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faerievampling · 8 months

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An Unexpected Visitor

Summary: Ascended!Astarion and Tav have been together for thousands of years. One day, an unexpected visitor shows up, reminding them of their past and offering them a new adventure.

Word Count: 4k

Here's the link to AO3!

Pairing: (soft) Ascended!Astarion x Female Tav

Warning: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Oral Sex. Light bondage. Light dom/sub.

A/N: This is going to be a multi-chapter story I will be posting here and on AO3. Largely but not entirely based on my headcanons for Ascended!Astarion that you can read here: Part 1. Part 2. (Not necessary to read first!!)

I hope you enjoy!

Next Chapter

You wake up with a strong sense of unease. Astarion, your creator and husband, picks up on it immediately, of course. The two of you are so profoundly connected, your minds nestled together; he knows that you do not know the ‘why’ for these feelings.

Astarion kisses and cuddles you good morning, as he always does, but he holds you a bit longer this time, not wanting to get out of bed with his consort feeling this way. His hold on you is tight as he buries his nose in your hair.

Alas, Astarion has work to do, including ensuring the protection of his territories and assets, especially at a time like this.

The war, my darling. The war. Astarion reminds you again. You hadn’t been affected by it at all, and didn't really care. And Astarion really didn’t care that you didn’t care. He only wanted your happiness and wellbeing, and had worked hard to keep you away from it all.

But he feared that maybe you could sense it, or were beginning to. His weariness, his stress; those feelings he did his best to guard you from.

Astarion cradled you to his chest, one arm on your naked back and the other nestled in the root of your hair, giving you gentle massages as you listen to the thump of his ever-beating heart. After a while, Astarion repositions the two of you so that he may offer his neck to you. He knows this is your (second) favorite place to feed, because you can feel the beat of his heart and drink in his scent.

He also knows you’d rather like to feed from the inside of his thigh, but now was not the time for that. Well, maybe it was, but the two of you were already late for court.

As you sup of his blood, you moan with pleasure - there is nothing better to a bride than the blood of her creator, and Astarion was a very generous master.

“Your master adores you, my little darling,” Astarion whispers in your ear as you feed, his hand moving to caress the back of your head. His teasing words cause you to grind into his hips, and you can feel him beginning to get hard.

“Enough, my pet,” Astarion says as he pulls you away, detaching your fangs from his ivory skin. As he meets your gaze, the memories of your days of madness wash over him like the shock of ice cold water.

Long ago, Astarion insisted you feed on him and only him. There was danger in this, a bride feeding too much from her Master. This, Astarion knew, but his mind was shrouded with paranoia.

In another land, one of the brides of vampire master Geldon Moth was poisoned and killed. Once Astarion heard the news, he came to a quick decision.

Believing his blood to be the safest for you, you were to feed on him and only on him. After months of letting you gorge, Astarion saw the bridal madness for the first time.

Astarion is quick to push the memory away. Before he does, you catch a glimpse of the scene: you’re inconsolable, starving, horny as a bitch in heat, and as violent as ever. Astarion is crying, begging you to come back to yourself.

Astarion no longer remains your only food source. He is your primary one, indeed, but the essence of others is to be drunk from a goblet, not from lips to skin. That is reserved for you and your creator.

Thou art mine. A thought rings in your head.

You help Astarion dress, as you have for the past…so many years. Astarion dismissed his footman so long ago, preferring to do the work himself with the help of his consort. His aversion to touch, anyone’s but your own, was an ever-growing symptom of the choices the both of you made so long ago.

Astarion plants a tender kiss on your lips before he goes, and your own maid comes in to help you dress and take care of your hair. She wants to put it in an updo of some kind, so that you match with the other ladies of the court.

But you’ve been feeling rather rebellious, and Astarion sat on the throne, so you could do whatever you wanted. And so you did.

You keep it long, like a curtain, and now that Astarion had finally moved on from his insistence that you wear something low cut, you choose a dress that is modest, comfortable, but regal enough. You ditch the shoes. You’ve been alive for nearly two millenniums. You know your beauty is already unmatched, and you needn’t worry yourself with discomfort. Your feet rarely touch the floor, anyways.

But your current maid doesn’t seem to agree, and always argues with you about the fucking shoes. Before she even begins, you hiss at her.

This maid, Bethild, is one you’ve had for a while now. First joining your service as a young woman, Bethild was now rather old and round, you think. She tuts at you for hissing before crossing her arms, ready to give you a lecture.

“It’s not befitting of a Lady in your position to be hissing,” Bethild addressed you in ways others would die for, but you rather liked her, and Astarion did too.

But before she could continue, you use your vampiric telepathy to force your way in. THE DRESS IS LONG ENOUGH. NOBODY WILL SEE. You scream this into her mind, trying to cause her a bit of pain, maybe some nausea.

Bethild knows when she’s lost a battle, and she murmurs something about your Master hearing about this as she bumbles her way out of your room.

You roll your eyes at her as she leaves. Why must we do this everyday? You reach out to your husband. But he doesn’t immediately respond, because he already knows your grief: it is simply becoming increasingly difficult for you to tolerate mortals.

We can get you a new maid, my consort. Or we can get rid of them all together. Whatever it is you want, it will be yours. Astarion reaching into your mind is always comfortable, and the contact sends a shiver to your core.

You didn’t understand how Astarion could handle it so well. So much better than you. You were thankful that he could, of course, but you just didn’t understand.

You’re perfect the way you are, my consort. You don’t need to be like me. You are mine, and I will always take care of you.

Once you’re ready, you float to your throne, making a bit of a scene because of your tardiness. Astarion doesn’t care; the subjects can wait, especially for you.

As you take your seat, Astarion holds your hand, idly (and a bit anxiously) playing with your fingers as he handles business. He likes to look at them as he mulls over the proceedings in his mind; he plays with your rings, twisting them around your fingers and sometimes switching them between digits. Every day, he looks forward to seeing what choice of jewelry you will make. It makes him feel tremendous pride to see the beauty of your soft and smooth hands, and to see the decadent jewels on your pretty fingers.

Whatever business Astarion is handling today is, frankly, totally lost on you. If something important happens, something you need to know, Astarion will tell you.

So, you lose yourself in the folds of you and your eternal lover’s mind. You always enter this vampiric trance during court. You needn’t speak, because you trust your beloved creator to speak for you.

After a few hours and a few dealings later, something briskly breaks you out of this trance. That unease.

Astarion squeezes your hand to draw your attention to him. You meet his gaze, and you see a lot there: love, need, possession, inquiry, frustration. You’re having a hard time parsing through it, but what you gather is you are making Astarion extremely uncomfortable.

We’re almost done here. After court, you will be sequestered away until I know you are safe. Is all he communicates with you.

It’s just a sense of unease, my love. Please just stay with me, you are all the protection I need. Don’t lock me away. You are practically begging at this point, but your face gives nothing away. You are dampened by your curse. Rather it be the vampiric curse or the curse of time, you aren’t sure. You are still you, but your light shines dimmer.

