#heavy on the emotional hurt in this one

[master-sass-blast]

Resurgence.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Chapter One, Part Five: Chapter Two, Part Five: Chapter Three, Part Six: Chapter One, Part Six: Chapter Two, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen

Summary: You grin when you step off the elevator and see Lin waiting down the hall, in the doorway of her apartment.

She smirks when she sees you, then smiles faintly when you jog down the hall to greet her. “Someone’s eager.”

“What, you didn’t miss me?”

She hums into your kiss, one strong arm banding around your waist. “Well,” she murmurs against your lips, “maybe just a little.”

You giggle, then let her usher you inside as she kicks the door shut behind you both.

-

AKA you and Lin meet up for an evening to blow off steam. Unfortunately, things don't go as planned.

Pairing(s): Lin Beifong x Reader.

Rating: M for sexual content, panic attacks, PTSD symptomatology, vomiting, and arguing.

Word count: 5.9k.

Author's Note: Me? Posting more than once a year? Surely not.

In other news, my CFS/other body and brain shit is still overwhelming. It basically took dragging myself through editing to be able to post this latest round of fics (for those of you who don't check out my other works, no worries, but I like to post in little caches so that everything is updated mostly together). I'm not trying to vie for pity; I'm really fucking proud of myself for pushing through and being able to post. I had an unofficial goal of wanting to post more fics before April was over (because April is my birth month), and I did it! I am that bitch!

Thank you all for your patience -and all the comments! They really kept me going when the grind of editing was starting to wear me down.

Happy Reading!

P.S. Shout out to the commenter who pointed out how guilty Lin must feel for not saying anything about the locks. I hadn't even thought of that.

Wake up. Stretch. Get ready for work. Catch the 8:30 morning tram.

Get to work. Clock in. Review client roster for the day. Confer with reception Start off with your first patient for the day.

Clock out for lunch. Eat lunch. Talk to coworkers. Take a short walk during break.

Clock back in for the afternoon. Work with more patients. Confer with an assistant on upcoming scheduled appointments. Take your afternoon break. Drink some tea.

Wrap up your last scheduled appointment. Update client progress charts. Tidy work space. Clock out.

Catch 5:45 evening tram. Stop by the market to pick up food for dinner. Go back home. Make dinner. Do chores and general “life maintenance.” Try to relax. Get ready for bed. Go to sleep.

And on, and on, and on, and on…

You like your job. You love the field of work you’ve picked. Carrying on your grandmother’s legacy –the tradition of the Northern Water Tribe’s healing work–gives you reason to hold your head high each morning.

You have purpose. Passion. You help people.

Maybe you’re a workaholic in denial. Or maybe it’s the fault of your mad idea to also work at Yue General as a trauma recovery specialist and on-call surgical assistant. Whatever the case, at least once a year, you hit a point where the daily grind of your life starts drilling through your head and draining your will to live.

In years past, you’d usually take a few days off, after about the fifth week of dragging yourself through the motions. You’d promise to “refresh” your life –clean up your apartment, take care of responsibilities left to the side in the wake of your waning motivation–then spend your time off eating your weight in take out and napping on your couch.

Well. It works. Each year, you’re able to return to work after a few days living as a shut-in hedonist with renewed joy and drive.

This year, however…

You grin when you step off the elevator and see Lin waiting down the hall, in the doorway of her apartment.

She smirks when she sees you, then smiles faintly when you jog down the hall to greet her. “Someone’s eager.”

“What,” you say, somewhat winded, as you slow to a stop in front of her. You wind your arms around her neck and curl your fingers into her curly, short hair. “You didn’t miss me?”

She hums into your kiss, one strong arm banding around your waist. “Well,” she murmurs against your lips, “maybe just a little.”

You giggle, then let her usher you inside as she kicks the door shut behind you both.

…

The second the deadbolt slides into place, the weight of your daily grind melts away.

Technically, the second you got a phone call from your darling girlfriend, and thus received the invitation to come over for an evening, a lot of the drudgery bearing down on you had abated. But you’d still waited, balancing electric anticipation, looming over your head as you counted down the days, then the hours, then the minutes…

You moan into Lin’s mouth as she grabs your ass with both hands.

Bliss.

You’ve always hated waiting for what you want –for anything, really.

Lin shoves you against the nearest wall. She growls when you squeeze her ass harder than necessary, then grabs your hands. “Behave.”

“No.” You take the opportunity to nip at her lower lip –which makes her gasp gloriously–then utilize her shock to fight her grip. “I–”

Lin all but slams your hands against the wall, over your head. She brushes her lips along your jawline –which makes you tremble–then murmurs huskily in your ear. “Enough. Be patient.”

“Patient?” you sputter. “I’ve been patient the whole damn week–”

“I called you only three days ago.”

“It felt like a week!” You whimper when Lin nips at the side of your neck. Feigning submission, you tip your head back and melt against her –until she loosens her grip on your wrists.

“You little–” Lin catches your hand halfway on its journey up her shirt with one hand, then grabs your face with the other. She forces you to look her in the eye and glowers down at you. “What did I just tell you?”

“You called me three days ago.” A cheeky, self-satisfied grin stretches across your face when she growls at you. You smile up at her, the picture of innocence, then use her moment of distraction to jam your thigh between her legs.

Lin lets out a choked gasp of your name and stumbles against you.

“Aw, baby, did you miss me?” you purr. “You could’ve called me so –FUCK!”

In one fluid motion, Lin tosses you over her shoulder and marches down the hall, towards her bedroom.

A short grunt escapes you when she tosses you on her bed, and then you squeal when she yanks you over her lap. In short order, your pants are yanked down around your knees. You mock-glare at her over your shoulder when she pulls roughly on your underwear. “Don’t rip these! I like them!”

Lin grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your head back down against the bed. “Shut up.”

Blissful pain shoots across your scalp. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you moan into her bedspread.

(Regardless, she heeds your demand and doesn’t ruin your underwear.)

Your underwear follow the trajectory of your pants in short order. Anticipation and arousal pulse through your cunt, prompting you to squirm atop Lin’s lap.

She pins you down by barring one strong, unyielding arm across the small of your back. Her free hand gently smooths over the swell of your bare ass –almost worshipful, in contrast to her ire with your bratting. “Last chance. Behave.”

You can’t resist. “Or what?”

Her hand cracks down against your skin.

You yelp –then whimper when she kneads your asscheek, drawing out the underlying ache. “Lin–”

“Be. Good.” She leans over your back to growl in your ear. “Or I won’t let you cum tonight.”

…Come on. She practically set that up on a silver platter for you.

“What makes you think you can make me cum to begin with?”

SMACK!

A delighted sob rips out of your throat. You writhe –well, as much as you can, anyway, since Lin’s always bound to win any contest of strength between the two of you–then moan when she spanks you one, two, three more times. Stars burst behind your eyelids, dazzling and transcendent as all coherent thought leaks out your brain through your dripping cunt. “Fucking spirits–” You groan, low and ragged, when Lin’s hand cracks down against your ass for a fourth time. “Oh shit!”

She keeps spanking you in irregular intervals, until your ass feels hot and you’re a whimpering, slick mess. Lin brushes her fingers against your labia, then pulls away when your hips push against her fingertips. “What? Nothing smart to say now?”

And you don’t. The ability to speak has since left your brain, drowned out by arousal, and endorphins, and the feeling of your girlfriend’s hand against your throbbing skin. So, in lieu of saying what’s on your mind, you opt for a physical demonstration.

“You little fucking brat–”

Or, well, you try to.

You manage to twist your arm and get half a hand on Lin’s chest –her beautiful, soft chest that you would never take your hands off, if you had things your way–before the bottom drawer of her nightstand flies open and a familiar glint of silver whizzes past your head.

Your stomach lurches, akin to airsickness, when the first metal cuff closes around your wrist.

“You never listen, never learn–”

It’s like you’ve toppled into the Northern Ocean in the midst of winter. Every muscle in your body seizes, practically frozen solid. You’re sinking, slipping beneath the surface as La drags you into their depths, theirs forevermore.

“–okay? Talk to me–”

You can’t breathe right. There’s a burlap bag over your head. You’re tied to a chair in a dank basement, there’s a bag over your head, and you’re going to die–

“Breathe.” Lin undoes the cuffs with her metalbending, then tosses them aside. She lifts you into her arms, turning you so that you’re sitting in her lap. “What’s wrong? Did I–”

“Don’t leave me again!” A broken sob tears from your throat. You throw your arms around her, clutching her close as you bury your face into her neck. Shudders wrack your body as you cry louder. “Don’t –don’t leave me–”

“Okay! Okay.” Lin cups the back of your head with one hand. “I won’t leave you. Just breathe for me, alright?”

You’re trying. But it’s like you’ve been punched in the gut. You can’t catch your breath, can’t get your diaphragm to open up properly.

“What does she taste like?”

The back of your throat burns. Your mouth tastes like acrid metal.

“I want you to tell me. What does she taste like when you use your tongue on her?”

Clammy sweat beads along your forehead.

“I guess I’ll have to find out for myself.”

You shove yourself to your feet, then clap one hand over your mouth when you retch.

Lin’s reflexes succeed where yours fail. When you double over, she grabs you by the shoulders and rushes you to the bathroom.

The first heave makes your eyes water and burn. You cough, stomach roiling as your whole body rolls. Putrid bile spews into the toilet basin on the second heave, burning your throat on the way out. You sob when you can breathe again, falling to your knees on the hard, cold tiles of Lin’s bathroom floor.

Lin’s hand is strong, yet gentle on your hair. She quickly tucks a few stray strands away from your face. “Easy. Just let it happen.”

Like I have any control here. Panting, you clutch the rim of the toilet bowl. “I–” You retch, then curl over the toilet again.

…

Things go fuzzy. Once your stomach is empty, you collapse against the side of Lin’s bathtub. You’re gasping, clammy and trembling as you try to suck down enough air to stop the feeling of drowning.

A cool glass of water is pressed into your hands. You take a small sip, rinse your mouth, then spit into the toilet bowl before slumping down again.

At some point, you wind up in Lin’s bed, tucked carefully under the covers. Your knees and hips ache from the harsh, unforgiving tile floor. Still shaking, you wince as you curl up on your side. Short, shallow breaths puff past your lips. I’m okay. It’s okay. Everything is okay. You’re safe, Lin’s here–

Except she’s not.

You bolt upright, terror coursing through your veins. The bathroom’s empty, there’s no light peeking out beneath the door to her home office, and the kitchen is silent. Your stomach drops into your feet, and you lunge out of bed. “Lin?”

“What’s wrong?” Her feet hit the floor in her living room, and then she appears at the end of the hallway, expression pinched from concern. “Are you–” She stumbles back a few steps when you careen into her. “What the –hey!”

You lock your arms around her waist and bury your face in her neck. Your pulse pounds in your ears, racing and erratic. “You left me again!”

“I–” Lin’s hands grip your shoulders tightly. “I stayed with you while–”

“Not then! Earlier! You left me!”

Lin tightens her hold on your shoulders, then forces you back so she can see your face. “I don’t know what we’re talking about!”

You lock your jaw to keep yourself from rambling and gibbering like an unhinged loon. Throat tight with fear and anguish, you force yourself to breathe as deeply as you can. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Bile roils in your empty stomach; you swallow hard, then pull away from her. “You left me. After the warehouse. After Kim.”

