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Sick & Soup

GOJOXREADER! You hate Gojo. Gojo hates you. It's the way everything's always been. But when you wake up in the middle of the night desperate for something to help your aching body, Gojo being the one to help makes you rethink your distaste for one another. _________ ♫ MASTERMIND - taylor swift ❝ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ? ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴍᴇ, ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ᴍᴇ.❞

TAGS - @dottedsilktie @ophelias-fate @skadee @augaws @bruhm0mentum

When you feel that itchy feeling scratching your throat when you wake, you’ve never wanted to throw yourself out the window more.

You toss and turn in your bed as if it’s supposed to cure the discomfort, but the weight of unease presses down on you like a suffocating blanket. 

The darkness of the night feels more congested than usual, and an unshakable feeling of irritation gnaws at your insides. With a frustrated sigh, you reluctantly push aside the covers and swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

The dormitory is eerily quiet, with no quiet footsteps or words exchanged, the only sounds being the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Everyone else seems to be on a mission, leaving you alone in the silence of the night. Normally, the loneliness would be a break from the chaos Jujutsu Tech brought, but tonight it only adds to your sense of isolation.

You make your way to the kitchen, the cold tiles sending shivers up your spine—you would kill for some fuzzy socks at the moment. Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway, the sound bouncing off the walls with your faint sniffles. 

As you reach the kitchen, you rummage through the wooden cabinets in search of the medication you desperately need on tippy toes, knocking over a few bottles in the process. The darkness and thinking you could search for it without a light doesn’t help. 

“Oh thank god,” you whisper with a rasp just as you find the blue bottle, titled Bold with Ibuprofen. Pouring out a glass of water, you’re interrupted by a sudden noise that makes you freeze in place. 

Sure, you’ve had your fair share of horror films, but today, especially now, were you going to deal with something near that.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you slowly turn around, your eyes widening in alarm as you come face to face with the last person you expected to see at this hour.

"Gojo," you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. You can’t tell if it’s in relief or frustration.

He stands before you, his white hair catching the moonlight filtering in through the window. His blue eyes, normally holding mischief and arrogance, now pique a hint of curiosity as he stares you down with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you doing up so late, huh?" Gojo asks, his tone laced with amusement.

You bristle at his casual demeanor, the tension between you palpable in the air. Despite being classmates at Jujutsu Tech, you and Gojo have never seen eye to eye. His cocky attitude and reckless behavior never failed to get on your nerves, and you make no effort to hide your disdain for him.

Clearly, it worked both ways.

"I could ask you the same thing," you retort, lazily crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

Gojo chuckles, taking a step closer to you until there's a foot or two of space between you. Not to boost his enormous ego—but you can’t help but quiver at his presence. Being around him just feels suffocating, like a looming shadow threatening to engulf you whole.

"I couldn't sleep," he admits with a shrug, his voice softer now. You pick up on how it sounds, almost vulnerable? "Too much on my mind, I guess."

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief and scoff at his words. You refuse to let your guard down despite the sincerity in his tone. 

You've learned the hard way not to trust someone like Gojo, someone who thrives on chaos and unpredictability.

"Well, that's your problem, isn't it?" you snap, turning away from him to hide the unease flickering in your eyes. 

You pick up the cup, swallowing the blue pill before drinking a mouth full of water. Turning around to put the glass into the sink, you ignore the blue-eyed male, slightly brushing shoulders with him. As much as you hate his presence, the feeling of his eyes watching you is worse.

You can feel the air between the both of you crackling with some type of tension as you avoid his gaze, hoping he'll take the hint and leave you alone. But to your dismay, he doesn't budge, his curiosity only growing stronger with each passing moment.

"Come on, seriously, what are you doing up?" Gojo persists, leaning down to get closer to you, insisting on getting an answer.

He wasn’t stupid, he could probably pick up a hint or two from the pill you just swallowed. But of course, it’s Gojo, he would never just let you off without his snarky remarks.

You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as you struggle to keep your composure. "I told you, I couldn't sleep. Is that such a crime?"

Gojo's eyes narrow slightly, a grin sneaking upon his lips. He knows his teasing is working, and you hate how you’re feeding into it. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to dignify his accusation with a response. But Gojo is relentless, his persistence wearing down your defenses like waves against a stubborn rock.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks suddenly, his tone softening as peers over your shoulder, watching you clean the cup with soap and a sponge.

