nia-jul - Tumblr blog

nia-jul · 3 months

Text

TRUTH OR DARE

You and Gojo are constantly in battle at the top of your classes. The tension that always seems to surround you comes to head at a party

Academic rivals, enemies to lovers, a little mature but nothing too bad

——————————————————————

You wonder how much trouble you’ll be in if you kill Satoru Gojo.

It’s something you think about often, despite how wrong you know the violent thoughts tend to be. You imagine reaching over in English, where he sits directly in front of you, and throttling his neck, right before the dip of his collarbone, the paleness of his smooth skin blooming under your palms.

Of course, you haven’t always been like this. At every school you’ve been to, your need for academic validation drove you to the top of your classes and that was where it ended. There was no competition. You were, as vain as it sounded, the smartest, and you always had been. There’d never really been much competition, and you’d loved your position at the top.

That all changed when you started at Jujutsu High School.

It had been after your first History exam. For the most part, you’d kept your head down, made a few friends. You hadn’t spoken to most people, but you didn’t mind the lack of attention. It was after your teacher had passed back your exams, a beaming smile on his face as he passed you the paper with a bright red ‘99%’, that he’d turned around.

The first thing you noticed was his bright blue eyes. They seemed to bore into you as they fell on your face, flitting over your features, before falling on your paper. You sneak a glance at his, and catch the ‘97%’ before he shifts it out of your eyeline. The next thing you notice is how unfortunately attractive he is, even as his face contorts into a sneer.

“You beat me?” His voice is low, as if he’s scared for anyone else to hear.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He scoffed. “Well, don’t get used to it. Me not being first isn’t a very common occurrence around here.”

You’d been annoyed enough at his cockiness that you’d snarled back, “I wasn’t ‘around here’ before. We’ll see if you stay first. If my 99% is anything to go by, you probably won’t.”

Sure, maybe you could’ve been mature and not fall for his obvious ploy to taunt you. But self-control was not one of your strong points, and it seemed to get even worse around him. Your snipe back seemed to have introduced a back and forth between the two of you.

Every test, every project, the two of you were fighting for the top place. He’d beat you in a maths paper, and you ran for longer during the bleep test. Gojo drove you to revise harder, spend more time holed up in the library, if only to get one step further. Not only that, but he loved to taunt you. How you’d tie your hair, the way you’d colour code all your notes. Any little thing to spike your blood pressure. Gojo would grin, mouth turning up at the corners, eyes boring into yours, his stupid perfect, soft hair falling into his eyes, laughing in that stupid way he did.

Today, his annoying laugh infiltrates your ears as he brandishes your latest English essay, that had received a smiley face. Which, from Mr Choy, was no easy feat. The max praise he dished out was a nod, imperceptible at best. As if that wasn’t bad enough, this was English. Your subject, the one you’d always been best at, everywhere. He couldn't get this as well.

“Look. Right under my A+, a beautiful smiley face. This must be due to my academic prowess.” He grins.

He leans over his chair to your desk, where he points at your paper, which is very obviously void of any emoticons. The scent of his cologne, something piney and expensive, infiltrates your nose, and you want to shove him away.

“Huh. That’s funny. Yours doesn’t have one.” He pouts, tilting his head in fake sympathy.

“Shut up, Gojo.”

“Wow. Remarkable response. I see why I’m better at English than you.”

You splutter, snatching your paper from under his eyes,“You’re not better at English than me.”

His fingers drum over the paper. “You sure?”

You decide to ignore him. You turn your attention to the two girls besides you who are talking about Sukuna’s party. You were invited, but you weren’t really sure if you’d go yet. Parties weren’t exactly the funnest thing in the world. All sweaty teenagers and alcohol.

Gojo must see you watching them because he, of course, has to chime in.

“Are you going to Sukuna’s?”

“I might.”

“Were you even invited?”

You cross your arms over your chest, a spike of irritation travelling up your spine.

“Yes, I was invited.”

Gojo makes a face then, like it’s the most unbelievable thing that could happen on planet earth.

“Is that a surprise to you?”

He shrugs, and turns back around. “I didn’t think parties were your thing.”

“You don’t know what my thing is.”

He turns back around. A slant of light catches on his face, maybe his eyes seem impossibly bluer as they focus on you. You turn your gaze down, to avoid the sheer scrunity you’re under.

“I think I could guess. Friday night holed up in a library or your house with a stack of books? Even the thought of alcohol sending you into a shock?” He clutched a hand to his chest.

“Fuck off.” Gojo winces at your tone.

“God. You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Gojo nods slowly, patting your hand, which you snatch away. “It’s okay. I know all that studying doesn’t leave time for love.”

“Well. I don’t have a boyfriend but that doesn’t mean I’m not seeing anyone.”

You don’t know why you said that. You’re definitely not seeing anyone right now. You’d only been at Jujutsu high for about two months. You could count the boys at this school you’d spoken to on one hand. But Gojo didn’t need to know that.

And it was the right decision. Because upon hearing your words, Gojo looks… Weird. His face sort of freezes slightly, and you’re sure he’s clenching his jaw by how a muscle suddenly clenches in it. But the surprise is gone as quickly as it arrived, and he blinks back to his normal, unbothered expression.

“Really? Who?”

“Don’t think that’s any of your buisness.”

“Whatever. Doubt it’ll last anyways.” He says it with a curl of disgust that has you frowning.

“Just turn around, you dick.”

“Okay. But not because you told me to.”

So infuriating. His cocky, self-assured nature is why you decide that lunchtime you are definitely going to Sukuna’s party.

You make this decision with Shoko. She’s probably the closest friend you’d made since you got here. Despite the fact that Gojo, her and the other boy that hung around them were all best friends. She listened to your rants about how insufferable Gojo was, and how much you wanted to throttle him with enough enthusiasm to keep you going. She was also under the impression you liked him, but you ignored those comments.

“You should’ve heard him, Shoko. Like I was disgusting, or something. God, he’s so annoying.” You shout the last sentence in your palms which are covering your face.

Shoko grins, popping a bubble with the nicotine gum she’d started chewing. You knew her no smoking wouldn’t last. She went through this every couple weeks, at your incessant nagging.

“Who gives a shit what he says? He’s never had a girlfriend before.”

Your mouth drops open a little. He’s definitely attractive enough to get a girlfriend. It must be his abhorrent personality that stops him. You don’t realise you said that out loud until Shoko raises an eyebrow.

“You think he’s attractive?” She coos, fanning her face dramatically.

“Shut up. What are you gonna wear?”

You spend the rest of your lunch discussing outfits and making Shoko promise not to leave you alone while you’re there, which she begrudgingly does, after your promise to buy her more gum.

———-

Upon walking into Sukuna’s house, you realise exactly why you don’t go to parties.

The atmosphere is thick with the stench of alcohol, and the music is loud enough you feel it beating in your chest. Shoko had insisted the two of you arrive fashionably late, so you’d avoid the awkward first part of the party before any alcohol had started working its way through peoples systems and broken the tension. You’d taken a couple shots at her house, as she swiped something glittery across your eyelids, and the drinks were warming the inside of your stomach.