Lin goes perfectly still. Her wide, green eyes lock onto your face, then quickly focus on the floor instead, before finally drifting to the empty kitchen. Her scarred cheek twitches minutely. “I don’t understand what that has to do with right now.”

“I’m trying,” you spit out between clenched teeth. Frustrated –with her, with the situation, with yourself–you close your eyes and scrub at your face with your hands. “I’m not –you aren’t –I don’t want to–”

“Breathe.”

You do as Lin says, relaxing minutely when her hand brushes against your upper arm. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Use the diaphragm and abdominal muscles to control things. Deep inhale, even slower exhale.

Once you’re visibly calmer, Lin speaks again. “Why did you panic when I cuffed you?”

“I…” You swallow hard, then shrug small and sad. “I flashed back to –to the warehouse fight.” A pang of anxiety makes your voice crack. “When Kim had me tied to a chair in the basement.”

“Shit.” Lin rakes one hand through her short, wavy gray hair. “I’m sorry, I should have thought–”

“Of nothing,” you cut her off, suddenly weary.

“I should have checked in before restraining you–”

“And I would have said ‘go for it.’” You level her with a firm stare. “I didn’t know it was going to happen, either. It just… came out of nowhere.” The anxiousness crests higher, and you compensate by stepping into Lin’s space and wrapping your arms around her waist. You bury your face into the crook of her neck. “Thanks for helping me when I freaked out.”

“Of course,” Lin says as she wraps both arms around your shoulders. “What, like I was going to leave you like that?”

“I know, I know,” you reply automatically.

She left you after the warehouse.

It’s a poisonous, traitorous thought. Cold, nauseating ire roils in your gut. It turns hot as it swirls up your spine, until it breaks over your head in a tidal wave of rage and indignance.

It’s not fair. You and Lin have talked about the whole Kim aftermath fiasco. It’s been put to bed.

Has it? You chew on your lower lip as your mind turns the issue over. If you’re still upset about it, has it really been laid to rest?

How many times have you lectured your patients, after all? Some small injuries or aches, if left unattended, can morph into much bigger problems.

The tell-tale sensation snaps back –almost like vertigo, your head spins as the room suddenly feels miniscule around you. You can feel the walls of Lin’s apartment closing in around you, feel your scalp pressing against the plastered ceiling, even though your girlfriend is still holding you and your head is still comfortably pillowed against her chest. The urge to curl in on yourself, to find somewhere dark and small to hide claws up your legs and back, snarling and demanding your immediate submission. Breathe. Your eyes slip shut, and you press your forehead against your girlfriend’s shoulder. I deserve to exist. My feelings deserve to exist. Teeth clenched against a fresh wave of nausea, you breathe through anger and frustration and pain. Ask, don’t accuse. You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Why –why did you leave me after I got kidnapped?”

Unsurprisingly, Lin freezes again.

You can hear her swallow nervously. When she doesn’t speak, you decide to keep talking. “I needed you. I–I was so fucking scared, and hurt–” Your voice cracks as hot, stinging tears well up behind your closed eyelids. You press the heels of your hands against your eyes, trembling all over as you try to compose yourself. “Sorry. Just –give me a second.”

Lin says nothing, simply waiting in patient silence.

Outside, down in the street below, a Satomobile door thumps shut. The engine revs, then settles into a steady purr before fading away. The familiar rattle of the city tram breaks through the autumnal winds that rip off the harbor. The sound of the tram’s bell soars higher, sailing into the night air like asclepias puffs in the wind.

You flex your feet against the hardwood floors of Lin’s apartment. Pretty grain pattern, part of your brain notes inanely. Must’ve been expensive to refine and install. “Why did you leave me?” you whisper hoarsely, once you finally manage to scrape yourself together. You swipe at your face with the cuff of your sleeve; you hadn’t even managed to get undressed before everything went to shit. You clear your throat. “I… I don’t understand.”

For several long, tense moments, you think she might not answer at all. Then, Lin sighs. “I… I panicked.”

You watch Lin sharply, trying to read her often inscrutable expression and posture.

She walks away from you, over to the window in the living area that overlooks Republic City. She stares out at the night skyline –despite the sun having already set, the city glows from all the electric lights. She braces her hands against the white windowsill; she almost looks like a pensive, noir-style detective from the murder mystery radio shows you like so much.

You tuck your tongue in your cheek to keep from giggling hysterically.

“It was my fault.” She doesn’t look at you. “The nature of my job creates enemies.” She steps back from the windowsill; her hands curl into fists at her sides. “I should’ve known better. I do know better. And despite that, I didn’t keep you safe.”

“It’s not–” With a long, heavy sigh, you shake your head. “You can’t possibly predict every–”

“I did.” When you sputter disbelievingly, she faces you –but her gaze doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “The security on your building is shit. And you’d be a lot better off with platinum locks.”

After a moment of your best river carp impression, you manage to close your mouth and shake your head. “Lin…” You hold up one finger when she opens her mouth to argue. “That’s not the same thing as knowing that Kim was going to kidnap me.” When Lin’s unconvinced, pinched expression doesn’t lift, you sputter, flabbergasted. “Okay, look –Lin. Baby. If I don’t expect you to make sure every aspect of my life is safe, what good does it do to hold yourself to that kind of standard?”

“I still–”

“‘Still’ nothing, Lin! You’re not a fucking god! Okay, so you thought about my locks; that –that doesn’t obligate you to do anything,” you insist. Sweat beads along your back, soaking into your shirt. You sigh, then sweep your hair off the back of your neck to try and cool off. “As it so happens, I’m an adult; I’m ultimately responsible for myself, and that includes my own safety. Besides, it’s a nice enough neighborhood!”

Lin stares at you, flat and unimpressed. “Bad things happen anywhere.” Her jaw tightens. “You would know.”

You sputter, caught flat-footed by her audacity to use your own assault against you. “I –how fucking dare you!” You clench your hands into fists at your side, fingernails biting into the meat of your palm. “I am not –I cannot believe–” Sense takes hold before you cavalier too far down the road of rage and indignance; as angry as you are, you don’t want to spew vitriol all over Lin. Even if she’s kind of earned it. You glare at her, jaw locked tight. “Even if you have a logical point,” you spit out through clenched teeth, “the woman who skipped out on me after I was assaulted does not get to use that trauma against me in an argument!”

Lin’s lips press into a thin line. She looks at the floor, expression somewhat chastened. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

“Yes, yes it was. And thank you.” In a testament to your self-control –which, normally, you’d pass off as lacking at best–you inhale deeply and try to yank your temper back into some semblance of calm. Your head is starting to throb dully. So much for a relaxing night off. You rub your temples as you struggle to process and respond to Lin’s adamant self-blame. “I don’t –I don’t walk around with this notion that being your girlfriend comes with some sort of pass to perfect protection! I don’t expect you to package me up all nice and safe so nothing bad ever happens to me!” 

“I know–”

“Then what, in Yue’s name, is the fucking problem!” You fling your arms wide, voice rising as your frustration mounts again. “There are associated risks with living in the real fucking world, and I have never asked, or intoned, or suggested that you safeguard me from every bad thing that could ever happen! Why…” When your mind finally runs blank, anger petering out, you throw up your arms before letting them fall back to your sides. Your palms hit your thighs with a light slap. “What’s the point? What’s the point of putting yourself through all that, Lin?”

Lin scowls. She turns partly away and rakes one hand through her thick, curly hair. “It’s still my job.” She sighs harshly. “I know you don’t expect me to protect you.” She looks back over you, expression solemn. “I know. But it’s still my job. I don’t–” She presses her lips into a thin line, frustrated, then crosses her arms over her chest. “I believe in police work. I believe that doing my job keeps people safe. Even when I’m ‘off the clock,’ my duties to the people I care about don’t stop, and that includes keeping them safe.”

“Okay.” You nod along, choking back retort after retort through sheer force of will. It matters to her. It matters to her. It matters to her. “Okay.”

Lin fully turns away from you –but even without seeing her face, you can still tell she’s on edge. The line of her body is rigid as she stares out the window of her living room. She takes a deep, audible breath, shoulders rising and falling as she does. She clasps her hands behind her back and bows her head; for a moment, she looks exactly like the countless press release pictures of the indomitable Chief Beifong (which you may or may not have clipped out of the newspaper and tucked away for your own edification, you’ll claim the fifth if asked to testify, presumed innocent until proven guilty). “I didn’t know if we were going to be serious or not. It was more comfortable, for me, to keep you at arm’s length. And that included not making an issue of your building’s security problems.”

It stings, you can’t lie. Her confessed, deliberate indifference to your safety –when it’s apparently a big deal to her–hurts. You swallow hard, then tuck the inside of your cheek between your teeth to keep from firing back before she’s done talking. 

“It was my fault,” Lin states, voice flat and final. “After Kim… I couldn’t deal with it.” Finally, she turns and looks you in the eye. Her expression flickers for a moment, nearly giving way to anguish, before locking down to something more neutral with what you know to be an insurmountable, bone-deep reserve of will. “I’m sorry.” She stiffens, then frowns slowly when you start shaking your head. “What? What is it?”

“I–” Hot, stinging tears trace down your cheeks. Your palms are clammy, and your back is drenched in sweat. “That –thank you. Thank you for being honest. But–” You draw in a shaky breath as you try to school your thoughts into something more coherent. “I don’t –the locks wouldn’t have changed anything, Lin. They –no.” You hold up one finger and glare harshly at her when she opens her mouth to argue. “No. We both know that Kim had a very particular goal in mind. Better locks wouldn’t have stopped him. He would’ve had his goons just, I don’t know, kick in my door, or some shit.” You shrug, defeated, then rub your hands over your face. “I –I don’t care about the stupid locks. I get that it’s important to you, and that’s fine, but the locks don’t make a difference to me.” 

The locks wouldn’t have held your hand in the hospital, after all. The locks wouldn’t have talked to you on the phone after you woke up from yet another nightmare. The locks wouldn’t have rubbed salve into the rope burn on your wrists from where you’d chafed your skin trying to wriggle free. The locks–

Your face crumples, but you manage to keep going as you start crying. “I needed you.” Your whole body shudders as you draw in a shaky, broken breath. “I was so fucking scared, and hurt, and I didn’t know what was going to happen to me–”

Lin presses her lips together in a tight line, then holds her arms out to you.

You choke on a sob, then rush into her embrace. “I was so fucking scared!” You bury your face into her shirt, trembling as you weep. “I felt so lost, and small, and you just left me–”

Lin tucks your head beneath her chin. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It was cruel,” you insist, voice pitiful to your own ears. “And selfish.”

Lin draws in a shaky breath. “It was,” she agrees, her own voice wavering. She hugs you close, as though she can squeeze the pain and suffering right out of you. “I was wrong –and cruel, and selfish. I’m so, so sorry.”

Something inside you releases, like a locked muscle finally relaxing after a good, thorough healing session. You melt against her, hurt yielding to assurance and peace. A shaky exhale floats past your lips. “Thank you.”

…

Once you stop crying and settle into the post-panic attack-argument-meltdown, Lin disentangles from you and sequesters herself in the bathroom.

You can hear the sink tap running; if you felt up to it, you could probably extend your bending and feel the water swirling down the drain.

