#i love all my mutuals followers and friends
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gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]
in holy matriphony ch2. you may now kiss the bride!!
ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, n have been taking care of your sick mom ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.
ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, mild love triangle(s), gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity; btw gojo in this fic is in his early 30s n reader is in her late 20s
ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!
ᰔ chapter. 2/x (probably 10)
ᰔ words. 16.8k (i be yappin)
a/n. AHHH thanks very much for 2k followers!! yippeee :”) i had a lot of fun writing this chapter of ihm i feel like there’s a lot of silly but a lot of angsty too and i got to set up a lot of secondary plot lines in this chapter which was fun. i really hope you enjoy!! see ya at the bottom!!
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 (pending)
“Can you chop down that stupid avocado tree of yours already? It keeps dropping its devilish spawn all over my herb garden.”
“Wow. Good afternoon to you too.”
Gojo scratches the back of his head from where he’s opened the front door of his house, standing in his pajamas and you briefly glance down at his bunny slippers before looking back up at him with a ridiculing face before pushing past him into his house.
Gojo’s house is almost the exact mirror of yours, as are most houses in the neighborhood, but it’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it and so you take an indulgent look. A cozy family room to the side, which you see he’s decorated with a coffee table and a loveseat, and the staircase is visible from the entrance. A modest dining table sits where the carpet turns into wood, and you’ve noticed he’s made the effort to place real hardwood on his floors contrary to the laminate in yours. Ok, show off. Your eyes take in the paintings on the wall, and you remember how his house almost looks fake, like in the way he sets up props in open houses he’s showing for clients, as if someone lives here and yet somehow there’s no real living proof of it.
And because it’s pretty much the exact same layout as your house, you know exactly where the pantry room is, and you grab a bunch of Doritos and Pocky from his secret snack drawer.
“Oh yes, go right ahead. Please,” he says sarcastically as he leans against a support pillar near the dining room and watches you stuff your face with his snacks.
“So,” you say, muffled, “did you grab the paperwork?”
“No, I didn’t.” He glances at his watch. “My friend’s a family law lawyer, and he’s gonna be here soon to help us out with the prenup.”
You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’re being serious about the prenup? You really think I’m trying to gold dig at the cobwebs of your bank account? How little self respect do you think I have?”
“...do you really want me to answer that questi–”
The doorbell ringing startles you, and you quickly wipe at your face to clear any crumbs before setting the wrappers in your hands onto a bookshelf as you watch Gojo head to the door and open it.
You hear another distinct masculine voice ring in the air as Gojo exchanges pleasantries with him in the form of a handshake and a familiar hug with a few pats on the back, and then the angle Gojo twists his body reveals the man standing outside the door. He’s a bit shorter than Gojo with a lean build, clad in a fiercely formal black suit and tie with polished shoes. His hair is well-kept, short and raven black, and his eyes are sunken with what you can only imagine is fatigue. And it’s kinda hot to you, unfortunately, after years of working the night shift, you’re starting to find dark circles under people’s eyes to be extremely attractive.
“Uh, y/n, this is my friend, Higurama. Hiromi Higurama,” Gojo says, gesturing between the two of you, “and Hiromi, this is y/n. My obnoxious neighbor. Careful though, if you get too close she’ll bite off your fingers.”
“I’ll bite off a different appendage of yours if you don’t shut the fuck up,” you snarl at him, and Higurama takes a step inside the house to greet you with an outstretched hand.
“Hi, it’s lovely to meet you,” he says, and you’re a little startled by the politeness, but aptly shake his hand and nod before squawking out a likewise!!
You look past Higurama at Gojo who’s got an eyebrow raised at you, and then your eyes are on Higurama again as you watch him set his briefcase down on the dining table. “Are we ready to discuss?” he asks, brown eyes darting between the two of you. You nod and take a seat across from him, and Gojo first grabs everyone some glasses of water before he takes a seat at the head.
“So,” Higurama starts, “I take it you two are madly in love and would like to enter a marital agreement to declare your affections for one another in the court of law under just circumstances?”
You blink at him. “Y-Yes. Very just circumstances. Nothing shady going on here, we are indeed very madly in love and would like to get married.”
“Why the fuck would you say it like that?” Gojo chirps in but not before sighing.
“T-The way he asked was really nerve wracking!!” you counter. And then your eyes widen when you look at Higurama again, who has a slightly amused tug to his lips. “...oh, you already know this marriage is a fraud.”
“I was just testing you,” he casually says, “in case they mention any suspicions in court. Seems you should just let Satoru do the talking.”
You pout a little and sink further into your seat, then bring the glass of water up to your lips.
“Well, in any case,” Higurama says, and then he goes on into the details of what to expect in the courtroom. He pulls out paperwork for the marriage license application and starts to walk the two of you through the prenuptial agreement.
“It’s my understanding you’re both desiring a prenup for this marriage?” Hugurama asks, brow furrowed slightly as he rustles through the endless papers in front of him that he was drowning in.
You briefly glance at Gojo, who’s also looking through all the papers with a concentrated look on his face, his features tense and he’s slightly worrying his bottom lip through his teeth. He’s thinking way harder about this whole prenup thing than you would, and you realize he’s genuinely taking this very seriously.
“Um, yes,” you acquiesce, suddenly feeling a little guilty. And you remember who’s the one in need of the favor here. “I’m okay with the prenup.”
Higurama tells you two about the implications of the prenup, what can and cannot be included under state laws, and stresses the importance of full financial disclosure and fairness in the agreement to ensure its enforceability in the event of a divorce. Basically, don’t fucking lie about anything or else you two could sue each other to hell for it should divorce occur. You both agree, and you’re feeling sick to your stomach with anticipation.
“Alright,” Higurama interjects your thoughts, “I will begin to draft the document then. Let’s start with assets.”
Gojo drones on about his tangibles, intangibles, cash equivalents, stocks, yada yada and you open up with yours too, but you can barely hear anything you’re saying and you can hardly hear what anyone else is saying either because you’re just dreadfully awaiting for Higurama to finally bring up—
“How about debts?” he asks, mindlessly as he types away on his laptop, as if the question doesn’t make you want to throw up.
Your breathing picks up in speed, and you’re nervously fidgeting your hands over the surface of the table. You glance over at Gojo again, this time startled to find his eyes are on you too. His gaze briefly flickers to the shuffling of your fingers, then it meets yours again as he tilts his head slightly in a silent ask of you good?
“Uh–” you start, when you feel Higurama’s eyes on you too now that the silence has stretched on for too long, “I’m…well, I’m in a bit of…debt. From nursing school, a little bit from undergrad still, actually…”
“Okay,” Higurama says, “how much would you approximate? I’ll need the official loan statements soon, though.”
“Well, I’m paying off slowly…but last month I have around seventy-thousand still to pay off.”
“Alright,” Higurama accepts, “and you, Satoru? Student loans?”
“Oh, I don’t have any,” he says, “I paid them off a while ago.”
You feel like you’re being opened apart at the seams, and suddenly feel ashamed.
“Alright, what about other debts? Credit card debts? Any loans to know about?”
You figured you just needed to rip the bandaid off.
“Um,” you say, “I’m about three hundred thousand dollars in medical debt from my mother’s treatment loans.”
The room goes quiet, there’s no more rustling of papers or the mechanical jumping of keys on a keyboard, hell, even the birds outside stopped chirping to display their disbelief.
“Wha–” Gojo starts, like he can’t help it, before he catches himself out of politeness, but he’s still looking at you with concern and shock. “y/n…what happened?”
You look over at Higurama too, and he’s completely turned away from the document he was drafting on his laptop, full attention on you, and his brow is creased with the same amount of concern. And you feel like you’re in therapy. You also feel like you’re about to cry.
“Well…it’s just,” you start, throat feeling raw, “my mom couldn’t qualify for medical loans because of years of poor credit, and insufficient income, and her cancer treatments became really costly, and so–” you suck a breath in, because your voice cracks slightly at the end. You were not about to cry in front of them right now. “And so I decided to cosign on her loans so she could receive treatment, and stuff kept coming up, and I had to work reduced hours for a couple of years when she was first diagnosed, and…some payments got away from me, and so then…there was interest, and…it’s…I guess over five years, things just…accumulated.”
They both sit there in stunned silence, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, like they understand your situation is so fucked in its entirety that they can barely even bear to put themselves through the trouble of even imagining themselves in your shoes, let alone fathom that you’re living in them.
Higurama clears his throat and redirects his attention to the computer. “That’s… no problem for the prenup. Thank you for being honest.”
“Hey,” Gojo interjects, and his hand reaches out to lay over your fidgeting hands over the table. His eyes are serious. “Why didn’t you–” he starts, and his face softens slightly when you can’t help the small sheen of tears that reaches your eyes, “...why didn’t you say anything about this? I mean, anytime we’ve talked.”
It’s your turn to look at him with a tense expression, and you slowly withdraw your hands from the hold of his palm to place them in your lap under the table. “Uh, why would I share about my financial woes to my neighbor? Don’t most people just act like shit’s normal with their neighbors?”
“I guess, but I didn’t know it was that ba–”
Higurama’s phone starts to ring, and he glances at the Caller ID before sighing slightly. “Sorry, I have another client I need to see soon. We’ll have to wrap this up, but I’ll continue drafting this document. Please send me your relevant statements for any loans and–” he glances at you, “...associated debts.” He starts to gather his things at the table, then neatly tucks his papers into his briefcase before placing his laptop in there too. He reaches to shake Gojo’s hand first, then shakes yours, and holds onto your hand a second longer to gather your attention. His eyes are almost solemn.
“I truly hope your mother gets better soon,” he says to you, tone contrite.
You slowly nod and thank him, and then Gojo goes to see him out the door.
The house feels quiet when Gojo closes the front entrance, and he stays facing the door for a few seconds before slowly turning around to face you, back leaning against it as he crosses his arms in front of his chest, and just when he opens his mouth to speak, you cut him off.
“I really–” you say, “...I really don’t want to talk about it.”
His face contorts into confusion, and it looks like he’s about to protest, but you allow yourself to show the slightest amount of the hurt and the worry on your face, and he realizes that means he shouldn’t try to push it.
“Okay,” he says, and quietly.
Things are awkward in the air for a second, so you waltz over to the window and watch through it as Higurama gets into his car, some type of sleek old black Mercedes Benz but it’s polished to perfection, and you let out a content sigh.
“What?” Gojo asks you, tone a little short.
“Ohhh, nothing,” you say, bringing your hands up to cup your cheeks to feel their warmth as you take in the image of Higurama’s slender legs in his business attire, “I just…” you sigh again, “I just loooove men in suits. I wish I knew more men that wore them often.”
A beat of silence. “Um. I wear them often?”
You turn on your heel to face him. “Yeah, but you wear them in, like, a slutty way. Higurama,” you say, pointing with your thumb facing the window, “wears them in the actually respectable workplace way. Hence why it’s hotter on him.”
He scoffs. “And yet you’re always staring at my ass from afar when I’m wearing my tailored trousers.”
“I seriously wonder what it’s like to be so fucking delusional all the time,” you shake your head at him and he looks like he’s got a comeback on his tongue but you sshhhhhhhh him and walk back into the heart of the house. You look over your shoulder briefly, and see Gojo’s standing where you were standing at the window a few seconds ago, looking out onto the street, and he’s grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite hear. And then you hear the sound of Higurama’s car driving away.
You circle around the dining table, and take a seat to look through the marriage paperwork Higurama left behind for the two of you to fill out.
“Bring the paperwork over to the kitchen island,” you hear Gojo say as he makes his way to the kitchen, “I’ll fix us some coffee.”
The island has a seated side to it with bar stools that raise high and turn in fully 360 degree fashion, so you swirl around in your seat to make yourself dizzy while Gojo brews some coffee with his espresso machine.
“Mm…smells nice,” you comment, still swirling.
“Milk? Sugar?” he asks you, and you stop swirling to answer him.
It’s not the first time you’ve been to Gojo’s house. When he first moved in next door, you brought him a plate of cookies as a welcome to the neighborhood! gift and he had invited you inside and fixed you a cup of coffee then too. The house was mostly empty back then, he’s made a lot of good work in filling it with furniture in that sort of IKEA catalog fashion, and you can clown on him for it all you want, but it still looks nicer than most homes you’ve been in. Anyways, you only visited him in his house a couple times after that before you realized you hated him. Because he blasts loud music at the most random times, which you’re convinced he’s just trying to show off the sound system he probably spent an unnecessary amount of money on, not to mention an unnecessary amount of time installing. He also always forgets to mow his fucking lawn, and it drives you nuts because then the weeds spread over into your lawn, but it’s not like it matters because you hardly mow yours either, but still. And that fucking boat. That fucking boat he keeps right at the edge of your driveway that taunts you and your ability to pull into garages after every single one of your dreadful night shifts. One of these days, you might just steal it and drive it into the ocean so it drowns. Wait, boats don’t drown. That’s the point of boats. They’re buoyant. It’s okay, you’ll find another way to get rid of it. The boat, you mean.
“Here you go,” he says, sliding a cup of coffee to you across the island. You peer inside at the brown liquid, and the scent alone awakens your senses.
“So, logistics,” you say.
“Logistics,” he repeats after you as he stirs a spoon in his mug.
“We need to make this believable,” you say to him, “otherwise the marriage could be invalidated, and we could face criminal charges, and I could lose the insurance benefits for my mom, and potentially get sued by said insurance companies, and get thrown into jail for life, and—”
“And how much sleep have you lost thinking about this?” he asks you with a sigh as he brings his mug up to take a sip.
“I’m being serious, Satoru,” you say to him, “I…would just rather err on the side of caution. It’s a small town, people talk. And sometimes those people know the law.” You shudder.
“Who the fuck is out there that would be so pissed about us getting married just so you can help out your sick mom?” he asks.
Your eyes flicker downwards slightly in consideration. You can think of one person, at least. And when you look up at him, you’re surprised to see there’s a similar look on his face, as if he could think of a particular one person too. But before you can dwell more on the expression on his face, he grabs the paperwork in front of you and looks through some of it. “You should get started on your paperwork. Higurama filled most of mine out for me already, so you’re the one he’s waiting on.”
You groan and stretch your arm out across the island counter, then lay your head on your upper arm. “Sigh, why couldn’t he have done that for meee tooooo.”
“Probably because he doesn’t know you?” Gojo snorts. He’s silent for a moment as he takes another sip. You can’t see his face. “So,” he starts, “I mean. If we’re going to make this believable, which, to be honest, I don’t think a single person in this neighborhood would find us getting married believable, but still, if we were to try making it believable, wouldn’t it make sense for us to, uh, I don’t know, live together? Like what regular married couples do.”
“I am appalled you would even suggest that.”
“It’s going to look like we’re just faking it if we don’t at least cohabitate together,” he tells you.
“We can’t do that,” you sigh, “I bet you’d try to touch me inappropriately.”
“What???”
“Yeahhh, I don’t know, you just—...you just seem like a guy with very little self control.”
“...y’know what? This is over. I’m calling off this engagement,” he says, and he walks over to the dining table with his coffee cup in hand and you lift your head up off your arm in a panic.
“Wha–...no!! Wait!!” you say, grabbing all the paperwork off the island and bringing it to the dining table where he’s taken a seat. “Please marry me. I need it so bad.”
“Woah,” he says, looking up at you, and there’s a darker glint to his eyes. “You need it so bad? Can you say that again?”
You curl up the papers in your hands into a makeshift hollow pole and whack him across the head with it. “This is exactly why I think you would touch me inappropriately.”
He grumbles slightly as he nurses the spot you whacked him with two of his fingers rubbing the area, and then he fixes his hair with a comb of his hand through it. The sleeve of his shirt drops a little from the movement, and you can see the muscles of his arm flex, then your eyes are quickly darting away so he doesn’t catch the line of your gaze on him. What the fuck. That was weird. You blame ovulation.
“Alright, fine,” he says, and he grabs the papers out of your hand, “also don’t bend these. It bothers me.”
You circle back to the kitchen to grab your abandoned coffee cup, and then bring it to the dining table to sit down with him at it. He places your half of the papers in front of you. You glance down at the first few boxes to fill out, and you already feel like giving up.
You glance up at him for a distraction. “Aren’t you going to ask me how long I want you to be married to me for?” you ask him.
“Uh, how long do you want me to be married to you for?”
“Forever,” you say. To scare him.
“Yeah, right.” He waves his hand in the air dismissively.
You sulk because it didn’t scare him. “Six months.”
“More plausible.”
“Really,” you say earnestly, “six months.”
He looks up at you now, a curious expression on his face. “Why specifically six months?”
Your eyes find the color of your coffee fascinating once again. “I don’t want to put my mother in hospice for too long. I’ll miss her,” you say, “it’s just…something I’m trying out for now. And to just get a bit of a caretaking break, and also so I can pick up more shifts at the hospital to work on paying off my debt. It’s just…temporary.”
His shoulders roll back once and he sits up a little straighter, holding up one of the pieces of paper to study it better while he clicks his pen. “Alright. Whatever works for you.”
You twiddle with your hands again, blinking a little in consideration as a few moments pass by. “Uh…about living together. That’s fine. I suppose.”
His eyes widen slightly. “Really?”
“Yeah. But no touching,” you point at him with a strict finger.
He tilts his head back up to the ceiling in annoyance. There’s a roll in the muscles of his throat as his jaw goes slack. You squirm in your chair a little. Ovulation, you think.
“I’m not going to touch you, y/n,” he assures you when his chin tips back down. You just stare at him for a few seconds as he seems to be in thought about something, and then his eyes meet yours. “Whose house are we going to live in?”
“Mine,” you say, “yours looks like a shitty catalog. It’s lame.”
“True,” he says, “yours feels homey. I like that.”
You’re a little taken aback by his words, and then purse your lips together. Your sort of go-to thanks expression reserved for him. “So, are you gonna sell your house then?”
“Huh? No way,” he shakes his head, “I’ll just see if I can rent it out for now.” He shakes his head even more. “I mean, god no, I wouldn’t be caught dead selling a house. Not with these market conditions. You know how much it’s already risen in equity within just the past few months alone? In five years from now—”
While Gojo continues to drone on about the lunacy of not holding onto property in this housing market, your eyes widen slightly at his words, like your body realizes a truth to what he’s saying before your mind does.
And then that’s when it hits you.
How you can help pull yourself out of debt.
You slam your coffee mug down on the table with a little more fierceness than you probably should’ve.
“Hey,” he scolds you, “can you be careful with that?”
“We’re not going to live in my house,” you say, ignoring him, “we’re gonna live in yours.”
“Huh?” he responds, “...but I thought you said mine looks like a catalog.”
“A shitty catalog.”
“Did you need to specify?”
“We’re not going to live in my house,” you tell him, with resolve, “because I’m gonna sell my house.”
He sits up a little straighter at your words. “Like, the house next door?”
“Mhm,” you nod.
He sighs. “Were you even listening to me? It’s so much more worth it to–”
“I don’t care,” you cut him off, “I need the money now. Not five years from now.” Your eyes glance down at your hands, and your tone becomes quiet. “I…I don’t even know if my mom has five years left to live.”
A silence settles in the room, and you see in your periphery that Gojo’s stiff and still, like he’s barely allowing himself to breathe as if you’d find it abrasive, and when you look over at him, his expression is soft.
“I know,” he says. “It sounds like a plan.”
“Will you help me sell it?” you ask him. “I’d…need a realtor.”
“Sure,” he easily agrees.
“Okay…” you say, and take a sip of lukewarm coffee, as if you haven’t just decided on an extremely major life decision. “Um. I’ll go get the paperwork then. From my house.”
“Oh. Right now?” he asks you, and he leans forward in his seat a little to get a closer look at your face. “I mean, don’t you want some time to think about it before putting it on the market? We can wait for a little bit.”
“No. That’s okay,” you say, standing up from your chair, “I’ll…go get the paperwork.”
He nods at you slowly, but his eyes are observant, and you ignore it to keep up the momentum of this decision that was definitely the right decision by all means and one that you should not be hesitating on at all as it is such an epiphany that can help clear your debilitating financial burdens.
“Drive safe,” he says to you when you grab your purse off the coffee table in the family room.
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
The outside air is breezy, it’s a nice day with the sun shining down and sparkling off of sprinkler dew drops on overgrown grass, and you hop across with a pep in your step as you make it to your house next door. You’re always quiet when opening the door, because you never know when your mom is sleeping or not, and since her bedroom is downstairs, she’s privy to noises. Once you’re inside, you check to make sure she’s sleeping with a small creak open of her door, only to find that she’s sitting on her rocking chair and looking through a box of paintings.
Your heart twists at the sight, and you gently knock the door with your knuckles.
She glances up at you, and you can always tell from just the look in her eyes if she recognizes you or not. Because they’re warm and gentle when she does, but they see right past you to the wall when she doesn’t.
“Hello,” she says, “can I help you?”
You come up to her and kneel down beside her, placing a hand up on the rocking chair arm rest while she looks down at you.
“Hi, mom. It’s me. Your daughter,” you gentle reintroduce yourself. It’s what her neurologist suggested you do anytime she can’t remember you, but it rips away a piece of your soul each time.
Her eyes still see past you, abstract, empty with no feeling as she wraps her head around your words. “I am no one’s mother,” she tells you, tone sounding sharp and like she’s a moment away from terror.
