything of his, as if touching it could scorch you.

When you get back to your living-room, almost an hour later, you check the time. 8:37 pm. You got off work at 3:30, got home at 5, cried for almost two hours and here you are. Your phone vibrates on the counter and this time you actually go and check it out directly.

8:38 pm. toru 🩵 Baby, I’m downstairs, please. Please let me in. 

You look at the notifications, then click. Instantly, all his messages are read, but you don’t respond. You still don’t know what to say. The intercom near your door starts ringing. You’re pretty sure of who it’s going to be, should you choose to answer it. 

You do. 

It’s not at your pace, but there are two people involved, you can’t decide everything unilaterally. 

“Yes?” 

“Oh, thank fuck… baby… please let me up, let’s talk.” His voice sounds peculiar now, maybe because of the intercom, but there’s more to it. As if your pain was filtering it. 

“You have a key.” You answer flatly. 

“I didn’t want to intrude.” There’s a beat of silence. You’re glad he didn’t come up on his own. “Let me up?”

“No. I don’t want you to come up.” You say, you try to be firm but your voice wavers. 

“Baby-”

“I’ll come down instead.” You say before you hang up.

It’s better if he doesn’t come up to your apartment. It’ll be more difficult to have this conversation in closed quarters, to tell him what hurts without him coaxing you into his arms. You grab a large puffer jacket, usually for winter, it’s a little brisk outside, with autumn coming — makes you look like a football coach, he had joked the first time he saw you in it — and you head out. 

When Satoru sees you push your building door and walk out, he can’t help but sigh in relief. That feeling is short-lived though, once he notices the red in your eyes and the slight puffiness around them. Bile rises in his throat at the mere idea that you cried, and the whole thing replays in his mind, as it has been for hours now. He also takes note of the way you keep away from him, choosing to wrap your arms around yourself in comfort. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out, you just stare in silence. He doesn’t say what for and that bothers you. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.” He adds after a few seconds. You think he’s just sorry that you heard, not that what was said was fucked up. 

“Do you and your friends always talk about… us… that way?” You ask first, his mouth opens, you don’t let him say anything. “I’m just the girl you’re messing with?” 

“No! No. You’re my girlfriend, my baby.” 

“Why didn’t you say it then? Why did you just let her say that and let them laugh? Did you laugh with them?” Your voice rises a little, you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. You don’t want to yell, but there’s anger bubbling in your throat, it’s better than the crying, you suppose. 

He didn’t think you heard that, he thought you only caught the part about the set-ups his parents send him to. And now he knows how much he fucked up. 

“Baby that’s- it’s not-” there’s really no excuse. Why didn’t he correct MeiMei, defend you, your relationship? He’s not sure, really. Because he did think about it, he just didn’t act on it. He recalls how long it took to court you. Months of you not caring much for his attention because, well, you’re not in the olden days, but Satoru’s a corporate nepo baby and you were not born into wealth. 

“What? It’s not what, Gojo?” You hate his hesitation, his stutter, how he’s incapable of saying he loves you and wants to be with you to his friends. 

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t Gojo me, baby… I fucked up okay? I know I did. But please-“ 

“And you’ve been going on dates too? With what- girls your family finds “acceptable” enough for you? Oh! And what did you say? You don’t know, Gojo? You don’t know if you’re gonna dump me or keep me as a side piece? You think I’m gonna-”you pause here, take another deep breath, your voice was cracking so violently through the whole thing, matching the anger and the pain. “You’re not doing that to me. I’m not- I’ll make it easier even, how about we b-”

“No! No, don’t say that!” He screams this, lurching towards you and bringing you into his arms. “Don’t finish that sentence. We’re not- no.” 

You let him squeeze you to him a little too long and you feel the tears prickle your eyes again, and you thought you’d cried enough. Your hands are balled into fists, you manage to slip them up to his lower stomach and you push him, softly, off of you. 

“I want a break, then.” You say, when he lets you go — barely, his hands are still on your arms.

“Baby…” Is all he can muster.

