~Gojo Satoru~

If you're sure of one thing, it's that you hate Satoru Gojo. The 6'1" tall, silver-plated, cocky, and handsome astrophysicist who lives life like it's no big deal. Satoru gets everything he wants: grades that don't cost him anything because he's a natural genius, gorgeous and sinfully attractive, and no student debt because his family is outrageously rich. You hate your dorm neighbor; you hate hearing him play Overwatch at 3 a.m. through the thin walls, you hate his insufferable chatter and loud parties, you hate his stupid, perfect face. That's why you're ready to slam the door in his face while he's standing outside your dorm, proposing something fucking ridiculous. "It'll only be for two months at most, but I can't let him ruin my midterms if he catches me." Satoru says, his hands tucked into his sweats and his silvery-white hair pulled back by his thin-framed glasses. This idiot suggests you pretend to date him. Two months, damn it. To get a girl off his back. You want to laugh because it was such a piece of shit. Satoru seems to sense your disbelief and sighs, almost reluctantly, his tongue stuck to the inside of his cheek. "Look, any other girl would fall for me, and I can't have a relationship." Satoru mutters, as if that makes it any better. His no-dating policy is mainly because Satoru is a distrustful jerk who thinks everyone is in it for his family's money. No girls, well, not counting his numerous affairs, which you've had the pleasure of hearing scream about all the time. "The answer is no, Satoru." You scoff, pursing your lips. "I don't give a damn if a girl fell in love with you after a fling, and I don't give a damn if she's been following you around 24/7." “You’re going to screw up my midterms, Yuji.” Satoru's light blue eyes narrow at you, his full lips pursed. “I will pay you,”