#am having a sad ass day but know what makes me smile. these idiots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seeingivy · 8 months

Note

Hi!! Can you do an angsty song fic for “hits different” with Gojo? Love the ts series !!❤️

hits different

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: older brothers best friend!satoru, teenagers being dumb teenagers, drinking, satoru calls reader belle, reader spends a fuck ton of money on toji's credit card

an: HELLO SWEETIE PIE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DA LOVE IM GLAD YOU'VE BEEN ENJOYING IT SO FAR. this ended up at a 9k so I hope you enjoy pookie

present day

“Are you even listening to anything I’m saying?” he asks, his hands folded across his menu.

You close your own menu, setting it neatly on top of the plates, as you look over at him - the look in his eyes downright murderous. Granted, sticking your nose in the menu while he was trying to talk to you for the past twenty minutes couldn’t have helped, but he should cut you some slack. You’re really hungry.

It’s then and there that you see the look, that twitch in his right eye, and know exactly what’s going to happen. Toji Fushiguro, the accountant you’ve been dating for the last six months, is about to break up with you.

“It’s like you aren’t even paying attention when I talk to you, when I’m trying to sit here and tell you how I’m feeling.”

“Okay. So tell me how you’re feeling, Toji.”

He flares his nostrils, exasperated by your response. You thought it was polite. But you’ve been told your tone is downright argumentative, like grating nails on a chalkboard.

And then Toji lays out his final card, waiting for your broken expression.

“I’m breaking up with you. You-you and me. We’re done.”

No broken expression comes. Because you don’t let idiots like Toji think they have power over you, your feelings for even a second.

“Okay. Well, I still came here to eat dinner so could you pass me the main menu?”

You give him your best smile, sickly sweet, and it pushes him over the edge.

“Are you fucking serious? You’re not going to say anything to that? Anything at all? I just broke up with your pathetic ass and you don’t even feel a bit sad about it?”

You set the menu down again, crossing your wrists against your chest.

“Do you want me to, Toji? Because I can if you want me to.”

He gets even more frustrated, standing up at the table to yell his final words before he storms out.

“Do you know what your problem is, Y/N?”

“Please enlighten me. I’m dying to know.”

“You-you’re shit to be around. Literally the most frustrating, agitating, irritating person I’ve ever met. You can’t ever take anything at face value - you just argue and argue because it’s the only thing you know how to do. True love could knock on your door and you’d send it running away with that cold, dark heart in your chest. Because you’re hard to love.”

You clench your fists under the table, drawing blood against your palms.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t as agreeable as you wanted me to be. Surely the secretary you’ve been fucking for the last three months we were dating is a sweeter taste in your mouth than I am.”

“Wait, what-”

“If you’re going to fuck another girl while you’re dating me, make sure you don’t butt dial me while you’re doing it, sweetheart.”

He furrows his brow, ears pink from what you’re sure is embarrassment as he storms off. You turn your head over your neck, lifting your hand to signal Nobara, Megumi, and Itadori to join you at the table.

They all awkwardly take the empty seats at the table, Itadori immediately reaching for the free bread on the table and Megumi reaching for the bottle of wine.

“You okay?” Megumi asks, a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Toji has this really, really shit habit of leaving his stuff everywhere. His sunglasses, his keys, his wallet.”

You hold the wallet in the air, Nobara immediately snatching it from your hands and pulling out his credit card.

“No way.” she says, immediately running through the menu to find the most expensive thing to eat.

“He’ll cancel it tomorrow. So, we should make the most of it tonight.” you say, the three of them smiling back at you.

“You know, I’d feel half bad about this but he cheated on you for three months, so I really, really don’t.” Megumi says, ordering another bottle of wine.

Itadori puts his hand on yours, squeezing once as he asks.

“Are you sad about it?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, come on. She’s heartless. Ever since that idiot she dated from her hometown took her heart and went running with it, she’s been cold ever since.” Kugisaki says, spreading the leftover butter on the bread she just stole from Itadori.

“Exactly.” you say, smiling at the three of them.

You tilt the rest of your wine into the back of your throat, the sensation burning as you push it down.

You hate that after all these years, even the mention of him makes your head spin.

Satoru.

two years ago

“Go fuck yourself, Y/N.”

“Real clever, Getou. You really got me there.”

Getou immediately knocks you off your chair and starts wrestling with you on the ground - the two of you yanking each other’s arms and pulling each other's legs.

“Cut your hair, Getou. You look like a hillbilly with that uglyass manbun.”

“Check your attitude, Y/N. You’re getting bitchier as time goes on.”

You immediately reach up and grab a fistful of his hair, yanking hard as he elbows you in the eye. And you’re about to punch him straight in the stomach before you feel two arms around your waist, the hold firm, as you fight off the hold.

“That’s enough from you two, alright?” Satoru says, his voice in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s not enough, Satoru. I need to give him a piece of my mind.”

“You’re going to give him a piece of your mind with your fist, princess?”

He finally lets you go, Shoko mimicking his actions as she lets Getou go on the other side of the kitchen. You’re both glaring bloody murder at each other, the stupid look on his ugly face only enraging you more.

“Quit calling me princess, it’s stupid.” you murmur, lifting your hands up to fix the mess Getou made of your hair.

“Cmon, Belle. Don’t be like that.”

You cringe at the nickname, even worse than princess, as the memory comes straight to your mind. Third grade. Halloween Eve.

You were going to be Cinderella for Halloween - all set with fake glass slippers and a sparkly blue dress and butterfly hair clips. But Getou and Satoru had come home straight from their soccer practice, all muddy and disgusting, and accidentally sat on your costume.

The pretty blue dress you had saved all your allowance on was ruined and along with it, your hopes of impressing Haibara - the guy that you had a crush on at the time.

Except Satoru, in his infinite kindness that he’s always shared with you, dragged you to the costume store the day after, his hands wrapped around your waist as he biked the two of you there in the scorching midday October heat.

“Do you guys have any Cinderella dresses left?”

“They’re all sold out. We’re so sorry, sir.”

As the clerk walks away, Satoru turns over to you, a giddy smile on his face.

“Did you hear that? That lady just called me sir.”

“Really funny, Satoru.”

You push him into the stand by the cashier, as you stomp to the other side of the store. You look up at the little catalogs, the sparkly blue dress in the picture with a red “sold out” sign stamped on top of it. He catches up, his hand soft on your shoulder, as he talks.

“Sorry we messed up your dress, Y/N.”

You can feel the tears building in your eyes as you start aggressively swiping them away, trying to hide the fact that you were crying in front of Satoru. Knowing him, he was just going to run home and tell Getou so the two of them could laugh at you.

“No, you’re not. You probably did it on purpose.”

“We didn’t, I-I swear.”

“Getou literally told me yesterday that he thought it was stupid I wanted to be a princess for Halloween. That girls like me aren’t princesses, because they have a rotten attitude. He said I should dress up as the Scream instead.”

You look over at the ghost mask - all elongated and scary - and it only sends more tears running down your face.

“Hey. You can still be a princess if you want to be.” he says.

“No, I can’t. Because you guys ruined the costume I already did buy. And I don’t have the money for another one because I-I spent my entire allowance on that costume.”

Satoru pulls out his wallet and brings his hand down to yours, placing the crisp dollar bills in your hand. You look over at him and he’s smiling - the tips of his ears pink.

“Now you have money for the costume.”

“There’s still no costume, dumbass.”

Satoru drags you down the aisle and points at the sparkly yellow dress, his hand now slung around your shoulder again.

“They still have this one.”

“Belle? You want me to be Belle?”

“You’re more of a Belle than Cinderella. Getou’s right in the sense that you’re a little bit too harsh to be a Cinderella type.”

“Geez. Thanks Satoru.”

“But you’re smart, ambitious, headstrong enough to be a Belle. Cinderella’s the type of bitch to always back down from a fight. Belle on the other hand fights for what she wants, like you.”

You look over at him and smile, your heart pounding in your chest as the two of you biking back to the house with the sparkly yellow dress in the bag in between you guys.

“Just don’t fight to date a literal animal like Belle, okay? That’s bestiality.”

“Shut up, Satoru.”

You feel a hand on your head, shaking hard, and grounding you back in the moment. And at your irritation at Getou, who's still hurling insults at you from the other side of the room.

“She started it, Shoko.” he says.

“No, I didn’t. You’re the dumbass who-” you start.

“I’m so fucking sick of you, Y/N. You’re always fucking nagging me in some way or another. You know, I heard you crying the other day about how you’re the only girl in your class who's never had a guy like you. Maybe if you took a look in the fucking mirror you’d realize why. You’re insufferable to be around.”

You can feel the tears welling in your eyes - hot and angry - as you bolt straight out the door and down the street. You can faintly hear the three of them calling for you, but you reach straight for the bike on the curb and go as far as you can.

You make your way five blocks down from your house to eventually stop at the lake, resting the bike against the dock before you walk down. You take your shoes off and dip your feet in, watching the sun fall behind the water and the sky turn brilliant, beautiful shades of pink, orange, and yellow.

And when dark blue starts creeping in, you lay back against the dock and watch the stars trickle into the night sky, hundreds of tiny sparkling lights. Except your view of the sky is then obscured by Satoru’s face, upside down from your vantage point.

“Hi Belle.”

“Screw off.”

He sits down, taking his own shoes off and dipping his feet into the water to lie down next to you.

“Did you have to take my bike when you ran off? Yours was two feet away from it.”

“Closest one. Cry about it, Satoru.”

You both sit in silence, save for the sound of your feet splashing in the water as Satoru breaches the topic.

“Never had a guy like you, huh?”

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that? First, you watch Getou literally rip me a new one for no reason and now you’re here to rub it in my face?”

“You know that wasn’t what I was doing. Have I ever made fun of you like that?”

You sit up, running your hands through your hair, as you look down at the water, your leg sending ripples far beyond. You swallow hard, the tears rising to your eyes again.

“No, Satoru. I haven’t had a guy like me like that. I’m the only girl going into senior year who hasn’t been kissed by a guy.” you whisper, the confession making you turn red with embarrassment.

Satoru sits up, scooting closer to you so your knees are knocking each other, as you both look down at the water.

“So why’s that a big deal, Y/N? You’ve never cared about what people think, let alone men. I mean, you’re basically a misandrist at this point.”

You smile, looking over at his blue eyes, almost indiscernible in the dark of the night.

“It’s a big deal because I want someone to like me. I-I know that you all think I’m mean and I argue all the time and-and whatever, maybe it’s true. But, I want someone to like me. You know, butterflies, first kisses, someone who saves all their secret jokes for you.”

He puts his hand flat against your forehead, like he’s checking your temperature.

“You feeling okay? Who are you and what have you done with, Y/N?”

You shake his hand off, rolling your eyes at him, as you both laugh into the night.

“You’re so mean, Satoru. I hate you.”

He lifts one of his legs out of the water and turns to his side, so that he’s facing you. You mimic his motions, the look on your face bored as you look over at him.

“I’m going to tell you something, and it’s going to wound my ego a little bit, so don’t tell anyone okay?”

“You with a wounded ego? I would live for the day.”

He lightly nudges you before turning back down to the water, swishing the water with his legs.

“What you said isn’t true, Belle.”

“What part?”

“About going into highschool and not having a guy like you.”

“That guy who chased me around in first grade doesn’t count because he literally thought I was-”

He brings his hands down on your face, squishing your cheeks so hard that you can’t get another word out. His eyes are closed, his face only a few feet from yours.

“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?” he whispers, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

You nod as he lets go, giving you a satisfied smile. He turns his head back to the water, leaning over the dock.

“That guy in first grade did like you. And I like you too.”

He looks over and smiles and it makes your blood burn. You lift your hands to cover your pink face, the implication of the entire thing making your stomach burn with anxiety, embarrassment, and the gross, mushy gushy feelings you’ve had for Satoru for years. For the boy who always came to your defense when you’re fighting Getou, always came to your aid when you were crying, and the only, only person you’ve never argued with.

“So quit crying about it, okay? My type has always been girls like you.”

“Girls like me?”

“Argumentative.”

You nod as Satoru stands up, holding his hand out. And ignore the pounding in your chest when his skin touches yours. You both walk your bikes - you pushing his bike and him pushing yours back down the blocks as you cheese at each other in the dark, sharing a secret smile before Satoru ducks back into Getou’s room.

three months later

You push up on the counter, swirling the cup of lemonade in your hand as you watch everyone mill around the party.

Your parents went out of town on a business trip. Getou throws the biggest party of the summer. And specifically tells you to stay in your room, because no one likes freshmen at a party.

Yet here you are, drinking lemonade and watching everyone mill around the party. Getou’s trying too hard to hit on a girl way older than him and Shoko and Utahime are so blatantly flirting that its giving you physical pain to watch them pine the way they are any longer.

But there’s one person you haven’t seen. Satoru.

He should have been back from his family trip to Tokyo for the summer since school was starting next week and there’s no way that he would miss anything that Getou and Shoko planned.

Even the thought of him makes your heart race, his swift admission of his feelings for you that were all but unrequited right before he left. You feel a tap on your shoulder, throwing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey. Can you hand me a cup?”

