Ი𐑼 . . . Fratjo! asks you for your number in a party but ends up with a fake one. 7 years later, fate arranged another meeting for you both.
note. romcom stuff, just a little idea i got from a comment off tiktok actually... also, my mind is completely boggled up right now, i'm genuinely so exhausted but my fingers itch to write, you get me.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ first laid eyes on you during a party mid year, they said you were one of the prettiest (but old fashioned). He's never seen you before — but, when they told you that you were from the newest batch of students from this year, he now understood.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ would usually hate new batches joining his party, only cool ones were invited. But, you? He hasn't heard about you from anyone, not that he was complaining at all because God help him and his beating heart.
Sure, he has flings here and there. Even the second you came in with that dress —old, vintage looking— that doesn't fit the dresscode. He has girls stuck to his sides, and despite their mocking laughs and questions if Satoru was going to kick you out for breaking the dress code. He doesn't, he lets you stay.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ pulled himself away from the girls despite their whines and attempts to pull him back. He excused himself anyways, slowly creeping up towards you — who by the way, was alone in the kitchen, your friend nowhere to be seen from the first second.
Satoru cleared his throat, "Never seen you around."
You look back at him in surprise, you've heard about him from your friend. Yes, the same friend that invited you. He said Satoru owns the party, he always makes them, everyone practically loves him, guys and gals. Which makes him kinda special in a way.
Nodding, you replied, "I'm new."
"Hello, new. I'm Gojo Satoru, but I prefer baby or sexy is fine too," he shows his pearly whites, and even in the blinding lights, you could perfectly see him.
"I'm (Name)(Last Name)."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ breaks it to you that you were breaking his dresscode. He watches the smile on your face drop as you looked down almost consciously at your attire. Satoru chuckled but convinced you that you could stay here.
"You're breaking my dresscode, you know?" He asks, gesturing his chin towards your dress, "Usually, I'd kick you out for that. But, since you're like a needle in a haystack, I'll let you stay."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ doesn't realize that his words made you shudder, the feeling of dislike bubbling up already. However, before you could say anything, he pops his phone out and shows you the hundreds of contacts he has registered in his phone.
"Can I have your number?" He pops the question, sipping on what seems to be Vodka from the plastic cup.
You forced a smile out and filled the contact with a fake number so he'd back off — and he did. Winking cheekily at you before leaving, you watch him return to his group of friends, the same girls flocking towards him like a moth drawn to a flame.
What an asshole, you thought.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ only realized you left when he couldn't find you anywhere to bring you to the 7 minutes in heaven circle. Questioning people all around, everyone here knows that the party stays lit up all night.
Yet, how come your presence had faded in just mere hours? He fished his phone out and sent a short message.
Gojo Satoru:
Where are u?
(Name):
Who's this?
Gojo Satoru:
Um... Gojo Satoru? You were in my party?
(Name):
Wrong number
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ clicked the pieces together and realized that you deliberately agreed to give him your number and left so he wouldn't bother you. His eyes twitched in annoyance, why would you do that? Why weren't you charmed by his words like everyone did? Fuck his words, his appearance. People liked him because he looked sexy.
So, why aren't you attracted?
"Party's over. Fuck off everyone," he mutters, pulling on the chords of the speaker in annoyance, cutting the booming music immediately. Good job, (Name), you just ruined his party.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ got his ego hurt just because some measly new girl from a new batch of students managed to fool him. He spends most of his days roaming around campus to find a glimpse of you, it wasn't even a cat and mouse game anymore. It was just him trying catch a little glimpse of you, but never once did he see you.
Satoru was starting to think that you might have transferred away after that party, but when he asked a friend, they told him that you were still enrolled and thriving.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ graduated still deprived of your presence. He stopped fucking with different girls, making parties twice per week and made it when he's in a mood to —which was almost never— and even if he hosted one, he had hoped to see you there. But, you were never there.
And to think that he never found out who invited you to the party where you both first met infuriates him to no end. Satoru held his diploma tightly, smiling for a picture with his friends that he was sure that he's never going to see anymore in 5 years time.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ hid most of his tattoos under his sleeves most of the time, now working as an influencer. Surprisingly, people find him lovely — and you wouldn't believe him if he told you that he reviews food as a living. Desserts, mostly. Starting off at big known restaurants, he now ends up to help small unknown shops around gain more people and customers.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ now, 7 years later, sat in a small restaurant in Cebu, Philippines blinked at the sight of you entering the shop. You halt, eyeing him from head to toe. He's dressed in a wife beater, a blue cap on his head, and some khakis. His tattoos were barred for the world to see and a camera was sitting on the table facing him.
His eyes widened slightly and he stood up, the stool scraping against the floor, "You!" He points at you almost accusingly.