Astarion narrows his eyes at you. Your foresight has been right before.

You shake your head at him. Now, you’re both starting to lose your poker faces. The mortals murmur around you, but the two of you exist only with each other at this moment, and the rest of the world is diminished.

This is different. It’s just a feeling, nothing more. I’ve had no visions, Master. You call him this to soften him up; it makes Astarion’s cock twitch just to hear you say the word.

As Astarion’s thoughts turn lewd, a servant approaches him, informing him of the next visitor to be heard. You feel Astarion’s mind slip away from yours as he focuses on the world around him.

But the words of the servant are tumbling around in his head. Scary, strange looking elf.

What? You ask, probing into Astarion’s mind.

He looks over to you, his handsome features and lustful eyes (he’s still having some lewd thoughts) causes your breath to catch and sends your second heartbeat to race. He said the visitor knew us, and was a terrifying, strange looking elf.

A picture has already formed in Astarion’s mind of a strange green egg that was briefly in your possession during your adventuring days. Still holding each other’s gaze, you both silently acknowledge that the ‘strange elf’ is in fact, not an elf.

The two of you further slip into each other's minds, a feeling so familiar by now yet no less pleasurable. The folds of your waking mind are fondled by his, and as he is weaving through you, he finds a memory he cannot ignore: that pretty clearing. His own version of the memory rises within him, meeting yours halfway. He is focused on that first kiss, that first taste of you, your folds, the taste of your sweat…

You can’t help but smile as you hear Astarion’s heart racing. The passage of time is cruel and has taken many things from you and Astarion both. But neither of you could ever forget that first night.

Focus, my lover. You poke at him.

Astarion smirks. It must be a githyanki. We fought many of them, remember, little love?

You remember, only vaguely. Astarion’s memory was much sharper than yours, due to his ascended state.

Deciding to give it no more thought, you drift off into your trance again, and Astarion lets you. You needn’t care about this mysterious visitor; you had other things to worry about, like drinking blood, striking fear into the hearts of mortals, and how you were going to convince your darling husband to get on his knees and put his pretty lips on your glistening, swollen sex later tonight.

You glance at Astarion as he’s listening to one of the servants. You focus on his pretty lips, and how perfect they look around your nipple, or your clit.

You think you’ll start by wearing a low cut dress to dinner - yes, that would be the right move. He wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off the plush curve of your breasts, especially if you could manage to wear a corset. You’re also thinking you’ll skip the panties, because surely you can goad him into putting a hand up your skirts. Maybe you’ll invite him to feed on your inner thigh; he loves that tender spot so much, he likely wouldn't be able to help himself to having a taste of you —

“I see your union has stood the test of time,” The sound of the woman’s voice snaps you back into the present with a whirl. You know her voice. You know her face, even: pretty, green skin, orange hair, she even looks rather young, still.

“It is good to see you both. You look….well.” The githyanki says. She is wearing armor, and has a long sword sheathed on her back. She looks at you uneasily, but you see a fondness in her eyes and a comfortable sense of familiarity.

Lae’zel. Astarion tells you. She was once your lover. You can feel Astarion seething at the reminder that once, you were not his. You don’t really know how to respond to him, because you do remember your time with Lae’zel, but it was so long ago it is literally ancient history.

You knit your brows together as you take her in. Her coming must be that feeling of unease. And Astarion tells you as much as he converses with Lae’zel. She wants something, he tells you. Despite his broiling jealousy, Astarion keeps a cordial, straight face as he converses with Lae’zel.

She has been in the Astral Plane, a place outside of time and space, fighting a seemingly never ending war with Vlaakith. And she has come to her only living allies on the mortal plane, the Ancunins, for help.

Lae’zel and Astarion come to an agreement for a private meeting on the morrow. Astarion’s emotions are all over the place; he ends court early, deciding to sequester you to the bedchamber early.

As he marches you to the boudoir, hand on your wrist as you’re barely keeping up with him, Astarion is stopped by a servant. Whatever message Astarion receives leaves him feeling desperate - his mind was disarranged, his face twisted in grief.

Parsing through his mind, you can’t even manage to make out a few words - whatever has happened, Astarion is either hiding it from you or still trying to process it himself. Likely a bit of both, you decide.

But once the two of you reach your bed chambers, he becomes a single minded man.

Astarion grabs both of your wrists with one hand and has you bent over the bed before you can even register your own movement. With his other hand, he is pushing up your skirts, finding his way to your naked sex.

“How ignorant of me to believe all of your past lovers were dead,” His voice escapes through gritted teeth, low and raspy. Astarion maneuvers you on the bed so that you are now on your knees with your ass in the air, hands still being held behind your back. With no way to support yourself, your head rests on the bed.

So much for your plan of getting Astarion on his knees for you.

Astarion’s grip on your wrists tighten as his other hand grazes your exposed labia, caressing the lips of your cunt with his dexterous fingers before sliding a finger inside of you until he is knuckle deep.

“Do you remember your time with her, my consort?” The sensation of his finger being dragged against your slick, spongy walls send you rolling your hips into his hand, desperate for more.

Yes, you think desperately, even though he already knows the answer. He’s surely searched your mind already, probably long ago.

“Say it. Use your words,” His tone is harsh, but his fingers gentle as he slides another into you with little resistance.

“Yes, I remember,” You say, the words feeling odd in your mouth. You realized you hadn’t spoken aloud in quite a while.

Astarion lets go of your hands and brings his arm around your front, a hand gripping your neck and bringing you upright, so that your back is to his chest. His two fingers are still buried inside you.

“I am forever yours, Astarion,” His grip on your neck is gentle, and you’re able to turn your head to look at him. His ruby eyes bore into you, such a perfect reflection of your own.

His own eyes are pleading. Tell me. Please.

You brace yourself. Not because you don’t mean it, but because you know you will never hear the reciprocation spoken aloud.

“I love you, Astarion,” You supplicate.

His eyes are wet, just for a moment, and then his lips crash into yours, his hand trailing up to grab your jaw, to guide you to him. He relinquishes you from his fingers and quickly removes his clothing, not wasting any time to put himself between your legs.

Your dress is long gone by the time Astarion lines his cock up with your entrance, eyes locked with yours in an intense gaze.

“Say it again. For your Master, spawn,” He growls. You knew this was merely just a part he wanted you to play sometimes, but it hurt all the same. He knew this. But he needed this from you.

“I love you eternally, Master,” You speak with a soft voice barely above a whisper as Astarion rubs his swollen tip against your puffy folds.

His ruby eyes bore into you as he pushes into you slowly; a moan escaping his pretty lips once he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside of you. He leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead before meeting your gaze again.

“You are my everything, Tav.” His voice is raw, and this is all he can manage before his lips meet yours again. You clench around his cock as he begins to set a slow, steady pace.