You halfheartedly smile as you reach over, handing her a cup from behind you. She gives you a smile as she swirls through the random potion Getou was serving - a dark purple color. You’re sure there’s an unfathomable amount of liquor mixed in and that it tastes disgusting.

“You want some?”

“I’m good. Getou poisoned that for all I know.” you mutter, which elicits a laugh from her.

“Interesting guy. He’s cute, right?”

You gag, the thought making the lemonade you just drank roll over in your stomach.

“Disgusting. He’s my older brother.”

She laughs, pushing up on the counter to sit with you and smiles.

“My bad. He’s ugly, downright horrendous.”

“Thank you.”

You smile as you look over at her, her eyes scanning the mess of people in front of you two.

“Oh shit. Wait, you’re Y/N, right? Satoru was talking about you.”

And any good feeling you have is now replaced with a green, jealous monster. And that part of you - the one that argues, the one that feels bitter, anger so powerfully is fighting its way out.

“Y-yeah. How do you know Satoru?”

“I don’t. I just met him upstairs. I almost puked in your room but he stopped me, helped me to the bathroom, and held my hair for a while while I threw up.”

“He’s a real nice guy, isn’t he?” you say, the sarcasm dripping from you voice.

Of course the asshole shows up to your house and flirts with another girl in your bedroom. Typical.

“Yeah. Cute too.”

Just then, Satoru and Getou walked up to you - with complete opposite expressions on their faces. Satoru is shining like the sun, his cheeks tinted pink which you’re sure is from drinking. And Getou’s glaring at you like there’s no tomorrow, his forehead scrunched up in irritation.

“Y/N.”

“Getou.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Lemonade.”

Getou snatches the cup from your hand and sets it down and by the look on his face, you know he’s about to start a fight with you.

“Are you fucking dense? That’s not lemonade, dumbass.”

“Do you think I was born yesterday, idiot? I took it from the unopened bottle in the fridge.”

“You shouldn’t be here right now. You’re too young to be here.”

“You’re one year older than me, Getou. And don’t throw a party in my house if you don’t want me here.”

Satoru puts a hand on Getou’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear until he gives you one last glare and walks away. Satoru gives you a big smile but before he can talk, the girl from before cuts him off.

“Do you want to dance now? I promise I got all my vomit out earlier so I won’t throw up this time.”

She gives him a big smile, and you swear Satoru’s considering it by the way he pauses and looks at her, which is enough said for you. You push up off the counter, telling them you’ll be right back and run off to the lake again, this time stealing Getou’s bike from the curb.

You’re pushing your legs so hard that they’re hurting, the tears biting cold against your skin from how fast you’re going in the middle of the night. And when you make it to the dock, you throw his bike against the grass and angrily kick your shoes off as you start taking your clothes off.

Is it a good idea to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night, alone? No. But is every human person that would come to this park at the party? Yes.

Which is the only reason you take the plunge and stare up at the moon, a tiny silver crescent in the sky. You hear a splash behind you after a few minutes and are met with Satoru, wet hair matted on his forehead.

“Find your own lake, weirdo.”

“You know. You shouldn’t skinny dip in public. People could see you.”

You look over to his pile of clothes and shoes, neatly folded in the pile next to yours.

“Same goes for you, pervert.”

You roll your eyes at him as you cross your hands across your chest, turning to your back so you don’t have to look at him. He’s faster than you are, because suddenly he’s floating right in front of you, inches from your face.

“Did I hurt your feelings, princess?”

“Quit calling me that. It’s disgusting.”

He brings his hands to your face, pushing away the tangled wet mess of hair on your shoulders.

“You like it when I call you that.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do, Belle.”

“Satoru.”

“I’m not saying my piece till you say yours. And you want to hear mine, so talk.”

You take a deep breath as you look at his face - all calm and blank faced like he didn’t just do the biggest asshole move he could have.

“You’re a dick, you know that? First of all, you tell me all this shit about how you like me right before you leave. And then when you come back, the first thing I see is you talking to another girl? You were holding her hair in the bathroom, fondling god knows what in my bedroom and now you want to come here and skinny dip with me? I am not some consolation prize you get to have because she was bored of those ugly pool noodle dance moves you have and don’t ever think for a second that I will be.”

You finish, your chest heaving and a shiver running across your body from the cold water. And instead of a sincere, kind-hearted apology, an acknowledgement of what he did - Satoru Gojo is laughing in your face.

You reach forward to smack his face and he stops your hand in the air, tangling his fingers with yours.

“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?”

“You’re so fucking r-”

“Fondling? Pool noodle? Where do you even come up with this stuff?”

He brings his hands up to your cheeks and leans your head forward, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. You can feel your head short circuiting at the sensation, your arms tingling from how close he is.

“You’re so, so ridiculous you know that? I’m never going to get tired of you.” he whispers, the words making your hair stand on their ends.

“What-you can’t just say that and-”

“Why do you think I was in your room?”

“What?”

“I was in your room, because I was looking for you. And I thought I was being nice by stopping that girl from puking all over your sheets - because I know you hate laundry and Getou isn’t going to do it for you - so I took her to the bathroom.”

You can feel the embarrassment rushing to your face for misreading the situation entirely, taking the palms of your hands and rubbing them into your eye sockets. He laughs as he tangles his hands around your wrists, placing them around his own neck.

“Still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. When I saw you last. Are you still the only senior who hasn’t been kissed yet?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. But I-”

“Good.”

He leans forward, tangling his hands around your waist as he presses his warm lips to yours, his hands squeezing you as he laughs into your mouth. You don’t have much to compare it to, but by the way he’s hanging off your lips, you can tell he’s eager. Way too eager - to be kissing you of all things.

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“I like you too.”

His face breaks out into a smile, so big that it makes you smile too. And when he cups his hand around your face again to kiss the tip of your nose, you can feel your insides screaming. For him.

“No telling Getou. He’s going to kill me, okay?”

“As if. He literally hates me, he’d be glad if-”

“No. He can’t know. You-you’re his little sister. If he finds out I even looked at you this way, he-he’d end me where I stand. Trust me, Belle. If I break my promise, he'll never talk to me again.”

“What promise?”

“When we were little. He made me promise I wouldn’t like you.”

“And yet here you are. Naked in a lake with me.”

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.”

You lean into his touch again, pressing your lips against his, as the moon shines a bright light on the two of you in the dark.

four months later

You and Getou awkwardly stand in the kitchen, by the open bottles of champagne, as you both secretly circle the glasses behind your back. Getou has his moments - and this is one of them. When your parents put you on display like shiny trophies for their coworkers, bragging about how smart the two of you are.

“You decided where you’re going yet?”

“Tokyo or Kyoto, Toto.”

“Toto. Ew. You haven’t called me that since we were little, idiot.”

He brings his hand around your shoulder, tucking you into his arm as you lean against his shoulder, smiling. After Getou really realized you’d be leaving at the end of the year, he’s been nicer. Granted, he still fights like hell but he has his odd moments. Like this one.

“You’ll always be Get-toto to me.”

“I’ll get you a little Totoro plushie before you go, okay? So when those bastards you date fight with you, you’ll always be reminded you have a little bitch in you ready to fight.”

“Why are you praying for my downfall? You’re not gonna manifest a sweet, warm love for me?”

“Please. The guy you end up with will be all fireworks. Soft fireplace love has never been your thing.”

He ruffles your hair as Satoru walks up, his tie loosened already. He gives you a smile and then shakes hands with Getou, the three of you leaning against the granite countertops, watching your parents mingle through the crowd.

“D’you pick yet? Because Tokyo’s the right choice, Belle.”

“I’m still thinking, Satoru.”

“C’mon. Imagine it - you joining me and Getou in Tokyo. It would be really fun.”

Satoru’s just trying to piss you off. He knows that you’ve already picked Tokyo, because it means you don’t have to long distance date anymore. No more driving up to see each other in between, getting pulled away from each other by the constraints of time or distance or really anything else.

One of the smaller girls at the party tugs the end of your dress, whispering in her ear that she wants warm milk, which you happily oblige with. Satoru and Getou stay in their spots as you start rummaging through the kitchen, picking out a little glass and warming up the milk for her.

“Honey?”

“Yes, love?” Satoru responds, turning his gaze over to you.

You feel your eyes widen and Satoru’s face turn red as he looks over at you, realizing you were asking the girl if she wanted honey in her milk and not calling him. You both look over to Getou, who has a very strange look on his face that you can’t really discern.

Fuck.

You hand the girl her milk and stand farthest away from Satoru, giving Getou a weak smile as you all stare at the party again.

“Look. It’s Shayla.”

You and Satoru crane your necks over the other side of the room, one of your neighbors daughters saying hello to all the guests. Which you’re sure you’re getting to get a lecture about now, since you didn’t want to spend the time saying hi to all of them.

“Remember when you had a really big crush on her, Satoru? Since we were kids?”

“Uh, yeah. But I was just really little, y’know.”

You can feel your throat drying as Getou pushes on, each word making your heart burn in your chest.

“Yeah, but. She was basically your first love. Who forgets that? Who compares to that?”

“I don’t know if I would say she was my first l-”

“Then who is, Satoru? Because it’s not my sister, right?” he asks, his voice firm.

Satoru said that he would tell Getou when you officially announced you were going to Tokyo. Because once you lived in the same city, nothing would stop you from being with him - not even his best friend.

“No, no, why would it be her? She’s been annoying us since we were little, arguing with us and all that. You-you’re right. It is her. Shayla’s always been my type.” he says, his gaze lowering to the floor.

You feel your heart sink, twist into a jumbled mess as Getou smiles and gestures for her to come over. There’s a fair amount of protests from Satoru as she walks over, which you know is him trying to save face. He deals his final blow the second she walks up, definitively and wholly breaking your heart into pieces.

When Getou starts setting the two of them up. When Satoru actually takes her number down. When she presses a kiss to his cheek and winks before she walks away.

“I have to pee, Toto. Cover for me?”

“Yeah, got it.”

And the second you walk away and Getou watches you wipe the tears from your face as you walk past, Getou knows he’s right.

“Getou. You have to-”

“No, Satoru. Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wait, what- you can’t just-”

“She’s my little sister. She’s not some toy you get to play around with till you figure out how you feel. And you don’t get to embarrass her by hiding her away either.”

“We were going to tell you when she told you she’s going to Tokyo. You-you’re the reason I hid her away. I’ve liked her for years and I put that away because you didn’t want me with her. And now I-”

“Don’t blame your shortcomings on me. Even if you did have to hide it in front of me, I would never call the girl I loved annoying to her face and throw everything she’s hated about herself in her face to make a point.”

“I didn’t- Getou you’re the one who made her hate that about herself and-”

“You love her?”

“Obviously. Why would I go to the trouble of hiding something when-”

“Talk to her again and I will literally break your face. In what world do you treat someone you love like that?”

As Satoru watches Getou walk away and thinks about how hard you’re crying upstairs, he realizes he’s in his worst nightmare. Losing his best friend and the girl he loved on the same day.

You and Satoru make promises that day.

He promises that he’ll wear his heart on his sleeve from this day forward. You promise that you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can ever touch it again.

present day

“You’re no fun, Y/N.” Itadori says, pushing the paper into your space.

“And you suck at tic-tac-toe.” you respond, sliding it back.

Nobara and Megumi laugh as the three of you sink back into your chairs in the back of the conference room, your marketing manager droning on about stocks, the future of the company, and god knows what as you try to drone him out and focus on winning your seventh round of tic-tac-toe with Itadori. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t take much.

“And lastly, we’ve employed a new marketing manager to work with the sales team. The four of you back there can decide who he’s going to be working with for onboarding.” says Ijichi.

You nod as the four of you turn to each other, matching smirks on your face.

“Rock paper scissors?” Nobara asks.

“Deal.”

It’s not that you’d hate to work with the new marketing manager. But the past three marketing managers were driven out by the end of the month because of you guys.

Megumi was too harsh with the first girl, who left crying when he asked her if she got her marketing degree from a trash can. Nobara drove the second guy away when she found out he chewed too loudly while eating lunch, claiming that he wasn’t a good fit for the company. And Itadori drove the last girl away, because she fell in love with him and he didn’t return her feelings, which made her resign the next day.

“You know, logically. It’s your turn.” Megumi says, holding his fist up to Itadori.

“Nope. We honor the rock paper scissors tournament in this friendship.

You mince your words four rounds later because you’re the pouty loser getting stuck with the stupid marketing manager. You slide back into your chair as you massage your temples, preparing yourself for the upcoming headache for the next month.

Either a lover, an incompetent idiot, or a loud chewer.

Nobara and Itadori sling their hands around your shoulders, pinching your cheeks, as Ijichi swings the door open and the marketing manager walks in. He readjusts his tie - loosely hanging from his neck - and when you lift your head to actually make eye contact with him, you immediately sit up in your chair, your skin burning.

Because Satoru Gojo is no longer six thousand miles away in Tokyo - out of sight and out of mind. He’s three feet away from you - taller, older, and more attractive than the time you saw him last.

Everyone files out of the conference room, leaving the two of you standing miles away from each other, with you refusing to meet his eye. He walks up and holds his hand out, a shy smile on his face.

“Satoru Gojo.”

