THE GAME- Part 1: Just between us
Reader is a substitute teacher in Tokyo campus. She was hired by Gojo right after finishing university. Things with him had always been… unprofessional. But that’s just him, right? The night after the exchange event she’s invited to his house for what was supposed to be just a hangout party. She just has to remember to keep things professional.
Warnings: Pinning, kinda unrequited love. Mentions of smoking and alcohol consumption. Sexual tension. Kinda NSFW. Nothing too explicit but reader is dirty minded. Small age gap; reader is 22 and insecure about her age. Set during JJK 0 timeline. Reader rambles a lot. No use of Y/N. Use of female pronouns but it doesn’t matter for the story (will edit a gender neutral version later).
A/N: Hi! My first fic for a long long while. It’s good to be back. I thought about this cause my roommate is obsessed with Gojo and has like a hundred posters in our house. I love him as well. Please forgive if there’s many errors, had to edit this between classes, and also English is not my first language. Enjoy! Let me know if you want the continuation! Or not! <3
There was a moment while you were tripping in the second fly of stairs that you seriously thought you would drop the wine bottle. It had been warming up in the backseat of your car since morning when you bought it and probably they wouldn’t be drinking it, but somehow the idea of arriving an hour late with empty hands seemed like a bad idea to start your first post-work hangout with your colleagues.
However, in a weird manoeuvre you managed to fall sideways into the wall and not to the floor, salvaging the bottle form shattering and your knees from scraping.
It’s not like you had lost track of time napping or something; You had been hanging out with the students, which yeah, in retrospect sounded weird but you promised Kirara that if she willingly made an effort in the exchange schools event that day you would help her bleach her hair.
It all started because you had showed the second years a photo of you at their age, bubblegum pink baby lights and all, which you admitted did all by yourself and ever since then they had been bugging you about it. You felt it was important to keep mostly a good relationship with them, event though you were only the substitute teacher and your role in the school was mainly to cover for Gojo when he was doing his usual nonsense. They needed someone to trust, someone to talk about all those things they really couldn’t bring out with anyone else. So yeah, sometimes you helped Kirara with her makeup, fixed Maki’s glasses frame with permanent glue, stitched the open seam in Inumaki’s sweater, and sat in silence next to Hakari after a particularly bad outburst.
Most recently, you even caught up on work in the teachers lounge while Yuta slept in the sofa, too terrified to do it alone in his own room.
So, when they won the event (mostly thanks to Okkostu’s work but who is counting) you happily compiled.
At the end Kirara only wanted a streak and it wouldn’t have taken so long if it weren’t because Hakari joined the party and ordered you to bleach all the way to his scalp. And just when you thought you were done (he didn’t wanted to match the turquoise) they saw the other semi permanent dyes you had brought and… it’s incredible the way teenagers can peer pressure you.
When you finally arrived at Gojo’s apartment door he wasn’t the who opened the door, but Utahime. When she saw you she gave you a weird look, one eyebrow raised and all, which you didn’t understand until you peeked over her shoulder and your stomach dropped.
Everyone looked so… business formal. With rolled up shirts, and blouses, Shoko being the most relaxed one with jeans and a while plain shirt. Even Nanami (who you had only met in photos) had a tie. And you…
You stood in the threshold with matching purple boots, miniskirt and a white off shoulder shirt. What gave the final touch to your look was the pinkish tone that had struck to your balayage, and the metallic tinsel knitted in your scalp Kirara had insisted upon, the main reason for your delay.
“You’re late” she deadpanned, but still let you in.
It’s not like she hated you, you had been her student in Kyoto after all (and a good one if you must say), but ever since you had accepted Gojo’s offer she had been icier than usual.
Entering the apartment you noticed everyone was already there, all scattered chatting in different parts of the place. Shoko chatted with Nanami in a low tone, Akari sat on the couch looking at her phone, and Ijichi was serving himself some blueish looking punch from a bowl in the dinner table. He shyly greeted you as you made your way in.
Even Yaga was there. The only one you couldn’t see was…
A long arm linked on your neck from behind as it pulled you to a headlock. Your first instinct was to punch, push and throw whomever was restricting you, but he was quick to stabilise himself and you ended up cradled awkwardly in his side.
