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literaila · 1 year ago

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house rules (roommate au)

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru keeps an infinite amount of space between him and everyone else."

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, slight angst, mentions of tampons (terrifying), suggestive comments, absurdly long, alternate universe characters

a/n: to all of my frequent readers--i have never claimed to be sane :)

in the broad spectrum of things, opening the door in nothing but your bathrobe and a ridiculously bright orange clay mask is not the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you.

oh no, puking on your first ever date at seventeen definitely takes the cake. finding your seventh-grade friends bent over a table reading your diary--in which you wrote many explicit things about them, not to mention, yourself--might be even worse. riding your bike into the pond by your house in front of all of your--much older, much cooler--neighbors, even. picking up your coffee in your favorite cafe and spilling it, which was not only devastating but humiliating because you managed to spill your mocha on every other drink waiting there (effectively banning you from returning) still haunts your dreams. even walking down the street and trying to pretend like you didn't just trip over air in front of every single one of your peers still lingers in your mind, waiting for a moment of peace before it attacks.

you're used to the feeling of dread in your stomach and the nights spent thinking about all of these moments, like a scrapbook in your mind--just there to make your skin itch.

but, it does get a little bit worse when you realize the man you've opened the door to is none other than a potential roommate; and when you remember that you forgot he was coming.

or when you have to pull your robe tighter around your abdomen just to make sure that you don't give this man a show before you even shake his hand.

"is this apartment 214?" he asks, looking right at you--and your legs, naturally--with a confused grin on his face, but grin nonetheless.

so immediately you slam the door.

you turn around, with wide eyes, face crackling from the movement, and check your phone frantically. yes, it is the 18th, and yes it is 11:32, which means he was supposed to be here over a half-an-hour ago.

and also you've just slammed the door in his--satoru gojo, the only person who's even bothered to respond to your ad about an available room--face.

oh, fuck.

so you groan, refraining from knocking your head against the door just in case he can still hear, and open it again. a little bit less this time.

"gojo?" you ask, voice rough and slightly irritated.

"the one and only. i'm pretty sure this is the right apartment," he says, and you don't fail to notice his tone of voice as he continues, "but if it's not, then fate must've brought us together."

you narrow your eyes, hoping that he doesn't notice the specks of dust that ebb from your skin. "you're late."

"and you're less than dressed."

"i thought you stood me up."

he snorts. "so you started an impromptu spa day? or was this supposed to be another perk of the apartment?"

you glower, opening the door a bit more just so he can see the fury in your eyes. "i don't think someone who doesn't even text to cancel has any right to judge my self-care practices."

"i didn't cancel. i'm here."

"you're late."

"so i've heard..." he drawls.

you blink at him, and he blinks back--or at least, you're assuming. because he's wearing sunglasses even though it's cloudy outside.

and he's aggressively taller than you. he might not even fit through the door.

you don't look away, waiting for him to break. which he does because you're well-practiced in men of his standard. "so, are you going to let me in?" he asks.

"are you going to apologize for being late?"

"i'm sorry that i'm late," he says, immediately, with an air of fake sincerity. "i got stuck in traffic. i would've called, but my phone died."

"really?"

the smile reappears, as if from magic. "no, but did it make you want to let me in?"

you glare even harder--which is tough, honestly--and begin to shut the door. until your plan is interrupted by a foot. "excuse you," you say, to this man, who you already hate. and his stupid chelsea boots.

"look, i'm sorry. i'm trying to ease the tension--because honestly i wasn't expecting to get an eyeful this early in the morning, and you seem uncomfortable--"

you slam the door against his foot again.

gojo doesn't even wince. "and also, you're, like, the only person with a room in the middle of october. and i... could really use a place to put my bed. so, can i look around, at least? i'll keep my eyes closed every time i'm facing your direction. i can even give you my rent money today if it works out."

something in his voice already implies that it will.

and, well. despite your very short robe and your very dry face mask, he is the only person who's even inquired about the room. and you desperately need a roommate; someone to clean up with, someone to make coffee for, someone to argue about toilet paper direction with, and, most importantly, someone who has money and can keep you from getting evicted from the only place you've lived since high school.

so you sigh. think about moving back home and suffering at the will of your parents.

it takes about three seconds to say, "will you wait out here while i get dressed?"

an eyebrow peeks out from behind the sunglasses, as white as his hair. "how long?"

"ten minutes. maybe twenty."

"do you have a chair?" he asks and moves his foot from the door.

and so you close it without answering and rush to your room to find something that's still clean.

there's nothing that you'll actually wear, but satoru gojo doesn't deserve your fresh appearance anyway. he can have day-old wrinkled jeans and a t-shirt you got when you were twelve.

as slow as humanly possible, you remove the face mask, trying to keep your hair out of the way, and think about putting on makeup--which you probably would have done, had you remembered he was even coming--but decide not to.

in reality, it only takes about seven minutes for you to look mostly presentable and get rid of the mugs you left cluttered around the dining room table.

but you wait an extra four, just to mess with him.

and then, eleven minutes later, you open the door again to the man leaning against the wall, playing what looks like candy crush on his phone.

you attempt a fake smile.

"hey," he says, with that same grin, "you have clothes."

you drop your face. "i will close this."

he isn't phased, just pockets his phone and leans in to look behind you at the entryway.

you roll your eyes, but open the door anyway, and usher him in. he rubs his feet against your welcome mat and toys with a keychain you have hanging from a coat rack, then looks to you, like he's waiting for a tour. which, you guess, he is.

"there's only two rooms, one bath. it's not very big, so if you need a lot of space..."

"i can manage," he says, and follows you as you walk into the kitchen. "did you decorate?"

"um... sort of."

"sort of?"

"i, uh, had a roommate before and he bought most of the decorations before i moved in. but i've added a few things. i'm not picky about aesthetics."

gojo hums. "why'd he move out?"

"we were together and he cheated on me," you say, flatly, as you have been for the past month and a half. "and then told me i couldn't use his netflix account anymore after i broke up with him."

gojo merely blinks and gestures toward the wall behind you. "so you didn't buy that dancing frog thing?"

you turn around, rolling your eyes. "no. i forgot that was there."

"okay, good, 'cause that's hideous."

you snort, but nod your head and walk down the hallway. gojo's footsteps follow you as you open the door to his potential bedroom. "it's the bigger of the two," you tell him, "but the bathroom is next to mine."

"did you change rooms?"

"what?"

"when your ex moved out. why take the smaller one?"

"oh," you rub a finger against the wall, rubbing dust off of it. "it was his room before we got together. and then we shared my current room. this was his man... den?" you try, shaking your head. "gaming room? slaughterhouse?"

gojo snorts.

"what?"

"oh, nothing," he says, airy like he's teasing you. "just curious."

you step back so he can walk around, check the carpets for stains, or look for drywall you could've hidden a body behind. but he doesn't, only watches you as you furrow your brows.

"you're not going to look around?"

"it looks like the pictures."

"yeah, but what if there are, like, bugs in the carpet? blood on the walls?"

"are there bugs in the carpet?" he asks. "blood on the walls?"

"not that i know of..."

"great, then it's perfect," he says, and steps out of the room again, whistling as he goes.

this time, you follow him, like he's the one giving the tour.

he pauses at the door a couple of feet down. "this your room?"

"yes."

"can i see?"

you scowl. "no. what do you mean 'it's perfect?'"

"i mean, i'd like to live here. it's nice. besides the frog."

you lean against the wall, trying to inspect him for any mechanical parts. is this a ploy? some joke? "you've barely been here five minutes."

"twenty with all the time i waited outside..."

"you can't just take one look and say 'yup, this is good.'"

"can't you?" he asks, challenging.

"no."

gojo's grin seems to widen, impossibly. "well, i'm not picky."

and somehow you doubt that.

but you don't get the chance to tell him that, or anything else, because he leans against the wall, still smiling at you, and asks, "so, are we roommates now?"

"you haven't even seen the lease. or heard about the house rules."

"house rules?" he repeats, dubiously. like you're making this up (which you are).

"yes."

"such as?"

"no..." you pause, 'cause this is a fickle argument. something about his stupid smile makes you want to argue with him. or maybe it's the hair. or the sunglasses. "murdering anyone in the apartment."

he laughs, unexpectedly, and sighs. "well, i guess i'll take my murdering someplace else."

"and... you can't leave any utensils in the sink."

"okay."

"and i'm not cleaning up any beard shavings, or sharing my tampons with you, or any people you have over."

"these are very extensive," he says, unserious. "anything else?"

"i..." your brows furrow. "no hogging the bathroom. hot water is fickle. and you have to recycle."

"it might be challenging, but we'll figure it out."

"these are not negotiable."

he only continues to smile at you.

eventually, after staring back with a frown that feels slightly permanent for more than a minute, you sigh again. at least you won't have to worry about moving out.

"fine. you still want to live here?"

"mmhmm."

"okay," and you stick your hand out for him to shake like this is a business transaction.

and it seems that you'll be seeing a lot more of that grin in the future.

living with satoru gojo is not... well, it's not hard. he's a normal enough roommate.

he pays his rent on time and doesn't touch the coffee you make in the morning most days--coughing when he does. he man spreads on the couch and watches movies way too loud and doesn't hang his bag up at the door, preferring to, instead, set it on the counter like a maniac. he whistles when he walks, and wears his stupid sunglasses 80% of the time, and grins at you when you're irritated, and, honestly, he's not really half bad.

he doesn't leave any huge messes for you to clean up (mostly because he doesn't use the kitchen or the dining table ever). he doesn't invite people over that keep you up all night (because he's gone most nights). and, actually, he keeps the bathroom quite clean (even if he takes up well more than half of the shower space with his weird face creams and deep conditioning treatments).

but satoru gojo is hard.

it's not what he does, but rather who he is. with his infuriating good looks--taking up most of the fair share for the rest of the population--and his subtle charm, which, if you didn't know who he was, might actually work on you, and his morning voice and his messy hair and just the way he lives.

like breathing is just what he's supposed to be doing. like he doesn't need to worry about a thing because nothing should matter if he decides he doesn't want it to.

so easygoing and naturally intuitive and far too exhausting for you.

because, as a fatal flaw of your own, you love to mess with him. somedays you'll hope he shows up just so you have someone to fight with. just so you'll be irritated instead of stressed, frustrated instead of exhausted.

it's kind of addicting, in a way. and masochistic, but you've never claimed to be completely sane.

and honestly, gojo's just asking for it.

after a mere month of living with his aura around, you come to expect his cockiness. you live to take him down a notch.

so when he's up this early in the morning, whistling like it's his god-given right, you scowl at him just as he enters the room.

"woah," he says, sliding on a bar stool in front of you. "starting early this morning?"

"you're banned from talking to me until noon."

"is this about the ice cream i ate? cause there was only a little left..."

"no it's--" you pause, frowning at him. "you ate my ice cream?"

he lays his entire torso on the counter, pathetically. "i was dying, okay? low blood sugar was going to kill me, and i couldn't see anything else but that ice cream and it wasn't even very good anyway, so, really, i was saving you from having to endure the rest of it."

"you ate my ice cream?" you repeat.

"i'll buy you more. a better kind. and then you'll understand that i was doing you a favor."

"i might kill you."

"i thought we banned homicide from the apartment."

"i was going to eat that," you whine, shoving his hands away from trying to grab your mug.

he smiles, too bright for so early in the morning. "yesterday you told me sweets weren't an appropriate breakfast."

you scoff. "yeah, cause that's all you eat. you need a green smoothie or something in the morning just to keep your heart beating for the rest of the day."

"my heart beats very well, thank you. wanna feel?"

you roll your eyes and sigh into your mug. "i'll be expecting three pints of ice cream as an apology later tonight."

gojo has already moved on, typing away on his phone, probably to some groupies he manipulated into loving him. "i can't. it's flip night at laurent's tonight, and suguru has already threatened me into coming."

"why did you say laurent's like i'm supposed to know what you mean?"

"laurent's," he repeats, looking at you.

you blink.

"the bar?" he questions, like you're crazy.

"okay, sorry, i don't exclusively hang out at bars filled with frat boys."

"it's very sophisticated,” he corrects, his frat boy nature very obvious. “i mean, i frequent there."

you laugh.

"clearly you've never been."

"i'm still expecting ice cream."

he sits back in his chair. "i have class all day."

"like you've never skipped a class."

"encouraging ditching?" he asks, mock appalled. "what kind of roommate are you?"

"the kind that doesn't steal her roommate's food. just get one of your servants to pick it up.”

gojo waves a hand at you, and that statement, apparently. and then he types another thing into his phone—to said servants you assume—and grins again. his face must’ve missed the feeling. "how about i buy you a drink instead? you can come with me tonight. meet my friends. maybe make some of your own."

"haha," you cross your arms. "if they're as bad as you, then i'm good."

"you'd probably love them. they also like to torment me, even though i'm pretty and perfectly nice to them."

"i seriously doubt that."

his eyes--oh, yes, this early in the morning he skips the sunglasses--sparkle like gems. "i have to play wingman for suguru, but it probably won't take long. you can mingle. meet someone. i think you could use a way to relieve some of that stress."

"oh, you mean the stress that you cause?"

gojo grins and you realize that you've fallen into his trap. "i'm willing to help out whenever you like," he says, deviously, "you just haven't asked yet, sweetheart."

"nor ever will," you grind out.

gojo hums and taps his fingers against the countertop. the two of you stare at each other, grin matching scowl, and eventually, he loses the contest. "so, can i plan to steal you away from eternal solitude at six?" he asks.

and just because he's right--in his weird, satoru gojo way--you nod. it might be nice to get out of the house; and meet people other than the lost freshman at work. and because you know that gojo will continue to bother you about it otherwise. he’s a very difficult person.

as if proving it, he grins all pleased with himself, so you add, "but you're buying all of my drinks." before he can get too ahead of himself.

it's not nearly loud enough in this bar. as soon as you walk in, you're sure of it.

because even with a band up on the stage, singing about loving someone or money or drugs, you can still hear gojo as he flirts with every single living thing in his twenty-foot vicinity.

he's got his grin on, styled his hair all fancy, and his clothes are signature in the way that you've probably seen him wear the same thing fifty times. maybe in a row.

but the people in this bar don't care. no, they flirt back like they already know who satoru gojo is. and maybe they do.

you don't really care, but you do have to drag him along so he can show you where you're supposed to sit and tell you the names of his friends before you get drunk enough to forget.

it takes three minutes of trailing after gojo like a lost puppy to remember that you hate going out. that you hate everything about your so-called roommate and you should've shoved his invitation down the drain along with him.

as if gojo can hear this thought, he peeks over his shoulder, smirking at you. "enjoying the view?" he asks, and you try to trip him by stepping on his heel.

unfortunately, he only swings around, walking backward through the crowd like it's going to part for him.

oh, wait. it does.

you frown at him.

"what? you don't like the music?" he pouts because that would personally offend him, of course.

"where are we going? i think we've passed that table four times already."

"i have to say hi," he says like this is obvious. "it's rude to just walk into some place without greeting everyone."

"do you own this bar?"

"what? no."

"then find your friends so we can sit down," you grumble, trying not to lose him in the sea of people. it's unlikely that you've ever seen a bar this packed. more like a club, honestly, but you wouldn't put it past gojo to lie.

eventually, he does lead you to a table, announcing, with a flourish. "don't worry, everyone, i'm here," while he bows--because of course he does. "and," he adds, "i brought a stowaway."

you peek around his shoulder to meet three people, all staring at him with the same unamused expression. one, suguru--from the many photo albums and 'trips down memory lane' gojo has bombarded you with--gives you a little wave. the other two just continue to stare at gojo.

"everyone, this is y/n, my favorite roommate. y/n, that one is suguru," he says, pointing towards him, "which you already know. the short one is shoko, and the blonde one is--"

"nanami," you cut in, "hey."

gojo frowns, looking between the two of you. "you know each other?"

"we have analytics together," you answer, sliding in to sit across them, next to gojo, naturally. "i usually cheat off of his notes."

"she gets me coffee," nanami adds, like this information is imperative.

gojo grins again. "why didn't you say anything nanamin?"

"because i didn't realize."

"who else could i have been talking about? do you know several pretty girls named y/n? you a player?"

nanami has a very familiar frown on his face, and is about to say something when suguru seems to kick gojo under the table. "satoru, i told you to stop referring to other people as 'players.'"

gojo merely rolls his eyes. "can't fight the truth," he says.

you almost smile. almost. but your eyes drift over to shoko, who sighs. "how'd you get stuck with this one?" she asks, not harsh, but not quite soft.

"he promised me alcohol."

she nods knowingly.

speaking of, you turn towards him. "you and i both know there's only one reason i'm here."

gojo flicks your forehead, but stands up. "i'll be right back," he says, "don't miss me too much."

and you all watch as he walks away, conveniently stopping at least four times to talk to several different people.

you groan. "he's not coming back is he?"

"he will," suguru says, not quite reassuringly. "probably. in an hour or so."

you cover your eyes with your hands and listen as the three of them laugh at you.

it probably is an hour or two later that you see gojo again.

you'd fallen into smooth conversation with his friends, talking about classes, and dancing, and the fact that you all shared a common enemy. it was easy enough, talking to them, like ripples in a pond. but surely if gojo had stuck around, it would've been more of a tsunami. you could see the appeal--at least for someone like your roommate. they all seemed responsible enough.

but shoko, after a twenty-second lull in conversation, decided she was better off drinking at home, and nanami quickly agreed. watching them, compared to gojo, disappear into the crowd was a different experience.

you bite your cheek unnervingly, wondering if it made you a bad roommate to want to let gojo suffer here alone and walk home by himself.

suguru pats you on the shoulder when he stands up a moment later, brushing his pants. "i'll go find satoru," he says, softly. you feel that same irritation when you realize that gojo had probably lied to you about coming here for suguru. it was almost infinitely more times likely that suguru had come here for him. "do you want me to tell him you went home?"

"how likely is it that he'll go home with someone else and it won't matter if i wait for him anyway?"

the dark-haired man considers this with a sly grin on his face. "if i tell him you left, he'll find someone to cling to. but if you're here he'll go home with you. probably drunk, though."

you run a hand through your hair, waving him off. "it's fine. i'll wait, then. but tell him that the homicide clause doesn't apply to outside the apartment."

suguru laughs, not questioning this, and walks away.

you sit there, toying with a glass someone had left behind, watching the people around you dance like it really was a club. with absolutely no one watching. not even god, evidently.

as usual, gojo lied--even though you hadn't really believed him when he said this place was sophisticated. the clear air of stale beer and vomit is enough to prove that.

you almost laugh bitterly, but then a mop of white hair appears in the chair next to you, and his grin is wider, larger than you'd remembered.

how long had that taken?