You put your hand in his - the touch warm, soft, all the way you remembered it.

“Y/N L/N.” you respond, mimicking his voice.

“Y/N, huh? You look more like a Belle to me.” he responds, smirking as he walks out to your cubicle labeled right across.

You stomp right out, following him into your cubicle, as he takes the seat across from yours and starts eating the candy in your jar. You roll your eyes as you smack his hand, the smile on his face so big it's pissing you off.

“Just so you know, there’s a very notorious reputation for running out the idiot who takes your position. And trust me, I’ll have you out by the end of the week.”

“Is that a challenge, princess?”

“You can’t flirt with me. I’m technically your boss, Satoru.”

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. We all have our vices, princess.” he says, sticking one of your caramel candies in your mouth before pushing off your desk and making his way down the other side of the office.

Six hours later, you’re face planting into the table at dinner, the words echoing through your mind. Along with all the memories you buried deep, deep down and tried to forget. Of running off to the lake all summer, Satoru washing your hair softly in the showers after, of nestling up in his arms to call it a day.

Of Satoru rubbing circles into your back every time you fought with someone, of you kissing him after every fight he had with his dad, of whispering I love you against each other's lips like it was a sacred oath.

“You look horrible.” Megumi says, sharing a judgemental look with Itadori.

“Shut up.”

“It’s just one of those lame interns. Just do what Nobara did - say he smells bad.” Itadori responds, the three of them laughing.

You dig your forehead into your forearms, only lifting your head to drink more of Itadori’s beer, as the thoughts race through your head.

In all honesty, the problem has always been easy to avoid. Two years ago, Satoru smashed your heart into tiny pieces. You decided that you wouldn’t go to Tokyo or Kyoto like you planned and picked up everything and moved to New York instead.

You didn’t say goodbye. To him or to anyone. Your parents drove you to the airport and Getou gave one of those weird, repressed older brother hugs and then you turned on your heel and never went back.

You have a nice job. Friends who love you. Your dating life is abysmal at most - a long stream of guys you’ve ghosted, fought, and broken up with. Unfazed, unperturbed - calm, cool, and collected.

It doesn’t bother you. Because you stuck by your promise. That you’ll tuck your heart away where no one can touch it. But it only takes five minutes of interaction with him and you can feel the concrete walls around your heart turning into clay, softened by the sweetness he’s always possessed, the softness he’s always shared with you.

You have to drive him out of here as fast as you can.

Seven weeks later and Satoru remains at the company, steadfast and true.

It drives you crazy, having him around. So up in your space, his smell lingering in your cubicle even after he walks away. He makes stupid jokes that make you smile so hard that you’re fighting the tears in your eyes and flirts with no shame like it’s breathing air.

All in all, he’s everything you loved about Satoru, in your head again. In an even more attractive body, because of course time is nice to the asshole and he’s fit in all the right places.

You ignore him the best you can, until you can’t anymore.

You make it down to the parking lot, your high heels in your hand as you unlock your car and start loading your stuff into the trunk.

That’s when you see him, slumped against his car with the hood popped open, with a very, very confused look on his face. You clear your throat loudly, which catches his attention.

“Oh. Heading out late, Y/N?”

“Looks like it. You?”

“Ah. I actually meant to leave early today but my car hasn’t been starting so.”

You take one look at his pouty face and give in. You slam the trunk of your car shut and whisper the words out, so fast that you can’t even think to regret them.

“Get in the car.”

“Huh?”

“Get in the car, Satoru. Unless you want to stay here for the rest of the weekend, then be my guest.”

He gives you the brightest smile you’ve seen as he all but jogs over and settles into the front seat of your car, slumping down in the seat that’s pushed all the way up. You back up out of the parking garage as he plugs in the address for his apartment, a modest thirty minutes away from the office.

“You know, you can move the chair back. I’m not going to bite your head off if you do.”

He laughs and you see his shoulders deflate as he adjusts the seat, his long legs now spread in the open compartment underneath him.

“What a shame. I’m into that type of thing, Y/N.”

“Always the perverted one, weren’t you?” you respond, smiling over at him.

Stop it, Y/N. Stop it.

“Who the hell sits up here anyway? A toddler?”

“Oh. It was just this guy I was talking to. He was really short but he always felt the need to monitor my driving so he pulled the seat all the way up to watch the lines.” you respond, turning left onto the street.

“Ah. One of your many romantic escapades, so I’m told. I’ve heard you’ve become quite the player, Y/N.” he says, leaning against the glass.

“Learned from the best, Satoru. Except this time, I don’t get overinvolved.” you respond.

He laughs, leaning back in the chair as you both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension hanging in the air eating at your skin. It hangs in the air, like an embarrassing elephant in the room.

Satoru’s the one who pokes it.

“Then, you should get involved with me. Again.”

You keep your promises to yourself. But Satoru keeps his too. An oath to wear his heart on his sleeve is translated into him fighting to get you back.

You slam the breaks so hard that his forehead goes straight into the sun visor, a groan leaving his mouth. You apologize and immediately reach forward, cupping the side of his face and eyeing the angry red mark on his forehead.

“Yikes. I’m sorry, Cyclops. That caught me off guard.”

“Be careful, there. Almost thought you cared for a second.” he says, smirking.

You park the car in front of his apartment and look out the window, the words making your head spin.

“You know, I can tell you want to.” he says.

You turn around and frown, reaching forward to flick into the soft skin of his cheek.

“Please. You’re not even all that-”

“You brushed your hand against mine when we walked to the conference room. I caught you staring at me during the company lunch on Thursday. And I know you just stopped talking to the short guy because Itadori told me. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The worst has happened. Because for the second time, you are irrevocably and deeply in love with Satoru Gojo.

Maybe you never stopped.

Just like you were when you were seven, you’re incredibly drawn to him, like two magnets being pulled together. What was supposed to be one date, one lousy hookup like every other guy you’ve talked to in the past year turned into a complicated, mushy gushy feelings mess.

You stayed over at his house that night. But then he was shirtless, singing in the kitchen as he made you breakfast in bed the next morning. And little by little, he’s crawled into every little part of your life.

He insists on driving you to work, buying you a sugary overpriced latte you would never splurge on for yourself and a pastry to go with it on the way. He claims he doesn’t want any but reaches over the seat to take a bite and then press a chocolatey kiss to your lips.

He hangs out with you and your friends after work. And like always, he always backs you up in the thousands of petty arguments he has with each of them and then tells you that it turns him on when he drives you home.

He draws little shapes into your skin every night, asking you to guess the little drawings he’s making while his soft, smooth voice lulls you to sleep. And when you wake up, you can’t help but watch him, the little freckles he had when he was seventeen still the same.

It makes your heart warm. The soft feelings you’ve always had for him, they make you warm.

Which is why you curse yourself for ever thinking things could be different, when he drops the ball three months later.

“Can you drive me to the airport on Friday, princess?” he asks, his breaths tickling your nose.

“Where are you going, Toru?” you murmur, burrowing yourself deeper into his skin.

“Home. The job posting was temporary, remember?” he responds, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“Oh. Are- you’re not going to look for a job here?’

“Nah. Time’s up right?” he says, the question hanging in the air.

And when you wake up the next morning, to find him in your kitchen with a bowl of cereal all poured out for you and a bouquet of flowers, you can’t help but yell at him. After the shit he pulled last night.

“You should probably go to your apartment and pack your stuff up. Since you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“We can do it tomorrow, Belle. Most of my stuff is here anyway.” he says, holding the bowl close to his mouth as he leans over the counter.

“I can’t take you tomorrow. Megs said he will so you can ask him for help. He-he’s actually on his way now to get you.” you murmur, crossing your hands against your chest.

He frowns, coming up close to you to wrap his arms around you which you quickly side shuffle out of. You push past him and walk into the kitchen, clutching the countertop hard. Satoru smiles to himself before he turns around, knowing he’s won the war.

“Do you want me to stay, Belle?”

You roll your eyes, the audacity of him even suggesting that just pissing you off more. Irritated, because of course he said that. Agitated, because he can read you like a book.

“No, Satoru. Go home.”

“You sure? Because it seemed like-”

“Do you really think it would bother me if you left, Satoru? Do you really think you’re different from any other guy I talked to?”

Satoru frowns, the angry look on your face the opposite of the love-struck, warm confession he was expecting. But then again, this was you. Argumentative to your core - so he just needs to wrangle it out of you.

“I know I’ve been here longer than the rest of them, that’s for sure.”

“And do you think that makes you special, Satoru? Do you sincerely, genuinely think any of that means I would want you to stay right now?”

“Well, wait- I’m not just any other guy now, you and I, we-”

“We what? Have history? A long term fling doesn’t make us soulmates, Satoru.”

“That wasn’t a fling. You and I were-”

“You and I were no different than what we are now, Satoru. You should have known to not get over involved. I told you from the start that this is how it would be. You leaving didn’t faze me the first time and it won’t faze me the second time either, sweetheart.”

Satoru moves past you, yanking his hoodie on and grabbing his key off the hook as he swings the door open. And when he shuts the door behind you, his tear-stained face being the last thing you see, you sink onto the floor and can’t help but sob.

For the first boy you ever loved. Who burned you so bad, that you burned him too. Who soothed over every angry, irritating, argumentative part of you, until it was something you unleashed on him too.

You wonder why you let yourself into these sinkholes in the first place.

“Hey, man. Have a safe flight home, okay? It was nice getting to know you.” Itadori says, lugging the last of Satoru’s luggage out of the back.

Satoru gives Itadori one last hug before Megumi starts lugging his bags into the terminal with him, the intense feelings from the day prior still hanging on his chest.

“You-you’ll take care of her right? After I’m gone?” Satoru asks, as he pulls into the line.

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

“Oh. Yeah, I will. This time around though, I’m not letting Itadori and Nobara invite her to the bar.”

Satoru smiles, the thought of you drunk, making his heart ache. One of his many favorite sights is you on your fourth glass of wine - when your lips are all pink and when you climb all over him, whispering the corniest, cheesiest things that come to mind.

“Princess. You’re kind of cutting off my circulation here.”

“Sss-sorry, Satoru. Wanted to get closer.” you whisper, tangling your arms around his neck and readjusting in his lap.

“What’s closer than this princess? You’re literally on top of me right now.” he responds, cupping your face to push the hair away from your face.

“Not close enough.”

“The only thing closer than this is if you crawled into my skin and became a part of my bloodstream.”

“Is there a way to do that? Because I would.”

“You wanna be that close to me, huh princess?”

“Even when I’m sitting right next to you, right on top of you, literally skin to skin - I still can’t get enough of you. I want to be this close, all the time.”

Satoru shakes the memory from his mind as the people behind him gesture him to move forward in line, his heart hanging heavier in his chest.

“She always drinks too much, doesn’t she?” he says.

“Well, yeah. It’s usually funny. But now she’s going to go back into her moping, angsty teenager phase for the next seven months. I’ll probably be dragging her out of that bar on her legs, for all I know.”

“Y/N? Angsty? That’s real funny.”

“No, I’m telling you. When we first met her, all this girl did was cry in the bar. Her sadness was like…contagious or whatever it was making me depressed. One time she sang All Too Well, on the countertop while sobbing until the bartender literally had to kick her ass out.”

“The first guy she dated when she moved here was that bad, huh?”

“No. Itadori and Nobara have this running theory, they’ve been trying to figure out who he is for a while. The one thing we know for sure is that he’s definitely from her hometown and that she broke up with him right before she moved here.”

And that’s when Satoru gets it. That you’re a goddamn liar. And that you definitely did want him to stay.

Satoru does the only thing he can. Drops everything and runs straight out the airport to make his way back to your apartment. He’ll be damned if he makes the same mistake twice.

You look up from your spot, sprawled on the cold tiles of your kitchen floor, when you hear a key turn in the lock. You immediately sit up to find Satoru, an almost angry look on his face, when he storms in and bends down in front of you.

“Forget your diapers, grandpa?”

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“It’s a long flight. You don’t want to have an accident do you?”

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, squishing hard so you can’t get another word. And what he says next, the same words he uttered to you in that stupid lake, sober you u pearl fast.

“Princess, I really, really love it when you argue with me like that but can you please just let me finish?”

You swallow hard as he gives you a satisfied smile, giving him a soft nod.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“God, Satoru. Just quit it with this shit, I already told you no and I mean-”

“You also told me that it didn’t faze you when we broke up the first time. But then I find out, you were slurring my name in bars and crying about it for months.”

“So? Do you want a cookie or something?”

“So you’re a liar. And now I want to know the truth. Do you want me to stay?”

His eyes are burning, bigger than you’ve ever seen them. The gaze itself is piercing, making the ends of your hair stand up on your arms and legs. You shake his hand off your face as you stand up, scrambling to the other side of the kitchen.

“I don’t want you to stay.”

“Yes, you do. You’re lying, Y/N.”

“No, I’m not. One measly piece of information my friends mention in passing doesn’t mean it’s about you, Satoru.”

He brings his hands around your wrist, curling his fingers around the skin and squeezing twice.

“I made the dumbest mistake of my life. I had an opportunity, a real one to be honest about how I felt and I fucked it up, okay? I’ve regretted it every day since you walked away. You were going to go to school - with me. We were going to be together. But then you picked up everything and move to the other side of the fucking planet to halfheartedly date all these guys without a care in the world.”