Exhaustion has you feeling hollowed out. You peel your shirt away from your skin with a grimace. The stress of the evening made you sweat. You try to adjust your underwear under your skirt. All of your clothes, frankly, feel uncomfortably, grossly stuck to your skin. This is not how I wanted to get wet tonight.

You drop down onto Lin’s couch gracelessly. You slump into the dark green cushions and close your eyes.

Your whole body feels raw. Your skin almost feels like you’ve been scraped along the pavement outside. Throbbing and tender, you shift restlessly, trying to find some position that will agree with you.

Outside, a Satomobile honks loudly, which is quickly followed by the sound of tires screeching.

Flinching, you curl forward and comb your fingers through your hair. Fuck me. Quickly, you flip on Lin’s radio, then let out a sigh when instrumental music starts droning through the speakers. You turn up the volume dial, just until the crushing feeling of overstimulation starts to abate. That’s better.

Eventually, Lin emerges from the bathroom. (It’s probably not very long, but your poor, fatigued brain has settled into the muddy state where time starts moving like molasses.) She heads straight for the kitchen and starts quietly puttering about; a few cabinet doors open and close, the tap for the sink runs briefly, and the range hisses as Lin lights it with match.

You borderline drowse as you half-watch her work, half-melt away into the syrupy ooze of reality.

Hours, maybe minutes later, Lin joins you at the couch. She sets down a tray with a fresh pot of tea and two cups onto the coffee table, then reaches over and turns the radio down. “Here.”

You force yourself into a more upright position and accept the cup of steaming, fragrant tea she holds out to you. “Thanks.”

Lin sets down next to you, and makes no protest when you immediately invade her space and curl up against her. She wraps one arm around your shoulders, then picks up her cup of tea with her free hand.

The tea is nice –no doubt some very expensive, well grown blend. You wish you could do more than sip tiredly at it, but your head feels heavy (probably from the swelling in your sinuses, on account of all the crying).

Distantly, the healer part of your brain starts noting all the facets of recovery after crying. Parasympathetic nervous system takes over. Brain releases endorphins. Muscles release tension from build up of stress. Autonomic nervous system reins in heart rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure.

“You alright?” Lin murmurs when you let out a shaky breath..

Nodding, you hum, then tip your head back and kiss her softly. Even though you’re tired, your head feels clearer. The consuming static of terror and rage have finally been swept out, leaving subdued peace and clarity.

Speaking of…

“Hey.” You crane your head back so you can see her face better. “If… if something happens to me again–” You pause when Lin grimaces and looks away. After waiting a moment, you press your fingers against her jaw and gently guide her head until she’s looking at you again. “If something happens to me again,” you repeat, “don’t… don’t push me away.” A lump rises in your throat, but you push past it. “I won’t ever be angry at you if something bad happens to me, okay? And it’s –it’s so much worse–” Your voice breaks; you have to take a moment to pull yourself together before you try speaking again. “It’s so much worse with you not around.”

Blinking rapidly, Lin nods. “Alright.” She looks away for a bit, gaze distant. She swallows hard, jaw rolling as she lets out a sigh, then asks, “Would you consider getting platinum locks?”

“They’re expensive.”

“Victim’s Assistance fund should pay for them, considering your apartment was broken into during the course of an abduction,” Lin fires back, almost like she’s reading the fine print straight from the page. “All you’d have to do is submit a request form and a copy of the police report to their office. And if they don’t pay for platinum locks, I will.”

Part of you wants to protest the notion of her paying for any of it. It’s your apartment and your responsibility. Feasibly, you could scope out some options, compare prices, and then allot the necessary savings into your monthly budget.

A quiet, wiser voice in your head whispers, ‘It’s okay to let her help you.’ “Would you feel better if I had platinum locks?”

Lin’s reply comes without hesitation. “Yes.”

You sweep your tongue along the back of your teeth; part of you chafes at the thought of acquiescing. You can take care of yourself, after all. You moved here on your own, put yourself through university and therapeutic certifications, built yourself up as a reputable and capable physical therapist and surgical assistant. While Lin’s compensated you for ruined clothes and the odd day when she’s worked you over enough that you needed to take a day or two off work, you’ve never needed –or expected–her to bankroll your life.

If the Victim’s Assistance Fund comes through, she won’t have to pay, you remind yourself. And it’s just one set of locks, and she’ll feel better knowing you’re safer.

That’s the clincher, in the end. Stubborn pride isn’t worth your girlfriend’s peace of mind –especially over something as non-invasive as a good set of locks.

You nestle back against the warmth and comfort of Lin’s embrace. “Alright. I’ll start figuring out the Victim’s Assistance fund stuff tomorrow.”

“I can give you the number for one of the department heads.”

“Okay,” you murmur, cheek squished against her shoulder. Part of you thinks it’s a little ridiculous –there’s no reason you can’t go through the same process as everyone else–but you’re too tired to argue (and, honestly, bypassing some of the formalities and traditional run-around will be nice). You sigh, then nuzzle against her and close your eyes. “I’m sorry for freaking out at you earlier. I know –I know you were just taking a moment to breathe, and you weren’t actually leaving me; I just –I was still so out of my head from the cuffs, and the panic attack, and I–”

“It’s okay.” Lin wraps one strong arm around your shoulders. “You were scared; it’s okay.” She kisses the top of your head, then squeezes you a little closer. “Stay here tonight. I’d rather you go home once you’ve had a chance to rest.”

You sniff, then nod. “Okay.” Melting into her embrace, you tuck your head into the crook of her neck. “That sounds nice. Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The radio croons on; the singer –a woman with a smooth, low voice–drawls on about the ocean and the land meeting as lovers. Down the hall, the gentle, intermittent rumble of the elevator interjects between the radio and the sounds of the city at no particular rhythm. Outside, the distant, waning sounds of Republic City’s nightlife echo into the air.

The two of you lapse back into comforting silence.

…

Once the two of you finish your tea, Lin tidies up before shepherding you to bed. 

You rinse off in the shower first. You worry about washing your hair, or anything too involved, but getting the sweat off your skin is essential if you don’t want to wake up irritable and itchy. 

Your stomach still feels shaky –no doubt from all the mucus and drainage from crying. You turn down the water to a comfortably cool temperature (helps with the inflammation), then mechanically work through the steps of washing up as quickly as you can.

You borrow Lin’s toothbrush (and, fine, it’s really not the grossest thing, especially since you’ve made a point of burying your face between her legs whenever she lets you), and she lends you another baggy, Republic City Police Academy shirt to sleep in.

The gray shirt feels exquisitely soft between your fingertips, against your skin. You tuck away the notion of “borrowing” it for future you to ponder.

It’s nice, slipping beneath the covers on Lin’s bed. Her sheets are luxuriously soft –no doubt a vastly higher thread count than what you can afford.

You stretch your legs like a polar bear pup. Something pops in your lower back, and you groan. “Ugh, finally.”

“You okay?”

“Cracked my back.” You wait for her to turn off the lamp, then cross the space between you and curl up against her side.

Lin obliges you by slipping her arm beneath your neck and winding it around your shoulders. Her fingertips slip beneath the collar of your shirt and stroke along the base of your neck. 

The familiar sounds of the city dwindle as the night drags on. The surrounding apartments are equally still. Here, in Lin’s bed, in her arms, you’re enveloped by safety. By warmth. Every breath you take is filled with the familiar scent of Lin –traces of the cologne she favors, the fresh mint of her toothpaste, even the fragrant tea you both had earlier. The blankets are cozy, exquisitely soft, and the perfect weight to help lull your frazzled mind and body into slumber.

Just for a moment, right before you drop off into sleep, your body relaxes into a state of perfect contentment. It’s almost like you’re floating, perfectly supported and enveloped, much like floating in a pool for a moment of rest before swimming again. Tranquility seeps through your veins, washing away any remaining tension and panic from earlier in the evening.

You fall asleep to the gentle thumping of Lin’s heart and her steady, deep breathing.

[sysig]

“It could be that the loss of her children drove the Queen deeper into her darker desires...but, I don’t believe she was fighting against them that hard before that particular tragedy. No monster does.” (Patreon)

Bonus:

Hmm, wonder what he could cover those holes with :3c

[nomoreusername]

Heartbeat

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary:As you die in Aris's arms your love story plays in his head.

She was beautiful. So very beautiful. With hair that framed her already angelic face and eyes that could light up the night sky, it was always impossible to pull my gaze away from her. With her soft skin that always gave me this warmth that could only come from her hand and gentle lips that gave such gentle kisses, she was too captivating to be human.

And with bags under those bright eyes, they were turning dark. Her taken care of and perfectly done hair was now a tangled mess with knots every other section. Her skin was cut up, dried blood permanently staining it. Her lips were cracked, blood naturally flowing.

She was losing warmth. And with each second she was also losing life.

"It's okay. It's okay. It's all okay,"I soothed, holding her close as she had tears streaming down her face and blood pouring from her waist, the bullet still doing everything to stop her heartbeat.

I couldn't try and remove it. That would be the final straw. That would make it too late.

Pressing my shirt a little tighter on the wound, I repeated my words as she kept her arms around my shoulder while I kept her on my lap. With those tears turning to quiet, slow breaths, she dug her nails into my skin to keep herself in my hold.

"It's okay. It's alright,"I whispered, completely tying my old shirt around her waist before carefully rocking her back and forth. Running my fingers through her hair, I pressed my lips to her temple as she held on to me.

"You need to go with the others,"She pointed out, reminding me that while the others were safe, we were here in the destroyed WCKD facility.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Don't worry about it,"I repeated, putting my hand behind her head as she rested on my shoulder.

"It's cold,"She said through quiet breaths.

"It's okay. It's alright,"I coaxed, taking my jacket off while keeping her close. Wrapping it around her with one hand, I didn't let her fall asleep as I rubbed my hand up her arm while she shivered.

"Aris?"She whispered.

"Yes, angel?"I asked, only to immediately regret my words. Taking a breath, I pretended I hadn't said it just like I pretended there was no way we wouldn't have a happy ending.

"It's okay now. I'm okay."

"What?"I choked out.

"I'm okay. I'm fine,"She lied.

"No, that's not-no. You can make it,"I said firmly. "If we find something. Or I can go out and get help. I'll get help and you stay here. I'll make it okay, and-and-"

"Aris,"She said with such strength there was no way she could be bleeding out.

She was though.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

"Nobody's around here for miles. You know that."

"But they might be. If I can just-"

"Aris,"She cut me off, her hands pressing against my cheeks as she looked at me. Wearing a small smile, she closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against mine. With our noses just barely touching and her dying breath against my lips, I felt something inside of me break as it all became too real.

We were back at the Spring, in our hut, sleeping together in the same small cot. She's laying on her side as I hug her from behind. With my arms around her stomach, I press kisses to her bare skin, taking my time with each and every one until she wakes up. Her hands trace shapes down my arms until she kisses my fingertips. She turns around and smiles as she plays with my hair. I kiss her forehead when it's finally time to get up despite the way I know she's going to make me stay a little longer. She'll hug me and bury her face in my chest while mumbling that she didn't want to get up yet. I give in and lay with her for five minutes, rubbing circles on her back until it's time to start the day.