"hello hello, roomie," he sings, leaning close to you. he moves his chair, shuffling across the floor so that he's near enough to touch. "i heard you were threatening me again."

"you could hear that over the sighs of your fan club?"

gojo giggles, like he's in on the joke. his breath falls on your face. "i like it when you tell me you're going to murder me, you know."

"of course you do. how much did you drink?"

"it's not the quantity," he whispers, "it's the quality."

"your friends told me you could get drunk off of hand sanitizer."

gojo leans back, his long legs knocking against yours. "are they spreading those rumors again?"

you kick his foot away from yours but don't say anything. his eyes seem somehow wider right now, even behind his dark shades. almost like you could see them.

you blink, and gojo does it back. his lashes fluttering just enough to tell.

it almost makes you smile. laugh a little bit at his innocence--especially right now, when he's clearly not himself--some more unperturbed version of who he normally is (if that's even possible). he probably wouldn't even remember if you did laugh at him. but you refrain anyway.

gojo gasps suddenly. "oh! let's go to the store. you want ice cream, right?" his elbow slides onto the table as he rests his chin on a hand.

you kick his foot again. "i wanted a drink," you correct, "but apparently you got distracted."

"'s not my fault," he almost slurs, sadly.

"are you ready to go home?"

"i'm ready to leave. so we can get your ice cream. want to share a spoon?" his grin is unabashed. you could tell him that he is a vile, disgusting creature right now and he would probably agree.

you don't, for whatever reason.

"i don't think anywhere's open, and i don't want to drag you around while you're this drunk."

he taps your thigh with a finger. "hey. i'll have you know that i am a very proficient walker."

"oh, really?"

"learned when i was a kid and everything."

"wow, gojo, i'm very impressed," you deadpan, and look around. "do you need to say goodbye to suguru?"

he frowns. then points to himself. "gojo," he repeats, and into the crowd, "suguru."

like he's an actual toddler.

you shake your head and stand up, still looking. "can you text him?"

"i guess," he mumbles, getting out his phone and almost dropping it. he frowns like this is deeply upsetting.

so you grab it from him. "what's your passcode?"

"one one one one." you look at him with a brow raised. "cause i'm number one," he answers, pridefully.

you scoff, but look through his texts anyway, and tell suguru that you're taking him home--and never ever coming out with him again--and then hand it back to gojo.

he smiles at you. you roll your eyes.

then he grabs your hand, and begins to pull. "c'mon before they find us," he says, and it doesn't make any sense.

but were you really expecting it to?

perhaps the aftermath of drunk gojo is even more entertaining than the actual thing.

shoko hadn't been kidding when she said he was the worst drunk--and even worse when hungover.

how do you know this? oh, because you woke up at one in the afternoon--perfectly respectable for a saturday--and as soon as you dared to even open your door gojo was already groaning about the noise. so you slam it a little as you leave.

there's a grunt, like a dying cat, and two minutes later he is walking into the kitchen with slits for eyes and cotton for hair. you're not sure what he's wearing--some video game shirt--but it's wrinkled enough to match your roommate's appearance. disheveled and slightly peeved, he's almost glaring at you--like he's capable of such a thing.

you try not to laugh.

"where's the bacon?" he asks, almost slipping off of the counter as he leans on it. his hands rubbing at his eyes.

"sorry?"

"wheres the bacon?" he repeats, his voice a different register this morning. "i need emergency bacon."

"so make some. there's a pan and probably a package in the fridge."

he whines, falling against the counter again. his natural habitat. "i can't make it, i'm dying. you really want your terminally ill roommate to cook for himself?"

"i want my overdramatic roommate to act like an adult for a change."

he blows a raspberry, and his face is hidden beneath the tile of your table. you can only see his hair, which looks surprisingly soft for his state.

"did you lose some pigment in your hair?"

gojo snaps up, immediately, gasping. he pulls a strand so he can look at it, blinking rapidly. his panic quickly fades, and he blows the strand out of his eyes. "it's just dirty."

"from what?"

"i forgot to buy new bedsheets," he grumbles, once again hiding his face.

"your bedsheets are dying your hair?" you ask, with a raised brow.

"they're dirty," he repeats, rolling his eyes as he sits up. "i need to go to the store."

"um..." you look at him as he slumps against his own body, feeling greatly concerned for his survival abilities. "you buy new bedsheets?" you confirm, "instead of washing them?"

he waves a hand, blowing you, and your clearly audaious sentence away. "bacon," he says, flatly.

you roll your eyes. "pan," you point, "stove."

gojo looks like he might start crying.

and it might be his state or the fact that you don't think you've ever seen him like this--in the month you've known him--all lost and confused and a little bit ruffled at the edges. gojo's snark is usually in its top form when you see him in the morning.

so, just this once, you grab a pan, and turn on the burner.

"i'll be expecting payment for my time," you say, as you grab the bacon from the fridge.

and maybe you get your first real smile from your roommate.

you're lying on the couch reading a book when he appears, swarming like a fly.

"hello, roommate," he says, uncharacteristically pleasant, and then he sits on your legs. you try to kick him, but it proves futile because apparently he's a giant, so you wiggle your way out from under him and sit up, frowning.

"don't you have a room?" you ask.

"i could ask you the same thing," gojo tries to tickle your feet, but you move them away before he can. your frown turns into more of a glare. "what?" he asks, "we can't hang out?"

"no."

gojo pouts. "but we're roommates," he says as if it's an explanation. like being roommates binds your souls and forever intertwines the two of you.

"we are roommates because i had an extra room and you had money. that doesn't seem like thrilling grounds for friendship."

"well, how about the fact that i let you use my hair dryer the other day?" he lays down on the other side of the couch, smirking at you. "that's a friendly thing to do."

"that's the polite thing to do. i'm trying to train you. speaking of which..." you point towards the floor, "down boy."

he takes off his sunglasses, throwing them on the coffee table--which probably explains the broken mug pieces you found in the trash the other day--and lays back with his arms behind his head. his eyes are closed. "i can't be trained."

"clearly."

you sigh and relax in your corner of the couch, picking up your book again. his presence lurks like a nightmare, but, you figure, eventually, he'll get bored.

you just can't entertain him. it's like the advice you'd give to a kid being bullied: they only care about your reaction...

as if proving your point, after twenty-seven seconds of silence, he opens one eye, peeking at you. "whatcha reading?"

"a book."

he plucks it right out of your hands, inspecting the cover. how he got across the couch in 0.2 seconds, you don't know.

"what is this?" he asks, snickering a little. "word porn?"

you take it back. "it's called romance, gojo. not that i'd expect you to be familiar with anything of the sort."

he smirks, laying back down. "i have references if you need proof."

you shake your head, flipping him off, and continue to scan the words on your page without retaining any information.

seriously, his presence is impending doom itself.

"it's okay," he whispers, "you don't need to be embarrassed. everyone craves intimacy."

"i crave my fist on your face."

he snorts. "that's not very friendly."

you sigh, dropping the book again so you can look at him and his obnoxious eyes. "look, i'm tired, it's been a long week, and if you don't leave me alone i'll probably lock you outside."

"probably?"

"it's that or throwing you out the window."

gojo laughs once again, but mimes zipping his mouth shut. you roll your eyes and open your book again. your feet are entwined, but you don't mock this--if only because you're sure that gojo will start an argument about it.

the quiet lasts for two minutes and then he turns on the tv.

you groan and he laughs at you.

you're getting used to having him around, at least. and in turn, his friends. because they seem to be a package deal.

after that night at the bar, gojo--apparently--feels much more comfortable having them over. trying to bake cookies with shoko or interrupting what's supposed to be a study session between the four of them.

at least, you think, watching this happen, that you're not the only person forced to endure him.

but it's kind of... nice to see him act like a normal person, for once. to get teased by someone other than you and pout like a begrudged younger brother. the person who invites his friends over for game night (getting aggressively angry every time he loses) isn't satoru gojo, the man whom everyone is drawn to. he isn't some drunk guy charming everyone around him or a roommate that you just happened upon.

he's just another college student, laughing along with people who aren't nearly as bad as him.

and, naturally, you find yourself intertwined with these 'hang-outs' because the apartment is small, and you don't want to be left out--no, you choose not to think about how pathetic it is that satoru gojo has more friends than you do, so please don't bring it up.

and it's on this night when you're not playing uno with the four of them, but rather, watching behind all of their backs and trying to mess with gojo as much as possible.

you pretend to be idly cleaning in the kitchen, when really you're standing behind him, mouthing to suguru what color he has whenever he's about to win.

"hmm," the sly-mouthed man says this time, "green."

shoko puts down a seven, and gojo groans again. "seriously?" he asks, but begins drawing cards.

you try--and fail--not to giggle behind him. to which, of course, he turns around with an obvious glare in his eyes. "what are you doing?"

the sink isn't on, and there are no dishes to be seen in the kitchen. nonetheless, you point uselessly to the roll of paper towels on the counter. "cleaning."

"you're cleaning air?"

"sorry, i didn't realize i was banned from loitering in my own home."

he turns back around, looking at suguru for a moment, then back at you. it's very hard to keep the smile off of your face, especially when nanami looks like he's about to break and shoko is pretending to rifle through her cards again.

how many times have you done this to him? oh, just a mere eight.

to be fair, it would've ended a long time ago if gojo wasn't such a sore loser.

he looks back and forth once more. then he frowns. "what are you doing?"

"do you want me to go hide in my room, gojo?" you ask, trying to scowl. "because i will. i was just trying to be hospitable--"

"nanamin," he interrupts. "go."

so another round of cards is placed, and this time suguru plays normally, keeping his face straight to not draw any suspicion. you lean against the wall, enjoying yourself.

(don't tell anyone, but this is the most fun you've had in a while).

and then, after a couple of rounds go by, you finally clear your throat. gojo turns to glare at you through his sunglasses and says "go stand behind suguru if you're going to watch. i don't trust you."

you raise your brows but do as he says.

and when shoko has to draw the next time, you smile and tap a couple of times on your thigh.

suguru does his best impression of gojo's grin, and says, "draw four," to shoko.

she smiles back. turns to gojo. "draw four," she repeats.

and he stares at the two of them, then the cards stacked on top of each other, and then to you, right across him. "what are you doing? i know you're doing something."

"satoru, she's just watching--"

"no, she's smiling." he looks back to you, "you're smiling. you don't do that unless i'm in pain."

"so you just assume that you're losing cause i'm... what? drawing your cards for you? shuffling the stack so only you get the bad hands?" you cock a brow at him, willing yourself not to look at anyone else at the table. it would only end in disaster.

"i--" gojo runs a hand through his hair. then he sighs and begins drawing his eight cards.

and several rounds later--with gojo losing once again--you've begun moving around the table like you're inspecting each player. gojo doesn't let you look at his cards though.

and it takes a while before he notices anything. particularly after suguru wins for the third time in a row.

he looks at everyone--brows pulled together, irritated eyes hiding behind his sunglasses, and his cheeks are flushed from how frustrated he is--and as soon as you start laughing at his face, everyone else does too. suguru throws his cards down and shakes his head. nanami shuffles the deck while trying to keep his laugh muffled--but it's there. and shoko is outwardly laughing at him, pointing at gojo and then at you.

"are you guys stealing the cards?" he asks, almost disbelieving, his voice so childlike that you start laughing even harder. "look at the deck! it's half the size that it was."

and then he's standing up and inspecting you, sticking his hands up your sleeves and finding dozens of cards hiding there, falling onto the floor.

gojo gasps in outrage, but it doesn't even matter to you.

everyone else is clutching their stomachs and gojo begins to pout. "you're all traitors," he's saying, and "how long have you been doing that?" and you almost can't breathe--

so yeah. you don't really mind these kinds of nights. and you don't complain about the messes gojo and his friends leave behind.

you shouldn't have given suguru your number. this much is obvious.

but, to be fair, you weren't exactly thinking when you were talking to him about a self-help book you'd picked up, and he was mentioning a podcast, and then he was taking your phone and putting himself in it--which, in itself, should not be dangerous--telling you that he'd send you a link and that you should let him know if you liked it, and that was that.

and really, there shouldn't be any repercussions to this. suguru is your sort of friend, and sort of friends can text on occasion.

except for the fact that he's also satoru gojo's friend. so when you wake up at ten--silently thanking yourself for taking a day off before a week of back-to-back classes and work--he's already texted you, and it's obvious that you failed somewhere in life.

maybe when you accidentally invited a demon into your house and allowed him to stay.

from suguru :p :

hey satoru is supposed to be in class right now and he won't answer me

can you please kick him awake?

but maybe it wasn't a mistake. because at least you have a good excuse to give gojo a bruise.

so you creep down the hall, reluctantly knocking on his door even though it ruins the element of surprise (you're not a monster) and listening as there's no response.

gojo must be asleep. or dead. honestly, you might've killed him in your sleep--wouldn't be the first time.

so you peek the door open, realizing now that you haven't been in his room since he moved in, and watch as a figure slithers under the covers almost before you notice. gojo is completely covered except for the foot he's left hanging off of the side of the bed.

"get up," you tell him, looking around at the sparse decorations he's put up. there are books, candy wrappers, and socks all over the floor, but it's not the messiest room you've ever seen. which is slightly surprising, considering all that you know about gojo.

he whines from under the cover, turning so you get a view of exposed skin on his back. "sleeping," he says as if you might believe him.

so you creep over trash and textbooks and pull the blanket right off of him.

gojo is already looking at you, pouting. his hair is in his eyes and his mouth is puffy--probably from kissing his pillow in his sleep. "what if i was naked under here?" he asks you, very seriously. "i don't let just anyone see that, you know?"

"you're wearing the same silk pajamas you wear every night."

he tries to pull the blanket away from you, his fingers peeling yours away. he huffs. "it's the principle. you don't just wake a man up from slumber."

you snort. "did you travel a century in your sleep?"

"yes, now go away." and then he falls back into the blankets, his words muffled.

"you have class, your highness. i've been sent to fetch you."

one eye appears from under the blanket. "how do you know my schedule?"

"telepathy. now get up."

"i can't," gojo fake coughs. "i'm sick."

"suguru said you'd say that."

he groans, turning over and muffling a few explicit words that sound like a curse upon his best friend.

you poke his back. "did you sleep through your alarm?"

he doesn't answer. his body has gone limp like you might not notice that he's there if he stays still for long enough. so you pull his hair, turning his head towards you. "you're not usually this whiny in the morning," you tell him.

"why are you so mean to me?"

you hum, pretending to consider it. "i think it's the hair. i find it pretentious."

"i could sue you. discrimination is very serious. i've got a good lawyer, too."

"i'll sue back for mental damages."

he laughs, and wiggles from your grasp.

you sigh and finally sit down at the edge of his bed, observing the lollipops he's left lying on his bedside table. gojo's bones seem to crack as he sits up with you, moaning the whole way.

you're silently observing him--with his slightly red eyes and heinous mouth. you're not used to seeing him like this in the morning; usually, he's chipper and annoying. when he walks into the kitchen in the morning you half expect him to start singing.

but this gojo is tired. he rubs at his eyes. "did suguru text you?"

"yup."

"he's a terrible friend."

you nudge him, almost like an agreement. "why aren't you in class?"

"what's even the point of going? it's not like i get a reward."

"i think the reward is graduating, but you might have to fact-check that one."

he nudges you back and then takes your hand. his fingertips are soft as they trace the tendons and veins he can see on your skin. his hands are softer than you'd have expected. his eyes are wary as they look towards the floor, his mouth twisting in displeasure. but he doesn't stop touching you, he does so idly that you almost don't notice. "i have an a in the class," he tells you, "and i already know most of the material so why would i go to every lecture?"

maybe it's the way he says it; so sure and nonchalant, in his typical over-dramatic fashion. maybe it's just that he's never mentioned any of his classes to you, or the fact that he's taking any. maybe he's just crazy--that's the most likely option--but you're suddenly curious.

"what class is it?"

"theoretical physics."

you whistle, shaking your head. "and you already know most of it?"

gojo drops your hand and looks at you. his eyes are wide. maybe he's just realized that he's been talking to you this whole time. "when i was a kid my, uh, my dad had a bunch of textbooks in his office that i used to read through every time i got in trouble," he grins, "which was a lot."

"i can imagine."

"well, it turns out you can only read something so many times before it becomes ingrained in your brain."

you pull at his bedsheet. "do you have a test today, or something?"

"no, suguru just thinks i'm lazy."

you laugh, because he is. gojo rolls his eyes at you so you don't say it. you're a little bit surprised, actually. you knew that gojo wasn't stupid (or at least, you might've known) but there's something about the proof of it. like you can't just read right through him. like maybe there's still more to learn about your roommate and maybe there always has been.

or maybe you're just tired, and he's always had the strange ability to draw irrationality out of you. and also he's an idiot.

"i just..." he starts and his smile fades, but only a little bit. he keeps a layer on while he peels a layer off. "i mean, i like the class. math is cool. but i just don't feel like it today, you know?"

and there's something about his voice as he says it. steady and true, as always, but softer. but compeltely honest.

and you've heard him complain about a million things, like every time you and suguru talk about something he doesn't understand or when the door isn't unlocked when he gets home, or when you won't add his one shirt to your laundry. you've heard every whine and every groan come from his lips.

but he's not complaining about this. just confiding.

and there's such a drastic difference that it takes you a moment to respond.

but you do eventually. "yeah, i know," you tell him and rest a hand on his thigh to squeeze.

and the way that gojo looks at you after--like you might just be saying it to make him feel better--is perplexing. his eyes are blue and maybe you've just noticed this--just started to realize that you're actually sitting with him like a normal person. and that he actually looks grateful.

you shake your head, willing yourself to look away, because maybe there is something sort of magnetic about your roommate. and it feels impossible to only have noticed this now. to realize how warm he is next to you, and how your muscles tense up when he shifts. gojo is looking at you, and it might be the first time.

so you stand up, flicking his chin. "i'll tell suguru that you're puking your guts up."

"really?"

"yup. but next time you sleep through a class i'm going to wake you up by pouring ice water on your face."

he grins. "cruel."