Shoko’s hand is clasped around your wrist as she pulls you through the house. You feel eyes lingering on you. It’s the first time anyone at school has seen you in anything but the uniform. You’re wearing a short black dress, the expanse of your legs and probably a little too much of your chest out on display. You’d also rubbed some of this weird glittery stuff Shoko had in her house all over yourself, so you were sort of glinting under the lights. You didn’t mind the stares too much. It was ego boosting if anything.

You arrive in the furthest room, where the majority of your classmates have congregated. You see Sukuna, Uraume, who hangs off his arm, and who you think are Mahito and Choso, lounging on the couch. Sukuna is attractive. Muscular arms and pink hair that the school’s incessant nagging hadn’t affected. He was hot in a hes-no-good-for-me type of way, and you look away quickly when he locks eyes with you across the room. You see other gaggles of groups, even surprisingly Sukuna’s younger brother, Yuji, whos laughing with a dark-haired boy and a girl who sort of looks like Shoko.

The girl in mention takes you to one corner, where Gojo and his friend are in animated conversation. The former immediately stops talking upon your arrival. His eyes travel up your body, lingering on your legs, your chest, before they rest on your eyes. He doesn’t greet you, just looks away. Which is a shame, because the black button down and trousers hes wearing, paired with the silver chain that dangles from his neck, look disgustingly good on him. The boy next to him, on the other hand, smirks in a way that should be illegal, and extends a hand.

“Hi. I’m Geto, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

His voice can only be described as silk, smooth and rumbling from deep in his chest. You don’t even think about how it’s kind of weird he’s asking to shake your hand. You just reach out, shake it, and hope the flush you feel on your cheeks isn’t visible. You tell him your name, and a more mischievous grin break out across his face.

“Hey wait, I know you. You’re the girl Satoru always talks about!”

Gojo turns, suddenly. “Suguru-”

“Oh, really?” You grin at Gojo, “What does he say about me?”

“He’s always complaining when you beat him in class, or when you say something snarky to him, which I find quite funny. Just today he was hating on the fact you got a bo- Ow!”

He’s cut off by a sharp elbow in his gut. Gojo’s clenching his jaw, a look so murderous on his face you let out at laugh. Its much less funny when he aims it at you.

“Shut up. I’m getting a drink.” He points at Geto. “You. Don‘t speak while I'm gone.”

You give it a minute before you follow Gojo to the kitchen, telling Shoko you’re getting your own drink. You ignore the knowing look on her face. He’s leaning against the counter when you walk in, and you try ignore his eyes on your back as you survey the options of drinks. You end up pouring coke and an alarming amount of vodka in a red cup.

“Woah. Careful there. You don’t want to have too much fun, now. You might ditch your academia and become a party girl.”

You fake a laugh. “I know you’d love to see me drunk. It’d give you more stuff to talk to Geto about, right?”

You grin as his smile drops.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I don’t know. It really sounded like he did. What, are you obsessed with me or something?” You sigh, pressing a hand to your heart. “I’m flattered, really.”

Gojo doesn’t move for a second. Then he gets up, walks towards you.

“Do you want me to be?”

“W-what?” You stutter out a laugh.

He’s close enough that you back up into the counter. He doesn’t stop moving though, until he’s right in front of you. He rests his palms on the table behind you. Your breath pauses, a flush rising in your cheeks. You think you should push him away, because the scent of him is overwhelming, and his height is allowing him to tower over you. But you can’t. Even though you loathe him you can’t step away from him.

He leans lower, and his face is so close your lips are almost touching. You’re faintly aware of the people talking outside and how this must look if they walked in.

“Do you want me to be obsessed with you? To think about you when I’m in my room.”

His lips almost touch yours as he speaks. He moves to the side, now talking right into your ear.

“At night, when I’m alone. When I’m hot and I’m bothered and-“

Someone goes to open the kitchen door and the moment is broke. You push him off you, grab your drink and storm out the room before anyone catches you flustered at his hands.

What is his deal? Acting like- Acting like that. In public. Where anyone could of walked in, and seen how close you two were to kissing. Not that you want to kiss him. You don’t like Gojo, not like that. Not even as a friend.

It’s not like you think about him all the time. Only when you’re studying, because of course you need to focus your efforts on beating him. Or whenever you’re in class, because his white head is the only thing in your eyeline. Or whenever you see something blue.

But it’s not like you imagine kissing him. Or notice any of those details about him. Only when he looks at you. Really looks at you, like in class earlier that day, like he did in the kitchen.

Oh.

Shit.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Mahito suddenly shoots up from the couch. He’s energetic in an annoying way, always laughing and pissing someone off. You keep your distance. He announces that you’re going to play Truth or dare. The room pauses, unsure of how to react. Most of them look to Sukuna to see his reaction. He looks quite excited about it though.

“Isn’t that kind of childish? We aren’t 12.” Mako speaks up from across the room.

“Piss off, Maki. Don’t play then.” Her sister, Mai, says.

They’re both opposites, one dressed in a tight dress and the other jeans. They both sit on the floor in a circle, anyway. The rest of the group follows. Shoko sits next to you and you desperately avoid eye contact with Gojo, who has sat directly in front of you. Shoko noticed the tension and whisper to whisper in your ear.

“Is there something going on with you and Gojo?”

“No. Nothing.”

“You sure? You look kinda flushed.”

“Shut up.”

You shove her as she laughs. You parented you can’t feel someone staring right into you.

The game goes smoothly at the start. A couple dares to eat something disgusting, a few kisses. truths which lead to confessions, some to arguments. The circle shuffles as two people leave (most likely to make out) and you find yourself next to Sukuna. He nods at you and you give him a smile.

“Hiya.”

“Hello.” His voice is deep, gravelly.

“Nice party.”

“Thanks. My parents are definitely going to love the stench of alcohol in our carpets.”

You laugh and he grins. It makes him look awfully like his brother.

“You know, I’m surprised you invited your brother. I would have locked my sister in her room if she asked to come to a party I was throwing.” You marvel, nodding at the boy in question.

“Yeah, he begged me. And I owe him. Left him outside in the rain last week because I forgot to pick him up.” He shakes his head. “It was invite him or he told our parents.”

“He’s sweet, though. Other than the blackmail. Showed me around on my first day.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Of course he did. Ever the goody-two shoes. Teachers love him.”

“They don’t love you then?” You smile.

“Nah. I’m not the best behaved.” He grins again, and it stops looking cute like Yuji’s smile and turns into something much more troublesome.

“Mhm. I see how that’d get on their nerves.”

He stretches slightly, and his shirt rides up his arm, and you see a tattoo.

“Woah. That looks cool.” Your fingers graze them lightly.

You realise the alcohol you’d been slowly drinking has made you much braver than usual. You dont think Sukuna minds. You’re well aware of him flexing his biceps for you. What a show off.

