gojo and f!reader are in a semi established relationship aka idiots in love. the best match for a drama queen is someone who indulges their drama.
divider by @/cafekitsune 🫂
When your index finger catches on the side of one of the packets of paper you are handing out to not only your fellow sorcerers and teacher but your students as well, everyone stops for a moment. Their breath catches when you hiss and you can cut the tension with a knife while everyone awaits the inevitable.
Satoru’s overzealous dramatics.
“How could they do this to you?!”
Gojo stands from where he is sitting and comes to your side, delicately holding his hand out to look at your injured finger. Despite yourself, you giggle and hold it out with a pout and everyone unfortunately witnessing the pair of you rolls their eyes at how effectively you manage to get everyone off topic completely in a matter of seconds.
“Uh, Nanamin?” Yuji leans over the shoulder of the man sitting in front of him and Kento sighs, veins already bulging out of the side of his head. “Who is “they”? Who is hurting her?”
The blonde man shakes his head and looks halfway over his shoulder, brown eyes narrowed while Gojo continues to fuss over your finger, loudly vowing revenge upon whatever cosmic force did this to you - a paper cut that probably isn’t even bleeding.
“It’s nobody, Itadori. The two of them are unfortunately very dramatic and feed off of one another.”
Yuji feigns understanding, nodding his head slowly. He doesn’t understand why Gojo is frantically petting your completely unharmed finger but it has to be one of those things about love people tell him about. It’s always the little things if the stories passed down by old people are to be believed.
This level of drama doesn’t really seem like a little thing but at least there seems to be a good understanding between you guys of what the other needs.
“Better now?” Gojo asks you and you nod with a smile, holding your unharmed finger in the air. “Yup, all good.”
A sigh of relief washes over the room, everyone’s shoulders relaxing as it appears the task at hand will return to being relevant. You shuffle the stack of papers in your hands and take a step forward, only to stumble embarrassingly when you trip over your shoes.
Everyone groans again when Gojo, who barely made his way back to his seat, rises and holds his arms in the air, palms extended.
“Not again! I warned you!” He shouts at the ceiling, balling his fists with all the drama of a man fueled by vengeance for his harmed lover.
Your cheeks warm when a room full of people turns to glance at you incredulously, lips pursed and brows raised. Satoru rants and promises heads delivered to your doorstep and you just shrug and play it off, pressing a packet to each desk in front of you.
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