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touya todoroki x gn!reader, 700 words mdni nsfw(ish)
touya has been a thorn in your side ever since you started watching shoto. after sharing a brief and confusing kiss in the rain, you find yourself once again at odds with him.
contents: tsundere!touya, reader babysits shoto, no use of y/n, physical restraint, bullying, light coercion, no smut yet but give me timeâŠ
notes: part of something larger that iâve been scheming for a while. writerâs block is killing me rn, so tbh Iâm just desperate to get something out there.
please note that this story contains unhealthy relationship dynamics and coercion that could be interpreted as dub-c0n
Touya shook his head in disbelief. âI find you sulking out in the rain. Let you change into my clothes. Dry off using my towels. And now you want me to apologize?â
He seemed genuinely confused, which only made you angrier.
âYes! Of course I want an apology. Did you think that kissing me would erase the fact that youâve spent the last six months systematically destroying my self-esteem?â
Sighing, Touya ran a hand through his hair. âFuck youâre so needy. Canât you just let it go already?â
âNo, I canât.â Clenching your fists at your sides, you took a step back, worried that youâd slap him if you stayed within an arms length. âAnd while weâre on the subject of needy, letâs dive into the fact that youâre desperate to get my attention. All. The. Time.â
He stiffened, his lips pressing into a thin line, and that reaction alone was enough to tell you that youâd read him right.
âItâs so⊠itâs so fucking junevile,â you said, taking advantage of his silence to process your own feelings. âLike weâre in grade school or something. Iâm tired of it, and I donât want to reward your shitty behavior by letting you do whatever you want.â
Turning away from him, you reached for the doorknob, your fingers brushing the cold metal before you felt Touyaâs hand lock around your wrist.
âYouâve got it wrong,â he said, pulling you back towards him. The motion was sharp enough that you stumbled, bumping into his chest. His other hand found your hip, holding you in place.
âLet me go,â you snapped, but he only tightened his grip.
âYou said you donât want to reward my shitty behaviorâŠâ His voice was quiet, more serious than it had been. ââŠBut thatâs a pretty messed up way to think about it if you ask me.â
âI didnât ask yââ
âNot taking your own feelings into account is just as inconsiderate as anything Iâve done. If I get with someone itâs because I want to, not because I think theyâve earned it.â
Slowly, his arms wound around you, making every muscle in your body tense.
âNice to know you have some kind of moral code.â Clenching your hands at your sides, you stared at the wood grain of the door. âSeriously, though. It was just a kiss, Touya.â
Your heart raced, your pulse pounding in your ears. It was so loud that you barely caught his next words, spoken quietly and with an unfamiliar sweetness that set you on edge.
âIt was just a kiss, but I think we both know it wonât stay the way.â His hands found their way to your chest, squeezing gently. âI can tell that you want this as much as I do. Why are you still holding back?â
You set your jaw, determined not to acknowledge the steady creep of arousal stoked by his touches. His lips were on your neck - when had that happened? - pressing a trail of slow, sensual kisses up towards your jaw. Oh, how badly you wanted to lean into him, to let him take what he wanted.
No, not just what he wantedâ what you both wanted. It was wrong to remove yourself from the equation, on that at least heâd been right.
Touya nipped at the soft skin of your throat and you sucked in a sharp breath. His hands slid lower, his thumb catching the waistband of the boxers heâd lent you and tugging it down an inch or so.
âAnd if I do want thisâŠâ you began, breaking off when he moved his hand to your stomach, allowing the elastic snap back into. âIf I do want this, what comes next?â
âYou. Or me, I guess. Whoever gets there first.â
Exhaling in irritation, you caught his wrists, holding his hands in place while you waited for a proper answer.
âIâm serious, Touya.â
âI am too.â
He kissed you again, his mouth working its way up towards your chin. You forced yourself to pull away, but this time you both knew that it was a half hearted attempt.
âYouâre still lying to yourself,â he murmured in your ear. âCâmon, doll. Tell me what you really want.â
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âwell, look at you. youâve got it bad, donât you kakashi?â
contents: bartender!reader, no use of y/n, lust at first sight, crushes, no smut (yet) but some sexual content, inaccurate depiction of yukata, the one and only time that jiraiya is a decent wingman
notes: so back in 2019 i made a kunoichi bartender oc and six years later iâm still a little obsessed with her. make no mistakeâ this snippet is 100% self-insert, but someday iâll have to get around to dropping the rest of my original ocâs lore.
also, if you have any guesses as to whatâs going on with jiraiya iâd love to hear them.
âYouâre surprisingly well behaved tonight,â Kakashi says, watching his companion out of the corner of his eye.
Jiraiya pours the last of the sake into his cup and drains it in one go. âI donât know what you mean. Iâm always well behaved.â
Somethingâs going on here, Kakashi can sense it. Heâs been to this pub a few times and while the food is quite good, itâs got nothing on Ichiraku. So when Jiraiya had suggested it as a meeting place, Kakashiâs mind immediately jumped to you, the owner and bartender. It would be so totally Jiraiya to pick a spot based solely on a hot bartender, and Kakashi had arrived fully prepared to keep the sage on a fucking leash if need be. Except thatâs not how things are going.