“That’s okay,” you quickly remediate, feeling hollow inside from her words but you always had to be the sane one, so you direct her attention to the box in her lap. “What are you looking at?”
“Oh, I just found these paintings!” she exclaims. “I thought they were wonderful. Do you know who drew them?”
You smile up at her. “You did.”
“Me?” she blinks at you. The wrinkles in her forehead crumple with surprise, “oh, no, dear, I could not paint such things with detail. Look at me!” She holds her hand up. “My hand is trembling!”
She’s getting weaker. You make a mental note to bring it up to her doctor.
“You used to hold a paint brush like it was just an extension of your hand,” you tell her, picking up one of the paintings out of the box, “you were an art teacher, mom.”
“Don’t call me mom,” she says to you, that sharp tone from earlier cutting through to your soul. “I am no one’s mother.” Her eyes shimmer with a light sheen of tears.
You stare at her, brow pinching together with hurt, but you bite back the part of you that wants to beg her to remember you, to take one close look at you, and see you with warmth and not emptiness. But she sees past you all the same.
“Can you do something for me?” you whisper to her.
“Yes?” she asks.
“Could you please lay down? You need some rest.”
“Are you my nurse?” she asks.
You breathe in deep. “Yes.”
“Am I…” she glances briefly at her reflection in the vanity mirror, her eyes flitting up to the head scarf on her head that covers the absence of hair, “am I sick?”
You exhale. “Yes. You need rest.”
“Oh…” she acknowledges, “why, yes. I do feel…a little frail.”
“I know,” you comment, and you put the box down on the floor then help her up onto her feet slowly by holding onto her arm, and you guide her to sit on the bed and take her medications. She then lays down, and you nod at her reassuringly before you head out the door and close it behind you.
Your lip trembles with the threat of a sob as you stare straight forward at the wall in the dimness of the hallway. But a harsh bite to the plush of it ceases the quiver.
You make your way up the stairs to go grab that binder you had with the mortgage and house information, plus some of your recent utility bills. Except the binder is hard to locate, and you’re rummaging through the cabinets in your closet, the drawer of your nightstand, you’re even looking underneath the bed. But when you lift your head up from under it, still kneeling on the carpet, and glance at the wall, you notice something.
48’’ eight yrs. what a big girl!
46’’ seven yrs. big jump
41’’ six yrs.
37’’ five yrs. my little princess
…
..
–all written in graphite pencil, scribbled up the wall where you would stand tall against as a kid, your mom marking your height at every birthday. And your eyes start to well with tears.
This was your childhood home. With magical corners tucked away where you used to play hide and seek with your dad, with your old bedroom you used to play in with dolls and have tea parties with all your stuffed animals. There’s still a stain of fruit juice on the carpet underneath the rug that you never told your mom about because you knew she would be mad at you and would scrub it out, but it was in the shape of a heart and when you were a kid, you thought that meant you would find your prince charming some day. This house holds so many memories, like birthday parties and Christmas Eve and the sunflower patch in the backyard where you laid Sniffles to rest.
And it holds the familiarity of you that seems to be slipping through your mother’s fingers with each passing day, all those memories you created with her now solely yours to keep and no longer to share. But you realize at this moment that you’re not alone. This house still holds those memories with you.
Your eyes flicker to the graphite pencil marks on the wall again, and the tears flow freely.
In the moments where she cannot remember that you are her baby, this house remembers for her.
Your sleeve wipes at the dampness on your cheeks.
But it’s never enough, is it? And it’s never that easy, either. Life was never that easy, and you don’t always have the choices you might think you do.
You find the binder, and grab all the utility bills too, and head downstairs. You pass by your mother’s room with softness and sleuth, and guilt in your heart when you realize what you’ve chosen to do. There’s no pep to your step when you make it back to Gojo’s.
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
“Sooo,” Gojo says, after about twenty minutes of looking through all the house paperwork in the binder at the dining table, “your mom transferred ownership of the house to you as a gift deed when she was diagnosed?��
“Mhm,” you say.
“She paid off quite a bit of it,” he comments as he looks through banking statements, “but still not enough to pay off your medical debt, unfortunately.”
You sigh. “I know. It was never really a house she could afford anyways. She just received it from the divorce, and I remember we were supposed to downsize, but…she didn’t want to.”
“I see,” Gojo comments, “well, it’s alright, it would still help you a lot for sure. How many years are left for your solar panel lease?” He has a pen in hand and a custom realtor notepad in front of him with his messy handwriting all over it.
“It’s new,” you say, “still got thirty years left.”
“Jeez, okay. How much per month?”
You scavenge through the bills on your table. “Ummm um um ummm…….”
“You should really…get more organized.”
“You should really mind your fucking business.” You find the bill. “$285 per month.”
“Okay,” he scribbles it down, “does it offset your electricity bill?”
Your shoulders sulk. “A little bit.”
“Yeah, it might scare some buyers away.”
You sigh. “Oh and then the HOA too.”
“HOA?” he looks up at you with a puzzled expression on his face. “We don’t have an HOA in this neighborhood.”
“We don’t?” you blink at him. “Then who have I been sending $195 dollars to every month?”
“…….....you’ve seriously gotta be some special kind of stupid.”
After panicking for five minutes while checking your credit cards for fraudulent activity, Gojo gets done cutting up an apple for you.
“Here,” he says, sliding the plate to you, “since you look like you’re about to faint. Knowing you, it’s probably just low blood sugar.”
You dramatically sigh and sink in your chair. “I can’t believe I spent the last three years paying an HOA that doesn’t even exist…”
“Hey, on the bright side, there’s some dude out there on an exotic vacation that’s very thrilled by your idiocracy right now.”
You shoot him a look. And then you hang your head low to drink your extremely cold coffee that you were still nursing, before downing it all in one go. Your eyes catch the marriage paperwork that Gojo was reviewing earlier, and you see Higurama’s pre-filled in information that he typed onto the papers before printing them for him.
“Hm,” you hum, “it says here that you’ve been married before. You might want to get that fixed before we submit these.”
He stands up from the table, two of his fingers hooking onto the handle of his coffee cup, and he glances into yours to make sure it’s empty, briefly flicking his eyes to you and you shake your head for no, no more coffee, thanks before he wraps his other two fingers around the handle of your mug as well. The clink of the two porcelain mugs in his hand startles you a little as he walks past you to the kitchen sink. “There’s nothing to fix about that,” he says, his tone level and easy, “it’s true. I’ve been married before.”
Your eyes widen at his confession, and you quickly twist your torso in your chair to stare at him. Or at least, the back of him as he turns the faucet on and begins to rinse out coffee mugs.
Married? Before? There are so many questions swimming through your head right now, ones that you desperately want answers to, biggest of all perhaps being now who the fuck would actually want to marry him??? for real??? you’re telling me this self obsessed dork proposed to a real life woman with a pulse and she actually said ‘yes’ to him??? who was this woman, and which psych ward did he find her from???
But he’s so quiet from where he stands, broad shoulders less pushed back like they usually are, and something tells you he wouldn’t entertain any of those questions from you right now. A glance at the paperwork, though, tells you the divorce was recent. Less than a year ago. Around the time he moved in next door.
He still has his back facing you, and you try to sneakily catch a glimpse at more info under the Wife section on the prior marriages form. You can see the paper says maiden name: Inoue and you’re just about to sneak a peak at the first name when—
“You want to stay for dinner?” he asks when he turns around, leaning back against the sink counter. “I’m ordering pizza tonight.”
You’re surprised by the sudden invitation, and shuffle the papers over one another again. “Oh–that’s…that’s okay.” You glance at the clock he has hanging on the wall. “I’ve got work in a couple of hours, so…I should really get going. Have a few errands to run before then.”
“Okay, so, we’ll…talk later?”
“Yeah, later,” you stand up from your chair, and for some reason, the air feels a little heavier to you now. “Uh…” you start, awkwardly scoffing a little, “wow. Bachelor life again, then, huh? Probably just–...probably just beer and pizza every night?”
He purses his lips together, humoring you with a small laugh that comes out as a scoff through his nostrils. “No. Not really. I only order pizza when I close a sale on a house. My way of celebrating.”
“Oh,” you respond, “I see.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he says.
“I live next door,” you remind him.
His eyes widen slightly. “Oh. Right.”
“H-Hope the traffic’s not too bad!” you joke.
His laugh comes more genuine now. “You’re stupid.”
You head towards the door, and when he opens it for you, there’s a chill of air outside and it’s darker now, hues of dark gray, purple and a slight orange still present on the horizon paint the sky and you step outside then turn on your heel to face him.
“Um. Congrats, by the way. On the sale,” you tell him, “enjoy your night. And I’ll see you this weekend?”
“Huh?” He raises an eyebrow. “What’s happening this weekend?”
“We–” you scoff, “we’re getting married this weekend?”
“Oh!” he exclaims, tense, “right, yes, see you this weekend. For marriage. Of us.”
You roll your eyes and make your way down the concrete pavement that leads its way to his house, and leads its way away from it too. And when you walk back to your house, it’s not with a sulk, but it’s not with a pep in your step either. You just feel…neutral.
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
“So, tell me about this fake husband of yours,” Hana says, leaning against your work-on-wheels as you attempt to catch up on charting notes with 4 hours and 15 minutes and 53 seconds left on your shift (it’s not like you were counting though).
“Yeah, in a sec,” you mumble as you punch in keys.
6/2/2024 0344: patient placed on 5150 hold on 5/31 at 1745, continually monitored by ED tech. all objects have been removed from pt’s room to prevent any danger to self or others. however patient accessed hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall at roughly 0320 and ingested all the hand sanitizer. notified MD of toxic ingestion, follow up plan is to coordinate care with poison control. no further orders at this time
“Okay, what were you saying?” you look up at Hana again and rub the tired out of your eye with a balled up hand, along with all the mascara.
“Your fake husband!! Tell me about him!!” she chirps, shaking your work-on-wheels in excitement and the blur of your computer screen makes you feel dizzy.
“Shhhhh,” you hiss at her, “keep your voice down when we discuss illegal activities.”
She rolls her eyes. “Why are you always so paranoid? I’m already sick and tired of you charting incessantly every five seconds to save yourself from medical lawsuits that you haven’t even been accused of.”
“In a medical lawsuit, the chart is the law, Hana,” you say eerily with a shiver, and her words remind you to continue your detailed charting. “Never forget that.”
She sighs. Her gaze travels across to the other end of the emergency department, and you assume she’s staring at the asses of the EMT boys again, so you glance over your shoulder too.
Except instead, you see the worst person on the planet.
Well, second worst as of right now.
The worst person title was reserved for someone else.
Approaching from down the hall is Yuna, your ex-best friend, a bounce in her step as she walks with a sort of allure as her hips rock side to side, her mile-high ponytail swaying in beat with the rhythm as well, and the ashy blond highlights in her hair hypnotize anyone she waltzes by.
She was the kind of nurse that all the other nurses are jealous of. Always has cute little accessories and stickers on their badge, is wearing the fancy FIGS scrub sets that hug her sporty curves in all the right places, paired with those little shoes with the ankle socks, and she most definitely gets her water goal in for the day because she’s always sucking on the straw of her periwinkle Stanley cup around the ED all night just like she sucked the cum out of your boyfriend of seven years just twenty-four hours after the two of you had broken up–
“y/n,” she casually calls your name, leaning her elbow up on the cubicle divider of the nursing station. “It’s time for you to take your break. I’ll watch your patients.”
“I’m not taking my break,” you say, trying to relax the grit to your teeth which makes your eye twitch out of frustration instead. “Now get the fuck away from me before I call a Code Black.”
She sighs, rolling her eyes and smacking loudly on her gum. “Yaga said you have to take your thirty tonight. Something about how you haven’t clocked out for a break in more than two months and the hospital could get sued for that.”
“The hospital has way bigger cases they should be biting their nails about getting sued over,” Hana snorts just to butt in on conversation.
“C’mon,” Yuna says, her fingers reaching out to touch the handle of your work-on-wheels, purposefully stretched so that you can eye the perfect sparkly manicure to her nails. You curl your fingers into the skin of your palms to hide your gel polish that’s long started to scrape off. “Go clock out.”
“I’d rather die than listen to a single fucking thing you tell me to do,” you tell her, plain and simple.
“y/n!” a loud masculine voice calls from the other end of the Emergency Department, and all three of you visibly shrink a little in your stances out of fear. Head nurse Yaga. “Take your break, or I’ll be damned to let you set another foot in this hospital!!” he’s yelling at you all the way from the entrance to the CT scanner.
“But–”
“Now!!!!!”
Your eyes flicker to Yuna, who has an amused look on her face and a tilt to her head, and then you’re grumbling before logging out of your computer then stepping away from it. “Draw a CBC & chem on Beds 24 and 28 at 4 AM sharp,” you grumble to her, and she just gives you one of those tight-skinned smiles.
The break room is empty, with shades of beige on the walls and even more depressing shades of gray on the lockers. There are all sorts of things pasted on the walls, like photos from staff Halloween and Christmas parties, drawings that pediatric patients have made in appreciation of their nurses, and employee information that Yaga’s constantly shoving in everyone’s faces.
Okay, the backstory with Yuna. Pretty simple. You two had been best friends since high school, like inseparable best friends. Y’know, sneaking out late at night to use fake IDs at the bar, cover for the other when you’re busy losing your virginity to your high school boyfriend in the most dishonorable way possible, rooming together in college, sobbing and crying through all of nursing school together, ride or die type of friendship that you think you’d only find once in a lifetime. Except turns out your best friend, who you’d considered a sister, had eyes for your boyfriend since you started dating him in college, and the second that dickwad dumped you, you catch her sucking him off in the back of his Toyota Camry when you go to pick your stuff up from his place. Yeah, ouch. You lost the two closest people in your life, all in the matter of twenty-four hours, so pardon yourself for being a bit bitter about it.
But being bitter is the coping mechanism. The real way you feel comes in the form of tears prickling in your eyes and the pain in your throat as you try to swallow away the knot that’s suffocating you from the inside out. A type of loneliness that leaves you stranded even in a room full of people. But at the very least, this room is empty, so no one has to see the crack in your resolve.
There’s no time on a thirty-minute lunch break to have a full mental breakdown, so you sparsely wipe at your tears and head back to your shift.
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
If you want to know who actually holds the worst person on the planet title right now, well, you run into him on a Tuesday afternoon while on a grocery run after you just woke up from barely sufficient post night shift sleep. Bitter and drugged by Melatonin was not a state of being you needed to be in right now, but you’re out of orange juice and you’re having Vitamin C withdrawals which warrants a trip to the store. Unfortunately, the town only has one grocery store, which means you were bound to run into pestering ex-boyfriends at least once every full moon.
“Get the fuck out of my way, Choso,” you snarl at the man who’s walking backwards ahead of your grocery cart, trying to stop you in your tracks so you’d just chill out and listen to him for a second.
“Can you just chill out and listen to me for a second?” he asks you, irritation evident in his voice like you’re being the difficult one here.
“I already told you that I quite literally never want to see your stupid ugly face ever again for as long as I live,” you say, and you ram your grocery cart forward with so much force the metal hits his knees and he doubles over the basket indignantly with a groan.
He seems like he’s had enough of you evading him, so he jams his foot under the wheel to keep you from moving forward, and you’re scowling at him and struggling against his foot-stop but to no avail.
You briefly consider abandoning your cart all together and just bee-lining for the exit, but he’s a cop, so he’d easily be able to tackle you to the ground if you tried.
“What do you want?” you snarl, impatiently tapping your foot with every miserable passing second spent in his presence.
“I just–” He sighs, “I just want to talk. And to know how you’re doing. You won’t pick up any of my calls.”
“Huh?” You blink at him. “I’ve had you blocked for the past two weeks. You shouldn’t even be able to call me.”
His eyebrows raise. “Really?...who have I been dialing then?”
“Fuck if I know,” you shrug, and you use his moment of confusion to swerve your cart off to the side and make your way down the refrigerator aisle. Ohhh, dulce de leche gelato sounds nice, and it’s on sale. You grab a jar.
Choso’s trailing behind you as you eye price tags and sale signs in the open chill of the yogurt section. “Babe–”
“Don’t–” you immediately cut him off, spinning fast on your heel and he stops himself just in time from crashing right into you. You hold your index finger up in the air between the two of you with a clench to your jaw so tight it feels sore, and through gritted teeth you say, “don’t call me babe.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. It’s habit.”
Indeed, habit. Seven years of him calling you babe, or baby, or boobie (idk don’t ask). Your favorite though? Babydoll. He’d always call you that when he’d make sweet, sweet love to you while you were wearing his favorite flimsy little piece of lingerie–babydolls. Even now, the memories have your cheeks feeling hot. But he doesn’t get to call you babe anymore, and he doesn’t get to fuck you anymore, or talk to you anymore, or breathe in your general direction anymore, because he betrayed you. He wasted your time, and then he betrayed you.
Seven years of your sexual prime, where you could’ve been fucking hunky firefighters and bisexual Europeans, wasted on a man you weren’t even going to marry in the end anyways. Now you’re pushing thirty, and the idea of having to date again makes your skin crawl with anxiety that turns into fury because your doom is all caused by the man in front of you.
Whatever, forget about the sex and the impending loss of a woman’s novelty within society for a second. You loved him. A part of you still loves him. You wanted to marry this man. You thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with this man. Little sheriff deputy’s wife, Mrs. Kamo, the perfect number of letters to get on a bejeweled license plate. You had envisioned all the cute little quotes of adoration that would be imprinted on your wedding reception’s custom-made doily napkins with everyone that’s ever meant anything to you sitting at the table, ready to celebrate the love that you thought was real and true and brave and strong and one that would last forever.
But he abandoned you when you were at your lowest. And he fell into the arms of the one person you thought you could turn to crying when the relationship crashed and burned in the first place. And the problem with living in a small town is that everyone knows everybody’s business, so now you’re just the woman that wasted her youth on a man that played her like a broken fiddle. Utterly heartbroken, and humiliated.
So, yeah, he doesn’t get to call you babe anymore.
“Listen here, asshole,” you say, stabbing him in the chest with your finger, so he can feel even a fraction of the pain you’ve felt in the past three weeks, “I couldn't care less if you live today, or die tomorrow. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone. Or I’ll file for a restraining order.”
“Really?” he says, brows pulled tight together in disbelief, like he just can’t understand what he’s done to make you act this way, and quite frankly, that only makes it sting even worse, “after everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to throw away the past seven years?”
“What the fuck are you saying?!” you all but snap at him, and an elderly couple that’s passing by flinches a little from the noise and you wince in apology before glaring at Choso again. Your voice is hushed this time. “You’re the one that broke up with me, but I’m the one that’s throwing it all away??”
He purses his lips together, and you notice how dark the circles under his eyes are. He shuts them tightly and leans back away from you, which makes you realize how much he was leaning into your space just a second ago. “I know that we…aren’t dating anymore. But, I mean, c’mon, y/n, it’s me. Just because we’re not together anymore, doesn’t mean that I don’t still…care. I want to know how your mom’s doing, and how treatment has been for her, and–” he glances up at the ceiling briefly, as if to mislead you into thinking that the next thing he says is just as nonchalantly desired as the other things he listed, “and I want to know how you’re doing, too.”
“You don’t deserve to know how I’m doing. Continue to wallow in your pathetic self righteousness, or go run with your tail between your legs to that two-faced rat I used to call a best friend. Either way, I don’t give a damn,” you say, in a way that very much sounds like you give a damn unfortunately, and spin on your heel to continue pushing your cart down to the juice section.
“Yuna and I–” you hear him say behind you, and just the mention of her name on his tongue makes your heart ache in your chest, to the point you need to place a flat palm over it just to alleviate the pain, “I–...I broke things off with her yesterday.”
Fuck. Pretend like you’re not fazed by that info. Pretend like you’re not fazed by that info.
“Okay? Whatever,” you barely manage to say.
He’s silent for a moment behind you. The wheels of your cart squeak as they roll.
“I mean, we’re not together anymore. I’m not seeing her anymore,” he clarifies, as if he didn’t believe you heard him right the first time.
“Cool,” you comment, tone colder this time, since you had the practice round.
“You don’t–” Choso starts, a rattle of hurt and confusion in his voice, “you don’t care about that?”
“Nope.”
He reaches out to grab your wrist, and the contact burns through your skin, like something so familiar yet so foreign. You turn your head to look at him.
“I…” he starts, and you can see his chest rising and falling with more intensity. Oh god. Please. Please don’t say it. You’re not sure you can handle hearing it. “I really miss you.”
Damn it, he said it.
Your posture relaxes slightly when you take a long look at him. You finally notice his hair has gotten longer in just the three weeks you’ve been apart, layered locks curling at the end of his neck, and it’s the first time you’ve noticed such a small detail because you were so used to spending everyday with him. He spent most of the week at your house, since the two of you could never formally move in with one another after your mother was diagnosed and it was easier for him to come by to yours so you could continue to keep an eye on her. There’s no option to live on your own and start your own life when you’re taking care of someone sick. They become your priority, not yourself, but you’d still make every single sacrifice you’ve made for your mother over and over again in a heartbeat if you had to relive the past five years.