You pause your movements, caught off guard by, what seems to be, concern in his voice. "I'm fine," you mutter, brushing off his question with a dismissive wave of your hand.

But Gojo isn't convinced, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of weakness. "You don't look fine," he observes, his brow furrowing. "You look more pale than usual, and you're trembling. Are you,” he pauses, gaze attentively looking over you again. “—sick?"

You bite back a retort, unable to deny the truth of his words. Despite your best efforts to hide it, the stillness of your body gives away the answer to him without words. 

"What's the matter, little Miss Perfect? Catch a cold from all that attitude?" Gojo taunts, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

You let out a huff of annoyance, swallowing back the retort that threatens to spill from your lips as you scrub the already clean cup harder. You try and block his presence out, but it’s seemingly impossible.

You know your silence doesn’t help you with his mocking, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your cool again, even if his incessant teasing is enough to make you want to scream.

Rinsing the cup, you dry it off with the nearest towel, trying hard not to give in and smack him straight with it. You can’t hold back your words when you hear his deafening laugh as you put the cup away. 

"What's this?" you demand, turning around to face Gojo, who now leans against the counter with a smirk on his face. "Why are you still here?” you voice, glaring at him as you continue. 

“I mean, don’t you have better things do to than just pester me? Is that seriously how boring your life is? I’m starting to be convinced you’re worrying about me.”

Gojo chuckles a second time, his laughter ringing out against the walls. "Please, like I'd waste my time worrying about you," he scoffs, his tone present with disdain. "I just thought you might want some company since you're too weak to take care of yourself."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much," you snap while taking a breath.

But Gojo just shakes his head, his grin widening into a deeper smirk. "Sure you are," he says, his tone mocking. "Which is why you're up at the crack of dawn, looking like death warmed over."

You open your mouth to fire back a insult, but before you can get a word out, Gojo interrupts you with a wave of his hand. "Enough chit-chat," he declares, his tone surprisingly authoritative compared to his childish personality. “Sit. Stay."

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. "Excuse me?" you sputter, too shocked to form a coherent response. You’re not a little kid, and you’re definitely not one to be ordered around.

But Gojo just nods towards the couch, his expression leaving no room for argument. "Sit," he repeats, his voice firm.

With a begrudging sigh, you do as he says, sinking onto the couch with a exaggerated sigh. Arms across your chest, you watch in bemusement as Gojo disappears into the kitchen, his movements loud and purposeful as he now rummages through the cabinets.

All you can hear is the clatter of pots and pans, punctuated by the occasional curse word muttered under Gojo's breath.

When a few minutes go by, you can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity as you wonder what he's up to, but before you can investigate further, Gojo emerges from the kitchen with a steaming bowl of soup in one hand and, a spoon in the other.

"Here," he says, thrusting the bowl and a spoon into your hands. "Eat this."

You blink in surprise, too taken aback by his unexpected gesture to formulate a response. Gojo just watches you expectantly, his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for your reaction.

With one last hesitant gaze at him, you take a sip of the soup, the warmth immediately spreading through your body like a comforting embrace.  It's delicious, and for a moment, you forget all about the animosity that usually exists between you and Gojo.

"Thank you,” you murmur, your voice soft but still heard enough to pick up the gratitude that comes from your words. 

Gojo shrugs, you don’t know if it’s the moonlight playing tricks on you—a faint blush colors his cheeks as he looks away. "Don't mention it," he mumbles, suddenly bashful.

You take another spoonful of soup, the cozy feeling spreading through your body and easing some of the discomfort you've been feeling. But as you do, the weight of Gojo's unexpected kindness hangs heavy in the air, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions inside you.

Despite the warmth of the soup and the comfort of the moment, you can't shake the resentment that still lingers between you and Gojo. Your hate for him runs a little deeper than some soup. 

"I still hate you, you know," you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than to Gojo.

But he hears you loud and clear, his expression shifting from bashful to contemplative as he regards you with a thoughtful gaze. "I know," he replies simply, his voice surprisingly gentle.

There's a brief moment of silence between the two of you. But then, it’s interrupted unexpectedly as Gojo lets out a soft chuckle, his laughter echoing off the walls of the dormitory.

"Well, lucky for you, my soup has magical healing powers," he jokes, flashing you a playful grin.

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress the small smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that," you retort, your tone teasing despite yourself.

