#this is really long but i wanted to go through each song since i've listened to this album so much by now

[reidmania]

use somebody | spencer reid

part two

summary; spencer doesn’t believe someone like you could ever like someone like him, but he would do anything for a chance.

warnings; fem!reader, reader is described as being really really kind, bau!worker reader, fluff (slight angst bc spencer doubts himself) reader is a bundle of joy idk, spencer is absolutely disgustingly in love with reader. reader has a dog ( a golden retriever ) reader IS A BOOK LOVER, reader is shorter than spencer., no love confession but like there basically is. maybe a part two coming idk!

an; this is based off use somebody by kings of leon bc that song just AHHHH

‘I've been roamin' around, always lookin' down at all I see, painted faces fill the places I can't reach. You know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody, someone like you and all you know and how you speak, countless lovers under cover of the street, you know that I could use somebody, you know that I could use somebody. Someone like you, off in the night, while you live it up, I'm off to sleep, wagin' wars to shape the poet and the beat. I hope it's gonna make you notice, I hope it's gonna make you notice someone like me’

If there was a single light in a room, it would be your smile. Spencer had decided that the minute you introduced yourself to him on your first day, your wide smile was the first thing he noticed, then your kind voice — ever since Spencer Reid’s heart had your name written all over it and you had no idea.

You had been talking to Emily, your hands flinging around the more excited you got about whatever it was you were talking about, you were still smiling when Spencer approached with furrowed eyebrows after Emily had noticed him in the doorway and called him over to introduce himself to the team newest member.

You had introduced yourself with probably the widest, and sweetest grin he had ever seen. He almost forgot about the amount of germs spread through hand shaking when you offered him yours. He was pretty sure he felt the most embarrassment and disappointment when he didn’t forget — and turned down your handshake with his name and a silly ramble about what your name means historically.

He didn’t miss the way your smile never dampened — not even after his rejection of your offered hand, not during his embarrassingly long ramble, not as you listened intriguingly and then told him how cool it was that he just knew that off the top of his head.

That was a year, forty three days, 16 hours and 27 minutes ago — not that Spencer was counting. But he definitely was.

Your kindness won his heart from that moment. Your smile became his moral support during a particularly tough case. It seemed all the less tense when you would meet his eyes from across the room and offer him the sweetest smile. Your small gifts you left around for each member of the team became what he looked forward to and the end of every week — each more thoughtful than the last.

Spencer had kept the collection of small gifts you had given him on the shelf of his bedroom. Each one was specific to him. If someone on the team had mentioned wanting something or something they liked — at the end of the week it would be sitting on their desk with a little pink sticky note and a small ‘I hope you like it!’ in your hand writing.

He noticed that a lot of the time your gifts for him reference whatever he had rambled about the most that week, because he never explicitly told you he wanted anything or liked something because he knew you would go out of your way to get him it — you however found a way anyways.

Doctor who figurines, books, dvd’s. one week you had noticed him fidgeting more than normal and on the friday evening you had left a small collection of different fidget toys for him, with the same pink sticky note that wrote, ‘Picking at your skin is bad!! it can lead to infections and sometimes if you do it too much you could end up needing surgery. (I dont know if thats true, doctor google wasn’t helpful!) I hope these help’

He hadn’t picked at his skin since, if he was fidgeting it was with one of the small metal fidgets you had gifted him.

“Good morning!” You chirped — suddenly the room seemed brighter as you walked into the bullpen, your bag was slung over your shoulders as you made your way towards your desk. You turned your head to offer Spencer a sweet smile.

He returned it, lifting his hand to wiggle his fingers in a gentle waving. A habit he had picked up from you. You never just waved like everyone else did, instead you just held up your hand and wiggled your fingers. When you were asked about it you had smiled and shrugged and said it seemed like your fingers were dancing.

Spencer was pretty sure it was the sweetest reasoning for something he had even heard, but maybe that was just the fact it was coming from you.

“Did you like the dvd I gave you on Friday? The documentary one — if you have even watched it yet! I thought it was interesting!!” You said as you placed your bag on your desk. He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest at the way your hair fell over your face when your head dropped down to look at your desk.

He shuffled slightly at his desk to sit up a little bit straighter. “I watched it.” He stated. Any dvd you gave him he watched the night he had got it. This one particularly — he had known all of the information that was in it, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying it any less — because you liked it enough to recommend it to him.

“I thought it was interesting.” He nodded, you lifted your head and smiled and he started to wonder at what point that sweet smile would stop having an effect on him. He partly hoped it never would. “I watched another one yesterday. I think you’d like it.” He said, not mentioning the fact he had paid extra attention to all of it, making sure it included something you were interested in, just so he could recommend it to you then talk to you about it the next day.

You grinned, leaning against your desk as you looked at him. He was thankful your desk was so close to his. That you were so close to him. Close enough to have a conversation without having to talk across the room, close enough that he could lean over and help with whatever you needed if you asked.

“The documentaries you watch might be a little above my expertise. I think I’ll just be confused the entire time” You giggled out, tilting your head slightly to the side. He shook his head instantly, eyes following the hair that fell the way your head tilted, down your shoulder.

“You’re smart, you’d understand.” He said.

You smiled and raised your eyebrow slightly, “I’m not smart like you’re smart, Spence.” You shook your head, just as he had a few minutes ago.

He shrugged, “Not many people are” It came out cockier than he intended, he was about to apologise for how it sounded before he heard you let out a gutty laugh. A real laugh. “If- If you’d like.. We uh- We could watch it together and I could explain to you whatever you don’t understand” He added, then he realised he had basically just invited you to hang out with him. Just you and him, in an unprofessional setting. Now his mind was fuelled by the fear of rejection.

That fear dimmed when your smile widened. “Really? That would be great! I’d love that.” You had said.

Spencers mind went to almost a million different places in that moment. He thought about curling up with you on his couch, the documentary playing on his tv as you focused intently on whatever information was being said, he would admire you, he would ache to pull you closer and kiss your smiling lips.

Then he remembered how kind you were. The memory was both a blessing and a curse because then he remembered that your acceptance was probably an acceptance from your kind heart and want to spend time with your friend, opposed to wanting to spend time with him.

You smiled at him sweetly again before you were rushing off to greet JJ and tell her about something silly or maybe talk about whatever the two of you did on the weekend. He knew you often went out with the girls of the team on weekends.

Those nights he would lay in bed and wonder what you were doing, what you were wearing, how your hair was done, if you were laughing at a strangers jokes — you probably were. He knew that because you laughed at everyone’s jokes.

if all the joy in the world was wrapped up into a bundle and forced upon a person — that person was you. Spencer didn’t know if he had ever seen you not smiling and honestly his heart ached for the day he would have to.

“Hey Spence?” His head turned instantly towards the sound of your voice, he looked around to see you on your tiptoes trying to reach a file from a top shelf. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You didn’t need to say anything else before he was standing and walking over towards you.

He reached up, fingertips skimming along the files, “Which one do you need?” He asked gently, his eyes dipping away from the files to meet yours as you returned flat on your feet, a grateful smile on your lips, staring up at him.

“Um” You paused, eyebrows furrowing before a laugh left your lips, “The.. second one- I think” You paused before nodding.

He smiled “You think?” reaching up to pull out the second file nonetheless. He heard you sigh dramatically — he didn’t need to look at you to know you were smiling still, probably pushing hair behind your ear.

“Yes, I think.” You stated. He pulled out the file, handing it to you. You took it gently, flicking through it for a moment, your eyes dancing along the words on the page before nodding.

You scrunched up your nose a little when you looked back up at him. “— I thought right! Thank you Spence. You’re amazing and great and awesome” You rambled, flooding him with praise. He felt his cheeks warm at your never ending compliments despite how often you gave them. You constantly reminded him how amazing you thought he was — when he was doing the most minimal things.

He wanted to take it as a sign that maybe you felt the same way he did but then you’d flood someone else with the same praise and that flame of hope would dwindle down just as fast as it came alight.

“You’re welcome” He settled on as his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, your cheeks were a warm shade of pink and he wondered if that had anything to do with him rather than the fact the room was just a little bit warmer than normal.

You grinned and turned away. He followed as you walked back towards the desks. He sat down at his desk, swivelling his chair to face your desk. “I was thinking — if you wanted, this weekend we could watch that documentary at mine, my dog gets a bit excited around new people but he could stay outside if it makes you more comfortable— Oh and theres a new take away shop near my house if you wanted to get dinner” You rambled about your plan’s absentmindedly as you looked over the case.

Spencer felt his heart pull for a number of reasons, one because he didn’t even know you had a dog. He couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else did and this was just a piece of information he had missed out on. Secondly, at the fact you were serious about watching the documentary with him. You actually wanted to.

He had partly assumed you had just agreed because you were kind and didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and it would just be plans you two never really followed through with. He should’ve known better — because it was you.

“You don’t have plans with the girls?” He asked, eyebrows pinched together because he could clearly remember this morning hearing you and Emily talk about where you guys would go this weekend.

You let out a gentle laugh, shaking your head. “Im making plans with you actually. I go out with them every weekend, I’m sure they will survive without me for one.” You smiled sweetly at him, and his heart felt like it was being clenched by someones tight hand.

He tried to hide the fact his cheeks had turned an ugly shade of pink, and that his eyes had blinked away from your captivating gaze for a moment. “That- Yeah- Yeah. That would, thats fine. Your dog is fine. We can get dinner.” He stammered out, because apparently your kindness took away his ability to think straight. Although he knew that already.

“Great!” You smiled. Suddenly Spencer hoped this week would go fast. He turned his gaze back to yours as a question weighed on his tongue, a wonder.

“What type of dog do you have?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity as he watched you reorganise your desk. How you were smiling while doing something so mundane had his stomach filling with an ache of longing.

You raised your eyes back to his, a gasp of excitement leaving your lips at the opportunity to talk about your dog. “A golden retriever!!” You said, before going into a ramble about your dog.

He grinned as he listened to every word. He couldn’t help but think, a golden retriever. That was so fitting.

What Spencer wasn’t expecting at the end of the week, was a book sitting on his desk. The book wasn’t the surprising part. It was the pink sticky note and what it had written on it that sparked his curiosity.

‘I read this last week and I know romance novels aren’t usually your style but I thought of you. Its annotated. The key is on the back. Have the greatest night <3’

You had already left for the night after dropping everyone’s weekly small gift off around their desks and waving goodbye. Spencer knew you left a little earlier than anyone else to get the bus. You knew how to drive, you had a car. When he had asked you why you got the bus everyday you had told him you just enjoyed people watching.

He constantly worried about what may happen with the dangers of public transport and with how kind you were — well you would be an easy target. How could he tell you that he worried about you when you gave him the sweetest reasoning in the world? How could he tell you he worried without pouring his heart out to you.

Spencer went home that night and in bed he read the book you had gifted him — you were right, romance novels weren’t necessarily his favourite but it didn’t stop him from reading it with just as much interest because it was you that recommended it.

His eyes danced along the key on the back for your annotation. Pink was things you found sweet, green was moments you found interesting, yellow was things that moments that made you sad. — that one made Spencer’s lips pull into a tug because how dare anything make someone so sweet so sad?

But what really caught his interest was the blue. ‘things i want you to know’ It made him wonder what things in this book could possibly be something you wanted him to know.

When reading, he came across many colours and lines highlighted, most in pink and green, a few in yellow, but there was only one part highlighted in blue, it was lines in a conversation in the middle of a particularly mushy love confession between the two characters of the book.

‘You smile a lot.’ was highlighted in blue,

and then, “When you’re around, its hard not to’

Spencer didn’t know what it meant — thats not true. He knew what it meant, he knew what you were saying but he didn’t know what it meant about how you felt about him. His mind swirled with the possibility that you might feel something for him.

How it was possible that someone like you, could ever feel anything for someone like him had his mind in a frenzy.

That didn’t matter when Spencer finished the book and added it to the collection of items you had gifted him, he kept the sticky note and placed it back on the book. He looked over the collection — each gift partnered with the sticky note you had written when gifting them.

Spencer Reid loved you, and if he played any part in making you smile — That was enough for him.

[taesanrot]

[heavy] sunghoon x f!reader | 2.1k words exes to lovers, second chance, angst syn. ever since you broke up with your long term boyfriend, park sunghoon, he's been heavy on your mind. foolishly, you try to move on, but seeing him at a party reminds you why you can't let him go. note. i've been wanting to start a series based on songs i've been listening to recently! this is the second and hopefully not last fic in this collection lol. also this was kinda supposed to be a implied college au but im now realizing the setting is kinda vague so imagine it as you like :)

now playing: heavy by the marías

"cause i don't wanna be in love with another, even in another life."

sipping your drink, you wished so dearly to drown out the memories that played in your head like a broken record.

you were fine. everything was fine. you told yourself what you told everyone.

you were done with park sunghoon. it was for the better.

but even the loud drunken screams from your friends and the even louder music at this party couldn't make the words in your head stop playing over and over. you closed your eyes and tilted your face to the ceiling.

...

"let's go our separate ways." your emotionless voice contrasted with your tear streaked cheeks.

"y/n, what? what do you mean?" sunghoon's voice shook with confusion.

"i mean, let's break up."

"break up? baby i'm not breaking up with you over this." he stepped forward to grab your hand but you just crossed them in front of your chest.

"i'm tired of fighting! we're clearly not right for each other." your voice almost broke at the end, making sunghoon want to cry.

"couples fight all the time, you know we've both been really stressed lately, let's talk about this another time. when we're both feeling better." he tried and tried to reason with you, but your mind was set, and both of you knew that.

...

you felt stupid, then and now. it had been one month since you'd last seen your ex boyfriend, and you were a wreck. foolishly, you'd blamed everything going wrong on him, thinking that getting rid of your relationship would alleviate your stress. but sunghoon left a gaping hole in you, and suddenly it was like you were frozen.

the pain was unbearable, bu you were stubborn. you kept your head up, moving through night and day. you were a shell of yourself, but you were still standing.

you began to go out, your friends dragging you out of your apartment in an effort to cheer you up.

you tried and tried to move on. but talking to other guys made you feel sick. they didn't have his fluffy hair, his cute and pointy smile, or his pretty voice.

tonight was the same, you nursed a drink in your arms as you tried to forget everything.

"what are you thinking about, pretty?" you opened your eyes, nearly dropping your drink in shock as you turned towards the voice. you were face to face with a taller boy. he had dark hair and even darker eyes.