That tiny longing inside of you vanishes, and you know that you are his everything. You tangle your hand in his hair and deepen your kisses; Astarion whimpers at this, and when he quickened his pace, your cunt is making lewd, squelching noises at the power of his thrusts.

“Gods above,“ Astarion breathes against your lips. He begins to play with you, adjusting his pace until he finds the perfect rhythm to exuberate the lewd sounds of your desperation.

Bringing himself upright, Astarion watches you; your lips are parted, showing off your beautiful fangs, which he loves so much. He admires your smooth, unmarred skin, as he was careful not to leave any scars on your body. Sure, he had wanted to permanently mark you, but he thought it cruel and pointless: you are his, and nothing will ever change that.

As Astarion slides his cock along your walls, you can’t help but clench around him as you eye your gorgeous husband.

Astarion’s beauty was that of literal legends; as you eye his disheveled curls, the cut of his muscles and jaw, and you know that every ballad, every poem, every story of the beauty of Astarion the Decadent, Hero of Baldur’s Gate, is true.

Astarion needs to taste you now, and he slowly pulls his cock out from your desperate cunt, causing you to whimper from the loss. Astarion lowers himself between your legs before examining your sex.

“I’ve made a sloppy little mess of you, haven’t I?” Astarion smirks at you, his pupils blown with lust. With his fingers, he spreads your folds, eyeing you as your anticipation grows. He swipes his tongue from your entrance to your clit before he wraps his lips around your swollen, glistening clit and begins to suck; his tongue is so soft, so gentle, and the steady circles he is making with his tongue have you trembling beneath him.

“Perfect…” He murmurs against your sex, the vibration of his silky voice causing you to whimper. “You’re so…” He can’t even finish his sentence as he begins to devour you, and he is desperate to taste you as you come. He has you screaming his name in mere seconds, and you are putty in his hands as he brings himself back up to his knees and rams his cock in you.

You’re so wet, and to your surprise, Astarion inserts two fingers inside you along with his cock; the stretch makes you groan, and he smiles wildly as his other hand grasps your jaw, pulling your head aside to expose your neck to him.

Mine. Mine. Mine. To do with as I please. Body, blood, and soul. You’re mine to fuck, to stretch out, to eat, to use, and you can never leave me. This scares you, but you can’t deny your increasing wetness for him. And you can’t deny the truth of his words.

Astarion slides his fangs into you, making you shudder as he moans loudly; he is so deep inside you, you can feel his swollen tip hitting your cervix, and you claw at his scalp and his back as he drinks you in.

After just a few sips, Astarion is coming undone, and his arms are around you now, holding you so tightly to him that you can’t breathe. You can feel his balls contracting against the curve of your ass as he spills his seed inside you. He trails mindless kisses on your skin as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.

He holds you to him for a while, cock still inside of you, and you can feel the decreasing thump of his heart against your chest. Eventually, he rolls over, and when you’re released from his cock, you feel his seed spilling out of you, dripping down your slick folds and pooling at your pert asshole.

“I’m going to commission a painting of you, just like this.” He says as he examines the damage. “I’d have to gouge their eyes out after, of course.”

Of course. You reach out in agreement with a smile on your face.

“Speak, my darling. I want to hear your pretty voice.” Astarion gathers you between his legs, your back to his chest as he wraps his arms around you and cradles you to him. He’s still trailing kisses wherever he can: your neck, your shoulder, your cheek, your ear.

“Sorry. Habit.” It was a habit, but nowadays, it was more of a preference.

“You needn’t apologize, lover,” Astarion rests his head on your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your skin. “I’d like you to attend the meeting with Lae’zel with me.”

You needn’t be anywhere but right by my side. Lord Moth’s estate was attacked again. A few of his spawn were killed.

Well, that is far better than being locked in the boudoir, you think. “Of course I’ll come with you.”

After a moment, you speak again. “I can’t believe she’s still alive. I thought all our past friends were dead.”

“Me too. From what I can recall about Lae’zel, it was ignorant of us to think that woman could ever die.” The two of you giggle as you reminisce on old adventures, the ones Astarion is willing to dwell on, to enjoy.

Astarion doesn’t mention his jealous feelings about Lae’zel’s sudden reappearance, but you feel it in his actions as the two of you spend the rest of the day in bed; he takes you again, biting you in places he had never before, coming in every hole of yours that he could, until you were well and truly taken and used.

Eventually, the two of you drift off in each other's arms, as you always did. But your lasting thoughts are not on blood, fear, or Astarion’s cock (well maybe a little bit), but on the ‘why’ of Lae’zel’s return. Astarion shares in your anxiety, but assures you to be patient, as all will be revealed on the morrow.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

Next Chapter

#ascended!astarion #astarion smut #astarion bg3 #Ascended Astarion x reader #Ascended Astarion x tav #Ascended Astarion x you #astarion x female tav #lae'zel is also here lol #soft ascended astarion #lord astarion #spawn tav #astarion #vampire tav #ascended!astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #Killing Time

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fushipurro · 7 months

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In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 6 - Vega

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, heavy angst, depression, suicidal ideation, implied/reference ED, mentions of blood (nosebleed), emotional hurt/comfort, insecure/intrusive thoughts

☆ Word Count: 7.8k

After your little “diner date” as Shoko and the gang started calling it, you found yourself hanging out with Toji more often than not, much to your surprise. You had your worries that the opposite would occur during said “date”, but it appears now to have brought you closer together.

Meals between the three of you ─ Megumi included of course ─ became a common occurrence, along with shared trips to the store. With winter settling in now, Toji stated he felt more comfortable with having you in his car instead of letting you carry bags home in the snow.

“Don’t need you freezin’ to death out here,” he’d say in an effort to convince you.

Other times, he would invite you over so Megumi could share some quality time with you to make up for all the times it’s just you and his dad. And who are you to deny the sweet boy?

Tonight is one of those nights.

The day began (early afternoon for you) with some games before dinner, enjoying said meal in front of the TV while watching a movie together. Megumi loves anything that features talking animals, so you thought it best to put on Kung Fu Panda, to which he fell in love. Hard.

He tired himself out trying to replicate all the moves, leading to Toji having to carry him off to his room to sleep. Turns out in this one-bedroom apartment, the two share the same king-sized bed. Toji had said before to you that because he’s out all night working, Megumi has the bed all to himself and vice versa during the day. He even took Megumi into consideration as far as bedroom décor went, stating his only preference is the happiness of his son, even if that means his sheets have dinosaur print all over them.

“Kid’s finally asleep,” Toji tells you upon his return, sinking back down into his spot on the couch with a thump. He laughs with a simpering expression, “Now we can watch something with a little more excitement for two adults.” His eyes fall on you from the side.

You jokingly gasp. “How can you say that movie wasn’t fun?” You place your hand over your heart to exaggerate the feeling of shock. “I’m telling you now, he’s going to be doing kung fu all week and have you in the Wuxi finger hold.”