“What does stating facts do for you, Satoru? What is it you want me to say?”

“You know what I want to hear. Say it, Belle.”

“What? That I left because of you? That I loved you so much that it made my heart hurt? That every second I’m around you it only feels like my love gets bigger for you? That the only person I can’t bring myself to get over is you? Because what does me saying that do for me because you’re just going to-”

Satoru smiles before he closes the space between you, pushing you into the counter and cradling your cheeks in his hand. He’s leaning into the kiss, so hard that you can feel almost his entire body weight on you as his lips press against yours.

He’s shaking hard and smiling into the kiss, pulling you back in every time you try to stop, his hands running in your hair as he laughs into your mouth.

“Was it so hard to tell me that you wanted me to stay?” he whispers, giggling into your ear as he presses kisses into your neck.

“Was it so hard to tell me you wanted to? You just had to come have this big moment with me here when-”

“Yes, I did. You deserved a big, lengthy love confession when you were seventeen, at that stupid party. I’m trying to do right by you through this dramatic shit now.”

“Because this is doing right by me? Making me cry and then running back?”

“It’s romantic, princess. I ran out of an airport for you.”

“After we argued. That kind of puts a damper on it.”

“Oh, shut up. You know argumentative girls have always been my thing.”

You place your hands around his face, yanking his head out of the crook of your neck as you hold his face in your hands, the skin soft. He still has all the little freckles, the same eyes and nose that you loved when you were seventeen.

That you love. You love him.

“Satoru.”

“Yeah?”

“How did you get a key to my house?”

He rolls his eyes as he breaks out of your hold, sticking his tongue out at you.

“That would have been a really sweet moment for a confession. You ruined it, princess.”

You smile as you make your way into his arms again, looking up at him from his hold.

“I made a copy of your key, Y/N.”

“That’s illegal, Toru. Breaking and entering.”

“You like to argue. I like to break rules. Everyone has their vices.”

You bring your hands back up to his cheeks again, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks as you press a kiss to the side of his cheek.

“Isn’t love the greatest vice, Toru?” you whisper.

“Maybe for me. Every normal thing hits different when it comes to you.” he says, closing the space between you two again.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

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loveandmurders · 1 year

Note

I read the “Why am I not dead already?” Which had Bo having a fight with his S/O and asks Vincent why wasn’t she dead (I prefer to keep it g/n please)…. Could you do a Vincent one? Similar thing too on how the reader was telling Vincent “Why am I still alive? Why haven’t you turned me into a wax statue like the rest of the group I came here with?” Keep up your great work 🖤🤘🏻❤️‍🔥

Hello there! I’m so happy you sent me this request and I hope you’ll enjoy this <3

You can find Bo’s version here.

Gender neutral reader with no physical description.

WHY AM I NOT DEAD ALREADY (Vincent’s version)

Warnings: mention of murders, Bo being an ass, two cute insecure babies, angst/comfort

It had been a few months you were now living with the Sinclairs. You even had your own bedroom in their house.

You came to Ambrose with a touristic bus, and you never left. Like the rest of the group; except you were alive when none of them were.

You were the little artist of the group, drawing and looking around with bright curious eyes. You caught Vincent’s attention right away and you got spared.

But you didn’t know for how long.

You were sitting in the House of Wax, in front of three people of your group, now turned into wax sculptures.

You were staring at them, as if they could answer your silent questions.

Bo hadn’t been very nice with you this morning; and he had reminded you to be good or you would end badly.

Vincent hadn’t been there to stand up for you. And truth to be told, it wouldn’t have changed anything.

You had asked yourself quite often why you were still there, and Bo’s words only reminded you even more that you clearly were an accident.

There was no way you should still be alive in the Sinclairs’ plan.

And it worried you. You didn’t want to get killed now you had started a relationship with Vincent. You truly liked him and enjoyed your time with him, and the little dates and cute cuddles with him.

You were afraid you were naïve and Vincent was just toying with you, ready to kill you when you wouldn’t think about it.

You sighed and were so caught up with your thoughts that you didn’t hear the masked twin walking closer to you.

He was surprised to find you in front of those sculptures, and by how silent and thoughtful you seemed to be. You looked a little bit sad as well, and it broke his heart.

He knew he wasn’t offering you the best of life, and he was really afraid you were “dating” him only because you thought he would kill you otherwise.

He hated how he couldn’t find the right words to let you know that he had fallen in love with you pretty much the instant he saw you the first time. And how his affection toward you only grew, because you were perfect to him.

He silently sat next to you, on the ground, and he softly reached for your hand that he brought on his lap.

You had tensed a little before relaxing again under his familiar touch. He brought your hand to his masked lips and you gently smiled at him, even though the questions swirling inside your head were hurting you.

You stayed like that, silent. But it wasn’t really comfortable like it usually was.

Vincent wasn’t an idiot and he knew that something was wrong because usually, your head would be on his shoulder and you would be tenderly kissing his neck and shoulder before cuddling closer and settling on his lap.

You were very affectionate with him and it never failed to flutter him, but at the same time he absolutely loved it. You could even make him forget about his art when you were snuggling against him and loving on him.

He was touch and love starved, and you were making him happy like never in his life.

And even if Bo was still a little bit suspicious you would run away, one day, he liked you because Vincent was so full of joy and energy and renewed passion for life now you were around. Lester also loved the warmth you were bringing to Ambrose and enjoyed chatting with you.

Vincent turned toward you and started to sign: What’s wrong, my love?

You shook your head; you didn’t want to talk about it because you weren’t sure how Vincent would react.

Even if you liked him, your instincts never failed to remind you that you were now living with killers who could so easily hurt you. Vincent could destroy you - you really believed he was the most dangerous out of the three boys -, and you didn’t want to upset him.

But Vincent wasn’t going to let the subject go that easily. Even if he understood boundaries, he needed to know. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing you.

Did I upset you? If so, I’m very sorry and I’d love to make it up to you, he tried again and you nibbled on your lips.

“You promise you won’t be mad at me?” you asked and his eye widened at this question. He really didn’t want you to be afraid of him.

He was quick to shake his head and to lift his mask so he could kiss the back of your hand, as to show you he could only love you.

You took a deep breath.

“Why am I not dead, Vinny? Why didn’t you turn me into a wax sculpture like the rest of the group I came with? Why did you keep me around?” You babbled without looking at him. His mask was preventing you from knowing what he was thinking anyways.

Vincent’s heart dropped at those questions.

He had really hoped you would know by now that if he kept you around was that because he couldn’t imagine going back to an existence without you by his side.

He was silently panicking, trying to find the appropriate answer, the one that would appease you and prove you that you have nothing to worry about him, or Bo or Lester.

But his silence was actually frightening you and you finally looked up at him.

“Oh so you’re going to kill me at one point” you said and you smiled very weakly at him. You really should have known better.

So far, you had always tried to convince yourself that if you were still alive it was because you were special or something like that; but the boys were probably getting lonely and Vincent just needed a pet for a little while before getting rid of it.

But you should have known better: you had never been special to anyone before; so why would it be different now?

You looked down at your lap but Vincent grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. He shook his head.

You’re my partner, I would never hurt you, even less kill you, he finally signed because he thought the easiest was to be straight forward.

You nibbled on your lips once again and he gently moved a finger over them so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

“I don’t understand… I mean even Bo said this morning I needed to obey or I would get killed. And there are so many tourists, and hot and smart people coming by to Ambrose, so why would you keep me?” you continued to voice out your fears.

Bo is an asshole, but he likes you more than you think Vincent replied but he made a mental note to kick Bo’s ass for having said such things to you. Vincent needed you to feel safe around them, more than anything.

He would go insane if you ever tried to leave him.

And you are hot, and smart, and crafty and affectionate and a ray of sunshine in there. It… It is impossible to not fall in love with you. Vincent finally admitted. It was the first time he told you he loved you, but he knew you needed to hear it even if you weren’t ready to say it back.

You watched him with wide eyes. You weren’t certain he was saying the truth or if he was manipulating you. It was hard to know with Vincent but the way he gently tried to bring you closer to him, the way he softly stroked your hand, the way he was so worryingly looking at your reactions… It was saying a lot.

You were too shocked to answer at first.

Say something, please? He pleaded with you and you went back to reality.

“So I’m here because you love me?” you said, even though you couldn’t believe someone as amazing as Vincent could be in love with you.

When I first saw you, I thought you were an angel. And your laugh was the most beautiful sound I ever heard. It was the first time I didn’t think my art could do justice to someone. You were so lively, so curious about everything around here. Even Bo was amused by all the questions you were asking. Turning you into a wax sculpture would have been a waste. Even though I wanted to keep you here, as my muse. I’m so grateful you have started to feel affection towards me.

“Your muse?” you repeated, completely taken aback by everything Vincent was telling you.

He nodded, I’m awfully late in my House of Wax projects because I spent hours drawing and sculpting you, but it’s never good enough for me to show you. You are beyond perfection and my art can’t reach it.

You were absolutely speechless so you simply wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him. He brought you closer, making you straddle his lap so he could have you all against his chest. His hands were tenderly stroking your back and sides.

“So no one will hurt me here?” you asked, just to be sure

I promise you you’re safe. I’ll have a discussion with Bo but he would never dare touch you, Lester either. And we all keep an eye on you when tourists are around.

You didn’t ask if they were watching over you to protect you or preventing you from escaping them.

And you…? He started but stopped mid sentence, not sure how to ask you to appease his own insecurities.

“And me?” you wondered

Do you really like me or do you just pretend so I don’t kill you? And before you could answer he quickly added: I mean it wouldn’t change anything about what I feel for you. Even if you didn’t want me anymore, you would still be safe. It would just be very heartbreaking for me to have to keep my hands from you after you let me worship you for months.

Worship was definitely the word and you would lie if you said you didn’t adore it.

“I was scared at first, you know. You killed all those people with your brothers and I didn’t know what you were going to do with me. So yeah, I was docile because I wanted to live. But then you’ve always been good to me, and no one ever treated me so well actually. And you’re a genius, I love to talk with you and watch you create. You’re really amazing and I really like you, even though a little voice in my head never stops telling me that one day you’ll grow tired of me, because everyone always do and you are a killer” you tried to explain

Vincent was very flustered that you called him “a genius” and “amazing”, and he almost felt shy. He couldn’t believe you liked him either, but it warmed his heart. He couldn’t get enough of you, and he was so relieved he could continue to treat you like his personal little divinity.

I’m afraid you will change your mind when you’ll see my face though he admitted but you shook your head

“I strongly disagree… And as long as you have me, I’ll have you too” you reassured him as you leaned your forehead against his.

He held you even more tightly and let out a little sound of happiness, like a soft purr and you truly smiled.

You stayed like that for a little while, enjoying each other’s warmth and affection.

You both felt quite safe, reassured and appeased after this conversation. You were glad you had it, even though you were aware you might need to have it again from time to time, just to be certain that he was still in love with you, and that you weren’t afraid of him.

“Vinny?”

“Hmmm?”

“I wanna see the drawings you made of me. And before you say no, because they aren’t good enough. As your muse, I feel like I have the right to see them”

Vincent looked up at you, a little bit surprised by this new side of your personality.

You were going to be such a playful tease now Vincent had reassured you… Not that he minded one bit, quite the contrary actually.

Taglist:

@feathery-ass

@g0thl3zz

@erasable-mustache

@cavern-creature

@peachycupotea

#House of Wax #house of wax x reader #house of wax x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair headcanon #house of wax headcanon #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #slasher x y/n

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zozo-01 · 6 months

Text

"is this the end of all the endings? (my broken bones are mending.)"

Happy Birthday to me!! It was my birthday earlier this month so I had to write myself a lil something something!! And you already knew I had to feature my favourite wolf and their vampire!!

[story takes place after before ‘cuddles and confessions’ but after ‘confronted by your alpha’, and sam and darlin’ aren’t together]

CW: Mentions of Abuse, Slowburn, Sam is an idiot, Darlin’ is an idiot, David is bad at planning surprises, Darlin’ has a fall birthday, Finessing the timeline a little, Author is outing herself by inserting her embarrassing and sad stories in this fic, Darlin’ is me, I am Darlin’, but they use they/them pronouns, There is one mention of Darlin’ being BIPOC but it’s a throwaway line for me and me alone

click here for the ao3 link!!!

Sam woke up that morning with his phone in his hands, a habit he only recently developed.

Under normal circumstances, he would have left his phone on his bedside table, letting it charge for the next day. But these aren’t normal circumstances and they weren’t a normal person. To him, at the very least.

He’s long accepted that against his will, the wolf he met on Solaire land means more to him than what he’s willing to admit. It’s gotten to the point where he’s caught himself twitching with a smile in front of the clan when they sent one of their goofy daily updates. Thankfully, it was brief enough that no one noticed. Except for the clan’s resident lover boy.

“Oooooh, Sam’s got a partner! Is it the Shaw wolf? I bet it’s them- they’re soooo your type and I can’t blame you, they’re very pretty, hehe.”

“Vincent, shut up ‘fore I knock you on your ass.”