"nothing." you weren't going to get into your ex with a random guy at a party.

"i'm jisung, by the way." you smiled slightly as he introduced himself, trying to be polite. he seemed sweet enough, but you wished you were doing anything but talking to a flirty guy right now.

"i'm y/n." you replied, struggling to maintain your sanity and composure with the alcohol flowing in your veins. you kept up conversation for a bit longer, making an excuse that your friend was sick so you could finally make your escape.

finding your best friend, yunah, you tapped her shoulder to get her attention away from the music.

"y/n? what's up?" she grabbed your hand as she spoke, swinging it back and forth drunkenly. you smiled, gesturing to the back door.

"gonna go sit outside, need some air." she nodded and waved as you walked away.

what neither of you saw was sunghoon. he'd arrived not more than 15 minutes ago, with his friends jake and heeseung.

"dude, is that who i think it is?" jake blurted the moment they walked through the door. the 3 boys watched you talk to some taller guy with dark blue hair. sunghoon wished he didn't care, but truthfully he couldn't look away.

you were beautiful, wrapped in a black dress. you always looked angelic to him, always making his stomach burst with butterflies.

looking at you right now, his stomach was burning with a different emotion. he was green with envy watching another guy flirt with you when you should've been with him. the only thing that quelled his dread was the look on your face. he could see from miles away how uncomfortable you were, arms crossed tensely and face painted with a fake smile, one that didn't reach your eyes.

sunghoon wanted to be a respectful ex-boyfriend. he didn't contact you. he gave you your space after your breakup, even though he knew how stupid your fight was. he loved you, enough to respect what you wanted.

but watching you duck away from the blue haired boy and walk out the back door, sunghoon couldn't stop himself. he downed the rest of his drink, wincing at the burning feeling his throat before pushing through the crowd to get to the back door.

the night air soothed the growing dread within you a bit, but you were still left with a nauseating feeling. the same one you always felt when you talked to guys that weren't him.

slumping against the fence, you held your head in your hands, combing your fingers through your hair roughly. dizzily, you crouched on the ground, wishing you could just disappear. or even better, teleport to your bed.

“y/n?” your reaction was delayed as you slowly searched for the source of the voice.

in all his glory, park sunghoon stood before you, looking down at your crouched figure with concern.

“god, sunghoon. what are you doing here?” you groaned, sincerely wishing you were just hallucinating all of this. wishing that the first time you were seeing your ex boyfriend since the breakup wasn’t when you were a drunken mess.

god, today was seriously the worst.

crouching next to you, he reached out a hand to move some of your hair from your face. he leaned in front of you so he could see your face, while you stubbornly trained your eyes at the ground.

you were scared that if you even made eye contact with him for too long, everything would fall apart.

“are you okay? how much did you drink?” he spoke softly, his voice melting in your ears and warming your chest.

you wanted to cry, throat tightening at the feeling of him doting on you. you didn’t say anything, just nodding.

sunghoon could tell you didn’t want to be there just as much as he didn’t. normally, on a night like this, the two of you would be watching a movie together or baking or just laying in his bed and scrolling through one of your phones.

“do you wanna leave?” he asked, hand falling onto your shoulder and rubbing small circles. you nodded again, pushing your hands on the ground to stand up. you didn’t let sunghoon help you as he stood up, stumbling slightly as you stood up fully.

as the two of your walked out the back entrance, you looked at the boy in confusion as he began walking in the same direction as you.

“i’m not leaving you alone out here, let me make sure you get home.” you looked back at the ground, mumbling back a small okay and thank you, trying to ignore the words threatening to spill from your lips.

the walk to your apartment was filled with a thick silence, the only audible noises being the hum of the streetlights. A rough gust of wind caused your skin to fill with goosebumps, the cold breeze hugging your frame.

sunghoon noticed, almost quicker than you did. wordlessly, he dropped his leather jacket over your shoulders. you knew you should protest, but to be truthful, you missed him more now than ever.

when you didn't say anything or move at all, sunghoon stepped in front of you, gently unwrapping your arms and putting them into the sleeves of his jacket for you.

you stared at the cracked sidewalk, heavy tears threatening to fall from your eyes. his jacket was warm, and so big that you were practically swimming in it. his hands were warm too. and so was his voice, as he softly asked you if you were feeling less chilly.

you still refused to utter a word, not out of stubbornness but out of fear that your voice would betray you. after everything you did, after how bad you hurt him, sunghoon was still here, walking you home and taking care of you like he always did. like nothing had changed.

"y/n." sunghoon spoke a little louder, tilting your chin up so you looked him in the eye. "i said are you cold?"

the end of his question died in the back of his throat as your teary eyes came into view. he dropped his hand, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

"hey, hey, what happened?" his voice instantly softened. you couldn't do anything but shake your head, the tears finally trailing down your cheeks. sunghoon's thumb made contact with your cold cheek, wiping away the tears as the fell.

"y/n, please, tell me what's wrong." he almost sounded defeated, voice laced with concern that made you want the earth to swallow you whole. your chest ached.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, hoon." his head tilted in confusion at your apologies. he opened his mouth to respond.

"why are you apologizing?" you sniffled, tears still wetting your pink cheeks.

"im so stupid. i pushed you away because i just hated fighting and i thought that was the only way to make things better. but i can't-" you voice broke slightly and you took a second to breathe in. your eyes were screwed shut, refusing to look at sunghoon.

"i can't see myself with anyone else. i don't want to see myself with anyone else. any guy i talk to i just compare to you and it makes me feel sick. i know i can't but i've been trying so hard to move on because i'm scared that you hate me for hurting you and being so dumb." when you slowly opened your eyes, sunghoon pulled you into his chest.

your cheek was pressed against his white shirt, tears wetting the fabric as he held you tightly. he shoved his face into your hair, breathing in and relishing the feeling of you in his arms again.

"sunghoon?" you asked, voice muffled by his chest.

"i could never hate you." he mumbled into your hair. he pulled away and you saw him smiling, eyes crinkling as he tucked a strand of your hair away and wiped the last of your tears. your nose and cheeks were red both from the cold and from crying; sunghoon thought you looked adorable.

"for the past month haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. about us. how i should’ve fought harder to make you stay.” he laughed dryly as he spoke. “the only reason i even went to that party was because i might get to see you again.”

more than anything, it warmed sunghoon’s heart to see how much you still cared for him. all this time he was scared he was the only one still hung up on your relationship.

“i love you so much, i don’t care if we fight or if we go through a few rough patches. i only want you.” his voice softened slightly and he looked at you like you were the only two people in the world.

“you’re not mad at me?” you mumbled, hand crinkling the fabric of his tshirt as you clutched his side. shaking his head, he grinned.

“why would i be? you came back to me.” you smiled for what felt like the first time that night, hand instinctively covering your face. sunghoon pulled your hand down, wanting to see your shy smile. he loved when you were like this, shy and bashful. it made his heart nearly explode in his chest.

“can i kiss you?” he asked, intertwining your hands. you nodded gently, closing your eyes as sunghoon leant closer to you.

his lips were warm and soft, just like you remembered. your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, molding to each other perfectly. sunghoon’s arms slipped under his jacket that you were still wearing, hands wrapping around your bare waist.

you were flush against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin and his teeth sink into your bottom lip. as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, you swore to yourself that you’d never let park sunghoon go again.

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol

By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.

It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.

Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.

What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.

I miss you. I really, really miss you.

Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.

"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"

"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.

As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.

"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"

"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."

And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.

But he can't and it's killing him.

"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.

"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."

You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"

"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.

But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.

"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."

He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.

"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."

"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."

Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.

That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.

[samandcolbyownme]

The people wanted Colby angst & the people are getting Colby angst.

Summary: After a long, on and off, secret relationship with Colby, reader finally has had enough, or have they?

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angst, kinda sad, arguing/fighting, mentions of alcohol, flirting, reader is the lead singer in a rock band, slight mentions of depression/anxiety, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, unprotected shower make up sex, filth

Word count: 6.8K | NOT edited

Inspired by the song, The Grey by Bad Omens. I will also be using a few of their other songs, so if you haven't listened to them, you definitely should. Noah Sebastian is chefs kiss 💋

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

The relationship you had with Colby was the first relationship you kept going back to.

You knew he was bad for you, mainly because it felt like he was holding you back more than pushing you forward, but you loved him with everything you had in you.

When you were together, just the two of you, it was pure bliss. Like seeing love through rose colored lenses.

But it never failed to change with each launch party of a new album or even an after party for playing at a sold out show.

Colby couldn't contain his jealously, but yet, he's the one who wanted to keep your guy's relationship secret in the first place.

He didn't want the lime light, he wanted to have you all to himself, but he failed to realize that with your career growing, so would your popularity grew with it.

You broke up for a while, spent a few weeks apart. You worked on your new album some more. Colby hung out with Sam, investigating the paranormal some more.

You and Sam were good friends, so around the time Sam told you they'd be back, you got that, can we talk? text from Colby, and ever since then, you've been better than ever.

You agreed to understand him wanting to stay out of the spot light, so in public you were friends usually have dinner with other friends, but when it came to your band, they knew which meant you could kiss each other in front of them and they wouldn't bat an eye.

He's come to your studio sessions. Sat up until three am with you while you wrote down and hummed to random song lyrics. He's even been front row at sound checks.

He's become an even bigger number one fan and you absolutely loved it.

Things seemed to be going in the right direction for a while, and you were thinking about talking to him again about going public, mainly because you wanted more from him.

More with him.

You thought that since your relationship was in such a good place and haven't called it quits for the sixth time, it could work.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Here's to y/n. Her talent is what got us here in the first place." Your guitarist, Lewis, raises his glass and everyone follows in with a loud, "To y/n."

You laugh, leaning into Colby. He lays his arm over you, taking a sip from his drink, "You really deserve this, babe." He smiles, planting a kiss on your temple.

You smile, taking a sip from your glass, "Let's face it though, I would be here without you guys." You motion to the rest of your band, "So let's give a toast to the people who stand beside-" you point to your drummer, Hunter,"And sit behind me on stage."

Hunter laughs, "Thanks for being so specific, y/n."

You nod, "Of course."

You look at Colby, "And thank you, for supporting me no matter what we go through."

He smiles, "I love you."

"I love you." You lean in, pecking his lips before turning to face your band, "Who's up for another round, huh?"

A few hours later, you and Colby arrive back to your house.

"So when's the album supposed to be finished?" Colby asks as he sits on the couch. You shrug your jacket off, walking over, "Hopefully by the end of the month. I have almost eight tracks so far? I want there to be at least ten."

"Are you going to release a single?" He extends his arm out as you sit down next to him, "Your singles are always a banger."

You laugh slightly and shrug, "I've thought about it. I mean, I have ideas but-"

Colby's phone buzzes and he ignores it.

Probably just Sam, you think, "I haven't really-" Colby's phone buzzes again, "Do you need to get that?"

He shakes his head, "I'm not worried about it. I'm worried about you." He pulls you closer and kisses your head, "So what are these ideas you have for a single?"

You blow out air, resting your head back onto his arm, "I'd have to go get my notebook, my brain is still kinda fuzzy from the show and then the post show alcohol."

You get up, laughing to yourself as you walk into the room that holds all your music equipment. You grab the notebook and turn around to walk back out, slowing down when you see Colby on his phone.

As much as you wanted to trust him and move forward, a part of you still had anxiety when it came to him with certain things.

You slowly walk over, "So."

He locks his phone and sets it down on the couch next to him, "Let's hear something." You sit down, facing him, "Okay. So I think these are going to go all in one song, but I so far I have I'm drowning in a dream I can't escape."

Your eyes can down over the page, "Then I have, ninety miles in the dark and family scars and electric hearts? I don't know there just something.." you look up at him, "That comes to me? I guess."

It was going so well, you didn't want to tell him that you were using your past times trying to make it work as a muse.

You weren't sure how he would take it, fine, probably. But at the same time, you didn't want to risk it.

"So Colby.." you set your notebook down, "I was thinking."

"Oh boy." He chuckles, "no, really. What's up?"

You smile as you move closer to him, "I was thinking that maybe we can.. grow.. more in this relationship?"

He tilts his head, looking over at you, "What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean." You look up at him, "I want more with you, Colby. I want to go out and be able to hold hands with you at a restaurant. I want to eventually get a house with you." You sigh, "I want marriage, Colby."

He stays quiet for a few seconds, "I've been thinking about it, too."

You raise your eyebrows, "Really? You have?"

He nods, sliding his hand up to grip your chin, "You are such a beautiful and talented woman, y/n. You genuinely surprise me every day I'm with you."

You smile and he leans in, "I love you."

You run your hand through his hair and lean in to close the space between the two of you, "I love you." You press your lips to his and move your head to rest your chin on his shoulder as he pulls you into a hug.

You glance down as his phone lights up and your heart starts racing as the name Serenity appears on the screen, "Who's Serenity?" You lean back and you can tell Colby is caught off guard, "It's.. No one, y/n. I promise."

You lean back and he tries to grab your hand, "Just wait.." you rip your hand away, placing it on your cheek, "Colby.. I thought.." you can feel tears burning in your eyes, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"She isn't anything, I mean she was but-"

You cut him off, "When?"

"What?"

You raise your voice a little bit louder, "When. Colby, when was she ever anything?"

He stands up, "When we broke up this last time. I met her while Sam and I were in Georgia. It wasn't anything. I missed you, so that's why I-"

"You missed me? So you went and found someone to.. what, exactly? Distract you from the thought of me?" You throw your hands up, "Just when I thought things were changing."

"They are!" He says loudly, "They are! I haven't talked to her since the day before we left. I was focused on you because you're fucking everywhere y/n. but How can I get over you if-"

You raise your brows and he shakes his head, "No, that came out wrong.. I didn't.. I didn't it mean it to sound like that, I don't want to get over you." Colby walks over to you and you just stand there staring at the spot he walked away from.

He slides his hand up your arm, "I promise you it is and was nothing. Just a conversation.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your words are cold and you look at him. He shakes his head, "No. no we didn't do anything, and even if it did progress, which it didn't. Sam wouldn't have let anything happen, you know that?"

"Then why is she calling and texting you at three in the fucking morning?" You groan, "God, Colby. I genuinely thought we were going somewhere this time? All the times you showed up for me when you didn't before?" What was that just a cover so I didn't suspect anything?"

He shakes his head, "No, y/n. It's not like that at all."

"How can.." your voice breaks, so you pause, taking a deep breath before you sigh, "How am I supposed to believe you when you've done this shit before?"