“You should give me back my key.” You add. This feels like a punch in the gut to him. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

He watches you detach his apartment key from your chain as if he’s in some alternate reality. 

This doesn’t feel real. There’s a sour taste in his mouth as he looks at the palm of your hand, his key in it. He can’t help the slight tremble of his fingers as he takes it back from you. He gives yours back and it feels like you’re ripping his arms off.

He’s glad you let him press a kiss to your temple before you get back up to your place. It’s going to be alright, or at least he hopes it will. You just need time, right?

▪︎▪︎▪︎

After your exchange with Satoru, you feel entirely depleted, you know you need some time. But this hurts. It feels like the floor is caving in and every second you’re not falling into a hole is a surprise. 

You call off work for the next few days and try to organize your thoughts. Time away from each other helps. It helps you put things into perspective. You and Satoru didn’t argue much before this, you had disagreements here and there, but no full-blown arguments. This was harder, deeper, than anything you’ve been through. You don’t know how anyone else would’ve reacted to it, but it makes you think. 

If you move past this, continued the relationship, then what? You’re still you and he’s still him. Then something like this happens again because you don’t fit into his world somehow. And again. And again. You don’t want that for yourself.

You think of how Satoru never hung out with your friends, and you didn’t hang out with his. Your worlds never collided, and you didn’t demand it. Maybe you should have, it would certainly have ended the honeymoon phase earlier. Especially if his friend group thought your relationship was bound to crash and burn. And you would have known earlier that he wasn’t so sure about you. 

That thought hurts the most. 

Maybe breaking up is the only solution at this time. Because you’ll keep thinking about it. You don’t want a relationship tainted with resentment. How can this be fixed? 

You finally call him after two weeks, setting up a meeting in a café. 

▪︎▪︎▪︎

You’re nervous when you see him, you’ve missed him. And a large part of you wants to bring him into your arms and press his skin to yours. He looks tired, but still himself. He hesitates a moment when he sits in front of you at the table. You chose one near a window, somewhere in the back. His hands are on the table at first, they twitch slightly with the want to touch yours, he brings them to his lap. You don’t talk until you’ve both placed your orders. He takes a mocha with extra caramel syrup, you stick to a flat white. 

You both start speaking simultaneously, awkwardly laugh, before he gestures for you to talk. From the look on your face, he feels like lead is filling his stomach. Please don’t say what he thinks you’re going to say.

“I…” You start but suddenly stop, needing some time to gather your thoughts. You hate this.

“Uh… how have you been?” He attempts.

“I’m… I don’t know. Not great.” Maybe honesty is the way to go. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About everything. About us.”

“Hmm.” He hums, his leg is frantically moving under the table. 

“I think it would be best if we ended this here.” His knee knocks under the table. You startle a little. 

He whispers your name. He slides one of his hands towards your side, his palm up in invitation towards you. “I can… I can fix it, baby, please let me fix it.” 

“How? How are you going to fix it, Satoru?” You ask in the softest way you can. Once again, he is wordless. 

“I’ll… I don’t know but I can try.” His voice has a tremble to it, he’s about to cry. You try not to let the guilt eat at you. 

“Satoru… I just don’t trust you, anymore. I don’t know how we can fix that. You don’t know what you’ll do, right? About me, if you meet a girl that’s suitable enough.” You try to explain your reasoning, but nothing sounds logical in this. 

“I wouldn’t leave you. I never want to leave you.” He defends, fully crying now. 

The fact that you won’t grab his hand back is breaking his heart. It’s only fair though, he broke yours first. He knows though, that maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the backbone to tell his family and friends that he’s already chosen you, that you’re perfect for him. But his parents consider your relationship a distraction, just like MeiMei said, they think he’s messing around. How is he supposed to assert himself to his father, who holds his entire inheritance above his head as leverage? He doesn’t know how to deal with familial expectations, but he loves you. 