“Thanks. Did them when I was sixteen.” He sounds wistful.

“You make it sound like it was ages ago.”

He shrugs.”Feels like it. I don’t regret them, but they don’t make getting a job any easier.”

“Are we going to keep playing, or what?”

Gojo’s voice cuts across the room, and everyone immediately sits back down. It’s not his party, evident by the sour expression on Sukuna’s face, but everyone just listens to Gojo. He has a weird sort of control over everyone. Even though he was a nerd, smart and perfect at every subject, every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him.

You meet his eyes across the room and his face is thunderous. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, but he just looks away.

“Okay, my turn!” Shoko grins. There’s a cigarette in her mouth and you sigh at its presence.

The game is simple. Spin the bottle in the middle, and whoever it lands on gets asked a truth or dare. You had not been picked yet. It’s why you’re not paying much attention when the bottle lands on you. Shoko woops, and Sukuna nudges your shoulder.

“Lucky you.”

“Not lucky at all. Look at her face. I’m fucked.” You wince at the expression Shoko is pulling.

“Truth or dare.”

“Uhm. Truth?”

Sukuna boos. “Come on, be fun. Pick dare.”

You whine. “But she’s so mean.”

“Come on.” He drags out his syllables, and you groan.

“Okay fine, fine.”

“Good girl.” He murmurs. You flush slightly and he turns to the rest of your peers.

“She picks dare.” He holds your arm up in the air and you laugh.

Shoko pauses. Thinks. You see her glance at Gojo, just for a second, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest.

“I dare you. To have seven minutes in heaven. Or in seven minute in a pantry, whatever’s available.”

Oh, god.

“With Sukuna.”

Oh.

Cheers erupt from your friends. Someone whistles, and Sukuna just smiles. He offers you his hand, and you take it, a furious red covering your face. You see Gojo for one second before he leads you to his pantry, and he looks like he’s about to kill someone.

Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe. Why else would he be so angry?

Sukuna shuts the door, and you feel the awkwardness the second he does. You don’t know if you expect him to kiss you, or if he expects you to kiss him. You don’t really want to, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“So.” He says.

“Uh. I like your pantry.”

He pauses for a second. And then bursts out laughing. You cover your face with your hands, cursing Shoko under you breath.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I don’t know why she did this.” You groan.

“It’s cool. It’s because of Gojo, right?”

You pause. Other people were aware of your crush? You’d only just found out a couple minutes ago.

“I- What do you mean? What about him?”

“I mean, you like him, right? And he likes you”

“Really? Do you think so? That he likes me?”

Sukuna smiles at you again, and you’re suddenly very glad he wasn’t some dick who was going to try and force himself on you. You were surprised. He looked much meaner around school than he was being right now.

“Duh. He looked like he was gonna kill me just ‘cause we were talking. And i saw you guys in the kitchen getting all freaky.” He snorts at you embarrassed face.

“Okay, we weren't getting freaky. And also, i didn’t even realise I liked him until today.”

You're both leaning against opposite sides of the wall. You thump your head against it, groaning.

“I don’t know what to do. We spend every minute arguing, i don’t even know how I’d tell him”

Sukuna ponders it for a moment. “You wanna make him jealous?”

You probably shouldn’t. You’d seen the look on his face when you just spoke to Sukuna. If that look was actually aimed at you. You couldn’t be sure. It would be best to find out. Definitely the smartest, most logical solution.

“Okay. Sure. But, i don't think i want to-”

“Its okay.” Sukuna holds up a hand.

He ruffles a hand through his hair, and starts biting his lips. Oh. You get his drift, and do the same. You ruffle your own hair, smear the lipgloss on your lips across your face.

“Wait, come here.” You pull him towards you and press your glossy fingers to his chin.

Sukuna is cool. In another world, maybe you would’ve ended up with him.

The two of you collect yourself (or pretend to) and open the door. You find that the Truth or Dare circle has split, and everyone has split back into their groups. You search for Gojo, and you catch him across the room, staring at you. He looks at your messed up gloss, Sukuna’s ruffled hair. The muscle in his jaw clicks, and he turns away.

And then nothing.

Sukuna winces next to you. “Yikes. Sorry about that.”

“It's fine. Thanks for the help.” Sukuna nods once, then walks off.

God. You don’t know what you expected. For him to barge in and rip you and Sukuna apart, then kiss you? It was stupid. You were stupid to even think about acting on your stupid crush.

You decide to go outside to get some fresh air. You go out the front door, away from the backyard smokers. The sky is clear and it’s cold, but you can’t bring yourself to go back inside to get your coat. You just watch the stars and think about how the hell you’ll get over this.

Maybe let him beat you in a couple tests. He’ll get his ego boost and lose any expectations that you’d ever beat him again and leave you alone.

The door behind you opens and slams shut. You turn around, hands rubbing at the goosebumps on your arms. It’s Gojo.

“What the hell was that?”

He walks out and stands in front of you. This isn’t like before though. There’s no tension, just his anger.

“What- What are you on about, Gojo?”

He laughs, mirthless and sarcastic. “God, don’t give me that. You were practically throwing yourself at Sukuna the whole time we were in there.”

“I- There’s-“

“Touching his arm, fucking doing, I don’t know, whatever the hell you were doing in that closet.”

You cross your arms, frowning. “Whatever the hell I was doing in there is none of your concern.”

“It- God, you’re so difficult. Did you know that?”

You could hit him. Really just slap him across the face.

“Me? I’m the difficult one? I’m not the one pressing up against you in the middle of the kitchen and simultaneously tormenting you every day.”

“I don’t torment you.”

“Yes you do.”

Gojo takes a step closer to you. You want to take one back but you let the distance between you two get smaller.

“I torment you because you drive me mad.”

“Why? What do I do to drive you mad?” You say, voice carrying out into the empty front porch.

“You just do. God, it’s like you don’t know how fucking gorgeous you look all the time. When you’re working out a question and you bite your lip. How smart you are, almost as smart as me. The way you just challenge me all the time and it’s all I can do not to kiss you to get you to shut the fuck up.”

You mouth moves but no words come out.

“Yeah, just like that. Silent.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“And then you walk in here with the stupid dress. Your legs and your tits fucking glowing in the lights. And then you’re flirting with Geto and throwing yourself at Sukuna.”

He’s even closer now. Just like in the kitchen, except this time there’s no people searching for alcohol to interrupt you.

“And then you were in that pantry and I nearly broke the door down. And you walk out, and you have that expression on your face. Hair all messed up.” He runs his fingers through your hair.

“Your lip gloss all ruined.” He drags them over your lips. His thumb dips into your mouth and he lets out a shaky breath as your lips close around it.

“Hell, I could’ve fucked you right there.”

Before you can think about it, your hands curl into the collar of his shirt, and you pull him down and kiss him.

