#chappell roan cw | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andywritingstuff · 2 months ago

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Is it casual?

cw. suggestive, angst, reader is kinda toxic, inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan

wc: 2.1k words :o

What happens in the closet, stays in the closet - or so Ieri Shoko believes.

A singular kiss, product of the stupid, childish game of Seven Minutes in Heaven she played with her friends and classmates. You kissed her, a simple kiss that broke a dam inside her and made her flood with emotion, but she knew better. She knew that it wouldn't be more than that. Maybe you didn't even like women like she did. Maybe you didn't see her the way she saw you, and it's fine! It's not like she cares or anything, right?

She'd rather die than be with Gojo or Geto, but you? God, she'd rather die than not be in your life. Whether as a friend or a lover, she doesn't care; she's just thankful that she has you in her life. She realized it the day you came to Jujutsu High, all shy and anxious.

She remembers perfectly, how you wouldn't even dare look up from your feet, all fidgety - how wouldn't you? You were in a new school, with people you knew nothing about. Transitioning to this after living a semi-normal life is nothing easy. And to top it all off, you were paired with two of the strongest and a reverse cursed technique user? The bar was higher than usual.

It was Gojo’s idea to make you a little welcome party, but Shoko contributed more than usual, showing enthusiasm masked as nonchalance, as usual, but her friends could sense it brewing under her skin - that attraction that might very well be unrequited.

But it didn't matter. All that mattered is how your eyes lit up in surprise and excitement at being welcomed, how your giggles made Shoko’s heart flutter, how your closeness almost made her blush. Thank goodness for that sliver of self-control that she still has.

As the months passed, said attraction only seemed to grow. It wasn't usual for Shoko to let go of that laid-back act, but with you, she found herself being alive, laughing at your (lame attempts of) jokes and touching you more than usual. Holding your hand as she guided you through the school, or maybe her fingers lingering when she wanted to give you something. Perhaps you noticed her head resting on your shoulder when you two had those now regular sleepovers, or her hand on your thigh, or her eyes lingering on your side profile, lips aching for a little bit of a taste.Just a little bit of you, and her thirst will be quenched.

“Something on your mind?” Shoko asked with you sitting between her legs, her hands massaging your tense shoulders and feeling the knots created because of stress on them through the fabric of your shirt, “you're tense.” She commented - as if it wasn't obvious. You're nearly as fidgety as the first time she saw you and your eye bags now surpass Geto’s (if that's even possible).

“Nothing,” you had tried to lie to her, but she just scoffed and that made you smile - although half-heartedly. “It's just…” There it was, with you talking her ear off about your worries. And she let you, of course, she's your best friend and you're the love of her life. Or her teenage years.

She hummed and nodded along with your words, listening to you. Slowly, the tension melted away like it was never there and you fell asleep beside her on her bed, her eyes tracing your features and playing with strands of your hair, tracing your face with the tips of her fingers like she intended to memorize every single detail of it. The memory of that first and only kiss between you two replayed in her mind like a broken record.

How you looked at her. She remembers it all too clearly - Saturday. It was you, Geto, Gojo and herself, all third years. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t extremely hot, either. All of you decided to hang out at Gojo’s room, and between jokes the idea of that stupid game came to light.

You and Geto. Geto and Gojo. Shoko and Gojo. You and Shoko.

Both men cheered her on silently while she was short-circuiting, the usually calm Ieri Shoko blushing and stuttering and almost ridiculously tripping over air as she walked with you to that cramped space.

Two minutes passed, and Shoko couldn’t quite meet your gaze. She attempted to reach for a cigarette, but she left them all in her bedroom.

“Hey…” You had spoken up first, looking at her with a tiny smile she couldn’t ignore even if she tried. “What happens in the closet stays in the closet, right?” Shoko hummed, nodding.

“Yep. What happens in the closet, stays in the closet.”

Another minute in silence passed, but it felt like an eternity.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question made her think she was going to pass out. Maybe she’s delirious because of the cramped space. Oxygen is not properly reaching her brain.

Still, she nodded. Slow, tentative, like she was afraid you might fly away scared like a little baby bird. And just as slow, in between giggles and quiet apologies, you kissed her. It was brief, just a mere peck on the lips, but she swears her brain chemistry was forever altered. Your lips tasted like grape soda, the only one available at the dispensing machines that day, and your laughter afterward was breathy. Bubbly. Lively.

For a long time, Shoko convinced herself that what happened in the closet stays in the closet, even if a part of her always wondered why you did that and worse, did you kiss Gojo or Geto, too? But it’s not like she has any right to be jealous, right? You all were just friends, you and her closer than anyone.

“You’re suuuuuuch a loser, Koko!” Utahime’s voice was metallic through the phone. It was one of their daily calls, and Utahime was probably fed up with Shoko going on and on about you. “Why don’t you just ask her out already? She won’t say no!” She insisted for what felt like the umpteenth time, but Shoko, as always, sighed.