"What are you talking about?" He tilts his head, "Please, tell me. I would lo-"

"Second time we got back together, I seen a Mariah on your phone. She was sending hearts, saying that if, and I quote, 'you and your mystery girl break up again, you know where to find me' end quote." You keep your stare on him, "we broke up shortly after getting back together that time, because things were getting too serious too fast, as you said."

"That wasn't.. she was.." he sighs, "We're talking about things over the course of a year or so, y/n. I didn't think I was ready to be with someone like you."

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean exactly?" You cross your arms and he sighs, "Again, didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"Just go."

Your words catch him off guard, "Huh?"

"Go. Get out." You point to the door, "I can't..." you close your eyes, begging yourself not to cry, "I can't keep doing this. Shutting myself down, trying to change you or even trying to change myself, Colby."

"Who's changing? What are you talking about?" He steps closer to you and you shake your head, looking up at him, "I just.. I guess I just gave you too many chances and you literally ran through them all."

You groan, "Fuck, I literally have everything I could ever want, but it obviously still isn't enough."

"Enough for what, y/n? You're enough for me." Colby's voice goes quieter, "Please." He steps towards you, wrapping his hands round your wrists, "Can you just please, sit down. Read the messsges. Time stamps. Everything."

"I just wanted more, Colby. More from you. This isn't.." you shake your head, "I just want to finally be with someone who doesn't leave me falling asleep confused every night."

"No, don't let me go." He rests his forehead against yours, "I mean it. I'm serious this time. I don't want anyone else but you."

"Who even am I anymore, Colby? Honestly." You step back, pulling your hands free from his grasp, "I literally don't even know who I am anymore. A singer who allows someone to just keep hurting her over and over again?"

"Y/n." Colby shakes his head, "Just please, hear me out."

"You had the chance to tell me. When we got back together.. I told you about the guy I had dinner with. I didn't even want to do it but I was so pissed at you for that Mariah girl, I just.. tried evening the score but I guess that didn't fucking matter, now did it?" You pace back and forth, feeling like you could puke.

"The thought.. of you even.." you lay your hands on your lips, "Being with another girl is enough to make me drop dead."

"I was never with any other girl, y/n. You have to-"

You cut him off, "No. I'm done. I'm done with this grey area of us that can only be seen when it's just us. It's not what I want, you know what I want and you just..." you look at him, "Clearly arent on the same level as me, you never were."

"But I am." He pleads and you shrug, "sure doesn't seem like it to me." You sigh, "Just.. go. Please."

"I'm not giving up on us, you can't just dig another grave and let me go, not like this." He stays in his spot and you just stare at him, "Colby. I'm tired. I have a headache, I'm not... I'm not doing this anymore. Just please, go home."

"Fine. But I promise, I'm not giving up. I'll give you space but I'll prove that I want you." He grabs his keys, walking towards the door.

You want to stop him but it's like your body is frozen in its place. You can't move, no matter how much you want to.

He gives you one last look before closing the door and you immediately break down, falling to your knees and leaning up against the couch.

You're gasping for air, clutching your chest as you try not to cry too loud.

You wanted Colby, but you didn't want the hurt that comes along with it anymore.

A part of you believed him, but at the same time, a part of you knew that you needed to let go.

Then it hit you.

Turn the pain, into power.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Over the last two weeks, the only time you'd leave your house was to go to the studio. You had a new song in that was practically almost down.

A new single, and you had Colby to thank for that.

Other than that, you laid at home, in the dark usually just thinking about everything, Colby mainly.

It's been two weeks and you've barely made the effort to answer him. But you always do. Whether it's just him one word answers, or you wait hours, you can't seem to stay away from him no matter how much you wanted to.

That was until you got a text from him that set you off almost instantly, it feels like we don't talk anymore and you don't seem to care.

You sit up in bed, scoffing as your thumbs tap the screen at lightning speed. As you're in the middle of your paragraph, he sends you another text, I knew that would get your attention.

You clench your jaw. selecting your paragraph and deleting it to which you replacing with, what do you want, Colby?

He instantly replies, I want you to see that I love you.

You stare at the message, unable to come up with a response. He texts again, After your show tomorrow, I'm going to prove to everyone that I'm ready to join you in the spotlight you stand in.

You've been so caught up in your own shit, you forgot about the show you have scheduled for tomorrow.

Another sold out show.

You respond to Colby's text, what? Are you gonna join me on stage?

You laugh slightly as you click out of Colby's text thread and go to your bands group chat, meet me at the studio. We're playing that song tomorrow night.

Your eyes move up to the banner notification with Colby's text that reads, you'll see, baby.

A smirk plays at your lips, until you remember that you're mad at him.

Why you're mad at him.

You toss your phone down, getting up to change before you make your way to the studio.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You walk into the venue, looking around in awe at the place you'll be playing. Thousands of seats scattered all around.

You were in shock each time you stepped foot into one of these places.

"Can't believe we'll be playing here tonight." Lewis walks up, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "You doin' okay?"

You sigh, crossing your arms, "Colby's coming tonight, and he says he has something planned to tell everyone he loves me. I don't.. really know how to feel but.."

You look up at him, "The show must go on, right?"

He tilts his head, "He isn't used to being with someone as pretty and famous as you are, y/n. I'm not trying to take his side, but maybe what happened between you guys, really opened his eyes."

You shrug, "I love him to death, but if we keep going in this direction, I don't think either one of us will make it out alive."

Lewis snaps his fingers, humming as he thinks.

You smirk, turning to face him, "What are you cooking in that head of yours?"

"Da da da.. da da.. da da.. Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize, love's the death of peace of mind? Think we can make a song about it?"

You laugh, thinking about it, "You know what." You nod, "Studio session. You and me. Tomorrow." You point at him and look over, seeing Sam walk towards you.

You walk over to him, bringing him in for a hug, "What are you doing here?" He hugs you and sighs, "Had to make sure my two people weren't going to kill each other, you know."

"So you heard about the argument.." you step back, crossing your arms over one another, "Sorry I didn't.. call you."

"Colby filled me in." He nods, "Plus I figured if you needed me you'd call."

"I haven't talked to anyone about what happened.. I mainly out focus into a song." You look at him and he tilts his head, "Does he know?"

You shake your head, "But he will tonight."

Sam wraps an arm around your neck, "You people and your song making." You shrug, "I felt like I couldn't explain it, no matter how hard I tried, so I wrote a song about it myself."

He laughs slightly, "What's it called?"

You bite the inside your lip, "The Grey."

"Hmm." He nods, "I'm actually really excited to hear it." He looks around, "Can't believe you sold this place out." He pulls you into him, "I'm proud of you, kid."

You laugh, rolling your eyes, "Thank you. Thank you." You sigh, "So is he here?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not yet. He's coming with our other friends later on." You nod, "Do you-"

"No. I don't know what he has planned." Sam laughs, "Nice try."

"Hey, couldn't hurt, right." You laugh and look up at Hunter who's waving at you. You nod, giving him a thumbs up, "I gotta go. Sound check you know."

"So I'll hear a snippet of the song?" Sam raises a brow and you shrug as you walk away, "Guess you'll find out."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You bounce up and down slightly, taking a deep breathes as your nerves for this show are a lot higher than they've been for any other show.

Colby was in the audience this time.

Not hiding behind the curtain, off to the side like he has for every other show he's been to.

You wanted to know what he was planning, it's driven you crazy since he first said something about it yesterday.

"You're gonna kill it." Hunter says nudging you as he walks by. Lewis walks up, putting on his guitar, "It's just like any other show."

"Let's hope." You laugh slightly before putting your inner ears in, shaking out your hands before taking the mic from your stage director.

The band walks out into stage, taking their places and the music to the first song starts playing.

You put on a smile, walking out when you hear your cue. You move around stage as you sing your first song, waving to the fan.

You walk over to the mic stand, placing your mic in the holder as you finish, "How's everybody feeling tonight!?"

A massive sea of screams erupts in front of you and you can't help but smile, "Thank you all for being here. Another sold out show!"

You clap and the fans erupt again.

"I have something very special towards the end of tonight's show!" You look back at the band, laughing when the fans go crazy, "Too bad you won't know what it is until the end, "Anyway. Here's Like a Villain."

The rock music starts and you slowly head bang to the music, rocking your mic stand as you wait for your time to start singing.

Colby is heavy on your mind, so heavy you almost miss your cue, "Look into my face, then look again. We are not the same, we're different.."

You smile as you see the fans dancing and singing along. You absolutely loved being on stage.

You continue singing verse one, "You need a new clean slate without the dents. A place to put your pain, your consequence.. When you look into the mirror, are you even there?"

You take a breath, grabbing the mic off the stand. You bend down slightly as you belt out the chorus, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."

You walk around the stage as you sing, giving them a performance. You dance around during the little break, walking over to the other side as you start to sing the second verse, "So write a brand new page, then write again. I know your act is staged, yet you pretend.."

Finishing the second verse, you move into the chorus again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."

You move back to the mic stand, resting it back in its holder as you wait for your cue for the bridge, gently singing, "Like a villain, I couldn't be I didn't need it, it needed me.. Like a villain, I couldn't be. I didn't need it, it needed me.."

It goes into the breakdown and your eyes scan the crowd and you see Sam and Colby standing in the VIP section of the pit.

Your heart skips a beat, and you start to sing again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself.."

The song goes into the outro and the band stops playing and the crowd goes crazy.

That one is always a hit.

You felt on top of the world right now.

You literally did have everything, but you still wanted more, just like your new song says. Just like you told Colby.

You were nervous. The closer you got to performing it for the very first time.

You weren't sure how Colby was going to react. Sam was the closest person to him, but you knew he wouldn't say anything.

At least you hoped he wouldn't.

A few songs later, almost ready to close out the show, you take a deep breath, "You guys have been absolutely phenomenal tonight!"

You raise your hands above your head, clapping for the crowd, "I mean it. I think this is the best crowd we've had this year so far."

The crowd screams and you sigh, "Alright guys.. so that surprise I was talking about earlier.." you pause, letting the crowd scream, "Alright, so I may or may not have been in the studio these last two weeks trying to get out a new single, and let's just say.." you pause, smirking out at the crowd, "I've done just that."

You laugh, grabbing your mic off the stand and walking around, "This single means.. a lot to me, for a few reasons and I'm very excited to announce that it will be out...."

The crowd go crazy, yet again, chanting in unison, "Tell us! Tell us!"

"Okay okay." You wave your hand, "I don't know when it'll be out, but we're going to play it for you right now."

You walk back over to the mic stand, giving your band a thumbs up, and they start playing.

You nod your head to the slow moving, then quick to pick up pace, "Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart." You take a quick breathe, "And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah.."

Your heart was pounding harder with each line, "Looking sideways when I say I'm okay with the past But I'm afraid of what I might say if you ask.."

You grab your mic, walking to the left of the stage, away from the side Colby was on, going into the pre-chorus, "Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all..Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough.."

"Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call.."

You take a breath, "Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.."

"Yeah, I still wanted, more.."

You walk towards the right side of the stage, smoothly transferring into the chorus, "There's not another way, don't let me go.. Don't dig another grave today..."

"I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know Who I was before I faded away.. Into the grey.."

You knew Colby knew. You were sweating.

You had a little break before you went back in for the second verse, "All of this time sittin' inside, sittin' in the dark.. And every night, I can see why you could never stop, yeah.."

"Lying is hard and the truth comes out anyway.. You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate.."

You sing the chorus again before grabbing the mic, moving to the right of the stage, directly in line of sight from Colby.

You lay your hand on your chest, tapping it with the words of the post-chorus, "I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down and I'll never be the same."

"I did it to myself, tried to be someone else..And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.."

You drag out the last word and the crowd goes absolutely insane.

You smile as you sing the words to the bridge, then moving into the chorus one final time before moving back to your mic stand to close out, "Into the grey."

You step back from your mic stand and smile, looking out over the crowd.

Your eyes land on Colby and he's clapping and shaking his head with a smile on his face.

He pulls out his phone, turning around to record him and you on the stage. Sam starts smiling and laughing as he gives you a double thumbs up.

You blow a kiss to him, laughing as you wave and then suddenly the fans go even crazier.

You look down, shrugging as you ask, "What is happening?" You being the mic up to your lips, "Why are we having a second rush of cheering, I mean I appreciate it but, fill me in. Please."

You point to one of the girl's phone and security grabs it, handing it to you.

You watch the video play. It's what you watched Colby do, but you didn't know exactly what he did. You smile as you reach up to take your in ear out, "I have to be able to hear it right?"

The girls in front go absolutely insane screaming things you can't comprehend, "Okay, okay. Hold on."

You bring the phone up to your ear and you wanted to cry.

This is what you wanted all along.

Colby screams into the phone, "That's my fucking girlfriend." You hand security back the phone and the girl screams, "is it true? Is it true?"

You smile, giving her a nod, "Yes." You look up, bringing the mic to your lips, "Alright everybody. Thank you guys so much for a great show. We will definitely be back! I love you!"

You put your mic into the stand, waving as you run off the stage. You make your way back and your manager comes up to you, "Oh my god, y/n. That song. Top of the charts. You need to release it immediately."

You laugh, "I'll get it out tomorrow." You look over his shoulder, seeing Sam and Colby walk down the hallway, "Excuse me." You walk around him, making your way to the boys.

Sam gives you a hug, squeezing you tight, "Phenomenal."

You lean back, smiling, "Yeah?"

He nods, "Absolutely fucking insane." He moves to the side and you look up at Colby, "Are you mad?" He tilts his head, "Are you mad?"

You shake your head, chewing on your chew as you try not to smile, "No."

"Good." Sam lays his hands on each of your one shoulders, "Now kiss and make up." He pushes you towards each other and you laugh, wrapping your arms around Colby's neck.

You press your lips to his and lean back, "We gotta go. I need a shower. I was sweating because I thought you weren't going to like the song."

"I'll only be mad if it doesn't make top of the charts." He laughs, following you to your dressing room, along with Sam.

You walk in and go over to your bag, grabbing sweats and a sweatshirt, "I'm going to change quick." You walk behind the solid partition, quickly changing from your stage outfit into something comfy.

"So it was a good show?" You ask walking out to toss your stuff into your bag. You pull out your slippers, dropping them to the floor.

"Ten out of ten, will come to one again." Sam gives you a thumbs up. You smile, looking at Colby, "Ready to go home?"

He nods, "Yes. Please."