Gojo freezes for a second before he moans into your mouth. He returns the kiss with fervour, lips slotting against yours messily. Like everything the two of you do, you’re fighting. He pushes, you push harder. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. He grins against you, tongue licking against your teeth and your gums. He moves from your mouth to your jaw. The part where your neck meets your shoulder. He sucks marks onto your neck and they bloom onto your skin. You moan. Your hand card through his hair, and it’s just as soft as you always thought it’d be.

You moan his name, and he shakes his head.

“No. No, Satoru. Say it, say my name.”

“S-Satoru.” You whisper, and he shudders.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

He hikes one of your legs up by his waist. Your dress slips up your thighs and you feel the heat rising up your neck. He uses your free hand to grip at your chest, mouth still working its way down your body.

“God, you taste so good.” He says in between kisses.

“Shut up..” You breathe out, head thrown back against the wall.

He stops then. Gojo looks you in the eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Really? You want me to stop?”

You roll your eyes. “No, idiot. I want you to keep kissing me, I want you to stop talking.”

He hums under his breath. His lips are swollen and red, and he looks so good you reach forward for him again. But he stops you.

“No. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I don’t want to do that.” You say.

“Come on. Use that beautiful brain of yours.”

You sigh.

“Please.” Your voice is flat and he laughs.

“Ah, you can do better than that.”

You roll your eyes at his smug face. He’s got you pushed against a wall, dress hiked up your thighs, and he’s got the nerve to be asking you to ask for things.

“Please, Gojo, please oh please will you kiss me. Your lips are all I think about, all I dream about-“

He cuts off your rambling by fulfilling your wish. You moan into his mouth, your palms sliding down his chest. He pulls back slightly, kisses your jaw, then your chin.

“See. So much prettier when you just stop talking.” He tilts his head and you roll your eyes.

“Fuck off. I could say the same about you.”

He hums. His fingers trail down, down past your stomach and your thighs. They slip under your dress and your breath catches as he grins something devilish.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fuck the attitude out of you.”

——————————————————————

If you love enemies to lovers (specifically academic) PLEASE read all of Ann liangs books they r incredible!

#fluff #oneshot #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #sukuna x reader #mature #enemies to lovers #high school #highschool au #jealousy #gojo smut #gojo x y/n

175 notes · View notes

nia-jul · 3 months

Text

sometimes the world wasn't always so bleak just as not all days in gotham were horrible. jason was a firm believer that he was cursed, and that there was no good outcome for his life. besides the occasional lives he saved, why did he exist? he knew he was no hero, and no matter what he still felt as if he had no place where he belonged. and he lived his life under those beliefs for so long until he met you.

there was something about you that was so intoxicating when you two first met. you were walking home from a long shift and some guy was following you. it wasn't the first time and you knew it wouldn't be the last. as the guy grabbed your shoulder you turned around and tased him. yes, you had a taser, you weren't an idiot, you lived in gotham and walked home around 9 pm.

"nice job princess, do you tase all the guys that try and help you?"

you had now realized that you were not being followed any longer because it seemed that jason had taken care of it. the guy you believed was following you was now tied to a lamppost. jason had planned to approach you to ask if you needed any help once he noticed you looked a bit nervous. but instead, you mistakened him for the guy who had been following you and sadly faced your wrath.

you looked at him in embarrassment and horror while he was slightly leaning on you with his arm around his stomach. "o-oh god! i'm so so sooo sorry! he was going to- i thought you were- i swear i'm not a criminal!!" you put your hands up in the air, jokingly.

jason looked up at you, and just for a second his eyes met yours. and then out of nowhere jason started laughing, he didn't know why but he just did. maybe it was because he just got tased or because he wanted to cover up the overwhelming heartbeat in his chest. and when he thought he was done and finally looked up at you again you were laughing too.

you had lost your composure and was now bursting out into giggles. there was something about the way you laughed and your little smile "i'm sooooo sorry i swear but c'mon this is a little funny right? you were laughing too!"

jason isn't entirely sure if that was the moment you shattered all his beliefs. he's not even sure how you did it but he knows that after that day he was never the same.

❥ a/n: I'm feeling a bit low, so I thought I'd post this from my drafts for you guys. also should I make this a blurb/drabble series???

675 notes · View notes

nia-jul · 3 months

Text

WET CIGARETTES

Gojo Satoru, your prettiest customer, insists on ordering the most insane drinks possible. As a barista, it’s your duty to fullfill them.

alternate!universe, fluff, happy ending

(This is a long one guys 🙈)

——————————————————————

You love your job. The truth is, the people who romanticise working at a coffee shop were exactly right. Yes, the hours can be long, and the occasional Karen can turn what should be a five-minute interaction into a half an hour one. And sometimes you go home with burns from a hot coffee pot, or spills on your favourite trousers. But you love every part of your job.

Except for Gojo Satoru.

Your most troublesome customer. You know he goes to your university, because you’ve seen him wearing a hoodie with its logo on it. You assume you both have different majors, because you don’t cross paths at all.

But he comes to the shop every day without fail. And he orders the most complicated, diabetes-inducing drinks known to man. He strolls up to the counter, blinking those bright blue eyes at you, with his perfect smile and his hair that looks so soft to touch and starts rattling off his order.

Okay, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Gojo is easy on the eyes, and it’s quite funny to see how far he’ll take it. You’re not exactly sure if he even consumes the stuff he buys. Maybe he’s trying to impress you. Maybe he’s trying to annoy you. You think he succeeds more with the second option, but it’s fine. You like the little challenge everyday.

Today, you’re wiping down the counter when you see him appear behind it and begin drumming his fingers against it.

“Hi, sugar.”

You look up, unamused. He’s wearing a black compression shirt that hugs his muscles and grey sweatpants. He’s probably come back from the gym, judging by the sweat that sticks some strands of his white hair to his forehead. He looks good. Whatever.

“Gojo. What monstrosity will it be today?”

He hums under his breath. He rests his cheek on his palm. His skin is so clear. For all the coffee he drinks, at least.

“I would like… A single shot, 4 pumps sugar free peppermint, nonfat, extra hot, no foam, light whip stirred grande white mocha.”

Your mouth gapes. “Gojo. What? That’s not- what even is that?”

He laughs, loud and boyish. The shop is quite empty, so, you can take your time to mock his ridiculous request.

“I don’t know. Thought I’d try something different, you know?”

“You try something different everyday. I think this one wins the stupidest order yet.”

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. You know you like it. I bring some joy to the darkness that is your shift.” He pouts and leans forward.

You rolls your eyes. You turn and grab a cup to begin concocting his drink.

“Don’t call me that. And it doesn’t bring me joy. It does test my memory, though,” you pause, “How many pumps of peppermint was it?”

“Four. And what’s wrong with sweetheart?”

“I’m not your sweetheart, Gojo.”

He groans. He watches as you flit around behind the counter, going to steam the milk for his drink.

“Come on, what else am I supposed to call you? I don’t know your name.”

You point to the name tag pinned to your shirt.

“Yes you do.”

“That’s not your name.”

You nod and insist that it is. His eyebrows raise and he nods towards it.

“Your name is Brian?”

