LE gojo going "*sigh* my ears have been blessed." Whenever he hears reader laughing
PFFTT so happening🥹 and he’s not keeping that to himself, he’s telling it to the next person beside him… who happens to be nanami💁🏻♀️
“my ears have been blessed~” he sighs dreamily.
“what?”
“she just laughed… nanamin, isn’t her voice just like angel’s? i still can’t believe it—i married her!”
“gojo-san… i don’t want to be rude but—”
“just agree with me, nanamin!”
- gojo satoru x reader
sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again
genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭
note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”
“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”
“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”
Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.
The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.
Apparently not.
“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”
Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.
. . .
“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”
At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.
“Satoru...?”
And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—
“Satoru, are you—?”
“Just fucking shut it!”
And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.
“Huh…?”
Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?
If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”
Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.
There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.
But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.
Damn it. Damn it all!
In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.
Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.
You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.
Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.
After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.
“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”
“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.
“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.
“…” This shithead. That's it.
“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”
“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”
Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.
“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.
“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”
Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.
You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.
“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”
He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.
And after a while...
“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”
The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.
“Mm-hmm, I know.”
“Really.”
“Mmm, really, really.”
He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”
Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.
“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”
And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.
“They're just some paranoid old fools—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”
“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”
“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”
...oh.
And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.
First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.
And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.
It made something inside you flutter.
“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”
“Huh?”
“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”
Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.
But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—
“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”
The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.
The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.
“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”
You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.
Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.
“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—
But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.
And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.
“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”
And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.
“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.
“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”
“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”
At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.
“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”
Epilogue
Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.
"Satoru... what are you...?"
He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."
However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.
"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."
When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.
"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"
"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."
Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered your baby—
"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"
...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.
nerdjo c:
babyfever!satoru virtually combusts when you get the OK to bring your son home, the baby carrier in his hand a new beginning, one he owed to you.
babyfever!satoru has all of your presents waiting for you when you get home, and he most certainly went overboard but he has no apologies, there was nothing you didn’t deserve after giving birth to a literal human being.
babyfever!satoru is first to get up when you or your son need anything, the man has springs in his feet and not a complaint in his body.
babyfever!satoru goes above and beyond.
“Toru, he is due a feeding, can you-”
The atoms in the air shift, a brief wave of nausea hitting you as your surroundings blur. You are back home. In your living room.
Looking behind you, you see Satoru fluffing a pillow, your favourite snack and drink on the coffee table and the show you are currently watching playing on the TV.
“Can I get you anything else sweets?”
babyfever!satoru is obsessed with your boobs ever since you started lactating, this man has a greedy mouth and he isn’t ashamed of it at all. He nips, bites, kisses, sucks until your breasts are marked up and so sensitive the lightest brush of air makes you flinch.
babyfever!satoru doesn’t let anybody babysit your baby, and that means no one. He doesn’t care how long he has known them, worked with them or even if they have saved his own ass, he trusts no one with his babies life, but you his perfect little wife.
babyfever!satoru takes time off work for the first 6 months of your sons life, only to become a house husband because you were excited to return to work, and whatever wifey wants wifey gets (he made you go down to part time, but hey is he a monster for wanting his family around 24/7?)
babyfever!satoru is thankful for the life you have gifted to him every day and he will never stop showing you just how much he loves you for blessing him with this reality.
Part 1 Part 2
Chuu you've said that baby gojo is a calm baby, but I think he would be a little fussy when he just wake up or still feel sleepy — all he wants is his mommy! So, imagine, baby and dad gojo is sleeping on the bed, then baby wakes up. Gojo is nervous because he thought baby would cry as le reader is nowhere to be found but baby just climbed up to dad's embrace and fall asleep again🥹
that would be so precious 🥹 ofc baby will be fussy at times🙂↕️
gojo wakes up to the shuffling of sheets, and when he cracks his eyes open, he sees his baby scrunching up his face, squirming and he swears he is just a few seconds away from bursting into tears—
“oh no,” he is mentally thinking where you are because you’re not on your side of bed, and really about to catch him and soothe him so he won’t wail when suddenly the baby clutches his pyjamas top with his little fingers, and buries himself on his chest.
“oh…” something just melts inside him, seeing that now his little pumpkin goes back to sleep while attaching himself to him. gojo breaks out into a fond grin as he too resumes his sleep.
“so clingy, just like your mama… sigh.”
𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𓂃
gojojojo: i married the best girl there is ♡
. . .
bonus reel !
gojojojo: MY BABY IS SO CUTE HE LOOKS LIKE A MOCHI !
Gojo Satoru was everything you weren’t. Wealthy, popular, and effortlessly charismatic, he ruled the school like a king. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and he basked in the attention without a care in the world. You, on the other hand, were invisible. Quiet, studious, and focused solely on your dream of becoming a mechanical engineer, you kept to yourself. You had no time for the drama or distractions of high school life—not that anyone tried to drag you into it.
For years, Gojo hadn’t even known you existed, too busy dating every pretty girl in school and living his high-society life. But you didn’t care. As long as you had your books, your love of science, and a clear path to graduation, you were content.
Then, everything changed the night you got bitten.
It happened as you walked home from the library, your bag heavy with notes and textbooks. A sharp sting on your hand made you pause, and when you looked down, you saw it: a spider, glowing faintly with an otherworldly hue. You brushed it off, thinking nothing of it at the time. But by morning, your entire world had turned upside down.
The changes were drastic, to say the least. It felt like you had the strength of five men combined. You could climb walls, stick to surfaces, and—most astonishingly—shoot webs. At first, it was chaos. You’d knock over furniture without meaning to, stick to walls by accident, and fire webs at the worst possible times. Balancing your new abilities with the demands of high school was a nightmare. And then there were your parents, who couldn’t understand why you suddenly seemed so…different.
Eventually, though, you got the hang of it. Slowly but surely, you found a rhythm. By day, you were the quiet girl no one noticed, slipping through the halls like a ghost. By night, you were Spider-Woman, swinging through the city, saving lives, and trying to make a difference.
One of those lives, unfortunately, was Gojo’s.
You’d saved him multiple times—once from a mugger in a dark alley, another time from a runaway car. Each time, you prayed he wouldn’t recognize you under the mask. But Gojo, being Gojo, became utterly and completely obsessed. He couldn’t stop talking about Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman this, Spider-Woman that. She was all he thought about, all he cared about. He’d defend her fiercely to anyone who dared criticize her, becoming your personal lawyer without even realizing it.
When the media started painting Spider-Woman as a delinquent—a vigilante who caused more harm than good—Gojo was furious. He went so far as to call his dad, threatening to sue the newspaper that ran the story. How dare they? Didn’t they know how much Spider-Woman sacrificed to keep the city safe? The idea of anyone tarnishing her name was enough to make his blood boil.
Then came the night at the nightclub. Gojo, carefree as ever, found himself cornered in a dark alley, moments away from being robbed. You swooped in, taking out the muggers with ease. But before you could leave, he stopped you.
“Wait!” he called out, breathless and his sky blue eye wide. “I… I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”
For a split second, you hesitated. His voice, so familiar yet so different, made your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t risk it—not with how obsessed he was. Without a word, you shot a web to the nearest building and disappeared into the night, leaving Gojo standing there, more intrigued than ever.
<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>
The cafeteria buzzed with chatter as students clustered at their usual tables. Sitting alone with your tray of food and your notes, you tuned out the noise. Behind you, however, the loudest group in school had taken their seats—Gojo Satoru and his friends.
“Dude, I’m telling you—she totally recognized me,” Gojo said, his voice carrying across the room as he threw his hands up in frustration.
“Satoru, you’re delusional,” Geto drawled, brushing his long hair behind his ear as he gave his best friend a look of pity. “You know how many people she saves, right? Why would she only recognize you?”
“Because I’m pretty, that’s why,” Gojo shot back, leaning uncomfortably close to Geto’s face, his striking blue eyes glinting with mock indignation. “Who could ever forget this face, huh? I’m too handsome.”
Geto blinked at him, unimpressed. “You’re beyond saving.”
“He’s right,” Shoko chimed in dryly from across the table, casually popping a fry into her mouth. “You need professional help, Satoru.”
But Gojo wasn’t listening. He leaned back in his chair, dramatically running a hand through his white hair as though to emphasize his point. “I’m serious, guys! She’s so cool—like, way cooler than anyone else in this school. I have to meet her. But she doesn’t have an agent or an email or…anything! How am I supposed to contact her? Ugh, it’s torture.”
“You’re not supposed to contact her,” Shoko replied, not even looking up from her fries.