âIâm just surprised is all,â he says mildly. âI assumed you came here with your research in mind.â
Kakashiâs gaze drifts to you as he speaks, lingering on the sliver of thigh peeking out from your yukata. The sash is askew, tied just above your hip as if youâd gotten dressed in a hurry, and Kakashi looks away when he feels his cock start to stir. Shit. This is why he doesnât come here often. He can usually keep his cool around beautiful women, but thereâs something about you that fucks with his head.
Maybe itâs that none of your clothes fit quite right. Yukata are meant to be high necked and modest, smoothing the lines of the body and erasing any preexisting curves. Yours do neither of those things, instead providing tantalizing flashes of skin as the oversized fabric falls away from your chest and hips.
Somehow you never seem to notice, always propping your head on your hand when you listen to your customers, completely unaware of the torture youâre inflicting on them. Itâs not fair. How can you be so beautiful and so messy at the same time?
Messy. Yeah, thatâs what he likes so much. It resonates with a very primal part of him.
Jiraiya laughs when he sees Kakashiâs eyes dart away from you. âMy research, huh? Yeah, no. The only thing on my mind tonight is having a drink with an old friend.â
He signals for another bottle, and Kakashi feels a blush begin to creep over the edges of his mask as he tries not to stare at how you look reaching up to snag one from the shelf.
âHere you go,â you say, setting it down in front of them. âIâm glad to see you again, Master Jiraiya. Itâs been awhile.â
âToo long, perhaps.â Jiraiya pushes his cup forwards, letting you fill it. âHave you met my friend here?â
He nods towards Kakashi, who tries not to sink lower into his seat when you fix your eyes on him.
âWeâve met, though I donât think youâve ever told me your name.â
Leaning forwards to rest your elbows on the counter, you offer your hand as you introduce yourself.
âIâm Kakashi Hatake,â he says coolly, shaking it. He tries not to think about how soft your skin feels against his own.
âAh, youâre the Copy Ninja, right?â
âYes, I am.â Out of the corner of his eye he sees Jiraiya pouring him another cup of sake.
âI had no idea.â Drawing back, you rest your elbows on the counter again. âIt makes sense though. The mask and all.â
You gesture to your lips. Kakashi manages to keep his focus on your eyes, a feat that can only be described as Herculean when the collar of your yukata slips over your shoulder. Neither you nor Jiraiya seem particularly bothered by it. Heâs saved from any further embarrassment when another customer signals for you.
âBe right there,â you call, straightening up. The bar has begun to fill up as the after dinner crowd filters in.
You turn back to Kakashi and Jiraiya, giving them a little wave with the tips of your fingers. âIt was good to see both of you. Let me know if I can get you anything else, okay?â
Once youâre safely out of earshot, Jiraiya lets out a low whistle. Thereâs a smug smile on his face that Kakashi would do just about anything to wipe off.
âWell, look at you. Youâve got it bad, donât you Kakashi?â
Kakashi doesn't reply right away, pulling down his mask to take a sip of his drink. His visible eye rakes over Jiraiya, brows furrowing as he frowns.
âSeriously, what is going on tonight? Not even a nosebleed?â
âItâs complicated,â Jiraiya says with a shrug. âBut I know you wonât believe me if I tell you Iâm not into her like that.â
Well, Kakashi has to admit that heâs right on that one. He doesnât believe him.
âItâs not that sheâs not beautiful,â Jiraiya continues, folding his arms. âItâs just⊠ah, how do I put this? She reminds me too much of myself.â
âOf yourself,â Kakashi echoes, his tone flat. âCare to elaborate on that?â
âItâs kind of like looking in a mirror. I canât think of another way to explain it.â
Nodding slowly, Kakashi watches you recline against the counter as you chat with another group of patrons. His eyes flick from you to Jiraiya to you again. Unless Jiraiya is hiding some very lovely curves beneath his sageâs tunic, he canât see any obvious similarities. âI think I must be missing something here. Are you two related or something?â
Jiraiya laughs, shaking his head. âOh, youâre way off.â
âOkayâŠâ
Kakashi stops, racking his brain for another possible explanation. This would be so much easier if the sake werenât fogging up his synapses, but even so he does his best to take stock of what little information he has.
Right now he knows three things for sure:
Youâre not related to Jiraiya.
Youâre an adult.
You have a body that most of the men in the bar canât take their eyes off of.
Those should be a winning combination for the sage. After a long moment Kakashi slumps forwards, sipping at his drink to numb the sting of defeat.
ââŠIâve got nothing.â
Jiraiya grins, folding his arms. âI could tell you, but I wonât. Itâs no fun if you donât figure it out for yourself.â
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contents: teaching assistant!gojo, student! reader, no curses, college au, slight age difference (gojo is 20, you are a couple years older), he falls first, no smut (for now)
notes: haha sooooo i posted this on ao3 back in march and completely forgot to put it up here as well. (image citation)
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | read on ao3
Itâs a Thursday night, and Gojo is putting on a face mask. Itâs one of those pink clay onesâ heâs not even sure where it came from but now seems as good a time as ever to try it. The bathroom mirror is still a little foggy from the shower he just took, but not so bad that he feels the need to reach out and wipe it away.
