empty threat (implied-ish gn!reader x satoru gojo)
notes: hi my name is niku and for some fucking reason everyone i know and love thinks i am a gojo fucker. first of all, they are wrong. uh anyway. one of them said a thing and that’s why this fic exists. it’s also @willowser’s fault so they should take responsibility. thanks to fabi for checking this for me cuz never wrote this man before.
word count: 1.1k
“What the hell!”
You’re not sure what you were expecting when you asked to spar with Satoru Gojo. To spend twenty or thirty minutes of your time chasing after a basically untouchable foe until he got bored and decisively ended the fight? To get your ass handed to you as he reminded you, once again, of the difference between you and him? To totally and magnificently lose?
What you can say is you definitely weren't expecting to end up pinning the man who holds the title of the world's strongest sorcerer to the ground. You both know it's not due to your skill as a sorcerer or even due some dumb luck. The only reason why you've got Gojo pinned is simply because he's letting you.
And it pisses you off. It's not like you were expecting to win, but this is just…
"What's wrong?" Gojo asks, mocking you with that disgusting saccharine voice of his. "You look upset. I thought you wanted to beat me."
You do your best to remain calm and not respond to his provocations. Even so, your grip on his wrists tightens ever so slightly.
He notices because of course he does and winces dramatically. "Owie!"
"I know it doesn't hurt," you tell him flatly, resisting the urge to squeeze tighter. It won't do anything to him, but maybe it'd make you feel a little better.
"Nope, not one bit!"
Before you can stop it an annoyed growl escapes your throat and Gojo latches onto it, ready and more than willing to weaponize anything he possibly can. “Come on, what’s got you all frustrated? You can tell me, you know?"
Stupid fucking dumbass piece of shit jerk knows exactly why you’re mad. He probably let you get him because he knew how much it’d aggravate you.
“No need to be so shy,” he continues purposely ignoring your growing rage. “We’re friends after all, aren’t we?”
You choose to remain silent and instantly find it’s the wrong response as Gojo starts to prattle on and on about how he thought that you were friends and how sad he is that you, as his friend won't talk to him, won’t rely on him and blah blah blah. He really loves the sound of his own voice, doesn’t he? Normally, you would just tune him out, but your agitation has left you impaired and on edge.
You need Satoru Gojo to shut up.
Like yesterday.
Instinct takes over and your body moves on its own, you pull back just a bit before slamming your head in his direction full force. But the hit doesn’t connect because of course it doesn’t. Instead, you feel like you are just hovering over him like an empty threat that you’ll never make good on.
He laughs and your frustration flashes in your chest hot, agitation at its peak. “You know, if you wanted to kiss , you could have just asked.”
“I do not want to kiss you!” you snarl, refusing to take the accusation in silence.
“Oh? You don’t?”
“Hell no!”
“What a shame! I made sure to put on one of Nobara’s lip masks on last night so my lips would be super soft today!”
In a moment of weakness, your eyes flicker to his mouth and his lips curve upward in a smirk. Fuck. It doesn't matter that it was for just a split second— he caught you looking. You consider accusing him of stealing Kugisaki's skin care products to deflect the accusations that are sure to come but before you can the infinity between you dissipates unexpectedly bringing you mere inches from Gojo's infuriating face.
"Well?" he asks, voice intentionally seductive, his warm breath perfuming your face. You manage to suppress a shiver. It's an act. It's an act. He's just trying to get under your skin. "Wanna see for yourself?"
Your refusal lingers at the tip of your tongue— stuck for some reason you don't care to delve into right now.
"Come on." He almost sounds like he's pleading with you, and you keep reminding yourself that the bastard is just fucking with you. "I promise they're really soft."
Your eyes, traitorous things that they are, try to look again, but you force your gaze upward. Maybe if you try headbutting him again it'll work. There's nothing between you now, right?
No harm in trying.
You shift, trying to conceal your movements as best you can before going in for another headbutt. Surely Gojo will put infinity between you when he realizes that you're trying again, saving you both from what could be a massive headache.
But he doesn't.
You end up stopping yourself this time— your mouths even closer now. Too close. You finally take notice of your heart thumping wildly in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears. You should move. You need to move. Now. If you don't, one weird move from either of you will likely close the distance between you.
It's unfortunate for you that Gojo is a fan of weird moves.
He shifts beneath you, just slightly, his chin tilting up and you feel like a thread that's just snapped in two. You reel backwards, repelled by the thought of kissing Satoru Gojo, rejecting the thought, the notion, that for the breadth of a second your lips connected. It didn't happen. It didn't. You still want to wipe your mouth though, just in case. You don’t because you don’t want him to think that maybe there was contact.
Beneath you, Gojo laughs again, amused as he always is. Unsure of what to expect, you jump off him and assume a defensive stance. He rises so that he's sitting up, and you can't tell for sure with that blindfold but you feel like he's watching you.
"I think that's enough for today," he says, pushing himself to his feet. You eye him nervously, keeping your guard up in case it's a fake out. Gojo walks past you nonchalantly and you think that's confirmation that he really is done for the day.
"It was fun," he remarks cheerfully and the fact that it sounds like he means it annoys you a little. Then, his voice drops as he adds, "We should do it again some time."
The way his voice sounds makes it seem like you've just wrapped up a date and not a fight. It makes you feel funny inside and you scowl as you turn to face him, fully intending to tell him to shut up.
But you don't.
Satoru Gojo instead blows you a kiss, immobilizing you before he saunters out the door looking far too pleased with himself.
You stare, your heartbeat erratic and your face warmed by what you're determined to call rage.
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