“Jealous much, am I right Lovely.~”

“Stop teasing Sam- VINCENT LOOK OUT!”

Laying in bed, Sam thinks about what it is about this reckless wolf that has him acting like a love-struck teenager. Their striking appearance was what drew him in, and who could blame him. Darlin’ looked like the bad, city kid ripped from every romance novel. He adored their appearance but it was their heart, their righteous anger and that goddamn beautiful smile that kept him staying up at night talking to them, in the hopes that he’s making them happy on the other end.

(It would some time before Darlin’ confesses this fact, but there is a video on Marie's phone where they’re screaming in a pillow because that’s how enamoured they are with him.)

Speaking of messages, he opened his phone to see if there were any unread texts from them. His heart raced when he saw that there was one unread notification, thinking it was from Darlin’. His heart sank when it wasn’t their contact name highlighted, but it picked up again when it was a message from David Shaw. Sam opened it, nerves making him sick as to what their Alpha has said.

Mr. Shaw: Buy a chocolate cake for the troublemaker.

Mr. Shaw: It’s their birthday and they’re ignoring our messages.

Overcoming the initial shock caused by David messaging him, his mind went blank.

It’s their birthday. And he didn’t buy any presents for them. What terrible future partner he was.

Sam was still confused as to why David was messaging him of all people. Darlin’ had been integrating back into the pack, at a glacial pace for sure, but it was more progress than they expected. Given what sparse stories they tell him about the infamous Shaw Pack, Asher and Milo would have been the better option for throwing the party they deserve. David ended any further pondering Sam might have done with his next message.

Mr. Shaw: They know that we know it’s their birthday, so in a failed attempt to make today not a big deal, they will be ignoring any of our wishes.

Mr. Shaw: I’m willing to bet that they haven’t told you that their birthday was coming up, so the pack is relying on you to give them their first normal birthday, since… him. It doesn’t have to be anything flashy, they’d kill me if it was.

If that’s the case, then Sam will make this the best ‘not-a-big-deal-birthday’ birthday party to ever party.

Sam Collins: of course sir

Sam Collins: leave ‘em to me

Mr. Shaw: Thank you, Sam. For being there and caring for them in a way that the pack hasn’t.

Mr. Shaw: Also, you don’t have to keep calling me sir.

He chuckled at the last message, amused by the Alpha’s blunt care for his fellow wolf. He was glad that despite all the emotional baggage between the two introverted wolves, that he was always there for them, and they will always be there for him.

Ignore the fact that their birthday is during the fall. (“Autumn, Sam. It’s autumn.”) That’s just a mere coincidence that has nothing to do with anything. So what if his favourite person was born during his favourite season? So what if their rare smile is as warm as the fall sun, warm and bright and comforting in the most magical way possible. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

(It meant everything to Sam. For a man, who didn’t believe in soulmates and happily ever afters, it’s pretty damn hard to deny the idea that they were made for him. Every facet of their personality perfectly complimented his own. Their stubbornness with his care. Their shit eating grins with his amused yet exasperated grunts. The city kid who learned to fight in the trenches and the cowboy who could shoot before he could walk. A shifter who’s very nature is change and a vampire who is at an eternal standstill. The unstoppable force and the immovable object.)

(Stardust intertwines their bodies, magic binds their souls, their fates and destinies are tied together whether or not either of them accepts it. Sam waits patiently in the stark white room, waiting for the sun to shine on him like he was the moon. Gentle care is what awaits them both in the future, and between you and me, he much prefers their soft light over the harsh rays of heat from his childhood.)

Where was he again? Oh right, the not-a-big-deal-birthday’ birthday party. His mind seems to wander these days when it comes to them.

He switches the contacts in his phone, taking a minute to admire their contact picture. How someone could look so done with life, yet adorable, he will never understand. Another one of life’s greatest mysteries and he’s happy to solve it with them.

Sam Collins: can i come over today?

Before his heart could pound in anticipation for a response, Darlin’ had already figured out his plan.

pretty wolf 🐺: no

Sam Collins: can i at least explain?

pretty wolf 🐺: n o o o o

pretty wolf 🐺: i refuse to let david’s plans work

pretty wolf 🐺: you will absolutely not come over

Sam Collins: how on earth did you guess all o’ that? and why would ya assume david’s in on it?

pretty wolf 🐺: because that man is terrible at planning surprises ‘cuz he’s too predictable

pretty wolf 🐺: i’m surprised his mate let him get away with this

pretty wolf 🐺: so no

Sam Collins: but it’s your birthday?

pretty wolf 🐺: and??? so??? you’re absolutely welcome to come over if the leafs win the cup, but that aint happenin till i die

Sam Collins: i’ll bring cake and food

pretty wolf 🐺: …im payin you back

pretty wolf 🐺: dont fight me on that

Sam Collins: wouldn’t dream of it

Sam Collins: see you in a few

pretty wolf 🐺liked your message

–

cowboy has read your message

Ok, they think every nook and cranny of their small apartment is spotless. Considering the lack of furniture in their apartment, it wasn’t a hard task to complete.

They made a note on their phone to remind themselves to kill David at the next pack meeting. How many times did they have to tell him and the rest of those assholes that no, they didn’t need a birthday party. Just send a text and they were content. Darlin’ never liked being the centre of attention unless they did something notable enough to earn it. Celebrating them because their parents happened to bang nine months prior was definitely not on the ‘something notable’ list.

(They won’t mention that it was their fear of the future, the unknown, that prevented them from celebrating the mundane. Memories of shattered glass and tears and bullets were enough to remind them that the good times never last.)

(But maybe Sam will prove otherwise. Emphasis on the maybe.)

They go through their wallet, pulling out a couple hundred dollar bills, ready to shove them down Sam’s pockets so he’ll take it home. It would be easier to venmo or e-transfer it, but despite his young appearance, Sam firmly believes in not leaving a paper or cash trail behind. They’d joked that it was ok if he had a criminal past, they were used to hanging out with the unsavoury crowd. But when he went silent and drifted back in time, they quietly accepted his outlook, even if it made it damn near impossible to pay him back for his generosity.

They sat on the couch, answering calls and texts from their pack and family. Giving half-hearted responses and begging Asher to stop fucking singing was what they did. Their mom asked if they would come home soon. (ہمیں آخری بار ایک دوسرے کو دیکھے کافی عرصہ ہو گیا ہے۔) But between Quinn and the pack and their lawyer work, it was another birthday away from their parents. (مجھے بہت افسوس ہے ماں، شاید اگلے سال؟) It gets easier to treat their birthday as non-important to their parents every year that goes by, but it’s getting harder to ignore the pain in their mom’s voice.

Before their eyes teared up at their parent’s disappointment, there was a knock on the door. They jumped, doing a quick once over of their place. Darlin’ took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm their pounding heart, and opened the door with their signature deadpan.

There he was. Leaning against the door frame with a cake and takeout in his hands, with that stupid smile on his face. It had to be illegal to be this attractive and sweet and caring, wrapped up into the finest body they have ever seen. They should sue him for stealing their heart because they know if he breaks it, they may never recover.

Fuck, it’s always terrifying to bare their emotions freely, but Darlin’ was used to it.

So why is he different, and how would he hurt them in the end?

“I know David probably threatened you to do this, but you really didn’t have to.” They waited to see if Sam would walk in on his own, but between being a vampire and being a southern gentleman, he needed a written invitation on gold paper to invite himself inside. Darlin’ moved out of the way to let the vampire inside.

He shook his head and smiled, walking inside and taking his shoes off. “David didn’t force me to do nothin’, darlin’. In fact,” he placed the bag of takeout and cake on the table, “he seems more worried about his own ass then my own.” He chuckled and opened his arms, waiting for Darlin’ to hug him. (Always waiting. Always patient with them.)

They held himself back from jumping into his arms, wrapping their arms around his waist. Taking a deep breath (though not too deep to seem weird), Darlin’ responded. “Good. He knows what’s gonna happen at the next meetin’.” Their shoulders relaxed when they felt his arms around him, and for a vampire, his body was warmer than most. At least warmer than Quinn.

He laughed, squeezing them closer to his chest. (Bury them in his rib cage to keep them safe.) “I’m sure you’ll beat his ass.” He rested his chin on top of them, rubbing their back in the process. If they had less willpower than they do, they would have fallen asleep right then and there. “Happy Birthday, Darlin’.”

Pulling away, Darlin’ looked at Sam’s warm and beautiful eyes. And for the first time that day, they smiled and said, “Thank you, Sam,” with genuine sincerity. It wasn’t forced or given because they were obligated too. Darlin’ didn’t know why it was different with him. They like to think it’s because they didn’t expect all this from a man they had met only a few months ago, or it’s because Sam was the type of man who didn’t let many into his heart, so it was an honour to receive this care from him so often.

(It’s definitely not because Darlin’ is in love with him. It can’t be. Subtly looking to the side of the pots they had out, Darlin’ saw the face of a person who despite their best effort, could never make the right decision. They were messy and cruel and violent when needed, and Sam deserved softness. They might not know what he’s gone through in life, or why he’s the isolated curmudgeon of the clan, but it didn’t matter. He deserved the most sweetest and nicest and easiest and amazing partner to exist. Someone who didn’t make the worst case scenarios the norm or made him prepare for lecture beforehand.)

(People like Darlin’ don’t get soft endings, their jagged and sharp edges mangle the delicate future they could have if they weren’t so fucked up. They would rip the destinies from others, picking and choosing the sequence of events that are worthy to be Sam’s truth, but they won’t stick around to ruin it any further. Fate damns those who go against her wishes, and Darlin’ wasn’t going to let Sam be collateral damage.)

They cleared their throat to end the impromptu staring contest and turn to get plates from their cupboards. “How has your day been, cowboy?” They asked while placing the plates and cutlery on the table.

He took a seat at the barstool chair. “It’s been good,” he started. “William’s been getting ready for the Monarchal Summit, meanin’ we’re all workin’ overtime to get ready.” He stretched his back and Darlin’ bit their lip to stop themselves from making a comment from a popping noise. They slid him a plate of food, causing him to raise his eyebrow. “Ain’t you gonna eat too?”

They nodded their head. “I will, but I gotta do some things first real quickly.” They walked over to the sink, wanting to wash the dishes before they ate. But before they could turn the water on, Sam held their wrist to stop them.

“Darlin’, it’s your birthday. Let me do ‘em for ya.” He slowly reached for their waist to move them out of the way. Not like they were going to let that stop them.

“Sammy, you’re my guest. I can’t let ya do my housework.” They huffed, staring him dead in the eye to convince him otherwise.

He leaned over the wolf, pinning them to the counter. Now this is playing dirty. How on Earth were they supposed to focus when he’s staring them down like that? Their mind was wandering to some unholy territory, but they needed to win this argument.

“In my family, the birthday person don’t do shit ‘round the house.”

“Well in my family, the guests are served first. You got a problem with that, pretty boy?”

After a few moments of staring into each other’s eyes, Sam shook his head and picked Darlin’ up and carried them to a stool. Placing them down, he commanded, “Now you’re gonna sit pretty o’er here while I do the dishes, understood?”

Well shit. With a voice like that, how can they not listen to him? With a dazed look and complaints dying on their tongue, Darlin’ nodded. “I ain’t gon’ eat till you done, asshole.”

He smirked and promptly started on the dishes. “Of course, didn’t expect nothin’ less.” With that, his focus went back to the dishes, trying to finish up as fast as they can to end Darlin’s hunger strike.

They placed their arms on the table, resting their chin on it to stare at the man in front of them. For a selfish moment, they let their eyes indulge in the braids in his hair to his tan and unmarred skin to those built arms. They, of course, let their eyes linger on his arms, thinking about how big they are, how much work it went into achieving that size…

…How they would feel wrapped around their waist… How safe they would make them feel…

“Have I ever told you why I moved to Dahlia?”

He paused his dishwashing, looking up at the birthday wolf. Raising his eyebrows, he says, “How come?” It was rare that the wolf spoke about themselves, let alone their life before Dahlia.

They took a deep breath. “I was 15 and walkin’ back from a basketball game. It was December, so it was dark as shit at 4 PM. Not that it was a problem, I always walked alone, so it was whatever.” They straightened their back. “I thought it was a good idea to walk alone ‘cuz I didn’t wanna wait in the cold for 15 minutes just for a packed bus to come. Besides, the walk wasn’t that bad.”

Darlin’ chuckled at their stupidity. In hindsight, it was so easy to see their mistake. “Halfway through, a white van pulled up beside me and some assholes dragged me inside. Knocked me out too. Took me to some fightin’ ring bullshit since they could tell I was a shifter.”

Sam put the rest of his dishes away and walked around to stand besides Darlin’. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

They shook their head with a laugh. “Oh I wasn’t there for long. Someone saw me get taken and the license plate of the van so the cops could track ‘em. There were some that had been there from time, though. I got out ‘fore I got thrown in the ring. But, like, let’s be honest, I woulda kicked some ass.”

(Sam didn’t need to know that Darlin’ was convinced they were never going to get out. That the fact the police even looked for them was a miracle. Disappearing kids weren’t a new phenomenon to them. Everyone growing up had a friend or a family member that was taken but never found. Darlin’ was convinced they were going to be another statistic in a long line of tragic lives that ended quickly.)