"and i'll record it."

you step over candy wrappers and dirty socks as you leave his room, and as soon as the door is closed you sigh in relief. you're probably better off never opening that door again.

it's a ridiculously cold night when he shows up.

you're sitting at the front desk in the library, pretending to study for a mid-term, and trying to smile at the fifth lost library card you've heard about tonight. you got this job at the beginning of the year, and it pays horribly. but at least you can sit around and study, most weekends it's quiet enough to take a nap, and no one tends to bother you when you're drooling all over the reception desk.

most weekends, that is, because as soon as he walks in through the door--letting in air so brisk that it has the potential to kill you--it gets significantly louder.

because satoru gojo is not affected by trivial things such as snow, or blizzards, or the fact that the library is supposed to close in less than ten minutes...

still, you don't really notice him--a rare circumstance that you will question later that night--until he's right next to you, breathing in your ear.

"slacking on the clock?" he asks, and just for a moment, you almost disembowel him with the pen you're holding in your hand.

but then you grunt, used to this sort of intrusion from your roommate, and push his head away. "how did you find me?" you ask him, because, honestly, this job is just an escape from his neverending antics at your house (no, it doesn't matter that you got the job before you knew that such an annoying person could possibly exist).

"i microchipped you in your sleep," gojo says, smoothly, sitting in the chair right next to yours, swiveling around. "i thought i told you about that?"

you blatantly look at the clock and ignore him. "you know that the library closes in seven minutes?"

"...and?"

"so go torment someone else," you answer, standing up with a stack of fileable papers, "i'm busy until eight."

"i'll help," gojo says, eager as always, and takes half of your stack. "where to?"

it is from two months of experience that you know he will not leave you alone. even if you chew off his fingernails and keep them to make into necklaces, gojo will follow you around as long as you make it clear you don't want him to.

so you walk towards the copying room, smiling at all of the sleep-deprived students you pass by and rolling your eyes when gojo does the same.

"how did you even find the library?"

gojo walks like he has absolutely no equilibrium; knocking into you every couple of steps, and then falling in the other direction. it must be a consequence of all of his strenuous leaning.

so he bumps into you as he replies, "tracker," like it's obvious.

you snort. "no, seriously. i didn't think you knew that libraries existed. aren't you allergic to reading?"

"hey!" he tries to trip you. "i'll have you know that i am very studious. top of my class."

"that's why you pay suguru to write your papers for you, right?"

gojo makes a small noise in the back of his throat. "he doesn't write them," he grumbles. "well, not all of them."

you snort and open a door for him to follow through.

"my study group meets here on wednesdays," gojo answers, finally.

"you're a part of a study group?"

"where do you think i go all of the time?"

you briefly consider this, setting the papers down. "cemeteries to mourn all of the people you've annoyed to death, probably. or your girlfriend's house." you shrug.

gojo sets his stack on top of yours, diligently lining them up. "i don't do that every night," he drawls, rolling his eyes. and then he winks at you. "and i don't have a girlfriend. thanks for asking."

you mess up his stack and turn away from him. "sorry, i meant girlfriends as in plural. girlfriends."

"nope, again."

gojo follows closely behind you as you begin to lock up all of the spare rooms, turning off lights and looking for any lost items. "commitment issues?" you ask, fake sympathy clouding your voice.

"sweetheart, if you want me, then just say that. you don't need to pretend to worry about anyone else." his cockiness is infuriating, but you don't even bother to scold him for it. you turn towards him with sharp eyes.

"do i seem worried to you?"

"no, but you're a bad actor," gojo hums, fingertips grazing along your skin as he inspects your face. "denial is serious. you might want to see a doctor."

"you would know," you answer, glaring and pulling away from him. the two of you walk as people begin to trek out of the library, no longer held captive by the idea of studying.

gojo is much too close, as usual, his sweater brushing against yours.

"how'd you even know i was here?" you ask him, after a minute of silence.

"please," he answers, grinning down at you. "i got a PI as soon as you gave me my key."

you squint. "did you actually?"

he laughs. "no. you told shoko, and shoko told me..."

you nod, clearing the desk of your things, tossing your bag at gojo for him to carry. "so why are you here?"

he clears his throat, unplugging the cord to your computer and wrapping it around his hand. "i was walking by, and i thought i'd see if you wanted to come with me for drinks after your shift."

"drinks?" you repeat, taking the cord from his hands.

"flip night."

you groan. "i am never participating in that again after what happened last time."

"it wasn't that bad."

"i had to drag you home and you almost threw up in my hair."

gojo smiles. "consider yourself lucky."

you push him out of the way and put your coat on. then you turn off the lights and push in all of the chairs, gojo not helping at all. "i didn't even get my drink," you remind him.

"okay, so let me make it up to you."

and his voice is a bit different. still arrogant, naturally, still smiling and easy--but maybe he means it? maybe beneath his, frankly, soft exterior, he feels bad for getting drunk before you could? maybe he's not actually a complete monster?

you laugh that thought away as soon as it comes.

you sigh. "are your friends going to be there?"

"yes, our friends are. they suggested i invite you."

you sigh--again, because the air is quite thin when gojo is around--and consider it. for just four seconds. but eventually, you shake your head. "i can't," you tell him, looping your arm around his so you can drag him out of the building.

"why not?"

"i'm tired, and i still need to study for a test on monday..."

"do it in the morning."

you give him a blank look. "i won't want to study if i'm hungover."

"then don't study."

you let go of his arm, shivering from the cold. gojo, of course, is not wearing a jacket, or even a little bit bothered by the air. "you're a terrible influence."

he grins. "i get it from you."

you shake your head, keeping the smile off of your face. "maybe some other time? when it's not freezing, and i don't have a big test?"

gojo looks like he wants to argue with you some more--which he usually does--but eventually, his grin ebbs into something simple and he nods. "okay, but you have to come next time i ask."

"no. what if i'm sick, or something?" you definitely would not put it past him to ask you as a method of torture.

"that's what alcohol is for." he sticks out his hand, too big and too sly.

but you relent, shaking with him, and rolling your eyes.

"okay, gojo. have fun. do not wake me up when you get home."

and you turn to walk away, but his hand catches your wrist. "what are you doing?" he asks, brow furrowed.

"...going home?"

he lets go of you and flicks your forehead. "you're not walking back by yourself," he says, like it's a crime. "c'mon."

and he falls into pace with you, even with his longer legs and fervent energy.

"this is stupid--" you start to complain, but gojo reaches for the strap of your bag, sliding it off of your shoulder. he then slings it on his own, and pulls you in a bit closer by the hem of your jacket.

he doesn't say anything, just shoves your hand in his pocket, and whistles as he walks you home.

its a couple of weeks later when you're standing at the door again, trying not to open it more than necessary.

but, really, how wide is too wide? will a half-opened door signal any longing? will he think that you want him back if you open it more than three inches to pass him his box of stuff that he'd left behind and take your key back?

how do you navigate the trade-off of a frog statue that will probably haunt your dreams till the end of time?

"key," you say, without any pleasantries, not bothering to even really look at him.

even though he looks just the same, your ex. still the lying cheater you'd almost fallen in love with.

is it wrong to miss his netflix password more than him?

"thanks," he says, and you've probably been standing there with him for thirty seconds when a head appears on your shoulder.

white hair gets in your eyes, and you try to push gojo away, but he's already intruded on this exchange and you know he's not going to leave.

"go away," you tell him, not very softly.

"hello," gojo holds his hand out over your shoulder, because, again, he is ridiculously tall. "i'm--"

"key," you say again, swatting his hand away.

your ex looks at your new roommate--with all of his charm and irritating sunglasses and perfectly shaped teeth--with obvious disdain. you want to push both of them out the door and live here by yourself forever, but unfortunately, living prices disagree.

so you grab the key from his hand, give him a bland smile, and slam the door with gojo's fingers still in between.

he pulls them back just in time, still almost on top of you, and smiles when you turn around with a scowl. "a friend of yours?" he asks, slyly. he's about as subtle as a third-grader.

"no."

he messes with your hair idly, pretending to fix it. "i noticed an obvious absence where our dancing frog used to be."

"i told you, that's not mine."

"so you gave it away?"

you cross your arms. he is far too close to you. "you told me it was hideous."

"it was," he nods, vehemently, and you know his eyes are grinning at you behind those dark shades. "but now there's an empty spot on that shelf."

"we can put your tongue there when i cut it out," you give him an innocent smile and walk past him to sit on the couch. your pocket burns with the key you put there, metal like an obvious stain on your skin.

it's not that you care about him anymore, really. you don't, not even when you lay alone at night and think about him. it's more that... he doesn't think about you. he didn't, and he wouldn't have, even if you were still together.

is it wrong to be wanted by someone whose opinion is worth about as much to you as a penny you could or could not pick up on the street? should you crave being cared about by someone as awful as him?

you want to throw his key in bleach. maybe take a dip yourself.

gojo follows you, throwing himself down on the couch, and brushing you as he does so. he is very used to this kind of proximity, and the annoyed look you give him. "so that was your ex?"

"yes."

there's a brief pause, and a nice person might leave it like that. might try to console you, tell you better off. but satoru gojo is not nice, and he probably never has been. "really?" he asks. then clicks his tongue.

you interrupt whatever obnoxious statement is supposed to follow: "if you're about to say that there are a lot of more eligible bachelors, including yourself, then i'm going to say that you should probably make a zillow account."

gojo pinches your thigh. "i would never say something like that."

you look at him, just barely able to make out the shape of his eyes when he's this close. "you told me that last week when i was complaining about dating apps."

"well, it was true then."

you roll your eyes.

"i wasn't going to say that anyway."

you hum, relaxing into the hold his legs begin to have on yours. despite his abrupt and terrible personality, gojo is very warm. and he's already intruded into so much of your space--your home, your head--that it almost feels normal.

with his thighs pushing against yours and his fingertips trailing up the back of your neck.

you should slap him away, but you don't.

the last person you cuddled with was the same man who gave you the greasy key in your pocket.

you look at gojo with inquisitive eyes. "really? no bad pickup line? you were going to say something meaningful?"

"would've blown your mind, but you interrupted..." he teases, and pulls on a strand of baby hair.

"whatever will i do now?"

his hand falls from your neck, and if you weren't as comfortable as you are currently, you might think about what he's doing.

like the fact that you haven't even questioned this, or his following you around, or the fact that he knew you needed someone to pull you away from that door.

you don't think about that, but maybe you should.

still, his hand wraps around your shoulder, and you slump against him without question.

"i was..." his voice is softer, calmer than you've maybe ever heard it. it should jolt you away from him. it should do anything but keep you planted on the couch right next to him. "i was just going to say that i'm glad he's an idiot."

"getting turned on by my pain?"

he laughs. "no, but, i mean, your pain my gain."

you don't even notice it when he slips off his glasses, his fingers curling around your forearm.

"where else would i find a roommate that threatens me with bodily harm?" he asks, right in your ear.

it's true enough, you guess. and at least for a moment, you don't want to rip off his arms.

and gojo mutters something that sounds like "stupid," but you aren't listening.

gojo has called in your agreement; that is the only reason you're sitting at the bar, watching him dance around with shoko--purposefully stepping on her toes--and sipping on some drink he ordered for you.

it's terribly sweet and reminds you of lotion but you drink it anyway. it's not like you bought it, and you're sure that gojo wont buy you anything else until finish it. plus it's giving you a light buzz, just enough to feel comfortable sitting there, and not like you want to run away.

it's not as busy as it was last time, the music slightly quieter, the air in the room less stiff. gojo seems less energized tonight--considering that he hasn't abandoned any of you to talk to the houseplant in the corner--even with the dancing.

which he is terrible at. it's like watching an eight-month-old learn how to stand. or a man trying to impress absolutely no one. his limbs move like they aren't even attached to his body.

"is he drunk?" you're asking suguru and nanami--who have been sitting there longer than you have. "i didn't see him order anything."

nanami laughs and suguru ruffles your hair. "that's satoru completely sober."

"...are you sure?"

"yeah, he doesn't usually drink. even that," he nods to your drink which you're sipping with a wince, "is too bitter for him."

you raise a brow, watching shoko frown at him, and then nudge him away. "he drank last time i came, though?"

suguru nods, looking away like he knows something you don't and nanami snorts.

"what?"

"he was nervous last time," nanami answers. he's got less than a smile on, but it's better than the frowns you've observed sitting next to him in class.

your brow furrows. "about what?"

suguru is about to answer, nudging nanami not very subtly, when the very topic of conversation pops up, bumping into you as he squeezes himself in between you and suguru. his presence is an interruption in itself, but he's smiling like he always does, acting like he's been there the whole time.

you might've pushed him away a week or two ago. now you just sigh and move a little so he can fit.

"did you miss me, sweetheart?" he asks you, leaning against suguru. "don't worry, i'll dance with you next."

"no, and i don't dance."

gojo rolls his eyes. "everyone dances."

you look pointedly between him and the group of people dancing in the middle of the room. an image of him almost tripping over shoko makes you smile. "well some people shouldn't."

suguru laughs and gojo grins even wider at you--his hair is slightly sweaty and his eyes are peering at you over the glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. "let's test that theory," he says, taking a step back. his tone is nothing less than suggestive. and his fingers wiggle towards you, beckoning for you to follow.

there's a twinge in your stomach and you adjust in your seat, frowning at him. "i told you that i don't dance."

"well, i do. and you owe me for last time."

you balk. "owe you for what? making sure you didn't get murdered on the street?"

gojo pouts, his face so unserious and completely genuine at the same time. "you made me dance all alone. you didn't even come watch."

"you left me--"

"just one dance?" he asks, leaning in towards you. his eyes are sparkling. "i'll get you another drink."

"you'll get me that anyway."

"i'll let you pick it this time."

"that's usually expected, you know?"

he ignores that, "c'mon," he pleads, "you know that you want to."

"i don't know that, actually."

and then someone coughs behind gojo and you realize that your friends have been listening to this entire interaction and that you'd completely forgotten they were there. how long has he been standing like that? just two inches away from your face?

"just go, y/n," shoko says, "put the rest of us out of our misery. i've been listening to him whine all night."

"hey--" gojo turns, his voice defensive.

but you take another sip of your drink, sighing as you stand up. "fine," you tell him, rolling your eyes when he turns to you with a smile. "one dance, and you can't ask me for anything else tonight."

his teeth are like rows of knives. sharp and inviting. "okay."

he holds his hand out for you again, and you take it, feeling that strange pull in the pit of your stomach.

it's probably just the alcohol, though.

you don't know how long you've been dancing with gojo.

it started with one dance where he didn't do anything except twirl you around and sway with you, like he'd accepted the fact that you weren't exactly light on your feet, singing along to the music in your ear, making snide remarks about where you'd placed your hands. moving them like pieces on a chess board.

his breath was hot on your ear. condensation on a glass.

and then you'd gradually moved to letting him lead you, after who knows how many songs, following his steps and not apologizing when your foot slammed against his, or when you bumped shoulders with him, probably creating marks on your skin.

and then his hands were on your hips, his chin resting against your shoulder, and it felt almost nice to be dancing with him. almost relaxing to forget momentarily about where you were and who you were with. it shouldn't surprise you that you're comfortable with him, but it does. there's no worry about the way you're looking at him or if anyone is watching the two of you--but then again, you might be slightly drunk.

gojo hasn't commented on how long the two of you have been dancing, and evidently, you've let the alcohol sway you into staying for more than just another song.

so now, with his lips on your ear, you're almost smiling into him. your heart is fast, and the adrenaline rush you're experiencing is a pleasant thing; if someone ripped out your heart right you wouldn't even notice.

"see?" gojo says, his voice just a murmur with all of the music swimming in your ears. "you're not so bad."

it sounds like something else to you.

"you won't be saying that in the morning," you tell him, stepping on his toes, but he doesn't pull back or move too quickly. if you thought rationally about his movements you might notice that everything he's doing is slow; like you're an animal he's trying not to scare.

"i'm used to it," he pulls back a little bit. "shoko does that too."

"'cause you deserve it."

he laughs and leans in, so you follow him.

are you just swaying now? or is he leading you in something more complex? a dance you've never heard of, or a simple in and out?

you don't know, and you really don't care.

after a moment, you sigh. "i've never danced with anyone before," you whisper to him, almost like not saying the words at all. it might be a lie, you're not quite sure.

your words are just thoughts now with no sort of intervention between your brain and your mouth. intoxication fills your lungs.

"really?"

"mhm," you hum, "no one's ever asked me."

"i don't believe you," his voice might be teasing, or serious, or he might be barking at you.

you laugh anyway. gojo's hands are firm against your skin. he feels kind of hazy, like a dream. so you laugh again.

"you okay?"

"i think i might be a little drunk."

he snorts, his breath short. "really? i didn't think you'd be a lightweight."

"you're a lightweight."

"yeah, but you already knew that. i only drink when we come here, anyway. nanami doesn't like having to drag me home."

"you're heavy," you agree, looking up at him. you can see his eyelashes from under his glasses. you can see his tongue as he moves it, and the tip of his nose. you can almost feel it when he swallows.

"sorry," he teases. his face looks different under these lights. it looks different when you're looking at him this close.

"you're kinda pretty," the words fall from your mouth as you think them, and you grin. "huh."

it shouldn't be an odd realization, but it is. his skin is almost translucent, and his mouth is sinful. his eyes are wide and bright and satoru gojo could be a sculpture if he wasn't a man.

gojo looks down at you, his brows raised. "you just noticed?"

"i don't look at you a lot."

"oh, please," he shakes his head. "i've caught you staring."

"i only stare when i'm worried that you're a robot planted by aliens or something. you say weird things."

he laughs, and his hands squeeze your waist. he could stab you in the back right now and it wouldn't even matter. you're not even worried about it. he could flirt with you all night and you don't think you'd quite mind.

you giggle at the thought, heart beating fast with every breath that comes from him.

"what?"

"you're not a bad roommate, you know?" you ask him, but maybe you're asking yourself.

"i'm not?"

"no. you're actually... kinda considerate. my old roommate--my ex--he never wanted to go anywhere with me. he wouldn't have asked me to dance."

"why not?"

"i think he thought i was stuck up. or embarassing. or not worth it," you breathe, almost airly, the words are true but they don't matter to you. not like this, pressed up against him. "i don't know."

gojo's brow furrows. "how?"

your brows furrow. "how what?"

"how could he think you're not worth it?" he repeats, and you laugh back. because it's a joke.

"you'd have to ask him."

"i don't think i'll ever be talking to him," he answers, voice rough. "it wouldn't be good for either of us. and i don't trust people with such terrible taste."

you giggle at the thought of the frog sculpture, the disgusted look on gojo's face. you can almost see through him.