But that meant that you never had a real and true chance to live the life that you wanted with Choso. A place just for the two of you, lived in intimate solitude and not with the cries of your mother down the hall when she feels too sick to get up out of bed or when she cannot remember her own name. But you had never been this far apart from him to where you notice his hair is an inch longer than it was the last time you saw him. He was never that far away, as he is now. And you’ve just now realized it.
“I don’t,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat and your voice quivers ever so slightly when you speak, “I don’t care that you miss me.” You take a deep breath. “I’m getting married this weekend.”
His face entirely relaxes, like a calm before the storm, before it twists with so much confusion and incredulity and shock and–was that horror on his face?
“What?” he practically spats out, “it’s only been three weeks since we broke up!”
“Uhh,” you glance up at the ceiling of the store, just in time for an employee to make an announcement on the overhead for a manager at checkout lane 2 please, and then you glance back down at him, “I was having an affair while we were dating.” An easy lie.
He scowls. “Yeah fucking right. There’s no way you’d cheat on me.”
His words burn bitter. The fact that he couldn’t even fathom you hurting him the same way he hurt you makes you clench your teeth. Because he knew you were better than he was, and that you were too good for him, and yet he still wasted your honor.
His friends, who used to be yours too, have probably fed him lies since the breakup. Like it’s okay, man. You broke up with her before you got involved with someone else. You didn’t do anything wrong.
But you say bullshit to all of that. Because after seven years of being together, you can’t just cold turkey a relationship like that to sleep with someone else, and then claim it’s not cheating. Technicalities like that were no vindication if the betrayal hurt all the same in the end. Because it still felt like you got cheated on regardless.
“Whatever. I don’t need to explain myself to you,” you tell him, “I’m getting married this weekend, so I really don’t give a damn about anything between us anymore. It’s over.”
“Who are you marrying?” he asks, suddenly breaking a sweat over the news like he’s starting to suspect you’re actually being serious.
“My neighbor.”
His face twists with disgust. “Old man Jenkins? He’s eighty-four years old.”
You roll your eyes. “Not the one on my left, you idiot. My neighbor to my right.”
The corner of his mouth tugs up in a ridiculing smirk, and the sight of it makes your skin crawl. He scoffs. “There’s no way. You hate that guy.”
“It’s true. I’m marrying him.”
“Seriously??” He guffaws at you, leaning in closer to you and you lean away until your back is resting on the handle of your shopping cart. “The obnoxious realtor I once heard you talking in your sleep about how much you want to murder him and then dump him in a lake?”
“What?! I talk in my sleep?!” you gasp.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. You have for years.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that?!”
He looks annoyed. “Because you’re such a hypochondriac. You would’ve thought you had a brain tumor or something, and I’d have to deal with the paranoia that follows suit.”
“Choso,” you say to him with a strict tone, jutting your hip out to the side in preparation to scold, “my mother has Alzheimer’s, which is genetic, and I was having an abnormal neurological symptom for years which has studies to show is an early indication of dementia and you just chose not to tell me because you didn’t want to be annoyed?!”
“See?” he gestures to you, “you’re doing it right now. How did we go from just sleep talking to ‘I might have dementia’?”
“We,” you point between you and him, “are never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever getting back together. If there’s one thing you can pull through that stupid skull of yours, make it that.”
“Excuse me,” you hear a tiny voice squeak out, and you turn to your right to see a little kid trying to push past the two of you to grab a box of GoGurt in the Yogurt section. You move your cart forward by bumping it with your butt to get out of the kid’s way, and Choso circles around to the front of your cart before you start moving forward again. Like he’s literally stopping you from moving on from him.
“You’re lying about marrying this guy,” Choso says like it’s a fact. In typical cop gaslighting fashion. “You’re just saying that to make me jealous.”
You roll your eyes. “No. I’m just that hot and gorgeous that I made a man fall in love with me in three weeks.”
“He’s in love with you?” he asks.
“Duh, he wants to marry me. When you dumped me, I found comforting solace in my next-door-neighbor, and we fell into bed with one another, and now he feels the obligation to provide for me for the rest of my life. What’s so hard to believe about that? You didn’t find abrupt matrimony odd when we binged all three seasons of Bridgerton two months ago.”
“That show is set in the fuckin’ regency era,” he hisses at you, “look around. There’s plastic bags of Hot Cheetos with Red 40 in them everywhere. Does this look like the 1800s to you?”
You have to be careful with him. He’s a cop, who could arrest you for medical insurance fraud, and would also have a personal vendetta against your marriage because boo hoo he misses you. But yes, he was right, you did want to make him jealous, and you just can’t help it.
“Well, me and him have a love that no one else can understand, so suck it. I’m marrying him, and he’s super into me, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with me, and he desperately wants to put babies in me, and–”
“And where’s the ring he gave you, then?”
Fuck. You briefly flick your gaze down to your left hand and note the daunting absence of a shiny diamond on your ring finger. Note to self, Gojo needs to buy you a ring.
“I left it at home,” you mumble.
“Uh-huh, as all newly engaged women who have been waiting for a ring all their life would do.”
That pisses you off. Because you were waiting your whole life for him to put a ring on your finger, and he never did.
“Go fuck a fleshlight,” you snarl at him, unfortunately in earshot of the GoGurt kid and his mom shoots you a nasty look, but you’re a jaded woman after everything you’ve been through and you ram your cart into Choso so hard you swear you could’ve cracked his knee caps, and he doubles over in enough pain for you to have the time to leave him stranded there as you push your cart all the way to the end of the store.
You finally make it to the orange juice section, the one thing you needed, although your cart is filled with things you didn’t need, because that’s always how these grocery runs go. You try to take a few breaths to calm down the fast beating in your heart after that confrontation with Choso. You’re not good with confrontation, even though it might seem like you are, but you’re just putting on a face. Acting strong, when really all you want to do is curl up into a ball and cry. But there are bills to pay, and images to upkeep, and orange juice to replenish.
Your hand reaches out for the handle on the refrigerator door, but just before you curl your fingers around it, another hand beats you to it. It’s a large and masculine hand, with veins disappearing into the cuffed felted fabric of a suit jacket, and the knuckles turn a shade lighter than the olive skin around them when the fingers flex around the handle.
You glance up at the person standing next to you, who you register towers over you in height. He has long, sleek black hair that shimmers under fluorescent lighting, some of which is tied up and out of his face, while the rest cascades over his back. But there’s tendrils of hair falling over the left side of his face, barely distracting you through the intensity of purple in his eyes when he glances at you.
“Ah, apologies,” he says, and the way he speaks is so calm and gentle, different from the intimidating aura he holds himself with. He retreats his hand from the handle.
“Oh, that’s–” you find yourself stuttering, “...that’s okay.” You grab the handle and open it, the chill rush of the fridge hitting you as your eyes peruse the selection of orange juice cartons while his eyes remain on you. You awkwardly glance at him again. “Sorry, d-did you also need to get orange juice?”
He nods. “Yes, I did.”
Not a man of many words, you think to yourself. Or maybe just around people he’s just met.
Your eyes catch the familiar labeling of your go-to orange juice, the one with no pulp and has added Vitamins D and E (basically the one for children), but you realize there’s only one left. You grab it anyway and put it in your cart. When you glance up at the handsome stranger beside you, there’s a slight look of amusement on his face.
“Seems we both have the same taste in orange juice,” he comments.
“Oh no,” you say with a small laugh, “I’m sorry. It’s the last one.” Your eyes widen. “You–…you can have it, if you want–”
“Oh, no, no,” he shakes his head, long hair swaying with the motion as he holds his hands up in front of himself, “please. I will just find a nearby store.”
You tilt your head. “Oh there’s no other stores nearby…unless you get on the highway for at least twenty minutes. It’s a…small town.”
His lax expression finally cracks into one of subtle surprise. “That’s interesting.”
“Are you…new to town?” you ask.
He nods with a small smile on his face. “Indeed. Well, just visiting. I’m from New York.”
“Oh! Wow, that’s a long way from here.” You briefly register that he does look like a city man. Upscale restaurants, skyline views, premium outlets. The subtle fragrance of his cologne smells expensive too. “What are you up to while visiting?” You mentally facepalm yourself for asking personal questions, but he seems mysterious and you like peeling the layers back on people like him.
His expression drops, turning almost solemn and his eye contact that was previously very direct is suddenly averted elsewhere, “Just…visiting some old friends.” There is no elaboration.
“Ahh…I see,” you say, picking up on the hint that he has no more words to give you. “Well…I’ll be taking the orange juice…maybe try one with pulp?” you suggest a little cheekily.
His lips tug upwards in a lopsided smile, one you’d call a smirk if you weren’t so mesmerized to define it as one, “I’ll think about it.”
You hum slightly in polite acknowledgement of him, then push your cart back towards the heart of the store without a word of goodbye.
Odd stranger, who’s good at giving misleading answers. You wonder what life he’s come here to escape.
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
It’s a bright, picturesque Sunday morning, with children laughing and squealing out on the streets in front of your house as they ride their scooters up hot pavement while their parents catch up on PTA drama on the lawns. You’re standing in front of your full length mirror, trying on dress #3 for your little meeting with the courthouse today. And by little meeting, you mean your wedding. You’re getting married today.
The dress you have on falls to below your knees and has buttons all the way from the hem right up to the base of your neck, where the collared neckline wraps around you like a noose. Suffocating, way too prim and proper, although it’d make your grandma very happy and adored to see you should you show up to church service in it.
Your bed is cluttered with clothes you’ve thrown across it as you try to find a good dress. Your hands move with impatience as you skim through the rack of your closet for another dress to try on, since you’re starting to push the time a little too much. You’ve only got ten minutes before you need to leave.
A dress tucked in the corner of your closet catches your eye and you pull it out. It’s a cream-colored milk maid dress with an underskirt to puff out the A-line silhouette, length down to your shins that would be oh-so-flattering with a cute pair of heels. There are small red flowers adorning the pattern, with tiny green leaf details as well. It was cute and sweet and feminine, something you haven’t worn in a long time unlike your usual monotonous hospital scrubs, stained sweatpants and adult onesies.
It was the dress your friend Sana convinced you to buy when you thought you were going to get engaged. In the first two years of your relationship with Choso, you two talked about marriage non-stop. You both had just graduated college when you first started dating, and it felt like your lives were finally starting. At the end of the second year you two had been together for, after Christmas dinner with your family, he pulled you into his arms and you squealed with glee as he spinned you around in your childhood bedroom upstairs and told you how much he wanted to marry you, and that he was going to propose in the new year.
Your mother was diagnosed with cancer in January, and he never brought up marriage ever again.
He still stayed with you for five years after that though, and swiftly dodged every single question you ever asked him about his impending proposal. For five years, you were fed every excuse in the book. And in hindsight, you feel like an idiot for staying, and for still holding out hope, when what you were really holding onto was heartbreak. The feeling of not being enough, like someone was just tolerating you, and not loving you. It was easy to ignore at times, given how occupied you were with driving your mother to chemotherapy appointments and reading up on books about which diet works best to slow down the development of Alzheimer’s because your mother started showing signs of dementia just two months after the cancer diagnosis. But in those moments of freedom, where you had a moment to breathe, all you could breathe was a suffocating smoke. Because you stopped feeling wanted or loved in between all of it.
But there was a trip he planned for the two of you to Greece. It was after your mother had first successfully gotten into remission. A gasp of fresh air amongst all the pain and suffering, and you could only assume that he wanted to celebrate by taking you on a trip. Sana was convinced he was going to propose to you on this trip, and you wondered if maybe he was just waiting until your mother felt better before he proposed so that the two of you could enjoy being newly engaged without the pressure or worry. Sana took you shopping, and you bought this dress, one that clings to your form in a way that made you feel beautiful. Made you feel wanted. Made you feel worthy of being loved. Because all other parts of yourself had been overlooked and paid no attention, but you thought a dress could save you.
He never proposed. You left Greece with an extra suitcase of souvenirs, but without a ring on your finger or even a compliment on how beautiful you should’ve looked to him standing there on that beach with this cream-colored dress on, arm wrapped around his. And it was at that point you became numb, and you existed in limbo for the remaining four years of your relationship. Until he finally did what you silently begged him to do, with every sullen look in your eyes when you glanced at him. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, what he did to you. Something you willed him into because you didn’t have the strength to leave, and so he had to.
You hold the dress up to your form in the mirror. It’d still fit you, and it’s far too pretty to have only worn once. But you’ve been numb for so long now, you don’t even remember what it’s like to feel pretty in a dress. You unbutton yourself out of dress #3 and step into failed proposal dress #4, and as you slowly zip up the back of the dress, you’re met with resistance.
Fuck.
The last thing you need right now is a weight-related meltdown.
You tug up on the zipper even more, harshly, to the point you hear a stitch rip and you gasp and try to do it slowly so as not to completely tear the dress apart. But it’s not fitting. It should fit. You just assume the zip is stuck, or it’s too rigid after years of no wear.
You’re about to do another colossal yank upwards that could potentially dislocate your shoulder when you jump at the sound of your phone chiming with a notification. And then multiple.
“What...the hell…do you want…” you sigh to nobody, swiping your hands across the pile of dress fabric on your bed to find your phone, and when you do, you quickly tap on the screen to see the messages.
|| 11:32AM neighbor (avocado tree): Hey, are we still getting married today?
First of all, wild fucking thing to nonchalantly ask.
|| 11:32AM neighbor (avocado tree): Your car’s still parked out front, so I wasn’t sure if you’ve left yet. I was just about to leave, and then the thought occurred to me that we should probably carpool?
|| 11:35AM neighbor (avocado tree): But just wanted to verify, are you sure you want to go through with this? You’re not having cold feet? Won’t be a runaway bride? I’m not gonna be left at the altar, wondering where I went wrong?
You roll your eyes, breathing heavily still from the struggle of zipping up your dress.
|| 11:36AM You: yes, we are still getting married. I just can’t zip up my dress for the life of me
It takes him a whole minute to respond.
|| 11:38AM neighbor (avocado tree): Do you need help?
You blink at your phone screen. Help? What kind of help? Helping you zip up your dress?
You look over your shoulder to the full length mirror, eyeing your back. The dress was zipped up to just above the small of your back, with the rest of it flayed open to reveal the expanse of your skin. Setting your phone down, you roll your shoulders back once and flex your fingers to try again in securing this dress, but to no avail. You curse yourself for not having the flexibility, and to be honest, you’re not even sure if you can take the dress off anymore to get into something else with the way the zipper won’t budge neither up nor down. Well. You’re just going to have to wear this dress for the rest of your life now. A scary predicament.
You pick your phone up again.
|| 11:41AM You: yes
It only takes about two minutes for him to text you that he’s at your front door, a surprisingly considerate gesture considering your mother is sleeping downstairs so it’s good he didn’t ring the doorbell, and you tiptoe your way down and over the creaky floorboards of the stairs to the front entrance.
You slowly crack the door open only a couple inches, hiding yourself from him behind it as you peek at him. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he says, and he glances at his watch. “We’ve got to hurry.”
You nod, and take note of his appearance. He’s wearing a dark fitted navy suit over a white dress shirt, which to your surprise, doesn’t have the top two buttons sluttily undone for once. His suit pants are perfectly tailored to his ankles and you can barely see the exposed fabric of black socks before they disappear into his polished Oxfords. He looks like he’s going to a wedding. Oh wait, he is.
He raises an eyebrow at you when you refuse to reveal yourself by stepping away from behind the door. Even his hair is particularly kept and proper, swept off to the side slightly in a way that makes him look younger and you feel nervous from the intensity of those eyes, which are usually somewhat hidden by the fringe of his snowy hair, now look at you unwaveringly with no obstruction. You feel like you’re seeing him in a completely new light, and for some reason, it makes you cower behind the door even more.
“Uh, are you going to let me in?” he asks you, his foot tapping lightly on the welcome! mat.
“Yes,” you say, but you make no movement to prove your word.
“y/n,” he says, “we need to get going.”
You sigh, tapping your fingers against the stained glass window of your front door to release some nerves before hesitantly stepping to the side and pulling the door open all the way, then you’re standing in front of him in full view. You catch a glimpse of the black tie hanging from his neck that’s secured all the way up to the collar of his shirt, before you finally look at his face.
Those striking eyes of his round slowly until he’s looking at you wide-eyed, blinking in some sort of dazed surprise as his gaze eventually sweeps down your entire form to take in the sight of you standing barefoot on wooden floor in your cream-colored dress, and you swear you see the muscles in his jaw jump. His brow furrows like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“You–” he starts, that shocked blinking still taking place on his face, and you grasp the fabric of your dress in front of you from the anticipation of what he’ll say, “...you look beautiful.”
A silence settles between the two of you as he continues to roam his eyes all down you like there’s nothing that could stop him from doing it, and you feel heat in your cheeks from his compliment. It’s just a silly little cream-colored dress. One that didn’t look pretty on a beach in Greece, so why would it look beautiful on you here right now? While you’re standing at the dusty front entrance of a decades old house? He’s bullshitting you.
“You know you don’t have to compliment me, you know that, right?” you squeak out, trying to keep your tone level and easy to fight back the raw feeling in your throat, “this isn’t a first look. There are no photographers around to capture your reaction. We’re not actually getting married.”
“But–”
“Can you just help me with the dress?” you cut him off so he doesn’t say anything else that makes you feel pretty right now.
“...sure,” he agrees, and he steps inside your house. You start to walk upstairs, and he follows suit, and you suddenly feel his eyes on your back so you turn around and walk up the stairs backwards while facing him.
“I don’t understand the concept of first looks anyway,” he says out of nowhere to cut the silence, “isn’t it a bad omen to see your partner before getting married?”
“That’s such an outdated superstition,” you tell him as your feet finally press firmly flat at the top of the stairs.
One of his feet is placed next to where you’re standing up straight at the top, while the other is still on the third step down. And it’s like he’s kneeling on one knee in front of you as he looks up at you. After a moment of deep breathing on your part, you finally step away from the top of the stairs so he can finish walking up them too.
“I don’t know what happened,” you say to him as you make it to the front of your full length mirror, “I was just trying to zip it up but it got stuck. And it’s not unzipping either.”
He comes up behind you, and you can see in the mirror that he’s put a decent amount of space between the two of you from the way his arms are reached out in front of him just to access the zipper. He tugs up on it.
“Hm. It…” he struggles with it, “it seems…” he yanks again, “jammed?”
“Fudge,” you mutter under your breath (more ladylike perhaps, as opposed to fuck) and you sulk your shoulders. “But will it close at all, do you think?”
He takes a step closer to you, and his cologne has the fragrance of woody oak with undertones of citrus, like something expensive and sophisticated. His hand sweeps your hair off to the side and over your shoulder to the front so he has a better view, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck from the motion and you try to fight the shiver. A glance to the mirror, and you see his eyes are set on the exposed skin. He tugs to pull your dress together, and is able to cross the fabrics. “Yeah, it should. I think just hold your breath for a second? I’m going to try to see if zipping it down helps unjam it.”
“Okay,” you say softly, and he eyes you in the mirror at the sudden subservience.
You try to hold your breath as he tugs down on the zipper, and you hear the metallic click when he succeeds in unjamming it before he zips it down just an inch. You can feel the small of your back exposed to cool air from the motion.
He’s suddenly frozen entirely behind you, the knuckle of his index finger brushing against your skin as he continues to pinch the zipper between it and his thumb. You feel his slow exhale on the back of your neck. You’re too scared to look at his expression in the mirror.
“Sa–” you stutter through a gasp, “Satoru.”
“Sorry,” he says quietly, and then he’s shifting on his feet once before slowly attempting to zip the dress up.
He’s met with a slight resistance just underneath your shoulder blades. “Hey. Just hold your breath.”
“I’m trying to,” you tell him, almost whining, because it’s hard to stop breathing when your heart is beating fast and it needs the oxygen supply.
“Do you want to try on a different dress?” he asks you.
“No,” you immediately answer him. You’re not sure why, but the idea of wearing this dress for the rest of your life doesn’t scare you anymore. In fact, you never want to take it off.
Your hands twiddle with the flimsy string at your collarbone that you tied to connect the fabric across your chest, and then you realize. “Oh…maybe I need to–” you tug at the end of the string, “undo this? That might make it looser?” You finally glance at the mirror to seek his approval of your suggestion.
His eyes meet yours, and when he sees what you’re referring to, his eyes widen. “But that would–”
“Just don’t look,” you say simply.
You two remain looking at one another in the mirror, and you see his chest heaving slightly through the tightening of his dress shirt against the expansion of his breathing. Like you’re asking the impossible of him.
“Or I’ll kill you,” you say.
He sighs, and his eyes flit down to your zipper again. You swear you feel his hand tremble slightly. “Alright.”
You pull on the end of the string, watching him in the mirror to make sure his eyes don’t wander, and the fabric covering your breasts falls open, but you use a hand to still sparsely cover your skin with the cloth where you can. In the reflection, you see his jaw clench but his eyes remain on the zipper, and only briefly flicker to the bed once. Then he’s zipping up your dress with ease.
You quickly tie the string above your chest once more to cover yourself up, and then spin to face the mirror, petting down the fabric of your dress and throwing your hair back over your shoulder. It was a snug fit, but at least it still fit.