“I can fight better,” he snorts, and you giggle. “I bet I could give any dragon warrior a run for their money.” Toji raises the sleeve of his ivory-colored sweater upwards. The veins and muscles bulge as he flexes with that same annoying grin stretched across his face looking for your approval.

“Okay, Tai Lung,” you tease, your voice coy sounding. “Whatever you say.” Your eyes roll away from him and back to the TV.

Toji laughs, snagging the remote before you can even think about it. “Just for that, I’m picking the next one,” he declares.

He pans through the options, debating what might be a good choice. He has a few ideas, but his primary goal like always is to get a reaction out of you. So, when he lands on a classic you know and love, he wastes no time putting it on.

Bride of Chucky.

“Perfect.” The words roll out like a purr. Or maybe a warning growl? Either way, he puts the remote down, leaning back against the couch and draping his arm over the back.

The movie picks up right away with an introduction to the main characters as you remember quite well. Rob Zombie’s “Living Dead Girl” playing while the one and only Tiffany Valentine makes off after the first kill of the movie.

Toji had thought the combination of blood and murderous dolls would have you leaning into him for protection, but to his surprise ─ and disappointment ─ you don’t. The most he gets out of you so far is a recoil during the first murder committed by Chucky himself.

“That’s what gets a reaction out of you?” His question comes out with a pout he doesn’t even hide.

You laugh through your nose, “Hey, the stabbings are one thing, but piercings getting ripped out?” You shudder. “No thank you.”

“Not even a little afraid of some creepy ass doll running around, killing people with a knife…” He goes silent for a minute as the bathtub scene occurs. “Or…a TV?”

“If we’re talking about Slappy from Goosebumps, then yeah,” you huff. “That guy was nightmare fuel for me, but Chucky I can enjoy.” You reach out for some popcorn, ever so quietly humming to “Call Me” by Blondie as it plays.

Toji takes his own handful before speaking, “You’re one odd girl, I’ll give you that.”

It’s funny the things that can affect you. Meeting new people turns you into a stuttering mess, yet you watch horror movies without a care in the world. As if the blood and guts doesn’t do anything to you unlike the words or actions of others do.

To others, you’re that of an iceberg. The image of you that others see is only a mere glimpse with the rest hiding below the surface. All it takes to reveal that side of you is time to warm up, something Toji is finally starting to see as you grow comfortable with him in your presence. No alcohol needed.

Throughout the rest of the movie, even if you weren’t clinging to him in order to shield your eyes, he still had his ways of keeping the distance close. There’s the brushing of fingers reaching for popcorn that seemed like more than accidents or the arm he has resting behind you this entire time for you to lean your head against.

It's like the awkward theater date you never had as a teen, except you’re the only one feeling awkward about it now. But at the same time, it’s endearing because you’re going through this milestone event in your life.

Except… you still aren’t aware if he’s single or not.

All signs point to yes since you’ve never once heard of another woman, or Megumi even talking about a mother. But she could just not live here, or they’re going through something, or she’s working abroad. The fact is, until you mount the courage to ask, or he tells you, you don’t know.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping he’s single. You’re enjoying this too much to think about this crush of yours falling apart.

Toji is sweet as could be and he makes you laugh every time you’re together. He continues to treat you and while you can’t return the favor financially, you’ve been trying with the little things like bringing baked goods over with the excuse that you made too many to cover up your nerves.

It's all you could ever hope to have with a friend or even a significant other, even if all it must be is platonic. It’s something you haven’t had in a long time, and one thing you don’t want to ruin by desiring more.

The movie ends and Toji stands up to stretch, collecting the leftover dishes to clean. You take a few, following him into the kitchen area.

“I would say let’s watch another, but I can’t be late for work tonight,” he groans, and you swear you can hear him pouting even with his back facing you.

“There’s always another night,” you reassure.

“I think we should just start the kid now with the good stuff.” His head turns in your direction flashing a mischeavous grin. “What do you think about watching Alien next time?”

“And scar him for the rest of his life over the spaghetti scene?” you reply with a sarcastic tone. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Hey, I saw much worse at an earlier age and look how I turned out.” He raises both his hands and shrugs all nice and proud.

“And it’s a miracle you’re sane.” He rolls his eyes with a laugh. “I vote that we watch Finding Nemo next time. I’m sure he’d love that one especially with how similar one of the characters is to you.”

He looks to you dumbfounded. “In what way could I possibly resemble a fish?” he says with disbelief lacing his words.

You giggle, “Personality for one; Gill is tough, smart, and cares a lot almost like a dad.” You extend your hand, gesturing to the man. “And two, you share similar features, like the color black, how you glare at others, scowl, even having a facial scar.”

You bite your tongue, eyes widening at what you just said. Another piece of info Toji hasn’t told you about yet is how he even got the scar on his lip. You know more than anyone that it may not be the easiest thing to talk about, mainly if there’s trauma tied to it versus something mundane like getting cut by a sticker bush.

It doesn’t help that he’s facing away from you so you’re unable to read his current expression. “I’m sorry, I–“

“You think I’m all that, huh?” He interrupts with a huff, appearing unbothered. “Bet I’m tougher than any fish in the sea,” he tells you again, with another flex of both his arms this time around.

You sigh in relief, “What about an orca?” you ask, and he flashes you a toothy smile.

“Now that’s a better comparison for someone like me over some stinkin’ fish.”

You both laugh and continue to chat for a little while longer. While Toji is cleaning the dishware, you’re occupying yourself with Megumi’s toys, helping to tidy up. When all is said and done, he walks you out, hanging back in the threshold of his home and the hallway.

“I’ll see you later then, hope you have an easy time at work.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Try not to have any nightmares later.” He winks, and you laugh.

“If I do, then I know who to blame,” you scoff. “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Sleep tight, and don’t let the cursed dolls bite.” You roll your eyes, calmy walking into your home. Once inside, you’re anything but calm. You practically skip your way over to your couch, throwing yourself onto the cushions to pet Tsumiki.

Sweetheart.

He calls you that from time to time, and the butterflies you feel are something else. It takes a few breaths to relax from such giddy feelings. It’s been far too long since you had someone like Toji in your life, and you crave this kind of attention. This closeness. For the first time in what’s most likely been years, you feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong.

You eventually pick up your phone that you haven’t bothered to look at in the hours spent next-door, and there were several notifications to greet you.

The first dozen were some cheers from work, namely from Kento regarding the publication of the magazine you modeled for.

The second bunch were the obligatory Instagram mentions, the most important being the one from Satoru’s post alongside a series of his choice photos from that day with you.

That’s when you remember things can and will go wrong, as the third set are all various notifications of strangers blowing up your account. The majority falls under Satoru’s post, a bunch of his followers spitting venom your way to target you.

Who’s this nobody he’s with?

Can she get any closer to him? I bet she’s just using him for clout

Must’ve been torture for him :( she’s not even that pretty lmao

Would look so much better with only Satoru.