"you shouldn't," you answer, not even thinking.

there's a moment where the room is quiet, everyone inhaling at the same time, and then exhaling. you feel like you fit here, somehow. like everything is moving at just the right place. this silence is a comforting feeling, the bubbles bursting in your stomach reiterating it.

"hey," gojo says, interrupting that feeling.

"what?"

"you're a good roommate, too. you're not stuck up. or embarassing."

"i'm not?"

he smiles at you. "well, you're a little mean."

you smile back. "only to you, satoru."

his face drops, but you don't notice. you lean against his chest again, your eyes fluttering shut. if you were focused enough, you could feel his heartbeat. but you don't. and you don't watch as he swallows. as his voice falters, for only a single second.

but you do look at him when he says, "my friends like you."

"they do?"

he laughs, pushing his sunglasses back up on his face. "wasn't it obvious?"

you shake your head. you're not sure how long you've been standing with him, or if it even matters. you're not even sure if you're still in the bar, or your bed, being covered with your blanket, tucked in by gentle hands.

how long has it been now?

"i like you too," gojo whispers, "just so you know."

and you could be at home, with your roommate. you could be right next to him. it doesn't matter, because you only whisper, "good," and then it's all gone.

when you wake up the next morning, gojo is already laughing at you.

your headache is a curse. your mind is in shambles. and your body aches with the manipulation of only one person.

you hate your roommate and his terrible taste in drinks and that he doesn't even say anything when you slump against the counter, not even bothering to make fun of you or complain about how terrible you are when you're drunk.

he just smiles easily, ruffling your hair.

and when he starts to cook some bacon in the pan, you don't say anything, but you go and stand next to him, letting him hold you up.

there are no words. only the popping of oil in a pan.

and that feeling, of course. because it wasn't the alcohol.

so maybe satoru gojo is your friend. you will not admit this to anyone aloud, but you concede a little bit in your head, because it's a fragile place there, and you're a terrible liar.

and so maybe you hang out with him sometimes.

it's not just the game nights or study sessions anymore. you sit on the couch and play with your phone and he sits down next to you. he'll rub your feet, or massage your legs and you let him.

only because he's kinda good at it, of course.

and sometimes you'll turn on a movie and he'll appear out of nowhere, complaining about whatever you picked, but laying down nonetheless. and after several minutes he'll move closer to you, resting his head on your thigh. and you might play with his hair, but only because it's unreasonably soft.

and some mornings when you wake up and make yourself breakfast, not even trying to be quiet, you'll make a little extra. but it's not for him, it's just a coincidence.

and he stops by the library on his way home from suguru's, or some girl's house, and the two of you will walk home together, talking about class, or the weather, or whatever gojo wants. you let him do this, because it's usually dark outside, and you don't like walking home alone.

and if he barges into your room sometimes--obviously not knocking--you only complain a little bit. and then you let him lay in your bed and mess with your things.

but only because it's the easier option, of course.

and you've missed the feeling of having someone near. and satoru gojo is easy to be around.

"gojo," you gasp, as soon as the door opens in your face. and then you scowl. "don't you knock?"

he pushes you so he can move past, raising a brow at you. "i live here." his hands are empty, and he's not wearing a coat again. just a weird button-up probably more expensive than your share of the rent. how he's survived over two decades, you're not sure.

your brows furrow at him. "well, you could give some warning if you're going to kick open the door. what if you broke my nose?"

"well, why were you standing right in front of the door when i kicked it?" gojo mimics, flicking you away, then looking down to your hands where your wallet and keys are piled up. "you going somewhere?"

"to the store."

"it's eleven."

"why thank you for that update, gojo. i really appreciate it," and then you move beside him to open the door.

but gojo grabs your hand, making sure to roll his eyes at you where you can see it, and pulls you away so he can step in front of the door. "what could you need from the store right now?"

"i need stuff."

he crosses his arms, uncharacteristically stern. "like what?"

"stuff. girl stuff. you wouldn't get it."

he gasps, mouth dropping. "oh no, did i steal too many of your tampons again?"

"first of all, that's against the apartment rules, so you better hope not. second of all, please move," you glare at him. "i need to hurry."

"you can't leave right now."

"i believe there's such a thing as free will..." you try and push him away, but he doesn't budge. "and you're not the boss of me."

"it's too late for you to walk to the store. go tomorrow."

you cross your arms. "when have i ever listened to you?" you ask him, feeling that familiar irritation crawl up your skin.

but then gojo is pulling your arms apart and resting them at your sides and saying "stop that," as a gentle chide. and that irritation molds. you push his hands away.

you want to push his hands off of the edge of the earth just so that he'll never touch you again.

"seriously, gojo, i need to go. they close at midnight."

"you can't walk to the store by yourself in the dark."

"i can do whatever i want."

"then i'm locking you in your room until tomorrow. you're grounded."

you poke his shoulder. you can't decide if he's serious or not. his voice is always teasing, and you can't see enough of his eyes. and you can't trust a single thing he says. "when did you become so overbearing?" you ask him, trying not to grind your teeth.

"when i realized how weak you are."

"weak?" you balk at him. "i'm not weak. please retract that sentence before i accidentally punch you."

"you can't even push me away from the door. i'll take my chances with your fists."

"that's because you're irritating me," you tell him, as you try to do it again. "anger distracts me."

he laughs at you, leaning even further against the door.

"gojo," you whine, trying to pinch him away instead. "stop being an ass. just get out of the way."

he holds a hand to his chest, offended. "i am showing concern about your safety," he claims, shaking his head at you.

"you are ruining my mood."

"oh, good."

you scowl. "move. right now."

"that was very intimidating," he grins at you, "but maybe try again."

you groan and try to stab him with your key, which he pushes away, still smiling, still completely the worst.

"i--" you sigh, "i don't like you very much."

he snorts.

then you pout at him, fluttering your eyelashes. "please, gojo. i'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"what is that?"

you frown. "what?"

"what's wrong with your face?"

you throw your arms up, shaking your head. then you mutter another thing about hating him under your breath and finally turn away. you set your keys and your wallet on the counter, pouting as you sit down on the couch.

gojo is there a moment later, laughing at you. "was that supposed to be convincing?"

"don't talk to me. ever again."

you shake your head, fed up with him and everything about this living situation. how are you locked in your apartment right now?

gojo tilts his head back, and then pauses for a moment.

"then how am i supposed to ask if you want to come with me to the store?" he asks, nonchalantly. "i need some stuff."

and you should be angry at him--you should probably break one of his fingers or cut his hair off in his sleep. you should tell him that you hate his company and that if he ever tells you what to do again--

but instead, you jump up from the couch, smiling at him. "let's go," you say, quickly, before you change your mind.

and you don't get to see it when gojo smiles back at you, softly.

"hey," he whispers, "you shouldn't sleep here."

gojo is shaking your shoulder gently, his breath on your face, his voice soft--even in the haze of disrupted sleep. there's a warm feeling in your belly as he speaks to you, an unknowing smile on your face.

"hmm?" you answer, trying to remember who you are and why you're here. who he is.

"it's almost midnight. what are you doing on the couch?" gojo is helping you sit up. his hands are ridiculously warm, and you don't think about how nice they feel on the bare skin of your back.

"gojo?"

he laughs. "the one and only. c'mon, i'll tuck you in."

"did you just get home?" you must still be sleeping, because his hands are so soft right now. and his voice is so quiet--like the creaking of an old house.

"yeah. are you going to get up?" he's kneeling in front of you, and his face is bare. you almost want to laugh at how bright his hair is even in the dark.

"where were you?"

he shakes his head, smiling up at you, and moves from the floor. "c'mon, sit up," he beckons, trying to get you to move your head from its place. you wince. eventually, he gives up and your heart almost disappears when he picks you up, tapping your legs so that you'll wrap them around his waist.

you do it, but only because you don't want to fall.

"why are you so tall?" you complain as he carries you to your room, feeling much more awake when you're this high in the air.

gojo snorts. "i'll take that as a thank you," he whispers in your ear and sets you on your bed. then he sits on the edge and takes your socks off, pulling the covers out from under you. his movements are slow as he covers every inch of skin he can see, his breath the only sound between the two of you.

it's colder when his hands move, and he looks at you for a moment as if trying to make sure he's satisfied with his job.

"are you going to make fun of me for this in the morning?"

gojo grins, squeezing your leg as he stands up. "probably. but only a little."

"okay," you yawn, blinking as he backs up towards the door.

"night, sweetheart," he whispers to you, and then a flash of hair is all you see before your door is closed and you drift back to sleep.

and in the morning you wake up and can't remember how you got in bed. gojo doesn't say a thing.

satoru gojo can say so much without saying a single thing.

when he burst into your room--surprising you because you hadn't realized he was home--throwing himself on your bed and mumbling something about hating his life, you didn't say a word.

and he'd sat there for ten minutes while you typed out a paper on your laptop, glancing over to him every couple of minutes, slightly worried because he hadn't moved an inch.

you've seen a lot of his moods recently. you've seen him excited about some movie you didn't understand, exhausted after a long day of classes, angry when suguru and you leave him out of a joke. but most of that, you assume, is just him being himself. every feeling he has is probably seven times larger than the average person's.

but now that he's groaning into your bed, you can tell, just from the way his body deflates, that there's something wrong. you could see it when he walked in the room, and felt it because he'd told you he was getting dinner with his parents tonight.

but if you know one thing about him, it's that he won't talk about it if you ask.

because after a couple of weeks of spending more and more time with him, you'd quickly realized that you didn't actually know much about his life. he doesn't tell any stories about his childhood, or high school years--minus the ones that he tried to suffocate suguru for letting slip. he doesn't mention his parents much, and when he does, it's nothing but the bare minimum. he mentions classes so offhandedly that you hadn't even known how extensive his studies were until suguru was teasing him about an award he'd gotten a couple of years ago.

he could talk to you for hours on end, but he wouldn't say anything.

so after realizing this, you'd resorted to asking suguru about it.

that night, gojo was asleep on the floor between your feet. his hand was under his head, and he was snoring loud enough for you to notice. you'd sat down to watch a movie with him after he'd claimed that you and suguru were losers for being tired at this hour and that he was the youngest of you all.

suguru only smiled a little bit at your question.

"satoru keeps an infinite amount of space between him and everyone else," he'd said softly, into the warm air of your apartment. "even with me, and i've known him since we were kids. his family..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

you'd frowned. "what?"

"he's always been too much for them, in a way. i mean, you know, he is too much most of the time. but he does all of it purposefully; the arrogance, the bravado. i don't know... i think he just wants to control whatever image everyone has of him. to the extent that his personality is based on pushing people away, just so he can figure out who's actually going to stick around."

you'd watched him then, with his fluttering eyelashes--his sunglasses lying on the ground next to him--and his bright hair. the gentle movement of his lips as he dreamt. he was softer like this, less forceful, less of a burden, and more of a boy.

and beautiful, of course, but that's an offhanded thought you wouldn't acknowledge.

"so, he doesn't talk to you about--" the words felt wrong, and you almost felt guilty for talking about him like this, with his best friend. but still. "--important stuff?"

"he talks to me about a lot of things. but, no, not really. i get a long-winded rant sometimes, but not often."

"then how are you supposed to know anything about him?"

suguru smiled at you, looking between you and gojo like there was a secret he didn't want to tell. he sighed. "satoru doesn't really tell me any of the important stuff because we've known each other for so long. i understand how his family is because i've watched him deal with them. i can guess how he's feeling based on his expression. but for people he hasn't known as long, like you, getting to know him is like i-spy."

suguru didn’t need to elaborate. you got it.

like trying to find little hints of him hidden between all of the mess. you'd snorted and agreed.

and it feels even more true now, with him cowering in your blankets. but still, you say nothing.

you get it, to a certain degree. vulnerability was one of the feelings you liked to push away; secrets were only supposed to be coveted by you. getting close to people was a dangerous thing, risky in its own way.

but, thinking that gojo doesn't trust you--couldn't trust you... it's more irritating than it should be. and maybe that's just because you're arrogant, and think yourself to be trustworthy. or maybe it's because you trust him, in your own unique way, even with all of his too much and extremeness.

you don't say that to him though, just like he doesn't say anything to you.

"hey," you push him with a foot. "are you drooling on my comforter?"

there's a moment of silence, then gojo rolls over. "not a lot."

you roll your eyes at him and type another sentence--a collection of words that have nothing to do with the actual essay you're writing, naturally--waiting for him to say something else.

and, predictably, he does. "why aren't you paying attention to me?"

"i'm busy, gojo."

"no, you're not."

"i am doing homework."

he looks up at you. his sunglasses are somewhere on your floor. "well, then you're definitely not busy," he grins.

you swat away a hand that tries to steal your computer.

"aren't you supposed to be at dinner?" you ask him, trying to seem like you don't care about the answer.

he sighs again. "canceled."

"why?"

"my dad had a meeting or something."

"oh."

you let the silence wade for a minute or two, trying to be discreet when you watch his face for any signs of discontent. but gojo just has his eyes closed. his hands above his head.

eventually, you nudge him again. "did you eat anything?"

he shakes his head.

"do you want me to make you something?"

an eye opens. he turns over and rests his head on his hands, squinting at you. "are you being nice to me?"

"not intentionally."

he snorts, poking you, almost in awe. "you are."

"i'm just trying to make sure you don't die, okay? who knows what you've eaten today."

he crawls up your bed, sitting right next to you so he can rest his head on your shoulder. and you should push him off, but you don't. "it's okay. i'm not very hungry."

"that's not what i asked."

gojo laughs against you, his hair brushing against your neck.

you shouldn't say anything more. you shouldn't even entertain him and his antics, and you shouldn't even care (but you do. for some, stupid, infuriating reason).

so you look at him, and your voice is soft when you ask, "you okay?" to him, hoping that it doesn't seem too intrusive. wishing that you didn't actually care if he was or not.

gojo's eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you get that feeling again.

that feeling in your stomach that makes you want to jump away from him. that makes your hands want to shake, and your voice fade. that feeling that you know--too well, too much--but can't get rid of.

like an itch you're not really supposed to scratch.

gojo swallows. "yeah," he answers, with no grin, no conceit. "i'm okay."

and it shouldn't feel like a relief to hear, but it does. you nod, look away, and go back to your computer. back to your actual life, which shouldn't have any satoru gojo in it.

but a minute later he adds: "i'd be better if you made me dinner, though."

and you pull on his hair a little. you try to pretend like his smile doesn't fill you with butterflies.

this shouldn't be happening.

it's the only reasonable thought running through your brain at the moment. the only echo you can discern, the only words you can make out in the jumble of anxiety and horror running through your mind.

he should not be this close.

gojo had only picked you up from work once again, his easy smile meeting yours as soon as he walked through the door--you'd been waiting, wondering when he was going to show up.

at seven-thirty he was there, letting in the cold air and sitting in the seat next to yours, complaining about the fact that you had a job that diverted your attention away from him while you rolled your eyes.

he sat there for the half an hour remaining in your shift, distracting you.

two months ago you would've kicked him out. would've called some make-believe security.

but you just listened while he talked to you about space theories that didn't make any sense.

and then he'd grabbed your bag for you, turning off the lights before you could, pushing in chairs while you organized the reception desk.

and his hand grabbed yours before you thought to notice--swinging along while the two of you began the walk home.

and halfway there, gojo stopped, looking up at something. "hey," he'd poked you. "look at the stars."

you'd done it, begrudgingly, squinting. "i can count, like, three."

"there's at least five."

"why did you stop me to do this? it's cold."

"because they look nice," he argues, looking down at you. "you have no eye for beauty."

and, really, you might've agreed with him. you might've pushed him away from you and told him to hurry up and you might've not cared at all.

but you could see his eyes, just a little bit, behind his sunglasses. and his smile was alabaster, and that feeling--that gasping for breath, trying to hold on to anything feeling--was there again.

and it was poking you. like a push in some direction. like a laugh telling you that you were too afraid to do anything.

you were looking at him. right at his face and the only thing you wanted to say was that he was wrong.

he was wrong because at least you knew that he looked beautiful.

but those words wouldn't leave your lips--that thought couldn't leave your head--so you were only staring at him. wishing that you'd never let him into your apartment and that he hadn't started becoming a person to you.

it wasn't fair like this.

"what?" he whispered, his smile dropping, like he could tell there was something wrong with you. like he knew you that well.

if he'd kept on smiling, you wouldn't have done it. you wouldn't have pushed up on your toes and leaned into him, and you wouldn't have kissed him like you did.

like you're doing.

and it would've been fine because you never would've started this knowing that it would eventually have to stop.

and even though it takes him less than a second to kiss you back--his lips molding to yours like an automatic reaction--you know that you shouldn't be doing this.

that you can't be doing this. not with him. not like this.

so when gojo's hands move to your waist, his breath even in your mouth, you push at his chest. and you want to run away.

"i'm--" you swallow, trying not to taste him, the bubblegum flavor of him, and almost flinch away. "i'm sorry."

gojo's mouth is frozen from where he stands two feet away. his hands are in the air like he doesn't know what to do with them. "you..."

and you've never heard him speechless before. just the idea of it makes you blurt out whatever comes to mind. "i shouldn't have done that," you tell him, and, "i didn't mean to--i don't--" you shake your head. "sorry. i'm sorry. can we forget about this? can we get home because i'm really cold?"

"you kissed me," gojo says, so simply.

the words are another blow to your heart. you were hoping that he wouldn't have noticed.

and wince and watch him, his face as it shifts, moving with each thought in his head.

"gojo, i'm really--"

"no," he interrupts, taking a step towards you.

"what?"

"that's not my name."

you frown. "yes it is?"

he shakes his head. "no, it's satoru. you've said it before, you know. you should keep saying it."

"when have i said it?" you ask, momentarily blinded by how he demands this. who is he to demand anything?

"when you were drunk."

you scoff. "i'm not just going to call you by your first name cause you want me to," you tell him, "who do you think i am?"

and then satoru laughs, shaking his head at you, his grin full-force on his face. "are you serious? you kissed me and now you don't want to call me by my first name?"

you freeze. "i said i was sorry about that," you say, weakly.

you feel like who you've always felt around him. not as easy, not as cool, never as smooth. you feel like a child caught doing something they're not supposed to. you want to run away from him, but he knows where you live.

"you're sorry?"

"i didn't mean to."

he quirks a brow. "you didn't mean to?"

"it was an accident?"

he takes another step closer. "it was an accident?"

"are you just going to keep repeating everything i say?" you ask, voice hard. this must be a dream.

satoru shakes his head at you. "no, but i have a question."

"...okay."