We dress on other sides of the room, our backs turned until we've confirmed that we're ready to go. Her outfit is simple as always, but she makes it seem like it's handmade only for her. I tell her she looks beautiful no matter what she's wearing. She rolls her eyes until I make her face the mirror. I don't let her look away until she believes it.

I eat breakfast beside her. We don't hold hands. We don't kiss. We just sit there with Natalie and Melissa, quietly talking until that meal is over.

We head to the Med-hut. We don't get a patient for at least until lunch. We're also the only two there since nobody else seems to want to do it. They all favor being Builders and Track-hoes. Plus, the one we got two weeks ago fainted when a Skater broke her leg.

We organize the supplies again. We disinfect everything. We end up getting bored. I sit on the ground and she lays her head on my shoulder as I read to her. She stops me every now and then to make me annotate the book. I do it without question. By the time we've finished there's still nobody there. She doodles random things. I watch over her shoulder. She says she needs to save paper. I let her draw on my arm. She makes flowers and stars and planets and writes our initials inside one of the several hearts. I ask if I can draw something. She agrees. I take her hand and write mine on the back of it before kissing it. She makes a joke about me being possessive. I promise that it's just because I'm thankful she loves me too. She swears she'll somehow get it tattooed one day. I tell her she can do whatever she wants, and I'll love her all the same.

Someone finally comes in before lunch. Then another person. A Blondie and a Cook. She helps Blondie because she's better with them. She'll make small talk as I help my patient in silence, only asking basic questions. By the time I'm finished, she's still talking to Blondie despite having healed her. I say bye to the Cook before watching them. She reassures her it'll be okay. Blondie ends up asking about the writing. Her smile grows as she glances at me. Blondie understands. They talk more before she leaves.

Lunch is the same as breakfast. There's nothing wrong with that. We like it that way. By now Natalie and Melissa are more awake. We talk a little more, a little louder. We don't go into anything major. It's lighthearted and enjoyable enough.

We go back to the Med-hut when it's over. We disinfect everything. We reorganize. We know our only chance of someone else is a Skater. She lays on the ground and complains about being bored. I lay beside her as she says she just wishes there were more people to help. I wish I had that kind of selflessness. I like this job because I'm good at it. Not because of what I do. She asks what's wrong. I tell her nothing because nothing is. I just admire her. I just wish I could be more like her. She knows something is up. She lightly kicks my shin until I do the same. She takes my hand and turns on her side. She plays with my fingers, getting lost in the meaningless activity. Her touch kind of tickles. I don't tell her that. I just watch her fidget with my hand until she kisses my palm and sets it down. She looks up at me to see me smiling, and she does the same. She runs her hands through my hair and tells me she wants me to grow it out so she can braid it. I promise to let it get just long enough to make mini ones. She likes the idea. It makes her happy so it makes me happy.

We go to Blondie night for a bit. We don't watch the fights. We sit with Sonya and Anne. Harriet's too busy watching over everything. We all talk. We know these girls better so I feel comfortable holding her hand. Plus, it's dark so it's hard to tell. I'm proud to have her, but I don't want anyone to see how much. She feels the same. I know for sure because I once asked if it hurts her feelings that I don't really touch her in public. She looked surprised and said no. I like that we're so in synch. She does too. Nobody was there right then so I kissed her. She kissed back before we went to sleep. That's how I know it's fine that all I do is hold her hand. I don't even think about it. I just feel more comfortable when I do without even realizing why.

We're not tired, but I can feel my social battery going down. I don't say anything, but she knows because I'm zoning out a little bit. She says she's tired and wants to go to sleep. She always makes an excuse like that when I need to leave. I play along. We say bye and promise to talk to them later.

I feel bad when we get home. I apologize for getting like that again and promise she doesn't have to leave for me. She tells me to stop thinking like that as we turn around and get dressed. I tell her that she's too good for me. She goes quiet. She looks sad. I don't want her to be sad. I tell her that I love her. She says she loves me more than I understand and that she wishes I could just accept that I come first to her. I tell her that she's the first choice for me too. She looks happy again. It makes me smile when she's happy. She likes it when I'm happy.

She kisses me. I don't hesitate to kiss back. She's the one who deepens it. She's always been bold, and that won't stop today. She lets me lay on top of her. The kiss has so much love but no innocence. No lust either. Just the craving of our lips, the hunger that can only be solved like this, finally being filled. Neither of us want to stop. We want more. I think about kissing her neck. I decide not to. I don't want to go too far. I pull away when her breathing gets heavy. She understands. She still isn't quite satisfied, but she knows I'm not ready yet. I promise we'll do more soon. She tells me she doesn't care as long as I love her. I do. I tell her that. She smiles and hugs me.

We get back in our sleeping positions. I can feel her shiver despite the blanket. I offer one of my hoodies. She says it'll be too hot later, but she will definitely accept that tomorrow. I wrap my arms around her. I keep her warm with my body. She leans close to me. She hums a song I don't know but love anyway. I whisper sweet nothing's in her ear as I wrap my arm around her stomach. She tenses up. She still doesn't see all of her beauty. I list all the things I love about her. When we get past the twenties, she relaxes. I silently plead that she'll know the truth forever this time. I have hope that she will, but I know it probably won't be tomorrow. That's alright though, because as far as we're concerned, we have forever to be together.

"Please don't leave until you're sure I'm gone? I don't want to die alone,"She whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks, mixing with mine as we stayed closer than we ever have.

"I could never leave you,"I promised.

"You know what this means, right?"

"No. I don't."

"I'm the better Med-jack,"She almost laughed before taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry,"I promised.

"Guess you should have taken me that week ago, huh?"

"You seem too happy right now."

"I am. I'm always happy when I'm with you. Even if it's for my last moments, I can never not be so in love."

As her smile started fading, I knew she didn't have long. She had never had long to begin with, but time was completely up. There was no saving her. There was no fixing this.

Brushing my lips against hers, I mumbled I love you's as I kissed her. Knowing it was our last one, I didn't stop. I didn't know how. I just knew that as long as I kiss her she'd be breathing. Because that's how it works. That's how deep our love runs so it can keep her alive. I know it, I swear it, so as long as I don't stop she'll stay breathing.

Doing what I had never done before, I put my hand behind her head as I deepened, ignoring the tears flooding down my closed eyes as I did. And I felt her tears on my skin, mixing with mine until I could taste it in our mouths. Ours. Ours. Ours. Because this moment it ours, this life is ours, and everything is fine.

But I needed to breathe. I needed to breathe, but my heart told me that she needed me to kiss her for her to breathe. So I did, and she kissed back, and we cried, and I kept saying I love you until I was sure the words were burned on our lips. And I want them to be. It's close enough to the tattoo she wanted, and I'll have the same one.

But I couldn't breathe. I needed air so I pulled away, panting as I took in all that I could.

Looking down, my already grieving mind cleared I saw how greedy I had been with it. Because she wasn't moving. Her eyes were completely shut as she laid still.

Laying her down, I listened for her heartbeat. If it was there, my heart would break because she was still in pain. If it wasn't, my heart would break because I would never have her.

Silence. There was nothing but silence. Not a sound from out there, not a sound in here, not a sound from her.

She's dead then. She's gone.

Untying my shirt from her waist, I brushed hers out as if she had to be neat to go somewhere. Taking my jacket, I carefully placed her arms inside before remembering that she gets too hot. Taking if back off, I laid it over her like a blanket before lying next to her.

Brushing her hair out, I looked at her as every moment flashed before my eyes.

~ ~ ~

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't run!"the girl repeated as I tried to get out of here. With my hand on the doorknob, I stared at her as she wore a gentle smile despite the firmness in her words.

"Where am I?"I got out.

"I'll tell you if you sit down,"She bargained, sitting on the bed.

This is dangerous. I don't know where am I. I don't even know-

"Who am I?"

"I'll explain. Just sit down, okay?"

Taking slow steps, I almost found myself on autopilot as I sat on the other side of the bed.

"You can come closer. I won't hurt you,"She promised. Looking at the ground, I slowly did so until I was about an inch away.

"Do you know who I am?"I quietly repeated.

"No, but nobody does. When every single one of us came up, none of us knew anything about us. We never do, but in a day or two you should get your name back."

"How many people are there?"

"Twelve, and you make thirteen."

"Okay,"I nodded, fiddling with my thumbs as I didn't look up.

"Do you want to know anything else?"

"Is everyone nice?"

"Well,"She trailed off.

"Well what?"

"Yes, but you're the only boy."

"The only boy?"

"Yeah."

"So everyone else is a girl?"

"Yep."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Like I said though. They're usually nice. It's just that people are a bit on edge. None of us even remember boys so it's a very unexpected experience."

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"I-I don't even know,"I admitted.

"You didn't do anything wrong so don't be. It's going to be fine, okay? We're friends now."

"Can I know your name?"I asked, looking at her for the first time just for my breath to get caught in my throat.

She was pretty. No. Not just pretty.

She was beautiful. Her eyes matched her jacket, making their already bright color pop. Her hair was pushed out of her face with a pencil stuck behind her ear. There was this slight tint over her lips, the kind you get from chapstick.

"It's Vaseline. I always keep some because of the cold."

"Huh?"

"I just put on Vaseline. It's always cold so it's the only way my lips won't chap."

"Oh,"I muttered, feeling my face burn as I realized I had been staring.

"So any more questions you can think of?"

"No,"I responded, fiddling with my sleeves as I felt nothing but embarrassment. So much for good first impressions.

~ ~ ~

I don't like the way the Blondies look at me. With either distrust, intense curiosity, or a not so friendly glint in their eyes. It made me nervous.

"You coming to Blondie night?"Y/N asked, nudging my leg.

"I am at Blondie night,"I technically pointed out.

"I meant why aren't you down there with everything?"She clarified, gesturing to everyone at the fire under us as we sat on the surprisingly sturdy Watch Tower.

"I don't want to be,"I said simply. "Why aren't you down there?"

"Because you're here. Not there,"She shrugged. Staring at the ground, I ignored the way my face warmed.

"It's nice up here,"I whispered, glancing up at the stars.

"Yeah. It is,"She agreed, hooking her ankle with mine as she moved closer. Looking at her as she rested her head on my shoulder, I held my breath as she seemed close to sleeping. After a moment of internal debate, I wrapped my arm around her, tracing my fingers up her arms.

"Aris?"She whispered.

"Yes?"

"I'm really happy you're here. No matter what anyone says, you're the best thing that's ever happened to this hellhole,"She admitted, glancing up at me. Looking back at the girl that still caught me off guard no matter how many chances I had to admire her, I felt my heart race as I moved just a little closer. Doing the same, there was something different in her eyes. Not that I knew for long as I glanced down at her lips. The ones that still looked so soft. The ones that I was sure would fit perfectly with mine.

When I tried to meet her gaze again I saw her staring at mine, this emotion in her eyes that I had never seen before. It made them seem so much brighter, more full of life than they ever had been.

As I was about to close my eyes and finally, finally, finally kiss her, loud cheering from below made us pull away. Staring at the ground, we saw it was just some of the girls celebrating their fight ring.

Are you kidding me right now? Are you serious? That's when it has to end? Not when we were actually kissing?

"I'm uh, gonna go to bed,"She mumbled.

"Yeah. Yeah, goodnight,"I muttered, not meeting her eyes.

"Are you coming down?"

"No. I'm gonna stay a little longer."