(No one cares for the Black and Brown kids from Scarborough.)

He flicked their forehead gently. “Just ‘cus it didn’t last for long don’t mean it wasn’t fuckin’ terrifyin’. You were just a kid, Darlin’.”

Yeah. Yeah, they were just a kid.

They sniffled and wiped their eyes. “Right, um, yeah. Anywho, my parents didn’t think the city was safe anymore, so we packed our bags and moved out here.” The pleading that the event was a one time thing didn’t stop the rushed search of a new home. Within a month, Darlin’ had to say goodbye to all their friends and the neighbourhood they grew up in. Resentment and denial brewed in them, thinking this was all a dream until they stepped onto the plane.

The silence was deafening, filled with unsaid comforts and reassurances.

Why on Earth did they drop that story on him? Sam had only come by to celebrate their birthday, something he didn’t even have to do. He didn’t ask for this story and Darlin’ never voluntarily gave out information. They’ve always been taught that people will use their secrets against them, using their own trauma as knives to further hurt them. Not that it would stop people from spilling their story.

Ripping their heart on a silver platter to feed the wolves around them, but it was never enough. So they would break and build themselves to entertain and if they could get a good laugh, then their job would be complete. Because even if it was better to have no friends than bad friends, they so desperately wanted connections that they would smile with bloody teeth and bruised lips to convince themselves that people were laughing with them and not at them.

But Sam wouldn’t do that to them. (It wasn't a question or an unsure statement, it was the truth.)

Breaking the silence, Darlin’ looked Sam in the eye. “You wanna hear about me bein’ a dumbass?”

Sam scoffed, “Is your version of bein’ dumbass include you dying in a ditch?” They knew he said it in jest, but there was an undertone of desperation and fear in his voice. Darlin’ wishes they could soothe that pain in his voice.

“No, no, not that kind of dumbass.” They grab a couple of plates and the takeout Sam brought so they can have some food with a less depressing story. “Have I mentioned that I have family in the south?” They let out a giggle at the indignant noise that Sam let out. They kept this fact hidden from him because they knew once he found out, they’d be in for another lecture on how ‘every southern person ain’s cowboy.’

“So you know bein’ southern don’t equal bein’ a cowboy? But you still call me cowboy every damn chance you can get?” He sat next to them, facing towards the wolf. One arm resting on the table while the other rubs his face in frustration. “They didn’t teach ya any southern manners? Maybe they should have their southern card revoked.”

They rolled their eyes and handed him a plate. “Oh ha ha. You got jokes now, wait til I tell you this story.” They sat next to him and started eating the food. Shocked by the quality of the food, Darlin’ moaned out a thank you to Sam for buying all this food.

(Sam get your mind out of the gutter and get your friend under control.)

Swallowing the food, they continued with the story. “So, I don’t know why, but my cousin was obsessed with me also havin’ a southern accent. So he-” They started to chuckle at the memory. Chuckles turned to full blown laughter to Darlin’ clutching their stomach in pain. It had been a while since they let out a laugh this loud, but it felt good to not contain themselves for once.

“Sounds like a good story if you can’t tell it without laughin’.” Adoration in his eyes, he kept looking at Darlin’. They didn’t notice it, too busy keeping themselves from choking on the food they just ate.

Finally calming down and completely breathless, Darlin’ finished their story. “I don’t know why he did this, but he told me that all southern people end their sentences with ‘yeehaw’. So for the longest time, I always add a ‘yeehaw’ to the end of southern sentences.”

“So… Do you do that with me?”

Their silence was enough to confirm the vampire’s suspicions and send him on the table laughing.

Darlin’ gently assaulted Sam, making sure they weren’t doing serious damage, but enough to let him know that they don't appreciate his reaction. In all honesty they weren’t completely against this reaction. For as long as Darlin’ known Sam, he wouldn’t let a smile slip on his face, let alone laughter. A real shame too, Sam has such an ethereal smile and an infuriatingly melodic laugh. It wasn’t fair! Why was he so pretty when laughing at them?

(Darlin’ thinks back to their earlier thoughts. About how they’d keep people laughing at them to keep them around. Usually, it hurt to be the town’s object of ridicule and criticism, but maybe it’s a sin to keep from laughing. So perhaps they found themselves genuinely smiling along with him for the first time in ever.)

With a huff, Darlin’ says, “How dare you make fun of my naivety, Samuel? You mean and vile and vicious vampire.” They turn away from him, facing the delicious cake that he bought and hiding the stupid smile they have on their face. Come to think of it, how did Sam know to buy chocolate cake? It is one of those cakes that are universally loved, so it’s a good assumption. Yet to their knowledge, Sam only knew them as a ‘sweets disliker’. A delusional part of them wants to think that they’re so linked that he didn’t need to be told. (Or give David one less punch.)

Once Sam’s laughter finally dies down, Darlin’ turns back around and asks him, “Why the chocolate cake?” He tilted his head in confusion, yet silent to give them the room to continue. “I mean- not a lot of people know I like chocolate.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. “If I tell ya, promise you won’t hurt nobody?”

“No promises can be made.”

“David told me to buy you one.”

Oh, so that is one less punch for David. The fact that he remembered that weird fact about themself was a testament of how much time and change their Alpha has gone through. (And how they’ve stagnated, using their pain as a blanket to keep them from getting older.)

With a shake of their head and a childish huff, they grab the cake and a knife. “Of course he did. Fuckin’ asshole.” They moved to slice the cake, before Sam stopped them with a shit eating smile on his face. “Don’t I gotta sing you a song?”

“No you don't-”

“Happy Birthday to you.”~

Darlin’ groaned and covered their ears. The only thing that has going for him is that it's Sam singing and he's a better singer than Asher. They threw their arms up in defeat, having given up in stopping him from singing, and definitely not because they wanted to listen to his heavenly voice.

Once the performance was done, Darlin’ cut two slices of cakes, one for themselves and the vampire they love. It was simple and quiet, the perfect way to end their birthday. No performing for other people or coercion to have fun. Quinn wasn’t hovering over their shoulder taking random bites from their neck.

“You know, I’m sorry I couldn’t get a proper gift for you,” he apologized with sincerity, but that sincerity had him leaning back, avoiding a flick on his forehead from Darlin’. “What! It’s true!”

Quietly, they grabbed a pillow from their couch and started to hit him. He can’t get away for doing all of this and saying it isn’t enough. What a fool. (Oh, they want him so fucking desperately.) Darlin’ scoffed, “You have already done enough for me! What more do you wanna do?”

With a smile, he gently grabbed their wrist and moved it down, ending the tirade of pillow attacks. They were paralyzed in one spot, completely enamoured by Sam. It wasn’t a trance, they were infinitely familiar with the oppressive hold of one. This was something stronger and more personal, they felt it in their core. Technically, vampires are incapable of bridging since they are dead creatures of the night, but this was the closest either of them were going to get to. Sam raised a hand to place on their cheek, thumb rubbing the scar under their eye. Almost like he could heal every scar and mark on their body, no matter how deep and violating they may be.

He leaned over, whispering in their ear, “All I want to give you…”

“Is a goddamn sense of preservation.”

“Oh, you ASSHOLE!”

The sounds of Sam’s laughter, Darlin’s cursing, a vampire zipping around and a wolf shifting were coming from their shitty apartment. For the first time, Dahlia has felt like home.

(David, Asher, Milo and their mates left when they heard the sounds of joy coming from the wolf’s little home. It was best not to disturb the two while they’re having fun. The pack can always throw a belated party for them.)

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted darlin #redacted sam #lets play a game #which stories are real and which ones are fabricated for the fic hehehehe #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 8 days

Text

By Your Side

Okay so this was *supposed* to be a funny "Agi gets high and is silly with Astarion" fic but it turned out a little bit more serious with added Whatever the Fuck Sorcery Agi does lol. Mostly SFW.

“How are you doing, darling?” Astarion cooed at his well, we’re not lovers in the traditional sense perhaps…companion? Yes, my companion! He looked at Agnetha with such fondness that if he saw it in anyone else, he’d scoff. But not with her and I. No, I am that fond of her. I love her so dearly.

After taking up Halsin on his offer to give her herbs to help her relax (my poor sweet deals with so much) and smoking them, she was currently staring at Astarion, her brown eyes wide but definitely glazed over. “I am fine and dandy, love. Everything is so nice, you know?”

“It is, sweetness, especially with you.” One of his pale hands tapped her thighs, and he smiled. She’s so soft and warm. Perfect. I always need to touch her…

“Ughhhhhhhh, you silly bitch, you don’t have to use your lines on me anymore. You got me!”

Did she just…?!? He laughed, squeezing her softness. “I’m a what, darling?”

She snorted. “Silly bitch. Because you are. But it’s okay obviously!!!” Good gods, she’s giving those puppy dog eyes. “Because I love you.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she placed a finger on his lips. “I know you won’t say it to me. I know. It’s okay. I know you will someday.”

“I…” He struggled to find the words, any word, to express both the relief of her reassurance and sadness. She deserves someone better than me. Someone who will tell her every moment of every day for the rest of her life that she is loved. Someone who will make love to her whenever she wishes. For as long as she desires. Someone who isn’t me. “You know I do, right? You know how I feel?” Wait, she’s high as fuck and I’m asking her about knowing how much I love her? Idiot.

Agnetha nodded, smiling happily. “’Course I do. You say it all the time without actually saying it.” She thought for a moment and then grinned. “Like when you always watch my ass in fights.” I won’t lie I do in fact do that, but I believe she meant watching her back. “You make sure I’m okay. You never let anything near me.” Not if I can help it, no. I will slaughter anyone who tries to hurt you. “You’re always trying to touch me in some way. Don’t think I don’t notice!” She just tapped her finger on her nose. Now she’s giggling like a mad woman. Agnetha undid her ponytail and twirled a few of her long, red curls between her fingers. “You brush my hair every day. You love to bathe with me. You patch up my clothes and even…you know…” Let them out as much as I’m able. We never find anything that truly fits her, poor dear. If we manage to kill Cazador, I’ll make her whatever she wants. Everything she wants. “Help me with them…I know you love me. It’s in everything you do for me. Though,” her gaze returned to his. “There is something I need to know, okay? Just one thing.”

“A-alright. What is it?” Every muscle in his body tensed, afraid of what she was going to ask.

“Will you be there when I’m old? I could understand if that’s not what you want—oh!”

Always. He hugged so hard and so quickly that she toppled backwards, her head hitting a pillow. “I will be by your side for as long as you’ll have me. I promise.” Resting his head on her ample chest, he felt her rubbing his hair.

She let out an adorable little gasp. “Forever then, Star?”

Always. “If that’s what you want, darling, then yes. Forever it is.” It won’t be forever though. She’s a human---her life will end in the blink of an eye. She’ll be gone, and I’ll be alone…alone…all alone… Blinking back tears, he nearly began to sob when she began to rub his back.

“It’s okay. I’ll think of something. I will. Just you wait and see, love…” She whispered softly, rocking them both gently. “It’s okay. I’ll do some magic shit and make it alright.”

He shook his head, a small laugh escaping him. Oh my darling girl, not everything can be solved with you thinking very hard and making magic happen. Though if anyone can, it’s you. “Will you now?”

“Yep.”

Well, that’s definitive.

***

Ten years after their marriage, Astarion was astounded to learn that his wife did indeed “do some magic shit” to make eternity less painful for him. With spells she composed herself (using that beautiful tempest swirling inside her and…feelings, I suppose), she managed to accomplish three things: 1) that her body would remain the same with every reincarnation; 2) that she and Astarion were soul bound to each other; and 3) that they would find each other after her twenty-first nameday. “Because of the binding, we’ll be drawn to each other, seek the other out.” She took one of his hands in hers, her brown eyes full of joy. “You won’t wait too long, love.”

He leaned to her, a hand cupping her cheek. As his lips touched hers (perfect every time), he smiled. “And how will you know that I’m your husband?”

Agnetha chuckled softly. “Just trust me that I’ll know. It’s all up here,” she tapped her head. “And here.” She then tapped her chest over her heart. “After all, I haven’t failed you yet, my naughty little bat.”

Astarion kissed her again, this time with a little more passion, hands sneaking around her much thicker and more delicious waist. “The most popular tailor shop in Baldur’s Gate and seven children. I’d say you haven’t failed me yet, no.” He teased. His fangs scraped lightly over her lips, which never fails to turn her on. “Not that you could anyways, dear.”

She wrinkled her nose and giggled. “Flatterer.” The human placed an affectionate kiss on his nose and cupped his face. “Now we’ll be together forever. Just not in the way that either of us imagined.”

He knew what she meant. The ritual. I had it all planned, you see. I’d complete the ritual, become the Vampire Ascendant, and convince Agi to let me make her into a vampire spawn. There---problem solved. What a fool I was! I would not trade our lives together and the lives we created for anything. “But it is so delightfully us, isn’t it? Full of love and adoration and only slightly mad.”

