Satoru Gojo · Y/n story by @ameisite

The bass thrums through the floorboards of Shoko’s apartment, a steady, invasive beat that vibrates up through the soles of your shoes. The air is thick with the smell of cheap beer and expensive perfume, crowded with bodies and loud, overlapping conversations.

Satoru Gojo

He takes a slow sip from his cup, his head tilting just slightly in your direction. Having fun?

His voice is a low murmur, barely audible over the music, but it cuts through the noise straight to you. He’s not looking at you, not directly. His attention is fixed just past your shoulder, where Toji Fushiguro is laughing at something someone said, his hand briefly resting on the small of your back.