"Me?" You replied back, confused.
"What the hell are you doing in Philippines?" He muttered.
Out of every country you could be in right now, it just happened to be in the Philippines.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ suspected that you had stalked his socials, he did say that he was going to be in the Philippines for the next couple of weeks to try the culinary there. He narrowed his eyes at you, "Did you fly from Japan to follow me here?"
See, now that's where you draw the line. At being accused of following someone you gave a fake number to 7 years ago in a frat party, "Follow you? I've been in the Philippines for three weeks for my business!"
Satoru scoffed, suspecting a lie. However, the big camera hanging by a thread around your neck said otherwise, maybe you did come here for work, "... What are you doing here?"
"I'm a wedding photographer, I didn't follow you. Can you stop suspecting me?" You retaliate with a sweet smile, noticing the looks from the owner by the cashier.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ ends up inviting you for a lunch, all while he reviewed the food. Your face on camera with him despite you trying to move away, he ends up tipping the camera closer to your face instead of his face.
"Why did you give me a fake number?" He asked suddenly, "I was actually really angry, you know?"
You groaned, "That was seven years ago—"
"Seven years of confusion and anger," he cuts you off, "I genuinely thought you were an eye candy, and I wanted to get to know you better."
You raised a brow, "After you asked for my number, you went back. With girls on you, why would I want to get close to someone who doesn't have a boundary?" He shuts his mouth.
The corner of his lips were tainted with the brown colored chicken adobo sauce, "I can't deny the love people give me—"
"There's a strong line between love and lust. Which of it are those people giving you, exactly? From what I see, there's no love. They just want the sex, and you're allowing them," you look at the camera, the red dot still signifying that it's recording, "and can you cut that. Then blur my face, I don't want drama."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ furrowed his brows and looks at the half finished plate of chicken adobo. Then he looks up at you, the creases in between his brows gradually softening at the sight of you eating slowly, "Um, yeah. I will. Of course I will, why would I let the viewers see me getting rejected..?"
You shrugged, "Influencers do anything for engagement."
"Well, I'm not those influencers. I just want people to support smaller businesses," he retorts back, chowing back down into his plate while reviewing it to the camera again with a big smile on his face.
Eventually, his recording stopped and he shoved his camera into its case, "I got a genuine question."
"Mm?"
"Can I have your real number this time?"
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ tried out the number you gave him omce he reached his AirBnB, with fingers crossed, he sent the message and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. He has never been this nervous texting a girl before.
Gojo Satoru:
Is this (Name)?
(Name):
Yeah
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ was elated at the sight of your one word confirmation. Even that was enough to make him happy — so happy that he went out all night and reviewed even snack stands around the area. Satoru asked you about your job and why you took a gig all the way out of Japan.
You told him it pays good. Satoru offered you to go and explore Philippines together during your free time, and this time, you didn't give him false hope and agreed to his offer.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ brought you around, relying on instincts and social skills while you followed him around. Trying out different food stalls and culinary around, and anything that looked edible was practically tried out.
By the end of the day, you were full and happy. You cleared your throat, "I ditched the party you hosted because you said something about you letting me stay just because I looked hot — and then I realized that you think of me as a gum, something you throw away when you don't find me as sweet anymore. You just seemed like that type of person."
Satoru stops, looking back at you in the streets of Cebu, "You thought I'd do that?"
You nodded.
He sighs softly, "You're not wrong about me finding you hot, but I actually do want to get to know you. I apologize if I said anything that made you uncomfortable, I promise you I'm not that Satoru anymore," he reassured with a small smile.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ lets you think there for a bit. Your eyes roamed on his face, and you nod, "You got rid of your piercings."
Satoru shrugged, "My mom was never happy with them anyways. And, I have not touched a cig in five years," he proudly states, "mom never liked that too, so I guess she helped."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ returned back to Japan after you did, his video boomed immediately. More people from different countries reaching out to him, asking for help. There weren't much that he could do for them in a short time besides promoting and making plans in the future to come.
You congratulated him for his 2 millions subscribers mile with a small cake. He told you he had a sweet tooth a couple of months ago — and you remembered.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ asked you out formally during a short hang out, finally able to spend an intimate dinner with you after 7 years. Throughout his campus life, girls were the one asking him out everywhere and he said yes. In his defense, most of them spent their money for him, and desperate times call for desperate measures.
By the time he reached your door, his hands were clammy. Even in front of the camera, he's never been this nervous — but the sight of you in an elegant dress made his heart stutter. His jaw dropped slightly, "Holy shit."