And hate the way I'm ridiculously in love with you, but who cares?

"I'll see you in the morning then."

"Yeah. See-"

I was cut off as she kissed my cheek before climbing down the ladder before I could react. Staring at the ground, I saw her sprint to her tent as if she had something to run from.

Putting a hand to my cheek, I tried to take it in. She kissed me. She really kissed me. I had never been kissed before, but she just kissed me.

She kissed me, she kissed me, she kissed me.

I am not going to sleep tonight. Not when I swear I can still feel her lips on my skin.

~ ~ ~

I was tired. I was sick of it. I just wanted it to end. All of it.

I know I had to go to work. I know I can't just not show up, but I was tired. I was really tired.

One year. I had been here for a year and people still didn't trust me. They would still look at me with such hatred.

I tried to tell myself it didn't bother me. I tried to tell myself it didn't matter, but it does. It really, really does.

I wanted to move. I wanted to get up, but I couldn't. It was like there was an actual weight on my body, forcing me to stay in bed and think about the way I have only five real friends, three of which I rarely see.

I didn't want anyone to notice. I didn't expect anyone to care, and they didn't. That was exactly what I wanted and expected.

So why did it still hurt me so much I could feel it crush my soul?

"Knock knock,"a familiar voice called from outside my hut. Not really wanting to answer despite the way all I wanted was her, I pulled the covers over me as I kept my knees to my chest, hugging myself while holding back tears.

"Aris, are you okay?"She asked, her voice as gentle as when I met her, if not more.

I didn't answer. I wouldn't. Something was in my throat, not letting me speak.

"I'm coming in,"She said firmly, opening my door. Not bothering to look at her, I listened to her shut it before walking over to my bed. After a moment she sat on the edge of the cot, rubbing circles on my back with her hand. "I know you're awake,"She sighed. Still not moving, I kept my eyes closed to stop the tears. "I tried to see you earlier, but Harriet said I had to stay. I'm here now though, for anything you need."

"No,"I whispered, taking a shaky breath.

"No? What do you mean no?"

"Go away,"I demanded in a weak voice.

"No,"She said simply.

"Go away. I don't want you here."

"Aris-"

"I told you to leave! Go! Get the hell out of here!"I yelled, choking on sobs.

"Oh Aris,"She whispered, pulling the blanket from my face. Holding my face in her hands, she wiped my tears as I sobbed. "I don't want you to be alone right now. You're too upset, okay?"

"That should make you want to leave even more,"I pointed out.

"Not for you. You look lonely. You have for so long."

"It doesn't matter what I feel,"I uttered, crying so hard my chest hurts. Despite that, she kept taking my tears away, looking at me with an undeniable sadness in her eyes.

"What do you really need?"

"It doesn't matter. Nobody needs me. Nobody wants me here,"I whispered, pulling away.

"Excuse me?"She asked quickly, this hint of anger in her voice.

"Nobody needs me. No-"

"Oh hell no. Don't you dare talk like that."

"Why? Why does it matter? It's true. Nobody wants me here. Maybe I should just-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"You don't get it! You don't understand! Nobody understands!"

"No. I don't understand what it's like being the only boy, but I know what it's like. To have something pushing on your chest until you can't breathe. To want to do something but not even be able to move. To be so tired no matter how much you sleep. I know exactly what that's like, and I won't let you repeat my mistake."

"Your mistake?"I whispered, sitting up for the first time all day and staring at her.

"You'll regret it. When you fall or bleed or whatever, you will regret it. You'll realize how much you actually want to live. You'll panic and hurt and nothing will be solved. I will not let you feel that. Do you understand? I won't let it get that far, no matter what I have to do."

"You-you know?"

"It doesn't matter. I won't let you feel that. Even if I have to be by your side forever."

"Why would you want that? Why would you care that much?"

"Because,"She whispered, sitting in front of me and putting her hand on my knee, "I need you. I want you. You do more than you could ever know. You are worth so much, and I would never give up on you. You're too important, too special, too kind. Even if nobody else sees it, I do. I see it, and I need you here."

"I don't know how to be okay,"I admitted. Pulling me close, she wrapped her arms around me as I cried into her shirt. Burying her face in my neck, she put her hand behind my head as she kept pressing small, quick kisses to my neck. Not the romantic kind. The kind of kisses that held so much love that words couldn't describe. The kind of kisses that brought this sort of comfort I didn't quite understand. The kind of kisses that made her words so much more truthful.

"I'm tired. I've been tired for so long,"I whispered as my tears stopped.

"Come on. It's time for bed,"She lied. Pretending not to notice the sun just barely shining through the crack in my door, I laid under the covers with her still keeping me close. Running her hands through my hair, she hummed to me as I closed my eyes.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"What if I wanted to sleep like this every night? With you by my side?"

"Then all you have to do is look at me that way only you can, and I'll know,"She said simply.

I wasn't sure of that. If only glance would let her read my mind, but I was sure I would find out soon.

~ ~ ~

I was falling for her more and more every day. I was completely in love with her. That was undeniable.

We slept beside each other every single night. We woke up beside each other every single morning. We spent every Blondie night together, either hiding from everyone to talk or look at the stars in silence (which was her looking at the sky and me looking at her) or with a few friends. I was an open book to her, and by now I knew everything there was to know about Y/N.

I know I should doubt it, but I don't. She feels the same. We don't say it, but we know. We both know we aren't cuddling in the sheets because she's cold. We both know she doesn't just wear my clothes because she thinks my hoodies look nice on her. We both know her neck kisses that are lasting longer are starting to be more than just comfort. We both know the I love you's aren't platonic.

We just don't say it. We both feel it, we both know the other does, but we don't bring it up. For some reason, we decided this was better.

She was just a little shorter than me. Not by much, but she was. Just enough to where I would sometimes get things from the top shelf for her.

I already knew what she was reaching for. The sketchbook that had ended up on said top shelf somehow.

I didn't mean to. Honestly. I didn't realize I would catch her off guard, but as I leaned over her to get it down she turned around to face me. From the way her face was a light pink, it was an obvious accident.

I don't know why this moment was different. It wasn't that we were alone. We're alone all the time. It wasn't that emotions were heavy. We had both had enough of that late at night. It wasn't even like we were touching the way we do but pretend we aren't when we're alone.

This was different though. Something about the built up love was tired of being held back. We wanted more. It wasn't like we were even close to friends with benefits but friends with unspoken love was exhausting.

She was the bold one, but I still expected it. I expected the way she put her arms around my shoulders and kissed me. I expected to find myself kissing back, keeping my lips to hers while wrapping my arms around her waist, pressing her body to mine. Putting her hand behind my head the way she did when we pretended to be stupid to it, she deepened it, taking me from her soft lips to her sweet taste.

Unfortunately, we needed to breathe. Even though all I wanted right now was to keep kissing her while somehow also wanting to just hold her hand and talk, we had to pull apart for air.

Keeping her forehead against mine, I could feel her shaky breaths against my lips as the sound of heavy breathing filled the air. I hate oxygen. I hate it so much. I hate that I can't live off of just her.

We'd live together and die together.

"I love you,"She whispered, saying what we already knew.

"I love you too. Forever and always,"I promised. Watching the way it made her smile, I said it again just to see her do it again.

She did.

~ ~ ~

She was sick. Seriously sick. Up and down fever, not eating, throwing up sick.

I stayed with her. One day without someone to help the slightly injured was fine. My girl was actually sick, and I was going to take care of her.

"I'm sorry,"She repeated, glancing at the hoodie she had first thrown up on in the corners of my room to be washed later.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it,"I reassured her.

"Are you sure you don't want your other one back?"

"Keep it forever. Okay?"I told her, rubbing her back.

"You're going to get sick."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine,"I promised. As she went to say something else she leaned over the bed. Holding her hair back, I kept it out of her face as she threw up in the bucket. Spotting a small strand, I pulled it back and into my hand as I rubbed her shoulder.

"This sucks,"She muttered as she was done. Handing her her water, I made sure she drank a good amount before letting her give it back.

"I know, lovely. I know."

"You don't have to stay with me, you know? I'm not exactly in a good-"

Cutting her off, proving I would rather be taking care of her than with anyone else, I cupped her face as I kissed her temple. Hearing her sigh, I pulled away to see this glimmer in her eyes despite the bags under them.

"What's on your mind?"

"You'll be a really good dad one day."

"Oh,"I got out as my entire face heated up.

"Just to be clear, I'm the mom."

"Yeah. Yeah. I got that part. I just didn't know you wanted a family too."

"With you, yes. Yes I do. Plus, it makes you blush which makes me happy."

"Well, I like it when you're happy,"I smiled, pushing some of her hair back. "And when you're not sick. Come on. Get back to sleep."

"Maybe I'm actually pregnant,"She shrugged, laying beside me.

"That's not, no. Not possible,"I pointed out.

"I know. Just watching you blush again."

"Go to bed."

"What if I was though?"

"Y/N, bed,"I repeated. Rolling her eyes, she tried to stay on the edge. "Quit worrying about me,"I said one too many times as I pulled her to my chest. Wrapping my arms around her, I listened as her breathing evened out until she fell asleep in my arms.

~ ~ ~

She was mad at me. She's never been mad at me before so I didn't know what to do. She didn't even sleep in the same bed for two days now.

"I'm sorry,"I blurted out as I saw her at the Med-hut, sitting at her spot.

"Whatever,"She shrugged, not meeting my gaze.

"Y/N-"

"You hurt me, Aris. That really stung."

"I didn't mean to. I would never want to hurt you,"I swore.

"Well, you did. You did, and you didn't even care."

"I do care, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"What you said was cruel. It doesn't matter that you weren't sober. You were completely hateful. Do you know what that feels like? To hear the person that saved you say they don't even like what you do."

"I didn't mean it like that. I love you more than anything, and I'm sorry I lied like that."

"You told me you wish I never had to put up with you. You told me that you hate how I pretend to care about you. You told me that I should just leave you now since you'll ruin us eventually. You told me if there was someone better than you wouldn't mind leaving so I can have someone I actually want. You told me that I was just bringing myself down by being with you. You said all these things like it's facts. You made me sound like a fake and that you were lost again and I didn't care to help. Not to mention, that's only what you remember. I sure as hell remember though,"She scowled, wiping her eyes as tears fell.

"Y/N, lovely, angel,"I whispered, kneeling in front of her. Putting her hand in mine, I kissed the back of it before looking up at her, "I love you. I do, and it all came out wrong. I know you love me too, but I just thought about how much better you could do. You have my heart, and I have yours, and I'm sorry I made you think otherwise."

"I know you love me, but I don't know where that's coming from. There will never be anyone better than you. So stop thinking like that. Stop thinking about impossible what if's and think about right now. Please?"She asked, looking at me.

Despite the way her eyes were red and her face was puffy and I felt awful for being the reason, she was still the most beautiful girl to exist. She still has this contagious smile and even better laugh. She gave the most amazing hugs and knew the exact words. She was perfect, and she saw something in me. And I trust her judgment more than anyone's.

"I promise."

~ ~ ~

She was a good kisser. She had me absolutely addicted to her, as if her lips were a drug that I could never not give in to. She was just addicting in general. Not in the sense where I got a nervous rush. In a way that everything only made sense with her.

She was usually very gentle, but she could be so different without even realizing.