“Wait, wait,” Gojo interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Do you think she’d date me if I offered her money?” He turned to Geto and Shoko, searching for validation.
The two stared at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Money? Really?” Shoko snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Satoru, she’s a superhero, not a gold digger.”
Geto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, and even if she was into money, why would she pick you? You’d probably get robbed while on a date with her.”
“Hey!” Gojo huffed, crossing his arms. “She saved me multiple times. Okay, a lot actually . That means something!”
Shoko raised an eyebrow. “It means you’re really bad at staying out of trouble.”
Behind them, you fought the urge to roll your eyes. It was bad enough Gojo was obsessed with Spider-Woman, but to hear him talk about her with such unfiltered arrogance made your food taste worse. If only he knew how much effort it took to not acknowledge him during every rescue.
Still, you couldn’t deny the small flicker of amusement at the thought. Gojo Satoru, the most confident guy in school, practically pining over you without even knowing it.
<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>
Gojo Satoru thought he was a genius. Actually, scratch that—he knew he was a genius. After all, if Spider-Woman was going to save him every time he found himself in trouble, then logically, he just needed to get into more trouble. That way, she’d have no choice but to keep saving him, which meant he’d get to see her more often.
“Wow,” he muttered to himself one day as he stared at his reflection in a classroom window. “I scare myself sometimes with how brilliant I am.”
And so, his master plan began. Every day, without fail, he’d find himself in increasingly dangerous situations. Whether it was wandering down shady alleys, conveniently “forgetting” his wallet in sketchy neighborhoods, or trying to provoke muggers by flashing his expensive watch in public, Gojo made sure to play the role of helpless rich boy perfectly.
And every single time, you were there. Swinging in at the last possible second, rolling your eyes behind your mask as you pulled him out of harm’s way.
For two weeks, this went on. Two excruciating weeks.
“Are you serious right now?” you snapped one night as you yanked him out of the path of an oncoming car he’d nearly walked in front of. “sir, What were you even doing in the middle of the street?” Your trying to make your voice deeper so he couldn't recognise it.
“Me?” he asked innocently, flashing you a grin that somehow managed to be both charming and infuriating. “I was just testing how fast that car was going. You know, for science.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You’re unbelievable.” you whispered. You didn't want to talk to him too much and feed his delusion that he is somehow special to you.
“Thank you,” he replied, as if it were a compliment. “So, what’s your name? Your real name, I mean. Do you like movies? Dinner? Long walks in the rain?”
You ignored him, as usual, swinging away before he could say anything else. But Gojo was nothing if not persistent.
The final straw came on a rainy night after an already horrible day. You’d had a blowout argument with your mom that morning, and the weight of your double life was catching up to you. Your grades were slipping, exhaustion was eating away at you, and the constant pressure of keeping the city safe was unbearable. To top it all off, Gojo’s ridiculous antics were only making things worse.
So when you find him once again—this time standing at the edge of a rooftop of the hotel his rich father owns, "balancing practicing"—you snapped.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” you shouted, storming toward him as the rain poured down. Your mask was soaked, and your voice shook with frustration and fatigue. “Do you have a death wish? Or are you just this desperate for attention?”
Gojo turned, his soaked white hair plastered to his forehead, and gave you that same infuriating grin. “Hey, Spider-Woman! Took you long enough. I was starting to think you didn’t care.”
You grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back from the edge, your patience completely gone. “Listen, rich boy,” you hissed, your voice trembling with anger. “I don’t know what kind of game you think this is, but I am not playing. You don’t get to make my life harder just because you’re bored or obsessed or whatever this is.”
For the first time, Gojo seemed taken aback. His grin faltered, and his usually sparkling blue eyes softened. “Wait, are you okay?”
You froze, caught off guard by the genuine concern in his voice. For a fleeting moment, the usual arrogance in his tone was replaced by something softer—something real. But the dam inside you had already broken.
“No, I’m not okay,” you admitted, your voice cracking under the weight of everything. “I’m also a human, you know. I get tired too... I—”
You stopped yourself mid-sentence, biting your lip hard enough to hurt. No. You’d already said too much. Letting him see even this much vulnerability was dangerous—too dangerous. You didn’t owe him an explanation.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you grabbed him by the arm and picked him up effortlessly, carrying him away from the edge of the rooftop. You set him down on stable ground, saying nothing as you turned to leave.
