Hey, Mr. Gojo ! Your hair looks sexy pushed back (｡ᵕ ◞ _◟) - m.list
Neighbor!Satoru x F!Reader : Suggestive / Fluff | 1.5k
Satoru Gojo, your flirty neighbor, asked you out for a Valentine’s dinner date after hearing about your shitty ex boyfriend dumping you the week before.
He heard the argument from the thin walls of your condo. And in his mind, when one door closes (or in this case, slams shut), another one opens!
It’s not like that lame ass bastard ever made you cum anyways. He’s probably better at pumping his cock than that guy ever was at making you finish. But Satoru’s fist-fucking was beside the point.
At first, you were hesitant. You had just been dumped by the man you thought was the love of your life! However, Satoru would be nothing if not persistent.
He told you to consider him as an escort or if you preferred, a rebound guy. He didn’t mind, he wasn’t insecure. You told him you just weren’t too keen on dating right after getting dumped.
Although, you’d be lying if you said your gaze has never lingered on him a little too long. Unfortunately for you, he’s always noticed. Especially when your eyes drift to the wrong places.
-
A few days before Valentine’s Day, he asked you again. “Are you sure you don’t want to go on a date with me, angel?”
He was close, so close—too close. The scent of his uniform filled the room. His presence was loud, it always was, but he had that way of being just enough for every person.
“I’m sure, Mr. Gojo.” You smile politely.
He pouts, frustrated but more saddened by your utter refusal to call him by his given name. “Satoru.”
“G’bye, Mr. Gojo.” You say, entering your apartment without another word as your heart beats out of your chest.
For a minute, he started at your door. He doesn’t know how to get you, and he’s just so fucking pent up and frustrated. Why couldn’t you just fall?!
He fights cursed creatures every day, which always ends up with them on their knees, begging him to spare them. Yet you, with your pretty eyes and pretty little outfits has the strongest sorcerer stumped.
Before he could even fight the urge, his legs carried him to stand in front of your door. Then he knocks.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
“Angel, open up please.” He begs, the usual pride in his tone giving way to the gentleness in his heart.
You did as you were told, coming face to face with the 6-foot something man. He took your hands in his, holding them as if they were made with the most fragile porcelain.
“Give me a chance. Just one. You won’t regret it.” Satoru held his head low. “Please.”
His actions and words rendered you speechless for a bit. Your face turned red, and you were awestruck by his sheer size. One of his hands could probably fit both of yours!
You look to the side as if someone could tell you if this war right then you look at his eyes. “One chance…” you whisper.
He smiles sweetly. “February 14th, be ready by 6PM, dress nice—fancy. Okay, angel?”
“Okay, Mist—”
“Satoru.” He interrupted.
You laugh to yourself a bit. “Okay, Satoru.”
—
When the day came, you made sure to doll up. It couldn’t hurt, right? Satoru was nice, attractive, and rich. Surely, a date with wouldn’t hurt.
6PM struck, and he knocked on your door. You opened the door only to be greeted by his charming boyish grin and a large bouquet of flowers—your favorite kind.
“Thank you, Satoru! It’s beautiful!” You coo as you held the flowers in your arms like a child.
“You look adorable, angel.” He compliments you as he lifted one of your hands up to his lips.
“Thank you…” you mumble shyly as you took your hand back.
He pouted internally, noticing how your walls are still standing high and mighty.
As you fixed a vase for his gift, you thought about what compliment you were going to throw his way. He deserved it too, right?
Satoru wore a classic dark suit that hugged his form well enough. His coat was off right now since the two of you were still indoors, but you had no doubt that he’d look even hotter with it on.
You turn red and freeze. Why the hell were you thinking about that?!
He came up from right behind you and decided to push the boundaries, pressing himself against your back, helping you arrange the flowers to fit the vase.
“Y—You don’t have to!”
“I want to.” He spoke with nonchalance.
Even through his clothes, you could feel every ridge of his body. He left very little to the imagination and yours was running wild right now. Involuntarily, you whimper to which Satoru smirks but doesn’t say a word.
—
After that entirely awkward situation, Satoru took you to his car, politely opening the passenger’s door for you before settling in the driver’s seat.