He’s a step behind you with his hands shoved in his suit pockets, looking at your face with a slight tilt to his head like he’s studying you in the mirror just as much as you’re studying yourself. And then he pulls his hand out of his pocket to glance at his watch again. “It’s almost noon,” he says.
“What?!” you bark at him. “We’re fucking late!!! Why didn’t you say anything?!?!”
“Huh??” he baffles. “I’ve been trying to tell you we need to rush this entire time.”
“Oh my god, oh my god,” you say, pacing your room to find your things in a scurry, picking your purse up and then grabbing your Manila folder of paperwork from your desk, and you try to walk past him to the door when you trip over the five pairs of shoes that you had been trying on earlier, almost twisting your ankle, and you gasp then grab onto his suit jacket for purchase before his arm attempts to reach out to hold you upright but to no avail since you tug on him as you fall straight backwards onto your bed and bring him down with you.
His hands sink into the soft mattress on both sides of your head, wrists tickled by your hair, as he hovers over you, and your fingers quickly curl into little balls at your chest as you shrink underneath him, looking up at his surprised expression, likely from having to suddenly brace himself from falling right on top of you.
You both look at each other, blinking as you come down from the sudden chaos, and his tie that’s hanging from his neck brushes against your knuckle and falls over your hand to graze the skin above your breasts. His eyes briefly flicker to the sight, and he catches himself only to stare at your lips instead.
Even through thick layers of fabric, you can see the thick curves of the muscles in his arms, pulled taut from how he’s holding himself up over you. And for once, you wish the buttons of his shirt were undone, so you can see what he’s hiding underneath. The hair he had swept up above his eyes now falls freely with gravity, soft tufts that dangle above you and shadow over the blue of his eyes as he looks at you with a furrowed brow that–...that makes him look handsome.
You must be ovulating.
No, wait, you finished ovulating a couple days ago.
Oh god.
Was your next door neighbor hot this entire time?
There was simply no way.
You refuse to believe it.
You’re laying still like a deer in highlights, motionless underneath him, before he curls his arm around your waist to bring you up with him as he stands up straight, and you only spend a moment pressed up against him before you get yourself out of his grasp by pushing flat palms against his chest, and then the two of you are in proper distance from one another once again.
“D-Don’t ever do something like that ever again,” you stutter, shimmying your hips slightly to pull the snug fabric down your waist from where it had risen up.
“I didn’t do anything,” he grumbles, and he runs a hand through his hair. Now it looks like it always does, no longer prim in style.
“Whatever, let’s just go.” You slip your feet into one of the pairs of heels sprawled across on the floor, and then you head straight for the door. “You drive.”
You hear him sigh behind you. “Yes ma’am.”
•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•
The courthouse is bustling with people when you two arrive but Gojo’s pleasantly able to pull into an open curbside parking spot right in front of the entrance. You’re surprised when he comes around to the passenger side to open the door for you, and you swat his hand away when he offers it to you too, but you probably should’ve taken it, since you almost twist your ankle for the second time today as you step out onto the curb and get used to walking in heels again like a newborn fawn.
“Should’ve taken my hand,” he says to you, smile turned upwards into a smirk as he watches you struggle while he’s a few steps ahead of you.
“Give it to me then,” you grit through your teeth as you wobble, giving up your pride to avoid adding yet another medical bill to the list of debts in your name.
“Nah,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, “too late. Lost your chance.” You curse his entire lineage in your head.
You two make it inside the courtroom, and the first person you look for is Hana, whose head you catch at the front row much to your pleasant surprise since she is your sole witness to sign on the marriage certificate today. But in your study of the room to find her, you notice that there are a lot of other people in here as well.
“Don’t tell me…Did you invite people??” you ask Gojo, grabbing onto his sleeve to get his attention and also for balance, but he doesn’t need to know that latter part.
He glances down at you. “No? Why would I invite people to my fake wedding?”
Your eyes peruse the room once again, and you realize that most of them are just old retired people with nothing better to do on a Sunday than visit the courtroom. Some are elderly couples, eyeing you and Gojo as you two make your way down the aisle with sweetness in their eyes like awwwwwww to be a young couple in love once more <3 while they wait for the judge to call on their hundreds of unpaid parking tickets because they don’t know how to access an internet portal.
“D-Do you have the marriage license?” you squeak out to Gojo, who has now adjusted his walking speed to match yours.
“No, I left it at home,” he tells you in a flat tone. “Of course I brought the marriage license.”
“I was just checking, jeez…” you grumble.
Gojo hands the clerk the folder he was holding in his hand, and you hand in yours too.
Oh god. Your peripheral vision already recognizes him before your brain can, but you see an extremely familiar silhouette standing guard off to the side of the Judge’s bench, and your gaze immediately snaps in that direction.
Choso stands there, in his Sheriff Deputy’s uniform, his thumbs tucked into his vest as he puffs his chest out in assertion of his oh so important duty securing the courthouse on a Summer Sunday from any devastating danger, such as an elderly man not wanting to pay a parking ticket and then proceeding to charge towards the judge at 2 MPH, and you can’t help but roll your eyes from his attitude and scowl at him. Of course he pulled some strings and saw when you were getting allegedly married and decided to show up on that exact day. Whatever. You’ll pay him no mind. As long as he doesn’t speak now.
You and Gojo walk back to the lower desk in front of the Judge’s Bench.
“Ah! y/n, hello my dear, how are you?” the judge calls out to you.
“Hi Judge Jun,” you say meekly with a small wave, your voice echoing in the room, “good, and yourself?”
6/4/2024 1232: Judge Jun is a 72 y/o man with a past medical history of hypertension, hypercholesterolemia, hyperglycemia, GERD, liver cirrhosis and COPD, who endorses a social history of frequent tobacco usage and occasional alcohol consumption. Patient presents to the ED with chief complaint of chest pain, onset two hours ago after he drank three bottles of beer, and—
“Much better since you took care of me last week!” he humphs, patting his stomach.
You snap out of your automatic charting that was droning on in your head on reflex from how many times Judge Jun has shown up to the ED for acute chest pain which almost always ends up just being beer-induced GERD.
“At the hospital!” you clarify, “for taking care of you at the hospital!”
The man laughs heartily from where he sits up at the raised platform bench. “Yes! And Mr. Gojo! Nice to see you as well.”
You flit your eyes to Gojo, like you know him too? He only briefly spares you a sidewards glance before looking back at Judge Jun. “Likewise, sir.”
You postulate he scammed the fuck out of the man into signing a forty-year lease on a condo in the shady part of town, and you’ll leave it at that.
“I have to say, I am a little shocked by this matrimonial partnership!” Judge Jun chimes in. “But do you both swear to enter this marriage under just circumstances? I will need verbal affirmation from you both.”
Gojo raises his hand up in the air to swear on it, and you remember that he’s possibly done this before. Y’know how people have a courtroom wedding before a real wedding, something like that. And maybe that’s why he knows to raise his hand, because you didn’t even know you were supposed to raise your hand until now.
A real wedding. Something you’ve pictured a lot in your head, and so much more different than the arrangement you find yourself in right now. And because the pain of imagining yourself tying the knot with someone is too much right now, especially when the man you thought you were going to marry stands in uniform five feet away from you and probably doesn’t even recognize the dress you’re wearing right now, you glance over to Gojo and you try to imagine what a real wedding would’ve been like for him. Since he’s done it before.
He probably had a tacky wedding, like in a barn with barrels of beer used as tables with barely flickering string lights hung across wooden planks high on a triangular ceiling. The reception and the ceremony likely happened under the same roof, because he seems like the minimalist type, more focused on the feelings behind it and all, and not the grandeur.
Or maybe he was into the grandeur. Maybe he had a wedding on a skyline penthouse in the city, wearing expensive cologne like the one he’s wearing now, and a Dior suit he got custom made because it was a once in a lifetime occasion so why not? The image becomes a little too vivid in your head now, where you can picture this woman he’s marrying too. Pretty, tall just like him, wearing a ball gown white dress. He would’ve told her she looked beautiful, too. He would’ve told her he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. Vows uttered shakingly into the microphone at an altar while the sun is setting far into the sky, shimmering off of high building windows until the air is golden and it reflects off of his and his soon-to-be wife’s face. And when they’ve professed their love for one another, he grabs her by the waist and dips her in a kiss, for the perfect picture against the perfect backdrop in front of all the perfect little people because there probably was a photographer at that event, wanting to capture the moment.
You snap out of the dazed moment when a loud voice calls out your name, and in a shock, you glance back up at Judge Jun who’s looking at you with slight irritation.
“Huh?” you squeak out, and then turn to look at Gojo, who’s got a look of mild concern on his face as he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Please swear that this marriage is under just circumstances,” Judge Jun states with a cadence that indicates he’s commanded this of you multiple times already.
“Oh!” you stand up straight, “I—…I’m sorry.” You hold your hand up. “Yes, I swear this marriage is under just circumstances.” Just like Higurama had you practice. He’d be proud. Phew, the hard part was over.
The rest of the ceremony goes by in a rather fast blur, and it’s a little awkward when you both have to tell Judge Jun that you don’t have any vows to exchange at the moment when he offers the time for them, but Gojo comes up with some lie about how the real vows will be at our formal ceremony, and Judge Jun seems entirely satisfied and a little too ecstatic by the answer before allowing you two and Hana to sign the marriage certificate.
“And rings?” Judge Jun asks as he peers down through his glasses to the paper he was holding at his desk. “We can now make time for the exchange of rings.”
You’re prepared for Gojo to come up with another lie about how the real rings will be at our formal ceremony, but you see him shuffling with something in his pocket in your periphery. Hm? You glance down at his hip, and you see him pull something shiny out.
He turns to face you, and he holds his hand out to you with an up-facing palm. You blink at him and then glance down at his hand. And then you look up and blink at him, and then glance down his hand. And then you look up and blink at him, and then gl—
“Give me your hand,” he says to you, a little hushed and rushed.
“Why???” you ask, baffled.
“So I can put a ring on your finger?” he says, like it’s the most casual thing. Like getting a ring slipped onto your fourth finger is the most casual Sunday for you, when it’s something you’ve dreamt of your whole entire life.
You finally take a long hard look at the ring he’s holding in his right hand. It shimmers with every glint of light in the courtroom off of every angle, no doubtedly precisely cut diamond from a jeweler who really cares about their craft, and you swear you’ve saved a similar looking ring to one of your Pinterest wedding boards before.
You hesitantly bring your hand up and hover it over his.
“Your left hand, silly,” he tells you.
“Oh, right,” you say, and hand him your left one instead.
He holds it in his hand that is much warmer than yours, and it’s so tender, the way he gently slips the ring onto your finger. It fits with ease, perfection actually, and you can’t help raising your hand up in the air, spreading your fingers weakly as you admire the stone now sitting above your knuckle. It’s pretty.
You feel Gojo’s eyes on you, as he’s halted in frame, and you glance past your hand to look at his face. You dislike him. You do. You should. He’s your annoying as fuck next-door-neighbor. So then why does your heart feel like it could burst right now?
A glimmer of silver catches your eye, and you look down at his hands as he slips a silver ring onto his left hand while facing you before he turns to face the front again, signaling the end of the ring exchange, except you didn’t get to put it on his hand. He didn’t give you the chance.
“Alright! Wonderful!” Judge Jun exclaims, whose eyesight is probably too poor to have seen that it wasn’t even a proper ring exchange. “With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”
There is scattered applause across the courtroom, a few cheers as well, as you two stand in front of the court of law in holy matrimony.
Judge Jun glances at Gojo. “Well, young man, you may now kiss the bride!”
“Oh—…that—” you stutter, “that’s not necessa—”
“Okay,” Gojo says, more to affirm Judge Jun than in acknowledgement of your protest, and in a series of what feels like just one motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you two him and then he—
He kisses you.
He kisses you like it’s real, like there’s history, like it’s a pure thing meant to last and not something you quite literally put a time stamp on. The kiss muffles the small sound that comes from your throat, your hands held up in the air in some slight surrender before they slowly settle on his shoulders as he bends you backwards over his forearm to deepen the kiss and the cheers surrounding you grow with a fervor that has your cheeks burning red but for some reason you don’t want it to end—
And then he pulls away from you, eyes darting across the features of your face in close proximity as he exhales slowly, like a release, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in this room before he glances at your lips one last time and then he releases his hold on you. You stand shocked, and briefly glance at Choso, who looks like he’s about to burst a fuse off the top of his head.
What.
What.
What?
And just like that, you were married to your insufferable next-door neighbor.
.
.
.
[end of chapter 2]
a/n. thank youuu soooo so much for reading this chapter of ihm!! i’m kinda liking the writing style i’ve adopted for this series, it’s kinda lax n lenient sort of like a stream of consciousness and i hope it doesn’t come of too crass of informal lol i’m just playing around w some writing styles rn. ANYWHO i hope you enjoyed!! btw i picture choso as long-hair choso in any modern au (and not pigtails choso) so if you see me describing his hair in the way that i do, that’s why lol. love you all so much, hope to see you in the next one <3
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#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x reader angst#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru fluff#smut#fluff#angst#gojo satoru fanfiction#suguru x reader#choso x reader#long fic#jjk fanfiction#jjk series#romance#fake dating#fake marriage#neighbors au#ongoing series#humor#slow burn#mutual pining#enemies to lovers#gojo x reader series
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dont mind me i just wanna be a """""little""""" sappy,,,
I love my mutuals. I love my mutuals whom I talk to on discord or through tumblr (msgs/cmts). I love my mutuals who I talk to or reply to through tags on posts. I love my mutuals who I talk to every once in a while. I love my mutuals who I just never talk to. I love my mutuals who I don't talk to. who never interact with me, but still choose to be my mutual. I love my mutuals who aren't restricted to one fandom, one interest. I love my mutuals who are restricted/choose to be restricted to one fandom/interest. I love my mutuals who I can recognize just based on their sims/art style. I love my mutuals who I can recognize based on their rendering and editing style. I love my mutuals who I recognize almost instantly based on their name. I love my mutuals who I recognize almost instantly based on their pfp/theme. I love my mutuals who I recognize almost instantly based on their typing/texting/speech. I love my mutuals who I recognize almost instantly based on how they reblog (no tags/typing out as many tags as possible). I love my mutuals who I share a fandom/interest with. I love my mutuals who I don't share a fandom/interest with. I love seeing my mutuals post about their interests, I love seeing you guys post about anything, I love seeing your posts, I love seeing what your interested in, even if I don't know or aren't interested in the media, I still love your posts about that interest, I love when you post so much about media it makes me piece together the storyline, or makes me want to watch the media. I love seeing your art, sims and/or not sims, I love seeing you express yourselves, I love seeing how you guys post stuff, I love how I can tell who's post is who's based on how they caption their posts. I love seeing you guys in my notifs, I love seeing what posts of mine you reblog, I love seeing what you guys have to say in the tags, or even if you don't put tags, I just love seeing you guys in my notifs. I appreciate you all. I appreciate those who reach out to me so we can talk more. I appreciate those who dont reach out to me. I appreciate those who tag me in tag games or in something that reminds you of me. I appreciate those who don't tag me in tag games or the like. I appreciate those who send me asks, whether for an ask game, a question, or just wanting to say something to me (regardless of if you send that ask on or off anon). I appreciate those who don't send me asks. I appreciate those who ONLY send anon asks. I appreciate those who never send anon asks. I appreciate those who are always online. I appreciate those who are sometimes online. I appreciate those who only check tumblr once a day. I appreciate those who haven't even been active in 3 days. I appreciate those who haven't been active in 3 months. I appreciate all my mutuals.
I love you guys, you are all so amazing, strong, creative, talented, inspiring, admirable and humorous people, you all really truly deserve anything and everything wonderful in life, I love being mutuals with you and I truly TRULY from the bottom of my heart appreciate you, it really does make me happy when I see you guys on my dash, or when I see you in my notifs. Thank you and good night :') <3333
#idk i keep seeing my mutuals having a hard time. esp in this last week and ive been super sappy esp after my friends graduated-#-so i just wanted to share my love for you all. with you all.#nobody may see this or most of my mutuals will see this but either way I love my mutuals 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵#unfathomable amounts of my love and appreciation going YOUR way mutual#of course. I love all my followers. truly. I just needed to sap all about my lovely mutuals#yapping
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Your Hands All Over My Guilty Conscience
☆ Okkotsu Yuuta x F!Reader
☆ Chapter 1/7
☆ Genre: Fluff & Smut, Mutual Pining
☆ Warnings: NSFW 18+
☆ Contents: Aged-Up Characters, College AU, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Obsession, Loyalty, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Drinking, House Party, Masturbation
☆ Word Count: 10.6k
☆ Summary: Linked at the hip as best friends since birth, you and Yuta have never once not been at eachother's side. Anyone who knew one of you, had to know the other. You made quite the reputation for yourselfs as an inseparable duo, throughout all your school years together. Yuta was committed to keep things this way, despite his secret feelings for you. He was strong-willed, keeping his longing emotions reined in and your relationship stable just the way it is.
But once the two of you graduate and enter university, this proves to be more difficult than Yuta anticipated. He finds himself in a whole other playing field. One that forces him to see and confront his feelings for you head-on. His once clean consciences regarding you, starts becoming more and more tainted. And worse, uni only seems to pull the two of you apart, something neither of you are used to. What is he supposed to do with all these new experiences and deep yearning for you?
☆ A/N: i actually wrote this chapter a while ago but didnt want to share until i had more planned out and written! hopefully next chapter is soon but this first one is probably longer than the ones following will be! think of it like a detailed opening introduction to the story.
warning: this story switches from fluff to smut/perverted a lot. might throw you off at times. also, HEAVY on the obsession tag. youre both obsessed with eachother but i really went over the top to express how crazy yuta is for you. hehe
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Chapter 1 - Firsts
Yuta has a guilty conscience.
He’s known he was in love with you since high school. And aside from the painfulness that comes with an unreciprocated crush, he actually didn’t mind his feelings. He liked being head over heels for you. It was a privilege, he thought, to get to love you, even just to know you.
The two of you have been glued by the hip since birth practically. Your mom’s were best friends and somehow ended up pregnant at the same time, basically raising you two together. It really shouldn’t be a surprise the way he feels, after having you by his side all this time, how could he ever love someone else as deeply as he does you?
You were popular in high school, and people would only really acknowledge him in the way it related to you. “Y/n’s friend”. “That guy thats always with Y/n.” And, Yutas personal favorite, “Y/n’s boyfriend.” That one was always used in a way to tease you, and you would always refute it and scold whoever said it. But deep down it made him happy to be called that, and maybe that’s why. Maybe that’s why at some point he started doing things in the hallways or the lunchroom to enforce that rumor. Very subtle physical affection that he was known for doing with you at this point. Fingers gently entangling with yours while the two of you talk about something by the window. It’s so gentle that you don’t even notice or mind, but anyone who was looking at you could see that you’re obviously holding hands, albeit weakly. The need to always be touching you in some way when you were together. Shoulders slumped into eachother while sitting together, pinkies wrapped while you sit on the school grass with friends, his hands grazing against yours when you walk side by side. He could never get enough of the little things. And yeah he did it for the rumors, so everyone would know that even if it wasn’t official, you were his. You were claimed already. No one could be this close with you and get away with it. But when you two were alone it was even better.
Yuta's love language was most definitely physical touch. You’ve always known that he likes to be physical, and that was just his way of showing he liked you. Platonically, in your eyes. When you’d hang out at each others house, he was still always connected with you in some way. Head in your lap as the two of you talk about some drama in your class. Arms around you from behind with his head on your shoulder as you finish a level of a game he already died in. Legs entangled in various ways under the kotatsu as you both do homework. It took many forms. It never bothered you luckily, in fact you’d long become accustomed to it. Even as kids Yuta was the same, and your moms used to eat it up and say you two would be married someday, taking a thousand one pictures of you for that reason.
It really was all innocence until sometime in high school when he had developed feelings. His physical affection never changed but the feeling and motive behind it might’ve. And sometimes he quite literally couldn't do some of the stuff he used to do when you were younger, because it would most definitely give him away now.
He’ll never forget the day it really changed for him. Playing video games with his arms around you like normal, but it wasn’t normal this time. His heart was beating, he was nervous. Looking up at you from your shoulder, he couldn’t get over how you look pretty from every angle. How cute were your reactions to every hit of damage you take in the game. Suddenly he’s incredibly aware of where his hands are sitting, how close you are, your warmth, your breathing, how good you smell. Something in his awareness heightens, like the flick of a switch, and he realizes that this is different. Different to what he thought it was. He also realizes how bad that is, and it makes his stomach drop. He went home early that day, but nothing ever changed. Only the way he felt.
After that day Yuta knew he had to be mindful with the way he acted with you, and even in the way he thought of you. He allowed himself to have loving thoughts of you, for they could always be rationalized in someway to be friendly. “You’re so pretty” could be followed by “so I cant believe none of the guys in class have confessed to you yet.” and “You have the most precious laugh” could be backed by “its no wonder why you have so many friends”. Stuff like that. What he wouldn’t allow and actively tried to avoid, were thoughts that could not possibly be platonic in any use of the word. Like sexual thoughts.