“What then? We pretend this never happened? I don’t think I can get over this, Satoru.” At your words he brings the hand you won’t take to his face, wipes the tears off but they’re instantly replaced by more. The sight makes you tear up.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry I hurt you. I love you.” He apologizes and you don’t respond. You don’t want to be here, in this café anymore. He doesn’t know how to fix this, you don’t either. It hurts and that’s it. 

“I know. And I-I love you too, I really do. But love isn’t everything.” You say with finality. It’s not enough to love each other, not with how different your lives are. “I’ll send you back your things.” You mumble as you stand, ready to leave.

He wants to grab your hand, promise you the world, but he doesn’t. He can’t. That would be lying to you, and he doesn’t want to lie to you anymore. He wants to tell you not to send him his stuff back, it would make it all too real, but he can’t do that either. He pursued you so fervently all those months ago, but he can’t figure out how to make you stay. He’s scared of losing you, but he’s also scared of how it would go with his parents should he choose you. That’s unfair to you, he knows, so he has to let you go.

“I’ll miss you.” He says as you leave, you nod because your throat is tight with the need to cry. Just then, the server comes back with your coffees. 

Satoru's own personal masterlist a.n.: if you've gotten all the way here, thank you ♡ hehe i hope you enjoyed this, pls feel free to tell me your thoughts about it! me personally, I'd have started throwing things in MeiMei's office, but that's just me though.

best thing i’ve ever laid eyes on in my life I LOVE FLUFF AAAAAAA

୨ৎ — .ᐟ Him ‘n his stupid infinity! [Pt.3]

—> Part 3 belonging to the series of him ‘n his stupid infinity. Refer to part 1 and part 2 for earlier parts!

╰┈➤ Gojo Satoru is once more struck with the less than ideal dilemma of his cute underclassman hating him! It seems like no matter what he does, he always remains the object of your hatred—and he doesn’t even know why! Will today be the day where he finally has a chance to reduce your hatred? And maybe find out why you hate him?

Or in which, You hate Gojo Satoru! Him and his stupid limitless technique. Why does he only turn it on around you? A mere first year. Will today be the day you get some closure? Just why is his infinity activated at the mere sight of you?

warnings: fluff, literally one line of angst, reader is in denial and gojo is head over heels, they both r very loud students, takes place in 2006, reader is so cute…even gojo thinks so!! reader is a first year, gojo is a second year. ^.^

p.s—> i really enjoyed writing this! gojo n reader r my roman empire, i need them to get together soon ☹️ also— does anybody notice how gojo’s thoughts contain less exclamation marks when he’s not arnd reader? hehe—she just brings out the whiny man in him.

“I hate the rain! I hate umbrellas! Ughhh—“ A sniffle resounded from the classroom of the third years’ classroom, “Everything is working against me! Even her!”

“It’s peaceful.” His best friend, Geto, retaliated, throwing him a questioning look over his shoulder, “Since when do you not like the rain?”

His gaze traveled over to the six full plastic bags on Gojo’s desk, seemingly filled with all kinds of candies and snacks, did his best friend buy the whole convenience store or something?

“And do these…copious amounts of snacks have anything to do with it?” He thinks he could make quite a lucky guess.

For as long as Geto Suguru has known Gojo Satoru, it was always a silent fact acknowledged between them that Gojo has always been a fan of the rain—mainly due to the fact that he can activate his infinity at will whenever the rain pelts on him too hard.

But, who else does his infinity activate at will at?

“She hates me, Suguru.” A whine left Gojo’s mouth as he squished his cheek against the cool surface of the desk, eyes tracing the trail of the rain as it stained the windows. “Even when I’m being chivalrous! She denies all of my help!”

Geto can’t help himself from rolling his eyes, though with a hint of fondness, at how you’re mentioned once more.

He can admit that their underclassman is especially charming in your own way, but Satoru’s comical whining is getting old.

No matter what the conversation is about, Gojo always finds a way to bring up his dismay about the failure of his advances towards their underclassman.

If it wasn’t so consistent, then Geto would’ve thought that it was cute.