You zip your bag, walking over to Colby and taking his hand in yours. He gives your hand a squeeze and follows you out.

As you walk out, you see fans waiting by the one barricade, "I'm going to go see them." Colby nods, "Let's go."

You smile as you walk over, moving in between the two security guards. Colby takes your bag, waving and saying hi to the fans that call out for him.

"So you're Colby's girlfriend?" The one asks and you nod, smiling as you sign her paper, "I sure am."

"You looked so beautiful tonight." Another one says and you pout, "Stop it, you're so beautiful."

You turn, taking the one girls phone and taking a few selfies with her.

You do that with a few more and step back, "I hate to go, but I am exhausted. Thank you guys so much for coming out. I love you I love you!" You blow kisses to them and wave as you walk way, Colby glued to your hip.

"You're so cute when you do that." Colby opens the car door for you and you smile, "I love them. I want them to know that."

You get in, Colby moving to sit next to you.

"So. I have to ask." You turn to him, "Why now?"

He shrugs, placing his hand on your knee, "You wanted a huge gesture and our figured doing it at your show was pretty big."

You laugh, "I mean, yeah. And tweeting it.."

"I know we have some of the same fans so I figured if I tweet it, one was bound to see it and you know how fast that shit spreads." He squeezes your leg, "I'm just.. I wish I could prove to you how sorry I am."

"I mean.." you lay your hand on his hand, sliding it up his arm, "you're doing good so far... but I have a few more ideas.."

"Mm." He leans in, "Do tell." He kisses your cheek and you smile, "I'll tell you when we get home."

"But home is so far." He whines quietly, "Just one thing.. yeah?"

You turn your head, biting your lip as you look at him, "Don't push it." You laugh, pressing your lips to his and you couldn't wait to be home.

Soon enough, but it felt like forever, you and Colby are running up to the door. You work to unlock it as his hands slip under your sweatshirt.

"Almost.." You sigh, "Got it." You push the door open, turning around to face Colby as you walk backwards into your house.

His lips go to yours and your arms go around his neck as he kicks the door shut with his foot.

As you're making out, the post-show adrenaline wears off and you push yourself off of Colby, "Wait."

"Don't do this." He sighs and you shake your head, "How do I know it'll be different this time? How did I know that you'll be able to contain your jealousy and everything else that tore us apart before?"

A smirk grows on his lips and you tilt your head, "What?" He walks over to you, cupping your cheeks to give you a kiss before whispering, "I'm not jealous anymore because everyone knows you're mine."

He bends down slightly, lifting you up, "Now let's go get that shower, yeah?"

You smile, your hands on either side of his neck as he walks you into the bathroom. He pins you up against the wall, holding you up with his hips as he reaches in to turn on the water.

The bathroom quickly fills with steam as he sets you down so you can undress.

Hands are all over. Lips are kissing any part of your bodies they can get to.

It's hot.

He steps in, pulling you in with him and he spins you around as he closes the door. You gasp as your back presses up against the cool tile of the shower.

A moan escapes from your lips as his fingers move down to circle your clit, "F-fuck."

"This was I needed to do?" Colby asks and you shrug, lips parted slightly as you nod, "Kind of."

He hums in response, dropping down to his knees, "Or was it this." He lifts a leg, placing it on his shoulder before leaning in to lick between your folds.

Your hands move to his wet hair, tangling your fingers in as you arch your back off the wall.

His tongue circling your clit before gently nipping and sucking. You moan, tilting your head back as you close your eyes.

You missed him between your legs.

You missed him in general.

"C-Colby." You breathe out, "S-shit."

You look down at him, biting on your lip as you watch the image below you. His fingers dig into your skin and you roll your hips, "Yes, yes, yes."

He brings a hand over, slipping two fingers into you which earn a whine from your lips.

You pull his hair slightly harder which causes him to groan. The stroke of his fingers is absolutely perfect, he knows your body better than anyone.

"F-fu- co- col-" You squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure of his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit.

He knew you were close, so he kept that pace as best he could.

Your hips buck out, moaning loudly as you push his gave into you, "Colby!" You clench around his fingers, your legs shaking more and more with each second you have to hold yourself up.

Colby leans back, setting your leg down on the floor but keeping a hand on your waist as he stands back up, "I fucking love you." He tilts your chin up and presses a kiss to your lips.

Your tongue moves in sync with his as he lets out a low groan as you wrap your hand around his cock, "Fuck. I need you."

You smirk at his words, "Fuck me."

He leans down, lifting you up and your arms wrap around his neck. He cautiously slips his one arm under your knee and you reach down to hold his cock steady as he slips into you.

You let out a loud moan, tilting your head back as you feel him rest inside of you.

"Look at me, baby." Colby whispers.

You tilt your head up, tightening your arms around his neck. He watches your face twitch as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.

You keep your eyes on him, forcing yourself to keep them open as you squeeze his cock, "Fuck, Colby."

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours and you slide a hand up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"I love you." Colby mumbles against your lips, "It's always been you."

You moan into his mouth, digging your nails into his skin, "Don't leave me again." His lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin.

You moan, tilting your head to the side. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses his way over your collar bones, making his way to the other side, "Never.."

He stops thrusting, resting inside of you, "I'm not going anywhere, and I plan on making sure everyone knows it."

You smile, nodding your head, "No more grey area?"

"Full on color, baby." He smiles and brings his hand up to cup your cheek, moving his lips with yours.

He sets you down, spinning you around so your chest is pressed against the glass shower door. His hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing a moan from you as he slips his cock back in.

"F-Fuck." You whimper, pressing a hand to the glass and dragging it down. Your eyes roll back as he squeezes harder, cutting off your moans from sounded loud.

His thrusts are slow and hard, digging his fingers into your waist harder with each one, "F-fucking hell, baby."

He lets go of your neck and you gasp for air as he slides his hand to your shoulder, gripping it as he thrusts faster.

A string of moans and whimpers leaves your lips as his thrusts grow sloppy. He leans forward, resting his head on the back of yours and you can tell he's going to cum soon.

"Not gonna last much longer." He whispers, his voice raspy as he tries to hold it together, "Fuck, fuck."

"Don't stop." You moan out, "pl-ease don't stop."

You move your hips back into him, moaning loudly as you feel yourself growing closer, quite quickly.

"C-Colby!" His name leaves your lips in a scream as you cum around him once more. You moan, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.

You knew he came with you.

He lets his grip on your loosen, leaning up as he slides his hand down your back, "Incredible." He pulls you to stand up, his cock falling out as you turn.

Your lips meet his and he pulls you close to him.

After your shower, you walk out with a towel wrapped around you. Colby is lying on the bed and you can tell he's nervous about something.

"What?" You ask, stopping in your tracks, "What happened?"

He sits up, shaking his head, "Nothing, I'm just.. thinking.."

"Oh god, are you about to-"

"No, no. It's not what you think." He laughs slightly, brushing your wet hair from your shoulders, "I just don't know if this is the right time, but I feel like I need to just.."

Your heart is racing and your mind is moving too fast for you to even pick one thought to focus on, "Just say it." You blurt out and Colby sighs, "Fine. I will."

He takes a step back, getting down on one knee as he pulls out a ring from his pocket, "I don't even know if it's the right time but it feels like it and I jus-"

You cut him off by falling to your knees in front of him,  eyes glassy as you look from the ring to him, "Yes."

"I- what? Yes?" His mouth drops and he smiles, "You think it's the right time?"

"You told everyone I was your girlfriend at my show." You pluck the ring from his fingers, a smirk on your face, "Now at the next one, I can tell them I've been upgraded to fiancé."

He stands up and pulls you to your feet. He places the ring on your left hand and sighs, "I promise, we're going to work."

You look up at him, "We're endgame."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you liked it. As always, tell me what you think. Thanks for wanting more from me. It means SO much to me! Love you all!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken @skyslondon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @this-is-not-eirini

[seonghwaddict]

say my name — song mingi

request by anon. "This is my first request to anyone ever so forgive me if this is..idk incoherent 😭. But lately I've been thinking about a short smut story where the reader (fem) being a backup dancer for ATEEZ and Mingi catching feelings for her over time and then end up fucking in the dressing room and maybe one of the members walks in idk have fun with it. 🤭"

idol!song mingi x backup dancer!reader. genre. smut. warnings. smut below the cut, explicit sexual content minors dni, fingering, some dirty talk, use of petnames (doll, baby), slight dom/sub dynamics, dom!mingi, swearing, intentional lowercase. please let me know if i missed anything. wc. 1.2k.

lilo's notes. i'm back!! this is the first request i've received, hopefully i did it justice. by the time i finished writing i forgot that anonie asked it it's possible for another member to walk in and join.... sorry about that. but anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this!!

listening to. perceive by doma cyno.

masterlist

“fuck, baby,” a hand swiped through your folds, gathering the almost embarrassing amount of arousal from your core. “you’re so wet.”

you like to think your day started off like every other day. you woke up at 7 am, ate breakfast, got ready for the day and arrived at kq two hours later. you went through some choreographies with the other backup dancers until 4 pm, left to run some errands, and then returned to practice some more on your own.

since your first day at the company only a few months ago, you’d always take a few hours after your shift to perfect your art more than you already have. sometimes you’d spend those hours with the other dancers who showed up for the same reason, but surprisingly, a lot of the time it was mingi who found himself practising his group’s or his own choreography alongside you.

the first few times felt awkward, to say the least.

you yourself weren’t really one to strike up conversations with random people, and considering he was part of the group you had to dance for, you were afraid of slipping up and losing your job. but, eventually, he talked to you. after that, things were easier—you’d joke around, take breaks to go eat something, help each other and sometimes even stop what you were working on to choreograph something together; just the two of you.

it was only a month or two later that you caught yourself looking at him in a less than friendly but rather heated way… and much to your surprise, you slowly started noticing his own lustful glances—lips red from biting them and hooded eyes tracking your every movement. but, alas, you weren’t one for first moves.

considering all of this, you weren’t surprised at the position you were currently in; on the floor of the practice room, legs hooked around his as you sat between them, mingi’s lips against the side of your neck, one arm around your waist and the other with his hand inside your panties (your shorts had been discarded long ago, along with his shirt) as he faced you to lthe mirror, forcing you to watch his every movement.

he swiped his middle finger through your folds, gathering some arousal and then slowly circling your swollen clit. a breathy whimper escaped your lips as you threw your head back on his shoulder. the combined sensation of his finger around your nub and his lips kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck sent another wave of wetness gushing out of you.

“eyes on the mirror, doll,” he moved his head up to whisper right into your ear with that husky voice of his, gently biting down on your earlobe. he removed his hand from your pussy for a moment, letting your legs down to slip your panties off before hooking them over his thighs again. you were practically dripping as he exposed you. “i want you to see what i’m doing, watch how your beautiful little body reacts to me.”

reluctantly, you nodded and pulled yourself off his shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the arousal smeared between your thighs. a moan escaped your lips as he gave your clit a particularly firm tug, his ring and middle finger pressed against the skin on either side of it and pinching gently. you tried holding back your following moans, but the quiver of your thighs gave you away. though, you felt better knowing you weren’t the only enjoying this so much, his erection strained against his pants and poked at your ass. 

his movements against your heat were slow but precise, eliciting pretty little whimpers and moans from you. the hand wrapped around the front of your waist moved up, featherlight touches leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he gently brushes his fingers over the fabric of your bra. then he nudge the straps down your shoulder and let the bra cups fall, his hand immediately going to tweak at your nipples. 

“f-fuck…” you cursed quietly, trying your best to stop your eyes from fluttering shirt from all the pleasure and keep your eyes on the mirror as he asked.

two of his large fingers circled your entrance, massaging it before slowly pushing in. jaw slack at the stinging stretch, you watched as they disappeared into your vagina, breath stuttering when he curved them just enough to brush against the right spot. your hand snaked it’s way behind his head, tugging on his hair gently.

“oh, look, doll,” you heard him groan behind you, feeling his smirk against your neck, “look at how well you take my fingers…”

and with that he slowly began pumping his fingers in and out of you, digits firmly pressing against the spongey spot inside you each time, increasing his speed more and more as his thumb continue circling your clit. he watched your face in the mirror, analysing each twitch of your muscles and each flutter of your lashes to perfectly adjust his movements. in any other context, you perhaps would’ve appreciated how perceptive he was. but right now you wanted nothing more than to savour the feeling of his fingers, anticipating how his cock would feel in you. 

before you knew it, the familiar knot of an orgasm began tightening in your abdomen, your body squirming.

“shit, mingi…” his name tumbled out of your mouth in a drawl and his movement stopped for a moment.l before he continued at a more rigorous pace. you could’ve sworn you felt his erection twitch behind you. 

“say that again,” he growled, “say my name.”

the rough scratch of his voice made you impossibly wetter as you obeyed quickly. “mingi, o-oh…”

after that it didn’t take much longer for you to snap, coming down hard on his fingers, muscles jerking and back arching as his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your noises.

“keep it down, baby, someone might walk in and see you at my mercy.”

he pulled his fingers out of you and caressed your thighs. it didn’t take to long for you to calm down from your high, chest heaving with deep breaths as he whispered praises in your ear. despite the fact you just had an orgasm, you knew you still wanted more.

“i-i need… i need you,” you tried, face flushed as you hinted the best you could.

“hm?” he chuckled. “and what exactly do you need of me?”

with a huff, you grinded yourself back against him, against his cock, but he moved his hands to grip your hips firmly and stop you. 

“that won’t do,” he shook his head. “i want you to use your words, doll. can you do that for me, baby?”

a moment of silence passed between you. it was awkward or anything, a teasing grin on his face as he looked you in the eyes through the mirror, your brows furrowed before you sighed.

“god, mingi, i need your cock in me.”

he grinned, hands tugging your shirt and bra off before sitting back on his knees and turning you around. mingi leaned over you, cupping your chin before kissing you with a bruising hardness. once he broke the kiss, a malicious spark shined in his sharp eyes.

