Work Text:
Tuesday mornings were usually chaos- endless phone calls, a flood of emails, and Gojo’s dramatics on top of it. But today? Quiet. Peaceful. No ringing, no interruptions. Just a light stack of contracts and old documents to skim through. Easy.
Good thing, too. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, tossing and turning until exhaustion finally claimed you.
Gojo, however, had arrived in a surprisingly good mood. Which was… a miracle. A very welcome miracle.
He breezed into the office with his phone glued to his ear, tossing you a lazy hand gesture to follow him as he strolled past your desk. You grabbed your tablet and trailed behind, already used to his wordless summons.
The second he hung up, he collapsed dramatically onto the couch like a cat stretching into sunlight. You stayed back, silently judging him.
“Ugh, I’m so tired,” he groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “I could literally fall asleep right here.”
“Yeah, same,” you admitted with a huff, bending down to pick up the cushion that had fallen during his dive. “Barely slept last night.”
Gojo perked up immediately, grin mischievous. “Oh yeah? And what exactly were you doing last night that you barely slept? You naughty li-ow!”
The cushion hit him square in the face before he could finish.
“I was kidding!” he laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. Then, with a smirk: “Unless…” His eyebrow arched.
You rolled your eyes. “Stop. It’s not funny. You’re being weird.”
“Nah, you’re the weird one. Don’t tell me your sex life is as boring as you are.” He leaned back, arms folded behind his head like he was settling in for a nap.
Your teeth clenched, fake smile plastered on. “Mr. Gojo, can we not talk about my private life?”
“Private life, huh?” His smirk widened, voice dropping into mock seriousness. “Damn, are you-”
“Please stop. ” You cut him off, raising a hand like a stop sign. “You’re making me very uncomfortable.”
“Oh? Is that so?” His eyebrow shot up again, slow grin curling at the corners of his mouth. “Well… in that case…” He leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming. “…I know exactly what to do to make you feel very comfortable.”
You stared at him flatly for three long seconds before deadpanning:
“Yeah. By shutting up.”
His grin faltered. “Wow. Harsh.”
“Not harsh enough.”
Well, that’s how the first interaction of the week with your boss went.
He gave you the usual list of things to do… and then promptly tuned you out while scrolling through TikTok on his phone.
By the time the clock struck noon, you were ready to faceplant onto your desk from sheer boredom. You’d scrolled through your own phone, checked everyone’s stories-yes, even Gojo’s. (He posted a picture of himself with his cat. Annoyingly… kind of adorable.)
You’d even resorted to downloading a couple of new games on your computer, but it also got boring at some point,
leaving you to huff and spin lazily around in your chair.
Closing your eyes for a moment, you thought you might actually fall asleep right there… until you remembered there were some documents sitting on your desk that needed Gojo’s signature.
With a sigh, you stood, scooped them up, and made your way toward his office.
You were just dropping off the signed vendor contracts.
That’s it.
In and out.
Easy
Minimal human interaction.
You even knocked first.
Twice.
No answer.
So you figured he wasn’t in. Maybe off somewhere in the facility working. Wrong.
You stood there, jaw almost touching the floor, one arm holding the files while the other holding the door.
What you weren’t expecting was to walk in and find Gojo Satoru, the alleged genius CEO of your company, couple top buttons of shirt undone, tie hanging loose around his neck while lip-syncing to some TikTok audio about breaking hearts and ruining lives.
He was recording himself on his phone.
You blinked.
He smirked and then winked at the camera.
You turned on your heel and walked right back out, as if none of it had ever happened. Traumatized by your boss.
Great
You heard the phone clatter and some shuffling before-
“Wait… HEY. You saw that, didn’t you?”
You didn’t answer. Just calmly returned to your desk, sat down, and started typing an email to legal about the new nondisclosure clause.
Standard Tuesday.
Gojo stood right in front of you- tall and intimidating, eye sharp, hands in his pocket with a lethal smile on his face,
“Don’t say a word.” His voice was low, almost threatening, except it was Gojo and he still had his dumb little thirst trap hair tousled like a teenager going through his messy phase.
“If I see even one whisper about this, anywhere-you’re fired.”
You didn’t even look up. “Understood, sir. I’m just a mere assistant. What do I know?”
He flinched a little at that. Yeah. He did call you that this morning, didn’t he? Right before he made you stay thirty minutes late yesterday to fix a spreadsheet he deleted himself.
The silence between you was awkward. So he did what he always does when he’s losing ground, acted like he wasn’t.
“...You didn’t think I looked that bad,” he muttered. “I mean, the lighting was good.”
You said nothing.
Just kept typing.
Click-clack.
Emotionless.
Robotic.
Done.