You want to look away, you really do. You’d love nothing more than to shut your phone off and throw it at the wall, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

It’s nothing new for you to be hated on like this. The sad reality is that it’s to be expected, no thanks to the anonymity of the internet. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

They’re jealous.

You know that.

Just obsessed fans taking out their anger on you because they wish it was them at his side.

You know that too, but it doesn’t stop the dark cloud that hangs over you wherever you go.

Why don’t you just stay in your lane? Be a flower on the wall?

You should’ve turned the project down, given it to someone else. You don’t deserve the recognition it brings.

This is your fault, you know. You should’ve listened to your parents when they said you weren’t going to succeed in life.

You sit up properly on the couch, tucking your knees to your chest. For a while, all you can bring yourself to do is stare blankly at the screen, watching all the new messages come through every passing minute. It’s a given, considering Satoru’s astonishingly high following. It isn’t until your phone shuts down from a low battery that you throw it aside and fall to your side, letting the tears come cascading down.

You wake up later, still lying on your side with a damp feeling against your face. The light that comes through your apartment is soft, no doubt earlier in the day compared to when you normally choose to wake up. Begrudgingly, you push yourself off the couch, listening to every creak your bones make like dated wood.

The first thing you do is plug your phone in to charge, followed by feeding Tsumiki her breakfast. You ponder whether you want anything, but even if your stomach was growling, you don’t feel all that deserving to eat. Not only does your depression take away your appetite at times, but it also puts a strain on the relationship you have with food and other things pertaining to your day-to-day life.

A shower helps. At least there you can attempt to drown out your thoughts with the water that rains down. Even when physically after you’re clean and smell nice, you still don’t feel all that great. Against your better judgement, you go to see how things were looking today on your phone.

The answer?

Worse.

More of the same shit fills your feed, but with the added bonus now of threats and other hate in your DMs, and all over your own posts that had nothing to do with the magazine. All are a courtesy from the people with nothing better to do than wish harm upon you for breathing the same air as their celebrity crush.

Speaking of, there’s a new message from him.

Satoru Gojo heyyy so sugu, sho, and I are going out to star plasma later to celebrate, you wanna meet up???

You Sorry, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on :( hope you guys have fun though!

Satoru Gojo boooo :( well if you change your mind, we’ll be there <3

You wonder if he’s seen the same hate you have, or maybe he’s just that good at ignoring it for his own sanity. That, or maybe he just doesn’t care what they’re saying. Not everyone is like you.

Oh, how you wish you could be like that. You also wish you didn’t feel the need to lie to him about having work. The thought of the gang seeing you in this state fills you with disgust, not to mention if Toji’s working tonight.

You place your phone back down on your nightstand, eyes drifting across to your bed. Most of the time, it’s the only place you want to be in, all wrapped up nice and tight under lays of blankets.

Other times it feels like a prison.

All the fabric acting like chains, keeping you bound to your mattress with no hope to escape. It’s during these times that everything outside the walls of your apartment frighten you to no end. And like always, you give in to the call of your damnation.

Sinking down into the cold sheets, you stare now up at the blank, white ceiling. The various scuffs and spots act like sheep for you to count as you make a mental note to clean them later. That will have to wait for a day you feel capable. A day you feel better if that day ever comes before it’s too late.

Why does it seem so easy for others to ignore all the drama of life and intrusive thoughts? They make it sound so easy, that being a normal, functional being is easy but here you are, wallowing in your own misery. You long to feel happy in life rather than the sorrow you feel now.

But will that ever happen?

A few unremarkable days have gone by since then, and you still bear no signs of feeling better.

You’ve stopped crying now, but the emptiness took over. Somehow you manage to get out of bed, only to mindlessly complete your work and anything else you have to do. Tsumiki’s been hanging close-by, as if she senses how distraught you are. Her meows and cuddles are the only thing bringing a ghost of a smile to your face as you shut out the rest of the world.

Food has been minimal, most of it not even having a taste when it hits your tongue. Your appetite is lacking either for anything more than a few bites. All in all, you’re just passing time until you can fall asleep, letting time go by that you later hate yourself for missing.

Depression is an awful cycle.

Today you decided you needed to head to the store. You tell yourself it’s to get Tsumiki more food or toys for putting up with you, but the truth is that your fridge is looking scarce. Your meals have mainly consisted of whatever is easy to make, jokingly referring to it as “girl dinners” to try and make yourself laugh.

You don’t put much thought into your outfit, choosing to wear something easy to keep you warm in this December month. Sometimes it’s nice to try and look pretty to help your confidence and all, but right now you’d rather hide under bulky fabrics. There doesn’t feel like much of a point to care, either way. What does it matter?

It's a quick trip in the end, only coming back with a few bags. You keep your eyes low to the ground, counting the concrete tiles to keep your mind at bay. It works, up until you notice your neighbor hunched over an idled car out front of your building.

Something’s off, you notice, and it makes the hairs stand straight up on your neck.

Never once have you seen Toji express an emotion like the one you’re seeing ─ the death stare he’s giving whoever is sitting in the car. For someone so typically calm, this apparent anger is so much scarier than any cursed doll could hope to achieve.

Who is he talking to?

You want to know, but at the same time you don’t if they’re upsetting Toji this much. Your breathing stills as you walk by, hoping to slip into the front door without being noticed. You make it as far as a few steps up before you’re stopped short from a voice.

“Hey.”

Your body tenses up. You’ve been avoiding contact with anyone outside of work for a few days, and you especially don’t want to be near whatever was going on outside just moments ago. He doesn’t need to be burdened by you.

“Hey, Toji.” You turn your head slowly to the man, weakly smiling.

He makes a few steps up to where you are, a silent urge to continue heading up to your floor together. The fire you previously saw raging in his eyes no longer appears present, instead replaced with his normal scowl.

“I saw your friends the other night at the bar, was hoping you’d be with ‘em.”

You exhale quietly, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, I– wasn’t feeling it that day,” you mutter.

Toji’s eyes narrow with furrowed brows to match but he continues with your pace.

“I’ve got some time before my shift if you wanted to watch that fish movie or somethin’ else,” he asks. You bite your lip as you think of your response.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” You go silent for a moment, save for the tapping of shoes against the tiled floor. “Some other night?”

He raises his hand sheepishly to his neck. “Yeah, no problem,” he says with the hint of disappointment in his words.

Fuck, you don’t want to hurt him. Especially with another lie to someone close to you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning the key in your front door. “See you later.”

“See yo–“ The door shuts before Toji can even finish responding.

The guilt settles in like a knife to your heart. Enough so that you slide your back down the door to sit with your head between your knees.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Disgust drips off your words.

Tsumiki comes right up to you purring away. For several minutes, you remain there on the ground petting her before finally getting up to put the groceries away. Shortly after, you return to your bed, indulging yourself with some good old blue-light exposure therapy. Tsumiki joins you, bringing in one of the new toys you bought for her.

