Shame On Me || satoru gojo x f!reader

Safety

Anticipation eats you alive throughout the night as you groan to yourself each time you wake up in the early morning hours to glance at the time. Strangely excited to see what Gojo has planned for your date, it seemed it was managing to keep you awake, much to your dismay.

It's not until seven in the morning that you feel you can acceptably rise for the day, deciding to busy yourself by getting ready. As you turn on the shower, you can hear heavy footsteps overhead, which is unusual for this time and you wonder if the anticipation is eating away at Satoru just as it is at you.

You giggle to yourself at the thought. To think that the two people who could barely stand to be in a room with one another were now barely able to sleep like children awaiting Christmas morning all for a date.

What a world.

Choosing an outfit for the date is an equally difficult task. Of course, you know he'll compliment you no matter what you wear, but you really hadn't brought that much clothing since moving here a few months ago in the grand scheme of things. You wanted to wear something for the occasion.

As you eye your closet from where you'd plopped down on your back over barely folded blankets, one dress catches your eye. A small black dress, more form-fitting than your usual sundresses, though still fairly casual, that falls quite high on your thighs and reveals more skin than you usually show off as well.

The same black dress Satoru had commented on when you'd carried it over to the cabin.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you pull it on over your head, flattening it down as you stare at yourself in the mirror. It hugs your curves in just the right way, accentuating your form in a way that makes you feel hot, although you wonder if it'll even be appropriate for whatever Satoru has planned.

Steeling your resolve, you throw on a cute light brown cardigan over the dress to feign a more casual look and head out to the kitchen.

Satoru's back faces you. His hair is damp, fresh from a shower and dripping down his bare back. His muscles ripple in the most eye-catching way as you catch yourself practically drooling over him. A pair of gray slacks hangs low on his hips, while a button-up shirt hangs from the back of the chair. Maybe the dress wouldn't be too fancy after all.

Taking a few steps into the kitchen, you peer over Satoru's side to see what he's cooking. It's rare to find him cooking on a Sunday. Or at all, really. Now that you were feeling better, Satoru rarely got in front of the stove aside from Saturday mornings. You'd taken to cooking more often and he'd returned to his poor eating habits, which you made sure to scold him for.

Of course, Gojo wasn't always the best listener. He didn't care much for your lessons in taking care of himself.

"Well don't you look gorgeous?" He grins at you from over the rounds of his glasses.

Blush paints your cheeks at his compliment as you smile up at him through your lashes.

"Pretty thing like you might just take my breath away," he smirks, flipping a pancake.

"Toruuu," you let out a breathy chuckle, averting your gaze from his striking blue ones that bore into you.

Setting the spatula down, he turns to face you, chuckling at the way your eyes travel his toned frame with little subtlety. "Nuh uh," he chides, a forefinger and thumb gently lifting your chin as he leans down to your level. Your breath hitches at the close proximity. "C'mon, give me a twirl."

He takes a step back, making a small spinning motion with his finger. His face twists into one of mock thought, as though he's judging you like a contestant on one of the cheesy reality shows he loves to watch.