Later that evening, as you’re lying in bed, scrolling aimlessly, you get a text from the devil himself.
[Attachment: Video]
Satoru G. : Since you’re already traumatized, might as well see the final product 😌
Furrowing your eyebrows, you clicked on the clip, only to shut it off immediately.
You set the phone gently on your chest, blinking up at the ceiling. Head empty. No thoughts. Just the sound of your heartbeat thudding in your ears.
After a deep breath, you picked the phone back up and pressed play again.
The thirst trap was… objectively ridiculous.
That smug smirk, one eyebrow cocked like
The loose shirt, the exposed chest, and the way he stared into the camera like he was about to make out with it. Or perhaps , with himself.
You stared for a second too long.
And then you threw your phone across the bed, face burning.
“I hate him,” you muttered to yourself. “I hate him.”
The Next Morning,You walked into the office without looking at him.
He, of course, was already leaning on your desk, sipping his iced coffee like he hadn’t sinned.
“Morning,” he drawled.
You didn’t answer. Just glared. He smirked.
He knew . You watched the video. You watched the whole damn thing.
He had the audacity to wink as you tossed your bag on the desk.
Infuriating.
“Did you not sleep well last night, princess?” He teasingly smiled as he slurped his drink.
“I did. As usual” you shrugged your shoulders slightly as you turn on your computer.
“Oh yeah? As usual? Thats good”
“Mr. Gojo, there are some emails that require your attention. I’m gonna send them your way please take a look at them” you quickly added before he could say anything else. He was definitely about to say something regarding that stupid video and you were not letting him get on your nerves.
Satoru tried to hide his laugh by biting the inside of his cheek, but his eyes stayed on you, red-faced and pretending otherwise. He knew his little thirst trap had worked.
You were trying so hard to act unbothered, but he knew you too well by now.
So he let it slide, for the moment, and strolled back into his office with a grin tugging at his lips. Already, he was making a mental note to tease you later in the afternoon.
Oh, he was definitely going to ask you to hold his phone next time-just to catch the look on your face when he started doing something ridiculous.
Later That Day,Satoru’s phone buzzed. He received a message from the company credit card system. Gojo’s personal card, the one he handed you earlier with an uncharacteristically sheepish, “Buy yourself something nice, okay?”
And maybe you went a little overboard.
Just a little.Like… four designer bags and a Dyson Airwrap kind of “little.”
He screamed in his office after getting the notification.
You heard the muffled sound from his office. Didn’t even flinch. Just stirred your tea with a calm, cruel smile.
Time for payback
Gojo didn’t speak to you the rest of the day after your online retail massacre.
You didn’t care.
Your serotonin was personally delivered by a boutique courier in the form of four luxury bags and the latest tech that curled your hair like magic and made you feel expensive .
If he wanted to make thirst traps in your workplace and threaten your job, then he could deal with the consequences of funding your villain arc .
That night, as you were organizing your spoils and enjoying the sweet silence of your apartment, a wonderfully toxic idea bloomed in your head.
You grabbed your phone.
Hit record.
No dancing.
No lip syncing.
Just a clean, slow pan across your legs, the soft shimmer of lotion on your collarbone, a flash of one of the bags you bought with his money. You ended the video with a shot of your lips twisting into a smirk, and then-cut.
Posted.
Private.
One person tagged.
“Let’s see how he likes it.”
The Next Morning,You were already at your desk, going through reports like the loyal, low-level assistant you were, when Gojo barged out of his office with the energy of a man who’d just seen a ghost and also maybe some thighs.
He stopped at your desk.
Dead stare.
Wide eyes.
He was late this morning. You had a strong suspicion it was because he watched the video more than once.
“...Seriously?”
You blinked up at him, face blank. “Morning, sir. Something wrong?”
“I..no. I mean-“ he looked like he short-circuited. “That was deliberate . That was an attack.”
You gave him a saccharine smile. “I’m just an assistant. I wouldn’t know how to ‘attack’ someone as high-level as you.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“You used my money for those shoes.”
“Mm. Did I?” You crossed your legs slowly—letting the heel dangle just enough for the red sole to flash.
He made a strangled noise and retreated to his office, muttering something about HR and needing to lie down.
Ten Minutes Later
Satoru G.: You’re evil.
You : Thank you.
Satoru G. : Wanna collab on the next one? I have lighting equipment.
Later That Night, he sent you a blurry mirror selfie in another half-buttoned shirt. You responded with a photo of your receipt from a luxury spa.
He didn’t even try to argue this time. Just replied:
Satoru G : At this point, I’m just your sugar boss, huh?
You left him on read.
And then watched his thirst trap again.
Just once.
Maybe twice.
Fine. Three times. But who's counting?