Gojo’s breath smelled like a weird mix between vodka and rock candies. He looked down at you, staring a moment too long, his glasses sliding in his nosebridge. You suddenly realised you rarely had him this close, and blushed.
“You’re late, doll. Traffic?”
You didn’t drive. He knew this. The rush from running up the stairs because of the broken elevator still had your breathing uneven, you just hoped it would mask the sudden jump in you heartbeat.
“Umm, I brought you this” you muttered. And extended the bottle.
Utahime sighed, deciding to finally intervene the scene.
“Gojo, let her be. You, ignore him. He’s already drunk. We gave him like a shot and half but he’s a lightweight” She took the wine from your hands and left to put in the kitchen.
Gojo didn’t falter tho. He pushed you to the living room and you tumbled as you reminded your shaky legs how to walk. “Come ooon. I will introduce you to everyone”
Both Ieiri and Kento looked up as you approached them. He looked stern, kept his glasses indoors as well.
“Nanamiii! Have you met my new apprentice? She’s the substitute teacher in Tokio campus. I scouted her myself” Gojo finally let go of you, only to pat you in the back.
Both of them starred for a couple of seconds and you cringed, until he decided to break the silence.
“So you’re the one who steps in when he’s fooling around” Nanami states, and then “I like your hair”
You blush again. Your anxiety already bubbling uncomfortably in your stomach.
“Oh yeah! I was going to say the same. Did you do something with it?” Gojo ruffles it, embarrassing you further.
“Um… Hoshi and Kinji… I let them do it?”
This piques Nanami’s interest.
It’s foolish really. You pride yourself on being liked by the teens, and he doesn’t really mean it in a bad way, but being 22 you’re very aware that you’re as far away in age from Gojo as you’re from your oldest student. You’re a great teacher, and more of a trusted adult than most sorcerers, but there’s an underlying insecurity that uncomfortably pokes at your ribs; you don’t want them to think as immature, or childish, yet somehow you keep messing up.
“So, kid, let me mix something up for you” Shoko intervened “you don’t want to be left behind” while showing you her own cup.
You’re grateful for her. She’s been counselling you when you’re feeling shaky in your own job. Every now and then even pouring some whiskey in water cones for you.
After she left you took her place in the chairs next to the balcony and finally took everything in. There were some windows in the reunion, as well as some older ex-students and assistants you hadn’t recognised who probably were new to the Kioto campus. The event was supposed to be some sort of “exchange event after party” for the adults –albeit they invited the ones who stayed behind like you– and somehow Gojo had convinced them to let him host. One would thought his apartment would be ultra luxurious, gold covered floors and all, but really it felt more of a lived in space, with mismatching chair covers, scraped doors and clean but old rugs. It might have something to do with his children, you thought.
While scanning the room your eyes inevitably fell back to him. It was almost impossible not to stare. Even like in that state –drunk and disarrayed– his factions flamed up in the crowd like a stove on a rainy night; like the very last source of heat onto the dark.
Okay. You might had a small crush on Gojo Satoru. But so did everyone, right? And It’s not like you would do anything about it anyways; He was not your boss, but, he could totally pull rank on everyone in the room. Pursuing him in any type of way would only add to the already unprofessional misconception of your persona. You didn’t want that! Surely not!
The scorching warmth of his presence stung though. In your stomach. In your throat. In your chest. In the very air you breathed. In the Venus in your body –But that last one might just be about you ovulating–.
How idiotic really, to fall for the strongest sorcerer alive. He could defeat anyone, destroy anyone. He could certainly destroy you. Even if he showed great interest in your domain, the first time you showed him. When it was time to sparr with him cause “let’s see how far can you go against me, it’ll be a good measure for your fighting abilities” you barely lasted a couple of minutes before he had you pinned face first against the mattress, a sweaty and painting mess, while he laid his own body weight to keep you from standing up.
He didnt even had to use his technique. Shame twisted like a blade in your throat, a tingly warmth pooling in between your tights. You tried to focus on literally anything else; the scorching hot of the gym mat against your face, the hair sticking to your forehead, the sun in your eyes, but the hands that held your wrist against your back pressed further every time you tried to free your body. God! If only he rocked a little bit harder every time he did maybe…
You resisted the urge to do it yourself and stopped moving. After what seemed like an eternity he finally let you go, and laughed. Playfully.