When he steps out into the hall, still with a towel wrapped low around his hips and that dayâs clothing slung over one arm, his mind is miles away. And then his eyes lock with yours, and he freezes.
âOh. Hey.â Itâs the only thing he can think of to say.
âHey,â you echo, sounding way more calm than he feels right now.
Youâre across the room, sitting at the kitchen counter, laptop open in front of you. He catches when your gaze starts to slip down the contours of his body, snapping back up to meet his own admirably fast.
âI should get dressed,â he says, though heâs still frozen in place.
âThatâs probably a good idea.â
Gojo excuses himself with as much grace as itâs possible to have when your very indifferent crush catches you in nothing but a towel, shutting his bedroom door and leaning against it. Or maybe youâre not so indifferent after all. Heâd seen the way youâd looked at him, the closest thing to flustered heâs ever seen you. Is that how youâd look the first time heâ
No, not right now. He can save that for when youâre out of earshot. Even so, Gojo canât help but wonder if youâre suppressing your own dirty thoughts. He swears under his breath, running a hand through his still damp hair. His wrist comes away smudged with pink, and with a jolt he remembers heâs wearing the face mask. Because of fucking course he is. How does he always manage to embarrass himself in front of you?
When heâs dried off and dressed in what could pass for loungewear but is actually a very carefully curated outfit, Gojo sneaks back into the bathroom to wash off the mask. It really doesnât make much of a differenceâ heâs blushing so hard that his cheeks are nearly the same color as the clay.
Youâre still sitting in the same place, your laptop in front of you. A notebook rests on the counter beside you, open to a page crowded with what he immediately recognizes as your handwriting.
âSorry about that,â he says, trying to keep his voice casual. âI thought it was just me in the apartment.â
âSuguru didnât tell you I was coming over?â
Gojo knows thereâs a couple texts from Geto unopened in his messages app and curses himself for not bothering to read them. Thankfully you donât seem to expect an answer.
âHe told me to let myself in since heâs running late. Sorry, I assumed youâd be out.â
âWell, since youâre here, can I get you anything?â he offers. âI was going to make myself some tea.â
This is a lie. Gojo rarely (if ever) drinks tea, but he knows you like it. Geto had mentioned it in passing a while ago and heâd filed it away in his brain for a time such as this. Totally worth it, since you visibly brighten up at the suggestion.
âIâd love some. Thank you.â
Shutting your laptop, you watch as he fills the kettle and sets it to boil. Youâre never an overly formal person, at least not in terms of your appearance, but thereâs something different about you right now. You look relaxed, swimming in a t-shirt thatâs a couple sizes too big, clearly having taken a shower of your own not too long ago. Your hair is still wet in some places, the stray hairs along the back of your neck sticking to your skin. Even your expression seems less guarded, and Gojo wonders how many times you and Geto have spent the afternoon studying here. Heâs usually out until later in the evening, busy with either school or more likely social engagements. Maybe heâs been missing out.
âWhat are you and Suguru working on?â he asks, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms.
âWe have to lead a discussion tomorrow in Womenâs Lit. Iâm glad we got paired togetherâ heâs good at that kind of thing.â
Iâm glad you got paired together too, Gojo thinks, his eyes shifting to the kettle. How long does it even take for water to boil? He looks away, remembering that saying about watched pots.
âSuguruâs always been a strong public speaker. Heâs very charismatic when he wants to be,â Gojo says. âAnd heâs good at getting people to like him.â
âWhat about you?â you ask, propping your cheek in your hand. âWould you say youâre good at that too?â
âIâm good at everything.â
âRight, how could I forget.â
If he didnât know better, heâd say youâre suppressing a smile right now. The two of you lapse into silence again and Gojo looks down at his hands, his mind drifting back to the last time youâd smiled at him. Heâs been thinking about that conversation a lot lately, especially after his talk with Manami, replaying it in his mind as if somehow itâll help him glean new insight into your personality.
It hasnât. He knows if he wants to get to know you better heâs going to have to start putting in work, which is going to be a real pain because effort is the only skill that doesnât come naturally to him. When the kettle finally boils, Gojo pours hot water into the two cups on the counter and watches as color begins to leech from the teabags. Itâs almost hypnotic; maybe he should try drinking this stuff more often.
He blinks at the sound of your chair against the floor, looking up as you rise from it to join him in the kitchen.
âThe teaâs finished,â he says, offering you a mug. âBe careful, itâs still hot.â
He cringes inwardly as you reach out and take it from him. Why had he felt the need to explain that to you? âItâs still hot.â No shit, Satoru. Itâs tea, of course itâs hot.
