Lover Boy Gojo Is The Best Type Of Gojo - Blog Posts

your order? my heart | gojo satoru.

flirting came easy to waitress gojo satoru.. effortless, really. he could throw a wink at any woman, didn’t matter the age, and they’d all melt like he planned it. stroked his ego every time.

but you?

you were a different story. a breath of fresh air, a whole reset. before any other waitress could blink, he was halfway across the restaurant just to get to your table first.

he barely processed your order, half-listening, half-staring. your voice had that pull, light and warm, like it could talk someone out of a coma. your smile? intoxicating. and your eyes..

god, your eyes.

back in the kitchen, he slumped dramatically over the counter, forehead pressed against the cold surface. his notepad was a mess of half-written orders and little doodles that looked suspiciously like you.

“you’re embarrassing,” suguru muttered, squinting at the page.

“she’s literally heaven-sent,” satoru whined, one hand clutching his shirt.

and from that moment on, it was a mission. no one else was allowed to serve your table. didn’t matter how busy it got, if it was going to you, he was delivering it.

every time he showed up, there was a flirty comment ready.

“careful, it’s hot. like the person i’m serving it to.”

he winked, proud of himself, completely unaware that he was holding a frozen yogurt parfait.

you raised an eyebrow. he didn’t notice. too busy floating.

other times, he fumbled.

“i told the kitchen to make it nice ‘cause… you seem like someone who deserves nice things. not that the other customers don’t. just—forget it.”

at first, it was funny and cute. then it got a little…concerning.

he started overloading your table with random dishes, food you didn’t order, food no one at your table ordered. other customers were starting to complain.

it was too late when he had noticed, only when suguru pointed it out.

just as he was about to rush over, panicking, mentally rehearsing his apology and calling himself every name in the book, chef yaga stormed over, smacking him upside the head with a clean, loud thwack right in front of you.

“it’s our busiest night and you’re out here fucking around. i’m sorry about this idiot,” yaga sighed, shooting you and your friend an apologetic look.

you laughed a little, soft and kind.

“it’s okay,” you said, glancing at gojo with a smile that knocked the wind out of him. “he’s probably just overwhelmed.”

his grin twitched, and a flush crept up his ears. he leaned against the table like it was all part of the plan.

“yeah, you get it, angel. since i ruined your dinner, it’s only fair i take you out and—”

“—get back to work, gojo!”