Later, a soft knocking startles you from your sleep, not even realizing you had fallen asleep in the first place. The time on your phone shows that it’s after midnight, so who in their right mind needs you at this hour?

Cautiously, you approach the door, peering through to the peephole only to reveal…no one?

Huh, wrong house?

You turn away from the door, only for there to be another knock, but still nothing through the peephole. You end up opening the door without even thinking, and now you realize why you couldn’t see anything.

“Megumi?” He stands there teary-eyed, clutching his frog plush tightly in his arms. “What’s wrong, did something happen?” you ask with a gentle voice.

“I had a bad dream.” He sniffles, his lip starting to quiver with oncoming sobs.

“Come here, ‘Gumi.” You take him into your arms, lifting him up, and closing the door behind you as you take him to the couch. With one hand, you rub soft shapes over his back as you sit him down with you. “There, there,” you coo.

Megumi holds on to you tightly like a baby koala. There’s a damp feeling sticking to your chest from the tears falling from his eyes. In this moment, you put aside whatever troubles you might have. He needs you right now.

You give him a minute to relax and calm down, waiting to ask, “Do you want to talk about it?” But he shakes his head in response. “That’s alright, you don’t have to,” you tell him softly, further adding, “I’m right here with you, you’re safe now.”

Toji must be at work for Megumi to have come knocking, so you pull up his number on your phone, texting to let him know about the situation.

“Hey, ‘Gumi? You want to try going back to sleep?” He whines into your shirt, doing everything he can with his tiny hands to stay fixed to you.

“Don’t leave me, please…” He sniffles, and your heart breaks. There are those words again, you think, remembering the time in the bathroom with him once before.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reassure.

You give him some time to calm down, humming a familiar lullaby to whisk him away to sleep. He grumbles when you place him down into your bed, the spot still warm from your earlier rest, but he finds that he can’t fight his heavy eyelids. Between your song and the fingers running through his hair, he has no choice but to fall asleep once again.

“Ma..ma…” he murmurs, and you feel a tear fall from your eye.

Tsumiki joins you now, curling right up to Megumi’s side like the comforting angel she is. You send another message to Toji to let him know he’s still with you, to which he replies that he’ll be right over after his shift ends.

So much for avoiding contact with others, but it’s for Megumi’s sake right now.

It feels like déjà vu the next time you hear the knocking at your front door.

“Hey Toji,” you greet, parting the door for him to enter. He looks around with a confused look at first. He’s thrown off by the lack of lit candles, ambient light, or anything else. Instead, it’s just you, illuminated only by the moonlight peeking through the apartment.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, meeting your eyes. It’s a good thing it’s dark, so he hopefully can’t see the evidence of your tears.

“No, I haven’t slept yet,” you admit, and it only serves to puzzle him further. There’s a lot he wants to ask, but you’re already motioning towards your bedroom. He sighs, moving to catch up with you.

“He looks right at home,” Toji remarks, brushing Megumi’s hair back to better see his face. He gives Tsumiki some attention, careful not to disturb his son’s sleep in the process. Once Megumi is up into his arms, the two of you head back towards your door. He stops, turning to look you in the eyes again. “Thanks for watching him.” He doesn’t move from his spot, though his brows begin to furrow in thought. “About earlier…is everything okay? Did I do something to upset you?”

You feel your stomach dropping. The guilt you felt earlier comes crawling back up with razor-sharp claws. “Oh. No, no ─ I’m…sorry about that,” you stammer out, feeling your chest tighten. “You didn’t do anything, I promise.”

“What’s up then, you’ve been actin’ weir–“ Megumi interrupts with some slight stirring in his sleep from Toji’s raised voice.

“I’m okay, Toji. Really,” you try and convince, despite feeling the exact opposite. Another lie that stains your soul, but you remind yourself that it’s not his problem. You’re not his burden to bear.

You’re not sure if even bought it, especially after the noncommittal grunt he makes with eyes that stare intently, as if peering into your soul despite the darkness.

“Alright,” he says after a minute, his voice noticeably calmer, but still unsure. “If there is something, you can talk to me, okay?”

“I will, thanks.” You open the door to let him out. “Goodnight.”

His head dips to you before the door shuts completely. “Goodnight,” he replies, with your name punctuating.

For some reason it hurts to hear your actual name for once instead of a pet name.

With your apartment empty once again, it feels colder than ever. Lately you’ve been feeling that way a lot. It’s only when Toji is there that your house truly feels like a home.

You meander your way back into bed, curling up into a ball facing the window. You can’t shake the cold you’re feeling, no matter the number of blankets overtop your body. Even the dimly lit skies seem to relate with you.

When was the last time you could see the stars shining so beautifully?

There was a time you yourself felt like a bright star once, one that floated easily through the cold expanse of the universe without any issue. Unlike the other stars that met their fate, there was no spectacular supernova at the end of it all. No rainbow plumes of stardust to vividly show all of existence how good of a life you’ve lived.

It was more like a flip of a switch when it came to you. Shining one day like normal and the next, a bleak void of what you once were, absent of any light.

You roll away to face the wall opposite of your room, moving your hands to clasp either shoulder in a self-embrace.

I miss the warmth.

You wake up alone for once, with Tsumiki nowhere to be found from where you lay. It’s nothing you worry about quite yet, as you figure she’s out in the living room watching birds. You get up to investigate, but to your dismay, she isn’t out there either.

You don’t see her anywhere.

Strange, you think. Maybe she’ll come out for breakfast…?

You try that next. Heading to the kitchen to prepare her usual pampered meal, making noise as you call for her.

“Tsumi!” you croon, adding a pspsps after, but again, nothing.

There’s no way she could’ve gotten out of the house, so she must be around here somewhere. Your heart beats a mile a minute as you’re scouring in and around every piece of furniture you have looking for her. Eventually, you do find her, all tucked away inside your closet on a pile of your clothes.

“There you are!” you exhale in relief. “Do you know how worried I was?” you coo. You then move to pick her up and she doesn’t protest, but she also doesn’t start purring or mewling either.

You bring her out the kitchen, placing her down with her bowl. Your heart sinks again when she sniffs the dish and ultimately turns her nose up.

Tears weld up at the edge of your eyes. “Fuck, Tsumi’, don’t do this to me.” You start to pace, chewing anxiously on your lip as you watch her huddle up in another corner of your apartment. “What’s the matter, baby?”

Fuck, fuck, what do I do?

Searching the internet is your first idea, but the results are anything but helpful. Half the results are akin to that of WebMD (read: you’re already dead). By this point, you’re hysterical now, fixing to hyperventilate as the last bit of control you have slips away.

Of all the times for something like this to happen, it has to happen to Tsumiki. You’d give anything to swap places because you love her more than life itself. But when it rains, it pours, and right now it feels like a hurricane is hanging overhead.