"if i try to kiss you right now, are you going to try and murder me? i know that we're away from the apartment right now, but it would really ruin the mood."

you stare at him.

it must be answer enough because he steps forward and he kisses you again. but this time, it feels less mechanical. his lips are soft and smooth as they push against yours--and he pushes like he's demanding something from you. like he knows more about what you can give than you do.

and he grins against you like he's doing everything exactly right.

but when satoru pulls back, your eyes stay shut. you try and banish the feeling in your stomach from your body, but it doesn't respond to idle threats.

"we shouldn't do this," you whisper to him. you don't open your eyes. you don't want to see his face and fall victim to another one of his schemes.

"why not?"

"the last time i kissed one of my roommates..." you imply, hoping that you don't have to tell him that you're scared.

"oh, right," he brushes some hair from your face. he has not moved an inch away from you. "i forgot that you're experienced."

"wasn't it obvious?"

he laughs, and then nudges your cheek with a finger. "look at me."

you shake your head.

"c'mon, just a little."

his voice is so soft. satoru is whispering like it's just for you. and you've never heard him like this and you don't think you want to see him.

"please, sweetheart?" he asks, one last time, and you have to. if only to put yourself out of your own misery. "good. now listen--"

"don't tell me what to do."

he rolls his eyes. "listen," he repeats. "i know you don't like me very much. and i know that you only keep me around for my rent money and my pretty face--"

you kinda want to hit him.

"--but i've wanted to kiss you for weeks. and i'm not good at the..." he swallows, blinking just briefly. "all of the telling stuff, but i want to be. with you. for you."

you're not sure if that's the end, or if it's the beginning. your eyes are stuck on his smile, and you're not listening to anything he said.

he's very close right now. so accessible. and it's just another reason to want to push him away.

satoru clears his throat, nudging your head with his nose. "and i'm tired of shoko and suguru calling me a coward, so it'd be great if you'd mention that you kissed me first."

your brows furrow. "you told shoko and suguru?"

"i didn't say anything," he almost swears. "they tricked me into admitting it."

"when?"

"...the day after i introduced you to them."

you pull away to observe his face. "really?"

he groans. "stop looking at me like that," he says, "it's mean."

you almost smile at him again. then close your eyes. "okay."

"havent you listened to anything i've said to you?" he asks, rhetorically. "i flirt with you every day."

"you flirt with everything."

"mmm, true," he leans his chin against your head, breathing you in. "now that i've poured my heart out for you, can we go home? it's cold out here, and i'd rather make out on our couch than that bench over there."

"who said anything about making out?"

"please," he wraps an arm around your shoulder, and smiles down at you--with all of the typical swagger--and maybe this time you let him.

1K notes · View notes

crowsofdarkness · 27 days ago

Text

A Fight For Darkness: Chapter Three

-gif not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Eric Draven(Bill Skarsgard) x Female!Reader.

Content Warnings: language, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of taking own life, black mail, blood, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use, arranged marriage, 18+ smut that I will mention at the beginning of the chapter.

Summary: An unknown text and a list full of questions for what happened to your sister leads you down to the underground fight ring that belongs to none other than Eric Draven, The Crow. Once he captures your eyes with his, the web you were desperate to untangle suddenly tightens.

Authors Note: This is not cannon to The Crow(2024). Shelly nor her and Eric's love story exist in this series. Eric does have his fast ability to heal thought. Tags are open for this series as well!

A Fight For Darkness Masterlist

ERIC

Anyone who knows me knows that I strive by my routine, I don’t let anyone or anything get in the way of that. Every morning I wake up in my loft apartment above my fight club, do exactly fifty push ups, shower, eat toast with butter with my black coffee and head down to the club where I spend all day either doing the day to day grunt office work. Or train for the next fight. Then by eleven p.m when I closed the fight club, I sauntered back up the stairs to my apartment where I shower and then climbed into bed at exactly midnight only to wake up by six in the morning to do it all over again.

I’d done this every day the last three years since I’ve opened up the fight club, only deterring when the occasional hook up decided to show up but that was so far in between. Especially the last few weeks. I had some girls show up on fight nights wanting to celebrate my win, to which I indulged in a couple. But every time one of the women would lay underneath me, all I could picture was a certain pair of fear filled eyes that flamed with defiance.

Ever since Y/N’s eyes began haunting my hook ups, I put an end to them. Not only were they disrupting my routine, they were getting in the way of my current mission.

Again, anyone who knows me knows I never deter from my routine.

So tell me why I was sitting on my bike across the street from this stupid frilly cafe watching those fear filled and defiant eyes scanning over something on her laptop?

Y/N didn’t heed my warnings not to look more into her sister's disappearance. Instead, she went full force into it, meeting with random men who either played her along wanting something more or others who sent her off in different directions to make her run into another cold lead.

It had been almost a month since I told her I never wanted to see her face again yet I’d been watching her every movement for the last two weeks. Either she would hang inside of her apartment which was on the ground floor which made it easy for me to watch her through her windows or she would hang out at different cafe’s. Y/N never noticed me watching since I made sure to keep some distance between us. She had been at this cafe for over four hours now, running through three cups of whatever green drink she’d been drinking. I couldn’t see exactly what she’d been looking at on her laptop due to my position but I knew it had to do with her sister.

I too had been looking into her missing sister the last few days and what I found out wasn’t exactly shocking, given what happened at my fight club the night Y/N showed up. Which, I was still metaphorically cleaning up by the way. I had my guys dispose of the two bodies and scrub the room with bleach from top to bottom and I wiped clean the security footage after I studied it for hours on end. The first few times, I watched the two guards of Roeg and how they got inside of my club. But I soon found myself watching Y/N on the security footage. The way her dress fit her body like a glove that night, the tops of her breasts exposed due to the low cut. Or the way she turned away in disgust as I fought my opponent that night.

Every single time I replayed the security footage, my cock would throb inside of my jeans before I’d pull it out with a grip so tight, it made my breath catch in my throat. How the hell had this little minx come into my life unexpectedly and completely turn it upside down?

You know it wasn’t unexpected. There was a reason why Y/N showed up at your club that night.

Running a hand over my jaw, I continued to watch Y/N as she sat on the patio of the cafe, typing away at her laptop. There was a soft breeze in Detroit today causing the hem of her dress to blow off of her thighs, giving me sight of her skin begging to be marked by me. As long as the weather allowed it, she always wore a dress. I’ve realized she loved to show parts of her body whenever she could and everytime I caught sight of her, my cock begged to be let out. To feel her cunt clench around me.

“Fucking focus,” I grumbled to myself, seconds before my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Forcing my eyes away from Y/N, I pulled out my phone to see a new message from Greg, one of my guards.

Greg: Fight tonight at eleven. Main event. Any invites you want me to send out?

My eyes flicked over to Y/N across the street, letting them linger for a few moments before I clicked out of my text thread with Greg and opened a new one. Once I finished, I pocketed my phone in time to see Y/N grab hers which was on the table next to her laptop. Her furrowed brows extended as her eyes wideband when she read the text I had sent her, her face looking around rapidly to her surroundings. With a wicked smirk, I placed my helmet back on before she caught sight of me and brought my bike to life, peeling away from the curb for the first time in four hours.

READER

I stood in front of the familiar door, weighing my options. Ever since I received the text earlier today, the one with the bloody crow and some words attached to it, all I could think was if it was a good idea or not to go.

Unknown: Try not to turn away when I fight tonight, little crow. Also, green is your color.

Immediately after I read the text, I looked around my surroundings because I had been wearing a green dress earlier so they were watching me. It was insane how one word could set my body ablaze even though I had no clue who sent that text.

Correction, I knew exactly who sent that text.

Eric Draven.

I hadn’t seen nor heard from him since that night in his club almost a month ago. I’d been busy doing the exact opposite of what he told me that night. I continued to look into what happened to my sister only this time, it was all I focused on. I took time off of work to put my all into it. There was a reason why I was invited the first time to that fight club and given what I found during my research, I didn’t stumble into that double murder by accident.

My sister knew the female victim, the hooker as that one guard called her. My sister and her met at a nail salon two weeks before she disappeared. Then, six months later, this other girl ends up murdered. Even though the trail between them ran cold after their initial meeting, I knew this was all connected somehow. I just couldn’t figure out how Eric’s fight club was connected.

Hence why I’d been contemplating going tonight.

I absolutely hated violence, couldn’t stomach it due to my past, so the thought of going to the fight club again to watch him fight brought a very sour taste to my mouth. But the prospect of being able to snoop in Eric’s office for more answers was too loud to ignore.

The part that confused me the most about this entire thing? He told me he didn’t want to see my face inside of his club again so why did he send me another invite?

While I didn’t have proof, along with everything else I’d been looking into, it was evident that Eric had been watching me today due to knowing what color dress I wore.

To which I reiterated to myself the earlier thought. Why the hell did he want to see me after telling me to stay away?

Blowing out a breath, I glanced in the mirror next to the familiar door I’d been standing in front of; my familiar front door. I was dressed in a pair of leggings and a green hoodie, for no other reason than comfort. As soon as I slipped on my shoes, I paused when I reached for my door, doubt encasing me. The last time I went to this fight club I walked in on a murder, nearly dying in the process. But there was a reason why Eric invited me and I would have been stupid not to go, right?

It had nothing to do with seeing those bright eyes again. Or drink in the sight of those tattoos that littered his sweaty skin. Absolutely not. It was because he could have answers to the questions I had. That’s all.

Right.

Tossing my bag over my shoulder, I opened the door to my apartment ready to step out but halted when a pair of dark eyes pinned me in place.

“Caught you,” the man smirked before everything went dark.

ERIC

Black.

Inky black took over my vision, creeping from the inside out as my fist lay into the man's face below me, cheers from the audience edging me closer. My body and mind weren’t communicating together, my fists doing what they wanted as I continued to lay my fist into this man who long ago gave up the fight. I already won, the ref determining me the winner minutes ago, but that didn’t stop me. From the moment I entered the cage, I’d been on a high I couldn’t explain to anyone. No one would understand the rage that filled my veins at knowing she didn’t show up tonight.

Before my fight, I asked my guards posted up outside the back alley door if Y/N had shown up to which they simply shook their heads. I even double checked my systems to see if her invite was scanned in case the guards didn’t recognize her. She hadn’t shown.

Of course she wouldn’t show. I meant nothing to her. My fight club meant nothing to her. She wasn’t meant for something like this, like me. I let this woman crawl her way into my routine, my life, and for what? Because I liked the way her legs looked in a dress or how the fear filled her eyes the first time she was in my club. Y/N didn’t belong here and I was an idiot for sending her that invite. I told myself over and over on my way to the ring that I simply invited her so I could remind her to stop looking for her sister, not because I wanted to see her upclose, growing tired from watching Y/N from afar.

“ERIC!”

A noise which sounded like someone banging on the cage broke through the inkey haze but that did nothing to stop me from my onslaught on my opponent.

“CROW!”

More banging. “You have a phone call! It’s important!”

My head snapped over to the voice, seeing Greg urging me through the open door, the sounds of the cheering crowd white noise. I let out a broken breath, wiping the blood that gathered on my hands over my chest and pushed away from the broken man beneath me. Rising to my full height, I let the rowdy crowd boost my ego as I took the steps down out of the cage and followed Greg towards my office. I quickly flicked my gaze through the crowd hoping maybe that Y/N showed up but her pretty eyes never met mine.

Swallowing the disappointment in my throat, I slammed the door shut to my office as Greg handed me my phone.

“Who is it?” I questioned.

“Unknown. They won’t tell me who they are or what they want, they demand to speak to The Crow.”

I raised my brow while glancing down to the call that was on hold. “You know I don’t take random phone calls like this. You interrupted my fight for this?”

Greg snickered. “That find ended long ago, we both know that. But I wouldn’t interpret you unless it was important, you know that.”

When I urged him with a nod, he hesitated while running a hand over his face. “Whoever is on the other end of the call said you would be interested in this call because they said one name.”

“Which was?” I sighed, growing aggravated.

“Y/N.”

My jaw clenched when the familiar blank ink filled my blood stream again, seeping into the depths of my vision with the mention of Y/N.

“Get Jay, now! I don’t care how you do it or whatever you have to pay, do it!”

I ordered while pointing a finger at Greg, whose eyes widened before he scurried out of the office, the noise from the crowd breaking into the room for a few seconds before the door closed.

While Greg was my go to guy, one of my best guards, Jay was my second in command. He was the only one I could trust with situations like this. The only problem? Jay had been picked up by the police three nights ago on a drunken disorderly charge and had been held on no bail since it was against a cop. On top of all of my stalking on Y/N, I’d been dealing with how to get him out of jail.

Letting out a few steadying breaths, I finally took the phone call off of hold to be met with deep and unsteady breathing.

“Where is she?” My voice an eerily calm. Something I did not feel inside of my body.

“Who is she to you?” The voice, definitely Russian, asked.

Sitting behind my desk, I eased into the old leather seat with a quiet groan. “Why does it matter? Tell me where she is.”

“You know,” there was some rustling on his end. “I’ve spent weeks wondering why this woman showed up in an underground fight club and stumbled upon my boss’ death.”

Alexi Sokolov. This was one of his men.

“How did you find her?” I asked.

He hummed. “Pretty easy actually. She asked around about a missing family member and demanded to know if the Russians had anything to do with it.”

I bit my tongue trying to keep my curses at bay and ran a hand over my mouth instead.

“Did you have anything to do with it?” I questioned.

Silence was all I heard for a few beats before the man spoke again. “She’s a pretty one. Put up a great fight while we tried to get answers. So color me surprised when we tossed her place to find your card in the drawer of her desk.”

“I’m going to-,” I clenched the phone tight in my hand.

“Check your phone.”

I blinked at the man's words, taken aback slightly, before pulling away my phone to see a new message pop up with a picture. Y/N was tied to a chair, dried blood stuck to her forehead but fresh blood pooled at a wound on her cheek. Her eyes were filled with fear and not the kind that turned me on.

It was the kind that scared me.

I wasn’t completely sure on how she managed to sink her imaginative claws into me so deeply. I didn’t give a fuck about the girls I fucked let alone dated and that was less than two. But seeing Y/N fearing she was about to die, it made that inky black intensify in my vision.

“So again, I ask. What is she to you?” The man’s voice spoke when I brought my phone back to my ear.

The office door clicked open and in walked Greg followed by Jay who wore a smug smile on his face. I didn’t have time to note how quickly he’d been sprung from jail or how Greg made it happen because I held up a finger and set the call on speaker.

“It’s none of your business,” I said.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Draven. This bitch was in the room where my boss was killed. She knows who did it and unless she tells me who it was in the next two minutes, you can find her body at the bottom of the river.”

Muffled screams followed my cries echoed loudly through my phone.

“That bitch you’re talking about is my wife!” I seethed without thinking.

Greg and Jay stilled while sharing a look but I didn’t bother trying to explain myself, too busy focusing on the picture still on my screen.

“Well, this is a turn of events,” the man chuckled darkly. “Half a mil. Parking garage in Greektown. Two hours. If you even think about doing something funny, your wife dies.”

Before I could respond, the line went dead and I threw my phone across the room, shattering it against the wall. A slew of curses roared from my lips as I pushed myself away from the desk and stormed over towards the closet.

“Eric,” Greg said with a hesitant voice. “When the fuck did you get married?”

Quickly tossing on a shirt and throwing a pair of sweats over my shorts, I let out a noise.

“I didn’t.”

Jay still wore that smug smile, his blue eyes shimmering with deviance. “I was in jail for less than fifty hours and you went and got married?”

A muscle in my jaw ticked as I slipped on my boots. “I didn’t. Look, the only way to save Y/N is to protect her the only way I know how. No one will touch her now knowing she’s protected by The Crow.”

“This guy is requesting half a mil. Is this broad worth all that money?” Greg asked.

In a flash, I had him pressed up against the wall with a thick forearm against his throat, my eyes blazing with that inky blackness. The only thing that seemed to break through it was the picture of Y/N tied up.

“That is the second time you called her that. If I hear you utter that word again, I’ll make sure no one will be able to find you,” I said.

Greg, unable to breath due to the force against his throat, only nodded so with a grunt, I let his body fall to the floor and turned towards Jay.

“Alexi’s men have her at her apartment.”

Jay raised a brow. “How do you know?”

“The picture was taken in her living room,” I answered while grabbing the keys to my bike.

“Stalking her, huh?” Jay teased.

I sliced my eyes into him. “I can get to her place in less than ten minutes on my bike. In the meantime, I need you to do something for me.”

While I went over the plan with Jay, Greg slowly rose from the floor and coughed a few times. “How do you know she’s still alive? That picture could be old.”

My heart thundered in my chest at the idea that Y/N could be dead but I refused to believe it. These were Alexi’s men, they not only wanted revenge but they wanted the money more. They wouldn’t risk killing her before getting the hand off.

But it wouldn’t come to that.

READER

Exhaustion clung deep into my bones, and consciousness slowly faded in and out. But the pain was worse. My entire body screamed with the fresh cuts and bruises, the ropes digging into my ribs and arms, keeping me tied to the chair. I could barely see, blood pooling into my eyes from the wound on my forehead and the gag in my mouth was soaked with my saliva.

All I wanted to do was sleep, the fight inside of me long gone. I wanted to give in, let the darkness that had been trying to take me under finally succeed. I’d been fighting for the last two hours, I couldn’t do it anymore.

The two men were off in my bedroom, conversing to themselves about something, I didn’t know what. I’d been in and out of sleep for the last hour, ever since they hung up the phone on whoever they called. I could barely hear the conversation because my ears had been ringing due to the pain in my head. I only could scream when one of them wrenched my hair back to contort my neck in a way that ached and brought tears to my eyes.

Whoever these two men were ransacked my apartment while they rambled on about this other guy, Alexi. Something about revenge and soon, we would all pay. When I told him I didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about, the taller of the two men hit me upside the head to knock me out. I awoke tied to the chair where they took turns hitting me until I gave up who killed this Alexi dude. I feared they would do something worse than beat me so in order to keep myself safe, I bit back on the sass and tried to make them believe I had no idea what they were talking about.

“Do we believe him? I mean why would she be staying here and not with him?” The shorter one asked the taller one.

Even through the white noise haze that filled my brain, I could tell they had some kind of thick accent.

“I knew we shouldn’t have come here,” the taller man began to pace my bedroom. “I told you this was a bad idea! We’re drug runners, Jeremy! We shouldn’t be doing this. We don’t kidnap and torture people. And now The Crow is after us!”

I lifted my heavy head at those words. The Crow? As in Eric?