“What? Did you push her into the rain or something?” He chuckled, throwing his dismayed friend one last look before looking back towards the window, watching the raging rain.

Gojo’s expression dropped even more at the mention, “Why do all of you say that?! I’m not a monster!” A sigh left Gojo’s lips, his glasses discarded beside him on the desk as his gaze focused on two raindrops; a distance away from eachother, despite being on the same window glass.

A small smile unconsciously perks up the corners of his glossy lips.

If he could estimate the distance between those two drops, then he would say that they’re five feet apart.

Why, though?

Man! Even rain drops hated eachother! There was no hope!

“I just don’t understand why she has to keep her distance all the time! She’s so cozy with Haibara and Nanami, even with you and Shoko—but me?” He groaned, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “Bleh! I’m trash apparently, according to her.”

Silence persisted in the classroom for a bit, granting peace and only broken by the sound of the storm outside.

Before his best friend’s laugh rang out in the otherwise empty classroom.

“Are you the reason why she came back to the dorms looking like that?”

The smile on Geto’s face was undeniably teasing, shoulders trembling with the evidence of laughter as he shook his head fondly.

“Suguruuu! Don’t laugh! Just listen—“

“I’ll be right back.” Your voice rang out in the first years’ classroom, tugging your bag off the chair as you approached the door. “And you’re not off the hook, Haibara!”

A whine followed your words, but it was quickly muffled as soon as the door to the classroom closed behind you.

A sigh left your lips, hiking your bag over your shoulder, stretching as soon as the door closed. “Man…”

As far as you knew…it is raining, and you love the rain!

Today has been a bit of a hectic day, so you were glad that you would have the time to walk on your own, peacefully, all the way to the nearby convenience store.

“Oh?”

At the, unfortunately, familiar voice, you snapped your head up, hands tightening around the strap of the bag.

“What.”

Ew. Why is this infinity activating idiot here?! Did he never have class or something? You seriously doubt he even attends his classes—based off of what Geto told you.

Does he have nothing better to do than pick on you everyday?

“And where are you going?” Gojo’s voice rang out in the empty hallway, a smug lilt to his tone as he tilted his head at you.

While he worked hard to maintain the cool and unbothered front on the outside. He was mentally cheering on the inside.

Yay! Score for Gojo Satoru!

Man, fate really liked him. I mean—why else would he be bumping into you every other day like this?

An exasperated look rested on your features, eye twitching in irritation, “I don’t think…that’s any of your business, Gojo-senpai.” You emphasized on the honorific, trying to resist the urge to just walk away and leave.

You dislike him…but, you also have to maintain respect to an upperclassman.

At the honorific, though a common thing to hear from the first years, Gojo couldn’t help but feel his heart race—feeling as if a cupid’s arrow had pierced through it. Not the bad kind this time!

Gojo is willing to hang onto any string of hope, even if your current glare was snapping the thread.

“Aw, come on! I can’t be not suspicious if my cute underclassman is leaving class in the middle of the day with her bag.” A huff left his lips, the signature pout making its way onto his lips.

What a man child!

“Are you sick?”

Your eye twitched.

“Tired?”

Your lips settled into a frown.

“Are you injured? But you had no mission today!”

Your eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Or—!”

“Enough!” A cry leaves your lips as you glare up at him, eyebrows pinched together, “I’m going to the convenience store! There! Happy?”

Silence took over, filling the hallway as they remained standing—five feet apart—with you glaring up at him, hands clutching into the strap of your bag.

Huh—why was this idiot so silent?

For Gojo, it felt like everything else you said had went through one ear and left out the other, the tinted view of you through his glasses was almost intoxicating.

The way that you had to look up at him, okay maybe you were glaring but whatever, your eyes rounded with annoyance—it was a sight that he should’ve gotten used to.

But it still managed to make his heart lurch everytime you even looked at him.

“Can I come with?” An excited exclamation left his lips, eyes sparkling as he shot you a small pleading look, “Pleaseee!”

This was definitely his chance!

“No.” So blunt!