âThank you,â you say, blowing away some of the steam rising from the cup. He expects you to return to your spot at the counter and pick up where youâd left off, but instead heâs pleasantly surprised when you make your way over to the couch. Trailing after you, he sits down on the opposite side, fighting the urge to fidget as he tries to think of something to say. For your part you seem content to enjoy the silence, but Gojo isnât going to waste this opportunity, acutely aware that Geto could walk in at any moment and put an end to your time together. He tries to mask his own nerves by taking a sip of his own tea. Itâs still too hot (as heâd so thoughtfully reminded you), not to mention horribly bitter, and he almost grimaces but stops himself just in time.
So much for drinking it more often, he thinks, setting it down on the coffee table.
âHey, Gojo?â
âWhatâs up?â He turns to you, startled when he realizes youâve been studying his face.
You tilt your head to one side, looking him up and down. âYou donât really like tea, do you?â
His eyes drift to his abandoned cup and he shakes his head, defeated. âNo, I donât. I think I might hate it, actually.â
You smile again. Itâs faint, but this time heâs sure of what heâs seeing. âThank you for making it. That was sweet of you.â
Gojo wishes he could reach out and catch those words. Heâd frame them, maybe put them up on a wall next to all your other comments that have made his heart speed up. Theyâve become almost as precious to him as your smiles. Almost.
You lean forward to place your cup next to his, making him jump when your thigh presses against him. The understuffed couch has begun its nefarious work, the pillows in the middle buckling just enough to force the two of you closer together. It doesnât seem to bother you, though he knows by now that physical contact isnât something that makes you uncomfortable.
âHowâs Creative Writing been?â
Again he turns to find youâve been studying him, your arms wrapped around your middle.
âIâm learning things,â he says, shrugging. âFor instance, I now know that Iâm not a poetry person.â
âYou didnât know that before?â
âFair point. I guess Iâm not learning things.â
The two of you are definitely closer than you had been a moment before, though you donât seem to notice the way the couch is pushing you together. Gojo on the other hand, always hyper aware of your proximity to him, has definitely noticed. Heâs trying not to think about it too much, a goal which he believes might be unattainable when you reach for your tea and again your knee brushes his. This is ridiculous. Heâs not that touch starved, is he?
âI have to write one,â he says, trying to distract himself. âA poem, I mean, before the end of the semester. I have no idea where to start.â
âDo you have any specific guidelines?â
âNot really.â Leaning back, Gojo fixes his eyes on the ceiling, absently staring at the smoke detector while his brain focuses on other things. âIt needs to be a similar format to something weâve covered, but that doesnât narrow it down much. Weâve done a bunch of journal entries to prepare for it but they havenât helped either.â
You nod thoughtfully. âThat definitely makes things more difficult. Youâve still got plenty of time though.â
He does have plenty of time. From an objective standpoint, Gojo recognizes that itâs a little more than halfway through the term, but thinking about his final project has his mind drifting to what other classes will be coming to an end.
Biology, for one.
The thought makes him nervous, even sad when he realizes that thereâs a good chance he wonât see you as often once you no longer need him as a tutor. Itâs the same thing heâd felt when heâd walked you home, painfully aware that his time with you is limited. Beside him you sense somethingâs off, looking over.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothing,â he says, though he can tell you donât believe him. âI guess Iâm just worried about the poem.â
You give him a dubious look but donât press him, instead shifting back to your original spot on the couch and putting some space between you. Gojo frowns. Did you think it was your closeness that had bothered him? No, he realizes, that wasnât it. It was the lie that had made you uncomfortable. His lies are always what make you pull away.
âActually youâre right,â he says, clearing his throat. âThere is something wrong. I just⊠I donât really want to think about it right now.â
You nod, your body relaxing. Heâs not even sure if itâs a conscious response to the truth, but thatâs something he can dissect later. The only thing Gojo cares about right now is that youâre close to him again.
âWhat would you rather think about?â you ask, and finish the last of your tea.
He remembers the walk home from dinner, remembers the things he wondered about as he stood under the cold stream of the shower that night. What was it heâd asked himself? He blurts out the first thing that comes into his head.
âWhatâs your favorite color?â
You look up from your mug, bemused. âMy favorite color?â
âYeah,â he says. âYour favorite color.â
âHm.â Your eyes wander to the middle distance as you consider the question. âBlue, I think. What about you?â
âThe same, I think. Or maybe purple.â
You reflect on his answer before nodding your agreement. âPurpleâs good. Are you going to drink the rest of that?â
He follows your gaze to his teacup, still sitting on the coffee table.
âNah. Itâs all yours if you want it.â
Clearly you do, if the speed with which you switch the mugs is anything to go by. Neither of you say much after that, and while Gojo would usually consider that a bad sign, this time it feels different. Itâs the silence of two people content in each otherâs company, as opposed to the silence of two people who have nothing to say. You finish off his tea impressively fast, setting the cup down and returning to your position at his side.
