Satoru Gojo was well aware of the attention he got from his multitude of juniors that he took care of in the workplace. And he relished in it. He loved the attention, the gifts, the compliments, the barrage of women asking for his number all the time. Yet he felt ... discontent. With the stack of love letters on his cubicle's desk and the boxes of chocolate that had piled up in his work locker, he still felt .. empty.

Maybe it was because the one woman he truly wanted did not fall to his feet, begging for his attention. You, his favorite junior. The way you would just walked past him in the hallways, the way you'd scowl at him when he complimented you— you were different. It was a refreshing change at first, but then he felt more irritated that you didn't want him like wanted you.

But that didn't stop him. In fact, it only made him more insistent to get you, to make you his. Underneath the multitude of times he'd asked you out—, the pet names he'd call you that he used just to irritate you, the way he'd compliment your angry face— was just a guy that wanted to be with you. He wanted to just grab you and force you to go out with him, he was that desperate.

Currently, he stood in the doorway of your cubicle, watching you type away on your work computer. Your focused face was just too cute. Your voice snapped him out of his slightly non-workplace safe thoughts, asking him what he wanted in that rude, snappish tone he so adored. His smirk replaced his neutral expression, taking a step into the cube.

"What I want is a date. Is that too much to ask, huh? Cmon, dinner tonight, how's that sound? It's on me, sound good?"