“Why nooot? ‘promise I’ll be good company!” A whine left his lips, “Besides, it’s raining!”

…

Hah? What was this idiot on about?

You shot him a weirded out look, “Okay? Thanks? I sure couldn’t guess from the rain pelting on the classroom window.”

Gah! Now he seemed like a total idiot!

“Wait! I mean—you don’t have an umbrella!” He flailed his hands around, a panicked look setting onto his features, “I have one! Who wants to walk in the rain without an umbrella, right?” A hurried laugh slipped from him.

Was the Gojo Satoru nervous? You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

Of course he was nervous! He has one chance to make this work!

“I’ll just borrow an umbrella from Haibar—“

Oh, hell no!

“No! No—he’s like—his umbrella is probably not as functional as mine!” He spouted anything he could, trying to salvage anything that could be saved.

You raised a brow.

Huh? What? That doesn’t even make sense! No way his idiocy could reach those levels.

“That doesn’t even make sense! Your cursed energy is messing with your head or something!” You huffed, “Over my dead body will you accompany me!”

“Woooo!”

The sound of an umbrella opening echoed infront of the entrance of Jujutsu Tech, lost in the noise of the rain hitting the concrete harshly.

“Do you even want anything from the convenience store? Or are you looking for any reason to be anywhere but class?” You scoffed, crossing your arms as you watched him open the umbrella.

“You can’t keep skipping, yknow.” He skipped class way too much.

A nervous look was thrown to the storm outside, biting down on your bottom lip as you looked back at the umbrella in his hands.

How was his umbrella going to cover the both of you if you maintained the five feet rule?

Oh.

And the infinity.

Despite willing yourself to not get your hopes up, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would actually be decent this time and would keep his infinity off. No way he went through all this trouble only to have you stand in the pouring rain, right?

Gojo threw you an offended look, “Eh?— I just want to accompany my underclassman to the convenience store, like a good upperclassman would!” Before his shoulders dropped, a faux look of exasperation crossing his features.

“And I guess I could get something or two for Suguru.”

This was it! His chance to impress you and charm you away!

“It is my duty, as your faithful upperclassman, to make sure you’re safe all the time!” A charming smile perked up on his glossy lips, placing his hand over his heart in a display of chivalry.

Yaaay! He was probably looking cool as hell right now! You must totally be falling in love with him right now!

“Keep me…safe while going to the…convenience store?”

On his precious underclassman’s face was a smile, one so soft and sweet that he was afraid he would melt if he kept staring at it for too long.

your eyes carried a glint of a sparkle in them—a contrast to the gloomy weather—and Gojo always thought he had the prettiest eyes but—

He was seriously starting to doubt that now.

“That’s the dumbest thing, ever. I’m a sorcerer too, no?” You let out a small chuckle, exchanging a small glance with his glasses covered eyes.

The carrier of six eyes could pass down the title of the prettiest eyes to someone else now.

And oh—that chuckle.

His hand tightened around the handle of the umbrella, feeling a small lump form in his throat.

You shook your head, flashing him a weird look at his sudden silence, “Whatever, Gojo-senpai. Let’s just go. I don’t want to stay around you longer than necessary.”

So mean!

Tipping the umbrella forward, Gojo nodded his head towards the school doors, “After you.~”

He was being such a gentleman! Oh—how your heart must be fluttering for him right now!

“Idiot.” You scoffed.

He was such an idiot. Did he think he was in a movie or something?

A sigh left your lips, shaking your head in reply, “Don’t get me wet.” You mumbled in a warning tone, noticing how he held the umbrella at arm’s length.

A suggestive smirk flashed on his features, “Oh?~”

Your cheeks heated up, “Creep!” You huffed, walking beside him as they exited the building, protected from the rain by the shade of the umbrella above both of you.

“What a shameful excuse for an upperclassman. Good thing we have Shoko-senpai and Geto-senpa—“ You paused, noting something.

Huh…no infinity. You are…walking under the same umbrella.

Sure, you weren’t exactly standing close like you should be under an umbrella, there was some distance, but his umbrella was big enough to cover both of you even while there was a small distance between you.