She needs a vet, but you can’t possibly run with her across town. Waiting for a taxi will only prolong whatever she’s suffering from. Fuck, if only you could afford your own car, this wouldn’t be an issue!

But then you remember one thing.

Toji has a car.

Toji.

With no time to waste, you sprint out the door of your apartment, frantically knocking on his all while desperately hoping he’s even home to answer. Your prayers are answered when the door opens, revealing the man himself, half-asleep and shirtless.

“Toji, I-I-I–“ your voice cracks between sobs.

“Woah, woah, slow down,” he interrupts, placing his hands on both ends of your shoulders. He lowers his head to your level. Seeing you in distress snaps him awake. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Tsumiki ─ I-I don’t know, I think she’s sick!” you stammer out, “I need to get her to a vet but–“

“Go get her; I’ll get my keys.” His voice is calm as he tries to reassure you, bringing his thumb up your cheek, wiping away a tear with the rough padding of his thumb. “Breathe, okay?” You nod, but you’re still trembling.

Toji releases his hands from you, allowing you to run back inside to grab Tsumiki. You place her gently into her transport while at the same time, Toji enters your apartment, taking the crate from your unsteady hands.

The two of you exit the building as quickly as you can, letting Toji settle her into the backseat while you situate yourself right there at her side, cooing to ease your baby’s scared hollers. Toji wastes no time pulling out on the main road for the directions you gave him, putting on his seatbelt as he went.

From time to time, he looks back at you through the mirror, seeing you hunched over in tears over the crate. You’re trying to be calm for her, you really are, but it’s so hard.

You arrive in record time at the emergency clinic, Toji once again carrying the crate inside the building while you briskly make your way to the receptionist. You tell them your name, and everything else they need to know while they work on all the check-in procedures, eventually handing you a clipboard and pen to fill out with further information to fill out.

Toji guides you with a steady hand to the waiting area which includes several benches and tables to take advantage of. He places Tsumiki’s crate on a spot directly in front of you, pulling you down to sit instead of letting you pace the room. Both your legs and hands are shaking uncontrollably with fear, teardrops dotting the paper and ink as you try to write out what they need.

“Hey.” Toji cups your dominant hand with his own, bringing the movement to a standstill. “Breathe,” he calmly requests. “I know it’s tough, but you gotta try and relax for Tsumiki. You aren’t gonna be helpful to her if you suddenly drop over,” he tells you, and he’s right.

“I can’t let anything happen to her,” you mutter with a hoarse voice. You lean forward in your seat, moving your hands to the back of your head.

Toji slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him. “I know.” His words are low, only for you to hear as he speaks into your ear.

“I don’t know what I’d do if something h-happened to her, she’s–“ A hiccup interrupts you. “she’s all I have left. Without her, I…I can’t.”

Toji takes the clipboard from you, putting it next to Tsumiki so he can fully embrace you with both arms. Your head is pulled against his chest and the fabric of his shirt helps to muffle your shattering heart.

“That’s not true,” he begins, his tone of voice calm, but equally stern, “You have me, Megs, those other three friends, even that boss of yours. You said it all yourself to me.” He pauses, bringing his hand up through your hair. His grip is tight yet offers indescribable comfort. The bottom of his jaw settles on the crown of your head. “You are not alone. Not anymore,” he promises.

If you could put a pin on when you start to fall in love in with someone, this would be one of those moments. Even if all he’s doing is reassuring you as any good friend would, it means the world to you and more. A moment in time you’ll never forget for as long as you live.

“Toji, I–“ You lift your head from his chest, taking one sniffle before you catch that metallic scent. You move fast to clutch your nose, but it’s too late. “Shit!” you hiss.

Toji leans back to see what happened. His eyes widen upon seeing the blood trickling down the palm of your hand, hitting his shirt in the process. Thankfully, there’s plenty of tissues given the environment, so he grabs a handful to hold under your nose.

“Fuck,” you cry out, “I’m so sorry, Toji.”

“Don’t be,” he huffs with some underlying amusement. “A bit of blood is nothing, I couldn’t care less.” You swap places with his hand holding the tissues. “Are you okay?” he asks, helping to clean the area around your hand.

“I’m sorry, Toji,” you mumble, lowering your head. “I’m such a mess right now, I don’t mean to burden you.”

“Don’t say that,” he replies, resting his palm on the apex of your head, teasing your hair in the process like he does to Megumi. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and you’re not a burden. Let your ‘knight in shining armor’ be here for you.” He winks.

His helpful teasing earns the hint of a smile on your face and a short-lived laugh, but it’s enough to begin to lighten the mood. At least until you hear a voice calling out your name.

You stand up, reaching out for Tsumiki’s carrier but then you hesitate. “Hey Toji?” He hums in acknowledgement. “Do you mind coming with me for this, please?”

He smiles. “Not at all, princess.”

When all is said and done, Toji drives you back home, walking you back up into your apartment. There, he places the carrier down gently, allowing Tsumiki to roam free.

“I feel, so stupid,” you sigh, kneeling down and hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment. “All of that for a simple tummy ache.”

Toji chuckles, “Hey, it shows how much you love her. You can’t fault yourself there.”

You turn your head to look at him with a soft smile. “I’m sorry I took so much time out of your day.” Your mind flashes back to when he opened the door earlier in his sleeping form and you can feel the heat reawakening in your body. “I woke you up for it too,” you breathe out a laugh.

“What did I say about the apologies, princess?” He crouches down in front of you causing his denim jeans to bunch up. One of his knees bumps against yours given how close he is. “I’d like to know what else is bothering you though,” he suddenly inquires, and you feel the same guilt you felt the last time creep back up like bile in your throat.

Once again, you border on the crossroads of what to say. It’s a huge step to trust someone else enough to share your vulnerabilities ─ but if it’s Toji… maybe you can? You did it before and it worked out better than expected.

You remain quiet as you stand from your spot, moving towards the couch. While you’re busy pulling your phone out, he rises and makes his way over to your side.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, trying to meet your eyes. “But we’re friends. I want to help you if you’ll let me.”

It’s a lot coming from Toji.

You’ve learned over the course of knowing him that feelings don’t come easy. He does what he can, and what he feels is the best course of action. It’s a big reason as to why you struggle to pay him back for all his moments of kindness. You’ve come to realize that that’s how he best expresses himself, not only through teasing, but also through acts of service.

Being not only a bartender, but also more importantly a father, it’s forced him to open up more to others and to himself. To reflect on his own feelings and shortcomings so he can be better for Megumi. It’s not easy and he certainly doesn’t do all this effort for others, but for you, he will.

You pass him the device silently, pulling your knees to your chest. You let one knee rest against your cheek as you look his way, and at the same time you avoid eye contact. Toji’s expression softens, and there’s the slightest hint of red on his ears, but mainly there’s some confusion in his features.

“These are beautiful ─ you’re beautiful,” he tells you, looking back your way. “What’s the problem with ‘em?”