It was only natural. After becoming aware of his feelings and with the effects of maturing into a young adult he was bound to have thoughts like this. But he wouldn’t allow it, not even in your absence, in his own privacy. Of course he couldn’t fight sexual urges all together, but he did his very best not to think of you when he was doing something like that. And Yuta was very good at self-discipline, the reason why his test scores are the best in your grade. He was successful in pushing the thoughts away, avoiding seeing you in this new forbidden light. For a long time.
And everything was fine. You never suspected a thing from him, your friendship never changed, and you even ended up enrolling in the same university.
That’s where his trouble started.
College is a totally different experience from high school that he wasn’t quite expecting. And everything has been taking a toll on him lately.
When the two of you first start, everything’s fine. You already know a bunch of freshman from your school, but you’re also easy to make friends with a bunch of other people as well. Yuta mostly stays with your smaller friend group that you two had in highschool. Inumaki and Panda got into the same Uni as well, not to mention the boys ended up living together.
And Yuta has no real issue with you making new friends at all, of course he’s happy for you. You still like to have him with you all the time, even if you don’t have many classes together. So long as he can still have time with you, he’s happy. What starts to bother him is the way the guys around you stare. Men in uni are much different from high school. And most of the guys here have no idea about the rumors of you two, all his years of showing such a thing are now practically worthless. You don’t notice, but he always does. He hated the way they stare, as if undressing you with their disrespectful eyes, grinning and whispering to friends, probably making sly comments he can’t hear when they shouldn’t even have the right to take the slightest glance in your direction.
“Yuta?” You call to him from where you sit next to him in the dining hall. He just now realizes that he’d been staring down these two guys a couple tables away in his peripheral vision.
“Huh? Yeah?” He calls back to you, turning to look at you now.
“Is something wrong?“
“Huh? No, nothing.”
“Oh, okay… well, did you hear what I said?” You ask and his heart sinks a little. He wasn’t listening, he didnt even realize you were talking to him.
“No.. I’m sorry. Tell me again?” He offers, giving you his full attention now. You give him a smile at hearing his usual sweet tone of voice when he speaks to you. You love everything about the way he is with you.
“I was talking about a party I got invited to-“
“You were invited to a party?? But-“
“Yu, let me finish.” You tell him before he can start lecturing you about it being dangerous or something, as you’re positive he was going to. He pouts a little. Cute.
“It’s for freshman. An upperclassman invited me so I think it’s for all years, but I guess it’s more of a welcoming party.” You explain and Yuta only frowns more. Since when did you make friends with an upperclassman? He’s never seen you with one. And the thought of you being at a party with a bunch of drunk guys or just drunk people in general makes him nervous.
His fingers automatically find yours under the table. Without thinking he finds a way to connect with you. It may have been to calm himself down, or maybe to get your attention again so you could see that he’s clearly uncertain about this idea. He couldn’t say. It does get your attention though, and you give him a look of understanding as your fingers intertwine a bit more.
“I know college parties can be kinda crazy and all that, and I wouldn’t want to go alone anyways even if they weren’t. They said I could invite whoever I wanted so.. You guys wanna come?”
“Sure, I’m down.” Inumaki says, and Yuta had almost forgot his friends were there for a second.
“Oh, yeah! Our first college party! I’ll be there.” Panda grins and you smile at their agreement. Your gaze returns to Yuta again, and his to yours.
“I’m.. not really into parties but..” He starts and you look like you’re anticipating his agreement. “If you wanna go, of course I’ll go with you.”
You smile at him, sweet as ever. But you do feel a bit bad about the possibility that you’re forcing him. As much as you want him there, you don’t want him to be miserable going with you.
“You don’t have to, y’know. Just because I’m going. I wont make you.” You remind him and he smiles too now, nodding.
“I know. I want to.” He reassures you and you feel relieved at that. “Plus, I want to make sure you guys are all safe. It’s better to go with a group to stuff like this and have someone to look over everyone.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.” Inumaki tells him. “I can’t drink.”
Right, Inumaki has a chronic condition that makes his throat very sensitive, of course he wouldn’t be allowed alcohol.
“And I have a high tolerance! I’ll be fine.” Panda informs too, and you all look at him like you’re suspicious of how he even knows that. He just smiles.
“Well, still. Being in one place with a ton of drunk people is dangerous on its own.” Yuta says anyways, going back to picking at his food.
You give him a knowing look.
“You can just admit you wanna come and have fun. It’s okay, we wont judge you.” You tease and the other two chuckle a bit.
“Well, maybe.” Yuta gives after a second of embarrassment by your call out. “But I’m mostly going for the other reason.”
You laugh at how cute he is, squeezing his hand before letting it go to hug him. He blushes in concession with both your adorable laugh and your warm embrace. His two friend wiggle their eyebrows at him as your back is to them and Yuta rolls his eyes at them. They are always contempt to tease him in silence. Yuta never even told them about how he feels, but he knows they just know. And he doesn’t mind. As long as it doesn’t get to you.
Agreeing to go to this party with you was probably both the best and worst thing he could’ve done. It would’ve been better if he could’ve talked you out of coming, but he knew from the beginning that wouldn’t be an option, and he wouldn’t want to control you.
When you first get there, the four of you are a bit awkward. Panda offers to take your first ever shot with you and somehow Yuta even agrees to do “just the one”. You take the hit pretty well, but you all burst out laughing when Yuta makes the most disgusted expression you’ve ever seen on him.
It’s sweet, even if embarrassing, the two of you having “first” moments together like this. It’s not long before your two friends are nowhere to be found, and Yuta can assume why they left you two alone. It’s also not long after that you’re convincing him to take another couple of shots with you, even though he hated the first one, he loved having these moments with you. He’d do anything with you. Even follow you to the center of the room to dance when he’s always known he’s not the best dancer.
When you’re dancing, quite a few people come up to you to talk, even just to say hello. You really know a lot of people. But it doesn’t bother him at all because even with everyone that comes by, you never once let go of his hand. And when your attention isn’t on him, he can freely admire you as much as he wants without having to be cautious about the way he looks at you.
He knows the alcohol is catching up to him a little when he starts to get needy. Any kind of connection with you is enough for him on a normal day, but right now he has the urge to be all over you, and it’s taking everything in him to keep it subtle.
You’re still talking to some girl he’s maybe seen a few times— he can’t recall, when he decides he needs your attention again. He pulls your hand towards him, but it doesn’t deter you from the loud conversation you’re having, much more than a quick glance at him. On the inside it feels like he could start whining, begging for you to look at him, be with him in this moment. The music isn’t helping either, some seductive rnb song with vulgar lyrics pumping in his ears. He does something he’s never done before, without much thought to it either. His free hand reaches out and grabs your waist, gripping you tightly and pulling you towards him. You gasp and look at him with surprise. Even more surprised when you see the longing expression on his face. Your friend seemingly understands and leaves you two be, to Yutas relief.
He can’t stand the embarrassment he feels with the way you’re looking at him, but he also can’t bare to be apart from you at all anymore. He pulls you in, his arms wrapping around you, hands resting in a dangerous area. Any lower and this couldn’t be considered platonic at all. He bends over a bit so his head can nuzzle into your neck. He wants to feel you, all of you, even more than this. But he stops here.
“Yu…?” You say in a bit of a confused tone, right in his ear. A chill runs down his spine. Your hands had already come up to wrap around him as well, rubbing his back in a way that made him feel so warm.
“Mmve you.” He mumbles and he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore.
“Hm?” You ask for him to clarify, voice smooth like honey, but he doesn’t say anything else. The two of you stay like that, starting to rock to the music when it’s clear that this is not just a hug.
It’s not like you look out of place at all, there are plenty of people around you doing something similar, even straight up making out.
“Yu.. look at me.” You tell him and he can’t help but comply. His head lifts up from your shoulder and he stands up a bit straighter to look at you.
“You okay??” You ask him sweetly and his heart races looking into your eyes. It’s too much for him. This is all too much.
He nods anyways, eyes closing and forehead coming to rest against yours.
He thinks you must be at least a little drunk too by the way your hands start to caress his back and sides. But he doesn’t even think about what you might be thinking about him being so clingy like this. He knows you don’t mind, that you understand, you always understand him. He loves you for it.
“You drunk already? Hmm??” You say and he doesn’t have to be looking at you to hear the smirk in your voice.
“I mean I expected it but you’re really a lightweight, huh?” You say to him and this time he opens his eyes to see you smiling.
“Of course I am.. this is my first time drinking.” Yuta says in basically a whine. Your heart races.
The thing Yuta doesn’t know, is that you’re obviously just as needy for him right now. You don’t think the alcohol has really gotten to you that much, and thank god for that honestly. But you love seeing him like this, it’s making you feel all types of things about him.
There’s a silence as he frowns. You tilt your head as if saying “what?” to him.
“I need to use the bathroom.” He tells you so bluntly that it makes you laugh. But before you know it you’re leading him to the bathroom, guiding him by the hand. Truth is, you don’t know where it is either, you’ve never been here. But you feel a sort of need to take charge for some reason. You find it pretty quickly anyways, and tell him you’ll wait outside.
Relieving himself proves difficult after having gotten half hard from what just happened. He’s lucky you didnt feel it, or maybe you did and you didn’t say anything. Who knows? Eventually he figures it out and gets back outside.
His heart sinks when he doesn’t see you. Glancing around frantically, he tries to look for any sight of you. Red, you were wearing red, that and any of your features that he’s so familiar with would be impossible to miss. He starts pushing past people, anxiously looking for where you might’ve gone. It’s maybe 20 minutes later when he finally finds you, in the kitchen. After the relief washes over him, he realizes that the anxiety looking for you definitely sobered him up already.
He wasn’t able to see at first, someone blocking his view, but as he moves further into the kitchen, he catches it. A guy talking to you, but not just any guy, the guy from the lunch room the other day.
His dirty mouth probably having said disgusting things about you—that you’re totally unaware of, yapping away at you as you nod at him.
No. He wont have it.
He continues to push past people, small apologizes leaving his mouth all the same even with all the anger running through him right now. You’re surprised when he grabs your wrist, even though he’s still gentle about it, it comes so suddenly.
“Oh! Yuta, you-“
“Where’d you go?” He asks immediately, as if scolding you.
“Huh? Where’d I.. oh! My friend pulled me away I- oh but I told someone waiting in line to tell you where I went did they not tell you?”
“No. No one told me.” He states coldly and you frown.
“Oh. Sorry..” You say but realize that now he’s glaring at the guy you were just talking to. “Oh, yeah, this is-“
“Don’t care.” He mutters and before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back towards the living room from where he came in. His pull isn’t harsh, you could easily refute, but you follow him anyways.
He leads you away until you’re in the corner of the room, away from the speakers where it’s a bit quieter.
“Wha was that? Kinda rude, Yu.” You say, confused, and now significantly more disoriented. Your friends had pulled you away for a drinking game, and Yuta was in the bathroom for a bit.
“You said you would wait outside.” He says, almost like pouting, but his expression is stern and serious.
“Yeah but you were taking foreverrr.” You tease, giving him a silly smile. “What were you even doing in there, huh?”
“That doesn’t matter, you scared me! I told you places like this are dangerous for-“ He starts to lecture you, but cuts himself off to focus on you for a second. It finally starts to click for him that you aren’t in the same state he left you in. Your eyes are lazy, kind of wandering. Your body swaying and unbalanced. And just from knowing how your body language usually is, he knows something is really off.
“Did you drink more while I was in the bathroom?” He asks.
“Yeah.” You tell him honestly, not seeing any reason to hide it.
“How much?”
“Ummmm….”
“You don’t know?!”
“I’m thinking!!”
You put your finger to your lips and start working your brain to remember, counting off the number in your head.
“Y/n, you’re scaring me.” Yuta says as it takes you longer than he thinks it should to answer.
“It was like.. four.. actually, five.”
“Five what?”
“Shots.”
“Of what??”
“Um.. alcohol?”
“You don’t even know what they were giving you?” Yuta stares at you in complete disbelief.
“Well, they didn’t tell me, so..” You mumble a reply, feeling guilty now like you must have made a mistake. “Does it really matter?”
“Y/n!” Yuta says as if scolding you, again.
“What? It was a game, we were all just having fun!!” You retort.
“You can’t just take any drink anyone gives you! I cant believe I have to tell you that.” He says, crossing his arms.
“They’re not just anyone they’re my friends!” You retort again, frowning at him.
“I’m your friend. You hardly know these people!” He argues without hesitation and something in you hurts at those words.
“Yu…”
“And what’s in that, then?” He inquires, pointing down, and— up until now you totally forgot the red cup in your hand. Oh, make that 6(?) drinks you guess.
“It’s mango juice and… vodka.” You tell him warily, knowing you have no clue what kind of alcohol it actually is. But you can’t lie to his face, you know you can’t. “…Probably.”
“Probably?!”
“Yu!! Stop worrying! Look, I’m fine! I’m safe! And I have you here, so iss okay.” You tell him genuinely and Yuta’s heart pangs. Knowing you have so much security and trust in him to know you’ll be safe as long as he’s here, makes him incessantly happy. But he just doesn’t trust the people here, and god forbid he lose you again.
“Y/n, let’s go home.” He tells you as nicely as he can.
“What? No, I’m having fun.” You tell him to his dismay and he frowns. He really doesn’t want to argue with you.
“Please. The alcohol you had probably hasn’t even really caught up with you yet. We should get you home before it does.”
“Yu, I’m not leaving. I came to have a good time.” You tell him again firmly and he basically pouts at this. “Cmon. I wanna have a good time with you too. Let’s go dance again.”
You entice him, your hand finding his for the millionth time, that look in your eyes as you stare up at him. You have to know what you do to him, right?
“…Alright.” He agrees and your smile spreads into a grin, practically jumping in place with excitement and victory at convincing him.
“But!” He interrupts, putting his finger up and making you go still again. “No more drinking for the night.”
“Whattt?” You frown and protest as he takes the cup that was basically empty anyways out of your hands.
“You’ve had a lot already for your first time and I don’t want you to get sick. Let’s just hang out for the rest of the time, okay?”
You pout as he waits for your compliance to his terms. You think about how likely it would be for him to actually carry you out of here if you didn’t.
“Promise me? Please?” He says sweetly, looking into your eyes as if further asking with them. You cant say no to him like this.
“Fine.” You tell him and you adore the way he smiles afterward. “For you.”
After that, the two of you are back in the middle of where everyone else is dancing. This time he isn’t really intoxicated at all and maybe that’s why he’s not so needy. Your other friends come to join with you, even inumaki and panda as well. He sees you having a good time and that’s enough for him to have a good time too. Though he supposes he’s also just having fun dancing and being young with everyone like this.
The night about peaks there.
After dancing a bit, you lean into Yuta’s ear to tell him you’re gonna go get water for the two of you. You’re basically yelling since you guys are dancing pretty close to the speakers this time. When Yuta finally understands you he shoots you a concerned look. You roll your eyes.
“You trust meee, right?” You say again into his ear. He nods without hesitating. Of course he trusts you.
“I’m just getting water, promise.” You tell him again. “I’ll be back.”
Before he can offer to get it instead, you’re gone.
He watches you go, snaking your way through people toward the kitchen. He feels a bit awkward with you gone now, like it’s not as fun in your absence. Still he watches your friends and his dance along together, and he can’t help smiling at them.
After a minute he feels a hand on his arm, and he looks over, thinking it’s you. It’s a girl he’s never seen before. Or at least he thinks he hasn’t. She’s mouthing something at him, probably talking at normal volume, but he can’t hear obviously.
“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you!” He shouts over the music and she beckons him with her hand to come closer. He complies, not really thinking much of it. She must have something to tell him. Maybe it’s about you?
When he does lean in, shes so close he can feel her breathing. It’s weird, being this close to someone else and it almost feels wrong. She just starts a normal conversation with him, asking where he’s from and what year he is. It seems normal and Yuta talks along with her, thinking it a little strange to be having a normal conversation somewhere so inconvenient. But he’s polite about it. She keeps talking, and all Yuta can think about is where you are. Would it take this long to get water? No, but, he trusts you. He doesn’t need to worry.
“Are you okay?” The girl asks and he snaps back to the current moment again.
“H-huh? Oh, yeah.” He yells back, as they’ve been doing for a few minutes.
She says something like he’s very cute, or that’s what he thinks she said. When it’s clear he didn’t properly hear her, she pulls him close, forcefully by his shirt. It’s when she starts saying things in his ear that are obviously flirting now that he finally sees you out of the corner of his eye. You look shocked but, hey, you do have two cups of water with you.
You start talking to the girl, back and forth, the two of you talking quickly about something he’s not quite hearing.
Something something- you. Something something- your boyfriend? Something something- just leave something alone.
Then they start getting louder, and he starts to hear better. This is also where he starts to realize you’re not just talking to her, you’re arguing with her.
“Why do you even care? _____ jealous?” The other girl says, parts of what she’s saying still kind of blank. The two of them are clearly angry now. Even your friends are starting to wonder whats going on.
“Excuse me? Who even are you? You ____ and then ____?!”
From there it all happens so quickly, Yuta barely has time to process it all. He knows how you get when you’re angry, he’s seen you argue with girls and even guys from your school before. Hell, even when you were kids you used to get into fights with other kids who would bully him until they stopped. It’s not that you look for a fight, or that you’re easy to get upset at all, but when you do you’re a hundred percent with it. You don’t waver or back down, as long as you believe you’re in the right. But, what could this girl have possibly done to make you so mad? And what’s gonna happen when how you usually are in an arguement is boosted with the effects of being intoxicated?
He has no time to prevent it at all. Voices get louder, you both get closer. Then he hears the other girl say “Oh, why don’t we test that then, huh?”
She turns to him, calls something out to him, but he just continues to stand there, very confused. Suddenly her hands are reaching up for him, taking his face in her hands and pulling him towards her own. Again, this is all happening too fast for Yuta to process. He only realizes shes about to kiss him when all at once the girl is now drenched in water, some of the splash bouncing off and hitting him as well. She freezes to look down at herself in shock, and Yuta stares with eyes wide. He’s too late to look at you because when he does, you’re already lunging at her, shoving her towards the wall with no remorse.
He’s quick to act this time as you’re about to go after her for more, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back as you actively squirm and yell for him to let you go. It’s to his dismay when he sees the other girl coming towards you now rather than leaving. Your other friends join in to help in holding the both of you back. It’s a bit of a struggle to get you two apart, but before he knows it, Yuta and the other boys have successfully gotten you away. Which happened to be upstairs, since the girls were taking the other girl outside.
Thankfully it didn’t cause too big of a scene. People around had stopped to look and see what was going on, but once the fight was prevented, everything went back to normal.
“What the hell was that?! What happened?!” Panda shouts at you as you’re still panting from all the struggle to get out of the hold of the three boys that now stand around you in some random bedroom. You’re on the bed, and Yuta sits next to you. You don’t even want to look at him.
“What did she say??” Inumaki adds.
“Are you okay?” Yuta also adds, sweetly more concerned about that than anything.
“I’m fine.” You say in a tone that indicates you are infact not.
“Oh, sure, answer Yuta but not us.” Panda says, rolling his eyes. “Can we get an explanation?”
“Guys. Cmon. That was obviously a lot. She needs time to process.” Yuta says in your defense and it’s honestly hard to stay mad at him, though you’re not even quite sure why you are. You’re feeling a lot of things right now.
The three of them go back and forth a bit and you’re not having it, already upset enough.
“Can you guys jush leave me alone!!” You shout and again, you’re not even sure why. You don’t want to be alone.
“…What?” Yuta says, almost like in disbelief, and you turn to see his sad expression. Something on your heart tugs. You don’t think you’ve ever asked Yuta to leave you alone. He was always around to help you even in your lowest times, even when it was the two of you who fought.
You hear a sigh from Inumaki.
“Alright, we get it, we’ll leave you two alone. Lovebirds.” He says, muttering the last part. You blush slightly, they totally read through you just now.
“We expect an explanation later though!” Panda calls on their way out. The two of you stare at the door for a moment after.
When Yuta finally turns back at you, he’s genuinely surprised to see you look so angry. Were you mad at him?
“What’s… going on? What happened back there?” He asks you gently, cautiously.
“Yuta you are so clueless!!” You shout at him suddenly, making him jump.
“H-huh?!”
“You didn’t notice?! She was flirting with you!” You say and push his chest, too gentle to actually be real anger.
“What?? I mean.. well I kind of noticed, eventually…” he says sheepishly, a bit confused. “Why does it matter?”
He watches your face heat up and you quickly look away from him.
“Oh my god,” you say, putting your face in your hands. “You make me feel crazy.”
“Huh?” Yuta mumbles again and then he suddenly remembers that you’re still drunk. He goes to touch your arm but you snap back around at him before he can.
“She was trying to kiss you!!” You shout and he nods in surprise.
“I know!” He confirms and his heart speeds up when he realizes that was clearly not the thing to say. You suddenly look sad instead of mad, and it breaks his heart.
“I-It’s not like I wanted her to. It happened so fast I-“
“Yeah right, when I got there she was all over you! You’ve always been clueless!! It’s like this any time any girl flirts with you! In highschool too.”
…what?
When Yuta looks back on tonight, it was obvious that girl was flirting with him, sure, even if he did notice kind of late. But high school? He never had girls who flirted with him, not that he can think of.
“What.. do you mean? I was never hit on in high school.”
“Yeah, that’s what you think.” You say, poking his chest. “That’s my point.”