“Cute, right? I don’t like strangers using my real name, so they let me print a fake one.” You smile.

“It’s a shame, really. Brian suits you.” You stick your tongue out and Gojo grins.

The drink doesn’t take long. You make one of the fancy milk designs on the top, and slide it over to him.

“Here you go.”

He thanks you. He peers at the design at the top, eyeing the drink.

“I like this. You should learn how to draw my face on there.”

“Ah, yes. You’re right, that does sound like a great way to pass my time.” You nod sarcastically.

He sips the drink carefully. His nose scrunches and he sticks his tongue out.

“Oh, that is not good. At all.”

You laugh. You reach over and grab the drink, taking a swig. Gojo protests, but you can tell his effforts to get it back are half-assed. You wince, the warm peppermint drink sliding down your throat.

“Yeah, gross. How did you even come up with this?”

He shrugs, “They just come to me.” He nods at the cup in your hand, “You know, we basically just kissed.”

You snort, “You can keep dreaming, Gojo.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in my dreams, baby. All the dirty ones.”

Oh, he’s feeling brave today. You turn to hide the flush that dusts your cheeks. You wipe down the steamer.

“Baby is gross.”

“Tell me your name then.”

You point at the name tag on your shirt. Gojo groans and runs a hand through his hair. You glance down at the ignored drink on the counter.

“Gojo, you haven’t even touched your drink.”

He shrugs. “Oh, well. It’s not like I can’t pay for it.”

You hum under your breath. Rich people.

The shop starts filling up, and your manager pops his head around the door to tell you to get a move on.

“Sorry, Gojo. You gotta get a move on.”

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wave him off, sighing as he drops his drink in the trash.

——

The next day, Gojo walks in with someone else. A girl, short brown hair and an unlit cigarette in her mouth. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. Maybe she’s a girlfriend. Gojo seems awfully close to her, a smile gracing his lips as she says something to him.

You’re staring. You turn away quickly. It’s none of your business what he’s up to and you don’t care, anyway. Gojo could be married for all you care.

He bounds up to the front. Gojo has a way of taking up every space he’s in, and as he leans across the counter, he’s all you can see.

“Hey, cutie.”

“Hello. What can I do for you today?”

“Aw. No complaints. You like cutie?”

“Feels like something a 12 year old would call his discord girlfriend, but. Sure, let’s go with that.”

He laughs, but he straightens up quickly.

“Look, I’ve got no time for our cute banter today. I’ll have a Venti, triple-shot caramel macchiato, with three pumps of vanilla, two pumps of hazelnut, one pump of caramel, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and extra whipped cream on top.”

“No time for banter, but time for all of that.”

“Oh, and a mocha.”

You smile. “Who’s that normal order for?”

He points at the girl he came in with, who’s gone outside to smoke her cigarette.

“Shoko. Luckily for you, she likes normal people drinks.”

You turn to start making their drinks. Today’s order is much tamer than usual. It actually sounds like it might taste nice, and it’s sugary enough to satiate his sweet tooth. You wonder if he’ll ask that girl to try it for him.

“So. You got any plans today?” You say.

“Mhm. My friend and I are going shopping. She asked me to keep her company, but I think she likes my credit card’s presence more than mine.”

“Makes sense. At least she gets something out of the card.”

“Ha ha ha. Come on, she gets mean when she’s impatient.”

You shake your head, waiting for the milk to steam. “It takes as long as it takes.”

“Okay, Carla.”

“Wrong.”

“Bridget?”

You tell him he’s wrong again and laugh at his whining. You finish his drink off with an alarming amount of whip cream, to his request, and place it and the mocha on the counter.

“Done in record time.” You wink.

He tries it, and perks up.

“I’m impressed. This one actually tastes nice.”

He slides it over to you, and you take a sip.

“Yeah, you’re right. It is nice.” You say, incredulously.

“Can I have a sip?”

You look to the left and Gojo’s ‘friend’ has appeared. She smells a little like cigarettes but she’s so breathtakingly pretty that you don’t think anyone‘s really worried about that. She takes a drink before Gojo can protest, and she winces.

“God, it’s so sweet. You’ll die an early death if you keep going on like this.”

“Well, good thing it’s not for you.” He grabs it and passes her the mocha.

The girl looks over at you and smiles.

“Hey. I’m Shoko. It’s nice to meet you. Gojo doesn’t shut up about you.”

You tilt your head at the boy, who is looking away from the two of you, and coo.

“Aw, how sweet!” You awe, pressing a hand to your heart.

“He calls you Barista girl. Says you make the best drinks.”

You shrug. “I wouldn’t say best. I am the only one who will make his insane orders, though.”

“That’s true. He doesn’t even drink them half the time. Just throws them away the second he leaves. It’s like the only reason he comes here is so-“

“Okay! Okay, we’ve got to go.” Gojo claps his hands together, cutting off Shoko, and steering her away.

She grins, waving at you. She yells it was nice to meet you, and you say it back, much to Gojos dismay, and wonder what the real reason he comes here is.

——-

The next time Gojo comes in, he looks good. He’s wearing a black button up, the top few buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms. There’s a silver chain around his neck, and his hair is done up in a way that looks effortless and prepared at the exact same time. He’s also holding a bouquet of pretty flowers, pink and white and perfect looking.

God. You move away before he notices you blatantly staring at him. It’s almost closing, and you’ve got ten minutes before you’re free to go. You should be annoyed at his presence. You and Choso, the guy you were working with tonight, had just cleaned up, and you know Gojo’s order would probably need every appliance in the building. Any other customer would be shunned away, a quick point at the clock.

But Gojo’s not any other customer. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

“Hey, Gojo.”

He smiles. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Your cheeks heat up. God, if only he wasn’t so attractive. It would be so much easier to act like you don’t care when he calls you all those things.

“You look nice. You going somewhere after this?”

“Mhm. I’m going on a date.”

You pause to where you’re emptying out the coffee pots. A date? He was seeing someone else after spending god knows how long flirting with you?

You shouldn’t be surprised. He’s never asked you out, and Gojo is attractive enough to be someone who doesn’t care about girls' feelings. You know you should’ve seen this coming. It probably was just a little fun he had everyday, joking around with the oblivious, head-over-heels barista who allowed him to act like a dick with his stupid coffee orders.

Whatever.

“That’s nice. What can I get for you? You need to hurry up though, because we’re closing soon.” Your voice is flat, and your hand rests on your hip.

“Uh. Just a coffee.”

You frown. “No obnoxious order today?”

“Nah. I’ve got places to be. And I need to be awake tonight, if you get my drift.” He winks and you scoff.

You turn and fill the coffee pot, a little more aggressively than normal. You unfortunately do get his drift. Before you can say anything in response, Choso comes out from the back.

Choso is cute. He looks intimidating, always monotoned and looking sleep-deprived, but he was a sweetheart. He always ties his hair into little buns, draws cute designs on top of the lattes, and always makes sure you don’t close alone. Plus, he looks good in an apron. You think you’d like him if it weren’t for an annoying blue-eyed boy and his stupid orders.

