GOJO x Female Reader (Fluff)

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬.

You knew this. Everyone knew this. But somehow, despite all the teasing, the insufferable flirting, and the constant need to push your buttons, you still ended up falling for him.

Which was stupid. Beyond stupid.

Because now, here you were—standing in the middle of your shared apartment, arms crossed, heart pounding, trying to keep yourself from murdering him.

"Say that again, Gojo." Your voice was deceptively calm.

Satoru, leaning lazily against the counter, smirked. That stupid, infuriating, heart-throbbingly attractive smirk. "I said," he drawled, adjusting his blindfold, "You're cute when you're mad."

You inhaled sharply. "That's not what you said."

"Hmm?" He tilted his head innocently. "Then what did I say?"

You clenched your fists. Oh, he knew. He definitely knew.

"You said I was being dramatic for no reason."

"...Ohhh." He dragged out the word like he was just remembering. "Well, to be fair, you kinda are."

You nearly threw a pillow at his stupid face.

"Excuse me? You were two hours late to our date, Gojo. TWO. HOURS. And you didn't even text me!"

"I got caught up with work, sweetheart."

"You were at a bakery, Satoru."

"...That's classified information."

You deadpanned. "Classified—? You literally posted it on your Instagram story with the caption 'saving the world one pastry at a time'."

Satoru grinned. "Cute, right?"

Your eye twitched.

What made it worse was that he wasn't even apologizing. No guilt. No shame. Just standing there with that ridiculous, smug expression, knowing he was getting under your skin.

You exhaled sharply. "You're impossible."

"Aww, but you love me~"

You didn't respond. Because, unfortunately, he was right.

Instead, you grabbed your purse and turned toward the door.

Satoru immediately straightened. "Wait. Where are you going?"

"Home."

"But this is your home."

"Not tonight."

That actually seemed to catch him off guard. His smirk faltered for just a second before he quickly masked it with nonchalance. "Y/N, c'mon—"

"No, Gojo." You turned back, eyes flashing. "I'm done arguing. I'm tired, and I'm pissed off, so just—just forget it, okay?"

His jaw clenched. A long silence stretched between you. Then—

"If you wanna leave, go." His voice was casual. Almost dismissive. "But don't expect me to come after you."

Your heart sank. He's not going to stop me?

You scoffed, blinking back the sting in your eyes. Fine. Two could play that game.

You opened the door and walked out.

SLAM.

Satoru stared at the closed door, his smirk fading completely.

A beat of silence. Then—

He grabbed his phone, sighed heavily, and muttered, "...She's gonna kill me for this."

Five minutes later, Gojo Satoru was outside your apartment.

You weren't expecting to hear knocking at your door five minutes after you stormed out.

Actually, scratch that.

You weren't expecting knocking. You were expecting a text. A goofy meme. A dramatic voice message. Some dumb attempt at getting you to forgive him.

What you weren't expecting was Gojo Satoru—six-foot-three, Infinity-wielding menace—standing outside your apartment, casually holding a bag of takeout like this was a normal Tuesday.

You blinked. Twice.

"...You have got to be kidding me."

Satoru grinned, pushing up his blindfold. His stupidly pretty blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "Hi, sweetheart. Miss me?"

You deadpanned. "I was gone for five minutes."

"Yeah. Worst five minutes of my life."

You almost let out a laugh. Almost. But then you remembered you were still mad at him.

With a scowl, you crossed your arms. "What do you want, Gojo?"

He raised the bag in his hand. "Brought food."

"I don't want your food."

He gasped, clutching his chest. "Blasphemy."

You rolled your eyes and started shutting the door—

Only for him to effortlessly slip his foot in.

"Satoru—"

"Y/N." His voice was teasing, but there was something pleading beneath it. "C'mon, don't be like that."

You glared. "I thought you weren't going to come after me."

Gojo grinned. "I lied."

You huffed. "Shocker."

Still, you didn't move. And neither did he. The two of you stood there, locked in a battle of stubbornness, waiting for the other to give in.

Gojo didn't look like he was budging anytime soon.

You scowled, but your irritation was starting to waver. Because, despite everything, this was Gojo. He was annoying, but he was also yours. And right now, he was looking at you like he'd follow you anywhere, even if it meant sitting outside your door like a stray cat.