Gojo isnât sure which of you dozes off first, but when Geto finally gets home he finds you slumped against each other fast asleep.
satoru gojo x fem reader x kento nanami, 4.2k words mdni
according to gojo, the best way to start a rumor is by causing a scene.
contents: fake relationship, office au, no curses au, workplace relationship, friends with benefits, eventual smut, tomfoolery
warnings: references to past depressive episodes, alcohol use
notes: happy semi-annual update! i had to wring my soul out like a wet towel to get it down on paper but by talos i did it (image citation)
chapter 1 | chapter 2 | read on ao3
Outside of work, you and Nanami have been alone together on exactly one occasion. It was last autumn, back before youâd sworn off alcohol (completely unrelatedâ more on that later), when the two of you had ended up at an izakaya near the train station after a particularly grueling Tuesday.Â
Nanami had been an unknown variable back then. He was always pleasant enough, but there was something about him that made you nervous. Itâs not like heâd ever done anything to make you uneasy, more that he was too professional. Too polite. Too put together. His perfection made you conscious of all your faults, so you avoided him when you could, even when it was to the detriment of your performance at work.
Maybe that same performance drop is how heâd figured out you were in a bad place. Thereâs no one specific thing you can point to, no singular event that set things off, but Nanami mustâve sensed that something was wrong because heâd broken his âno overtimeâ rule and stayed late that night. After that, the two of you walked down to a bar just down the street and you sat across from him and started to say something completely normal like âthank you for staying to help meâ or âitâs nice seeing you outside of the officeâ except instead you burst into tears. He didnât look surprised, which somehow made things worse.Â
You cried for nearly two hours - even now, youâre not sure why - and Nanami sat there and let you tire yourself out while you talked at him like you were reciting a damn soliloquy. He listened and watched with those soft brown eyes and god, it was so humiliating to let him see such an ugly side of you, but at the same time you needed to tell someone, anyone, that things werenât okay and Nanami seemed content to be that person.Â
He didnât speak much as you spilled your life story. Had you been sober this wouldâve been enough to make you clam up, embarrassed and unwilling to bother him any more than you already had. But you were most certainly not sober, so though you made note of his silence, it wasnât something you paid much attention to.
At one point your hand caught the lip of the nearly empty tokkuri and set it off balance, a few drops of mediocre sake spilling onto the table. Nanami righted it and slid the ceramic away from you, catching your wrists and setting them gently on the table to keep your gestures from becoming too wild. Even through the haze of tears and alcohol you were keenly aware of how long his fingers were and how easy it was for him to hold both your wrists with just one hand.Â
He released you a moment later, wiping up the spilled sake with a napkin, and you could only stare at him as you tried to process what you were feeling. It was a different brand of anxiety than what you were used to, one that would take a while to decipher. He tucked the napkin into his empty glass and asked you a question. You canât remember what it was, just that it proved heâd been listening to you, and that was what allowed the pieces of the puzzle that was Nanami to finally click into place.Â
He wasnât aloof or disinterestedâ quite the opposite, in fact. He was someone who listened, someone who took the time to let others finish speaking before sharing his own thoughts. The knowledge that heâd actually been paying attention nearly set you off crying all over again, but you managed to keep it together.Â
And then you started to sober up because at some point (probably after the tokkuri incident) youâd both switched to drinking water. With sobriety came self awareness and with self awareness came shame. You spent five minutes in the bathroom scrubbing smeared mascara from your cheeks with a rough paper towel until your skin felt raw. Then Nanami gave you a ride home and you watched him out of the corner of your eye as he drove, thinking about all the ways youâd felt when he pinned your hands to the counter.
Your first move upon arriving at your apartment was to take a very cold shower, desperate to cool your blushes and wash the salt from your cheeks. As you stood under the spray of icy water, staring at the tiled wall of your bathroom, you realized that you might be in love with Kento Nanami. It was a ridiculous thought, one that, at the time, you attributed to the sake still running through your veins.
The next day, when you arrived at work with what was (at the time) the worst hangover of your life, Nanami greeted you as though nothing had happened. Youâve never spoken to him about your conversation in the izakaya, never even thanked him for his kindness and patience, but things were different after that. Those thoughts youâd been so quick to write off lingered in the back of your mind, becoming harder to ignore as the time went on.Â
 You know that youâre doing this all wrong, but thatâs just how things are with Nanami. Always backwards. Feelings before words and love before like.
The unfortunate caveat to an office AU is that it takes place in an office. At the end of the day itâs still a workplace, and both you and Gojo find yourselves too busy to do much scheming until he finishes his stint in solitary. On Friday, exactly one week before his final presentation, you steal another brief conversation by the coffee machine, lingering there a little longer than necessary while you stir sugar into your cup.
âLooks like Iâm not the only one with a sweet tooth.âÂ
You shake your head in disgust, not looking up. âI like sugar with my coffee. You like coffee with your sugar. We are not the same.â
âAnd whoâs that second one for?â Gojo asks, peering over your shoulder. âDonât tell me I have another rival. One is more than enough.â
You finally turn to face him, frowning as you gesture to the other cup. âDonât play dumb, you know damn well itâs for Itadori. Who else would have a Human Earthworm themed mug?â
âFair point,â he concedes, leaning an elbow on the counter. âItâs nice of you to bring him some. Poor kidâs been all over the place lately.â
Itadori is one of the few interns you have much contact with, and even then itâs only because your desk is next to his. Heâs sweetâ too sweet for a corporate setting, and itâs clear that heâs not the kind of person whoâs wired to sit still for long periods of time. Caffeine is probably the last thing he needs, but you always offer to grab him a cup anyway just to see how his face lights up.
