𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 ✘ 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
♡ synopsis: your arranged husband is only clingy at night
♡ pairing: arranged husband! gojo satoru x fem! reader
♡ warnings: mentions of love less marriage, divorce
♡ wc: 1.5k
♡ authors note: not self indulgent at all . its not like i like this trope or gojo or anything . i dont even know why i wrote this . stop looking at me funny .
💌 tagging: @i-likebread @driaswrld @luv-gin @osaemu @darlingimawitch @sad-darksoul @r0ckst4rjk
the last month had been hell on earth for you.
those dreams of getting married for love had turned into nothing but childish fantasies with the type of predicament you had been born into.
your parents were always over obnoxious with their big crystal ballrooms and tens upon thousands of office buildings around the country that operate business revenue to serve your parents. bubbly strawberry champagne, clacking heels, and business talk made up half of your life and to think you may have been free from it when you became an adult was a goddamn delusion. it was inevitable that one day you would've gotten into an arranged marriage to meet their needs, an arranged marriage with an opposing company because surely, if you can't beat them, join them.
growing up was difficult.
nobody wanted to befriend the heir to one of the richest companies that has ever graced this world, and even if they did, it was because they wanted a leg up in being business friendly. as a child, you learned that connections never last and mutual agreements only exist to benefit two parties that need the other in order to pursue their own goals.
you were always the wing woman and never the prize.
the dainty diamond ring adorning your left ring finger doesn't mean anything other than that the business will generate two times more revenue. any concept of love that you ever thought you could grasp now flutters away in the wind, entirely out of reach. it's hard being a romantic, and it's too difficult trying to fill your life with a cup half full mentality when there was a hole in the bottom of the damn thing. love felt so foreign in this life, and even more foreign when you married your business enemy gojo satoru last month.
things with your new husband felt all the more awkward too... needless to say, gojo is like a mountain in the presence of your boulder mentality.
he's forward, direct, and determined to shake the market with his charming smile and effective communication that woos those purchasing what his family has to offer. on the outside, he's very approachable. his smile is easygoing and reassuring as he travels through power points and business-related documents, but that facade instantly fades away when he steps foot in your shared home.
he doesn't feel like a husband, but rather someone that shares the same house as you. with that in mind, it also feels impossible to ever fall for someone like him. gojo seems to business oriented, not to mention he's a pain in the ass of a husband.
that charming mask of his is immediately slipped off as his left foot comes through the door, eyes becoming a bit sterner and more withdrawn. you wonder if someone like him could ever feel the effects of this life, a life characterized by price tags, a half assed smile, and keeping appearances. lucky for you, you only have to endure ten more years of this loveless marriage until your parents figure it's best to divorce and move onto the next test subject.
fairytales were unrealistic, but at least it's better than this bullshit. even that beast taming disney princess was living her happily ever after.
you perk your head up from your laptop, taking in the sight of your arranged husband in a loose tank top and sweatpants. he's holding two jars of jam, a knife tucked between the right glass jar and his ring finger.
you try to miss the way his wedding band catches in the light and the handsome silver glimmers.
"sorry, what?" you ask, giving him your undivided attention. he never speaks to you, maybe he needed something.
"i said, do you want toast?" gojo asks again, clearly a bit confused with your mannerisms.
he knew you were aloof, but you really looked lost in thought just now.
"oh! no, i'm fine," you stammer, turning back to the laptop in an attempt to gain a neutral face.
after an exasperated sigh, you close the laptop. why was this loser making toast at 10pm anyways? there was no denying he looked hot as hell doing it though... tank top displaying his toned body and sweatpants hanging dangerously low to his hips.
you're convinced he's out to get you.
"i'm gonna go to bed now," you mutter, tucking your laptop under your arm as he takes a massive bite into the toast.
"ghoofnighf," gojo responds with his mouth stuffed, not sparing you a second glance.
it's obvious a slice of bread seemed to be more interesting than you.
beginning the ascend up the stairs seemed to be a wakeup call. things definitely could've been worse, but at least the both of you were getting somewhere. what used to be sleeping in different rooms became coming to an agreement to sleep together in the master bedroom. what used to be awkward silence is now filled with somewhat of a conversation.
you settle into the right side of the king bed, your side of the bed, scooting to the edge and snuggling into the fleece blanket. the nights feel colder and longer now that the bed is occupied with another body. sleeping with gojo however, he makes the bed feel so much warmer with his radiating body heat and long limbs that have a tendency to reach for you in the night.
the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the upstairs hallway breaks your train of thought.
"i know you're awake," gojo hums.
"i'm aware," you quip, shaking your head at his ridiculousness.
the bed dips and he shuffles into the blanket. you shift a bit in response. your back faces him, and you feel gojo poke a bony finger into your shoulder, as if to childishly get your attention.
you can't really seem to gauge his character. sometimes your husband seems more distant than usual, and some nights it's almost like he's as playful as a cat.
"what...?" you sit up a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.
gojo rests his head on the soft pillow, gazing up at you with twinkling eyes. his snowy tufts of hair lay crookedly.
it feels... oddly endearing.
time and time again, he can't really explain how you make him feel. for one, you get on his damn nerves. gojo hates your parent's company by nature simply because his parents and yours have been rival businesses for years now. he hates your unnecessary faces, which you would argue are incredibly necessary, and he hates your witty comments. gojo hates how you stack the spoons on the left side of the dishwasher instead of the right side, and he definitely hates that you like your bread lightly toasted instead of charred to a crisp like he does.
needless to say, he simply doesn't understand you, but part of him hopes to one day, even if this marriage is to keep appearances. you're quite lovely... not exactly his type but enough to make him keep chasing even after witnessing your ridiculous antics. that's why he doesn't question why you bring home two deli sandwiches, one for him and one for you, on the weekends. he doesn't question how or why he always wakes up with an arm slung around your waist.
despite this, he knows better. arranged marriages are everything but permanent, and it's never smart to get emotionally involved with someone who serves no other purpose than to bring his company a leg up in the industry. the two of you miraculously live the same story, and yet it feels too difficult to try to understand the other person.
"i want to hold your hand," gojo leans over to you, "can i do that?"
"there aren't any cameras around."
"i'm aware," he parrots, mimicking your words earlier.
he genuinely wants to be close to you.
you offer him your hand, palm facing up. he takes it slowly, as if testing the waters to see how far you'll let him go before you shove him away and scurry off to sleep.
to his surprise, he waits for the shove that never comes.
gojo's hand is so much larger than yours. his hands are pretty, nails trimmed short while his fingers are long and slender. he gently intertwines your hand in his own before placing it on the pillow next to him and settling into the bed again.
this is very unprofessional.
if your parents saw the two of you like this right now, all hell would break loose. thank goodness the room is dark, and nobody has to see how embarrassed you look right about now.
gojo chuckles deeply, his white lashes fluttering as he gives a satisfied exhale. this is one step closer to hopefully making your walls come down, and to your surprise: it's working.
"goodnight, princess," your husband tuts, using that nickname in a derogatory sense to poke at your business status.
gojo also doesn't question the fact both of your hands remained linked throughout the night, waking up to the sight of your small hand still loosely clasped with his. it's like even in sleep, the two of you still search for one another. you look so peaceful like this... you're still fast asleep next to him, lips parted as you rest soundly.
your hand unconsciously squeezes his own in your sleep, as if making sure that you're still linked to him in some sort of way.
know that gojo will definitely give you hell for it when you wake up.
© YUNYMPHS 2023 do not repost/edit/copy my works.