Pushing her lips against mine, she stayed on top of me. Just as I got a taste of her she traveled down my jaw, leaving marks on my skin. With her hands on my stomach, she came to the collar of my shirt.

"I want more,"She whispered against my skin. Tensing up at the new words, I held my breath as I tried to think of what to say.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to,"She trailed off.

"I want more too. I do but not yet. Not right now."

"I understand,"She said, smiling as she looked up at me. Laying down, she kept her ear by my chest. She said she liked listening to my heartbeat, that it made her feel safe and loved. That she liked knowing I was alive with her. I told her my heart beats for her alone, and that led to this being her favorite sleeping position the way she said my heartbeat was her favorite melody.

~ ~ ~

I was happier than I ever had been. I was absolutely over the moon.

Running to her, I picked her up in my arms and spun her around. Letting out the most genuine laugh to exist, she held my shoulders until I let her back on the ground.

"We're getting out. We're actually getting out,"She repeated.

"I know. We're going to be free. We're finally going to be free,"I grinned, wiping a tear as I kept my eyes on her.

"We'll get to do everything we talked about. We're actually going to be together forever and start a family. We'll do everything we dreamed of,"She whispered, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her ear against my chest, taking a breath as she heard my heartbeat.

"I know. We're going to have everything. We're going to have it all,"I whispered back, kissing her forehead while closing my eyes to fully feel her embrace.

"I'll protect you out there. I'll keep you safe,"She muttered.

"I won't need protecting. Okay? Just let my worry about you and you worry about yourself."

"I'm not going to do that, but nice try."

"Y/N-"

"Aris,"She cut me off in a teasing voice. Rolling my eyes, I sighed as I kept her close, wondering how I could get so lucky.

I would have it all. I would have her and freedom and our dreams. It was all going to be okay.

~ ~ ~

"No! No! No! This isn't how it's supposed to be!"I cried, curling up to my beautiful angel's side. Holding her, I kept telling her that I was more sorry for this than anything I had done. That I would take it all back if she could be alive. That I would never have met her if it meant she got to live the life she deserved. That I would have taken the bullet since it was meant for me. That if I knew she would actually die for me I would have moved out of the way faster.

"I love you. I could never not love you. I will never love anyone else. I will never even look at anyone else. Like I said I would, my heart will only belong to you,"I whispered, putting my head by her chest. As I was met with more silence I understood why she was always listening to mine.

Because one day she wouldn't be able to.

It just wasn't supposed to be because she would never open her eyes again.

[selfshippinglover]

Vent ignore

[layzeal]

currently thinking about a lan wangji years and years into his journey of healing

like 7, 10 years after the first siege. a lwj who's mostly moved on from the pain and regret and whose grief has now made a place in a little corner of his heart, and for the most part, he doesn't really think about it. maybe he'll even go months without thinking of wei ying, until he finds someone selling ugly yllz portraits, or a child telling scary stories about the devil wei wuxian. but sometimes it's also in a very specific way that sizhui laughs or enunciates a word that almost sounds like wei ying talking. sometimes it's passing by an abandoned flower spirit garden, or a lotus lake, or watching young cultivators hunt water ghouls.

these moments that can be so few and far between, and they... stir a little, some even sting. but they don't hurt anymore. he carries them with him, and he moves on

[thebutchprinxe]

i have been ! thrown off my rhythm !

[glowingsand]

normal about 236 now. anyway imagine if the characters were emotionally attached to each other the way i am to them

[crookedfivefingers]

Me: Why aren’t there so many more TenMartha shag-or-dies? Let’s write a simple one!

Me, later: Let’s base it on Ten being required to bring Martha to orgasm X amount of times in X amount of ways

Me, several thousand words into new fic whilst actively ovulating: Let’s make Martha a virgin+have Ten be super empathetic and gentle about it because they’re best mates/he knows she fancies him/he wants her to be comfortable+enjoy herself as much as she can

Me, falling apart: Over and above all of that, let’s channel obscene amounts of energy into ensuring it’s in character/realistic/feels like an actual [NC-17] episode

[bones-n-pumpking-ask]

dooodleeees (not the old ones this time)

it's nooot bad-end au stuff yet but who doesn't like some bones angst am i right haha am i right

UPD: he got in a bad fight w spirit hunters in the 3d one

[soldier--poet--queen]

what came first, the body dysphoria flare up or the internet deciding now was a fantastsic time to show me transmasc content

[midwestblue]

I think (as much as I annoyingly complain and whine about not having a partner) being single this long has been good for me. I'm learning a lot about myself and I'm learning why I was a shit person, and through finding the root of the problem I can kind of... start to heal. I can be nicer to myself so I can grow and get better. Because TBH.. being mean and cruel to yourself doesn't make you become a better person. It just makes you believe that thats what you /are,/ and thats what you /always will be,/ as opposed to realizing that you are a product of your circumstances but that does not mean you can't get better and become a better person. Accepting help and trying to get better so you can eventually love yourself – even if no one else does – is the greatest and loveliest thing you can do for yourself. You deserve that love, you exist and you live and you feel and that is a truly beautiful gift.

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[celestialmancer]

⛈️ ❌ ❌ ❌ // 2:09 am, tbd ;

[uzurakis]

hii! could you please do like after a really big argument it like gets to the point that the reader wants to break up with then and how they would handle it? i just request that choso is one of them<3

WANT US TO BREAK UP, YOU SAY?

featuring: choso kamo. gojo satoru. nanami kento. fushiguro megumi.

n. hi nonnie! thanku for the req. i usually don't write for choso, this is the first time i'm writing for him, i hope it doesn't stray out of his character. confession: i didnt proofread so.. enjoy </3

GOJO SATORU

the room was heavy with silence after your heated argument. you stood near the desk, arms crossed, emotions swirling. as for him, gojo leaned against the wall, his sunglasses off, revealing eyes that bore into you with a mix of frustration.

"this isn't working, satoru," you fidgeted your nails and shifted your feet. "i think we should break up."

he pushed off the wall, taking a step closer to you. "hell no," he said firmly, those blue eyes you know so well never leaving yours. "i'm not letting that happen."

you clenched your fists, anger and hurt bubbling to the surface. "you can't just decide that for me. we’ve been fighting constantly, and it’s exhausting.”

the man crossed the room in a few quick strides, stopping just in front of you. "we're not breaking up," he repeated, voice low and steady. "you're upset, i'm mad, and we had a fight, but that doesn't mean we break up."

tears welled up in your eyes as you met his gaze. "you don't get it, satoru. i can't keep doing this.”

he reached out, his hand gently but firmly grasping your wrist. "you’re not leaving," he said, his tone softening but still commanding. "we can fix this. together."

you tried to pull away, but his grip held you in place. "toru, this isn't just about one fight.” then his grip changed into him interlocking his fingers with you. “we keep hurting each other…”

his expression softened, but his grip remained steady. "i know, and i'm sorry, darling. but running away won't solve anything. i love you, and i'm willing to fight for us."

NANAMI KENTO

nanami’s expression remained calm, but you could see the tension in his eyes. he took a deep breath and walked over to you, his movements slow and deliberate. “please, sit down,” he said softly, gesturing to the couch. “we need to talk about this calmly.”

you hesitated, still seething with emotion, but his gentle tone made you relent. you sat down, crossing your arms defensively. nanami sat beside you, maintaining a respectful distance but close enough to show he was there for you.

“why do you want to break up?” he asked, his voice steady and soothing.

“like i said,” stating once again. unlike his, your voice cracked. “i feel like we don't have time for each other, not like we used to.”

he nodded, listening intently. “i understand,” he said, his tone even. “but breaking up isn’t the solution, sweetheart. we need to address it.”

nanami reached out, taking your hand in his. his touch was warm and reassuring. “every relationship has its challenges,” he said gently. “what matters is how we handle them. i believe we can work through this if we’re both willing to try.”

CHOSO KAMO

his eyes widened in shock, and before you could react, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you. his embrace was firm yet gentle, a stark contrast to the turmoil in your heart. “please, don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. “you can’t just say that, baby.”

you struggled against his hold, tears streaming down your face. “choso, don’t hold me back..”

he held you tighter, saying soothing words despite the urgency. “i know it’s been hard for both of us, but never say that, i don't want to hear you say that again.”

feeling the warmth and genuineness of his embrace, you drew in a shaky breath and found yourself losing resolve. “i just, i don’t know what to do with us.” your voice breaking.

choso loosened his hold just enough to meet your gaze, his love and concern visible in his eyes. “every relationship has its struggles, but i'm sure we both can overcome them. i love you, and i’m committed to working through this with you. so please, i dont want to give up on us yet."

he gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. “i’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. are you?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

your boyfriend’s shocked eyes became wider. “what? no!” he took a step forward, expressing a mix of disbelief and urgency. “that’s not how you solve this problem.”

with a hand raked through his hair, he was clearly frustrated. "i understand that we've been fighting a lot, but splitting up isn't the answer. we have to discuss our concerns and work towards–”

“i’m fucking trying, okay?” you hurried to cut his explanation. “you always have a logical answer for everything,” biting your lower lip, is he seeing that you don't need reasoned answers? but simply, perhaps some reassurance? “but it doesn’t change how i feel. it hurts, and i don’t see a way out of this.”

megumi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “i’m sorry.”

“…”

“look, i need you to hear me,”

“i don’t want to fight either, heck, i’m too tired to argue,” he gently pulled you into an embrace. “but i don’t want to lose you. i can't promise you, but we can find a way to make this better."

"let’s be patient and work through our problems one step at a time.”

@uzurakis

[fvsm4x]

#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru]

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , dark themes , slightly geto suguru x female reader , no curses au.

— WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

NEXT

„I think we should break up.“

Gojo’s words hung in the air, as he looked into your eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. You desperately tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show Gojo just how deeply his words had wounded you.

“Why? What happened?“ You managed to ask, your voice trembling.

Gojo’s gaze softened, but his eyes held a distant look, as if his mind was already elsewhere. “I’ve found someone else,” he admitted, his words like a dagger to your fragile heart.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfed your thoughts. Insecurity, confusion, and a deep sense of betrayal washed over you. You had always known Gojo was popular, surrounded by women who seemed to possess an otherworldly beauty that you could only dream of. But you had hoped that your connection would be strong enough to withstand any external temptations.

As tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t help but question your own worth. Gojo had been your beacon of light, the one who had brought joy and stability into your chaotic world. You had believed that your love was strong enough to overcome any obstacles.

But now, faced with the harsh reality of Gojo’s confession, your insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance.

How could Gojo have led you on, making you believe that your love was real, only to discard you so easily for someone else?

But despite the storm of emotions raging within you, you knew that you had to find the strength to let Gojo go. You couldn’t force someone to love you, no matter how much you wanted to.

And so, with a heavy heart and tears streaming down your face, you whispered, “If that’s what you truly want, then I won’t stand in your way.”

You wiped away your tears and caught Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were filled with regret and sadness, and you could see the pain he felt in his expression. It was as if he realized the gravity of his decision and the hurt he had caused you.

“I’m so sorry,” Gojo whispered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. “I never wanted to hurt you. It’s not about your worth or how you compare to anyone else. It’s about me and my own shortcomings.”

You looked at him, surprised by his words.

“I understand,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. “I know I can’t change your feelings or make you stay. I’ll start packing my things so you can have your apartment back.”