“Which means he’s good for the money,” the shorter man, Jeremy, snickered while smacking his partner's chest. “I’ll call you when I have the cash so you can put a bullet in her brain.”

That seemed to breathe life into me because as soon as the taller man began stalking towards me, I fought against my binds. The urge to fight once more filled my veins and just as the man reached me, my front door busted open. It happened all at once, Eric stepping through the threshold with a gun aimed at the taller one, dropping him with a bullet to his head. Jeremy slipped behind me and forced the muzzle of his gun to the side of my head.

“Drop it! Or I’ll put a bullet in your wife’s head!”

Wife?

What the fuck?

Eric continued to hold his gun directly at Jeremy’s head while those bright eyes lingered on my injuries. My green hoodie had been cut away from me so the bruises on my arms were prominent under the light of my apartment. I saw a thick vein twitch in his neck as Eric swallowed thickly.

“I’m only going to say this once. Let her go,” Eric said.

Jeremy pressed the gun deeper into the side of my head causing me to cry out in the bind in my mouth. My face was a mess of tears and snot.

“Your wife knows what happens to Alexi so I’m not-.”

Jeremy’s body dropped to the floor beside me, his blood spraying all over my face, and I cried out some more into the bind in my mouth as fresh tears spilled from my eyes. I thrashed against the ropes around me, the chair nearly falling over until Eric was there, kneeling in front of me to pull the bind from my mouth.

“Hey, hey,” his soft voice cooed while he cupped my cheeks. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

“I didn’t-I don’t know.” I shook my head rapidly, the realization that they were dead and this was finally over suddenly sank in.

“You killed them,” I whispered while Eric cut away the rope that tied me to the chair.

He gently helped me up, slowly when I hissed out in pain and kept my gaze on him.

“They most likely were going to do the same to you, Y/N,” he stated.

My body felt weak, unable to stand, so Eric helped me through the mess of my apartment towards the kitchen when he had me rest against the counter.

“Tell me what happened.”

With a wheezing breath, I held my arm against my ribs where they had kicked me a few times, and I replayed the events of what happened from the moment I opened my front door to the second he stepped through.

“I don’t know who they called though,” I licked my dry lips. “Or how you knew they were here.”

“They called me. Demanded I pay them half a mil in order to get you back,” Eric said.

I weakly narrowed my eyes at him. “Why would they call you?”

He hesitated for a few beats and it was then that I noticed he had dried blood on his hands and I remembered he had a fight earlier. One that I was personally invited to by him.

“Did you win?” I asked, nearly blurted out.

The corner of Eric’s lips lifted in a smile that made something low in my gut burn.

“One thing about me, little crow, I always win,” he winked.

I shifted on my feet, hissing at the pain that shot through my body, but it paled in comparison to the way it felt when I heard Eric call me crow.

“Why did they call you?” I asked again.

With a sigh, he rested his hand on his hips. “They found my card on your desk. They worked for Alexi and wanted answers for his murder.”

My eyes widened when I realized why that name sounded so familiar. He was the man in the room that night, the head of the Russian mob. A sob escaped through my lips and my body began to shake. All this time, I thought it had something to do with my digging into my missing sister but it was in fact because of the murder I had stumbled into.

“Hey,” Eric lifted my chin with a finger, cringing at the wounds on my face. “It’s alright.”

“No,” I shook my head in his grasp. “It’s not. These guys found me, they knew where I live. What’s stopping other members of Alexi’s group finding me?”

His gaze hardened. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

“How?!” I cried, the tears mixing with the wound on my cheek which caused it to smear my face in blood. “Why did they call you? Why did they want you to pay half a million dollars for me? I’m nobody!”

Eric cursed before taking off his shirt to press it against the side of my face to stop the bleeding. I couldn’t even find the urge to gaze at the tattoos on his chest like the last time I saw him shirtless.

“The reason why they let you live as long as they did was because they thought you were my wife,” he informed while gazing down at the two dead bodies that continued to take up space in my apartment.

“I’m sorry, what?” I stood up straighter, the room nearly tilting on its axis. “What gives you the right to claim we are married when we don’t even know each other!”

“It’s the only way I could make sure you were safe until I showed up,” he snapped his head back towards me. “They would have killed you if I didn’t!”

“So you say we are married?!” I screamed.

“To save your life, fuck yes!” His voice matched mine, anger evident on his face.

“Why? You don’t even know me. You told me to stay away yet you invited me to your fight club tonight. Why?!”

He shrugged. “I wanted to see your face.”

I stared at him with a blank expression, how nonchalant he quickly became, and scoffed. “Get out. If I never would have met you, none of this would have happened! You don’t know the hell I went through the last few hours, I thought they were going to-.”

The words died off on my tongue, unable to finish my sentence because the tears began to burn in my eyes. It was true what I said before. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t gone to Eric’s fight club that first night and I was stupid enough to almost go again tonight.

Eric’s eyes flashed with an unknown emotion as he pointed back to the bodies. “And how were you expecting to deal with this, hm?”

Dropping his shirt to the counter, I let out an aggravated groan. “I’ll call the police. Say they broke in and attacked me, which is the truth, and I shot them in self defence.”

Eric let out a deep laugh, one that shook me deep to my bones. “The cops? They’ll dig into you and find out you’re searching into your missing sister. Illegally may I add.”

My jaw dropped slightly. “I’m not-.”

Quickly he had me pressed against the edge of my counter by his hips and I bit the inside of my cheek when I felt the hardness of his thigh between my legs.

“Do not even think to lie to me, little crow. I know you’re still looking into your missing sister even after I told you to stop.”

I glared up at him with defiance flaring in my eyes. “I don’t listen to you. You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do. And you certainly cannot tell people we are married. That’s so fucked up!”

“I’m doing this for you,” Eric sighed. “You don’t realize the shit you stepped in. Alexi’s men? They’re child’s play compared to Roeg’s men. They’re the ones who chased you that night and it’s only a matter of time before they find you. And the lie of you being my wife won’t keep you alive.”

“What does that mean?” My voice wavered.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his warm breath fanning over my own.

“We need to make it official. The only way to keep you safe is for us to get married and you come live with me. There’s an unspoken rule that no one messes with whoever is connected with The Crow. I can keep an eye on you until everything blows over. Keep you safe.”

I ignored the way my body ignites as I did my best to gather my next words carefully.

“Why can’t we keep up the lie?”

“Roeg’s men are too smart. They’ll look into it and find out it’s not real. I promise you, as soon as this blows over, we can divorce and you can go back to your life.”

I snorted. “You would like that, huh? Having a wife against your will to heighten whatever your agenda is against Roeg? You haven’t even told me who this guy is.”

Eric shook his head, the earring on his left ear dangling. “This isn't about me, little crow. I’m doing this for you.”

“Why me?” I asked, just above a whisper.

His finger grazed over the cut on my cheek. “I have no fucking idea.”

I found myself leaning into his touch. “I’m not important, Eric.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he mused while pressing his thigh deeper against my pussy, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. “You’re more important than you think.”

“If I agree, what do I get out of it?” I forced myself to ask after pulling away from him, knowing that if I didn’t I would do something I regret.

“Besides not dying?” He teased with a sly smirk.

“I’m serious, Eric. I’m about to uproot my entire life to be married to a total stranger who runs an illegal fight club because people want to kill me.”

When I finally said it outloud, it sounded even more ludicrous.

Eric ran a hand through his hair before locking his eyes with me. “Once we are married, I’ll help you find your sister.”

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overtaken-stream · 10 months ago

Note

(┬┬﹏┬┬) found the sakuragi headcanon really cute.. Would you mind making a romantic headcanon for rukawa? I find the idea of tutoring him hilarious since he'd just fall dead asleep, so feel free to expand on that idea if you'd want. Thank you for taking the time to read my request!

Rukawa Kaede x Gn!Reader Headcanons

The face in the gif is all I can see him having while in a relationship and committing romantic acts.

I'm going to start with the most obvious fact: Rukawa isn't a big fan of PDA, but he doesn't hate it either. He won't be the one to initiate affection in public. However, he also isn't the type to slap away your hand when you're trying to hold onto his. If anything, I see Rukawa stuffing both yours and his hand in his pockets.

Rukawa is quiet by nature. He is satisfied with sitting and listening to you talk about your day, if-you-won't-ask-he-won't-share type of guy. But if you're not much of a talker, he is content with the silence and mutual understanding shared in this relationship.

For some reason... I see Rukawa as a mouth person, not in a sexual way, he just really adores any type of lip shape you might possess. When you both get comfortable with intimacy, I don't think Rukawa will miss a chance to kiss you and feel your mouth shape rest on his. Oral fetish just gets his love-starved brain and the closeness the action brings is pleasant for Rukawa.

I see him as a quiet tease, he needs no words to point out how much taller he is, elbow on your head and all. Oh, you don't like cats? He casually lets the one he is holding paw at your arm. Oh, you like cats? His eyes give you a side eye as two cats get closer to him and leave you with your hands outstretched.

Concerning basketball tho.... I have to be honest. Rukawa has no reaction to you showing up to his matches, I can only see him giving you one glance before the play, so you better time it right to show him your support (maybe with a thumbs up and a smile?) even if he won't meet your gaze until after the match. Rukawa might not show it, but he definitely appreciates the subtle gesture.

I can see bike rides as his second favorite dates, so try to keep up with him because he won't wait for you to catch up to him lol. As a compromise, he'll buy you ice cream.

His first favorite dates is cat cafes. Pretty self-explanatory.

He values his privacy so asking for relationship advice from ANYONE, let alone the Shohoku club, is out of the question.

The more time you spend with him the more you understand his thought processes and how it revolves around his naps, so yeah, tutoring will be adjusted to fit his style since Rukawa can't solve one equation without his head lying sideways on his arm and not to mention him taking a ten-minute nap before he moves on to do another subject. Between him and you, you have more chance to fall asleep for hours, since Rukawa always ends up waking up after ten minutes.

He is also a light sleeper and a clingy one too, good luck trying to get him off of you. His stubbornness shows up at the worst times.

#rukawa kaede #slam dunk manga #slam dunk x reader #slam dunk #slam dunk rukawa kaede #rukawa x reader #rukawa kaede x reader #anime #.my headcanon.

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rotzaprachim · 4 months ago

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there’s also just a big problem with differences in culture, aesthetics, and lifestyle that are strongly tied to demographics, geography, and ethnicity- and therefor political orientation- instead being read as indicators of class, with things more common among the urban populations, people of color, young women, and Jews - and therefor liberals - being taken as snobby, elitest and upper class while things more common or associated with rural and white people are real, authentic, middle class, and true. In both cases they’re just ways to spend money that often aren’t inherently progressive OR conservative, because you’ll find urban conservatives and rural liberals, but they are also therefor not sole markers of class, which is why I need people to get a hell of a lot smarter with their class consciousness - I’m sick of liberals doing some woe is me business and leftists repeating conservative logic.

there’s nothing inherently more expensive about having higher value hiking gear and fleeces than hunting gear - but only the first is suss. Hiking is not an inherently more upper class sport than hunting. Yeah you don’t get food from it, but it’s also got a much lower start up cost, and it’s a way for people from densely packed urban areas to become nature. People in cities like coffee shops and cafes because they’re places to meet with friends when your apartment is too small to fit anyone - that isn’t an inherently more resource intensive thing to do than have a house in the suburbs or rural areas big enough for everyone to come over! Ditto support for museums and cultural attractions - these are often free or cut price and safe places to take children or spend time on the city. Ditto things for urban areas, especially working class urban life, like bike paths, bike racks, and bike recharging areas. A top quality urban electric bike is often less expensive to buy and then maintain than a cheap car, esp if you’re a single person and single commuter, as many urban people are. A subscription to a local theatre company or indie movie theatre may well cost less than cable and have something every week. Tofu and hummus may cost less than the most classic meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Good walking shoes and fancy headphones may be essential gear for people who walk miles and take noisy public transport. Overall, a lot of the famous liberal excesses of elitest yuppies and urbanites are often fully logical indulgences when taken in combination with living in much less resources intensive housing, in more tightly packed areas, and with greater walking and public transport.

my point isn’t that any of these things are good or bad ways to spend money. It’s the reverse. (A lot of working class and poor urban dwellers are left out of the above, but a lot of working class and poor rural dwellers are left out of the aestheticisrd Middle America working man miasma of single family homes, trucks, and thanksgiving dinner. In both cases this is about the middle class norms.) Nor is it that there are inherently right wing or left wing ways to spend money. My point instead is that America fundamentally has a problem with thinking that the aesthetics of the more rural areas are “good” and understandable whereas the aesthetics and lifestyles of more urbanized areas are elitest and suspicious for things that are fundamentally just different ways to allocate and spend money in ways that are perfectly logical relative to location. Everyone needs to get a lot sharper if they really want to work out what the problems are.

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castdust · 2 months ago

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⤷ wish that i could !

yn, a part-time barista, and daniela, a busy university student, have never crossed paths despite frequenting the same cafe. their schedules have always kept them apart--until finals season at ADMU forces daniela to adjust her routine. as late-night study sessions and caffeine cravings bring her to yn's shift.

⤷ playing disturbia by rihanna

07. ready, get set, go! + written (1057 words)

daniela stared at her notebook, the words swimming before her eyes. the diagrams, formulas, and highlighted paragraphs were supposed to help her ace her upcoming exam, but all she could think about was the tweet she’d seen minutes ago. her phone, face up on her desk, displayed the tweet from race radar: “live bike racing” It had been retweeted by one of her mutuals. daniela had stopped scrolling the moment she read it, her heart skipping a beat.

yn. the girl she’d been texting for 3 days now. the girl whose voice she’d never heard. the girl she danced with according to yoonchae. the girl that took her home safely. daniela wants to see who this yn is since manon and lara kept blabbering about her, so why not get a glimpse of that face. abandoning her reviewers, daniela shoved her books aside and grabbed her jacket and car keys. she knew exactly where the race would be—the abandoned park, where the ferris wheel lights cast long shadows. she tucked her phone into her pocket and headed out.

the sound of revving engines hit daniela the moment she turned onto the main road by the park. the area was alive with activity. bikes lined the edges of the street, their chrome gleaming under the faint moonlight. people milled about, some shouting bets, others clustered in groups, laughing and talking loudly. the energy was electric.

daniela’s eyes darted around, scanning faces. she didn’t know what yn looked like. they’d never exchanged photos, and daniela hadn’t dared to ask. daniela felt a pang of nervousness. what if she missed her? what if yn saw her and decided she wasn’t worth the trouble?

but she had come this far. she couldn’t turn back now.

yn adjusted her helmet, the snug fit comforting against her head. her bike roared beneath her, vibrating with barely-contained power. she glanced at her friends, who were lounging near the start line.

“you sure about this one, yn?” yunjin asked, arms crossed as she leaned against a parked car.

yn smirked. “when am I not sure?”

“alright, but I heard yeonjun’s been tuning his bike all week. he’s gunning for you this time,” jake added, twirling a set of keys around his finger.

“yeonjun can try,” yn said, her voice calm but laced with confidence. “he’ll still eat my dust.”

jungwon laughed, shaking his head. “cocky as ever. just don’t crash. you know we’re not carrying you home if you wreck.”

“you’d miss me too much if I did,” yn shot back, grinning.

minji snorted. “just focus, yn. everyone’s watching tonight.”

everyone. the word lingered in yn’s mind. she has a hunch that daniela might show up. she didn’t know why she felt so certain. and if she was here, yn wouldn’t know—not with the crowd this big.

she shook the thought away.

first, she had a race to win.

daniela pushed through the crowd, her heart pounding. she caught sight of the racers lining up, their bikes sleek and dangerous. the engines roared louder, signaling that the race was about to begin. she craned her neck, trying to get a better view, but there were too many people.

“ready!” a voice called out, amplified by a megaphone. the crowd surged forward slightly, the excitement palpable.

“get set!” the bikes revved, crowds shouting.

“go!” daniela’s breath hitched as the flag dropped. the bikes shot forward, a blur of color and sound. the crowd erupted into cheers and shouts, the collective energy almost overwhelming.

she couldn’t tell which racer was yn. her eyes darted between the bikes, each one leaning into sharp turns, tires skidding dangerously close to the pavement. the race was brutal, with competitors jostling for position, but one bike stood out—a black and silver one, sleek and fast, cutting through the competition like a knife. whoever was riding it was incredible, taking risks that made daniela’s stomach twist but never losing control.

yn’s focus was absolute. the world narrowed down to the road ahead, the wind in her face, and the sound of her bike’s engine. she could feel the other racers on her heels, but she didn’t care. she leaned into a sharp turn, her knee almost grazing the ground. the crowd blurred past her, their cheers distant and muffled. all that mattered was the finish line.

she saw yeonjun in her peripheral vision, trying to overtake her on the inside. yn smirked and gunned the throttle, her bike surging forward. the finish line was just ahead, and she wasn’t about to let anyone steal her victory.

with a final burst of speed, yn crossed the line, the black and white flag waving in her peripheral vision. the crowd erupted into applause and cheers as she slowed her bike, pulling off to the side.

daniela watched as the race ended, her heart still racing from the intensity of it all. the black and silver bike had won, but she couldn’t see who the rider was. people swarmed around the racers, congratulating them and snapping photos. daniela hesitated. should she try to get closer?

before she could decide, the crowd shifted, and she lost sight of the black and silver bike. frustrated and overwhelmed, she turned and began weaving her way back through the throng of people. she didn’t want to stay too long; the longer she lingered, the more she felt like she didn’t belong.

yn pulled off her helmet, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. her friends were already making their way toward her, grins plastered on their faces.

“you’re insane,” jake said, slapping her on the back. “i thought yeonjun had you for a second.”

“not a chance,” yn replied, smirking. but her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face. she didn’t see her.

“looking for someone?” hanni asked, raising an eyebrow.

yn shook her head. “nah. just thought i saw… never mind.”

daniela slipped away from the park, her thoughts swirling. she hadn’t seen yn, but she had felt her presence in the roar of the engines, the thrill of the race. she clutched her phone tightly, wondering if she should text her. but what would she say? that she had been there, somewhere in the crowd, cheering her on without even knowing it?

instead, she drove back to her dorm and called it a day.

.° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ masterlist next

a/n: so ateneo to boomland is 21km (49mins). damn dani, just to see yn race ?!

taglist: @gtfoiydlyj @saysirhc @artrizzler19 @jellaaa @taikabui @spongebobtentacles @hwonnrinji @sunshinez4

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tsxkkis · 2 years ago

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# bokuto koutarou - not an idiot

a/n = this is so stupid but it fits bokuto sm i think (i just feel bokuto is stupid with geography for some reason ALSO he would call his s/o pookie unironically) the dumbest one i wrote yet but it was fun to write so who cares fr

summary = bokuto's teammates finally get a chance to meet his girlfriend.

warnings = nothing really

bokuto koutarou could never shut up about you.

it came to a point where even his teammates knew everything about you; your favorite installment of the 'saw' franchise, your favorite order at that cool cafe around the corner, your favorite spots to go to when you need to clear your mind, your favorite desserts and snacks, even your favorite breed of cats. but aside from all that, they were happy their captain finally found someone for himself. somehow it seemed like he was even more energetic and passionate about everything now that he met you, and it was good not only for their volleyball games but also for minimizing the risk of him going into his emo mode.

and yet they never once got a chance to meet you.

it was quite odd for the team; bokuto would talk about you non-stop but never invited you to come watch him practice or play a game? from what they knew, you had been dating him for over three months now, so it seemed strange that the gray haired boy didn't even try to drag you to meet his friends; he wasn't one to be secretive about being in a relationship, so more than anything, it was a bit peculiar.

most of the time, they didn't pay much attention to that, though, thinking that you're probably just shy. so much so, that they didn't seem to notice a curious eye peeking through the slightly opened doors to the gym, curiously scanning the situation inside.

you had no intention of going there that day, but the circumstances made it so that you didn't really have a choice, at least that's what you could get from bokuto's message of 'come here baby it's really incredibly extra urgent' with a few emojis following it. and now that you were finally there, you contemplated whether or not you should enter the gym, the thoughts of whether or not you should interrupt their practice roaming your head.

until you heard bokuto.

"MY LOVE IS FINALLY HERE!"

his voice was high pitched, echoing through the entire gym as he suddenly dropped the ball, running towards the door to open it wider, hence getting the attention of everyone inside. he didn't spare even a second as his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face lighting up as he hid it in the crook of your neck. you could only smile gently, still getting used to how affectionate your boyfriend was as you hugged him back, thumb caressing his arm.

he loosened the hug as you looked up at him, a shy smile on your face as you tilted your head to the side.

"so, koutarou, what was that extra urgent emergency about?" his smile faded a little, its place taken by an awkward expression, the tips of his ears bright red. you couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, the boy avoiding your gaze at all costs.

"i just wanted to see you." he muttered quietly, eyes roaming around the gym, looking everywhere but you. your eyes widened at his statement, your smile disappearing just to be replaced by a more serious expression, brows furrowed as you smacked him in the shoulder. "ow! that hurt, you know."

"i drove my bike for twenty minutes as fast as i could because i thought something happened to you!" suddenly, you seemed to forget all the people around you, your focus solely on bokuto, standing in front of you with the cutest pout on his face (you were close to giving in to him when looking at it, but you decided today's not the day). "ahh, sometimes i forget i'm dating an idiot."

"i'm not an idiot!" the boy exclaimed loudly, hearing his teammates giggle slightly at his words. you looked at him, a grin appearing on your face as you tried your best not to let out a laugh too.

"tell me where surinam is located, then." he gave you a puzzled look, his face resembling that of a sad puppy.

"you're making words up right now."

"am not."

"yes, you are."

his teammates watched the scene in front of them with amusement in their eyes, enjoying the chaos between you two. even the managers seemed to find it entertaining as they stopped the gossip session they had planned for today's practice only to giggle at bokuto and you.

"you want to make me look stupid in front of my teammates." bokuto pouted, his eyes looking resembling those of a cartoon lamb. a chuckle left your mouth, your hand coming up to ruffle his hair as he seemed to melt into your touch.

"you probably already did that yourself many times." you added, smiling gently at him. "i still love you, though."

he seemed to completely ignore your teasing comments at this moment, coming back to his usual self as a big, proud smile appeared on his face, his face leaning in to give you a quick smooch on the cheek.

"obviously, i'm the best after all." he said, straightening up his stance as he looked at you. "i love you too, by the way."

he suddenly turned around, his hand resting on your waist as he faced his teammates, looking as if he was going to start showing you off in a second, a deep breath escaping his lips.

"guys, meet my pookie, the love of my life-"

you could only hide your face in one of your palms as you heard his words, the entire fukurodani volleyball team bursting into tears of laughter.

"you did not just use pookie seriously, right?" you mumbled, head turning towards his as you tried not to crack up too, the sight of bokuto's clueless face in front of you.

"is there something wrong with calling you my pookie?" he asked, and this time you joined on the laughing too, your voice mixing in with the others, face hurting from smiling so much.

"god, i'm definitely dating an idiot."

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

#tsxkkis #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #fukurodani x reader #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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delulu-sushi · 1 year ago

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First Valentines Mikey x Y/N