“You okay if I clock out?”

You turn to him and smile. “Yeah, I’ll lock up. You working tomorrow?”

Choso takes his apron off and drapes it over his shoulder. You turn to face him, effectively ignoring Gojo.

“Nope.”

“What? Choso, come on, I can’t work if you’re not there, it’s so boring!”

He laughs, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. It make the muscles in his arms stand out, and wow. Does he work out? Probably.

“You’ll be fine without me.”

“I won’t.” You pout.

“Goodbye.” He walks away, nodding at Gojo, who looks just peachy waiting for his coffee.

“So who’s that?”

You turn back to face him. “Choso. He works here.”

“Yeah, I figured. You like him?”

“Yeah. He’s great. My favourite coworker.”

Gojo nods slowly. A weird sort of quiet settles over you two. A part of you wants to ask who’s he’s going on a date with, but you respect yourself too much for that.

“What time do you get off?” He speaks up.

You pause slightly. “Me?��

Gojo raises an eyebrow. “No, the other barista behind the counter. Yes, you.”

“Oh. I’m done in ten.”

“Okay, good. Our reservation is in half an hour, so we should make it.”

The coffee pot whirs to let you know it’s ready. Instead, you keep staring at Gojo, who’s looks all too serious for somebody speaking nonsense.

“What?”

“It’s a nice place, don’t worry. Thought I’d splurge, to impress you. These are for you, by the way.” He thrusts the flowers towards you.

“I- What? Gojo, what’s going on?” You laugh, a little hysterical, confused as to what the hell is happening.

He grins. He walks right over to the you, leaning over the counter, so you’re a couple inches away from each other.

“You really think I’d ask anybody else out? I’ve been asking for these stupid orders at for weeks now just to throw them out so I could talk to you, that wasn’t a hint?”

“Yeah, but I just. I don’t know, I thought you were just messing around!”

“Are you really that clueless?”

“Hey! You-“ You stop for a second.

You take the apron from around your neck and throw it behind you into the office. You cross your arms and you nearly laugh at the nervous look that crosses his face.

“Did you make a reservation and dress yourself up for a date you didn’t even ask me to?”

Gojo scratches the back of his head. “I-“

“And then come in here and just tell me when it’s happening, without even giving me time to prepare myself?”

“I- Barista girl, I can explain.” He clasps his hands together.

“And you still don’t even know my name.”

He sighs. “The mystery is part of the fun, babe.”

You smile slightly. You have no idea what went through his head, but it’s cute he tried so hard. Even if it was a little weird.

“What if I had plans tonight, huh?”

Gojo shrugs. “I was hoping you’d cancel them for me.”

“And if I didn’t?”

“Not too sure. Maybe throw the coffee I’m still waiting for in your face?”

You perk up suddenly, remembering the pot that was still bubbling behind you. You take a cup and fill it for him, fit it with a lid and give it to him.

“So. Are you going to ask me out properly?”

He nods. His face is determined and he grabs the flowers from your hands. He takes two steps back and he walks forward.

“Barista girl, will you do me the honours of going on a date with me tonight?”

You frown, sighing dramatically, “I don’t know. I’ve had such a long shift. I’m tired.”

Gojo grabs your hands, pulling you towards him. The counter gets in the way, but you don’t think he cares. The two of you are still close enough that if you moved a couple inches forwards you’d be kissing. He smells like something expensive, and it overwhelms your senses. His lips quirk up in a little smirk, and you think your skin is buzzing where he’s touching you.

“I’m sure I can help wake you up, baby. You just gotta say yes.”

“I- I kinda look like shit, though.” You whisper.

“Don’t say that, you look beautiful.”

You know you don’t. Your hair is being held up poorly by a claw clip, random strands falling out of it. Your mascara is slightly smudged under your eyes, and there’s a lovely new coffee stain on the shirt you're wearing, courtesy of Choso knocking into you before you got a chance to put your apron on.

But he’s looking right at you like you’re the most incredible thing that he’s ever laid his eyes on that you feel like you might actually believe him.

“Okay. Okay, fine. If you let me go home and freshen up. Put a dress on, or something.”

“Oh, I can get behind that.”

You snort a laugh, stepping back. The nervousness from before is gone, and he’s grinning at you excitedly. He waits the few minutes it takes you to lock up, and holds his arm out for you to take while he walks you to his car.

It’s seven in the evening and the sun is just starting to set. The sky is beginning to turn, seeping from blue to orange to pink, and the light is catching off Gojos face. He’s speaking animatedly as he talks about the restaurant he’s taking you too, oblivious to your staring. He’s planned every last detail, somehow remembering when you said that you loved Asian food about a month ago.

You don’t really know much about Gojo. You do know enough to say that he is so sweet it makes your teeth rot.

You say your name, then, softly enough that he nearly misses it. He stops mid sentence and turns to you.

“Is that your name?”

You nod.

“You have a very pretty name.”

You smile. “Thank you.”

He nods slowly. “You can call me Satoru, by the way.”

“Okay, Satoru.” The name feels nice on your tongue.

He groans when you say it, hand reaching up to cup your face.

“God, it sounds so beautiful when you say it. It’d sound even better if you were screaming it, though.”

You roll your eyes, face a fiery red, and let a laughing Satoru lead you into his car.

——————————————————————

AUTHORS NOTE

Gojo satoru the man that u r.. also that cosplayer is EXACTLY how I envision him in my brain.. so obsessed..

again, any requests r welcome! (I’m literally lost for ideas)

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #fluff #jjk fluff #oneshot

148 notes · View notes

nia-jul · 4 months

Text

LATE NIGHTS AND STAR-CROSSED MARGINS PT 2

Jason Todd, the most beautiful boy in your lecture, takes you out on a (maybe) coffee date.

college!au, fluff, pining, happy ending

——————————————————————

You and Jason Todd are walking down the corridors, hands just brushing past each other as your arms swing besides you.

You and Jason Todd are walking down the corridors. Jason Todd who had asked you to go get coffee, so you could study together, alone. Which you hoped was just a euphemism for ‘get to know and possibly date’, but you weren’t going to complain.

It feels childish. You’re acting like a ten-year-old with a crush, giddy with excitement while he stands oblivious next to you. Should you ask him where he’s taking you? That question feels too datey, too boyfriend-girlfriendy. Instead, you land on just keeping quiet. The silence lingers for a few seconds before he perks up.

“So. You like coffee?” His question is so obviously trying to break the ice, but you appreciate it nonetheless.

“Of course, I can’t live without it. And i haven’t had my fix today, so it’s a good thing we’re going.”

Jason laughs. “Right. I’m guessing this has something to do with you running so late?”

“Yeah. My friends and I stayed up late last night and ended up sleeping so late. I thought i’d set an alarm, but. I guess I didn’t.”

“Levine didn’t care, trust me. You’re one of his favourite students.”

You shake your head in denial, but Jason doubles down.