!!

3 feet!

Hwaaah! They were three feet away and he didn’t activate his infinity! This was…a big achievement.

You cleared your throat, directing your gaze down as you focused on the splashes caused by your steps, pressing your lips into a straight line as you fought back the heat on your cheeks.

“Ahem…”

Confused by the sudden silence, Gojo turned his head to the side, tilting his head as he stared down at you, “Hey, yo—“

Ah?—

Gojo’s breath hitched, feeling his chest constricting as soon as he saw the absolutely bashful look on your face.

Gojo is familiar with looks of bashfulness, he’s a witness to these expressions each time a girl bounds up to him with red cheeks and a compliment. He’s not new to these looks—in fact, they’ve gotten quite old to see.

But…

Gojo thinks that a bashful look is absolutely precious on his little underclassman. It’s a sight that he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of, no matter how much he encounters it.

“What’s with the radio silence, hm? Did I finally charm you? I knew it would happen!” He slipped in a quick remark in order to save face, trying to uphold his cool front.

“What? Cat got your tongue—oh wait, my bad. I forgot you’re like a little kitten, heh.”

It had always been a wish to see you flustered because of him, to see you blush and get embarrassed by him.

He’s starting to take back his words now.

He doesn’t think it will be good for his heart if he sees the sight of you being flustered, it isn’t healthy for it to be tugging at his heart this much.

His hand tightened around the handle of the umbrella, unconsciously tilting it a bit towards you in order to shield you from the rain completely.

His precious little underclassman.

You looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat, before turning your head towards him. This seems like a good time to finally crack the question.

“Gojo-senpai…” Oh, his heart stopped at the honorific, “Why do you always—“

Everything you said went through one ear and left out the other. Fuck. His heart was racing way too much, he couldn’t focus on anything but your bashful expression and that..

Honorfic.

It was dripping with honey whenever you uttered it out.

His eyes rounded behind his glasses, a subtle red flush spreading across his cheeks. His face felt like it was on fire, the heat unbearable. It felt like this is the first time he’s been flustered.

Like the tables have been turned.

“Gojo-senpai?” Fuck. You said it again.

“Are you listening to m— Ah!”

Before either of you knew it, you felt an invisible force repel, no—force you away from Gojo, almost as if a wall had suddenly formed between you.

It quite literally felt like, instead of only forming a barrier between you as usual, it pushed you away.

“Hey—!” A panicked call left Gojo’s lips, eyes widening.

You stumbled over your feet, due to not having time to process the sudden push, a small squeak leaving your lips as you slammed down onto the floor—right on your butt. Ouch.

“Fuck—“ A hurried curse slipped past Gojo’s lips as he looked down at you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened?”

A small hiss left your lips as you felt the cold rain water pelt harshly onto your head, soaking you from head to toe in no time. Your fingers twitched, feeling the hard concrete under them.

So much for not wanting to get wet.

This…despicable man!

You kept your head down, trying to will yourself to calm down, taking a deep breath.

“Hey.” Gojo lowered his voice, brows furrowing in concern at your sudden silence. He kneeled infront of you, keeping the umbrella over him—you were already wet anyways. “What’s up? Did you hurt yourself or something? Let me see.”

At his words, your head snapped up, eyes narrowed into a glare, face contorted into an angered expression, “What’s wrong with you?!” Seriously! Did he find any of this funny?

Huh? What did you mean what was wrong with him? Is it so bad to want to check up on his junior? Arrest him then!

He huffed, tilting his head with a confused hum, “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re the one who tripped. Don’t blame it on me!” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head disapprovingly, “You really ought to stop being so clumsy.”

He internally cooed. Poor underclassman, these strong winds probably pushed you! Worry not, he’ll protect you!

You sneered. “Do you not have a single serious bone in your body?”

Was this idiot being for real? This really was not a funny joke, this was you constantly getting humiliated whenever you were around him.

This time, you would not only be humiliated, but will also get a cold! Ahh! This was so frustrating!

