Bound In Love's Curse [Gojo Satoru x Female Readers]

163 ~ Hundred And Sixty-Three

[W]hen you stepped out of the shower, this definitely wasn't what you expected to see.

Out of the corner of your eye, something caught your attention, and when you turned to get a better look, there he was—Gojo. Dressed in his usual Jujutsu sorcerer uniform, white blindfold in place, standing outside your open bedroom window holding a handmade sign that read, in bold, messy letters: Please don't ignore me.

It was laughable, really. The look on his face would've made anyone crack a smile, but your expression remained cool, composed. "What do you think you're doing?" you asked, one brow arched in amusement, a subtle smirk teasing your lips as you crossed your arms.

Gojo, noticing that you acknowledged him, shifted his pout into that all-too-familiar smirk. "If you've got a minute, I was thinking we could—"

"No." You cut him off before he could even finish, your tone calm but firm. His smirk faltered, and you had to stifle the urge to laugh. It was always a bit too easy to throw him off his game.

"You didn't even hear me out."

"I don't need to. I already know it's gonna be something ridiculous, and I don't have time for your nonsense." Your words were sharp, but there was an underlying playfulness, the kind that only someone who knew you well enough could catch.

"W-wait—" he scrambled, dropping the sign and swinging his long legs over the windowsill as you started walking away.

You were still only wrapped in a towel, and by all accounts, you should've been annoyed, maybe even flustered. But instead, you felt nothing—his presence didn't have the same irritating buzz it usually did. Maybe it was because today he wasn't teasing you, wasn't making fun of the way you felt.

You let out a breath, keeping your composure steady. You needed to stop thinking like that, or else your heartbeat would betray you. Loving him wasn't the problem. Letting him see how much you did? That was a different story.

Without acknowledging him again, you made your way to the closet, grabbing a fresh set of your Jujutsu sorcerer uniform. Behind you, Gojo's voice was quieter now, almost tentative.

"So, is that a no to dinner, then?"

You glanced over your shoulder, a calm smirk on your lips. "It's a no to everything, Satoru."

His smile didn't falter. In fact, it deepened. "You always say that, but I know better. You'll come around."

You didn't dignify his arrogance with a response, simply letting the towel slip off your body as you reached for a fresh G-string thong. The shift in the air was immediate. His cursed energy flickered, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. You could feel his attention on you, a silent tension building in the room.

You could've been kinder—dressed in the closet or at least out of his view—but you didn't. Instead, you stood there, every movement deliberate, like you were daring him to react. He could look all he wanted, but that's all he'd get. Watching. Never touching. That was the unspoken rule.

Behind you, you heard him swallow, the subtle shift in his posture betraying his struggle to maintain composure. His voice, usually so confident, wavered just enough for you to catch. "You know, I'm not just here to mess around this time."

You cast a glance over your shoulder, catching sight of the twitch in his jaw, and—more telling—the growing tension in his pants. For someone who prided himself on being untouchable, Gojo Satoru was losing his grip, but you knew what buttons to press, and you pressed them mercilessly.

"Go on," you urged smoothly, pulling up your short leggings with deliberate slowness, as if you hadn't noticed the strain in his voice or the way his cursed energy prodded against yours.

"First off, congratulations. You've been assigned your own workspace," he informed, his voice a little too casual, trying to mask the discomfort. "No more spending time in Nanami's office."

You paused, the corners of your lips curling into a faint, amused smile. "My own workspace? How generous."

You knew how things worked—personal assistants didn't just get their own workspace unless someone pulled strings. Someone like him. It wasn't difficult to guess his motivation either—he'd probably been looking for an excuse to keep you away from Nanami's office. Not jealous, though. No, not Gojo Satoru. Or so he liked to claim.

He shrugged, attempting to keep his composure, but you could see through it all. Gojo's possessiveness always showed in subtle ways, though he'd never admit it. "It's only fair. You've earned it."

"Right," you replied, voice laced with dry amusement as you turned back to the closet.

"And the second bit of news?" You asked, feigning disinterest as you began slipping into your dress. You felt his cursed energy pulse, reaching for yours instinctively, though he held it back—barely.

Gojo cleared his throat, forcing his tone back to its usual cocky rhythm. "You've got a mission today. Thought I'd tell you before Yaga gets to it."

You calmly strapped on your weapon harness, deliberately slow, catching the subtle shift in his stance from the corner of your eye. His cursed energy hung just at the edge of yours, like a tether he was struggling not to pull. For all his bravado, even Gojo had his limits. You had to give him credit—his self-control, though slipping, was impressive.

"Guess I'll go over the details with my partner then," your voice was calm, composed, barely masking the undercurrent of annoyance. His cursed energy flared for just a moment before he masked it, but the tension lingered. You didn't need to look at him to feel it. You always could.

"Oh, about that." His grin widened, and a flicker of unease sparked in your chest. You could feel something was off. "I'm your partner for today's mission. And..."

Your brow lifted slightly, turning just enough to give him a cool, expectant gaze. His silence dragged on, deliberate, as he moved closer. You held your ground, eyes narrowing as he loomed over you, daring him to continue.

"...For the upcoming missions as well." His voice carried an almost teasing edge, but you could sense the underlying intent.

Of course, he had pulled strings. The irritation flickered in your chest, though it never touched your face. You met his gaze steadily, a slow smirk curling at the corner of your lips. "Nanami would be a much better option... any day."

You didn't miss the way his eyes flickered with amusement just before he moved in, pressing a quick, almost playful kiss to your forehead. The action caught you off guard for only a second, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. He chuckled, stepping back, his back to you as he moved toward the door.

Your hand twitched, brushing lightly over the spot he kissed, but you caught yourself. Eyes sharp, you watched him, unamused but resigned. He always thought he had the upper hand.

"Come on, I'll show you to your new office," his voice was light, too casual, and you caught the hint of victory in his tone.

Following behind him, you stepped into the hallway after putting on your combat boots, your footsteps falling in sync with his as he led the way. The path felt too familiar, almost too calculated for comfort. You could feel where this was going even before the realization hit. Of course. The route was heading toward his workspace.

Perfect.

Your new workspace, conveniently located next to his. He was trying way too hard.

"Go on. Open it." His voice was drenched in mock enthusiasm, stepping aside with both hands outstretched, presenting the door as if it were some grand unveiling. That grin—the one that screamed there's a catch—was plastered on his face. You didn't need to see it to feel it.

But you weren't stupid.

Without a word, you pushed the door open and stepped inside, your composure almost slipping as you took in the sight before you.