“anything for my doll.”

network. @cromernet

[remlionheart]

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

Marinade

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ when i first decided that i wanted to write some yuuji angst, i had a v vague idea in my head of what it might look like, but when i tell you that this fic took me for a ride, i mean it. angel boy yuuji itadori finds himself mourning his 22nd birthday rather than celebrating it. sitting alone at a bar, overwhelmed by grief when he's suddenly greeted by the one part of his past that doesn't hurt to look at. 4.9k words. hurt/comfort, angst, smut, fluff, slice of life, shonen, literally everything and anything going on here. i was crying and smiling and rooting for these characters and i'm not sure that i'll ever emotionally recover from writing this, but i'm really happy w the outcome so lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡ (also shoutout to my girl @bratbby333 for always being my biggest hype-woman and proofreading for me when i've looked at a fic for too long and start to hate it) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

now playing: marinade by dope lemon

Yuuji hadn't seen you since middle school.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He remembered you as the girl who had pretty handwriting and a serious affinity for the color blue. The girl who would leave pastel origami hearts on his desk without ever saying why. The girl who'd hide away in the library during lunch instead of eating with the rest of the class. The girl who he'd watch on the bus ride home with a sinking feeling in his stomach, catching the way your eyes glossed over each time the driver stopped in front of your house.

He learned how much you loved to read and write that year. Glancing at you from across the study hall room, secretly jotting down what number was printed along the spine of your book so that he could get you the next one in the series. He'd leave it on your desk before class started, the same way you did with his origami hearts. Never saying a word about it.

He watched you fill countless journals, your face always so concentrated as you poured your thoughts into them. He’d stop by the shopping plaza near his house after school every time he noticed that you’d reached the last page, spending his allowance to make sure there was a new one waiting for you the next morning. Each one he gave you, a different shade of blue.

But it wasn’t until the last day of eighth grade that he finally mustered up the courage to break the not-so-silent-silence the two of you had been sharing for the last 6 months. He sat down next to you, introducing himself even though it went without saying. His eyebrows furrowed a bit when you wordlessly slipped out an earbud and handed it to him. A rare, but visible smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He held it in his palm for a moment, his eyes drifting along your face as he brought it to his ear, letting the tangled white cord tether the two of you together.

He’d never heard the song before, but he still remembered thinking how fitting it was. Dreamy and melodic - just like you. The singer's voice was full of raw sincerity, adding another layer of atmospheric haze to the already heady beat while the chorus gradually filled the space between you.

He didn't have the right words to explain it at the time, but he felt lucky as he watched you stare out the window that day. Lucky to know how pretty you looked when the sunlight caught the side of your face. Lucky to know which fantasy novels you liked to spend hours losing yourself in. Lucky to know what type of music you listened to when you were deep in thought. Lucky, just to be sitting next to you.

His heart jumped around in his chest when your eyes met his again. Both of you exchanging the same somber smile as you realized what road you were on.

He handed his half of the headphones back to you, secretly relieved at how calm you still seemed despite the fact that your stop was next.

“That song,” he hesitated, the lyrics still swirling through his mind. “what was it –”

But his question came to an abrupt end as the bus began to brake, a new and overwhelming warmth dancing through his veins when he noticed how close you suddenly were to him.

His pupils doubled in size, his breath catching in his throat while you leaned in carefully, pressing the softest kiss against his boyish cheek.

"Have a good summer, Yuuji." you whispered, grabbing your backpack off the floor.

His hand rested where your lips had been, his gaze following you off of the bus. You made it about halfway up your driveway before pausing to look back at him over your shoulder, two lingering smiles blurring past one another as the driver hurried on with her route.

The next two months were filled with sunshine and soccer practice for him. Bike rides and camping trips and basketball courts. His days were usually full, but no matter what he was doing or where he was going, there was one song that was always on the tip of his tongue:

♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊ ﾟ“Do you want me? Just how I am? Do you need me and where I stand?”

One song that would forever remind him of you:

"Let's go steady, let's make a plan. Marinade on that for a little while." ⋆｡ ♪ ₊♬ ﾟ。

And he did.

He marinaded on the infatuation he felt for you the rest of that entire summer.

When August arrived that year and brought everyone back for high school, he was ready.

There were stories he wanted to tell you, questions he wanted to ask you. Playlists he wanted to make with you. Books he'd found while thrifting that he wanted to give to you. Daydreams he had of roaming the halls and laughing with you. Visions of bringing his lunch into the library so he could eat with you. He couldn't wait to hear about your summer. Couldn't wait to catch up with you. Couldn't wait to see you.

Unfortunately for you both though, life had other, much darker plans in store for the pink-haired boy who just wanted to carry around your books for you and hold your hand during passing period.

He was called out of class early on the first day. Forced to leave the building before he even had the chance to see you as he frantically tracked down the nearest shuttle and rushed across town to get to the hospital. His grandpa’s health had been on a slow decline, but after his most recent fall, it had suddenly started to plummet.

Yuuji missed the majority of that week, dedicating all of his time to the man who had essentially raised him. He would bring him food and sit with him for hours even though he was mostly incoherent. He’d tell him about his day and leave flowers by his bedside. He'd watch reruns of old game shows with him that they used to watch when Yuuji was little, completely ignoring the nurses who would say things like, "You need to give yourself a break.”

The hospital staff tried their best to get him to take a day off. To go back to school and live his own life, but Yuuji just couldn’t. His grandpa was the only family he'd ever really had. There was no way he was going to leave him. He ditched the comfort of his bedroom and began sleeping on the cramped hospital futon next to the grey-haired man, teaching himself what each machine hooked up to him was responsible for and what vitals they monitored. He’d sometimes leave throughout the day, but it was only for a couple of hours at most. He'd return with more flowers and books to read to him. By the third week of school, he'd missed almost every single one of his classes, but he didn’t care. His priorities were firm.

Yuuji stayed by his side - day in and day out, until the very end.

When he woke up to the sound of erratic beeping and codes that he didn't understand being called out by nurses, he knew. He knew in his heart that this was it. Amongst the chaos were two sets of shaking hands reaching for each other, his grandpa's last words hanging heavily in the space between them,

“Yuuji... You're a strong kid, try your best to help others, okay?”

He remembered thinking at that moment that there couldn’t be a worse feeling. That he couldn’t possibly have anything else left to lose. He was only 15 and he was now officially all on his own as he watched the only parental figure he had let out his last breath of air.

He had no family, no future, no chance.

Fate was a cruel and calculating thing though. A few days after the funeral, Yuuji discovered that he did have a future. One that was irreversibly sealed the minute he stepped foot into Jujutsu High. He had to let go of everything he'd known in exchange for the damning task of becoming a vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. He had to trade in his mundane role of being a high school freshman for the daunting responsibility of becoming a first-year sorcerer. And arguably the hardest thing of all, he had to give up the simple pleasure of sharing a set of tangled headphones with you to try and save a world that didn't truly care about him.

There was no room for normalcy anymore. This was his new life and it was ending, one day at a time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He sat at a nearly vacant bar by himself, staring down the empty glass in front of him, watching the ice melt as he ran a shaky hand along the back of his neck.

It was 4 o'clock and he was only one of two people here this early. The lights and music were still being adjusted by the workers. Cups being stocked and coolers being filled for the inevitable Saturday-night rush that would come in the next few hours. His goal was to be absolutely obliterated by then - to already be on his way back home before the swarm of college students took over.

He paused, noticing the calendar hanging by the craft beer list in front of him. His heart stuttered a bit as he blinked back at the date. No wonder he'd been feeling so reminiscent lately.

He leaned over the counter hoping to find the bartender who'd poured his first drink, but to no avail.

He grabbed his glass, sucking down the very last drop of whiskey it had to offer, trying desperately to drown out the realization that today was his 22nd birthday and the people who should be here with him weren't.

Almost every friend he'd made over the last ten years had been ripped away from him. They were scattered memories. Familiar voices that he did his best to hold onto. Faces, names, deaths that followed him everywhere he went.

Middle school and the innocence of just wanting to hold a pretty girl's hand while she walked down the hallway were long gone. He was an adult now. A very tired and traumatized adult.

He peered around the corner again, half-tempted to jump over the bar and pour himself another drink when the stereo kicked on, an overwhelming wave of pure, deep blue nostalgia flooding over him without warning.

His back straightened, his eyes suddenly darting towards the speaker as the lyrics drifted across his skin, causing every hair on his body to stand up at once.

"She wanted to die by a river. She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away, so that when she's dreamin', she can watch the tree line fall away." ⋆｡ ♪

It was the same hazy melody that he'd spent an entire summer listening to on repeat. He still knew every word, every beat. It was muscle memory the way his fingertips began to drum along the counter when a bartender finally emerged from the back.

"Sorry, do you need a –"

Time stilled, the glass nearly slipping from his hand as your gaze caught his.

"Yuuji?"

Despite how much you'd changed since the last time he saw you, your voice was somehow just as soft as he remembered it being.

He stared back at you in quiet disbelief, guilt quickly settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how fucking strange and unexpected this all must feel for you too.

From your perspective, he'd spent all of 8th grade trying to befriend you only to up and leave without even saying goodbye. And now, 7 years later - he was at your work, looking back at you like you were an actual angel, and forgetting every word he knew.

Your eyes stayed locked on his for another moment, both of you studying the person in front of you before you finally let out a shaky breath and smiled at him.

"Here," You offered, suddenly feeling the need to soothe your own nerves too. "On the house."

He tried to tell you that he could pay for it, but it was too late. You were already pouring two shots and motioning for him to put his wallet away.

"Okay, fine. But..." There was a glimmer in his eye as he pulled his glass away from yours. "What are we toasting to?"

The smile he gave you felt like a warm hug. One that you didn't realize you needed until you had it again. "Oh," You stammered, trying to ignore the blood that was rushing to your cheeks. "What about... To old friends?"

He nodded, still wearing the same expression as your drinks lightly knocked together. "To old friends."

He couldn't help but grin again at the little shiver that swept across your body as you finished yours.

Your hair was longer, your features a bit more mature, but your mannerisms were all the same. You were still the girl that was made up of mid-day sunlight, handbound books, and shades of blue that were too pretty to exist in this world.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and slid it to him, once again ignoring the credit card he tried to hand you. "Yuuji, relax." you leaned against the counter, resting your head in your hands so that you were eye-level with him. "They're not gonna go bankrupt over a $2 IPA, I promise."

"If you say so."  

You both exchanged the same small smile, his finger lightly running along the counter. "So," he cleared his throat, completely unsure of where to start. "How've you been?"

It was a loaded question, maybe even a dumb question considering how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He really did want to know how you'd been. What you'd been up to. What type of things you'd been writing about. What your Spotifty playlists looked like. What you did on your days off. He wanted to know everything. All of it.

"Well," you exhaled, trying to find an easy way to condense the last seven years of your life. "My parents..." your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that you'd never gotten the chance to tell him why you used to dread your old bus route so much. "My parents finally got divorced..."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry -"

“No,” You said swiftly, not wanting him to feel bad for asking. "It was more of a relief than anything. They used to fight, a lot. My mom wasn't always the nicest when she drank... It probably should've happened way sooner to be honest."

His breathing slowed as memories of you with tears in your eyes walking up your driveway smashed through his mind. He'd promised himself that he would ask you about it one day, but he had no idea it'd be this much later on. He'd wanted to talk to you about it as kids. Wanted to know what scared you so much about going home, but he didn't know how. It was the reason why he left journals on your desk. The reason why he never let you go without the next book in your series.

For everything he couldn't say, he tried to show. But he'd failed you on both accounts the day he disappeared.

"My parents separated my -" you paused, eyes dragging to his as you corrected yourself. "our graduation year."

He nodded, doing his best to digest the thought of you walking down the aisle in a cap and gown with the weight of your parents' downfall on your shoulders.

"But, after that," you smiled slightly. “I applied to college and got accepted. Started working here. Got my own apartment. And I don't know...” you shrugged, "I think in a weird way, things happened the way they were supposed to. It was like everything needed to fall apart before it got better, you know?"

He smiled back at you, your last sentence lingering in the space between you as he reached for your hand. He probably wouldn't have understood that sentiment a year ago, but watching your eyes widen while your fingers slowly tangled into his, he knew exactly what you meant now.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there..." His thumb brushed against the side of your hand, steadying himself as he let 15-year-old him and 22-year-old him come together to say what they had both been holding onto for so long. "I didn't want to leave. I just -"

Your heart swelled in your chest, watching him blink back tears he wasn't prepared to shed. "Life got really hard for a really long time for me too. But, whenever I felt myself drifting... I thought of you. Thought of the way you'd glance at me from over your book during class. Thought of the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. I thought of you... all the time. And it was like, no matter how dark things got, it reminded me that life could be good, because it was at one point. So..."

Your hand tightened around his, two sets of glossy eyes now staring back at each other as he forced himself to say what he should've years ago. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but... I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

You were dizzy with emotion. Swimming through feelings that you'd kept buried for nearly the last decade. The thoughts you'd only been brave enough to write down. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again and again and again until neither one of you had any air left in your lungs.

Your mouth opened and then closed, your body saying more than you were capable of with how desperately you were holding onto him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Didn't have time to think or care about the repercussions of your impulsiveness.

"Hey Mai," You called out, "I'm really not feeling well. Think I'm gonna go home."

Yuuji's head was shaking no, but the surprised smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was saying otherwise. "What're you doing?" he whisper-shouted, watching you run around the bar to grab his hand again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mai yelled from the back, but it was too late.

You and Yuuji were already gone, practically sprinting alongside each other, laughing as you booked it across the parking lot.

"First the free beer and now this?"

"They won't go bankrupt over me missing one day." You winked. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You may have been leading the way, but he was still the athlete between the two of you, purposefully slowing himself down to not be right on your heels. But when he noticed you starting to pant as the road curved into an upward slope, he reached out for you, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Come here." he knelt down, positioning himself so that you could easily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He carried you piggy-back style up the hill, the sun fading into an array of pink and orange as you pointed out every bookstore around campus, explaining which ones were your favorites and why. Promising to get matcha with him tomorrow at a local coffee shop you passed. Asking him about his time at Jujutsu High and trying to wrap your mind around what little he was able to tell you as he swore that he'd fill you in on the full story when the time was right. You caught him up on what he'd missed the last three years of high school and how your college classes had been going. You talked about libraries and ghosts and laughed about how in 7th grade he'd joined the occult club just because he thought it'd be an easy after-school credit.

By the time you'd finally reached the spot you'd wanted to show him, the moon had almost completely replaced the sun. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and your hands were full of a mixture of different flowers that he'd picked for you along the way.

"This is..." he trailed off, watching the sky shift into a deep blend of blue and silver. "Beautiful. How'd you even find this place?"

It was an abandoned park surrounded by overgrown trees that overlooked the city, only one rusted swing set left to its name. The hike you had to endure just to find it had more than likely been the cause of its demise, trekking up here with a backpack was hard enough, let alone a stroller.