You want to smile. It’s hard not to let alone the blush trying to come alive. There’s just one issue.

“This,” you proclaim, scrolling down to expand the comment section with your finger. “This,” you repeat, “is the problem.” You wrap your arms around your legs, hugging them to you with an empty expression.

He looks back and his face immediately darkens into a scowl. “You know they’re just spewing shit out of their asses, right? Bunch of dumb fucks that don’t have anything better to do,” he grumbles, more curses following under his breath.

“They’re not all wrong though,” you let out a dry chuckle.

“No, uh uh.” He shakes his head, the words spilling out fast and like that of a growl, “Do not do that to yourself. Don’t think for a second this shit means anything.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it!” you exclaim, drawing out each word. Your fears have come alive as the dam breaks. The tears that fall from your eyes are hot and heavy, flooding down your cheeks. “Every single thing they say sticks with me, and I hear it all the time in my head!”

He moves to sit in front of you, placing one hand down on your knee. “You shouldn’t listen to anything on here,” he says more calmly this time, scrolling further down the post. “It’s all garbage, they’re garbage.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” you mumble, tightening your grip around yourself to the point your nails are digging into the fabric of your pants to reach your skin. “I hate it so much,” you drawl, “and I hate mys–“

“No.”

His tone makes you flinch, stopping you from continuing. The only noises shared between you two is that of the sobs you try and hold back to not make a sound. To not let another hear you sob.

“Look at me,” he almost whispers to you. “Please?” he insists when you don’t respond.

You eventually do, keeping half your face hidden beneath your forearms, but your eyes finally meet his own and you see the worry behind them.

“No matter what anyone says, you deserved to be on that magazine. Satoru didn’t make you the model you are, that was all you, do you understand?” He pauses, waiting for you to nod before he continues, “Listen to me when I tell you that you are beautiful. These assholes don’t mean shit, and even he agrees,” he finishes by handing you your phone back.

You’re puzzled until you see what Toji is referring to ─ a recent update on Satoru’s page where he expresses how disgusted he is by the comments. He goes on to bash the people spewing hate at someone he deems his friend and how you deserve none of it. The words bring more tears to your eyes, but not all of them are sourced from a well of sorrow this time around.

Toji goes on to say, “You should post your own pics too from that day. Be proud of yourself and the work you put in.”

You still can’t help but scoff, “Yeah, and give them more fuel? It’s bad enough they’re under all my other photos too.”

“So?” he scoffs back. “Fuck whatever they have to say. Remember what I told you.”

“Okay,” you sigh, wiping your tears. “I’ll do it.”

His lips upturn into a wolfish grin. “Good girl. Show ‘em who’s boss.” He pats your knee a few times before returning it to his side. “Now what do you say about ordering in some food? We can watch that fish thing too with Megs if you’re up for it.”

Your eyes widen, darting to the clock on your phone to see how late it is. “Oh my god, Megumi! I’m so sorry, is he–“

“Relax, he’s fine,” he states, appeasing your worries. “I had his sitter pick him up from school.”

“Oh, thank god,” you sigh again. “I was so caught up with my own shit, I completely forgot.”

“No harm done, so quit apologizing already,” he teases.

“I’m sorry ─ fuck, sorr–“ You clasp your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up. Toji gives you a blank stare with his mouth stretched in a fine line before your stomach breaks the silence with a loud growl. You hide yourself behind your legs from the humiliation, meanwhile Toji breaks out laughing.

Funny how the tables have turned.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” He stands up, pulling his phone out from his back pocket. “Speaking of the kid though, his birthday is coming up.” His hand meets the back of his neck. “It’d mean a lot to him if you’re there for it, we’re havin’ a small party.”

“I’d love to,” you reply with a bright smile ─ the first and most genuine one you’ve made in several days.

“Thanks.” He returns your smile. “I’ll go get the kid then and order your favorite, so get comfortable while I’m gone.”

As he leaves, you go back to some of the latest posts on your profile. To your surprise, a lot of the hate and threats you saw were no longer there. Even the threats in your DMs disappeared or their accounts suspended. You have a feeling Kento has something to do with this, to which you’ll have to thank him later.

You pan through the official photos from the shoot, choosing all your favorites. With a shaky hand, you remember Toji’s words and hit the button to upload your post. Moments later, a new message comes through from your group chat.

Satoru Gojo oi oi, you’re posting again! are you okay??? we miss you :(

You I’m okay now, I’m sorry for worrying you guys.

Suguru Geto Don’t be, you have every right to want your own space. We’re just happy to hear from you again.

Shoko Ieirinext time though you should tell us so we can help you feel better 💕

Satoru Gojo yeah^^^ I was this 🤏 close to getting that double D DILF you like to drive us to your place so we could see you

You oh my god, don’t even start

Satoru Gojo hehehe I can see you blushing through the screen >:3

Shoko Ieiri no need to deny the obvious :)

Suguru Geto I’m with them on this. :)

You wipe the happy tears off your face just in time for Megumi to come running in. He throws himself into you for a nice big hug, with Toji following closely behind.

“Food’s on its way, you feelin’ better?”

“Yeah.” You nod in response. “And thank you, Toji. I’m glad we’re friends,” you tell him with a sincere sounding voice.

“Me too, sweetheart.” He plops down next to you, pulling Megumi into his lap to bounce on his knee. “Now let’s get this movie going then so we can watch Alien later.” He gives you a devious grin.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, funny joke.”

“We’ll see about that,” he teases.

Megumi ends up thoroughly enjoying Finding Nemo, reciting Dory’s iconic line “just keep swimming” over and over to the amusement of you both. Toji on the other hand tries his best to deny the Gill allegations, but it proves to be an impossible battle once Megumi began to point it out and back you up on the claim.

After dinner, Tsumiki ends up joining you three on the couch as well, feeling better than ever now that she has the laps of three people to choose from for love. But between all the laughing and combined joy, you can safely say that in this moment, you feel a whole lot warmer than you did before.

☆ Notes: I will self-indulge myself with movie and song titles that I know and love unapologetically. It’s my way of giving recommendations in a self-insert fic where I try and make the reader as inclusive as I can within the realm of what I’m trying to achieve. jennifer tilly is my celebrity crush <3

also I don’t know about you all, but when I get super stressed out and cry, my nose starts bleeding like hell which is why I wanted to add that scene in specific to add to the depth of the reader's anxieties

revising this chapter makes me realize how much dialogue is hard to do for me. I get so stuck on whether or not I believe a character would actually say what I’m making them say, but then I try to remind myself that there’s some wildly outlandish stuff I’ve seen in other fics that’s still enjoyable to read even their personalities are crazy OOC. Hope that isn’t too much the case here, as soft!toji is something I really try to focus on given all the shit he’s been through.

Here's a fun toji edit by the way >:)

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji zenin #toji x female reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk au #toji x you #model!reader #megumi fushiguro #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento

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