Canon to the series!

~~~~~~~~~Enjoy!~~~~~~~~~~~

Feburary 13, 2006. The Sano Residence

"MIKEY!" Emma throws open the door, awaking the slumbering boy, shaking her head as she walks in his room and tugs the blanket away from him. "You need to get up right now" She shouts at him with a stern voice. "RAAAA" Mikey starts throwing a fit causing Emma to roll her eyes at his childish behavior. "If Y/N-chan saw you like this-" "SHE WOULD LET ME SLEEP" Mikey doesn't let her finish her sentence as he continues to pout, trying to get his blanket from his sister while refusing to get off the bed. "You know what tomorrow is?" Emma asks Mikey, hoping he'll remember but not giving in too much. "Well it's not Y/N's birthday so not important (A/N: sry if your bday is on Valentines Day)" He says before falling back on his bed.

"Yeah… but it is Valentines Day!" Emma says casually hoping Mikey will get the hint and take her on a double date with Draken.

Never.

Never has Emma seen her brother get out of bed so fast.

"WELL WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR EMMA?" He screams while running to the bathroom.

"Heh. Y/N is one lucky girl" Emma smiles to herself seeing her brother gawk in love over her bestfriend

February 13, 2006. The L/N Residence

"HARUUU" You run down the stairs to your brother cooking Mackarel in the kitchen (A/N: Who got the reference??? ur my new bestie) pausing at the smell, "Seriously?"

Your brother looks at you with a face that reads "Don't even." making you roll your eyes and break in a smile.

"Anywaysss, which color do you think Mikey will like?!" You hold up a small, flowery, spring purple dress in your right arm and a pink one in your left.

Your brother looks at the two options and immediately chooses the hazy lilac that makes your skin shine. "He'll love it" your brother comments, secretly smiling to himself happy to know that his little angel has the most loving boyfriend in the world

You smile at the suggestion and fall back on the couch, thinking of what your boyfriend could have gotten you. Almost telepathically, your brother answers, "HMM, knowing Mikey, probably a sweet and a plushie."

"Awwww so sweet" you murmur to yourself, deep into your daydreaming thoughts. It's going to be your first Valentines Day, and you had the perfect gift for him.

February 14, 2006

You hear Mikey's engine revv outside your house, and you hurry downstairs with a bag in your hand for Mikey. You open the door. He's leaning against the bike, the wind flowing through his golden hair and the sun shining on his skin. He's wearing a white top that bears his biceps and black pants. He looks at you. Breathtaking You come out of the door wearing the purple dress he had always wanted to see you in. You looked beautiful. A necklace surrounding the neck he adorned and loved, and a bracelet embracing your wrist that he wanted to hold all day. Beautiful "Happy Valentine's Day Kanji-Manji!" Mikey's Y/N says with a sweet smile on her face

Mikey swoops her in his arms, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck, "Happy Valentine's Day my love" he says in a whisper. The words barely come out of his mouth, feeling his hot breath against your neck and his arms tighten around your body.

He wants to stay there, forever

He hesitates, then loosens your grip, and places you on his motorcycle, driving you off into the day.

"Sooo, what d'ya wanna do today?" Mikey asks. You smile, leaning deeper into his back on the motorcycle. Casual Mikey, he'll always have a plan but makes time for your choices too.

You feed into his desires, "Mmm, a cafe!", Mikey changes his direction, knowing just the place to take you.

He covers your eyes as you reach the destination. "Ok, we're here" he whispers in your ear before placing a soft kiss on your cheek, taking his hands off to reveal the scenary. It was a bright place, filled with cherry blossom trees, the petals flying in the air covering the streets.

"Lover's Road" - they called it

Couples sitting together everywhere, in love. Two young boys, one with blond hair like your Mikey and his lover with an interesting side partition on his black hair, sitting together on a bench looking at each other deeply.

Mikey takes your hand and pulls you to a cake shop, his adorable face exploding with cuteness as he gawks at the many choices. "AHHHH, which cake should we get??? So many flavors!!"

He never let go of your hand

Eventually, he picked out a mini mousse cake (two obviously, man has a big appetite) and a milkshake.

"AHHHH~" You prompt Mikey to open his mouth as you take give him the courtesy of taking the first bite. "You're so cute", you whisper under your breath, Mikey slightly hearing it

A smug smile forms on his face as he moves closer to you, "Hmm N/N, I didn't catch that" he looks at you with false innocent eyes, "Say it again?" he prompts, wanting to hear you say it louder, hearing the sweet songbirds of your voice. You cover your face when it feels red like a tomato.

A small kiss lands on the top of your head, making you remove you hands from your face, seeing Mikey happily watch you while he chomps down his cake, "I'm going to feed you yours' don't worry dorayaki!" He says with his cute, chirpy voice.

You can't help but break in a smile and give him a tight hug. Mikey moves his strong hands across your back, pulling you in closer and taking in the scent of your hair, perfume, your scent. You.

A sharp snort comes from behind as Mikey takes away his arms and looks away embarrassed, a flush of red coming over his face as he tries to act cool

"I told you he was a lovebird" Draken's husky voice taunts Mikey as he appears with Emma, and you start glaring at Mikey before he says anything awkward (about Draken being with Emma obv).

Buuut it's too late

"And what about you Ken-chin?" Mikey forms a smug, proud smile on his face, and you look at Emma with a small smile knowingly, as the two of you look at Draken who's flustered and about to pick a fight.

"SHUT UP MIKEY. Come on Emma, we're done with these two" Draken stomps away, holding Emma's hand, as you and Mikey make love fingers around them, taunting them until they can't hear you

It's moments like this when you look at Mikey and see him as a lover and a best friend. You're his everything. He made you a Sano before he knew your name.

"I wanna kiss you right now" The sight of you giggling with joy on your face pushes the words out of Mikey's mouth, unconsciously. But he doesn't regret it. He stares at you, a stare that every person dreams of being looked at. A stare that only a lover can do.

Your face blushes with red, pink, and every shade you can think of. Eight months he has been waiting, no, years to kiss you.

He pulls your face in close and plants a kiss on your cheek, knowing that the afternoon in front of a whole crowd is not where you want your first kiss to be.

He wants it intimate. Just you. Just him. No other person watching but the heaven and Earth to witness the moment of teenage marriage.

As the day passes on, Mikey makes most of everything. Valentine's Day is a milestone to him. You've stayed with him, like this, for so long, and he wants you to look forward to every year. He will never stop loving you.

You knew that since the first look, but today he proved it.

You look at your watch. It's ticking, and for a moment you thought the numbers were hearts, like hearts on a card. It was close to sunset.

Mikey was taking you up a hill, and had reached to the destination.

A breathtaking view of Shibuya.

You could see your whole tiny world in your hand. Looking down at the people who were now tiny, irrelevant beings in this moment. Your eyes shift up at the sun, who starts to descend. It shines bright in the morning and takes rest in the night, but in between that, there's a moment where it's stuck in a beautiful capture, illuminating all the wonderful things, making darkness show its hidden love.

Mikey takes your hand. He holds your waist. Places his forehead on yours, as you embrace him in a hug.

Tight

Loving

Every word you could think of failed to describe the feeling when you were with Mikey.

He looks in your eyes. The sun pauses in time, the sunset. Mikey didn't come here for the sunset. He came for you.

The sun paused on your lips, shining brighter than ever. A sign.

Mikey moves his face closer to yours, eyes shifting to your lips. He's shaky, but doesn't hesitate. Not for a second.

And there it is

His lips fit on yours like a puzzle piece. It's soft and sweet. It rushes dopamine from your feet to your head and back down, making you fall deeper in Mikey's embrace, you give in.

You never want this feeling to stop, and he will stand by that promise.

As the moon rises up, your kiss ends. But the feeling? It never ends. You look in his eyes and he smiles, you smiling back. A giggle from your mouth erupts as the two of you start laughing in happiness from your first kiss, a big sigh of relief from Mikey.

"Ahhh I've always wanted to do that" He whispers

"All I tasted was dorayaki" you joke

He walks you back to the motorcycle where you pull out each other's gifts, and Mikey's childish eagerness prompts you to look at them.

You remove the wrapping paper as Mikey eagerly watches your reaction. You take out a cute, purple bunny and hug it with happiness, "It's so cute Jiroo!!!" you scream with enthusiasm. Mikey smiles, then with his patience (that's sarcasm), shifts his eyes towards the bag, hinting at the other gift. You pull out a velvet red box and open it up, revealing a beautiful snow globe, with a couple inside. Not just anyone, you, and him. You shook the globe and watched in awe as the mini couple embraced in a hug, shocked at the gift (partly because you never knew it would exist - someone make this!). To my dorayaki. On our first Valentine. From Manjiro. You read from the bottom.

Mikey's brows furrow as he hesitantly waits for your reaction, but this gift was too thoughtful and beautiful for you to tease him "It's just, more than beautiful Jiro!" you whisper, still in awe at the gift. He smiles back, "Heh, I knew you'd like it" ruffling his hands in your hair then eagerly opening your gift. You had knit him a black hat with cat ears, and made a matching pair for yourself. But just as Mikey did, you also got a thoughtful gift.

Wrapped in a box was a letter and a miniature golden statue of his motorcycle, the stand embellished with flowers. You were poetic, and only Mikey knew. Your letter was something you wanted him to read in private, whenever he missed you.

You could see from the light in Mikey's eyes that he loved the gift. The motorcycle would not have been gifted by Shinichiro if you hadn't told Shini what Mikey's favorite model was. The motorcycle was his favorite possession. It was you when he didn't have you. It was a reminder of his loved ones.

And it was a reminder of his loyalty. Your favorite part of him.

"I love you" he whispered

"I know" you said back

The moonlight entwined the two of you together that night. His arm around yours as the two of you drifted off to sleep in his bed.

He kissed you on the lips

"Just a goodnight's kiss ya'know" he defended himself, blushing. "I know Jiro" you said before snuggling into his warm chest, filling you with a feeling of love you only felt from his presence

#manjiro sano #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers fluff #sano mikey manjiro #mikey kun #mikey sano

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crybabytoy59 · 6 months ago

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If you’re willing too open your little heart pt1.

I remember that day as if it was yesterday one message a simple one….

“Pleased too meet you am a single mother of one and just looking to find someone to share our kink with…”

Weeks of fantastic dialogue passed between us laughter, seriously deep conversation, over both my stories and her love of wishing to be a Dominant to a sissy little….

The bdsm thing was not for her. but she told me she truly got why I held a need too let go of years of tears help pent us inside….

Her name was Susan..

A 5’7” beautiful woman with flowing dark brown hair down over her shoulders to a powerful frame from being a swimmer in her early life, she had kept her figure well…

But it was her eyes deep green orbs that punched into your very soul as she smiled that big warm smile she beamed from her high cheek bones !!

Turned out we had lots in common with each other…

But for me she held one huge attraction she loved motorcycles !

So after weeks passed I finally plucked up the courage to ask her to meet up with me for a days riding….

That day was so special I had taken her to a local bike shop to pick out bike gear, this she was Very reluctant to take from me…

But after some pleading eyes and genuine wish for her safety Susan accepted my offer ….

She stood a picture of beautiful womanhood in black leather pants a top of the line adventure jacket and a helmet & gloves to match mine !

That I was so happy Susan insisted we had them matching it felt very personal !…

The bike shop fitted an intercom to her helmet so we could chat with each other…

We spent a day in the Scottish highlands riding that day....

It was truly wonderful as we chattered on the intercom over both the views and amazing roads though the glens…

We stopped at one of my favourite cafes for lunch over looking over a loch, I loved the intimacy that place felt sat in a corner table watching the sparkle of the sun off the water dance on Susan’s face made me smile, Susan lent over to me teasing me...

“Why the little smile you ?”

I looked right at her and softly told her what I was thinking ..

“The light dancing from the water is giving your beauty more radiance Susan you are so beautiful I can’t believe am sitting here with you”

OMG I thought how cheesy 🤯

But Susan took my hand you have a wonderful way with words they are truly genuine little one”

I blushed as the waitress came to take our order.....

After a lovely lunch we set off, agin catting over so many things that the day simply flew bye. On the last part of the run Susan put her hands under my jacket hugging into me It felt so tender I simply didn’t want the ride too End !

9pm I dropped her off as she hugged me warmly kissing my cheek she spoke to me …

“Thank you for everything today I have had a wonderful day little one !”

I blushed slightly again at her referring to me as “little one” as she had mentioned my little side at lunch earlier…

But something happened I genuinely didn’t expect I started Welling up !

I tried to look away but Susan turned me around lifting my chin to her...,

“Hey it’s ok I have you little one… Deep breath and we will get there ok ?”

I nodded with a knot in my throat as I couldn’t speak putting my helmet on I started the Ducati back up as It roared back into life she walked up the door stairs to her home…

I let out the clutch did a blind spot check then pulled away….

To my surprise I heard Susan’s voice in my helmet? …

Unbeknownst to me in her house she had put the helmet back on !

“Now listen very carefully No talking or Mommy will be angry with you baby…Pull over now and park once you do I want you to blow mommy a kiss !”

She said …

I found a good place to stop only 200 yards from her home….

Then blew her a 💋..

“Good baby Mommy likes when you do as told first time…

Now I know your upset right now but mommy wants you to know she has looked into your heart and if it’s genuinely what that heart desires Mommy Will regress you back to a baby…

So go home and rest up my little one Mommy will send you instructions once you are home to what she wants of you tonight…. Off you go baby ride safety ! 💋”…

As I started the bike back up shaking over what had just happened I was crying tears of true happiness only a genuine submissive little would understand…..

Life had Not passed me bye I had truly found someone who understood my little heart….❤️

At home I messaged to say I had arrived safely ...

Almost instantly she text me back....

“Clever little one now strip and shower for Mommy....”

I didn’t need asked twice as I jumped into the hot shower from the day’s riding washing the sweat off....

Hitting the off button the shower stopped as I dried off I lifted my mobile too a second message ...

“Bedtime little one into a terry and plastic pants then your Crybaby grow for mommy please...message once your ready to go down baby”

As I got ready I was Very excited over doing this for mommy Susan ! As I closed the Nappy clinging to the white Nappy cream had me twitching !...

On with my rubber pants and baby grow...

Susan had messaged again....

Mommy wants you too do one last thing for her Ok baby girl ?”

I was lost now as she was calling me her baby girl !

I text back..

“Wess Mommy”

I want you to fill 4 pint tumblers with a few ice cubes in each then fill with water, drink the first in one for Mommy this you Will record on your mobile then send it to your mommy off you go !”

I did as she asked of me downing cold ice water made my nose hurt !...

After sending that clip, another message came..

Clever baby next glass half...then wait two min’s and drink the other half again you will record this for mommy...off you go! “

The second pint was harder but made easier by the wee rest....

Again I sent the clip...

“ Clever baby girl you are for your mommy...now the next one please in four parts, sit on your Botty this time leggies out Wide and No moving just be a good girl and swallow it All down off you go !”....

I did as told Now aware I needed to go quite badly now...wincing as I spread my legs for her on camera !...

This pint was quite uncomfortable to drink as I felt bloated from the cold water.

But I desperately wanted to please Susan so forced my self too drink past the pain...

Sending the clip to her something strange happened she didn’t reply for nearly 15mins ?

“Clever baby girl mommy is very proud of you...Now I want you to Sit there and wet your Nappy for your mommy do Not move sit there ! Off you go !”

OMG I didn’t know if I could in my current state of excitement !

But a few big pushes later I flooded the terry and the plastic plants but they held thankfully....

Panting now I sent the clip...

“My my what a beautiful sight you are wetting for your mommy she is very excited to have such a clever and Obedient baby girl !”

I was in little heaven as mommy explained the last glass was to be for bed time !

I had to crawl to my bedroom and put a cut plastic in bag over a towel to sleep on incase I wet through…

In bed I drank the last slowly as she sent me a list of items I was too purchase tomorrow for my baby training.

Waterproof mattress cover for a single bed as you will not be sleeping in your room anymore instead the spare room.

Fetish Rubber pants that seal completely.

Chocolate flavour laxatives.

7 White beach towels as fluffy as you can purchase.

Mittens and booties from this site in your favourite colour. (Susan sent a link)

6 make an appointment with your dentist to have an upper and lower bite guard made to fit you ….

Now Down too sleep baby princess Mommy loves you 💝

That night was a good sleep but the few times I woke to wetting my terry by morning I was sodden and glad of the plastic sheet & towel as I had leaked and my grow was wet ! ….

Looking groggy at my phn there was a message from Mommy Susan …

“Good morning sweetpee up we get shower time for baby .. But first put your grow in the wash then put your towel into a bag squeeze out all the air then put it into a cupboard.

I did as she asked not questioning her ask of me as I genuinely didn’t want this too stop !

At work I was on cloud nine ! …

The day seemed to drag on as I had No contact from Susan ? Perhaps she was having second thoughts.,,

But at 4:30 as I finished work a message came ..

“Now baby time to go shopping for mommy off you go you have two hours then you Will be home and in your nappies for the evening No eating !”

I set off in the car to pick up the things she asked for I went too M&S as guessed they would sell quality towels I was not disappointed !

They were huge and very fluffy !

As I was there I went to pick up baby powder and or barrier cream … they did a large tub so I bought two, along with a large tub of Vaseline Next was the bed department for the mattress cover.

A visit too boots I found chocolate hot drink laxative buying a few.

I looked at my watch in the queue !

Shit It was 4:40 ! ….

Panicking slightly I thought calm down Sarah won’t know ….

On my drive home I had too stop as she messaged me are you home baby ?

I replied yes as that was at least a half truth as I was in my road.

“Ok get ready for bed and message Mommy !”

Her message seemed a bit short ?

But I took all inside and got ready, again showering and into my new terry beach towel. It felt fantastic and was very full my plastic pants were stretching to there limits…my baby grow was also at full stretch and I had too waddle ..

I hit send on my phone to tell my new Mommy I was ready..

Sarah messaged me back …

“Now baby princess Mommy is Very unhappy with her baby can you tell me why ?”

This took me bye surprise as what had I done wrong ? My list ?

But mommy I purchased the items at lunchtime today? And booked an appointment?

“That was a clever girl..But that’s not why mommy is angry with You ! Tell Your Mommy Now ! Or she Will cut All contact !”

Sitting in my current state I started tearing up ! No way I didn’t want to loose mommy Susan ! …

I don’t know how she knew but it was the only thing I could think of !

My hands were shaking as I text back…

“I told a lie Mommy”

“Much better baby princess Yes you did ..what lie baby girl?”

“I told mommy I was home but I was not ..am very sorry mommy”

“Ok we will deal with that shortly Madam ! But From this moment on Baby will never again lie to your Mommy or this Will end got that ?”

“Wess mommy”…

“Ok little one make up two sachets and drink them both in one ! After that message your work to tell them you have a bad tummy use that description of it !”

Then put the liner on your bed..off you go !”

Half an hour later I messaged her ..

“Done Mommy”

“Now as a punishment you will go to bed Now no supper !

No drink just down to sleep with teddy … and baby no covers ! Night night bad girl !”

That was it nothing else came as I hugged teddy the grumbling had already started ! .,,

20 mins later I had a huge accident in my terrys the smell was bad ! It was a long night cuddling Teddy feeling sad at having let Susan down with a lie ! ….

The next morning….

She messaged me “Morning little one now as Mommy is still upset with you sweetpee she wants you to be a brave girl and do as your told Ok?”

Wess Mommy….

“So get a chair and put it facing the corner in your room sit down in it facing into the corner… take the bag from yesterday morning with you and message Mommy your home address.. remember to unlock your door baby girl !

O M G !!

This was a huge surprise Susan wanted to know my address…

This scared me as this meant genuine trust but wadding in my soiled terry to get a chair and the bag I made my way back to my room sat and messaged…

“Ready Mommy”

“Ok chair tightly in the corner straddling it put the bag at face hight pushing your mouth to it bite down too hold it in place under your nose…then handies out wide on the walls at shoulder hight…

Mommy will be with you soon bad girl !”

My heart was pounding out of my chest now over did as she asked of me ! …

30 mins later my front door opened but I sat waiting on Susan for what seemed ages….

Then the spare room door opened..

I felt her hands on my shoulders !

“Well well have we been a good girl ?”

I shook my head…

“Yes baby princess indeed we have not telling lie’s to Mommy is Not acceptable Madam so mommy is going to punish you so baby understands Mommy is in charge !… sit up straight handies behind your back !”

Susan was pulling on my arm binder ! ..

then she pulled my feet backwards taping them too the rear legs of the chair ! …

“Take big Deep breaths for Mommy..!”

Susan pulled a huge clear bag over me ! Pulling it down over the chair she tipped me forward then backwards to get it under the chair!

“ Now sit there and think about your behaviour till Mommy prepares your Punishment “

She then ripped the yesterday morning bag putting it under the bag up onto my lap ! ….

The smell was instant ! Stale urine …She then turned me around to face the window !

“I do hope nobody looks in on there way past !…clever girlie baby princess let it all out Mommy is going to help you with that shortly !”

She kissed my cheek through the plastic now steaming up ! Smiling like the cat that had the cream ! ….

Susan left the room I could hear her doing things…

My mind running wild with thoughts !…

Susan returned some time later with a small bag setting it down at my side she straddled the chair to sitting my lap…

“Hold nice and still baby girl”

She took out a pair of scissors cutting the bag along its top, then gathered up the loose around my neck she put my Velcro quilted bib on me !

it had Winnie the Pooh characters on it .

“Phew we are quite the wee stinker for Mommy ! … now Open Wide and put your naughty tongue out !”..

She lifted a bar of soap stroking my tongue with it ! ..

“So because you have been naughty Mommy is going to was this mouth of yours out baby if your genuinely sorry by the end of this Mommy will get you changed and ready for the day ahead..?”

I went to say Wess Mommy but Susan suddenly pushed the bar Deep into my mouth soap scraping onto my teeth !

“Headie back !”

She barked at me ! .. then started pumping the soap bar in and out of my mouth relentlessly !

I started gagging as she spoke to me ….

“ So baby girl are you sorry for telling lies ! (Nodded my headie!) Will there be any future lies ? As You know what Mommy will do yes ..? Cut all contact and you will not be Mommy’s baby girl! “

I burst out crying ….

I think this took her by surprise…

“Hush hush now baby Mommy has you open wide !”

Susan removed the soap bar then …

Lifted a bowl of sweet portage feeding me I ate it greedily keen to rid my mouth of the horrible taste of soap ! …

As I finished my feed she got off me … throwing my changing mat on the floor..

“Let’s get you cleaned up then into the bath baby girl”

I was removed from the wooden chair then laying on the mat Mommy handed me teddy and a bottle of milk …

She cleaned up my soiled bottom and took my hand leading me too my bathroom, the bath was already prepared for me so I got in….

The intimacy Susan washed me with was wonderful as I played with my wee ship… after washed she dried me in a fluffy towel… cuddling me in she spoke…

“Now let’s get you ready baby girl…Mommy has A lovely day planned for you”

This sounded a little cryptic as Susan had a slight wicked smile as she told me this….

Laying back on the mat playing with teddy mommy put barrier cream over my nappy area paying particular attention to my rear as she teased my hole ! ..

“Someone is being naughty”

As she tapped my now full on flag pole !

“Baby do you like your botty being played with ? (Wess Mommy) My my baby girl let’s see !”

Susan put on a rubber glove pushed a cream covered finger into me slowly !

It was pure heaven..

but a few moments later a second finger joined the first as I whimpered aloud…

“Hush hush now baby Mommy knows your a tight wee girl, so we will go slowly darling girl”

A slow finger fuck started I was moaning with pleasure as mommy was now circling my prostrate !

“Clever Baby girlie just relax for Mommy”

I was so close to coming when Mommy removed her fingers..

I was panting as she suddenly pushed a plug deep inside me ! Taping my twitching clittie away in a huge black disposable nappy she had brought with her ?

My plastic pants were next with my pink frilly terry lined bloomers over them, mommy then sat me up to cuddle me, with my legs spread wide as she knelt kneeing my thighs apart wide and I do mean Wide ! ..

Her embrace was Devine her smell now Very powerful due to my heightened sexual state !

“Clever Baby girlie your doing ever so well for Mommy !”

Susan was playing with my nipples..

I was ready to have a huge blowout there and then ..but she knew it ! …

Susan smiled at me ..

“Your ever so cute when you moan baby girlie…Now stand up !”

She pulled on my silk body suit, this was a shorts and top affair with big puffy sleeves Frills and bows adorned it !

At the arms and legs lace set the sissy baby look off…

Next was tights Susan had brought with her these came with a white garter belt that was now fastened to the tights over my silk frilly body suit,

Over this she put wee ankle socks on me they were see through with frilly ankles..

Susan kissed my cheek !

I was in quite a state !! . ..

“Clever Baby girlie..Now go put your bike gear on we are going out for a run and get some lunch …Would you like that baby girlie?”

I could’t speak I just nodded..as mommy giggled at my current plight !

20mins later I stood in my bike gear ..

It was a hot day but I had on my Adventure pants with the bib part fitted and the lining out as that was the only way I could get it too fit ! …

Mommy had put on her bike gear as I got on she put her intercom on.

“Now baby girl this is a Big thing mommy is letting you do so best behaviour and concentrate on the road ok ?”

Wess Mommy

“Clever Baby…now we are going to have you meet Stephanie don’t fret she won’t know what you have on sweetpee (I knew she was a single parent with a three year old but meeting her dressed as a baby ?) …Now follow the directions!”

The satnav sprang to life in my ear as Mommy got on the bike ..an hour later we pulled up at a large house in the countryside…?

“This is my Mothers house just relax and act normal ok I will do all the talking … “

Susan gave a wee giggle as we both got off the bike…

She lead me too the front door opening it to a beautiful large hallway.. the home was very posh !

An older woman walked out of a room to greet Susan .

“Hello Darling how was the ride? ..”

Susan looked at me telling her mother I had been very carful and safely with her ..

The woman turned to me and spoke directly to me.

“Well done you that’s a very big bike for you.. thank you for keeping Susan safe for me”

she kissed my cheek this took me by surprise.,.

“Now let’s go and meet Stephanie …”

Susan took my hand..

I walked at Susan’s side as they chatted..

to a door that said ..

“Stephanie’s nursery”

As I walked in Susan turned to me ..

“Close your eyes !”

I now felt a little intimidated as I closed my eyes …

I felt Susan take my jacket off !

Please Susan no …

“Hey hey it’s ok Baby Nana knows all about you Baby just relax…”

I was stripped to my baby attire !

I felt her patting my frilly rear . “Open your eyes baby girl !”

But it was not Susan’s voice it was her mother’s ! ….

As my eyes adjusted to the bright lights the far wall was completely mirrored as was the ceiling ! But it was what was in the mirrors a full blown Adult baby Nursery with cot high chair changing station & a huge pink wooden horse !

“Say hello to Stephanie !”

They both laughed as my face went red !!

Mommy went behind me taking out her mobile phone..smiling to me ..

I suddenly bent forwards as the plug sprang to life ! Whimpering…

“My my little Stephanie have you got your toy in ?”

Nana asked me…

Susan spanked my rear to a loud thud !

“Answer your Nana !”

Wess Nana !…

“Yes what baby Stephanie?”

I hwave my twoy in Nana

“Clever Baby girlie much better that’s the way you will address me from now on baby girlie… Now Mommy tells me your here to be punished is that true ?”

I looked at Mommy …

“No sweetpee the mouth soaping was just for your naughty words of lies from that mouth.. Now Nana and I are going to punish you baby Stephanie till you cry your baby girlie heart out as Mommy knows it’s what you want and need princess”

Nana was pulling out a bench !

I instantly recognised it as a Spanking bench ! …

Mommy was holding a steel pole with cuffs at each end she bent down at the bench screwing half way up the A frame ! ….

Nana was at my waist unfastening the garter too my tights !

She removed it as Mommy joined her....

“Handies on your head baby girlie!”

They removed my socks and tights ! Then my plastic pants followed by my disposable ! …

It was wet ! I had been so nervous I had wet it !..

“Stephanie really I just put you in a new nappy missy !”

I wanted the ground to open up !

“Up on the bench princess !”

As I went forward I could see the bar a little closer ! It had a built in humbler ! …

“Step over the bar baby girlie ! ..that’s it clever girlie..now back up to the bar tightly please !”

Nanna patted my rear ..

“What a clever baby !”

Mommy pulled my balls back under the O ring that was open, then Nana shut the gate on me trapping my balls backwards !

She again patted my rear …

”That keep you nice and still as we spank you baby !”

Mommy was cuffing my wrists down as Nana put a huge wide belt over my back holding me down! ..

Mommy came to my face .

“Now baby Stephanie Mommy did tell you she was not into the whole. BDSM thing but punishment well am afraid that’s a given in Your case baby girlie !…

so Nana & I are going to make you shed some of those long held Tears baby …Now open wide for Mommy !”

I did as Susan asked of me but Nana spanked me !

“Wider madam ! Get that naughty Mouth Wider !”

I forced my mouth open too its absolute Maximum !

As Mommy stuffed my own frilly pants deeply into my cheeks wedging my mouth too the Max !…

But my plight was far from over as Nana wound electric tape over the wading then Mommy wound vet wrap over that tightly !

Next Mommy put a pair of her pants over my face they were still hot and soaking with warm sex !

“These are from out special day baby girlie I have worn them since !”

Mommy Smiling at me pulled them over my face lining up the wet part with my nose !

lifting my sissy hood a black open faced affair that had an oval just for the eyes & nose it had pink oval padding covering the ears & a pink belt at the neck part fed through the leather loops adorning it, the rear was a lace up affair …

That Mommy was now tugging on to tighten..

I had worn it before but Never this Tightly !….

I was now panting through my nose as the powerful aroma of my new Mommy made me excited downstairs !!

They both giggled as Nana put cream on my shaft pulling on what I thought was a condom !

I was sadly mistaken as Mommy strapped a bag to my thigh !

“Mommy start first baby girlie !”

Susan kissed my cheek then went behind me as a hand spanking started …

It wasn’t that bad but in my heightened state I moaned and gasped along ..

Then Nana spanked me too !

They kept rubbing my rear as I moaned with each spanking as they swapped turns tilll my rear was quite hot !

Then Mommy spoke to me again …

“Big deep breath little Lady !”

Thwack ! ….

Mommy spanked me with a wooden paddle !

OMG it stung ..but as I panted out the pain a second hit home …then a third !

Six in all..

Nana took the paddle resuming where Mommy left off with a further six ! …

Mommy was at my face talking too me.

“Clever Baby you’re doing ever so well …that’s it cry all you want for us… there there let it all out !..Ready Nana ! ..begin!”

Thwack ! THWACK..!!

Nana paddled me full force till I was bawling hysterically ! ! …

Then Mommy took over as Nana mocked me ..

“That’s a clever baby crying your cute eyes out for us....Your not going to be sitting for a few days baby girlie telling lies I do hope you are learning your lesson Madam !....Pardon ?”

Nana smiled at me Wicked !

“Darling Baby Stephanie is asking if you could give her 12 full force in rapid please ?”

I heard Susan giggling as a white hot pain seared through me in twelve rapid pulses !

It was too much I collapsed genuinely Bawling like a three year old !

Mommy unstrapped me from all my restraining then led my to the cot she sat in then pulled me over her chest cuddling me in rocking back and forth patting my back..

“Hush Hush its all over Now Baby....Mommy is very proud of you for taking your Punishment so well....what a lot of tears baby girlie You must have needed that ever so bad...(I nodded) Well from now on You are to tell Mommy honestly when you feel the need to cry Ok ? Then we can come visit Nana....now let’s get your nappy back on and you can have a little nap while Nana and I prepare your lunch Clever baby on your back and hold your leggies up in the air for Mommy ! She will put Mr Pluggie back in !”

Mommy put in the plug then put my wet nappy back on as she said it was only just wet and she didn’t like waste !

Then she put me on my side covered me with a blanket and pulled up the cot side...

“Clever Baby off too sleep..Mommy Wake you for lunchtimes”

I fell asleep still sobbing my heart out my rear on fire !...

It was the best sleep I had in Years !....

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