"I kinda found it by accident." You shrugged. "I was working on an art project and needed a good view of the skyline. I looked up a bunch of different places online, but then I saw this spot and just knew."

Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, sweat trickling down his neck from the late-summer heat as the two of you sat in the grass, his arm gently wrapping around your waist.

There had been so many times you'd sat in this exact same spot by yourself, wondering what the odds were that you were both somehow looking up at the same star.

Your head rested on his shoulder, a warm gust of air swirling around you as you both looked out into the distance, watching the way the stars faded into the Tokyo lights.

"Hey, Yuuji?" You twirled a blade of grass between your fingers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"You promise, right?"

"Hm?" He could hear the concern in your voice, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

"You promise that... you're not leaving again?"

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere. And if I do," His eyes returned to yours, his free hand attentively resting under your chin. "I'm taking you with me."

You nodded, warmth washing over you as he traced along your jawline, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your fears were lost to his touch. Your worries dissolving into the sincerity of his voice. Your need for reassurance wholeheartedly met when his hand cupped your cheek and his lips finally caught yours. Seven years' worth of pent-up feelings pouring out between the two of you, hands roaming and little moans slipping out between breaths while you tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He was gentle but eager. Soft but secure. Perfect, in every way.

He hovered over you, easing you onto the grass as he made a makeshift pillow out of his hoodie for you to rest your head on.

You smiled as his lips drifted from your mouth to your neck, his palm delicately traveling up your shirt, pulling your bra to the side while he helped slide your tank-top up over your head. He kissed your collarbones, whispering sweet little praises into your skin. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

He rested a hand under your back, steadying you as his tongue flickered across your chest. He took his time, making sure to give each nipple the same amount of attention, still humming things like, "the prettiest girl I've ever seen" while his hand traced over your hip.

He tugged at the waistline of your shorts, looking up at you through his lashes as he began to leave featherlight kisses along the inside of your thigh, his blood racing at the sounds you were suddenly making.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whimpered out a broken "yes", practically dripping when his fingers spread you apart. He watched you writhe beneath him, drawing slow but firm circles around you. Trying not to lose himself to the way your legs were already shaking for him.

"Yuuji," you whined. "I -" his mouth was ghosting your center, his fingers still playing with your clit while he held you in place. "I n - need you." your voice was heady, lost somewhere in the clouds the faster he went. "I wanna f - feel you, so bad."

"Yeah?" He smiled, his breath still fanning across your core as his digits prodded carefully at your entrance. He groaned at how beautifully your walls swallowed him. "I wanna feel you too."

Your head lulled back, eyes pointed at the sky while your hand tangled into his pink hair. His mouth was warm and heavenly, his tongue running uppp and dowwnnn your center, saliva mixing with slick while his fingers plunged into you.

"Oh, fuck."

He only went deeper the louder you got, flattening his tongue against you with just the right pressure to keep you saying his name. His ring and middle finger hitting spots you'd never been able to reach yourself. You were clenching around him, your thighs locking around his head as you rocked against his tongue.

"Yuuji - you're gonna make me -" he thought it was adorable the way you struggled to get more than two words out at a time. "Fuck, I -"

"Mhmm, just like that."

He was in the same daze you were, sliding in and out of you feverishly until he finally felt the blissful release of your walls spasming around him. Your body suddenly unable to hold it in any longer as you gave him the privilege of really tasing you.

"Oh my god," he moaned, faithfully lapping up every bit of you he could get, only pulling away when you started begging for him.

"Yuuji -" It was needy and light-headed. "Come here, come here. Please."

The way he lifted his head up, smiling at you with your cum dripping down his chin made something inside you ache.

You pulled him towards you, desperately wrapping your legs around his waist as he began undoing the buttons on his pants. He kissed you, again and again and again, using it as a pleasant distraction while he wriggled himself free.

He took a breath, both of you watching in blitzed out awe as he lined himself up with you. "I love you." he whispered, your eyes widening from the blend of his words and the feeling of his tip slowly entering you. "Always have."

His hair brushed against your forehead as he parted your lips with his tongue, your nails digging into his neck with his first full thrust. You were so tight and warm around him.

He tried to ease into you, encouraging you while also making sure you were comfortable. His voice sweet as honey as he asked you things like, "Is that okay, baby?" and "Aw, you like when I go deep like that, huh?"

Your gaze locked with his, your eyebrows knitting together the faster his rhythm became.

You'd thought about this moment before. Thought about what it might feel like, but nothing could've prepared you for the way your heart would race at the sound of him moaning, "You're doing so good for me." The way he'd hold you, looking back at you with stars in his eyes as he filled every inch of you.

"Yuuji -"

"Let it out, baby. S'okay." He whispered, his hand reaching for yours. "I've got you."

Your vision was blurred by the feeling of his tip meeting your cervix, warm summer air brushing against your skin as you reached your breaking point.

"I love you." The words left your mouth so fast you barely had time to register them, but then... they wouldn't stop. It was the only phrase you remembered how to say. The only emotion you remembered how to feel. "I love you." you whimpered again, feeling yourself tighten around him as your confession became more frantic. "Oh - mygod, Yuuji. I love you. I love you. I love - you."

His movements were suddenly beyond his control, his body completely succumbing to the grip of yours. "Fuck, baby - I -" He didn't know if he should pull out. Didn't know if he could pull out. His head was everywhere, his mouth dropping open the longer he watched you.

Your legs locked around him in heady reassurance. "Mm'mm, d - don't stop." You panted. "Cum with me."

It was a sentence he'd only ever thought he'd be lucky enough to hear you say in his dreams.

His hips stilled after one more thrust, your walls holding him tight as he began to twitch inside you. His forehead pressed against yours, his arms struggling to keep him propped up.

You exchanged the same exhausted smirk, leaning up to kiss him while he carefully pulled out of you. A blend of fluids spilling out onto the grass beneath you as he laid by your side with his forearm over his face, trying to regain his composure.

There was a calm silence that settled between you, the both of you looking up at the stars before you rolled over to reach for your shorts, letting him catch his breath while you dug something out of the back pocket.

"Here." You said, unraveling a tangled pair of headphones and handing him one.

His eyes widened with the same curiosity they had 7 years ago as he held it to his ear, your head resting on his chest while a song he knew all too well flowed through the small speakers connecting you. A smile splitting across his face as he held you closer.

"You know, I think you were right." he exhaled, running light fingertips along your arm. "Everything did have to fall apart before it got better."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[angelicsoka]

SARA, l. hughes

word count | 1.3k

pairings | luke hughes x fem!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x reader, platonic!jack hughes x reader

summary | luke’s girlfriend has suffered in silence for too long, and luke noticed the warning signs too late

warnings | HEAVY themes of suicide and suicidal ideation, mentions of self-harm and depression, underage drinking and smoking, mentions of blood. ANGST ANGST ANGST, open ending, this is not a happy fic, luke is fucking oblivious. based on the song sara by we three. no use of "y/n". lowercase intended

a/n | this is my first time posting in here so i'm still figuring out how this all works lol. this is NOT proofread. also this is probably the darkest thing i have ever really written.

little sara, you're a diamond in the rough

and i know that you don't hear this all enough

and i'm sure that's why your wrists have tons of cuts

and i'm sure that's why you think you're not enough

fingers traced over the faded scars and onto the raised ones, the urge more than she can handle. but she deserved this. she deserved to feel so shitty, she was shitty. she ruined everything good she had, her relationships and job. a repeated process, be happy for a while and then fuck everything up. “who would care if she fucked one more thing?” was the thought that ran through her head, crimson covering the sink.

your mind can only think about the things it shouldn't

your brain is filled with thoughts of wishing that ya didn't

little sara, perk your ears up, try to listen

but she can't hear a sound because she's locked in a prison

the room was loud, but the noise sounded so far away as she dazed off. she was brought back to reality by luke swinging his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. the sudden movement made her quietly hiss as her arm brushed against him, the fresh wounds in the back of her mind. she forced a smile on her face, looking to luke who gently kissed her forehead. he offered her a beer, to which she took, ignoring the concerned look on quinn’s face. she had been drinking all night  but luke didn't have to know that. it slowed the thoughts, so how could it be a bad thing?

luke began to chat with his brothers and their friends, oblivious to the smile that had dropped from her face. oblivious to the fact that she was practically chugging the beer in hopes to stop the horrible thoughts that had begun to invade her brain once more.

and she was oblivious to the concerned looks of her boyfriend and friends as she abruptly got up, walking outside. she sat down, pulling the cigarette from its box, lighting it. she took a drag, jumping when a voice spoke up:

“you’re killing yourself, you know that?” she whipped her head around to see quinn standing there with his hands in his pockets. “does luke know you smoke?”

“why do you care?” she snapped, turning to look back at the yard. it was quiet, crickets chirping being the only thing making noise. she ignored quinn as he sat beside her, taking another drag. she held back her tears, not wanting to break down in front of her boyfriend’s oldest brother.

“he loves you, you know? the way he looks at you says it all. you're good for him. i don’t think i've seen him this happy in a long time.” she forced a small smile at quinn’s attempt to comfort her. he was lying, he had to be, because who could love a fuck up like her?

all your friends they wanna smoke 'cause it's a friday

but you've been smoking straight probably since last sunday

i know you know you shouldn't say that you are okay

but you still look 'em in the eye and lie then go to use your ashtray

she was high, but when was she not? the boys passed around the blunt, each taking drags from it. they were joking around, jack and trevor wrestling beside her. luke held her close, his fingers gently running down her arm. she ignored the burning sensation that occurred when luke’s fingers accidentally brushed over her wound, a smile plastered on her face. luke seemed to be the only who didn’t notice that the smile didn’t meet her eyes. she huffed out a laugh at a joke made by cole, settling her head against luke’s shoulder. for a moment, she felt happy; carefree. 

that all ended when that singular thought crossed her mind: they hate you. such a simple thought, but she felt as though she had been sucker punched. she subtly shifted off of luke, who seemingly didn’t notice. she twiddled with her thumbs, ignoring the feeling of someone looking at her. she felt jack nudge her, handing her the blunt. she accepted it, unable to really meet his eyes. “you okay?” quinn mouthed to her when she met his eyes. 

“yeah.” she lied through her teeth, averting her eyes and grabbing the ashtray.

little sara, last night, you got it bad

in that moment, you could barely even

add up two or three reasons why you're glad

and i guess that's why you grabbed your pen and pad

it was 6:14, and you could barely even read

all the words you'd written down when it was time for you to leave

your phone was on the ground and you could barely hear it ring

couldn't even hear a sound, couldn't feel a single thing

nights were the worst. being alone in her thoughts led to serious consequences, this night no different. she did what she was suppose to, all the coping skills she had learned. still, she couldn’t come up with any reason to stick around, which is why she now sat at her desk, scribbling rapidly. she couldn’t hardly read the words on the paper, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks as she practically destroyed her desk in search of the blade. the distance sound of her phone ringing stopped her for a moment, the contact name and picture for luke clear on her phone. she pushed the second-guessing thoughts aside, muting the call.

luke swore when she once again did not pick up, the text that started this now open: i love you, lukey. i hope you can forgive me. he swore to himself, angry that he had missed the signs. as he thought about it, the signs were so clear, how could he have not noticed? he begged for jack to drive faster, dialing her number once more. luke wiped his tears as jack sped up, praying for her to be okay. he hoped he would make it in time, to be there when she needed him most.

now it's 6:15, and you're on your knees

blood is on your sleeves, and your lungs won't breathe

eyes are watering, body's shivering

and you're wondering what is happening

now it's 6:23, and they're on their knees

begging "jesus please, can you make her breathe?"

'cause they finally see what was happening

underneath their nose and underneath your sleeves 

she sat against her bed, sobs racking through her body. her chest was tight, her breaths short as she began to lose consciousness. she began to shiver uncontrollably, curling into herself to create any kind of warmth. she looked up when the door was kicked in, her vision blurring. her eyes fluttered close as luke ran to her side, her life slowly leaving her body. 

“get something to stop the bleeding!” luke yelled to jack who was frozen under the doorframe. he snapped out of it, grabbing the blanket that was balled up on her bed. he began to put pressure on her wounds as luke pleaded with her to wake up. they continued this until the paramedics arrived, luke hesitant to leave her side. for the first time in a long time, luke cried into his brother’s shoulder. and he swore to himself that he would never miss the signs again.

she can barely see the pavement

she can barely read the signs

people think she's complicated

but never wanna look inside

'cause she's a little too r-rated

and they're a little too damn blind

she's just looking for her angels

but they're a little hard to find

[xxoxobree]

Late Nitez

Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader.

Contents: You and Miles Stay up way past your bedtime on FaceTime

WARNINGS: Like one cuss word 🤷🏽‍♀️

It had become a hilarious routine for you and Miles now; every night at 8:30 after a long day of school and homework, you would eagerly open up the FaceTime app and call each other to talk about the most ridiculous things, really, until you both fell asleep, snoring in unison. And tonight was no different.

The blue light from Miles' phone illuminated his face as he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating the meaning of life (or what he wanted for breakfast). He listened to your not-so-quiet breaths coming through the phone, bringing him a sense of comfort and the occasional laugh . It had been a while since you two actually spoke, and you were probably drooling on your pillow by now. But just to make sure, he decided to break the silence with a burst of obnoxious energy.

"Yo, you there?" he shouted, probably waking his parents in the process. Miles couldn't resist. You were in that awkward state between sleep and wakefulness when his voice jolted you back to consciousness, making you snort in surprise. Letting out a little groan (or was it a snore?), you sleepily responded with a soft "mhm". You yawned wide enough to swallow a small planet before speaking again, your voice still laced with drowsiness and the remnants of a dream about your favorite actor. "I'm here."

"Oh, hey love," Miles chuckled.

You let out another yawn, your eyes still closed, listening to his sweet voice. "Hey."

Miles rolled his eyes. "Is that all your sleepy ass has to say? Hey?" A smile tugged at his lips as he lifted his phone to his face, waiting for your reply. His smile grew bigger as he saw your sleeping figure, the light from the phone lighting up your perfect face.

"Miles, I'm barely awake. Are you taking screenshots?" you said groggily, using your hand to cover your face as you heard the snapping noises.

"Awe mama, come on, you look so cute," Miles responded. Another moment of silence passed before Miles switched apps, opening Instagram and posting the screenshots he just took of you two to his story, tagging you and captioning it, "I miss you."