“No, seriously, you are. You’re smarter than half the people in there.”

“Says you. You hide all those smarts behind those good looks.”

Shit. You can almost feel the smirk on his face.

“You think I’m good looking?”

“Shut up.”

Jason laughs. He holds open the door for you, and you walk out of the building. It’s early, only one o’clock, and there's still a considerable amount of people milling about. It’s warm enough outside that there’s some studying in small groups on the grass, books and pens spread out in front of them. At least, you think they’re supposed to be studying. But with the sun shining as brightly as it was, you figure not a lot of work is getting done.

Jason walks you to the car park, and stops. You look around for a car, but there isn’t one. Instead, he stops in front of a motorcycle.

“And we’re here. This, this right here is my pride and joy.” He rubs the leather seat, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Jason. I’m not getting on that.”

He looks slightly offended. “What? Why not?”

Your mouth gapes. “What do you mean why? Do you know how risky it is to ride a motorcycle? Like- My dads a doctor, you know. I’ve heard stories. About accidents.”

Jason tilts his head. He walks towards you, standing just a few inches in front of you. You have to look up to meet his eyes, he’s so tall. He smells like expensive cologne and something boyish, and you’re sure he’s close enough to feel the heat coming off your face.

“I’ll look after you, sweetheart. Promise.” He murmurs, voice rumbling deep in his chest.

You laugh shakily. Tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, if only for something to do.

“And besides,” He reaches behind him and grabs a helmet, “You can wear this. Keep that pretty head of yours safe.”

You scoff and move away before he can see how flustered you look. You bite your lip, anxiously looking at the bike.

“You’re sure this is safe?”

“Positive.”

You think for a moment. The things you do for good-looking men.

“Okay. Okay, fine, hurry up. We need to go before I think for a second and change my mind.”

He cheers and hands you the helmet. He gets on first, legs stretching over the bike, thighs resting against the seat. You curse under your breath, thankful the helmet is covering your face. You get on behind him. You’re suddenly acutely aware of how close you are. Your hands hover awkwardly.

“Uh, what do I hold onto?”

“My waist.”

Right. Of course it was his waist.

You reach over, arms meeting in front of his middle. You clasp your hands together and stay completely on top of where they rest, because you’re sure you’ve embarrassed yourself enough without touching his crotch.

“You ready?”

“No.”

The words barely leave your mouth before the engine revs, the bike rumbling beneath you. You screech, hands clenching his waist. You think you hear him laugh, but you can't ponder too much about that, or the feel of what you think might be a six-pack beneath his shirt, because he’s moving, and you think you’re about to fall off.

It’s loud, and the wind is making your clothes billow behind you, but it feels freeing, in an odd sort of way. The fear bleeds into adrenaline that fills your veins, and your screaming turns into cheers.

The ride ends all too quickly, and Jason parks at a café well-known enough around your campus. You hop off the bike, and he follows. You take off the helmet, laughing.

“That was amazing! Terrifying, but also amazing.”

Jason nods, taking the helmet out of your hands. His hair is dishevelled from the wind, cheeks flushed red. You don’t think he’s ever looked prettier.

“I told you it would be fun.”

The two of you walk inside. He leads you to a table near the back, ushers you into the booth. You bring out your books, and he brings out his. You set up your things and he stands, tapping his fingers against the chair.

“What do you want to drink?” He asks.

“Hmm. A latte. With an extra shot of espresso.”

“Bold order.”

He disappears, and you finally have time to freak out. You pull out your phone, frantically texting your friends. They explode on the group chat, and you giggle, the flurry of emojis and capital letters easing your nerves. Half of them think it's a date, the other half think it’s all friendly. You can’t decide who you agree with because Jason comes back with your drinks. You quickly turn your phone off and thank him for the drink. He nods at your phone.

“You look smiley. Who are you texting? A boyfriend?” He doesn’t make eye contact as he asks, eyes turned down to his glass.

“No, my friends. They’re just wondering where I am. No boyfriend.”

“Good.”

You raise an eyebrow and he shakes his head.

“Not like that. Just. Good your friends care, you know?”

It’s cute. He’s cute, you think, as the two of you study. He takes pictures of some of your annotations. You peek at his home screen, and see a picture of him and three other boys, all of them grinning apart from him, who's staring grumpily at the camera. You joke about Professor Levine’s long lectures, complain about the essay that you both haven’t started. It’s nice, to talk to someone who’s actually doing the subject you are. And someone’s who's so good at it. If his looks weren’t enough, Jason’s intellect might have to be the sexiest thing about him. He listens to your rambles and answers back with ones just as long. Definitely the best part about him.

After about an hour of that, you spend more time getting to know one another. You learn he has one older brother and two younger ones. He doesn’t linger on his family life too much, and you decide not to pry. He likes to workout (so it was a six-pack you’d felt earlier) and his favourite poet is Emily Dickinson. Which might’ve been enough for you to propose on the spot.

You finish off the last dregs of your latte and he downs his too. He ended up buying some snacks, and you learn that Jason Todd loves blueberry muffins. You glance at the time, and gape.

“Oh god, i gotta get home. I’ve got so much stuff to do tonight.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’ll drop you.” There's a lilt of disappointment in his voice, and you try not to like it.

The ride back is just as fun as before, and this time you definitely don’t hold him tight enough to feel the line of his muscles beneath his shirt. He parks in the same place as before, and walks you to the door of your dorm.

“Well. This is me.” You sigh.

“Yep.”

The two of you pause for a second. You say your goodbyes, and go to enter. But you pause, just before your key slips in the lock.

The question you’re about to ask can go one of two ways, but you think you have to ask it. Your friends will kill you if you don’t, and you think you might too. You turn back to face Jason, who still hasn’t left.

“Jason, I have to ask. Was this, like. A friendly café revision session? Or was it. You know, something more.”

He tilts his head again. A curl falls across his eyes. His eyelashes are impossibly long, and they frame the bright brown eyes that always stare right into you.

“I’d like it to be a date. If you don’t mind.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank god. Of course, I don’t mind.”

You shut your mouth, reigning in the rest of your ramble of how desperate you were to go out with him.

“Cool. I was going to ask you straight up, but I thought it might be a bit too forward.”

You huff a laugh. “It’s okay. I like forward.”

“Noted.” He pauses for a second. “Give me your phone.”

“Yes, sir.”

He falters a little at that, before straightening up and grabbing your phone. You will definitely be looking into that later. He opens your contacts and types in his number. He sends himself a text, and his phone buzzes.

“Alright. I’ll text you, and maybe we could go out again?”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Damn you, Jason Todd.

You reach up and place a kiss on his cheek. It takes every ounce of your control not to kiss him properly, but you better save something for your other dates.

That night, you fall asleep with the taste of latte on your lips and the smell of Jason’s cologne in your head.

——————————————————————

AUTHORS NOTE

part two 🙈 might make this into a series of oneshots, we’ll see! Hope you enjoy!

