Work Text:
you don’t think you’ve ever been this angry in your life before. but right now, while you stare at gojo in the distance, you’re absolutely seething.
and he’s not your boyfriend, and you’ve certainly rejected him a number of times already, and he’s technically a single man who owes no one loyalty, but the manicured finger that has the audacity to poke his chest as the girl before him giggles makes you want to crush the solo cup in your hand. you watch with narrowed eyes as she bats her eyelashes at him, and you can’t see his expression with his back turned to you, but you automatically assume the worst.
he must be enjoying the attention, and smoke practically steams out of your ears at the thought. this is exactly why you never give into gojo’s incessant advances—he’s a man of attention, and he revels in the limelight, and he adores all eyes on him. there was no way it would work out anyway, but a part of you is still fighting back the twitch of your eye.
she hasn’t been asked out by him numerous times, and she hasn’t had the liberty of rejecting gojo satoru over and over again, and she hasn’t ever gotten an ounce of the attention that you have from gojo, yet she has the nerve to stand there all pretty like she’s the center of his universe.
you have to fight the urge to walk up to her and splash your drink in her face.
“what’s got ya all mad?” you hear a voice speak out of nowhere, causing you to jolt as you turn to face gojo himself. glaring at him harshly, you take a step away, only for him to take one closer.
“why the hell do you think i’m mad?” you scowl.
“well, first of all,” he chuckles, “that’s a pretty angry response to a harmless question. and second of all, your fist is clenched.” this, of course, makes your fist instantly unclench, and you send him a cold stare. you don’t even know when gojo found his way over to you, but he’s the last person you want to see right now, and you certainly don’t need his little fangirl following him over.
and gojo isn’t yours. you had the opportunity multiple times and you let him down yourself, but he wants to be yours, and people should know that. maybe you both aren’t exactly working out, but it’s wildly inconsiderate of someone to overstep, and her hands don’t deserve to feel his broad chest underneath them.
there’s a hint of giddiness in his eyes, and you’re pretty sure you know why he’s giddy, and you don’t like it.
“no, it’s not gojo—”
“satoru,” he corrects with a deep groan. “i’m starting to think you’re calling me by my last name to mess with me. i told you to call me satoru.”
“satoru, go away,” you huff. he grins to himself smugly.
“don’t be mean, i left you alone all night, i deserve some attention now,” he insists, nudging your shoulder. “what’re ya drinking?” he gestures to your cup, and you roll your eyes, taking a step away from him. again, he follows.
“just sprite,” you mumble.
“‘s no fun,” he pokes your cheek. and suddenly, gojo yawns dramatically, hands stretching outwards so his arm can drape over your shoulders and pull you into his side, making you stiffen with a deep frown on your face.
you meet the eyes of the girl that was just talking to the man beside you a few moments ago, and she narrows her orbs at you, staring you down menacingly. you would’ve won the silent staring contest if it weren’t for a certain someone waving his hand in front of your face.
“would you cut it out—”
“something bothering you?” he wriggles his brows slyly, and you scoff, smacking away the hand that reaches to pinch your cheek.
“no.”
“don’t think that’s the case,” he says with a raised brow. “is someone bothering you?” he tries again, and this time, you poke his chest harshly, glaring at him with a clenched jaw. it shouldn’t bother you, you have no right to be bothered—but somehow, it really, really does.
“i knew you were no good,” you rant, finger prodding into his sturdy chest with each syllable. “you just go around basking in any attention you can get. i knew you were bad news, there’s a reason i said no to you so many times. think it’s cute to get all flirty with people just to rile me up, huh? it’s so disrespectful, satoru.” you ramble, anger evident as you speak louder with each word.
you should be mad he’s trying to play with your heart, but you’re more mad it’s working.
and gojo seems like he’s absolutely having the time of his life, grinning widely at your little outburst with amusement in his eyes. he grabs your hand and laces your fingers as you go to stab his chest with your pointer finger again, and you think you’ve changed your mind—you want to splash your drink in his face now as you take in the way he seems so enthused.
“seems to me someone is jealous, yeah?” he hums, and you try to pull away from him harshly, but his grip is too strong.
“i am sick and tired of you, gojo sator—”
“don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says softly, leaning in and pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead. it makes you still, breath hitching in your throat. the smugness is all gone as he looks at you fondly—there’s real affection in his eyes, and it’s so soft, you have to look away. “she’s not you. never.”
“you’re just saying that, dickhead,” you mumble.
“nope,” he shakes his head, large hand rubbing soothing circles onto the small of your back as he pulls you flush against his chest. “mean it. no one’s you,” he murmurs against your temple, speaking the words into your skin like they’ll be more intimate that way. and you think they are.
“you expect me to believe you didn’t like her attention?” you raise a brow, and he chuckles deeply, the vibrations rumbling from his chest that you can feel with him pressed against you.
“been waiting for your attention all night,” he grins cheekily, “now it’s finally mine.” and this time, when you meet the girl’s eyes again across the room, the mischievous part of you can’t help but be a little satisfied when you send a sly wink her way.