This is troubling for him as he starts to really analyze anytime any girl might of flirted with him in the past. No matter how hard he thinks, he can’t even think of one.
Then he realizes something. What… does this have to do with anything? So you were mad that that girl was flirting with him. Got that. But why? There’s really only one answer right? But there’s no way… it has to be in a platonic way, right? Jealousy.
He snaps out of his thoughts suddenly when he hears a familiar sniffle, and his awareness lights up, like an instinct. You’re crying. You’re crying right next to him, and it seems like it’s his fault. His heart aches and he immediately pulls you into an embrace, quietly cooing soft affirming words and apologies, rubbing your back. He remembers AGAIN, the fact that you are very drunk, and of course your actions are not going to completely make sense to him or anyone. People do unreasonable things when they’re drunk right? Things they’d never think of doing sober. So, he decides to just comfort you and assure you rather than argue or try to understand anymore.
You stay like this, gently crying into his chest and gripping his shirt as he holds you, his chin resting on your head. He knows exactly when you need this kind of comforting, and he’s very happy to give it to you. You go quiet after a few minutes, and he doesn’t pull back until you quietly call his name.
“Yuta.” You say, slightly muffled.
“Mm?” He hums as he softly pulls back to look at you.
You look up at him, eyes wet and face tinted pink, an absolute painting of purity underneath him.
“We should kiss.” You tell him, completely genuine.
“h-hUH?!” He squeaks and the crack in his voice does not help his face that immediately turned red at your words.
“You don’t want to?” You say sadly and this feels like some kind of test.
“No, I!- I mean… why… do you say that?” His words leave his mouth in a pathetic way that he hates, as if betraying him.
“It’s just…” You start sheepishly, and now you have to look away, embarrassed. “We’ve been together since we were kids.. we’ve done everything together. All the firsts. So…”
He watches as you breathe in and turn to look at him again, hanging on to every word you’re saying.
“Doesn’t it make sense that we should be eachothers first kiss too? It’d be weird to give it to anyone else… and you almost had someone take your first kiss tonight… that can happen too, so…”
You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk. You’re drunk.
He has to hammer that into his head to not lose himself here. But even repeating it to himself over and over, he’s leaning in, and you’re leaning in. You’re so close, something he’s always wanted deep down is right in front of him, teasing, taunting him.
It takes everything in him to pull back again.
“I can’t…” He says, his eyes clenched shut.
“Why?”
“Because you’re drunk.”
“And?”
“And… it would be wrong…” he continues, really trying his best to keep composure here, and somewhat failing. His eyes shoot open when he feels you climb over him, coming to sit in his lap where your legs stratal him. Now this is something you two have never done. Your body is so warm on top of his, and your hands too when they come to rest against his chest. One hand comes up to brush a hair out of his eyes, then falling down to caress his cheek. He swallows hard.
What are you doing?
“This is about me?” You ask him curiously. Your sober self would be shocked by how easily you’re about to do something you’ve always dreamed of doing to Yuta specifically. You want to kiss him, of course, but you also want to tease him. You love to do so on a normal day, but you’ve been given quite the special opportunity with the current situation and your rise in confidence thanks to the drinks earlier.
“Yes.. b-but this is-“
“If it’s about me, then let’s just do it. I’m practically sober.” You lie to him, which you never do. You really want this.
“You’re not. You’re drunk, I can tell.” He calls your bluff even in his flustered state. You’re caught. You can’t really argue with him on that. Instead you bring your head down to lay on his shoulder, resting there for a moment. He sighs quietly in relief, thinking you’d given in, his arms coming in to hold you again. There’s a moment of peace.
A loud gasp leave his lips suddenly when you start pressing your lips to his neck. Softly, you place one by one, moving around to make sure to give him plenty. You feel like you’re on fire when you hear him start to moan at this. You knew he’d be the type to moan and whine, you know him. You want to hear more. You cant stop yourself.
“Ah.. Y/n..” he breathes as you kiss up to the nape of his ear and along his collar bone. You even come up to give his cheek a couple of pecks the way you think you must’ve when you were really little. My how times change, and yet not at all. All he can think about is how soft your lips are, trying to fight against is own pleasure.
“Y/n..” he says, strained, like he’s pleading you. “Really, we can’t do this… Please, stop.”
At his specific request for you to stop, you do. You pull back and look at him. His face is flushed like crazy and he looks so lusted. Yet he said no, and his hands stay put on your back. In fact, he’s not moved a muscle at all since you climbed onto him.
“You really don’t want to?” You ask, almost sadly.
“I already told you..” he trails off weakly, not able to look at you in the eyes. His face is really burning up. Honestly even he’s impressed with how much he’s able to hold back right now. Literally any other circumstance. Anywhere, anytime, he would give into you. But he would hate himself if tomorrow you said this was a mistake, or god forbid got angry at him for letting you do something in a state where your minds not right like this. You trusted him to keep you safe, and that includes from himself. He is a man after all, childhood best friend or otherwise. He’s doing this for you essentially, even though it’s ironically the opposite of what you want in the moment.
“If you’d rather have your first time with someone else, you can just say that.” You say, stubborn, frowning at him. What first are you talking about here?
“You know it’s not that-“
“Say you don’t want to and I’ll drop it.” You say sternly, giving him the hard choice. You don’t know how you got stuck on this, or even if your reasoning or actions were making sense. All you know is you want to kiss your best friend, and you want him to want it too.
He groans, almost a whine and you feel him squeeze your sides. You get excited for a moment, thinking he’ll give in.
“Fine... I… I don’t want to.” He says finally, and looking you in the eyes when he does so you know that he’s serious this time. He can’t even believe it himself, he knows that’s a huge lie. But it’s the only way to get you to stop apparently, and it’s for your own good. Plus, this is something he hasn’t even allowed himself to fantasize about, and now it’s happening right in front of him. He’s a little scared of what this might do to him, and more importantly, your relationship. He’s also unsure if he has the self control to stop after kissing you once. Cross that first line and there’s no telling where this will end up. Maybe that’s the real reason he knows he has to hold back for your sake. One kiss wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
You go from looking hurt, and then back to angry. You push yourself up off him, coming to stand.
“Fine. Then, maybe I should go get that girl. Since I obviously ruined what you two had going on.” You shoot at him, turning towards the door. Apparently being drunk really amplifies your jealousy, which is new to you. Usually you’re very good at hiding or completely ignoring it.
“Y/n, that’s crazy. Why would I want to kiss some girl I hardly know?”
“Well you clearly weren’t against it!” You say, turning to him again with your arms crossed.
“I didn’t notice! I don’t want to kiss her!” He insists.
“Whatever!” You head for the door again, hand taking the knob. You feel him grab your other hand.
“Y/n-“
“Let go!” You shout and try to pull your arms from his grasp to no avail.
“Please. Just stop. Listen to me.” He pleads, ignoring your squirming to pull you back to him. You finally look up at him, annoyed.
“You’re my best friend. I’ve had you for as long as I can remember, and you’re right. We’ve done everything together. It would be weird to have my first with anyone else, so… I actually think, what you said.. I think it’s a good idea. I want to do it.” He tells you quickly so that you’ll hear him out. You look at him a little surprised.
“Wha..? But you just-“
“I’ll tell you what…” He stops you before you can retaliate. “If you wake up tomorrow, when you’re sober, and you still want that first kiss.. I’ll do it.”
He tells you this and you immediately believe him. You know he will, he never goes back on his word. Still, your stubborn expression doesn’t waver much.
“I promise.” He says, squeezing your hand and giving you a genuine look. That does it. You let out a sigh.
Truth is, ever since standing up, you’ve felt kind of dizzy and gross. It’s been hard to even stay focused on what you were mad about.
You lean forward, dropping into Yuta’s chest, surprising him a little.
“I don’t feel good.” You say weakly and he chuckles.
“Let’s leave, yeah?” He suggests and you nod, following as he finally opens the door and leads you down the hall. He only stops in front of the stairs when you stop, pulling his arm by staying in place. He looks back at you, confused, but understands almost immediately after seeing you. He realizes now that he must’ve underestimated just how “not good” you felt.
He takes you back towards the bathroom, gently, but with urgency. You make it there and luckily there’s no line either. He guides you in with a hand on your back, shutting and locking the door after you.
Honestly you don’t know why but you’re embarrassed by what he’s about to see. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in terrible states before, sick, or sobbing, or depressed. But this is just, humiliating for some reason, especially after what just happened. Though it could be worse.
He of course pulls your hair back as you let it out into the toilet. He hates hearing your sounds of pain and he’s pretty sure he hears you crying as well. He wishes he could help more, but once he thinks you’re done he just gently rubs your back for a while.
“Sorry..” you mumble to him without moving and he shakes his head immediately.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He reassures you.
I love you. I would do this for you everytime. Is what he wishes he could say. And he so badly wants to think about everything that just happened in that bedroom, to replay it in his mind and ask questions. But he knows to save it for later. Your condition is more important right now.
Eventually people outside need to use the restroom, and it seems like you’re not going to throw up anymore, so Yuta helps you up and outside. But even then, you feel too weak to stand and you decide to sit against the hallway wall. He takes a seat next to you without question. He sits with you for a while, even after your head falls onto his shoulder and he can tell that you’re asleep.
Panda and Inumaki find you and suggest leaving, so Yuta knows he has to wake you. He shakes you slightly by the shoulder.
“Hey..” he says softly when you groan and blink your eyes a couple times hazily.
“Think you can stand?” He asks you.
You groan and nuzzle further into his shoulder.
“Mdont wantto.” You mumble into him and he smiles.
“Alright, I’m gonna carry you then, okay?” He tells you and you just hum in response.
Eventually you’re on Yuta’s back, walking outside around your school campus to get to his apartment. Most of its a blur as you fall in and out of sleep through the whole walk.
Yuta tells the two very eager-to-know boys about what he thinks happened with you and that girl, but not much about what came after with him. They say the same things his brain was trying to tell him and he kept ignoring. They say it’s obvious. That theres no such thing as “platonic jealousy” like that. But he’s still in denial.
“I’m sure it was only a platonic thing.” He says, trying to convince more than his friends, looking over and checking on you every few seconds to make sure you’re still out. “We’ve never been romantic with anyone so shes probably just nervous about what would happen. I would be too.”
They don’t believe him, and he’s not sure if he does either. But he has to. Because if tonight meant anything else, then what does that mean for you two?
Yuta decided a long time ago that he would never confess, not unless he was 100% sure of your feelings. For fear of losing this privilege to know you, to get to have you around, even if just platonically. He couldn’t bear it. Things had to stay the same.
When you get back to his apartment, he brings you straight to his bed, ready to let you sleep there and find his own place on the couch.
“Do you want to shower first? I can lend you some clean clothes.” He suggests softly as you both sit in the quiet of the room. He brushes your hair gently behind your ear so that it’s out of your face.
“You’re just saying that cus you don’t want me to get all my sweat and stuff on your sheets.” You accuse, but he can tell it’s not hostile at all. You’re not mad anymore.
“I don’t care about that, I can just do laundry tomorrow. But I think it’d feel better for you that way.” He tells you honestly and you sigh. He knows you don’t want to.
“I just wanted to remind you that you can, you don’t have to. But you know what’s mine is yours here, right? If you need anything just go ahead.” He says sweetly and you hum, finally moving to lay down, resting your head on his pillow. It smells like Yuta. You nuzzle into it further.
“Okay.. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.” He tells you with a chuckle.
“Wait.” You say before he can get to the door. He turns to you.
“Mwhere are you goin?” You mumble sleepily. His heart melts.
“Just to the living room. I’ll sleep on the couch so don’t worry, okay?”
“Come here.” You tell him bluntly and he does. When he gets to the bed you pat the spot next to you. His face flushes.
“What? You want me to sleep here??”
“Mhm.”
“With you?”
“Just lay down, Yu.. I wanna sleep.” You groan, too exhausted to be explaining or convincing. You just want him next to you.
And then he’s laying next to you.
This shouldn’t be awkward, you guys have napped together before. But that was a long time ago, and things feel different now. He’s so unsure of where to put his hands or how to position himself until you decide for him. You reach out and pull yourself into him, arms wrapping around him and legs tangling. He naturally just curls around you all the same, feeling your breath on his chest as you easily lull into sleep like this. It’s a bit hard to think about anything but how soft and warm you are for a little while, hot and flustered from how intimate this feels and scared to mess it up. But, he does feel more comfortable after. How could he not? The way you sleep so peacefully in his arms sends him off to sleep not long after you.
The morning after that night is the start of his guilty conscience.
When he wakes up sporting a full hard-on, he’s incredibly glad you’re not in a position to have noticed it. He had the craziest dream about you, and waking up face to face to you afterwards could not make him feel anymore mortified and embarrassed. How could he? Have a wet dream about you when you’re sleeping RIGHT next to him.
And the thoughts he’s having about you right now as he watches you so innocently sleep, blissfully unaware to his thoughts.
It’s horrible.
It’s exciting. No, it’s perverted.
Even with all his self control in previous years, you can’t really control what you dream about, can you? Sure, he’s had dreams like these about you before. But he’s read on the internet that people have wet dreams about random people too, people they’ve never even considered like that! So he doesn’t count it.
But it’s when he’s sliding out of bed to take care of things in the bathroom, trying to relieve himself to anything but the thought of you. He just can’t think of anything else good enough. He wants to think about you so bad. The way you were all over him last night, so many opportunities where he could’ve told you how he feels. He could’ve told you want he wanted from you so badly instead of denying it.
When he was tipsy, body pressed against you and music pumping in his ears. His face tucked into your neck, breathing in your scent clearer than anything and feeling your hands stretched around his back. He even could’ve told you then, that he loved you. How badly he wanted you in that moment too, his desires bubbling up so bad that he could practically beg for you. And maybe you would’ve at least humored him, giggled at his drunken daze and been so gracious as to grant him more of you.
Or what would’ve happened if he had let you do what you wanted? In that bedroom, alone just the two of you, with you in his lap. Would you really have stopped after one kiss?
And then snippets from his dream start to cross his mind. You in the same dress last night that he tried so incredibly hard not to think about too much, how it hugged every curve of your body and made your breasts look so nice. And in that dream, the dirty things you said to him between kisses on his neck while you stroked his length.
“Does that feel good, Yu? You wanna cum for me?”
“Yes.. ffucyes..” He mumbles to himself as his pace gets faster. Somehow it ended up like this, not sure when he even started to touch himself, but far past the headspace to care. He feels his climax already, the thought of you making him so unbelievably excited.
In his mind you’re on top of him, bouncing on his cock in all your glory in that beautiful dress that you love. And he could admire anything else right now but all he wants to see is the look on your face. He wants to see how good he can make you feel, not holding back anything at all.
“Fuck, Yu… That feels so good.. I love you..” You’d whine for him and he can feel his pleasure spilling over.
“Y/n… godfuck.. I love you, I love you.” He chants to himself as quietly as he can manage as his hips start to jerk up and stutter. His climax hits and normally he’d be ready to catch his load in his hands, but it rips through him so urgently and suddenly that it manages to catch him offguard.
He stares at the scene in front of him, the mess he made. His breathing is shaky and uneven. His heartbeat doesn’t slow as he starts to realize what he just did. He just jerked off thinking about you, shamelessly, while you’re literally a room away. How could he? What would you think of him if you found out about this? You’d probably think he’s a huge pervert and never talk to him again, right?
You always understood him, but this is unforgivable.
The guilt eats him alive, even after he’s cleaned up and started making breakfast. Trying to distract himself with tasks and chores, he can’t even bring himself to go back to his room and face you as he keeps thinking about the awful thoughts his mind willingly conjured about you. There’s no excuse now. And even in his guilt, he can’t stop thinking about how good that felt. He’s never felt that good thinking or looking at anything else when pleasuring himself. This is bad. He could get addicted to this. He wants to do it again right now, actually. Is that horrible?
“Yu?” Your voice startles him so bad that he jumps, almost throwing the frying pan in his hold. He turns to see your still fogged-with-sleep self standing before him. You’re still in that dress.
“H-hey. You’re up! I’m… making breakfast. Are you hungry?” He says, nervous for some reason. Like you’d be able to tell immediately just by looking at him what he’s done, smell the pervertedness and deceit on him.
“Mm.. That sounds nice.” You just smile and then let out a small yawn. You’re so adorable. What has he done? “I’m gonna shower first, is that okay?”
Another wave of anxiety rushes through him as he starts to overthink whether or not he cleaned up enough in there. Which is dumb, because he literally scrubbed any evidence possible off the floor with diligence. But maybe you’d find something anyways.
“Oh.. um.. yeah, go ahead. You know I don’t mind.” He says after maybe a little too long of a pause.
He waits for you to come out again with breakfast laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He mindlessly scrolls on his phone to keep his thoughts busy with something, anything else.
When you step out again, you’re wearing one of his t-shirts he almost never wears and seemingly his boxers as well, though he can’t see them very well from how far the shirt falls. He has to act like he’s reading something very interesting on his phone to avoid looking at you, his face blushing. This should be just a regular morning for you two and yet why does it feel like like you just-
“Fuck, I needed that shower! I feel so much better” You tell him as you take a seat by his side.
He smiles, putting his phone down now.
“I’m glad.” He watches you sip down some of the water in front of you, eyes shamefully trained on your lips. “And.. how are you feeling?”
“I feel fine! Don’t worry. I think I probably puked up all the alcohol in my system last night. If anything I’m just hungry. And thirsty.” You tell him as you poke your fork into a piece of pancake on your plate, and then catching yourself. “Oh. Sorry, that’s kinda gross to say right before we eat. Thank you for the food by the way.”
You look at him and smile so sweetly that it makes Yuta forget about all the thoughts plaguing him for a moment. He laughs at your words.
“You’re welcome. But you should eat as much as you can before the other two get out here and devour it all.” He jokes and starts eating as well. You let out a small laugh and nod in agreement.
“You’re right, I forgot they live here.”You say and you’re only half kidding. “That’s why you made so much, huh? I got worried you were expecting me to finish this, but I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Yuta laughs and shakes his head, taking another forkful of eggs. After that the conversation kinda dies as the two of you just enjoy your delicious breakfast.
A few minutes of silence go by before he decides to speak up.
“So.. do you remember much about last night?” He asks you and you turn to him with a curious look. “I know that sometimes if you drink too much it can affect your memory.. so I was just wondering.”
He knows he’s probably blushing a bit now. There’s a real reason why he’s asking you, right?
“Oh. Well, yeah I’m pretty sure I remember most of it. Some of it is maybe a little foggy.” You tell him after thinking for a moment. When you look at him again, he’s staring at you. You laugh a little.
“If you’re wondering if I remember the almost-fight and all that, I definitely do. Though I kinda wish I didn’t.” You joke, but not really kidding. Deep down you are a little mortified about what you did. Moreso with Yuta than with that girl, but still even then you only caused that scene because of your jealousy over Yuta. Does he know you like him that way now? Did you give yourself away?
“Ah.. I see.” He says awkwardly and your guilt pangs in you.
“Yuta.. I’m really sorry about last night.” You say finally and he looks at you kinda surprised. “I mean I did a lot of embarrassing things that weren’t too bad, could just be written off as those funny things I did at my first party, yknow? But..”
You play with the food on your plate a little, not quite able to look at him.
“But I did something really not okay with you. I.. I was forcing myself on you and you were clearly uncomfortable, right? I don’t even know what I was thinking.. I would never..” You start to apologize, but kind of struggle with how to put it. How can you even explain yourself for something like that? Isn’t it obvious?
“Hey, it’s okay.” He says gently, putting your nerves to rest with just one phrase as he puts his warm hand on yours. You look over at him to see him smiling fondly. How can he forgive you so easily?
“It wasn’t like that. I know you weren’t in the right headspace. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t.. do something you’d regret, yknow?” He explains like youre sure he said to you similarly last night. You ended up being regretful anyways, but you suppose this is best case scenario. You cant imagine if you had kept forcing yourself on him then, probably ruining your relationship forever. You’re thankful that your best friend is as sweet and forgiving as he is.
“Thank you.. I still think it was wrong though. I’ll make it up to you.” You promise him and go back to eating.
You don’t bring up the kiss at all. Even though you remember exactly what he told you last night.
“If you wake up tomorrow, when you’re sober, and you still want that first kiss.. I’ll do it.”
You believe him. You know he would, and it scares you. It scares you because you know you might not be able to control yourself if you open that door. Anything could happen after. You’re scared.
Yuta doesn’t bring it up for the same reason. And he doesn’t ask you about your reasonings or motives for why you did what you did that night either. Like why seeing some other girl almost kiss him made you so angry that you offered to take his first instead. No, even though his mind yearned for answers, he was also too scared to look for them. Afraid of what he might find or what trap he might set off.
So, neither of you bring it up. You act like it was all meaningless. Just drunk nonsense with no actual motive behind it.
But even so, that night ends up changing your relationship forever.
#okkotsu yuuta#okkotsu yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk fluff#fluff#smut#mutual pining#friends to lovers#childhood friends#college au
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A few days late but I have officially surpassed 1000 followers!!!
Ahhh thank you everyone so so much this is amazing and I love of all you <3 Seriously thanks it’s kinda surreal and it means a lot to me💜 I love this fandom so much 🚒❤️🔥
To celebrate I’m doing a lil thing:
Mutuals:
You can send me a ship and a sentence/prompt and I’ll write a little bit more.