Shoko extended you a red cup, pulling you from your the memory lane. You hadn’t noticed when, but you had gotten flushed. Nanami raised an eyebrow at you.
You took the drink and peeked again at Gojo, unaware that he was now looking back. You immediately withdrew and turned to your colleagues.
Right, the six eyes. You should probably stop staring.
“Are you sure you’re old enough to drink that” Nanami joked, small side smile and all.
“Barely” you grinned, shoting it back.
A couple of hours later almost everyone had left. You and Shoko had agreed on going back to campus together. As you kept checking your watch, you realised just how late it was getting. Should you ask her to end the night? Surely you didn’t want to ruin one of her only nights out, and even less inconvenience her, right? Would she consider you boring? Pushy? She shouldn’t have to feel like she was taking care of you, but you didn’t want to take a cab at night alone either, or public transport.
Someone next to you passed a cup into your hands, when you looked up you were met with a small grin.
“Are you drunk yet, doll” He asked. The tinsel reflecting in his eyes like sunrays on the bluest sea.
The truth is, all night you had been sipping drinks in order to have something to do with your hands. Bad for your nerves maybe, but at some point everything got so numb you actually started to have fun.
“-the fuck is this Satoru?” Skeptical, you peeked. Whatever mixture he had made it was a blackish purple with something that looked like edible glitter.
He laughed. The familiarity of it caved in your chest.
“It’s my special mixture. I call it the Hollow Purple”
The transtornated look you gave him sent him into another fit.
“You’re not fucking serious. Like your technique?” And then, in an uncontrollable fashion, you broke into laughter as well “this will fucking wreck me”
At this he stopped and smiled devishly. Suddenly you could realise how much he was towering over you.
“Want something to actually wreck you?”
For a moment, the static buzzing between you two could snap and sizzle like a live wire. God. Fucking idiot.
Well, you were already in his house. If that’s what he meant. Surely it wasn’t but… maybe you could make it quick, scape to a room, a closet. Nobody would have to know. You just had to lift your skirt, and…
Nope! Professional. Barely not your boss, remember that! You had to cut the tension in some way though. So you just scoffed playfully.
“I’m going to actually call HR on you”
But your cheeks hurt of how much you had been laughing, your heart swollen. You shot back that cup as well.
“Let’s play a game. Now. All of us that are left” somebody of the assistants said, interrupting your moment “will keep things interesting”
Everyone gathered in the living room floor in a circle. Gojo, who had sat next to you, put his hands on your shoulders and shook gently.
“Nothing too risky though, or you will scare the rookie”
Everybody giggled at that
“Let her. She’s old enough to handle it” Shoko chipped in “and for the game, we should do this; One person chooses the game you’ll play, we spin this empty bottle, and whoever it lays on has to play. You can back out, of course but…”
“Okey then. What game first? Truth or dare?”
Shoko dismissed that thought with a hand gesture. “Something more interesting… like… 7 minutes on heaven?”
At that, Gojo let go of you.
From across the circle, she lit another cigarette.
“We will play the kid friendly version of course. The rules could be; two people in the same room, door unlocked but closed, can ask each other any question for 7 minutes to each other. Nothing more. You’re not allowed to touch the other person even. We will be on the other side, but won’t hear any of the confessions” She explained “you can also back out”.
He slid his glasses back on.
“Of course. Let’s do it then”
Shoko then placed the bottle in the middle and spun. The cap landed in Gojo.
Everyone clapped. One assistant whistled and the man next to him patted him in the back.
Gojo peeked at you sideways. “Would you look at that”
Your smile froze tightly. What?
“Let’s see who will be the lucky one, then”
God. So many people were still there. It could land in literally anyone right? Like. There were some of your older classmates there as well. What if in another round you paired with them? There were some things from your school days you probably shouldn’t admit to yet. Like that one time you were found in the backyard and you said you were strolling at night but in reality…
But with a soft thud, the bottle stopped. The cap pointing at you.
Suddenly you felt so much sober. Not enough thought.
A/N: Will edit this further later and make a preatty header. Also, if there are any inaccuracies with timeline or characters please forgive! I saw the first two seasons in disorder and for the third I was drunk for some of it and haven’t finished (uni work, will catch up soon).
As a disclaimer I don’t use AI, don’t like generative AI and don’t authorise my work to be used by any AI!
See you soon! Love, Rosie
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