Gojoâs voice rouses you from your thoughts. âYou seem tired. Not staying late again, are you?â
âNot staying late,â you confirm. âAny progress on starting that rumor?â
âNah, still waiting on the right opportunity, but Iâllââ He cuts himself off with a huge yawn, not even bothering to cover his mouth. ââIâll know it when I see it.â
The motion catches your attention and you shift closer to get a better look at him. He doesnât even flinch, apparently unphased by your willingness to invade his personal space.Â
âWhoa, youâre not gonna kiss me, are you?â Gojo looks down at your lips, mirroring your stance and leaning in. âI mean I wouldnât mind butâŠâ
You ignore him, too focused on studying his expression. Up close itâs obvious heâs running on empty. His dark circles have nothing on Nanamiâs, but itâs the first time youâve seen a blemish on his usually perfect complexion. Your first instinct is to tease him for it, maybe feel a little smug knowing that youâre not the only one whoâs having trouble keeping up, but the urge fades before you can act on it. Your second instinct, the one that sticks, is to feel concerned for him. After all, heâd been working late when heâd caught you in Nanamiâs office. At the time you hadnât thought to press him on it, content to accept his excuse that he had some paperwork to finish, but nowâŠÂ
âYou havenât been taking overtime, have you?âÂ
He smiles, the tip of his index finger catching the underside of your chin to tilt your face towards him.
âWhy do you want to know?â he asks, his voice falling to a low murmur. âThinking of staying late with me?â
âAs if.â You bat his hand away, taking a step back. âIâm not an idiot, you know. I can see youâre just trying to distract me.â
âI am. Canât help it. Youâre so fun to tease.â
Maybe itâs stress, or maybe itâs that youâve already maxed out your Gojo tolerance for today, but either way his Cheshire cat smile irritates you even more than usual and you decide to remove yourself from the situation before you lose your temper.
âI should get back to work.â
Snatching up the two coffees, you turn away before he has time to respond, mentally kicking yourself for letting him get under your skin again. Youâd really thought you were making progress. Though youâve calmed down by the time Utahime intercepts you in the hallway, her presence is still a welcome distraction.Â
âHey,â she says, falling into step beside you. âGlad I ran into you.â
You slow to a stop, in no hurry to get back to your desk despite what youâd just told Gojo. âWhatâs up? Everything okay?âÂ
âOh yeah, itâs nothing bad. Me and Shoko were going to get a few people together and grab drinks next Friday. Nothing too crazy. Would you be up for coming too?â
You brighten up. âYeah, that sounds like a great idea.â
She starts to reply, but her expression turns stormy. You jump when an arm drapes across your shoulders, nearly spilling your drinks as you register the newly familiar scent of Gojoâs cologne.
âDoes this invitation extend to me as well?â he asks, giving Utahime an innocent smile. She looks annoyed at the display of affection, momentarily stunned before finding her voice again.Â
âLike hell it does. What do you think youâre doing? Get away from her!â
Bless Utahime, sheâs never one to miss an opportunity to tell Gojo off. Logically you know you should be embarrassed right now. In a few secondsâ time you probably will be, but for the moment the only thing you can think of is how nice he smells.Â
âWhat?â he asks, and even though you canât see his face, you can all but l hear the pout in his voice. âI canât even put my arm around my girlfriend without you snapping at me? Sounds like somebodyâs jealous.â
âŠAnd then the embarrassment hits. What does he think heâs doing, pulling a stunt like this? Heâd said he was waiting for an opportunity to start a rumor but you had no idea it would be so soon. Or so obnoxious.Â
Your face burns, voice dropping to a harsh whisper. âCan you go five minutes without causing a scene?â
âNah. You know me better than that.â
You try to shoot him a glare, turning your head to get a better look at him. Bad move, heâs way closer than youâd thought. Your lips graze his cheekbone and you recoil as though youâve been burned, nearly dropping the mugs youâre still holding.Â
Gojoâs hands dart forwards, catching your forearms as he all but embraces you from behind. âWhoa, take it easy. Talk about causing a scene.â
Honestly, youâre more worried about Utahime causing a scene than anyone elseâ she looks ready to attack him. Gojo must sense the impending danger because heâs quick to end the conversation now that the seeds of your rumor have been sown. You feel him tap your wrist, drawing you back into the present.Â
âThis oneâs for Yuuji, right?âÂ
Without waiting for a reply, he pries the cup from your unresisting fingers. âIâll make sure to get it to him.â
You breathe a sigh of relief as he begins to withdraw, though the feeling is short-lived. Before he lets you go he pauses, tugging you closer so that he can press his lips against your cheek in a needlessly theatrical kiss.Â
âMwah! Iâll see you later, okay?â
He releases you before you have the chance to squirm away from him, giving Utahime a self-satisfied smile before disappearing into the officeâs main room. Bringing your hand up to your cheek, you touch the spot where heâd kissed you as you try to process what just happened.Â
âI am so so sorry about that,â you say, shifting to shield your eyes. âHeâs⊠Iâm going to have to talk to him about boundaries.â
Utahimeâs mouth drops open. âWait, he was being serious? Youâre dating Gojo?â
âShh!â Scanning the area, you try to gauge if anyoneâs in earshot. Once youâre confident that your answer will be private, you give her a quick, humiliating nod, unable to conjure up any words to accompany it.