You can request a gif set
You can request a drawing
Also if you add 💜 in your message I’ll tell you one of my favourite things about you/your blog 💜
Everyone:
You can request a gif set
You can send me a ship and a prompt and I’ll try write some more
Alternatively yell at me to write my WIPs ashjddj
(Everything may take a lil while because I have uni exams til the 19th but please send me things and I’ll try to get round to it!!!)
Once again thank you all so so so much I can’t believe I have over 1K followers it’s kinda crazy. Means a lot to me 💜
Tagging 50 mutuals under the cut (it’s all tumblr will allow)
@bidisasterevankinard @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @eowon @elvensorceresss @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @evanbegins @diazsdimples @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark @underwaterninja13 @daffi-990 @aspecbuddie @bucks-daddy-issues @tizniz @monsterrae1 @firefighterevandiaz @loveyouanyway @hippolotamus @buckdefencesquad @actualalligator @pirrusstuff @actuallyitsellie @dangerpronebuddie @babybibuck @exhuastedpigeon @perfectlysunny02 @buddieswhvre @loserdiaz @rogerzsteven @bucksbignaturals @smallandalmosthonest @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @emilybahu @princehattric @inell @snarkythewoecrow @strwbrrysauce @ronordmann
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Hey! i'm new to the twst fandom, and got recommended ur blog! ur writing is so soft, i love it! is there any blogs like urs, that does art or writes /reader fics that u would recommend?? i'm trying to find some more to follow! thnx 💕
Hello Anon! ☆
Thank you so much for your ask, and welcome to the Twst fandom! ♡
Ahhhh it makes me so happy to hear that you enjoy my work! ♡ I noticed you sent a similar ask to my friend Ian (@crystallizsch), where she recommended my blog in this post here! ♡
It was very sweet of her to include me, and I'm honored to be apart of her recommendation list! ♡
While my recommendations may include the same blogs she already recommended to you, all of these blogs are ones I enjoy and personally think deserve recognition ♡
Everyone on this list is incredibly talented, whether it be with writing, art, OC's, OC x canon's, etc.
If we've never interacted before, and you notice yourself tagged in this post (and to my lovely mutuals): Hello! ♡ I love your work, and I thank you for the amazing content you make. It's a joy whenever you pop up on my dash, and I look forward to whatever else you decide to make/do in the future! I'm a bit shy, so I don't tend to interact much. But just know that I love your work, and I hope you have a good day ♡
(Please note: If I forgot anyone, I apologize! It's also nothing personal if you don't see your name on here, as I'm not familiar with every Twst blog out there! These are just my personal recommendations based on blogs I know of and enjoy ♡)
If you do not wish to be tagged, please let me know! Thank you! ♡
Amazing artists, writers, OC's, and OC x Canon's:
@crystallizsch
@midnightmah07
@boopshoops
@br3adtoasty
@skriblee-ksk
@cheerleaderman
@nicoliharu
@broh3m3
@shroudbud
@lemonrin-i
@r-aindr0p
@reirei404
@revivemyreverie
@ramshacklerumble
@pointy-spiral
@wellerdanny
@daily-trey
@selfinserttothestars
@offorestsongs
@oya-oya-okay
@jovieinramshackle
@secondary-colorentimy
@pmpmdeluxe
@dibbledoodle
@deeva-arud
@ashipiko
@the-trinket-witch
@thehollowwriter
@thegoldencontracts
@fruity-arts
@egophiliac
@0honeybones0
@mintmoth
@lico-arts
I'm sure there's plenty of other blogs just as amazing as the one's I recommended (as I'm not familiar with everyone!) so I also wanted to bring up tags! ♡
If you are interested in a specific character (whether it be for art or x Reader stories) you can look for them using tags! ♡
For example, if I wanted to see work of Idia, I could try searching #Idia Shroud, or #Idia x reader! ♡
I hope this helps Anon, and thank you so much for coming to me for some recommendations! It's an honor that you would want to know the blogs I enjoy! ♡
Welcome to the Twst fandom! ♡♡♡
Thank you! ♡
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How about Adam x reader who were dating before the trap, maybe got into a fight, but Adam lives because that’s definitely what happened and they find each other.
Also ur NSFW hcs were good so feel free to sprinkle some spice if you see fit :)
Lost and found
Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x gn!reader
Fic type: angst, fluff
Warnings: missing person, medically induced coma
A/n: hello!! Thank you for your request, it was such a cute idea!! There's no nsfw because I couldn't find a way for it to fit into this story, but while we're on the topic I just wanna give a message to anyone who saw my Adam nsfw hcs!! I originally posted the unfinished version by accident, but I've gone back and added more to them since! So make sure you're all caught up on those, in my very biased opinion they're extremely canon teehee :^) all can be found in my masterlist as usual
You and Adam had dated for two years before finally ending it about a month ago. The relationship was tumultuous to say the least, epic highs followed by epic lows. Being with Adam could be so wonderful at times, the way he kissed you like you were the only person in the world, the way he would have you folded in on yourself laughing. Your memory was filled with long nights spent talking and falling deeper and deeper in love. Adam was good with his words, which was a blessing and a curse- he could make your heart flutter just as easily as he could crush it. Arguments were frequent, and volatile, he always took things too far. Deciding that this was no way to live, with heavy hearts, the two of you called it quits.
You'd heard around from mutual acquaintances that he'd gotten into a pretty rough spot after the breakup, apparently he'd become some kind of stalker for hire? Like a private investigator but with absolutely no credentials or regard for his or anyone else's safety. It didn't exactly surprise you that he'd gone into a somewhat shady line of work, considering his lack of high school diploma there weren't really many options for him, you wished you could help, but you'd both agreed to keep your distance and move on.
One day however, you couldn't help but break the promise you'd made to yourself, and you asked about him. You'd run into his best friend, Scott at a video store, and despite all your restraint, the words tumbled out of your mouth:
"How's Adam been lately?"
"Pfft how should I know? I haven't spoken to that asshole since he totally bailed on my band photoshoot" Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes disinterestedly.
It wasn't like Adam to turn down paid work of any kind, so you decided to pry deeper,
"What do you mean? He just didn't show up?"
"Yeah, no call, no nothing. He hasn't spoken to anyone. Probably thinks he's too good for me and the guys now with his investigator bullshit, but lemme tell y-"
"Wait, he's actually doing that?! That's so dangerous, you don't think he's gotten himself into trouble do you?"
"I don't know, I got my own shit to worry about. Besides, no one bails on me and gets my sympathy. Scott Tibbs don't chase, baby." He said, all too loudly. You could practically see his ego bulging out of his head.
As you left the video store, the interaction played on your mind. After you and Adam had broken up, Scott was pretty much the only person in his life, and he didn't seem to give two hoots about Adam's wellbeing. Essentially, there wasn't a single person on earth who'd heard anything from Adam in the last week, and no one seemed to be trying to find him. You knew his family were estranged, and pretty much everyone else in his life were all acquaintances at best. If he was in trouble, it was up to you to help.
You headed to his apartment, just to see if he was home. Best case scenario he was, and you got some of your cds back, worst case.. well, you didn't wanna think about that.
You crept up the creaky mildewy staircase of his apartment complex until you reached his floor. Something in your gut felt wrong as you got closer to his door, something that you couldn't quite understand. It wasn't fear, it was overwhelming dread. You always thought there was a big difference between those two feelings; fear was wondering if something bad would happen, and dread was knowing in your heart that it would.
You knocked on his door and waited a beat. Nothing. For whatever reason, a voice in your head told you to try the door handle, and to your surprise, it was unlocked. Adam's apartment looked frozen in time, a half eaten bowl of mouldy noodles sat on his coffee table, an empty beer bottle next to it. Everything looked untouched. That was until your eyes made their way to the floor next to his closet- his camera. Smashed to pieces, and left strewn all over the floor. Your eyes darted up toward his redroom, which appeared to have been ransacked.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You repeated over and over in your head like a mantra.
Your first thought was that someone he'd been stalking had caught him, followed him home to destroy any damning evidence, then deal with Adam.
Panic set in at this moment, as you rushed through his apartment, desperately hoping he was just passed out somewhere.
"Adam?! Adam?!" You cried out, to no avail.
Of course, the second you had regained enough composure to remember to do so, you called the police and filed a missing person's report. The next few days were filled with police interviews, cutting out and sticking the few pictures of Adam you had onto missing person's posters and plastering them all over the city. You handed them out to anyone who would take them, you gave them to all the venues and corner shops that Adam often went to, and you hounded the police relentlessly.
Sure, Adam was your ex, but my god how you had loved him, how you still loved him. You were the only person in his life who loved him, and you refused to give up.
After 6 never ending days, your phone rang. It was a call from the police.
"We've found a young man fitting Adam's description on the outskirts of the city. He's currently in the hospital in a medically induced coma while the staff tend to his injuries. As he is unable to identify himself at this time, we would greatly appreciate it if you could come down and identify him for us" the voice from the phone said.
This was like music to your ears, you tried not to get your hopes up, but you just knew it was him. It had to be, you could feel it in your heart.
As you stood by the bed of the man, you fell to your knees and wept. He was far skinner, his skin pale and almost translucent, his hair tangled and dirty- but there was no doubt about it, that was your Adam.
"That's him! That's my baby! Oh my god, that's my Adam!" You sobbed, clutching into the police office for support. He looked happy for you.
...
After a few days, Adam woke up. He was by no means in good shape, but he was alert, he was safe, and he was asking for you. He'd had to speak to police before he could have any visitors, but they'd assured him that you had done a great deal to help them find him, and he was touched.
"I thought I was gonna die in that room.."
"You probably would have, if y/n hadn't tried to find you"
"No one else reported me?"
The cop shook his head solemnly.
"Damn... I gotta see her, i- I gotta thank her, i-"
He rambled like this for a while, until he was assured that you were able to come visit him.
...
"Hey, sugar" Adam smiled cockily, despite how weak he was.
You approached the chair next to his bed and reached down to stroke his face lovingly.
"That didn't sound very ex boyfriend of you" You teased.
"Aw come onnnn, I nearly die and you still don't want me back?" He whined, giving you a playful pout.
You chuckled and kissed his forehead,
"I basically saved your life, don't get greedy"
Adam's eyes narrowed, and he looked uncertain, "wait.. are you saying you actually don't wanna get back together?"
You rolled your eyes and pinched his cheek,
"Of course not dummy, I just like watching you squirm"
Adam mustered all of his strength to lift his arms and place his hands on your cheeks, pulling your face towards his.
"You're such a bitch" he mumbled against your lips with a smile
"You're a bitch" you giggled back.
The playful teasing went on for a while, until you were sat in a love filled silence, just holding eachother's hands. Adam was the first to break the silence.
"I'm a changed man, you know, y/n"
"Huh?"
"While I was in that room, you were all I could think about. I kept thinking about all the times I hurt you and I knew I needed to make it right. I made a vow to myself that i was gonna get out of there, and I was gonna get you back... and I was gonna love you the way you deserve to be loved. I'm gonna do that, y/n. I'm gonna prove I deserve to be with you, even if it takes a lifetime... which it probably will now that you basically saved my life"
"Yeah, it's gonna be pretty difficult to level that playing field" you smiled jokingly.
"I mean it, y/n," Adam said, his voice serious, "I promise I'm going to devote the rest of my life to loving you, it's the least I could do".
And several happy years later, he's kept that promise.
#saw#leigh whannell#saw 2004#adam stanheight#sawposting#adam faulkner stanheight#adam stanheight x reader#adam faulkner stanheight x reader#adam faulkner x reader#adam faulkner#adam saw#saw adam#x you#xreader#x reader#x gn y/n#x gn reader#x f!reader#x m!reader#x yn#fluff#angst#fic#fanfic#fanfiction
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only you, only us!
── ☆ remus lupin x fem! reader
── ☆ Request: yes / no
── ☆ Synopsis: Remus is in love you with you, but how could you ever feel the same when Sirius exist? He's so perfect and Remus can't help but feel jealous.
── ☆ Warning/content: mention of parties, drinking, kinda making out, my English
── ☆ a.n.: 1.8k words-
masterlist/ marauders masterlist / navigation / taglist
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──
Remus watched as you laughed, he would be smiling if you weren’t laughing with Sirius. Sirius, his best friend on whom he had placed all his trust and told all his insecurities. He had to admit he felt quite betrayed.
He took a long sip of his drink, passing his tongue on his top teeth “Everything’s alright mate?” James said as he came by his side, his eyes following Remus’ stare “Ohh, Y/n, huh?”
Remus groaned “Of course Y/n. But of course, Sirius has to flirt with her” To forget the idea he took another drink. James let out a chuckle, not daring answer to his friend. When Remus was like this talking to him was like talking to a wall. The werewolf settled further on the couch, pouty lips against his glass. “Fuck him,” he groaned.
“Hey… You don’t think you’re going a little hard on him?” James had to defend the person he considered his brother. “He doesn’t seem to flirt with her. Knowing him, he’d probably be snogging her right now if he liked her.”
Remus knew he was right but he was still angry. “Look at her. She likes him.” James knew it wasn’t true, you told him your crush on Remus but you'd asked him to keep it to himself, he was a good friend and couldn’t betray your trust.
“How do you know?”
“She is looking up at him, biting her lip and laughing at something probably stupid” The full moon wasn’t far which made Remus… mean.
James rolled his eyes “C’mon, that’s maybe the time to make a move, don’t you think?” Remus didn’t answer anything, too stubborn to admit his friend was right. “Moony! You can’t be mad at her for ignoring something you never told her”
Remus rolled his eyes. James was so right and Remus hated it. He was never confident enough to make a move on you, you were too perfect, too pretty, too kind for him. But keeping his love for you silent meant he had to border on the idea of seeing you with someone. And somehow, the possibility that it could be his best friend hurt even more.
Sirius always had everything Remus fancied. Girls, a pretty face, a charmful smile and people who wished they were him. No one wished they were Remus. Then again, why would they? Who would want to be a werewolf with scars and eyebags who’d rather read than going out to party like this one?
He couldn’t help it but be jealous of Sirius, even as his best friend it was hard not to feel this way. Remus let out a long breath, the party was shitty enough he didn’t need his own mind to make it worse.
When he looked around him, James was gone and after taking a quick look at the crowd he found him talking to you. His eyebrows furrowed, he didn’t want James to get involved. Maybe it was the best way to get you and him together but he felt even more weak, a selfish part of him didn’t want help. He knew damn well it was stupid since he wasn’t brave enough to do anything. He got up, he couldn’t handle the sight of you anymore.
:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
“Y/n,” James called. You turned your head and a smile found your lips.
“James!” You opened your arms to pull him into a quick hug. “What’s up?”
The boy cleared his throat “I have a friend-”
“Woah, who would have thought?”
He shot you a glare “- who need helps”
“Who?” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“Er… Remus” Your body froze at the name “He’s a little mad and it maybe has to do with you talking to Sirius”
You were a little confused. James knew you fancied the lycanthrope but he never told you the love was mutual. “Do you mean he’s jealous?” You didn’t like the idea of Remus being upset but you couldn’t help the part of you that felt pleased he might fancy you too.
James only grinned as an answer and you understood. Without even thinking, you turned to the sofa but found it empty. Your legs started to run the castle on their own, you finally found him, sat against a tree in one of the courtyards.
“Remus?”
The boy lifted his head, he looked angry and you didn’t like it. You wished you could just kiss his frown away. “Y/n.”
His tone wasn’t welcoming but you decided to settle by his side “What’s going on in this head of yours?” you were smiling but internally you just wanted him to stop being irritated, you wanted him to smile.
“Nothing.” The silence that followed was long “You were having fun with your boyfriend?” you heard the disapproval in his voice.
Your eyes widened “My boyfriend?” you echoed.
“Yeah. Sirius.” Remus was avoiding your eyes, his knees were pressed against his chest.
James made you understand Remus was jealous but to witness it was like an electroshock, the boy hid his feelings well, you were so surprised.
“I don’t like Sirius” you wanted your words to comfort him.
Remus rolled his eyes “Yeah, sure” he mocked. He didn’t believe you. Sirius was everything a girl could want, right?
You frowned, habitually Remus always believed you and it hurt to have lost his trust. “Why do you think I’m lying?” you sounded a little saddened.
“I saw you with him. You’re talking with him more and more, hanging out with him more and more. Just say it to me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I- I’m not with him…,” his anger that once amused you was making you a tad sad now. “We’re just friends! I- I just talk with him because we understand each other-”
“Understand each other?” he quoted, a scoff leaving his lips out of disbelief.
Now you were truly hurt. He was so blunt, he normally never was like this with you. “Yes!” you started to get angry too “We both have shitty families! We understand each other! Next to each other, we can finally find the comfort we both craved as children!”
Remus looked down, ashamed. He felt guilty for letting his anger win him and hurt you in the process. He hated this part of him that still wasn’t sure. He kept his mouth shut, he had done enough stupid things for tonight.
“You still don’t believe me?” Remus heard how offended you sounded. “You want me to show you I don’t like him?” your tone had changed to a more… soft one?
Remus heard you move next to him but he didn’t dare look at you, staring in front of him. Unfortunately, even like this, somehow, your face ended up in front of his. He wanted to back up but the bark behind him was already digging in his back. Your lips tugged into a large grin “Why are so grumpy? Why don’t you believe me?” you asked softly, almost pleading.
“Because it’s obvious you like him.”
You sighed “I don’t.”
“Why wouldn’t you like him? He’s handsome and charming and popular and-”
“And what if I like you?” you smirked.
Remus lifted an eyebrow and let out a tsk. He shook his head, it wasn’t possible, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t even understand why you’d like him. “No you don’t. I’m not the type of boy you want to date. I’m not handsome and I’m not nice and-” you cut him off by crashing your lips on his. Remus’ eyes widened in surprise, his heart beating in his ears. He didn’t move, his mind processing what you just did.
You pulled away and grinned “Still don’t believe me?”
“I…” he started, “I…”
You waited patiently “You…?”
“Fuck,” Remus mumbled before he pressed his lips to yours. You chuckled, your hand cradling his cheek, your thumb softly stroking his freckled skin. You leaned into him, your chest flushed against him while he pressed himself closer to you until you were laying on the cold midnight grass. His hands wrapped around your wrists, pinning them to the ground. You let out a small whimper at the roughness due to the close full moon and the built up jealousy.
Remus pulled away, his breath heavy “Merlin..” he cursed, releasing your arms “I… You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he smiled, his cheeks a light shade of pink.
You let out a short chuckle “Yeah”
Remus laughed at your sass “Cheeky,” he said before he pressed his lips to your cheek, he let his mouth linger on your skin, “I like it.”
You looked up at him with shiny eyes from the excitement and the two or three drinks you got this night “Do you believe me now?”
“Mmmh,” he had an amused smile playing on his lips. “I need one more kiss to be sure,” he said as his lips trailed down until they found yours. You offered him a short kiss. “Hey now, that wasn’t enough”
You laughed and offered him a longer kiss, letting your lips parted so he could slip his tongue into your mouth. Remus let out a soft groan, pressing his body against yours.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours “I think I believe you now.”
“Good,” you whispered, breathless. Your fingers got tangled in his hair, your voice a little more serious now “Why do you doubt yourself so much?”
Remus looked away and shifted, he rested his head on his chest “It’s hard to believe you’d like someone like me. You’re so perfect and I’m so me.”
“You’re so incredible,” you whispered, your lips locked against his temple “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re caring and sweet and kind and handsome. Very handsome.”
“Am I?” Remus smiled.
“Oh yeah. I like everything about you. Even when you are grumpy,” you said. Your nails scratched his scalp “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I have no interest in Sirius, only you, Remus. Only you.”
Remus’ smile widened “Only me,” he repeated, tasting the words on his tongue. He pressed his lips to your neck briefly “I’m sorry I got mad,” he said after a moment of silence.
You sighed “It’s alright. You have nothing to be sorry for,” you whispered in his ear.
Remus closed his eyes and breathed in your skin “Can I say I love you or it’s too soon?”
“You can say it,” you muttered, your heart beating faster and heat creeping to your neck.
“I love you,” he whispered against your neck, his lips tickling your soft skin. You stayed silent for a while, a huge smile on your face.
“Merlin, I love you too.”
He shifted, rolling to his side to look at you “So… it’s only us right now, isn’t it?”
“Only us,” you assured, kissing his lips softly.
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──
⋆ ★ remus lupin taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cauliflowertree @madison-rebel @moonlitmeeks @rhydianissuperior @loveeharrington @mad-elia @jackys-stuff-blog @elenatries2write @princess-paramour @juneberrie @f4iry-blush @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @sparklenarniawizard @songs4themoon @moondemon123 @mystic-writings @siriusblackstwin @natashxromanovf @violetteshoneybee @unadulterated-syd @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @garfieldsladybird @kidcuisinesvcks @percy-the-hufflepuff @fairydxll @spookydarkwitch @innerloverpainter @vancitycharlie @nyxxxxxxxx @venussflytraps @diorgirl444 @oncasette @locke-writes @dori-and-gray @itsarajr @maddipoof @starconfettii @widowbf @starlit-epiphany @rosalyn-s @etanordiesbullshit @sageskisses444 @luvmarsbars @jsjcue @mellozhi @lovings4turn
#remus fluff#fluff#harry potter#marauders#remus lupin#sirius black#the marauders era#james potter#lily evans#marauders era#remus x you#remus x reader#remus lupin fic#x reader#remus angst#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin oneshot#peter pettigrew#solaris is writing! ੈ✩‧₊˚
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Hi! I’m about to dump a little ramble here I hope that’s okay :)
I’m fairly new to bts and have only in the last six months started to catch up on everything and then started observing the fandom. I have to say, the one thing that’s left me completely baffled about this fandom as an outsider is the way jimin and jungkook’s bond is treated.
