fuck buddies don't act like this (Gojo x Reader)

Chapter 79

One-hundred and eighty-two days since the collapse of the sorcerer world and one-hundred and eighty-two days of waiting for the right moment to strike has finally paid off.

"Oh, my, my, my. Oh, my, my, my." Humming along to the words of a song stuck in your head, continuing to fold your t-shirts into the very spacious draws that Gojo got for you.

Not even mentioning your own walk-in wardrobe that you're currently residing in.

It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since admitting to the fact that you want to live with Gojo and yet here you are alone in his – your - house doing just that. Before Gojo got called away for work he wanted to just be done and away with your previous home, simply not understanding how that's not feasible for you. The difference in class and money have never been crystal clear until now seeing how he was desperate to buy you a whole new wardrobe and any other miscellaneous crap that you've left behind.

Luckily, in the last two years you've grown a backbone with dealing with men like Gojo Satoru, and your firmness left you here in the present. Kneeled before a chest of draws as you fold away the last of your clothes. This is his compromise towards his outlandish ideas on getting rid of everything and starting anew if you only took the essentials. You had lied however about knowing what the essentials were in your house when being an artist everything becomes useful and essential for a creation.

But your firm no told him everything that he needed to know and start to understand about what this relationship will entail starting from now. You're past the honeymoon stage and the kind of love that you want is the kind that will be nurtured through trust and communication. Compromise might play some role in the upbringing of yours and Gojo's life together but from here on out you're only going to accept honest communication... about certain things.

You've been through too much to settle for less.

And sometimes a necessary lie is all you need to have when trying to sneakily store away your dried acrylic paints and scrap pieces of paper in your worn suitcase. Hidden just out of sight and beneath your hanging dresses and trousers.

Falling back onto your heels to admire the last three hours of work when an eerie creak on the landing shocks you out of your little world. Glancing over your shoulder, finding only the corner of your white fitted sheets and the wide-open lens of the skyline depicting daytime Tokyo. Relieving a breath that you didn't realise you were holding, turning your attention back to the task at hand.

Where the fuck to store your socks?

And why do you have so many odd ones?

Gathering the matchless socks that seem to have lived past their life expectancy and that they can go no further but become threadbare sandals. Getting up and pivoting on your heel all the while holding them all close to your chest when another creak scrapes just outside the doorway. Halting mid-step a few socks slip between the gaps and pitter-patter around your feet. The pounding in your ears picks up pace as a shiver recoil over your body. Watching the hairs on your arms stand on end. Yet when you go to the door and look out you find nothing out the ordinary.

Just a dark empty landing.

Except for the door opposite to the master bedroom shudders against the doorframe as if there's a draft. Which is odd when the weather report warned for blistering hot days ahead with minimal winds especially in this part of Tokyo. It can't be anything, but the mind does like to wonder, and you can't forget Gojo's job description and the very thing that made Morgan so scared of going outside for a week.