Thankfully she takes the hint and drops her voice to a whisper. âThis isnât coercive, right? Has he been harassing you?â
No more than usual, you think, though you decide to keep that particular quip to yourself. Instead you shake your head and try to reassure her.Â
âItâs not like that, I promise.â
âBut you donât even like him!â
âThatâs true,â you admit. âI donât like him.â
âThen why are youâ? Wait, this isnât an âI can fix himâ situation, right?â
You canât help but smile at that. âEven if I wanted to, I donât think thatâs possible.â
Maybe openly disparaging Gojo isnât the best way to convince people that you really are dating him, but at least it comes naturally. Still, youâre going to need to do some legwork if you want this rumor to get off the ground.
âBut yeah, weâre, umâŠâ The words seem to stick to your tongue and you clear your throat, forcing them out. â...weâre dating now. It just kind of happened. Please donât mention it to anyone.â
Utahime is silent for a long moment as she studies your expression.Â
âI can see why youâd want to keep it quiet,â she says at last, sounding weary. âYour taste in men is terrible, but better you than me I guess. Just let me know if you need me to kill him. I can make it look like an accident.â
âAlright. If he breaks my heart, you can kill him.â
âOh, heartbreak has nothing to do with it,â she says, waving the comment away. âThis is strictly for love of the game.â
That gets a laugh out of you, and the last of your embarrassment at Gojoâs antics finally dissipates. âThank you Utahime. Iâll keep that in mind. And I would like to go out next Friday, if your offer is still on the table.â
âIt is, but donât bring your boyfriend.â
Gojo says that itâll take about a week for your rumor to circulate, but after seeing how quickly the one about Shoko and Utahime had spread, youâre pretty sure heâs overestimating. If you had to hazard a guess, youâd say heâs waiting for his presentation to finish up before causing any more drama. Itâs the most serious youâve ever seen him about his work, though thatâs not saying much given his usual laissez-faire attitude.Â
In all honesty, youâre grateful for the delay because with the state Nanamiâs in, now does not feel like a good time to amp up any mind games. The poor man looks beyond the point of exhaustion, steadily growing more stressed until you quietly decide to add him to your break room coffee runs alongside Itadori. Though you donât get the chance to see either Gojo or Nanami on the day of their presentation, youâre pretty sure both are slated to come to Utahimeâs get-together later that evening.
Itâs already dark by the time you leave the office building, a cloudless sky sharpening the cold night air. Most of the other attendees are already there when you arrive, crowded around a large table near the back of the izakaya and chatting over mixed drinks or the occasional craft beer. Utahimeâs definition of âa few peopleâ is clearly very different from your own, though notably Gojo is absent from the scene. You feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of him truly not being invited, but it doesnât last long. Heâd show up anyway if he really wanted to be here.
Much to your relief, the only open seat is directly next to Nanami, whom you join at the table after a quick detour to pick up a Shirley Temple. Heâs still in his work clothes, which are a little more formal than usualâ or, more accurately, had been more formal. His dark jacket has already been discarded, folded neatly over the back of his chair, and the sleeves of his pale dress shirt are cuffed at his elbows.Â
He glances over as you sit down, nodding at your drink. âNo sake tonight?â
Itâs hard to mask your surprise. Heâs never mentioned your previous outing before, but itâs good to know it wasnât a fever dream.
Smiling, you shake your head. âNo sake tonight.âÂ
âShame,â he says, loosening his tie. âThereâs karaoke here. I was hoping youâd grace us with another performance.âÂ
You send a glare his way and are rewarded with an exhale of amusement. Nanami is, of course, referring to your infamous rendition of Natasha Bedingfieldâs âUnwrittenâ at last yearâs holiday partyâ coincidentally the same night that Gojo had spotted your garters. Most of the time you can resist the siren song of karaoke, but after a few too many festively themed cocktails, it had suddenly seemed like a great idea to join in. The next morning youâd woken up with the actual worst hangover of your life and a sinking feeling that you mightâve made the wrong call by deciding to participate. Drinking has been much less appealing ever since.
âDonât get your hopes up,â you say, using your straw to chase a maraschino cherry around the bottom of your glass. âThat was both the beginning and end of my musical career.â
He nods, his expression somber. âIâm honored to have witnessed it.â
You donât respond right away and Nanami must sense that youâre embarrassed because he adds:Â
âIâm serious about that, at least to some extent. It was nice seeing you enjoying yourself. I donât usuallyâŠâ
The words fade and you look over, curious as to the sudden change in tone. His gaze is on the glass in his hand, the tendons of his wrist flexing as he swirls his drink.