As you rose from the plush couch, your footsteps echoed through the spacious apartment, the sound muffled by the thick carpet beneath your feet. With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom you had once shared with Gojo. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the impending change that would soon occur.

You opened the grand closet, its ornate doors revealing a collection of clothes and personal belongings. The air was filled with a bittersweet nostalgia as you carefully selected each item, their presence a testament to the love and happiness you had once shared. The room seemed to whisper your name, its walls bearing witness to the countless moments of joy and intimacy that had unfolded within its confines.

As you held each cherished possession in your hands, memories flooded your mind like a river. The soft touch of Gojo's hand, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the room. Each item carried a weight of emotions, a reminder of the love you had believed to be unbreakable.

Gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched you with a pained expression. The reality of the situation seemed to settle in, and he realized the depth of the connection he was severing. The room felt colder, emotions hanging thick in the air.

As you folded your clothes and placed them in a suitcase, Gojo finally spoke again, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "I never wanted it to come to this, Y/n. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it even if it's without me."

His words lingered, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the end. The room, once filled with shared laughter and intimate moments, now felt like a haunting memory. The pain was palpable, and you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever subside.

As you zipped up your suitcase, Gojo approached, his hand hesitating in the air as if unsure whether to touch you.

He gently brushed away a tear that rolled down your cheek.

"I'm truly sorry," he murmured,

With your suitcase in hand, you stood near the doorway, taking one last look at the place that had been your shared sanctuary. It was a goodbye to not only Gojo but also to the dreams you had woven together.

As you walked out, Gojo remained in the room, the emptiness echoing the void left by the shattered relationship. The door closed behind you, sealing the end of a chapter that had once promised forever.

-

In the days that followed, the task of finding a new place to call home became increasingly overwhelming. The once vibrant city, which had once been a source of shared dreams and promises, now seemed indifferent to your struggles. Each apartment viewing brought with it a fresh wave of emotions, serving as a painful reminder of the life you had envisioned with Gojo.

In the midst of this turmoil, old habits resurfaced. You found yourself reaching for cigarettes and turning to alcohol as a means of coping.

It was disheartening, as you had believed that these vices were behind you after Gojo entered your life and seemingly fixed all your problems. But now, they have reappeared, threatening to consume you once again.

What made matters worse was the lack of support you had. There were no parents to lean on, no friends to turn to for help. You were left to navigate this challenging situation all on your own, starting from scratch.

Before meeting Gojo, you had worked countless jobs to pay your bills and support your studies, scraping by with whatever little money you had.

The weight of it all was taking its toll on you. You felt yourself falling apart, the stress and uncertainty chipping away at your resolve.

But then, Gojo appeared, and your life took an unexpected turn. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring the two of you together. The first time you laid eyes on him was when you were working as a waitress at a cozy bakery. As he walked in, time seemed to stand still. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his striking features.

His vibrant blue eyes, reminiscent of a clear summer sky, held a depth that drew you in. His snow-white hair and lashes added an ethereal touch to his already captivating appearance. And when he smiled, it was as if the whole room lit up with warmth and charm. You were instantly captivated by his presence, unable to tear your gaze away.

To your surprise, Gojo noticed your lingering glances and, with a confident stride, approached the counter where you were working. He invited you to join him, and you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with this enigmatic man. As you sat together, indulging in delectable desserts, the hours seemed to melt away in a blur of laughter and shared stories.

Days turned into weeks, and Gojo became a regular at the bakery, always seeking your company. The two of you would engage in deep conversations that spanned a wide range of topics, from the trivial to the profound. Each interaction only deepened your connection, and before you knew it, you found yourself falling for him.

However, amidst the blossoming romance, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but notice the parade of women that seemed to surround Gojo. He would visit the bakery at least twice a week, each time accompanied by a different woman. They would engage in affectionate displays, acting as if they were a couple.

As you observed these interactions, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Comparisons became inevitable, and you couldn’t help but feel inadequate in comparison to these stunning women. Their flawless skin, plump breasts, and alluring curves seemed to highlight your own perceived shortcomings. Their beauty was undeniable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you would ever measure up.

But despite these doubts, Gojo continued to seek your company, showing genuine interest in your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. His actions spoke louder than words, and you began to question your own self-doubt. Perhaps there was more to this connection than meets the eye.

Maybe, just maybe, Gojo saw something in you that went beyond physical appearances.

Motivated by this newfound hope, you made a conscious effort to break free from your bad habits. Weeks turned into months, and Gojo continued to visit the bakery every day just to see you.

However, one day, something special happened. Gojo waited patiently for you to finish your shift and then walked you back to the motel where you were staying. It was during this walk that he truly realized how difficult your life actually was.

Seeing you work tirelessly, with dark circles under your eyes and wearing the same clothes day after day, Gojo couldn’t bear to see you living in such difficult conditions. He noticed the presence of alcohol and cigarettes in your room and insisted that you stay with him instead. He wanted to provide you with a better life, free from the struggles you had been facing.

And so, you took up Gojo’s offer and moved in with him.

And that's when you became a couple.

But after two years of being in a relationship with Gojo, he found someone else. The person who used to hold you in his arms, whisper sweet words of love, and make you feel like the most important person in his life was now directing those affectionate gestures towards someone else.

You didn’t want to let him go. The thought of losing him was devastating. However, you also understood that you couldn’t force him to stay with you if his heart was no longer fully committed. Questions swirled in your mind. Did you do something wrong? Were you not exciting enough for him anymore? Was there something else that led him to find someone new?

Despite the heartache, one thing remained certain- your love for Gojo would never fade. The pain of knowing that he loved someone else, someone who wasn’t you, was excruciating. No one could ever replace the way Gojo had changed you, the way he had touched your heart and made you feel alive.

You sat alone in the dimly lit motel room, a bottle of liquor in hand, you sought solace in the numbing effects of alcohol. The pain in your heart seemed unbearable, and you hoped that drowning your sorrows would provide temporary relief.

The room felt suffocating. Each sip of the bitter liquid seemed to momentarily wash away the ache, but deep down, you knew it was only a temporary escape. The truth remained that Gojo had moved on, and you were left grappling with the shattered pieces of your heart.

With a heavy sigh, you placed the half-empty bottle on the grimy nightstand and slowly rose from the disheveled bed. Your footsteps carried you towards the suitcase, which stood dutifully beside a small table, as you rummaged through its contents in search of something comfortable to wear for the night. The weight of your emotions bore down on you, causing you to push up your hoodie, removing it with a forceful toss onto the nearby chair, as you attempted to regain control over your tears.

The question echoed in your mind once again, piercing through the haze of confusion and hurt. How could he do this to you? The betrayal felt like a knife twisting in your heart, leaving you gasping for air amidst the waves of anguish.

You made your way towards the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, a vulnerable and exposed version of yourself. The longer you gazed upon your topless form, the deeper the sadness seeped into your being. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers grazing the surface of your bare stomach, as if trying to grasp the weight.

Could it be that your weight gain was the reason behind his abandonment? Did he no longer desire to be with you because of the changes in your body? The thought gnawed at your self-esteem, fueling the belief that the girl he now chose to be with possessed a flat stomach, a flawless figure, and enviable curves. Qualities that you, in your own eyes, did not possess.

Feeling the ache in your stomach intensify, you released your grip and turned your attention back to the task at hand. Pulling out a set of comfortable pajamas from your suitcase, you quickly changed into them, hoping that the soft fabric would provide some comfort amidst the chaos of your emotions.

As you lay down on the bed, the worn-out mattress offering little respite, your mind raced with thoughts of the uncertain future that lay before you. The realization hit hard – you would have to find a job, and fast. The fear of being kicked out of the motel, with nowhere else to go, loomed over you like a dark cloud.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, your mind began to form a plan. You closed your eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally settling upon you.

-

Days turned into nights, and nights into days as you tirelessly searched for a job. The motel room became a temporary refuge, a place where you could rest your weary body and gather your thoughts before facing the world again. And then, finally, your efforts paid off.

You received a call from the bakery where you had once worked, offering you a position. Excitement and relief flooded through you as you accepted the job. It was a familiar place,

The first day back at the bakery was filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. As you stepped through the familiar doors, the scent of freshly baked bread enveloped you. The warm smiles and greetings from your former colleagues made you feel instantly welcome, as if you had never left.

You returned to your old position as a waitress and memories of Gojo lingered in the back of your mind. It had been a while since you had seen him, and you had made peace with the fact that he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

You let out a sigh as you walked over to the table where some guests were seated. Taking their orders, you jotted them down on a small notepad and headed towards the counter to place it.

As you turned around, the door opened, and there stood Gojo Satoru, looking as charming as ever. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a smile instantly spread across his face. He waved at you, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

Beside Gojo stood a breathtakingly beautiful woman, exuding confidence and radiating charm. It was clear why Gojo was drawn to her, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

With a polite smile, you excused yourself and walked away, seeking solace in the different side of the bakery. Your heart raced as you tried to process the unexpected encounter. The memories of your past relationship flooded back, bringing with them a whirlwind of emotions.

In the safety of the different side, away from prying eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

As you continued your work, serving customers and attending to their needs, you found solace in the routine. The hustle and bustle of the bakery provided a distraction, allowing you to momentarily forget the turmoil that Gojo’s presence had stirred within you.

But deep down, you knew that healing would take time. The wounds were still fresh, and seeing Gojo with someone new had reopened them. Yet, you refused to let it define you.

As you stood behind the counter, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any customer in need of your assistance. However, it seemed that everyone was content, engrossed in their conversations and meals. Your gaze involuntarily shifted towards the table where Gojo sat with his new girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but observe the way Gojo’s eyes sparkled with adoration as he looked at her. The way his face lit up with a blush whenever she smiled at him was a sight you had never witnessed before. It was as if he saw her as a goddess, someone worthy of his utmost devotion and affection.

A pang of jealousy washed over you as you compared Gojo’s current demeanor with how he had looked at you in the past. His eyes had never held that same lovesick gaze when he was with you. It was a bitter realization that he had never regarded you in the same way he now regarded this new woman.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that captivated Gojo so completely. Was it her radiant smile, her confident aura, or perhaps something deeper that you couldn’t comprehend? Whatever it was, it was clear that Gojo had found someone who made his heart race and his eyes shine with love.

As you continued to observe them from a distance, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Part of you longed for Gojo to look at you with the same intensity, to make you feel like the center of his universe. But another part of you knew that it was time to let go, to accept that Gojo had moved on and found happiness elsewhere.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention back to your duties, reminding yourself that your worth was not defined by Gojo’s affections.

You carefully balanced the two deserts and the cup of hot chocolate on your tray, making sure everything was secure. Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly glanced at the table number where this order was meant to be served. Without looking up, you started walking towards the designated table, unaware of the impending collision.

Just as you were about to lift your gaze, your body collided with someone, causing your grip on the tray to loosen. The board slipped from your hands, and the cup of hot chocolate tumbled through the air, its contents splattering onto the person you had unintentionally crashed into.

Your eyes widened in shock, and panic surged through your veins as you realized the gravity of the situation. You quickly raised your gaze, meeting the eyes of the person you had accidentally drenched with hot chocolate. And in that moment, your whole world seemed to crumble around you.