“Only slightly.” She teased, pressing several kisses to his lips. Gods, I cannot get enough of her. Not now. Not ever. “My mad husband who wants a dozen little dhampirs…”

Two at play at this game, madam. He clicked his tongue as one of the hands on her waist squeezed. “My equally mad wife who wants a dozen little dhampirs and lets me spoil her rotten—”

“Daddy? Mummy?”

Someone didn’t lock the door, Agi.

With one last peck, Agnetha looked at the toddler in their doorway. Pale ginger curls framed the boy’s round face, and ruby eyes glanced between his parents. “What’s the matter, my little love?” She beckoned him over, and he scurried to his mother and soon settled in her arms. “Did you have a bad dream?”

He nodded. “Scary…”

“My poor little Sylven! You can stay with us tonight, darling.” Astarion cooed as he ruffled his son’s hair. The toddler snuggled against his mother, a sight that before his capture by the mindflayers would have disgusted him. But not anymore. Not when I have them. Emilia, Ariane, Sophie, Nessa, Helene, Thora, and Sylven.

And my darling girl.

Before long, the small boy fell asleep cuddled against his mother while his adoring father rubbed circles into his back. “Did I tell what happened earlier?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sweetness, that could be anything.”

She stuck her tongue out. “Fine. Anyways, I asked Sylven when he was playing with the blocks what he wanted to be when he grew up.”

“The suspense is killing me, dear.” Astarion deadpanned, kissing Sylven’s curls.

The look in her eyes turned dreamy. “Daddy. He said Daddy. He wants to be you, love. That was the sweetest damn thing.” She turned her head to face him. “And you thought he wouldn’t love you.” His wife teased, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.

The second we saw that he was a boy I panicked. With the girls it’s so easy for me. I make them the prettiest outfits in Baldur’s Gate, make matching ones for their favorite dolls…have so many tea parties where we gossip like spinster aunts. But a boy. The girls are learning archery so he can too, I suppose. What was I to do with him? I was terrified. And as always, my infinitely wiser wife was correct: “Just go with the flow and listen to him.” Going with the flow has turned out to be excellent advice because he is glued to me, especially when we’re in the shop. He wants to watch me work and pretend he’s sewing too. My little boy wants to be…me. Me. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded before giving her another kiss. “Happy to be proven wrong, darling.”

“I see! Well, I’ll note that for future reference.” She noted rather too smugly. Has she been learning this from me? Because I’m so flattered, dearest. For the next several minutes, they settled in a comfortable if exceedingly sleepy silence. Agnetha’s breathing became slower and deeper, and her eyes fluttered open and closed.

“Silly goose. Go to sleep.” Astarion chided his wife gently, now laying on his side. Rest. You need rest. Between the children, the shop, and ensuring I’m fed every day, you need to rest, darling. “Don’t stay awake for me. I’ll trance in a while.”

A small smile tugged on her pretty lips. “Forever…it isn’t what either of us thought but…we’ll be together…forever…” Eyes full of sleep, she held Sylven closer to her. “Love you, my shining star…”

“As I love you, my darling girl. Have the sweetest dreams for us…”

Always.

Forever.

#agnetha wildheart #astarion ancunin #agi x astarion #plus size tav #chubby tav #human tav #astarion x tav #dadstarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #sorcerer tav #domestic bliss #happy 4/20 agi gets high #the ancunin family #sylven ancunin #she just thinks really hard and visualizes magic and makes it happen

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blueberri-chee · 7 months

Text

Is this the end?

A/n: just a little thing if satoru was my brother.... oh i would kill for him to be my lil bro.. fun times bullying him.

Warnings- spoilers SPOILERS spoilers SPOILERS

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

I watched Satoru fight with Sukuna/Megumi and I remember the conversation I had with Megumi one day while I was training him.. He had asked me how it felt to be the elder sister of the strongest sorcerer… it was nerve wracking to say nonetheless. I had chuckled and simply shook my head saying, “he was a pain in the ass.” To which Megumi cracked a smile. Quite the reaction coming from him. I smiled as he said, “I agree.” But there was so much more to that.. Satoru is a man with tremendous potential and power which also brought tremendous sadness and grief… he lost his best friend not once but twice… he saw his co-workers die.. His students perished to the curses. He has to fight the boy he raised because he was possessed by the king of curses… Satoru had gone through a lot and I saw him go through it and I couldn't do anything about it… Now that I watch them fight I can't help but feel that I've failed to protect my brother… The one for whom I gave my whole life away… I spent hours in the god forsaken training room of the Gojo estate so that I could protect him from everything but I failed. I failed so miserably and I can't even do anything as I watch them helplessly. Kento had asked me one day, “Why don't you trust him, then? You've worked your whole life to raise him, right? To make him a good person who'd know right from wrong..... I think it's fine to trust him a little more. You can't protect him forever, can you?”

I sighed and looked at him with what I could only describe as heaviness in my heart, “that is the thing... I was the first person to hold him after he was born... he was a big baby with bright bright blue eyes. and I was like I’m going to protect him forever... I was holding the baby who was going to be the strongest sorcerer of this era... I was holding the baby because of whom the balance of the universe was altered and curses stronger than what you can even imagine were born to match his strength and I had taken upon the responsibility to protect him.. Forever”

I looked at him and he had this weird look in his eyes. Like I had said something so heart touching and idiotic at the same time. “I see.” he said after a long pause, "Then..." He hesitated, but he wanted to ask me this. "Why are you so scared?" He said gently. "I thought that you had made him strong enough so he wouldn't need protection anymore." He added. I knew what he meant.. I had heard it enough times from Suguru and I gave Kento the same reply I used to give Suguru, “"I did make him strong but I can't help it. Actually.. He made himself strong. I was just there for him. The enemies he is up against. They are strong… He might be the strongest but for me he is just my little brother… I might hate his guts but still.. It is just. I can't help but worry about him..."

Satoru was all I have left of the family and I raised him myself like he was my own son.. Now watching him fight the boy he had raised, hurt me more than anything. I wanted to protect him from experiencing such pain but here I am witnessing it..

I truly failed but there is no point crying over spilt blood so I pray to all the gods above that Satoru wins without harming megumi… which is impossible. If Kento would have heard me mumbling these prayers he would have called me a fool and would have told me to trust Satoru.. But he is not here to tell me that so I continue to pray. I want Satoru to win.. I wanted him to win so badly but I had this intuition. A very bad intuition which is never wrong. I looked at Yuuji who was standing beside me and then at my brother and his student? His enemy? His son? I don’t know…. But I know that this isn’t going to end well. I clasp my hands together as I rest my chin on it.

He uses purple hollow.. I hold my breath as I wait for the bright light and the debris to settle down.

……..

Did he just win?

…….

Did Gojo Satoru just defeat the king of curses?

…….

Is it too early to cheer for his victory?

……

Is….. it?

…..

….

…

Maybe it is…. Maybe my intuition was right… maybe….just maybe….. Am I wrong for the first time in my whole life?

….

…

I was right. I clench my fist as I watch him.. Falling… My chest feels heavy as I watch the strongest fall. The strongest.. Who was Yuuji's teacher. Shoko’s best friend. My brother… I fall on my knees as everything happens in slow motion… this is bad. This wasn’t supposed to happen…. He will rise… The strongest can’t give up so easily. Gojo Satoru never loses.

Gojo Satoru won’t lose.

#jjk #jjk spoilers #gojo satoru #x reader but platonically #it is not gojover you guys #i love him so much #i want him to be my brother #nanami kento #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #angst #jjk manga spoilers #sukuna

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mamisfavmosher · 7 months

Note

Can I have a Damian Priest x Fem reader with the prompt "I wanted to make you proud but I just got in your way" i need some emotional fluff because i am sad right now

of course, love! i'm wishing you all the happiness and love in the world :)

always proud // damian priest x fem!reader

prompt: "i wanted to make you proud, but i just got in your way"

Readers POV

The plan had been carefully crafted so that however I chose to interfere with Damian's match, he would win. But, then it went terribly wrong. I ran out to the ring in hopes of performing a simple distraction for Cody Rhodes, his opponent, but throughout a whirl of bodies, Damian ended up getting speared and pedigreed. The American Nightmare took the win as I laid dazed in the corner.

In the midst of the brawl, Kevin Owens and Sami Zayn had come out to help Cody in defense of me coming to help Damian. As waves of pain pounded through my head, I concluded that one of them must have knocked me into a turnbuckle in order for Cody to take advantage of the three on one scenario.

I faintly listened to Cody's theme playing throughout the arena, hot tears beginning to gather in my eyes as I realized what happened. I screwed up Damian's match. Weak and slow, I stood up from the mat and looked toward Priest to see how he was doing. He was still lying on the mat, but he was quickly starting to become more alert. I held back my tears and attempted to put on a brave face as I approached the intimidating man.

"Damian?" I carefully kneeled next to him, cautiously placing a gentle hand on his cheek. Unsure of where his emotions were at, I didn't want to be overbearing. "Are you okay?"

"Let's just get outta here." He grumbled while pulling himself to his feet. Staring at the ground, I followed him backstage, prepared for an angry lecture at any time. We walked into the empty Judgment Day dressing room and I watched the tall man move throughout the room with a tense demeanor. I could feel the tears welling up again.

"Damian, I'm really sorry." I sniffled. I looked down at my feet, missing the way he whipped his head around to stare at me.

His footsteps approached me before his warm hand gently lifted my face to meet his. "Sweetheart..." His thumbs swiped at my tears and tucked strands of hair behind my ears. "It's okay."

"No, it's not! We made a fool proof plan so you would win the match and I still messed it up. You lost because of me!" I cried as the tears poured down my cheeks. Damian sighed as he took in my emotional state, pulling me into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to make you proud, but I just got in the way."

"Baby, you didn't get in the way. The plan was for you to come out and help me. You did your part perfectly. It was those two idiots who messed everything up. " He kissed the top of my head, petting my hair to calm me down. "You made me very proud. You always do, mi amor." His hand tilted my chin up so he could kiss my lips, holding me tight against his chest. "But, Kevin Owens and Sami Zayn? They're dead. I saw them knock your pretty head against the turnbuckle." His eyes searched for any obvious signs of injury on my head, wiping any remaining tears in the process.

"I'm fine, Damian. I think I got a little dazed, but other than that, I'm okay." I softly smiled at him, easing his rising anger at the other two men.

"Fine. But, I'm gonna beat their asses next time they step in the ring with me." He grumbled.

"I expect nothing less, Papi." I giggled, a smirk rising on his lips at the nickname.

Damian jokingly raised his eyebrows and gave me a knowing look. "Oh? Well, I hope I live up to your expectations, princesa."

"Of course you do! I hope I live up to yours as well." I added softly, relaxing as his knuckles gently ran across my cheek.

"Always, pretty girl. I'm so proud of you." He said, kissing me deeply and passionately.

#wwe #the judgement day #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian priest angst #damian priest fluff #fanfiction #request #wwe x reader #wwe fluff

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rinskazuu · 1 year

Text

always imagining enemies to lovers with childe.

imagine both of you being harbingers, and you rank higher than him, cus he fucking sucks /j. anywho, he literally loves picking on you, because you get irritated easily. in return, you always beat his ass, but he really likes it, cus idk, he’s a pain whore.

back on topic.. when i say enemies to lovers, i truly mean enemies. you guys are literally sabotaging each other left and right, staying up all night planning out how to get each other killed. the moments you’re not thinking about how to kill one another, are very scarce and are rare moments.

now, the fatui decides to hold a ball, for whatever reason. that’s up to your imagination, but i’d say for malicious purposes; like seeking a target out. like i said, it’s up to your imagination. you’re dressed in your sexiest dress/suit/whatever formal attire you wanna wear.

you guys may have a little too much to drink. and oh no!!!! you end up sleeping with each other. i guess, all that planning, trying to sabotage and murder each other made you really fucking obsessed.

btw, it was brutal sex, like hate banging, so much degrading, choking, and you get the point.

the next morning, you’re absolutely regretting everything. tartar, on the other hand, is like “i knew you were into me, you just needed a little push,” and some other bullshit. now, you’re fucking pissed. but you can’t deny that there’s a new profound tension between you two.

it’s less sabotaging, and more ogling. during meetings, he’s like secretly, not so secretly, brushing his hand against your back or thigh. idk if he could brush your thigh tho, cus they seem to have meetings standing up. and if you ask me, that’s kinda weird, but that’s just me. YOU GET THE POINT.

every time you spar, he can’t help but give you a small smile, and you have to force yourself to look away. you do not want to fall in love with this man, he’s terrible, unhinged, blood thirsty. he’s not gonna ever focus on you, when all he wants is world dominance. and he can’t get that, cus you beat his ass up every time.

point is, you cannot risk loving a man who’ll never prioritize you. that’s what you believe anyway.

he falls first, and he realizes it. surprising both of you, he makes a choice to send you flowers. the next time you see him, you scold him, and tell him to not pull shit like that. he’s confused, because to him, you did seem interested. you remind him that “just because we slept once, doesn’t mean i’m into you like that.”

but, our boy childe, doesn’t give up. (that was corny, i’ll never say it again. i sincerely apologize). he chases after you, because he’s really got nothing better to do with his life. you’re literally his new obsession.

so one day, he’s had enough, and he decides to ask you. “you can’t tell me you’re not the least bit interested in me, when you have to force yourself to look away, or when your cheeks warm up after my touch. i won’t believe you, so riddle me this, why are you lying to me?”

for once, in all the years you’ve known him, you can catch the small glimmer that appears in his usually dead, blue eyes. and you can tell, he is genuinely sad.