“Shut up! I’m not laughing! Nobody is!” You could feel the tip of your nose freezing, hair sticking to your face as the water seeping into your uniform weighed you down, a shiver running down your spine.

Seriously, why were you always so against him helping you? Your hatred for him really ran a long way, huh?

“You always do this! How hard is it to not do it? Will you die if you hold back from doing it?” You huffed.

“What are you on about? I think the rain water is getting into your brain!” A pout pulled down the corners of his lips as he looked at you, “Why would I go through all the trouble of getting you to walk with me if I was going to deliberately push you or something?”

You really weren’t making sense to him! He was only being chivalrous and helping you. What did you mean by he always does this? Be a gentleman? Duh!

A frown rested on your lips, “I don’t know? You’re so complex! You always end up doing this. What about me is so intimidating?”

Nothing. Gojo thinks that nothing about you is intimidating except for your beauty, that’s the most intimidating thing about you.

Besides, how could he ever find you intimidating when, even though you were on the ground and he was kneeling infront of you, you still had to look up at him? You were so small.

“You? Intimidating? Please. A little kitten is more intimidating than you.” He chuckled, shaking his head, a teasing smile on his lips.

Gojo thinks that’s the most precious sight he would ever grow to see in his life. He finds himself feeling bad for everyone else that never had the opportunity to view such a cute sight like you in the rain—

but, he also finds himself feeling prideful that he’s the one to see it.

He’s such a lucky bastard, no?

“Nevermind! I don’t want to go to the convenience store! What’s the use, anyways?” You retaliated, a hand raising to your head to brush away the strands of hair sticking to your face—

Gojo’s heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t approach me ever again! I’ll tell everyone at school how despicable you really are! Hmph.”

“Wait wait—what?! No! I’m the totally cool and dashing upperclassman that loves all his underclassmen—“ You the most. “And all his underclassmen love him!” Except you. And Nanami.

Bless Haibara’s soul.

You shot him an exasperated look, “Your delusions are stronger than your cursed energy.” You mumbled under your breath, breath coming out in a small cloud of air—a testament to how cold you are.

Internally, Gojo felt horrible, seeing you this cold, fighting to not shiver and your face turning red, but it was also adorable.

“Huh?! That’s so mean! Where do you store all of that hatred, huh?” He pouted, feeling an arrow strike his heart at your direct comment.

“Shut up.” You grumbled, supporting your weight on your hands as you stood up, kneeling down and picking up your drenched bag, “I knew it was wrong to trust you.”

At your words, a lump formed in Gojo’s throat, hand tightening around the handle of that stupid umbrella. He looked up at you from his kneeling position, watching you stand up and adjust your bag over your shoulder.

You always said hurtful things to him, but it resonated a lot more with him this time. Even when you hurt him with your words, you still looked as majestic as ever.

Did you ever think about how alluring you are?

“Hmph. My bad for wanting to help you!” He huffed, standing up and closing the umbrella, tucking it under his arms as he folded them, “Where’s my ‘Oh thank you, Gojo-senpai! You’re the coolest upperclassman ever!’ ?”

Your eye twitched at how he pitched up his voice, a horrible impression of you, “Go die, Gojo-senpai!”

You glared at him, before turning your back to him, walking back to the school, “I don’t want to see your face today.”

What?!— No!

“Wait—! I’m sorry!” He hurriedly followed after. He doesn’t even know what he did!

“I don’t care!” You looked at him over your shoulder, the rain falling harshly on your head, “Don’t—!” In your haste of wanting to berate him once more, you stumbled over your feet—for the second time that day.

Can you really be blamed? The concrete was wet and slippery and your wet shoes and socks weren’t doing you any justice. Plus the soaked clothes!

Gojo’s eyes widened, a panicked curse escaping his lips before—with his fast reflexes, he was the strongest after all—he stepped towards you, acting on instinct.

He hastily slid his arm around your waist, wrapping around it as his palm rested on your clothed stomach, supporting your back against his sturdy frame.