Your phone buzzed, making you peek an eye and see that he tagged you in his story. You opened the notification and giggled. "Really, Miles? I miss you too."

Miles felt his stomach turn at your words, his breath picking up. A slight anxiety and guilt filled him. Was it wrong for him to be in love with his best friend? Miles' eyes flickered back on his screen to your face and the way the phone light highlighted all of his favorite features of your face, as if teasing him almost. He could look at you forever, even if you were asleep. Would you feel the same if he told you the truth? He thought to himself.

"Miles?" you called out to him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"You're quiet, you mad at me?" you asked.

Miles took a deep breath, preparing himself up for the big reveal. "Mad nahh," he muttered under his breath, hoping it would go unnoticed. "But you wanna know what's up?"

"What?" you asked, awaiting his answer.

"I'm head over heels, babyyyyy!" he sang out, trying to mask his nerves with a touch of musical theatrics. You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his impromptu song.

"Seriously?"

"Yup," Miles replied, his voice cracking slightly as the effort of keeping his eyes open and staying up late just to talk to you caught up with him. "Wanna hear something else?"

"Sure, Miles," you said , your curiosity now piqued.

"I've got a major crush on you and I love you," he blurted out, finally releasing the words that had been building up inside him for weeks. The room fell silent as he anxiously awaited your response. "Miles..." he waited for your next words, his doubts starting to creep in. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. Maybe you'd think he was a total weirdo now. But then, you said it.

"I feel the same way. I love you too."

It took every ounce of self-control for Miles not to squeal like a little girl. "Uh, cool," he managed to mutter, desperately trying to compose himself.

"Cool? That's all you're gonna say, Morales, after I just confessed my love?" you teased, unable to contain your laughter.

He joined in on the laughter. "So, uh, will you be my girlfriend, y/n?"

"Absolutely, Miles. I'd love to."

Copyright © 2023 Breeandhermunches. All rights reserved.

[not-magdi]

A Christmas in Monaco

Summary: Visiting a Christmas market with your boy

Words: around 860

Warnings: None, it's pure fluff <3

A/N

Sorry I haven't been able to write about him for so long, the last few weeks were really stressful. But now I have the time to write more again, hurray!!

Hope you enjoy it, love you guys,

Magdi <3

Monaco during the Christmas season was honestly something magical. Christmas decorations hanging from all the expensive shops around the city and fairy lights decorating the streets make it look like the picture from a Christmas card.

Though nothing can compare to the big Christmas market in the centre of the city, the little red and white huts lining up one after another, each one of them offering different kinds of Christmas treats to enjoy.

It looked like the biggest cliché, but that's exactly why you were so excited about it.

You were a sucker for listening to famous Christmas songs blasting from loudspeakers while warming your cold fingers on a hot cup of punch.

You have been talking Lando's ear off since the start of November about going to the market. He found your excitement about Christmas absolutely adorable, the way your whole face would light up when you would start talking about the holidays made his insides feel all warm and fussy.

Now that the season is finally over and you and Lando are both home in Monaco, you are currently dragging Lando out of the house to do, what you've been talking about for weeks.

"Ok, babe slow down, the market is not going to run away." Lando teased you, chuckling as you loosened the grip on his arm.

Gasping, you turn around, "Lando Norris, how dare you, you know how long I've waited for this. You have no right to tease me here."

Laughing even more at your antics, he grabs your hand and pulls it into his pocket to keep you warm.

Hand in hand, the two of you arrive at the market and are greeted by the familiar sound of "Last Christmas" coming from every corner.

Your grip on Lando's hand tightened as you dragged him to the nearest stand to get something to drink.

Now, with two hot mugs warming your hands, the two of you started to explore the area a bit.

"Baby, we still need to get a Christmas present for Max and P, they invited us, I want to give them something."

"Yeah, I know. Do you have any idea what that could be?"

Shaking your head, you started to search through all the different kinds of stands, buying a few things for yourself here and there too.

Lando excused himself for a moment, stating he found a little gift for Max, which was a lie. He found a little silver necklace with a red Christmas ornament on it. Lando wanted to give you the necklace on Christmas Eve, but he knew he would probably give it to you as soon as you were home again.

Meanwhile, you continued to browse a bit, until you stopped as something caught your eye.

You couldn't grab your purse fast enough to buy two little Formula One car ornaments.

Now, with the ornaments in your bag, you made your way to the place where you and Lando agreed to meet again.

You saw Lando already waiting for you, his beanie pulled down to his eyes to protect himself from the cold. But not even that could stop the cold from leaving his nose and cheeks with a rosy blush.

You awed at how cute he looked before making your way over to him. Looking up from his phone, Lando started to smile as he saw you standing before him.

He opened his arms for you to cuddle yourself into his warm embrace.

"Did you find something?" You could hear Lando's muffled voice asking you.

"Yeah wait, I need to show you!" Lando chuckled at your excitement as you hurriedly unpacked what was in your bag.

"Ok ok, close your eyes!"

He did as you told him and held his hand out. You placed the little car into his hand and told him to open his eyes.

Opening his eyes, he looked down, then up into your eyes again with an unreadable expression.

"How dare you."

Raising your eyebrow, you looked at him confused, "What do you mean, how dare I, it's a F1 car!"

"It's a Ferrari!"

"Oh, come on Lando."

"I don't care what you say, this thing is not going on our tree."

Looking him dead in the eyes, you exclaim in a calm voice, "Try me bitch."

The silence between you two, was soon broken as the two of you couldn't keep your little act up anymore.

Laughing and giggling like two teenagers, you made a last round around the market, taking a few photos to post later and meeting a few sweet fans who gave Lando bracelets and asked for a few autographs.

You didn't mind it one bit, always finding it sweet how Lando's eyes sparkled when he interacted with his fans.

With freezing hands, you were back at your apartment, limbs tangled under three thick, fluffy blankets.

Kevin alone at home, was playing in the background as you and Lando giggled and shared stories like you just met. The movie was long forgotten as you two were completely lost in each other.

You couldn't wait to spend Christmas time with him, with your Lando, your soulmate.

[trashcanfanfics]

I see you're taking Jason Todd requests?👀 Hello, I'm new to the fandom btw! So... I thought of a scenario. What if the reader and Jason is on the edge of asking each other out, and he's on patrol one night, finding it quite boring, and the reader send him their playlist... only it was the reader's... ✨️spicy✨️ playlist?👀 As in, Arctic Monkeys (Do I wanna know?, Why'd you only call me when you're high?) and Two Feet (I feel like I'm drowning, Love is a bitch) type of vibes?

Thank you for your time and a pleasure to meet you!🥺

hi!!! omfg it's been too long since i've had a fresh ask!! i'm a long time enjoyer of dc but i'm new to writing for it, welcome to the fandom!!

It was one of those slow nights. No big baddies, only a few muggers, one shifty man following someone. Nothing big to distract Jason from his thoughts of you. How you were so close to him but it felt like miles. He could lie and say all he wanted was you to smile at him. Jason knew the truth, though. You could smile at him one hundred times and he'd want one hundred and one.

He texted you and smiled under the helmet as you ranted about your latest interest. It was so cute the way you'd misspell words in your frenzy. He felt giddy as he got another text from you.

[Name]: You said you're boeed?

[Name]: *bored

[Name]: Anyway I've been curating my personal playlist

[Name]: Give it a listen :) [link.spotify]

He clicked the link and scrolled through the songs idly, not really paying attention before he clicked on one. It connected to his helmet's comm piece. The slow beat hit him and he recognized it. Okay so one song. And then it progressed to more like that one.

Was this a subtle way of flirting? Was this because you wanted him like he wanted you? He was probably making it out to be more than it is. It's not like you even looked at him like that. You said it was your personal playlist. So you had to listen to this all the time. So it's probably nothing. Part of him wondered if you ever thought of him while listening to these songs. The thought made his heart jump.

He made up his mind. He grappled away across the rooftops all the way to your apartment. Jason hardly registered that he opened the door, your playlist still playing in his ears. You looked up from your phone on the couch.

"Jason?" You stood up and walked to him. He struggled to pull his helmet off. The sound of your playlist softly played into the air from it. You stiffened and looked at the helmet. "Is that the playlist I sent you?" He knew he was breathing a little too hard. You so close after he had the lyrics of the latest song bounced around his head had him dizzy.

"Yeah...It's good." He huffed a laugh and looked down at the helmet, still playing those soft, sensual songs. "It's your personal one?" He scratched some dirt off the chin. Jason looked back to you through his eyelashes, a small smirk playing at his lips. Your face looked mortified.

"No..." You voice was soft and full of horror. "I sent the wrong one." You covered your face with your hands and apologized. He tossed his helmet onto the nearby chair. His hands found your wrists, gently pulling your hands from your face.

"Well, I really like this playlist." His smirk turned into a full, teasing smile. Your embarrassment showed clearly on your face and you looked away from him. His heart fluttered at how cute you looked.

"I meant to send the other one." You mumbled and he leaned in slightly to hear you clearer. That made you clam up and glance at him before looking back to the side. He could feel your breath on his face and it drove him crazy.

"Look at me." He was practically begging. He needed you to look at him like he needed to breathe. You complied, gasping at how he leaned in further. His lips were so close to yours. If he just leaned in a bit more...

"Buy me dinner first." You chuckled nervously. Your comment made him blink, his senses coming back to him in an instant. He pulled away and let go of your wrists, clearing his throat. Jason mentally kicked himself for getting too caught up in the moment.

"Sure, how's Saturday sound?" He joked back, half serious. His heart jumped as you met his eye, a glint of determination in yours. You gulped and stood up straighter.

"It's a date." You looked serious. He felt his heart thump harshly, a bubble of hope filled his chest. Were you joking? You didn't look like it. It looked like you were far from joking. His mind raced, he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Huh?" Brilliant, Jason, truly so eloquent. He wanted to smash his head into a wall. You almost lost your resolve. He could see it in the way you started to fidget with your hands. You were nervous.

"A date. With me." You took a deep breath. "Only if you really want to." He couldn't believe it. A date. For real. His mind went blank and he found himself at a loss for words. The second time tonight. That should be a record. How many times can he blue screen in one night.

"That sounds--yeah. Uh I mean--" Shut up. Shut up. "I'll pick you up. Um, what time?" Your laugh had him blushing and looking over to his helmet, still playing the playlist. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Does six sound okay?" He looked back at you, composure back in his control.

"Yeah, that sounds perfect." You smiled. He couldn't wait. He wanted to lean in again and kiss you. There would be time for that later, he reminded himself. You said dinner first. He'll give you dinner. Then he'll get a kiss. Hopefully.

[okiedokrie]

Begin Again

Summary: This is your first date since breaking up with your ex in eight months. You spent all that time thinking that love isn't worth the trouble anymore, because it only causes pain, misery, and endings. But on a Wednesday, in a cafe, you watched it Begin Again.

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Characters/Pairing: Joshua x gn!Reader

AU/Trope Info: Non-Idol!AU, Strangers to Dating

Word Count: 700 and some change

Warnings: Reader wears heels, lmk if i miss something!

A/N: i miss joshua hong, divider by @okiedokreations

Looking in the mirror, you do a once-over at your outfit. As you let out a shaky breath to calm your nerves down. You're getting ready for the first date you've been on since you broke up with your ex-boyfriend, finally getting the confidence to wear the heels you used to love before dating him. You never wore them because he hated them, but it felt freeing to finally have them on.

Grabbing your coat and keys, you turn the lock to your apartment before getting your earbuds out, your favorite song playing through them. Another thing you missed during your relationship with your ex, you'd never have the opportunity to play your songs around him, ‘I never get your song choices’, he'd say.

Arriving at the cafe where you'd meet your date, you half-expected him to be late, like your ex always was, instead he got here early. Standing up from his table to eagerly wave you over with a large smile. This brings you comfort immediately, offering him back a shy wave and small smile.

Just as you were about to pull out your chair to sit down, he jogged around the table to pull your chair out for you, motioning for you to take your seat. Pushing your chair in to help you get seated, he offers you another gentle smile, “It's nice to meet you.” He said. He doesn't realize how nice it is to be treated like this, he probably thinks it's the bare minimum, but compared to your ex, his company is already a lot more enjoyable. 

“This is so nice, thank you for choosing this place, Joshua. It's so nice to meet you too.” You said, trying to quell your excitement for this date. It's already going so well, the conversation between the two of you flowed easily, carrying an air of light-heartedness you haven’t experienced in a long while.

“Really? James Taylor? That's amazing! I've never met anyone who had as many, or maybe more, records from him. He's amazing, I actually learned to play guitar just to cover his songs!” Joshua beams with excitement, doe eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as you mirror his excitement, eagerly asking when you'd be able to hear him play. He offers you a second date at a bar he plays at regularly, and obviously, you accept.

You tell more stories about your life, it felt extremely freeing to talk about your interests openly like this, and Joshua is such a good listener, he nods along, eyes focused and present, just enjoying watching you talk about yourself. He seemed so interested in whatever you liked too, openly commenting that he's going to take note of everything you say for your next date. You feel a little shy, being seen for the first time in over a year.

You tell each other more and more, funny moments in your lives that leave a lasting, happy memory in your mind. He throws his head back, laughing loudly like a little kid, full-belly laughter that was so contagious you couldn't help but laugh along. You think that this felt nice, for Joshua to think you were so funny. It's a little strange too, your ex never seemed to think you were funny at all.

The date ended sooner than you wanted it to end, Joshua, ever the gentleman, offered to walk you to your car down the block. You had such a great time with him, it was like feeling a weight being lifted from your shoulders with just how easy it was to be around him. 

You almost brought him up, your ex, how you were comparing Joshua to him the entire time, but Joshua starts to talk about his favorite movies, the ones his family watches every single Christmas, and how he loves Christmas in general. And you genuinely wanted to just talk about that.

And for the first time, what's past is past.

You've been spending the last eight months thinking: all love ever does is break and burn, and end.

"Hey, do you wanna catch a movie sometime?"

But on a Wednesday in a cafe, you watched it Begin Again.

[sweetiesicheng]

hongjoong - practice

word count : 719

-

"come on, make it smooth. you look like a brick," one of the instructors scolds as all of them watch each of you dance for your evaluations.

the music in the room stops playing once the last trainee finishes their evaluations. all of you listen to the instructors, taking in their comments.

afterwards, the instructors leave and some of the trainees leave to go to other lessons. you stay in the practice room and notice one of your friends still in the room too.