It was her. The woman for whom Gojo had left you. The same woman who had stolen his heart and shattered yours in the process. The sight of her standing before you, her face contorted in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks, was like a knife to your heart.

She hissed in pain as the scalding hot chocolate made contact with her skin, desperately trying to wipe away the sticky liquid that clung to her. Your hands trembled as you reached for tissues from a nearby table, desperately attempting to alleviate the discomfort you had caused.

But just as you were about to wipe away the hot chocolate, a forceful hand slapped yours away, taking over the task of cleaning the girl's skin. Startled, you looked up and saw Gojo, his face contorted with fury. His eyebrows knitted together as he witnessed the tears streaming down the girl's face, his protective instincts kicking in.

You stood there, next to Gojo, your voice barely audible as you muttered apologies, trying to explain that it was an accident. But Gojo's anger seemed to drown out your words. He finished wiping away the hot chocolate from the girl's skin and pulled her into his arms, shielding her from any further harm. His gaze shifted towards you, his eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and rage.

"Why would you do that?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the air. His words pierced through your heart, intensifying the guilt that already weighed heavily upon you. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain of betrayal mingling with the anger. But you couldn't find the words to defend yourself, knowing deep down that there was no justification for your actions.

„It was an accident-“

He took a deep breath,"Save it, I know why you did it.“

„Just because I found someone else and that I’m happy with them doesn’t mean that you’ll get to hurt them out of jealousy!“ he spoke

„I thought you were better than that," he said. The girl, still in his arms, chimed in, her voice filled with anger. "Call your manager, you need to be fired!"

Gojo's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes searching for an explanation. The weight of his disappointment and the girl's demand for your termination bore down on you. Panic set in as you realized the implications of losing your job. You couldn't afford to be fired; you needed the money to support yourself.

Desperation filled your voice as you pleaded with Gojo, "Please, don't ask for my manager. It was just an accident. I need this job, I can't afford to lose it." Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to convey the sincerity of your plea. You knew you had made a mistake, but it was one born out of carelessness, not malice.

You instinctively grabbed Gojos' hand,“Please-!“ you begged, but your hand only got slapped away by the woman in his arms.

„And now you go touching someone’s boyfriend? What‘s wrong with you!“ the girl shouted as she slapped you.

Your head turned to the side from the force of the slap, a surge of pain radiated through your cheek. The impact left your skin hot and flushed, a visible mark of the humiliation you felt. You fought back tears, determined not to let them see your vulnerability.

With trembling hands, you gently placed your palm against your reddened cheek, trying to soothe the pain. Your eyes flickered towards the girl, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding, but all you saw was a cold, dismissive gaze. Her arms crossed defiantly, she demanded that you call for the manager, her voice dripping with disdain.

„Call the manager.“

Desperation welled up within you, and you mustered the courage to speak, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation. "Wait, please! I... I really need this job," you pleaded, hoping that she would see reason, that she would understand the dire circumstances that led you to this moment.

She cut you off, her words sharp and dismissive. "I don't care, call for your manager," she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for negotiation or empathy.

Your gaze shifted towards Gojo, silently pleading for his intervention, for him to vouch for you or at least offer some support. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a furrowed brow and a hint of disappointment. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of disbelief and disapproval. "Can't believe you would pull something like that," he murmured, his words landing like a heavy blow to your already wounded heart.

Your hand, still trembling, fell from your cheek as you straighten your posture. With a deep breath, you mustered the strength to bow,

"I'll get t-the manager right away," you said,

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Gojo and the girl, making your way towards the counter to call for the manager.

Your hands trembled slightly as you picked up the phone, dialing the number with shaky fingers. Each ring felt like an eternity, amplifying the anxiety that coursed through your veins. Finally, a voice answered on the other end, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

"Hello- this is Y/n L/n from [Bakery]. I... I need to speak with the manager, please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The person on the other end assured you that they would connect you, and you waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you waited, your mind raced with thoughts of the consequences that awaited you. Losing this job would mean losing your only source of income, and the financial strain it would bring was overwhelming. You couldn't bear the thought of disappointing your loved ones or struggling to make ends meet.

Finally, the manager's voice came through the line, and you mustered up the courage to explain the situation. You recounted the accident, your sincere apologies, and the girl's demand for your termination. The manager listened attentively, their voice calm and composed as they absorbed the details.

After a brief pause, the manager spoke, their tone firm yet compassionate. "I will come over to assess the situation and speak with all parties involved. Please remain calm and await my arrival."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you hung up the phone.

As you turned around, you noticed Gojo and the girl engaged in a hushed conversation. Their expressions were still filled with anger and disappointment, but there was also a hint of uncertainty. You approached them cautiously, your eyes downcast.

"I've c-called the manager," you said softly,"They will be here soon to address the situation. I... I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was never my intention to cause any harm or distress."

„Sure“ the girl replied.

-

Months had passed since that fateful encounter at the café. You had lost your job, the incident with Gojo and the girl tarnishing your reputation and leading to your dismissal. Now, you found yourself standing by the reception desk of another run-down motel, desperately seeking a place to stay for the night because you got kicked out of the last one.

As you approached the receptionist, a tired-looking man with a permanent scowl on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anxiety.

“Excuse me,” you began, your voice wavering slightly. “I was wondering if you have any available rooms for tonight?”

The receptionist glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tone was curt as he replied, “We do have a few rooms left, but I’ll need payment upfront.”

Your heart sank. You had been scraping by, barely making ends meet, and the little money you had left was barely enough to cover your basic necessities.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have enough money to pay for a room.”

The receptionist’s scowl deepened, his impatience evident. “Look, we can’t just give away rooms for free. If you can’t pay, then I suggest you find somewhere else to go.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were alone, with nowhere to turn and no one to rely on. The weight of your mistakes and the consequences they had brought upon you felt suffocating.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the reception desk, feeling the eyes of the other guests in the lobby on you, judging and pitying your predicament. As you walked towards the exit, a mix of shame and desperation washed over you, threatening to consume your spirit.

Outside, the cold night air greeted you, a stark reminder of your current reality. You stood on the sidewalk, feeling lost and defeated. The world seemed to blur around you as you pondered your next move, wondering how you had ended up in this dire situation.

Suddenly, a voice chimed in from behind, jolting you out of your thoughts. Startled, you turned around to find yourself face to face with Geto, your ex's best friend. His black eyes bore into yours, his raised eyebrows conveying curiosity and surprise. His gaze drifted to the suitcase clutched tightly in your hand, a silent question hanging in the air.

"Geto?" you questioned, your voice tinged with confusion.

A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he exhaled the cigarette between his fingers,"How many times do I have to tell you, you can call me Suguru," he replied,

“Why are you here?” he asked, standing before you and peering into your eyes. But before you could answer, another question slipped from his lips, catching you off guard. “Where is Satoru?”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know. How could he not know? Wasn’t he Satoru’s best friend? Shouldn’t he have been informed about the breakup that had occurred just last month? Did Gojo, your ex, not bother to share the news with him?

“Didn’t Satoru tell you?” you asked, breaking eye contact with him, unable to bear his gaze any longer.

“Tell me what?” he questioned. He removed the cigarette from his lips and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his shoe.

“That we broke up,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. As you watched his reaction, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he regained his composure.

“You two broke up..?” he questioned,“Since when did you-”

“Last month we broke up,” you interrupted,

“Is there any reason why you two broke up? Everything was good, wasn’t it?” As he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“He…” you hesitated, your gaze shifting to the side. “He found someone else,” you admitted, your lips trembling slightly.

“Oh,” he responded, his hand retracting from your shoulder as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes turned towards the night sky, lost in his own thoughts, before refocusing on you. “And why are you here in the middle of the night?” he asked, his gaze scanning you from head to toe, taking in your worn-out clothes. His eyes returned to your face.

“I got kicked out of the motel because I couldn’t pay for it anymore,” you replied,

His brows furrowed,"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said softly,"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

Without hesitation, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I have an idea," he said,"Why don't you come stay with me until you find a job and get back on your feet?"

Surprised by his offer, you looked at him,"I- I can‘t do that-!" you spoke.

A warm smile spread across his face. "Of course you can," he replied. "I have a spare room and it would be my pleasure to help you out. Sometimes, all we need is a little support to get back on track."

„But-!“

„No buts.“

"Thank you," you whispered, "I don't know what to say..."

He smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling,"No need to thank me," he insisted. "We all go through tough times, and sometimes we just need a helping hand. If there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask."

He took the suitcase from your hand and turned around, walking towards his house. "Let's go," he said, looking back at you.

You nodded and followed after him.

NEXT

[ladadiida]

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.

or,

you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!

𝐰𝐜 11.3k

"There you are."

Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.

He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.

"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.

You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.

An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."

"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."

"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.

"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.

Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.

"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.

However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."

Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"

"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.

Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.

On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.

You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.

Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.

It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.

You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.

"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.

Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"

A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.

Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.

Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.

You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.

Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.

Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.

It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.

The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."

You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.

"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.

His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."

In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"

"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."

You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"

"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."

"Maybe I can—"

"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.

"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.

Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.

Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"

A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"

His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."

He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.

You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.

With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.

"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."

A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.

Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"

Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"

"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"

"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.

"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.

The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."

Zeff took a deep, tired breath.

"Oh, they're ringing alright."

You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.

Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.

The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.

Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.

Or so you thought.

You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?

So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.

The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.

Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.

Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.

You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.

You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.

And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.

You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.

"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.

You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."

Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"

"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"

With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.

Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.

"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.

"Now I do."

Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.

You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"

"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."

Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.

You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"

Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.

"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.

Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.

"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."

He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."

You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"

You nodded. "I don't like it."

He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"

"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.

A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."

Oh.

Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."

He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.

But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."

Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.

"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.

"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"

Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.

But the answer was simple.

"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.

And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"

"Why not me?"

Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.

More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"

Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.

"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."

You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."

"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.

You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.

However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.

Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.

He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.

Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.

Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.

Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.

Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.

When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.

He doesn't.

⸻ • ⸻

"Are you really going to leave?"

Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.

"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.

Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."

You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.

The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."

You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."

"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.

Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.

And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.

You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.

Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?

You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.

"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.

"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"

A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?

"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."

Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.

Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."

Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.

He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.

As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.

In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.

He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.

Sanji almost dropped the plate.

It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.

He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.

You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.

"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.

That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.

You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"

"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.

"Sanji!"

He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.

Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"

It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.

Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.

"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.

He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."

That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.

Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.

You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.

He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.

Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.

A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.

You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.

Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.

"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."

"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.

Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."

The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.

You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.

Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.

The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.

But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.

"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.

You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.

"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.

Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."

You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"

He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."

The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.

It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.

As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.

"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.

The realization began to sink in.

Oh.

You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."

Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.

"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.

"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."

When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."

"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.

"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."

"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.

He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."

"No..."

"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.

"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.

However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."

You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."

"Even with me by your side?"

A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."

Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."

The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.

"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.

Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.

Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"

"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.

"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.

You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"

Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.

He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.

You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.

⸻ • ⸻

The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.

But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.

"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.

You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"

She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."

"I will."

"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.

You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"

He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.

"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"

Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"

When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."

"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.

Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.

It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.

⸻ • ⸻

The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.

A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"

You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."

The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."

"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.

Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.

Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.

You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.

You missed Sanji and everything that he was.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.

Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.

"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.

"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."

You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.

Sanji.

As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.

How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,

"There you are, ange."

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