You were still thinking for a compliment you could throw at him, barely listening to his yapping. It’s not like there was nothing to compliment—fuck, you could probably compliment him for days!
He pouted and turned to you as soon as he realized that your mind was elsewhere. “Weren’t you listening, angel…?” Satoru whines, more dejected than he was frustrated.
Without another word, you said, “Mr. Gojo, your hair looks sexy pushed back.” You looked at him with full confidence, failing to see how uncalled for your words were at the moment.
He laughs. Satoru laughs.
Immediately, you felt the embarrassment creeping up your face. You turn away and hope your seat just swallows you whole.
“Did you just quote ‘Mean Girls’ at me? And remember, it’s Satoru now.” He spoke, still giggling to himself quietly in order to not provoke you further, which he failed at.
You huff, refusing to face him. “No, I meant it. The least you could do is be nice about it, asshole!”
To say Satoru was shocked was an understatement. You had never ever been mean. But he probably has a way of bringing out that side of people, take his coworker, Utahime, for example!
“C’mon, baby. Don’t be so mean. I also think my hair looks sexy pushed back.” He teased with a sultry tone.
After that, you stopped speaking to him entirely.
—
Maybe it was out of embarrassment… or you just wanted him to chase after you, but Satoru was still going to get ignored in this fancy restaurant.
“Angel, c’mon… I’m sorry for laughing.” He says as he held out his hand on the table for you to take.
You looked away, huffing dramatically as the waiter delayed your food for the nth time because Satoru glared at him. He didn’t want to start eating while you’re still upset about his actions.
He adjusts his collar with one hand, sucking in his teeth like a frustrated salaryman. You’d be stupid if you wouldn’t watch. He catches your sideward glance. “Oh?” He smirks. “You like that, huh? Maybe you’re just hungry, angel.”
Satoru raised his hand and signaled for your meals to be taken out of the kitchen. “I ordered something I knew you’d like.” The waiter sighs in relief.
You glare, then speak, “I highly doubt it, Mr. Gojo.”
“Satoru.” He corrects you right away.
“Mm, no, I don’t think so.” You huff, refusing to look him in the eyes.
He thanks the heavens that they blessed him with enough patience to deal with your stubborn ass.
The food arrived quickly—and fuck. How the hell did he know your favorite food?! Was this even on the menu?? He smirks victoriously as your eyes widened. “Told ya, baby girl. I know you.”
“Are you confessing that you’re a stalker or what?”
“Just saying, damn.” He shrugs.
He runs a hand through his kept hair as you pretend that the food isn’t the best thing you’ve eaten in a while.
“What will make you happy?” He asked—dead serious.
“What?”
“What will make you happy.” He repeats.
“I—I don’t know…” you murmur.
“Just tell me, and I’ll move Heaven and Earth for it to come true.” He smiles.
You giggle, mood shifting. “Okay, Satoru.”
Hm, well, at least in the future, he’ll know if you’re mad at him or not by the name you use when calling him.
“D’ya like the food, angel?” He asked, never missing the term of endearment reserved for you and you only.
You nod in response as you took a hefty bite.
“I’m glad you do.” He says as you feel a socked foot gently rubbing the bridge of your own. Maybe he thought it’d comfort you. Or he just wanted to be creepy. Either way, it’d be right up his alley.
-
He asked you a million questions ranging from kind of normal to weird. It was like you were on a talkshow hot seat. Funnily enough, you enjoyed answering them.
“Where were you born?”
“Hokkaido.”
“What college did you go to?”
“UTokyo.”
“Is Thursday green or orange?”
“Obviously green.” You scoffed.
“How tall do you think I am?”
“5-foot—”
“Wrong!” You weren’t even finished guessing yet.
“Do you really think my hair looks sexy pushed back?”
You roll your eyes, “You’re insufferable.”
Oh, fuck him. You were going to ruin his perfect hair sooner or later if it’s the last thing you’d do!
© This work belongs to @wkbsrco, DO NOT repost / recreate | Was Satoru’s fist-fucking beside the point? Answer in the comments :p