“Wait,” he called after you, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Okay? Please, just listen to me.”
You hesitated, your back still to him.
“I didn’t mean to make things harder for you,” he said, his usual confidence completely gone. “I was just... I thought I was being clever, but I wasn’t thinking about what it was doing to you. I just... I wanted to see you. To talk to you.”
His words hung in the air, raw and honest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. The rain poured down harder, mingling with the tears that began streaming down your face. You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to break down completely in front of him.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just... stay out of trouble. Please.”
You swung away without looking back, leaving him standing there in the rain, his figure growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view.
As the wind whipped past you, the tears kept coming. The frustration, the exhaustion, the overwhelming loneliness—it all spilled out in the safety of the storm. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry.
And behind you, on that rooftop, Gojo Satoru stood drenched and motionless, staring after you with an ache in his chest he didn’t fully understand. He had never seen you like that before—so human, so tired, so vulnerable.
And for the first time, he realized just how much he’d taken you for granted.
<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>
For two whole days, you slept. The world kept spinning, but you didn’t care. You were beyond exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. It felt like your body was trying to shut itself down for repairs, and honestly, you welcomed it. After all, who cared about you? Why should you care about the world when no one seemed to care about you?
Meanwhile, Gojo was in his own spiral of chaos. The guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. He couldn’t shake the image of your trembling voice, your soaked figure disappearing into the rain. He knew he’d messed up—badly. He wanted to apologize, to tell you how sorry he was for being selfish, for not thinking about what you were going through. But... how? How was he even supposed to find you? It was like you’d vanished into thin air.
To make matters worse, there was the looming deadline for his big mechanical engineering project. Normally, he wouldn’t be too concerned. He was Gojo Satoru—charming, brilliant, and capable of pulling off a miracle at the last second. But this time, there was a twist. His professor had assigned him a partner: Y/N L/N.
He didn’t even know who that was. Sure, he’d heard the name in passing, but it wasn’t like he paid attention to anyone who wasn’t in his usual circle of admirers or friends. Now, in the middle of his existential guilt-fueled meltdown, he had to deal with the stress of finding a partner he probably wouldn’t recognize if they stood right in front of him.
His friends noticed immediately that something was off. Gojo was usually the epitome of confidence, breezing through life without a care in the world. But now, he was pacing, muttering to himself, and radiating the kind of energy that screamed, I’ve screwed up.
“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Shoko finally asked, leaning back in her chair and eyeing him suspiciously.
“Yeah, you’ve been weird for days,” Geto added, sipping his coffee. “This is, like, the longest you’ve gone without flirting with someone or bragging about yourself. Should we be worried?”
Gojo ran a hand through his damp hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. “It’s Spider-Woman,” he admitted, slumping into a chair.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Shoko groaned, rolling her eyes. “What did you do now?”
“I think I—no, I know I messed up,” Gojo said, groaning into his hands. “I was being an idiot, okay? I kept getting myself into trouble so she’d save me, and... well, she finally snapped.”
“Wait,” Geto said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you telling me Spider-Woman, the literal superhero, got mad at you? What the hell did you do?”
Gojo waved his hands wildly, exasperated. “I just wanted to talk to her! Is that so bad?!”
“Yes,” Shoko and Geto said in unison.
“Ugh, whatever,” Gojo grumbled, burying his face in his arms. “She disappeared after that night. I don’t even know where to find her now.”
“Maybe you should stop obsessing over her and focus on that project,” Shoko suggested, popping a fry into her mouth. “What’s the name of your partner again?”
“Y/N L/N or something,” Gojo said absentmindedly, frowning at the table.
Shoko froze mid-chew, exchanging a quick glance with Geto.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Geto said, trying to suppress a grin.
Gojo blinked at them, confused. “What?”
“Y/N L/N,” Shoko said slowly, smirking. “You mean the quiet girl who never talks to anyone? The one who’s always in the library?”
Gojo’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? No way. why godddd." he dropped his head to the table and started banging his head.
“Yep,” Shoko said, crossing her arms. “That’s your partner. Good luck, lover boy.”
Now, not only did Gojo have to figure out how to apologize to Spider-Woman, but he also had to track down his elusive project partner—
And honestly? He wasn’t sure which task was going to be harder.
20 | she/they | fandoms: obey me!, Yandere simulator, Doki Doki Literature Club, etc.
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