“i can’t be in a relationship with someone, where i’ll always be second choice.” this oddly confuses him, because, he himself, doesn’t know who’s first.

“huh?” he has this really adorable puppy face displayed, and is extremely confused.

“you idiot. i admire your spirit for always wanting to fight, but i’m unwilling to love you, if you won’t come home to me one day,” your eyes darted to the ground, and hands fiddling with one another.

“so that’s what this was about. are you doubting my strength?”

“yes, i am. you lost to the traveler, who held only a dull blade. isn’t that quite embarrassing?” of course, you were only half joking. he looks at you sheepishly before pulling you into a hug.

“i’ll always come back to you, i promise.”

I ALWAYS MAKE THESE LONGER THAN INTENDED.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe #childe x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader

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multi-kpop-fanfics · 1 year

Text

Happy go-lucky boy! (sometimes not so happy)

pairing: best friend!Seokmin x gn!reader (ft. some of the sebongs)

genre: minor fluff, angst, comedy, best friends to lovers!AU, college!AU, slice of life

warnings: mentions of food, mutual pining, seungkwan our lord and saviour, hoshi is a mf idiot, kissing, jealousy, cursing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks (they aren’t actually happening), seokmin is sad :(

word count: ~2.2k

summary: Seokmin is a bright person, full of love, especially for you - but it proves to be a little too overwhelming for him to handle.

Author’s note: Hi Madi @heartkyeom! This is your @svthub secret santa calling <3 I know it’s cliche to write a fic for a Christmas gift, but I really hope this will cater to your tastes (and keep you on your toes for the next part hehe)~ Happy reading and happy holidays my love🤗

“Kwan”, Seokmin nudges his friend’s shoulder with a grin but the latter ignores him. “Seungkwaaaan”, the older male whines again, making Seungkwan roll his eyes in annoyance.

“BOO SEUNG-”, “Will you shut up?”, he snaps his head towards Seokmin, dramatically putting his phone down on the table. “But you were ignoring me!”, “You were about to tell me about Y/N’s latest instagram post, weren’t you?”, he deadpans and Seokmin is left frozen in his spot.

“H-How did you know?”, he asks while rubbing his nape and Seungkwan merely shows him the screen of his phone, the post in question clearly visible. “Oh”, “Yes, Seok, you’re not the only one who’s friends with Y/N and follow their profile”, “Ahahah, yes you’re right”, “But you are the only one who has a crush on them and is a complete coward about it-”, “I shouldn’t have bothered you at all”, Seokmin grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Listen, I know you’re very fond of them and literally adore them, but you won’t win anything by sitting here, liking and commenting on their posts or going out with them for coffee or food or whatever while you’re walking next to them with fucking heart eyes”.

Seokmin hates it when Seungkwan gets brutal with his words - but what he hates the most is that Seungkwan is right about everything.

But how is he supposed to make a move on you when you’re always so confident and a literal ball of sunshine?

His heart does somersaults whenever you post a selfie or a full bodied pic, in the cutest outfits, with bright colors and statement jewelry - if Y2K aesthetic was a person, it would be you.

But it’s not just the bright colors you’re usually sporting - it’s your smile and radiant eyes that make him melt on the spot, whether he’s looking at you through the screen of his phone or in real life, in flesh and body.

All of his worries are skyrocketing to the max when he spots you at the cafeteria cashier, paying for your milk boba and you turn around, happily waving to him. He feels like he just got showered in ice, frozen in his seat and about to enter a panic attack.

“Dude, calm down, you’ll make it worse if you don’t relax!”, Seungkwan whisper yells at him, “I can’t fucking calm down - oh God, they’re almost here, Kwan, I’ll fucking pass out-”

“Good morning besties!”, you greet the two men with a big smile, “How are you doing on this fine day?”, fine my ass, Seokmin thinks - but a bit louder than he was supposed to. “Seok? What’s wrong?”, you ask him with a worried tone and he looks at you, frozen and eyes wide open, not knowing what to say.

His fight-or-flight instincts kick in and he mutters a faint ‘sorry’, bolting out of his seat and away from the table, leaving you and Seungkwan utterly baffled.

“What just…?”, “Don’t mind him, Y/N, he’s just…hella stressed lately”, Seungkwan makes up a kinda believable excuse, hoping you won’t catch up on what is really going on. “I might text him later, I’m worried about him”, you sit down, a pout forming on your lips. “I know you are, I am too”, Seungkwan exhales, “But knowing Seok, he hates making his friends worry about him, even if it’s something serious”.

Even if his friend loves him like he's the most precious person in the universe?, you mutter to yourself, fiddling with the straw of your boba, completely missing the way Seungkwan's eyes widen in shock. You didn't even notice that you said it louder than you thought you did, sighing as you take a sip of your beverage, slouching back in your seat - your mind is still occupied with Seokmin’s bizarre behavior and you pray to whatever higher being exists in the universe that you’re not the reason he acted that way.

“Um, Y/N, I should get going, class starts soon and Soonyoung will probably start wailing if he’s left alone”, Seungkwan clears his throat, “Where are you headed to?”, “Me? Um, I think I’ll go back to the dorms, my classes are over for today”, you reply nonchalantly. “Okay then”, the blond man gets up, “I’ll catch you later then. Oh, and cheer up a bit, everything’s gonna be okay!”, he says before sprinting away to make it in time for his class.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, huh…”, you mutter and leave the cafeteria, clutching the milk tea in your hand as you make your way back to your dorms, the taste of the beverage not feeling as sweet as it was a few moments ago.

Seokmin wants to disappear from the face of Earth after what happened today.

He feels like the biggest idiotic asshole in the universe and the worst of all? He made you sad AND worried about him.

“Ughhhh you stupid, stupid fucking idiot dumbass!”, he curses in the pillow he grabbed and pushed on his face, practically screaming and kicking his feet (not in the cutesy way), all while his roommates are worriedly watching him behind the half open door of his bedroom.

“Do you think we should step in?”, Mingyu asks with an upset expression. “I would say no, but given the current situation and how he has been acting today, I guess we don’t really have any other choice”, Joshua sighs.

“Um, I can hear you two”, Seokmin speaks with a defeated tone and his roommates shyly enter the room, awkwardly clearing their throats. “Aw come on, just speak”, he throws the pillow on his side, trying his best to sit up on the bed. “I’ll be honest with you, Seok, this isn't like you at all”, Joshua sits right next to his friend, “Can you at least tell us what’s going on?”. “What’s the point of telling you what’s wrong with me if I can’t solve it on my own?!”, Seokmin protests. “Are you fucking stupid? This is exactly why we’re here!”, Mingyu kneels in front of him.

“Ew, Kim, kneeling? Really?”, “Shut up, Shua! Anyways, where was I? Oh, right”, the tall man picks up his train of thoughts, “What I’m trying to say is that we want you to tell us your troubles, because we’re your friends and we wanna help you”, “As much as I don’t want to admit it, Mingyu is right”, Joshua adds, his hand resting on Seokmin’s shoulder, making the man exhale in defeat.

“Okay fine, you won”, he shrugs, “I’m madly in love with Y/N but I don’t know how to confess to them because I’m a goddamn coward who has fucking heart eyes everytime I see them in person or one of their insta posts or whatever and I managed to make them upset today because I acted like a scaredy cat in front of them AND Seungkwan!”, he blurts out in one go, leaving his friends completely stunned.

“Well shit, dude”, Mingyu breaks the short-lived silence. “That’s all you have to say?!”, Seokmin asks with a baffled expression, “I literally spilled everything that has happened up until this morning!”, “Actually, I do have something to add”, Joshua chimes in, “Please do, I would love to hear your input”, “You’ve royally fucked up everything, Lee Seokmin”.

“Fuck you both”, he grumbles, falling back on the bed with a loud plop. “Hey, come on, buddy, it can’t be that terrible - nobody could ever hold a grudge against you, especially when you’re literally such a happy-go-lucky guy!”, Mingyu pats his back, “Besides, you could always text them back and explain yourself - you’re best friends with Y/N, so I doubt it’ll go that bad”.

It’s as if a light bulb has lit up above Seokmin’s head and he grabs his phone, opening the chat he has with you, to see the familiar bouncing dots appear on his screen.

Y/N is texting…?, Seokmin notices and lets out a loud yell when he reads your message.

y/n <333: hey seok, sorry if i’m being nosy, but i wanted to check up on you…you seemed very upset earlier :(

“Why the hell are you yelling?!”, Mingyu whines, covering his ears, “Y/N texted me!”, Seokmin yells back in panic and the three men are instantly glued to the screen. “Are you seriously going to leave them on read?”, Joshua glares at his friend. “No, of course not! I’m just trying to think of a good answer”, “Oh my God, he’s so whipped”, “I fucking know, right?”, “Can you two shut the fuck up? Thanks”, Seokmin makes both of his friends stop simultaneously as he tries to type out a decent answer.

seokshine☀: hi y/n, sorry for earlier today :/

seokshine☀: i..didn’t want to worry you, just…some personal shit going on

“Well, at least you’re being honest…kinda”, Joshua mutters, which earns him a slap on the head from Mingyu, signaling him to stay quiet and just watch.

y/n <333: oh i see….

y/n <333: do you perhaps wanna talk about it? you know you can talk to me about anything

“Yeah, I fucking wish I could”, Seokmin scoffs, typing out his answer, his fingers calmly clicking on the screen, unlike the rest of his demeanor.

seokshine☀: it’s…kinda sensitive, i don’t feel very comfortable saying more rn :(

seokshine☀: sorry for that

Mingyu frowns as he reads the sent message, soothingly rubbing his friend’s back up and down.

y/n <333: it’s okay! there’s no need to apologize, i won’t push you to do smth you don’t want to

“Fuck, stop being so nice to me”, Seokmin’s voice cracks, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “Seokmin…”, Joshua looks at his friend, leaning closer to him.

y/n <333: um…i’ll go out with soonyoung tonight for ramen, do you wanna join us? it could lift your mood…

Tch….of course, that fucker, Seokmin scoffs, biting his lips out of frustration.

It’s not like he hated Soonyoung, not at all - on the contrary, Soonyoung is one of his closest friends. But the thought of you and him eating together, laughing and perhaps flirting (he knows how flirty Soonyoung can get when he’s in his comfort zone) makes him upset….and jealous.

“Uh oh…”, Mingyu grimaces and Joshua mirrors his expression, fully aware of how well you get along with Soonyoung - it was a very fine line, and one wrong reaction could blow up on Seokmin’s face. Badly.

seokshine☀: nah, i think i’ll stay home today

seokshine☀: don’t wanna be a party pooper today :”)

God, would he be one hell of a party pooper if he actually went.

y/n <333: aw :(

y/n <333: if you wanna stay home, i’ll respect that

seokshine☀: ty for understanding me :’’)

y/n <333: don’t even mention it, that’s what friends are for <3

y/n <333: i will still miss you seok :(

Seokmin laughs dryly, tears now freely spilling from his eyes, staining his cheeks. He drops the phone on his bed, sobbing loudly, feeling lost and helpless. And it was all because he acted like a fool in front of you.

“Oh, buddy…”, Mingyu pouts and brings his friend in a warm hug, Seokmin’s head resting on his chest, as the brown haired man cries nonstop, “It’s okay, let it all out, we’re here now”.

Joshua silently stares at Mingyu, a puzzled expression on his face, as if he’s trying to ask what they should do to help their friend. But none of them have a good answer.

But maybe someone else does.

boo seungkwan: hey, dumbass

boo seungkwan: HEY

boo seungkwan: STOP LEAVING ME ON READ I KNOW YOU’RE ACTIVE

boo seungkwan: oh come on tiger bitch

tiger king: i’ll ignore the last word but now you have my attention

boo seungkwan: i hope so bcs things are serious this time

tiger king: how serious??

boo seungkwan: we must set up y/n with seok. asap

tiger king: okay i’m down!

tiger king: why should we do that again?

boo seungkwan: oh my god you’re a fucking idiot

boo seungkwan: they’re in love with each other, you himbo!!

tiger king: and how was I supposed to know that??

boo seungkwan: seriously now? you haven’t noticed?

tiger king: uhhhhhh

tiger king: no?

boo seungkwan: this is not going to end well…

tiger king: oh come on, kwan, i’m supposed to leave in ten! don’t wanna stand up y/n

boo seungkwan: wait - YOU’RE GOING OUT WITH Y/N??

tiger king: IT’S JUST RAMEN, STOP YELLING AT ME

tiger king: besides, it could be a good chance to get some extra intel yk?

boo seungkwan: wow, look at you putting your brain to good use for once

tiger king: i can put other parts of me to good use as well ;)

boo seungkwan: you’re gross

boo seungkwan: just…try to be discreet and not give away anything, okay?

tiger king: aye aye sir

Seungkwan closes his phone, letting out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, holding the device on his chest.

“I hope they won’t be mad at me”.

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