“I can’t just ask her out, Utahime. What if she doesn’t like girls?” Shoko repeated the same argument over and over again. What if she doesn’t like girls? What if she says she’s just experimenting and playing around? What if we’re not compatible and I ruin our friendship? What if she thinks liking girls is weird and cuts me off entirely?

“You won’t know if you keep cowering, loser,” Utahime blew a raspberry, and Shoko laughed mirthlessly at the childish act, “besides, if she doesn’t like you, it’s her loss! You’re amazing. And I’m not just saying that because I’m your friend!” A beat. Shoko just groaned. “C’mon, I need to get back my best friend stamp! She stole it from me!”

So she did. She asked you.

Calling out your name in a soft, sing-song tone to catch your attention, you turned around and smiled at her. Utahime’s words still rang through Shoko’s mind, making her braver… Even if it’s just to stop being called a loser.

“Do you like women?” She blurted out once you two were alone in the classroom, not wanting to face anyone that wasn’t you. “Like, romantically?” God, she sounds so pathetic.

You stuttered for a second, unsure of what to say. How to react. Looking down at your shoes, you hummed. “Yes, I do.” Once those words left your lips, Shoko felt her entire body loosening up, a wave of relief washing over her.

Thank goodness.

“Me too.” She confesses, and you looked up at her with those wide, surprised eyes. That naturally easy smile grew on her lips again

It wasn’t unusual to find Shoko looking for you. It wasn’t unusual of you to find you looking for Shoko. And it certainly wasn’t unusual to find you making out behind the closed doors of the medical room - especially after long, grueling missions in which you were out of contact for days at the time.

Her feelings for you didn’t subside, in fact, they grew stronger than ever, even in the distance while she studied medicine. It was only two years, but it felt like an eternity. The calls, the text messages, the weekend getaways were the only things keeping her sane.

And now that you’re together again, it’s the happiest she’s been in a long time. The lines between friends and lovers had long been blurred, but neither one wanted to acknowledge the situation, especially not Shoko. She didn’t want complications in her line of work, and much less in her private life.

Still, she can’t help that fiery feeling that lights on her chest whenever anyone asks what you two are and you just deny the chemistry that has been brewing for years already, ignoring her whenever the two of you are in public just to melt into her arms whenever she holds you and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. How could you so easily ignore that and then come back to her whenever you crave affection?

Worse of all, why does she let you?

The weight of what happened once in a stuffy closet all those years ago still hangs heavy over her head, making her want to keep you around. “What happens in the closet, stays in the closet.” You both agreed to it, but it just eats away at her and makes her wonder why the hell she agreed to it in the first place. Wasn’t she worthy of someone who loved her outside the comfort of a secluded space? Wasn’t she worthy of someone that loved her shamelessly and openly?

She thought, for some reason, that you’d think she deserved better. She does, but it doesn’t seem that way.

“We’re just casual, Koko. Don’t read too much into it.” You mentioned one day, using that adorable nickname only you and Utahime used, but it sounded so much more sweet coming from your candied lips; the lips she has already memorized the taste of. “I don’t want to complicate things. You understand, right?”

Shoko sat in silence, observing into nothingness while twirling a strand of hair in her fingers, that burning feeling settling on her chest once more: familiar yet consuming, a rage like no other that threatened to destroy her from the inside out. “Of course. I understand,” she smiled, although a bit crooked, like it was a mask that risked slipping off. “Don’t worry about it.”

You said you were casual, but is it casual when her kisses disappear in between your legs and your fingers tangle in her hair? Is it casual when she touches you in a way that has you seeing stars behind your eyes and your entire body trembles in the way only she knows how to make you? Is it casual when you can’t control the mewls that spill past your lips?

Is it casual when she’s looking at you like she’s drunk off of you alone? Or is it casual when her touches grow soft and she takes care of you in a way you never quite learned how to reciprocate?

Is it casual when, despite her busy schedule, she makes time to take you out on little dates you insist are entirely platonic while she looks at you like you hung the stars and the moon?

Maybe it is. Maybe she lets herself put on those rose colored glasses because she’s not ready to let you go; to let go of the one and only person in her life that has made her feel alive and that life’s worth living. Maybe love is supposed to be as hurtful as you make it out to be. Maybe feeling like she’s drowning all the time is what’s normal. Love is imagining a whole life ahead of her with you included, by her side, like you’ve been ever since that day she met you in third year. Love is feeling numb and empty when you’re here, but worse if you leave. It’s pretending nothing hurts. Ever.

It’s hard being casual when a part of her resides permanently in you. It’s hard being casual if the ghost of your presence haunts her even in her waking moments. It’s hard being casual when her anxiety spikes up because you haven’t texted her, or worse, when you do text her but your tone seems off - like she did something wrong. Not even her laid-back attitude can mask the nerves you make her feel, but that much was clear ever since day one, wasn’t it?

Why did she let this drag on so long? Why do you wonder why she’s so bitter when you’re the reason for it?

a/n: happy belated christmas <3

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