You sighed. "You're a pain in the ass."

"And yet, you love me anyway." He smirked, shifting his foot. "So. Can I come in?"

You thought about slamming the door in his face.

But instead, you just sighed. "Fine."

Gojo beamed and waltzed in like he owned the place.

You narrowed your eyes. "For the record, I'm still mad at you."

"Of course." He plopped down on your couch and started unpacking the food. "So mad that you're about to forgive me."

You sat across from him, arms crossed. "Keep dreaming."

Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. "I dream about you all the time, babe."

You threw a pillow at his face.

Gojo caught it effortlessly, laughing. "There she is~"

You hated how easily he made you smile.

Still, you refused to give in completely. Not yet.

Instead, you snatched a container from the table, ignoring his triumphant smirk. "If you think this means you're off the hook, you're wrong."

"Noted."

You were about to dig in—until you realized something.

Your gaze narrowed. "Wait a minute… Is this from that bakery you ditched me for?"

Gojo choked.

Gojo Satoru had many talents.

Annoying you to death? ✔️

Using his stupidly good looks as a get-out-of-jail-free card? ✔️

Winning every argument with sheer audacity? ✔️✔️✔️

But apologizing? Actually saying the words 'I'm sorry'?

That was… rare.

Which is why you didn't expect what happened next.

Because after you caught him bringing you food from the same bakery he ditched you for, instead of dodging responsibility like he always did—

Gojo Satoru did something completely unexpected.

He set down his drink, looked you dead in the eyes, and said—

"I was wrong."

Silence.

You blinked. Twice.

"…Huh?"

"I was wrong," he repeated. "I should've just taken you with me. Should've called. Should've…" He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I dunno. Thought about how you'd feel."

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Because—what?

Was Gojo Satoru actually being… serious?

Like, full-blown, genuine, no-bullshit serious?

You stared at him, searching his face for any signs of mischief, deception, sarcasm, ANYTHING. But for once, all you saw was him.

Your heart did a weird little flip.

"I—" You swallowed. "You really mean that?"

Gojo tilted his head, his gaze soft. "Yeah."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of his words lingered, sinking into the air between you.

And then, like an idiot, you blurted out—

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?"

Gojo snorted.

Just like that, the tension shattered.

"There she is," he mused, voice warm. "Couldn't even let me be serious for five seconds, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "You're never serious for five seconds."

He smirked. "Not true. I was serious when I said you were the prettiest girl in the world."

Your face heated.

"Shut up."

"You love it."

"Shut up."

Gojo grinned. And suddenly, he wasn't just sitting across from you anymore—he was in front of you. Close enough that you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne, feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

He didn't touch you. Didn't push.

He just… waited.

Giving you the space to make the next move.

Your heart hammered.

You hated how easily he did this to you. How effortlessly he made you weak.

With a small sigh, you finally muttered—"You're lucky I love you, Gojo."

His eyes lit up.

And before you could react, his arms were around you, pulling you onto his lap, burying his face in your neck.

You squeaked. "Satoru—!"

"I knew it." His voice was muffled against your skin, grinning like an idiot. "I knew you couldn't resist me."

You groaned, pushing at his chest. "You are the most annoying man on the planet."

He hummed. "Mmm, but I'm your annoying man."

You huffed. But your hands didn't move from his chest.

Didn't push him away.

Gojo shifted, his nose grazing your jaw. "Forgive me?"

You hesitated.

Then, in a soft, almost reluctant whisper—

"…Yeah."

He kissed you before you could take it back.

Soft. Slow. Lingering.

His lips moved against yours with the kind of patience that made you ache. As if he had all the time in the world. As if he wanted to savor you, memorize you, worship you.

Your breath hitched.

Because—damn.

He tasted like candy and something sweeter. Something warm. Something that felt like home.

You barely noticed when his hands started roaming. Tracing your back, your waist, the curve of your spine. Each touch was gentle but purposeful, teasing but reverent.

And when he finally pulled back, just enough to murmur against your lips—

"I missed you, y'know."

—you shattered.

"…I missed you too."

Gojo smiled.

And then, with zero hesitation—

"Wanna make up properly?"

You stared.

"Gojo."

"Yes, angel?"

"I swear to God, if you—"

Too late. He was already carrying you to the bedroom.

—