“I got you.” His tone dropped in pitch, holding you close against his chest, “Don’t worry.”

…

A small gasp left your lips, shoulders tensing up as you looked down, gaze falling on his giant palm that rested on your stomach, nearly taking up the whole circumference, your back pressed against his clothed chest, able to feel his sturdy muscles through his wet uniform.

His wet uniform…the rain is falling on him, he’s touching you…his infinity isn’t on!

You swallowed, heart stuttering in your chest, “Huh—“ You looked up at him, eyes round with shock, cheeks heating up despite the cold weather. “You’re…”

This is the first time…they’ve touched—let alone stood this close to eachother.

“You—“ He let out a staggering breath, arm tightening around your midsection, “See? I helped you..”

Gojo’s heart positively felt like it was about to burst, not only at how soft you felt under his touch, but also at the way you looked up at him.

Hair wet, looking up at him with those round eyes, filled with wonder and awe, rain water dripping down your cheeks—and most of all, the rosy tint on your cheeks that strangely matched the color on his cheeks.

Fuck. You were so cute.

His heart picked up the pace, not knowing how to react to this new overwhelming sensation he felt being this close to you.

“…” You pressed your lips together, feeling your clothes weigh you down as your stomach fluttered, “Gojo—senpai, you—!”

And of course, his body acted on his instincts, on what he knew to do best when the adrenaline rushed in.

Infinity.

A yelp left your lips as you stumbled forward, barely having the time to balance yourself and regain your footing—thankfully you managed to do it this time, and didn’t end up on you already sore bum.

You were just getting thrown around today like a damn ball! This is getting ridiculous! Can’t you get a break?!

“Huh? Is this your way of thanking me?” His annoying whine returned, gone his flustered nature and replaced with a pouting one, “Do you not feel soooo safe and protected in my arms..?”

Gah!— He just couldn’t win! Never with you!

“You jerk! You just don’t know when to stop!” You stomped your foot angrily, the water pooled on the ground splashing at your little movement.

You wholly believe he uses his technique to have fun more than he uses it to kill curses. The universe gifted the wroooong person!

“You’re so childish and you lack any type of common sense. You just enjoy getting my hopes up, huh?!” Damn him and his stupid limitless—his infinity, his six eyes!

“What hopes?! You’re the one who flips a switch all the time whenever I do something nice.” He huffs, crossing his arms, a pout on his glossy lips as he looked away.

Was being mean to him your way of denying you’re flustered? Weird. “You don’t know how to say thank you!”

You ignored how downright attractive he looked with his hair sticking to his face, wet with water and not in its usual style, “That’s because you don’t deserve it. Go die!”

You huffed, straightening your posture, before turning your back to him, stomping back to the school. You didn’t even feel hungry anymore.

Was it from the fluttering you felt in your stomach? That was probably just your stomach turning in disgust at the sight of him!

A dismayed hum left Gojo’s lips, rolling his eyes begrudgingly as he watched you walk away, “Talk about a moody underclassman, gee…” He snatched his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number.

“Heh…she looked like a soaked kitty, I should’ve snapped a pic.”

He held his flip phone to his ear, staring at his umbrella on the floor.

Huh? Why wasn’t he getting wet?

Since when did he turn on his infinity? Must be instinct as a response to the rain. He shrugged.

“Ah! Haibara! My favorite guy!” He grinned, pressing the phone to his ear, “Would you do your cool upperclassman a favor? Do you happen to know what a little moody kitty likes to eat from the convenience store?”

“Huh?— Hey— What happened?”

“Your best friend happened, Geto—senpai.” A sigh left your lips.

“Silly Satoru…what ever am I going to do with him.” A fond sigh left his lips.

“Kill him—“

“Alright alright.” He let out a small chuckle, charming, “Go to your room and change. Don’t catch a cold, ‘kay?”

He was so charming. The perfect example of an upperclassman, not like that other bastard.

Geto chuckled.

Hah…

Gojo would freak out if you got a cold, anyways.