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd oneshot #fluff #oneshot #dc comics #dc universe #red hood #red hood x reader

162 notes · View notes

nia-jul · 4 months

Text

MASTERLIST

Jason Todd

Late nights and star-crossed margins - 1.3k

Late nights and star-crossed margins pt2 - 1.7k

Gojo Satoru

Wet cigarettes - 3.1K

7 notes · View notes

nia-jul · 4 months

Text

LATE NIGHTS AND STAR-CROSSED MARGINS

Jason Todd is the most beautiful boy in your lecture. Luckily, fate lands you a seat next to him

college!au, fluff, pining, happy ending

——————————————————————

This has to be some form of epic karma.

You’ve never been late to a lecture before. At least, not this late, where you’re sure Professor Levine will not hesitate to slam the two double doors in his face when you eventually make it there.

You’d overslept horrifically. After a night spent with your roommates over board games and shitty wine in cracked mugs, you’d been too tired to remember to turn on your alarms. You didn’t regret it. It was hard to find time to spend together, and even if it was just a couple of hours of UNO, it was nice to catch up. Unfortunately, the drinks your friend Wendy had kept pouring into your mug had lulled you into the best sleep you had in a while. Which, unfortunately, was interrupted by a confused knock on your door, a concerned friend wondering why you were still in bed so late.

Now, without a shower and the outfit you’d worn yesterday, you were practically running to the hall to try to make it in time. Feverishly checking your phone, watching the minutes go by, as you finally stop outside the doors.

You pause for a second. Do you knock? Just walk in? Professor Levine wasn’t necessarily strict. He’d never kicked anyone out before, but you’d never seen him angry. Would he even be angry? You didn’t know. God, you were being so dramatic.

You push open the door. Immediately, a couple dozen eyes lock on you, dishevelled and anxious at the door. You could die. Really and truly, just drop down on the floor and die. You glance at the professor. He just nods slightly, and you take that as a sign you’re in the clear. You start walking to your seat, relief flooding your veins, to see that it’s taken.

Your second dosage of karma. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve such cruel treatment. You sat in the same seat every say. Far enough front the front that you didn't get picked on, and far enough from the back that it didn’t look like you were hiding from Levine. You quickly scan the room and see the only spare seat is right at the very back. Right next to Jason Todd.

You knew who he was. Everybody in your literature class did, everybody at your university did. He was six foot tall, with hair that curled perfectly over his brown eyes, and a body that looked like it had been carved by the gods. As if that wasn’t enough, he was also nice. Boys that attractive were usually paired with a big ego and an obnoxious personality, but he had neither. He kept to himself, was polite and respectful. Jason Todd was like every guy you’d spent hours reading about and analysing for your English classes, the perfect man in every way.

Which, of course, meant he was also horrifically out of your league.

You take the awkwardly long walk to the back. You drop your things on the floor, and sit down. He flashes you a small smile and your knees feel weak. You hope the one you give him back makes you look normal. You fiddle around with your things, bring out your laptop and books, and sigh.

Crisis averted. You made it in one piece. You tap the power on button, turning your laptop to face you. Wait a little bit. And nothing.

It's out of charge.

You tap furiously on the button, as if it will somehow make something happen.

“Fucking shit.” You whisper, digging in your bag for the charger, that you know is not there.

You feel eyes on you, and you look to your side. Jason is watching you, an amused smile gracing his lips. You feel heat rise to your cheeks and you look away.

“Sorry, I just- I forgot my charger. And my laptops out”

He hums under his breath, low and deep in his chest. “Not your day, is it?”

“No, it’s really not. It’s where I take all my notes.” You slump in your chair, rubbing a hand over your face.

He slides a piece of paper over to you. “It’s okay. Professor Levine won’t call on you if you sit this far back. He takes offence. Makes him think you’re avoiding him.”

“Surely that would make him want to call on us.”

Jason shrugs. “He’s different like that.”

You huff. You open your anthology. You’re studying Keats, one of your favourites. Despite the constant reminders that your chosen degree would get you nowhere, you love literature, evident by the copious amount of annotations you’d done. It wasn’t part of the syllabus but you thought it was fun.

A hand reaches over, hovering over your book. Jason’s, bigger thank yours, with a large watch around its wrist. Not that you were checking.

“Can I look?”

You nod. You try not to watch his deft fingers slip between the pages (try not to think about where else they could slip) and write meaningless things on the sheet of paper he’d given you. You can’t focus on the lecture, only your need for his approval of your work.

“This is incredible. You did this all on your own?” His eyes don't leave the paper as he continues to flick through.

You laugh nervously, “Yeah, I’ve got a lot of free time.”

“Oh, I love this one.”

He points to Modern Love. You smile, nodding excitedly.

“Yeah, that’s my favourite! I don’t know why, but there's something so cool about one of the best Romantic poets ever writing a poem about how people put so much pressure on romance, you know? Especially in the era he was in.”

You mouth shuts. You laugh nervously.

“Sorry. I'm rambling.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s cute.”

You don’t have time to try and dignify a response through the shiver that runs down your spine, because Professor Levine clears his throat loudly from across the room. You look over and he’s staring right at the two of you (who are considerably closer than you were when you’d sat down).

“Is there something more interesting you two are discussing? Like perhaps how to show up to my lectures on time?”

Jason snorts and you duck your head. “Sorry, professor.”

The rest of the lecture is spent like something out of a high school classroom. He scribbles notes in the margin on your paper, and you draw little stars across the page. You’ve not spoken before, but you spend the whole time whispering to each other. He shows you his favourite poems, and you pretend they aren’t yours too.

It’s a shame, really. Deep down, you wish you didn’t get along with him so well. If not for the way he looks right at you when he speaks, breath fanning over your face as he leans down to say something, but for the fact you’ll never speak again. The two of you will pack your things and part ways, and you’ll spend the next lesson in your usual seat with a fully charged laptop, thinking about him. He’ll just be another story your friends will drag out of you over a glass of wine, the day when you sat with the sexiest boy on campus.

The lecture ends, and the two of you leave side by side. You avoid eye contact with your professor and pause outside the door.

“Thank you for the paper. And letting me sit next to you.”

Your hands awkwardly grasp at the straps of your bag. Of course today of all days you’d look so messy. You’re not wearing makeup, and you know your shirt is wrinkled. He looks effortless in a shirt that curls over his biceps oh, so perfectly.

“It’s no problem.”

Silence spills between the two of you. You nod once.

“Well. Bye, Jason.”

You turn to walk away, but you don’t make it far. A hand grabs your arm. You look back, and it's Jason, all smiling and nervous. He drops your arm, and shoots you another one of his boyish grins.

“Do you want to get some coffee? We can go over our notes. Get you back on Levine's good side.”

You should probably say no. Boys like Jason are the kind that could ruin you.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

—————————————————————-

AUTHORS NOTE

my first oneshot!! I hope you all like it, and plz leave requests or if u want a part two 🩷

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #Jason todd oneshot #oneshot #fluff

328 notes · View notes