"What? Does it look old—"
Satoru shakes his head, "No. No. God, no. You look beautiful, I'm sorry — fuck, you look beautiful," he repeats and babbles softly.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ brought you to a place that he's always wanted to go to with a significant other. He's saved this place up for his special person, you. You'd never expect him to pull out the chair for you — in fact, you might have thought that he'd ask you to pull out the chair for him instead.
"I've always wanted to go here with my significant other," he chuckles, "been saving this place for years now."
"You were popular. Why didn't you have a girlfriend?" You asked, flipping through the menu that displayed prices way too high for your liking — but, guaranteed that it wouldn't even bother Satoru. At the sight of it, seems like you were right.
"They see me for my well — this," he gestured to everything on him, "not this," he continued, pointing at his heart.
"And how do you know if I—"
"You don't seem like the type."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ paid for you, he had the audacity to order for you behind your back when you had already refused the second dish. He at least spent more this night than you do a month! And that infuriating smile on his face as he watches you eat, "They said that the mochi ice cream here is the best. Should we try that too?"
"I'm paying —"
"Nu-uh," he waves his black card, "I asked you on a date. It's my job to pay and spoil you, yeah? So, don't worry and just eat."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ brought you home after a long night, he was shoeless, carrying your heels by the straps in between his fingers as he held your hand, guiding you towards your door.
"Sorry, Satoru. I didn't know it was gonna break like that—"
"Hey, it's okay. Nobody would know about that, I'm just glad you didn't sprain your ankle," he smiled at you, putting your heels down by the door, "I had a good night today. Can we do this again sometimes?"
You nod, "Thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it a lot, text me?"
"Don't bother. I'll call you, yeah?" He winked.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ continued filming his videos, flying across different countries and helping failing businesses grow. You were proud of his journey, watching as his viewers count rise day by day. And it dawned, would he throw you away when he finds someone better and more worth it? Maybe someone that's up to par with him?
Overthinking seeped in slowly inside your brain as he gained more subscribers. Gosh, you weren't even official with him! It shouldn't matter what happens next, right?
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ called you all the way from Malaysia, yawning after a long day. Apparently, he had fallen down in a restaurant when his chair gave up on him during a review. He giggled as he retold the story.
"Yeah. The owner felt so bad she gave me a lot of dishes for free," he tells you, the whole camera is filled with his face, "and they're asking about my piercings. I told them I used to be a bad boy on campus. Showed them a picture and they gave me Nasi Lemak."
"Yeah? That sounds great," you chuckled.
"What's up?" He asks.
"What do you mean?" You asked back.
"You're not acting like yourself," he points out, pressing the screenshots button that notified your screen that he had taken a couple of screenshots, "what's wrong?"
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ doesn't expect your question, he sat up on the bed. The frames crack under the sudden shifts of his weight.
"What do you mean if I'd hate you if I found someone up to par?" Satoru asks, his voice turning angry like he's offended that you even asked such a question, "You are up to par. I want you, what part of it is not clear to you? I'm not going to throw you like some afterthought. And if you think that, then maybe I'm not showing my love enough."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ cuts his trip in Malaysia short, after he finished filming, he flies back to Japan and ride the taxi straight to your place. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants with a luggage rolling behind him, his knuckles rapping against your door early in the morning when you're not expecting guests.
When you open the door, he lets himself in like he owns the place. Your eyes widened, "Satoru? I thought you'll be back next week—"
"And leave my girl here overthinking my love for her alone? Nah," he tossed his bag onto the couch, "I want you. What part of it is not clear enough? Who cares about these influencers and celebrities in my comments asking for a collab? I want you. I want (Name)(Last Name). I want the girl who rejected me seven years ago and gave me a fake number. I want you, (Name)."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ kissed you like there's no tomorrow, his lips were soft; contradictory of what you thought — his breaths ragged as he chased your lips despite a huff of air you needed, his fingers tangled inside your hair, pushing your head as if he was trying to mold you both together.
"Next time I film, I want you to come along so everyone knows that I'm yours and yours only, yeah? My channel is ours now, I don't care what you say," he whispers, his lips hovering of yours for a few seconds before he closed off the distance again.
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ made sure that you understand his underlying love for you from 7 years ago still stands until now. His kisses, his touches, his words were unlike what he gives to girls in the past — it's different, in a good way. He touches you like a fragile being, his words soft like he's trying to physically caress you with it, his touches linger on your skin for days.
"I love you," he mumbled out against your head, "wish you could see yourself from my eyes."
⌗ 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑱𝑶 ! ⌣ made it clear that he's yours. A new tattoo of your initial popping up right on his ring finger a few days later, now people notice and point out what it means, only to be answered with a: "love of my life".
© sashinemis, 2026 ﾒ do not copy, reconstruct, or upload on another platform + do not feed my works into AI.