I was prepared for seeing appreciation for all the different friendship-dynamics between the members, and I have seen that and it’s beautiful. Jimin is my bias so I like seeing his bonds with everyone. But the general difference in energy surrounding jikook compared to the other friendships is wild to me.
I was prepared to see tinhat type shippers who try to prove two members are romantically/sexually involved and will die on that hill, because there’s always those in every fandom. (and ofc I’ve seen those here too with several different pairings and I don’t necessarily have a problem with it unless they’re being completely inappropriate or harassing them or people in their life or whatever, you do you in fan spaces I guess), but what I was NOT prepared for is seeing jikook biased fans and shippers(?)supporters(?) spending more time defending the fact that they are even close AT ALL, than they do trying to prove an alleged romance. When to me as an outsider it’s incredibly obvious they have been/are one of the closest duos in the group and love each other dearly. Why is that not just accepted as fact? Why are people so hell bent on downplaying that reducing them to purely fan service? Of course they do fan service, all of them do, all groups like that do, but two things can exist at once. It’s super easy to detect when band members are acting close on camera but aren’t actually close, believe me I’ve seen it before, and jikook are definitely not that.
So why??
Some patterns I’ve obseobserved:
- Solo stans love rivalry. JM and JK are the most popular/stand out the most and have the most success with solo songs etc, therefore their fans simply have to dislike the other and see them as competition, -> can’t appreciate them together
- People dislike shippers who see them as something more than friends so much that it “ruined” their bond for them and they can’t appreciate their interactions because of it. (Childish if you ask me, never let what other fans say affect how you feel about the people you follow)
- They’re tinhat taekookers (nothing more to say here lol)
- They’re homophobic and/or jealous and can’t stand some of their flirtyness/jokes/other gay shit they do lol (but it seems to be mostly okay if it’s other pairs, only these two bringing out such a strong anti reaction… which I think is rooted in a few different things but that could be a whole other ramble so)
- They take out negative feelings about perceived mistreatment/favoritism/questionable career moves/believing one is better than the other etc on JM andJK to the point of not wanting to see them together. And I’m not saying some of those concerns can’t be valid, but letting it drive you to dislike one of them so much you can’t appreciate their bond is wild.
- They just don’t like one of them or both for whatever reason, which sure whatever not everyone’s gonna vibe with everyone. Who fans vibe with or not isn’t gonna change the fact that they clearly vibe with each other though, spewing negativity is pointless.
I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on this if you have the time! Why do you think they’re so “controversial”?
Oh also for the record, I’m firmly in the “idc what they have just love them” camp. I can see why some think there’s feelings/attraction there, I can also see why some think it’s simply close friendship/found family/mutual admiration. That’s not the point here though.
first of all i hope you've been having loads of fun becoming a fan, i wish i could go back to the time when i first discovered bts🥹💜
i think the reason is all of what you've said but i have to add one more which is taekookers actively spreading proganda about jikook hating each other. that is a massive one i fear. from what i hear the first group most people come across when they become fans tends to be taekookers (i suppose the reason is that many people get drawn in by tae or jk) and tkkers are super hardcore when it comes to spreading pure hatred towards jimin and jikook. the biggest tkker accounts on twitter and youtube are hardcore haters of jimin and jikook and they come up with wild theories about how jikook hate each other.
i think they do that because they want to pre-empt people looking at jikook and seeing that they're close then questioning if jikook are in fact closer to eo than taekook, which wouldn't bode well for tkkers. once people are brainwashed any ridiculous theory will fly because they already want to believe that jikook hate each other.
whatever jimin or jk do alone or together, tkkers' first reaction is to relate it to proving that jikook don't get along. it's obsessive and frankly so ridiculous. for example apparently jungkook took a trip to japan with eunwoo last year. tkkers' first reaction was that this proves that jikook aren't dating and they're not special because jimin wasn't the only person jungkook 'took to' japan. which is lowkey funny to me coming from tkkers because it's not like jk went with tae. by their logic wouldn't they find it weird that jk travels with someone who's not tae?😭but this is just an example of how far tkkers take their hate and jikook could do literally anything in the world, it would still mean that they hate each other. they didn't have to connect jk and eunwoo's trip to jikook but they still did because they're obsessed and they can't stop talking about how much they think jikook hate each other.
solos are very loud these days but from what i've seen they don't tend to focus on jikook's relationship (or their faves' relationship with other members in general) more than just spew hate towards the members. it's not very ship-specific i don't think. undoubtedly some of them dislike jikook's bond because they don't want them to be close but it's more coming from misguided hate towards either of them than anything actually related to what jikook say/do.
however i will say i think solo stans' bs do affect jikookers/people who would be a fan of both of them and more and more people are 'choosing sides' which to me is really sad...it was definitely a case in the past that most jikookers biased jimin but now the majority of those people have become solos or if they don't say that they've become solos, they displayed very extreme anti reactions to jungkook which is why i have half of jikookers on tumblr blocked😭
there's also a big issue with tkkers harassing people who post positively about jikook especially if it's someone who's a 'non shipper', for example they made numerous 'non shipper' youtubers delete positive reactions to jikook videos or flooded their comments saying that jikook hate each other. 'non shippers' like anyone else don't want to be harassed so many just choose to not talk about jikook i guess.
i've not really been in fandom spaces this year like i was in the past and what became apparent to me is that a lot of drama is just on twitter which is almost like its own bubble. if you look outside of twitter i think the majority of bts fans bias either jimin or jungkook and a lot of those people don't have an issue with their friendship. i see a lot of people get chimmy and kooky keychains together for example and i think outside of twitter a lot of people will be enjoying jikook's travel show.
a reason why i kind of 'left' twitter is because i realised that jikookers focus on the negativity around jikook a lot both from tkkers and solos. i think perhaps there's a tendency for jikookers to highlight the negative bc we want to protect jikook and react strongly to hate but i think this can skew how we think people view jikook if we are focusing on the negative so much. i mean i completely understand it but i think this is also why there's so many solos in the fandom in general, we want to protect the members so much so that we end up focusing on the hate which will then start to seem really extreme and people get more and more passionate towards defending whoever they think deserves it most and end up resenting other members because of their fans' behaviour.
i'm kind of down about bts fandom in general these days because it seems to be in shambles. a good thing though is that years of tkkers and solos didn't seem to affect jikook's bond at all which i didn't think it would. i'd love to say that i think things will get better and people will start to appreciate jikook's friendship but i just don't see it happening😭maybe i should become more hopeful if we are getting people like you with common sense becoming fans!
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Ngl I really do miss the golden days back in 2021 and 2022 when I used to be so active in the fandom and make new mutuals and friends and post about silly OC x canon lore without a care in the world. But I do understand it's also 100% my fault for distancing myself and barely answerings any asks that are 1+ year in my inbox :')
I'm so SO grateful for moots and followers that have been here for 2/3 years and still support me even after all those scarce months, I can't thank you enough 😭😭😭
I'll really do my best from now on to answer asks, so please don't be shy to keep sending em!!!!! (I absolutely LOVE receiving asks about my OC or yume but I feel like I have to answer it with a cute art but I often don't have time/motivation to draw so it ends up getting lost in my inbox,,,, SORRY ILL REMEDY THAT😭) I really miss making friends and connections with other yume-enthusiastics and having fun in fandom again!!!
#personal#its ironic how i have a lot more free time than i did in 2022 and yet i used to post so much and now i barely do anything#get my ass to start drawing again i begyou
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TAG GAME! IT'S TIME FOR A TAG GAME! ty darling @creepkinginc @deedala and @energievie for this lovely walk down memory lane 🥰
how did you get into the fandom? i was here on tumblr for another fandom (shall not be named) when a friend reblogged a clip from s10. i had not kept up with shameless for a few seasons, but then i immediately rewatched and caught up... the rest is history!
how long have you been here? let's see - that was december 2019.... omg 😭 i have had this blog since 2017, and have been on tumblr on and off since 2010 tho askdhf i live here 🏡
what's the first fandom channel you found? (youtube, reddit, tumblr, insta, twitter, FB, other?) tumbles 4ever
what's your favourite now? see above 😇
which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom? i'm pretty sure it's @sickness-health-all-that-shit! one of the very first shameless blogs i followed, who for some reason decided to follow me back and i am forever grateful for my dearest rita 🥺
which tumblerinos did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and wanted to get to know? oh man so many! most of my early crushes are no longer active 😔 but they are so close to my heart always! but i also very much remember throwing my phone across a hotel room in excitement when i first saw @whatwouldmickeydo in my inbox ✨
first gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember)? always always always @palepinkgoat - i will never recover from my first reading of restoration.
first fan art that blew your mind? literally anything by @steorie!
fanfic trope that you were sure wasn't for you but now you low key (or high key) love? apparently i am really into the apocalypse askdfh
what surprised you most about this fandom? i think it's how... elastic (??) it is? like. maybe bc it was such a long running show, but i just love how the fandom grows and evolves over time. people are always welcome! whether they're brand new or are returning home... there's always excitement and love for everyone. it made my time away from the fandom bearable, knowing there was always a place for me to come back to when i was ready.
moment in the show (or YT vids if you're one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with gallavich? 🗣 SORRY I'M LATE
ian or mickey? ian girlie (gender neutral) but i strongly feel you can't love one without the other!!!!
which gallagher or milkovich are you? oh. god. oh god i'm probably lip askdjlfh with the softness of one ian gallagher
TAGGING SOME BABIES
@metalheadmickey
@howlinchickhowl
@heymacy
@whatthebodygraspsnot
@heymrspatel
@gallawitchxx
@darlingian
@fionnagallagher
@rereadanon
@crossmydna
@callivich
@too-schoolforcool
@vintagelacerosette
@mickeym4ndy
@mickittotheman
@mmmichyyy
@sleepyfacetoughguy
@michellemisfit
and all the babes tagged above! 🍅
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It’s been a year since I became Boyd’s fan
Boyd’s fans, my followers,
I just wanted to say that I’ve been Boydo’s fan for a year now! Yes, I know it’s not a long time but, better later than never.
And so I’m curious, if you want to share, for how long have you guys been a fan of Boyd’s, just write down in the comments. Like I said, only if you want. No pressure.
I’m also gonna share with you, how I found out about Boyd and became his fan.
I became Boyd’s fan after watching Vengeance by the end of May last year. I immediately began to be curious about his other projects. Then I realized I’ve already seen him another year before, by the end of June, 2022 in In the Shadow of the Moon but you know, I didn’t really know him that time. But I kind of had a feeling like, I might know this guy, looks familiar or that he reminds me of someone. Coincidence? Like it was meant to be for me to become his fan later on. I just didn’t know about it yet. Also realized that a month later, after watching In the Shadow of the Moon, I watched Out of the Furnace, that time I didn’t know it was Boyd. So those are the very first two movies I saw Boyd in and I wasn’t even his fan yet. But really, thanks to Vengeance, I became fan of Boyd Holbrook.
This may also be a 1-Year Anniversary for my boydholbrook-fan blog!
I’ve been using tumblr for a very long time but I had some kind of a break from tumblr and when I became Boyd’s fan, I decided to start TUMBLRing again! And I’m happy that I did! I’ve had the chance to meet so many wonderful, talented and kind people through the year here on tumblr!
And again to my favorite mutuals here:
@ilovewhiteroses @kurjaks @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook @pnwdagnabbit
@toxicanonymity @milla-frenchy @r3dheadedwitch @ithinkwehitametaphor
@thehemsworld @evenmyhivemindisempty @chieko-pp
Thank you for your kindness and generosity! Thank you for loving my posts! Thank you for being friends with me! You guys are so sweet, kind, wonderful and talented! I’m so happy to share love and support for Boyd with you! I appreciate every single one of you! All the best and much love to you all! ❤️❤️❤️
I’ve also managed to reach 252 followers through the year and I wanna thank you to all my followers for this, for following me, and liking my posts and stuff, just all the interactions in general! Also to those not following me, for stopping by my fanpage and doing the same I mentioned previously! It means a lot!
Through that 1 year I was able to check out and watch most of Boyd’s filmography and really looking forward to Boyd’s new projects!
My most favorite of Boyd’s movies is - The Free World and his character Mo Lundy
My most favorite of Boyd’s TV series is - Justified: City Primeval and his character Clement Mansell
And again, I'm gonna repeat myself, about Boyd but
I think Boyd is so underrated and he deserves much more recognition! He also deserves much more opportunities to play lead roles! He’s got a few lead roles already and he excels in every single one of them! He’s brilliant in everything he’s been in so far, supporting or lead role! He always gives an excellent performance and portrays his characters to an absolute perfection! Always an outstanding performance! Boyd always does a fantastic job!
I'm so happy and it's wonderful to see you all showing support and love for Boyd! Also to see the fans outside Tumblr showing support and love for Boyd as well is just heartwarming! He totally deserves all the love and support! He deserves nothing but the best! 'Cause he's the best!
He is such a phenomenal and true actor!
Such an exceptional talent!
Such a lovely and kind person! Nice guy!
Precious and wonderful human being with a huge heart!
Handsome man!
That is Boyd Holbrook!
And I love him so much and admire him so much!
And I'm so proud of him!
He's incredible! He's the best!
I keep repeating myself, again and again, I know, but it's true. It is how it is.
I'll never get tired of saying all this!
I'll never get tired of saying how much of a wonderful, talented and handsome man Boyd Holbrook is!
Deal with it!
❤️❤️❤️🌟🌟🌟🔥🥰😍❤️🔥
I'm Kamila and I am a Boyd Holbrook Fan and Admirer 😇
#boyd holbrook#boydholbrook-fan#boyd holbrook fan#boyd holbrook fans#my favorite mutuals#my followers#tumblr#one year anniversary#my tumblr anniversary#my gifs
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Palestine info posts (with help links):
https://www.tumblr.com/sulfurcosmos/732456971539775488?source=share
i am constantly reblogging posts with other donation sites, in case any links don't work or you want to give to a targeted fundraiser. ZIONISTS/"NEUTRAL OPINIONS" DNI, YOU AREN'T AND WILL NEVER BE WELCOME HERE. 🇵🇸🇵🇸
~~
INTRO POST‼️ (i'll add stuff if things change/i think of more stuff to put)
hi, i'm sigmund, you can call me sig (or another nickname if i've given you the okay)!! my pronouns are he/angel, i'm biflux, transmasc/demiboy 🏳️⚧️, peer-reviewed autistic (not diagnosed unfortunately 😞), and i'm a MINOR🤬🤬🧨💥 (16👴) so DON'T BE A /NEG FREAK OR ELSE
also fair warning, i am not an nsfw account by any means, but i do make immature jokes sometimes/may reblog things that have mild or vague nsfw stuff in them (never heavily though), so if that makes you uncomfortable then just be careful following or go someplace else, i don't blame you :3
my account is multifandom cause i love a lot of things and i can't pick one thing/put a concise list, but the things i post/reblog/like most often depends on what i'm currently into (right now it's total drama), so if you're following me then prepare for a mixed bag that's filled with mostly kitkats (also expect a lot of rarepairs, whether they're joking or not. i loooove rarepairs :3)
don't be scared to send in random asks, especially if we're mutuals!! i forget who i'm mooties with if i don't interact with them a lot, so i'm sorry if i seem like i'm ignoring you or anything 😭😭 i'm also kinda generally nervous to start conversations with people sometimes, but i would love to be friends with all my mutuals :3
i have an ao3 too, also sigmxnd!!!! i haven't posted in a while, but i'm typically always working on stuff, so just always keep an eye out :3
therian/otherkin & agere account (sfw interaction only): @notmeant-tobeseen
main au ask blog: (coming soon :3)
DO NOT INTERACT (will be updated as i think of more): zionists/people with "neutral opinions", vivziepop supporters (i suppose its fine if you don't support her but still like the shows, just please don't talk to me about them, it makes me very uncomfortable), anti-lgbtq+/anti-mogai, radqueer/radinclus/radexclus/etc., terfs/swerfs, ed/thinspo blogs, anti-therian/otherkin/alterhuman, endogenic systems/supporters, dsmp fans/supporters, wilbur soot fans/supporters, if you sexualize underage characters in any media (or real people), forceful conversion religious people, and obviously racists, sexists, and pro-contact harmful paras can fuck off
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I feel like ? I gotta remind people it’s ok to unfollow a blog when it upsets you in any way >> like if I ever do that sure, you can let me know if it was anything I did personally I’d appreciate it but if you just don’t enjoy something it’s ok to unfollow ;w; can’t stress enough how important it is to put your mental health first 👌
#pix habla#fnaf#✨💖 even if you don’t like frogs and I post about frogs does that make sense#i see some yall not liking some of the stuff I draw and just kinda wonder ? why you still follow lol#i won’t take it personally#even if it’s a mutual heck I’ve even told my friends to unfollow if they ever need a break from my blog =w=👌#because It’s nothing personal >>#i used to ok so funny story xD I used to follow a friend in middle school on social media#and we were good friends but had nothing in common in what we posted about =w=#like she loved Beatles fanfics (don’t ask do not ask idk I didn’t read past the titles)#and i loved sonic :v#and like#thats aigh ? you don’t gotta ? follow a blog that doesn’t bring joy no matter if you’re close or not#i would honestly hate it if I’m making anyone upset or unhappy#so yeyeyeye I’ve said this before in other fandoms but like >>)✨✨💖 put 👏 your mental health 👏👏👏 FIRST ALWAYS👏#Stay safe y’all ✨👌 have fun be free#we’re all just… sitting here… online 😔 ain’t nothing to it
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which ocs in the fandom do you find the most interesting? also, which ocs do you think have the most aesthetically pleasing designs? finally, which ocs have you only heard of but would like to know more about?
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo ha haaa noooo i can't possibly answer this because it would be soooo unfair to have favourites wouldn't it's comet knight by @kittenvirus
#sorry it's the colour scheme and the glitter and the fluff. i'm unfortunately so so weak to all these things 😭#even a little bit of pastel rainbow star theming specifically... comet really has everything i'm sorry to say#i think starstruck would faint immediately if she saw him. could they be friends?? i'm not sure i think she'd just be like this: 👁️👁️#he is also one of (if not the very) first designs i saw when i started picking around the kirby community#so i'll always have a soft spot for him no matter who else i discover.#there are also a dozen other OCs that i love and adore but the more that i list the more folks will feel that i didn't list *them*#and i really really don't want to do that! my mutuals have some absolutely banging designs as do some folks who i don't follow!#there are also a lot of REALLY cool designs that are 'semi' oc but are more like redesigns? from folks AUs or comics or so on#many great morpho-esque redesigns out there too i'm always a fan of those!!!#please understand i'm listing only ONE design that hits all these prompts (bc i also don't know the creator well hence 'only heard of')#and one that always stands out to me personally because of the sentimentality i mentioned above#but i love MANY many many. if i started listing them i would never stop!! if you have an oc or a design i probably love them!!#i realise that is a bit of a dodge of the breadth of this question but i just... yknow? haha#i'd be happy to learn more about any ocs really!! i would actually love for starstruck to start having some relationships with others too?#if folks are interested in that!! she has relationships with the dream land four but not so much with ocs; and that might be fun too!!#others ocs#asks
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hello friendz !! i am packing my bags and moving to @tetzoro !!! please come join me if ya want ^_^
back to navi.
#i’ve been so annoying about this all week to my buddies but i have made the decision to archive this blog !#i’ve had so many good memories here and have met so many amazing people that i get to call my friends 🥹#i’ll forever be thankful for this blog for giving me a safe space to be myself and fully indulge (aka go delulu) in anime men#a large part of me does not want to make the move but tbh it comes down to organization#when i made this blog i never thought i’d meet mutuals and find a community here#if i knew then what i knew now i would’ve just made a new blog from the start#but managing a main blog and side blog sucks !!! (for me) bc i view this as my main blog#and tbh a fresh start sounds really nice#so !! if u read all this im giving you a pat on the head and a freshly baked cookie#i hope to see u guys at my new blog !!!#i am going to try to follow a lot of u from it but also !!!#no pressure to become moots again if ya don’t wanna <33#love y’all sm#ALSO ! i will be keeping this blog up#forever my shrine to kuroo tetsuro#(my new blog is still v kuroo - centric .. don’t get me wrong. he is still the man™️)#okay im nervous !! laterz !!! <3#⁺. ʚ aims lore ɞ ⋆˙
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taking a break!
#may get online to dm my mutuals but i wont be replying to asks or posting in the meantime#i sincerely apologize to those of you ive upset and i will do my best to fix it and myself#goodbye for now 💌 sending all my love!!!!#it was fun and im thankful for all of the friends ive made and the following ive amassed and i wish i could repay youfor all the support#logging off 💌
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