âYou donât usuallyâŠ?â you prompt, trying not to stare at his forearms.
He grimaces, still not meeting your eyes. âI donât usually get to see you happy.â
You blink, trying to process what heâs just said, searching his face for some sort of tell. Something you can point to as evidence that heâs still joking.Â
Nothing. Just soft eyes and sharp angles. For the first time you notice the slight flush along his delicate cheekbones.Â
âHow many of those have you had?â you ask, eyeing his drink with suspicion.
He doesnât reply, just holds up three fingers. Sighing, you nudge him with your elbow.
âDonât overdo it, okay?â
âI wonât.â
Finally you manage to stab your maraschino cherry, triumphantly eating it off of the end of your straw. He looks over, giving you a faint, fleeting smile that warms you, and thatâs the problem, isnât it? Even if you feel something for Nanami and even if Gojo insists that those feelings are reciprocated, itâs hard to believe that there could ever be something between you when a single smile is enough to make your pulse speed up. Your friendship with him is built on quiet moments like this, moments where you feel safe and content just being in his company. Itâs an intimacy that usually takes time to reach and is what makes your feelings so difficult to act on. Comfort and consistency are fine once youâve established a mutual attraction, but right now thereâs nothing you can cite to prove this isnât one sided.Â
Nanami smiles at you. Sends the occasional dry joke your way. Checks on you when he can tell somethingâs wrong. Within the context of your friendship those are all so important, but what if you take a step back? What if you compare your dynamic to other people? Smiles, jokes, and concerns are things that they give freelyâ the proof is all around you, not just in your coworkers, but the rest of the barâs patrons as well.Â
âYouâre quiet tonight,â Nanami says, rousing you from your thoughts. âIs everything okay?â
Thereâs that question again, the same one that heâd asked last week in the elevator. Heâd seemed content enough to believe you then, but now thereâs something cagey in his expression which youâre almost certain means heâs heard the gossip about you and Gojo. The thought sends a spike of anxiety through you, and then you feel stupid for being anxious because that was the whole point of starting a rumor.
âIâm fine,â you say. âWhy do you ask?â
âJust checking in, I guess.â
He punctuates the sentence by finishing off his drink, setting it down with enough force to tell you that his motor skills arenât quite firing on all cylinders.Â
âSeems like itâs probably time to switch to water,â you say, eager to change the subject.
âProbably.â He pauses, eyeing your empty glass. âThough I could say the same for you. From what Iâve heard, this place makes a strong Shirley Temple.â
You laugh, happy to be joking with him again, and some of the tension dissipates. Pushing your chair back from the overcrowded table, you grab both cups and leave Nanami with the promise that youâll be right back. He nods, looking a little forlorn at the prospect of being abandoned, but Ino shifts over to your now empty chair and redirects his attention with a flurry of work related questions.Â
Poor Nanami, you think as you turn away. You doubt he has any desire to talk about work right now, which is the very reason you hadnât asked about the presentation.
Though it only takes you a few moments to grab the water, the last seat has been filled by the time you get back. It seems as though your coworkers have been playing musical chairs in your absenceâ youâd already seen Ino take your spot but a few others have moved around too. A flash of white hair catches your attention and you stiffen in surprise. It seems Gojo was invited after all, and with him in attendance the final seat is filled, leaving you standing with a glass of water in either hand as you try to figure out what to do next.
As soon as he spots you, Gojo waves you over, waiting until he wonât have to yell to be heard.Â
âYou should come sit with me once youâve dropped that off,â he says quietly, motioning to one of the drinks in your hand.
âSit where? You took the last seat.â
âOkay, andâŠ? I said sit with me, not next to me.â He pauses, waiting for you to catch on, and realizes he needs to clarify when he registers your look of confusion. âOn my lap.â
Your eyes widen and you instinctively take a step back. âWhat? But I canâtââ
âKeep it down,â he hisses, looking around. Thankfully no one else seems to be paying attention. âIâm not saying you have to do it, but you wanted me to come up with a way to confirm weâre dating, right?â
âI thought you said you wanted to be caught in a compromising position!â you say, dropping your voice to match his.Â
âWell if you want something less public Iâm sure we could still sneak off andââ
You cut him off before he can finish. âOh youâd like that, wouldn't you?âÂ
Looking down at the drinks in your hands, you try to think this through. If youâre being completely honest with yourself, you know youâre going to say yes for the same reason youâve agreed to all his other suggestions: youâre having fun, more fun than youâve had in a long time. What you want right now (and what youâve always wanted) is to sit with a friend and talk about things that arenât important and laugh about things that arenât funny, because when youâre friends with someone, really friends with someone, those details donât matter. Youâre not there yet with Gojo - in fact, you're still not sure you even like him - but if you play your cards right, you have a feeling that someday you could be.
âFine,â you say at last, handing him a glass of water. âDonât drink this. Iâll be right back.â
Hey guys im still alive I promise. Iâll be back to writing soon but I just got married last week and then moved across the country so you could say things have been a little busy đ€
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