Neither of you seems to know quite what to say, so you both fall into a comfortable silence, the only sound filling the room the soft clinking of utensils against bowls as you eat and his occasional heavy breaths.

As you finish the last spoonful of soup, you set the empty bowl down on the coffee table. That icky feeling in your throat is now gone but replaced with a strange mix of gratitude and confusion swirling inside you. 

Gojo wordlessly takes the bowl from you and carries it to the kitchen, his movements fluid and silent. You watch him go, feeling a pang of guilt tug at your conscience.

You try your best to maintain your animosity towards him, but his unexpected sincerity has left you feeling unsettled; and unkept. You don’t like it, at all.

When Gojo returns from the kitchen, he catches your eye and gives a small nod towards the hallway. 

It's a silent invitation, a gesture of understanding, that the both of you could hate each other later. But for now, you can just pretend. 

Nodding in response, silently grateful for him taking the push and making the first move. You push yourself up from the couch, and within a few seconds, you find yourself falling into step beside Gojo as you both make your way down the dimly lit hallway.

The silence between you is comfortable, the tension of earlier dissipating with each step you take, shoulders coming close to touching.  You can’t help but steal a glance at him, noticing the way the moonlight filters through the window, casting soft shadows across his features.

For the first time, you find yourself seeing him—not as the arrogant troublemaker you’ve always known him to be, but as a person, flawed and complex, just like you. That this is him. No stupid glasses, no stupid grin, no stupid remarks.

As you reach the end of the hallway, Gojo slows his pace, coming to a stop in front of your room. He turns to you, his expression unreadable within the dark corridors. 

The soft glow of the light spills through the window, casting a gentle illumination over the hallway, enveloping you both in its ethereal embrace. There's a moment of quiet stillness between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

You turn to face Gojo, intending to express your gratitude for his unexpected kindness. But as you open your mouth to speak, the words get caught in your throat, your voice failing you when you need it most. 

Instead, you find yourself simply staring at him, truly captivated by the way the light dances across his features, casting shadows and highlights that only serve to accentuate his natural charm.

Gojo's gaze meets yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. His blue eyes, ones that you resent to gaze at for too long— now hold a depth of emotion that makes you lose any sense of voice. 

In the silence of the night, you find yourself lost in his eyes, forgetting everything else but the brief connection that exists between you tonight. 

As the seconds tick by, neither of you says a word, as if content to simply bask in the warmth of each other's presence. You find your eyes trailing to the illumination that catches the strands of Gojo's white hair; ones that look soft to the touch.

Maybe Satoru Gojo isn’t all that bad.

His gaze lingers on your face, his eyes tracing the delicate curve of your lips for a brief moment. It's a subtle gesture, one that goes unnoticed by anyone but the two of you, but it sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

You feel your breathe stop as you catch the fleeting glance, your heart pounding in your chest as you wonder if perhaps, just maybe, there’s something more between you and Gojo than just petty distaste.

Maybe you had it wrong all this time.

For a moment, it feels as though time slows to a crawl as you wait with bated breath, half-expecting Gojo to lean in and close the distance between you.

But just as quickly as the moment comes, it passes, and Gojo takes a small step back, his expression unreadable as he breaks the trance you find yourself both in. 

You watch him closely, unable to tear your stare away from his face as you search for any sign of what he might be feeling. But Gojo's mask is firmly in place, keeping you from knowing his true intentions. 

You’re left with nothing but questions and the memory of that brief, thrilling moment between you.

But before you can dwell on the thought any longer, the sound of approaching footsteps as you both realize where you are, that it’s not just the both of you. With a start, you turn away from Gojo, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over you.

"Mm, thank you," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you glance back at him over your shoulder.

Gojo offers you a small smile, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he nods in response. "Anytime," he replies softly, his voice warm with sincerity.

And with that, you turn back to your door, the moment between you and Gojo fading into the past. 

With a shaky exhale, you feel a flush of embarrassment color your cheeks as you try to shake off the moment. It was in the heat of the moment, you try and convince yourself. 

But as you slip into your room and close the door behind you, you can't help but wonder what might have been if Gojo had chosen to act on his impulses. Would you have kissed him back? Would you have liked it? 

No, of course not. Why would you? The only real reason why you might even consider kissing him back was to get him sick, to get him back. 

Right?

AUTHORS NOTE! - pretty pls request stuff !! love to hear what you guys want me to write / gives me motivation and inspiration ᰔᩚ

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