"you did good today," you praise your friend.

hongjoong sits on the floor with his back against a wall. he shrugs, dismissing your comment. "i guess," he says to you.

"well, you got yelled at the least," you say and grab your water bottle. you drink some water before going to the sound system and playing one of the songs you had been learning.

you go into the center of the room and start practicing the choreography to the song, trying to make it look like the original artist's style. as you practice, hongjoong gets up and joins you. it's a pretty difficult song, but he makes it look easy.

once the song is over, another song plays and you continue dancing while hongjoong stops. he doesn't know the choreography to this song.

"when did you learn this?" he asks, clearly confused since you and him are usually in the same dance sessions.

"oh, i learned it by myself one night. i couldn't sleep so i just kept dancing," you mention. "it's not that hard though," you add.

"you look cool dancing to this," hongjoong compliments you.

you smile, "thanks," you reply but mess up the next steps. "you jinxed me!"

"hey, you're the one talking while dancing," hongjoong replies with a laugh. you start laughing while trying to catch up with the music.

when the song ends, you go over to the sound system and look at the songs that are queued up.

"hey hongjoong?" you call the other trainee. "teach me something," you request.

"teach you something? like what?" he asks.

you shrug, "you've been here longer than me. shouldn't you know more stuff?" you ask him.

"i don't know everything. i've been learning how to produce music lately," he mentions. "that's why i'm usually not in here," he adds.

"producing? do you want to go into that?" you ask, turning the sound system completing off.

hongjoong nods, "yea. when we debut, i want to create all of our group's music," he says. "do you want to go to the studio? i can show you one of my favorites," he offers.

"really?" you ask.

he nods with a smile, "yea. let's go."

both of you leave the practice room and head to one of the studios that hongjoong frequently uses. when you go inside, you notice a bunch of stuff littered around.

"ignore the mess," he says to you. "happens when i'm working." hongjoong goes to the computer and sits down on the chair. he starts going through files while you stand next to the chair. "oh, this one is my favorite," he says and starts playing on the songs.

music blares from the speakers, but hongjoong turns it down a bit. you listen to the song where a few people sing and rap. you recognize the voices as other trainees as well as hongjoong.

"this is really good, hongjoong," you praise him when the song ends. "you're gonna go big."

he chuckles, "wouldn't that be nice?" he says and starts pulling up the programs that he uses.

"i'm serious, hongjoong. you are," you say to him.

"we're both gonna make it, y/n. we can be each other's number one fans," he says to you. "wanna learn something? you can make your debut song too."

"oh hell yea," you reply and move stuff on a chair so you can pull it up and sit down. "where do we start?"

hongjoong laughs, "got a long way to go. go over here," he says and starts showing you the different functions of the music program.

luckily, you two don't have any other lessons, or else you'd probably get in major trouble. as the day lingers into night, hongjoong teaches you how to make a beat and different ways to play around with the music.

[laurfilijames]

Like My Dreams

Part 5

Intro Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 9.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Unprotected intercourse. Sex in a public place. Blood, cuts and bruises. Dressing of wounds. Cockwarming. Mention of stab wound and life-threatening injuries. Assault. Threat of rape.

Summary: Right when you and Pete seal the deal on your relationship, more car trouble and a visit from an ex stirs up drama and pops the blissful bubble you waited so long for.

A/N: 😅 this chapter really got away from me but I had the best time writing it!! I had an idea for part of it and pitched it to the wonderfully supportive @ramadiiiisme who encouraged me to go for it and helped me pull it off, so big thanks to you a million times more 💗 The scene with Mrs. Platt was inspired by a conversation with @stealfromthedevil about her dear grandmother who's cheeky words are included in the dialogue 💗💗

The linked song is one I've been listening to non-stop while writing this chapter and is just so lovely and fits in with all the fluffy bits of not only this chapter, but this series as a whole.

---

It had been a couple of hours since Pete had gone home to shower and clean up after the friendly game with the lads, now sitting in his favourite seat at their table watching the Hammers struggle to get a lead against Chelsea, the match currently tied at 1-1. He would normally care a bit more about it, but knowing you were on your way to meet him there had taken all his focus and energy, feeling more excited to see you than bothered that his team might end the game in a draw, or worse.

He slouched against the old chair with his arm over the back, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it back down and licking his lips.

“Oh, come on! Fucking unbelievable!” he muttered at the screen, the referee pulling an outrageous call against West Ham.

Whatever happened next in the game no longer mattered to him all that much, seeing you walk in the door and through the crowd of people standing between you, his smile growing as he watched you tug your scarf out from around your neck and head over to the bar where you stopped to say hello to Terry and order a drink.

Pete stood and walked over slowly, admiring you from across the room as you chatted with Terry for a moment, your smile making his heart nearly stop when you turned and directed it at him as he reached you.

He said nothing, his grin too large to control any words to come through it, instead opting for a greeting he had been waiting all night to give.

Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned in and kissed you, inhaling with a low moan as he felt you melt into him and release your breath, your hands landing limply on his biceps.

A few people cheered around you, making both of you smile again after you parted from each other, but the need to get you alone was quickly becoming a priority in the realization of how many people were preventing him from doing all the things he wanted to do right then and there.

“Hi, love,” he said warmly, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes making desire stir inside you.

“Hi,” you sighed with a love-drunk smile, the single word a breathy whisper.

Pete bit his lip as he reached for both of your drinks off the bar, nodding in the direction of their table in the corner.

“Come on, gorgeous, we’re over here.”

You were greeted warmly as usual, the spirits of everyone high after the Hammers scored a goal, and with all members of the GSE and their respective partners present to watch the match, little room was available at the booth.

Ned and Ike shifted over to make a spot for you beside Clair and Dave, leaving a space that was too large for your liking between you and where Pete sat in his designated chair, his hands folded together with his elbows resting on the arms of it as he looked fondly at you mixed in with his favourite people.

As much as you loved being at The Abbey enjoying conversations that made your cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so much, the company that Pete kept people you now couldn’t imagine your life without, it was difficult for you to focus tonight, your mind constantly wandering to how the night was going to turn out just as much as your eyes continued to find Pete’s automatically.

It was like he knew everything you were thinking, his blue eyes glowing with a telling want and his looks loaded with insinuation, every swipe of his tongue over his lips or the way he rolled the toothpick that hung out of his mouth teasing you and driving you mad.

You squirmed in your seat, your fingers toying with the soggy coaster that had been spilled on too many times, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from him whenever you felt the heat inside you becoming too much, only to steal another glance a moment later, finding him still looking at you hungrily.

The game was coming to an end, and with the Hammers still holding onto their lead, Pete was more than happy to miss the rest of it in exchange for seeing something he had wanted to all day, and as you slowly trailed your hand down your neck to your chest before reaching for the drink you had nursed most of the night, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Waiting for you to glance over at him again, he watched you intently, imagining your bare form beneath him, pressing his lips against every single inch of you.

Finally, you met his gaze, a sultry look weighing in your eyes, and with a subtle nod toward the door, Pete silently told you it was time to go.

You smiled almost sheepishly, your face seeming to glow in a mix of embarrassment and excitement as you rushed through your goodbyes, your friends all shouting teasing jeers at you in knowing the reason behind your early exit.

Pete winked at you as he shrugged into his tan trench coat, adjusting the collar and tugging it up at the back so it covered his neck, flicking the toothpick he still had in his mouth onto the table.

He took your hand and lead you through the pub with a pride that didn’t go unnoticed by those you passed, finding yourself bashful in thinking that everyone knew what was about to happen based on the look on your face, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning and cast your eyes down at the worn carpet as you made your way out.

The door hadn’t even shut behind you before Pete had you up against the brick wall, his hands holding your waist with a claiming grip as he leaned into you and kissed you breathless, his want for you inarguable.

“Let’s go home,” he said with surety, his smile lighting up his eyes when he stepped away from you, pulling you with him with his hand clasped around yours again confidently.

The walk to Pete’s wasn’t long, but was made longer tonight by how often the two of you stopped to kiss, unable to keep off of each other for the duration it took to land at his door.

There was thankfully no sign of Mrs. Platt hanging around to make comments, the time it took for Pete to fish out his keys and unlock the deadbolt incredibly delayed due to interrupting the process in favour of kissing, your bodies now pressing together more closely and your hands becoming bolder where they roamed.

Pete finally opened the door and walked through it, and after tossing his keys onto the table, turned to grin at you and take your hand, pulling you inside with him.

“Get in here,” he said through his smirk, the playful tone of his voice undisguisable despite how much lust showed in his eyes.

He brought you in against him, his lips teasing yours as he whispered, “I need you.”

You smoothed your hands up the back of his neck as you kissed him, melting when he moaned into your mouth as the sensation of your fingers raking through his hair made him desperate for more, the intensity of the kiss increasing quickly.

Within moments you stood naked in his room, holding each other close while playful kisses were shared and hands began their worship, the excitement and anticipation that had slowly built up to this moment stirring within you.

It was clear that Pete felt the same, his smile unable to be wiped from his face each time you parted to look at each other, and as he moved closer to the bed with you, he tucked his bottom lip in his teeth to try to restrict it.

You sat on the mattress, leaning back on your elbows where he followed closely, crawling over you as you fully laid down in his bedding that lingered with the scents of him and you. His smile turned into a sweet chuckle as you giggled too, having him settle between your legs and laying on top of you making you feel unbelievably elated, the sensation of his readied cock resting against your core solidifying the fact that you couldn’t possibly wait another night.

His expression turned serious for a moment as he peered down at you, a soft groan coming out of his mouth as his cock rubbed against you when he shifted slightly.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asked, his voice somewhat shaky with restraint.

You nodded, and spoke with as much certainty as you could have in a moment where you felt on the border of being totally consumed by lust and longing, “Fuck me, Pete.”

He didn’t hesitate, pushing into you with a confident drive of his hips, your head tilting back as you cried out, the stretch of him filling you bare without a doubt the best thing you had ever felt.

Together, you quickly found a pace that suited you both, his thrusts slow and rolling but purposeful, his kisses growing more desperate on the skin of your neck and chest as each minute ticked on.

It took hardly any time at all for your climax to fire up within you, the anticipation of sex with Pete having let the intensity of it lay in dormancy right under the surface only to bring it forth faster than ever, his body linked with yours igniting and awakening every part of you.

You clawed at his back in a signal of your oncoming pleasure as well as a silent plea for more, half of you wanting to experience it immediately while the other half begged to prolong it all.

Clenching around his cock, you couldn’t ward it off any longer, moaning into his mouth as he continued to slam into you in a tempo that sent you to the edge but you could tell was beginning to falter as his climax took him in its clutches.

Your orgasm came through you hard and fast, shattering every inch of you as he followed right along with you, feeling him pulse and swell inside your walls, soaking him at the same time he filled you.

Pete kissed you almost frantically as he slowed his movements in you, savouring every second of being inside you while seemingly starving for more, your whines quieting out in his mouth as his breathing worked to calm to normal.

Emotion overcame him at the thought of never being able to experience this with you, the reality of him almost dying without ever having kissed you or touched you or loved you made his eyes burn, and closing them tight as he parted from your lips, he held your face in his hand and brought his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb moving to pull down your lower lip as you shared more laboured breaths.

You made love again and again through the night, resting between rounds only long enough to recharge, the addiction you had to each other increasing each time.

It was well after three in the morning when you had finally fallen asleep, exhaustion eventually taking over the nagging need for more, the cold comfort of the open window and your bodies wrapped together truly feeling like heaven.

The sound of rain and Pete stirring against you woke you up, making you scoot back against him to get closer to him, his arm that was wrapped around your waist tightening its hold and pulling you in.

He hummed in your hair, his body beginning to wake before his mind fully did, feeling him harden against your bum while his lips lazily kissed down the back of your neck.

A long moan sounded from you as you indulged in the blissful sensation, wriggling against him until his cock was firmly pressed between your cheeks, beginning to rock your hips languidly back and forth until his sleepy kisses turned to warning nips.

“Babe…” his sleepy voice purred in your ear, his lips pulling your lobe between them before his tongue swept along its shell.

“Pete…I need you.” His name fell from your lips in a whimper as your hand took hold of his and guided it between your legs, his fingertips gently stroking your clit until he had you begging for more.

Pete sat up and guided you onto all fours, positioning himself behind you where he gripped your cheeks with his hands to part them while he stroked your folds with the head of his cock.

Despite feeling how wet you were, he was aware how you would likely be sore from the amount of times he’d fucked you already, reaching over for the bottle of lube on the nightstand where he squeezed some out and coated his length until he hissed from the sensation of his own hand and slowly guided himself inside your tight walls.

He watched your hands grip the sheets as he filled you, your fingers relaxing slightly as he pulled back out, only to grip them harder and cry out when he pushed in again.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he muttered, keeping a slow tempo even though he was tempted to quicken it and destroy you.

He heard your soft hum of appreciation for his praise over the pouring rain, everything you did adding up to drive him insane and make him fall more in love with you, suddenly feeling as if being buried inside you wasn’t enough to appease his heart.

Pete wrapped his arm around you so his hand splayed out over your stomach, applying pressure to guide you to sit up and onto his lap, careful to keep himself locked in your cunt.

Spreading the remaining lube onto your clit with his fingers, Pete began to steadily work you, his other hand holding you up while also squeezing and massaging your breasts, his mouth worshiping the space between your shoulder and ear in an intoxicating way that had your head lulling back onto his shoulder.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as a brisk gust blew in through the window, adding to the over-stimulation that assaulted every part of you, doing your best to focus on the fullness of Pete driving inside you as you rocked yourself on his lap.

You reached your arm up and around his head, stroking his hair and gripping at him as you rode him, feeling yourself beginning to lose all control but placing all your trust in him to take care of you just how you needed.

Still holding you firmly against him, he continued to strum between your legs, knowing how close he was getting you from how you subtly tried to escape his grasp and your body convulsed to his touch, feeling your hands tighten on his head and forearm that was wrapped around you to keep you in place.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he panted in your ear, feeling you angle your hips against his hand in order to gain more friction on your clit, chasing your end as he increased the power behind his hammering thrusts.

Quiet whimpers grew at a steady pace as they spilled from your mouth, your whines of pleasure drowned out in your own ears as you focused on the sound of Pete’s heavy breathing and the praises he was showering you with, the pouring rain tapping furiously against the glass panes.

You unraveled together, the way your body tightly coiled before turning limp milking out his climax at the same time, his breath fanning out over your dewy skin as he rested his parted lips on your shoulder and stilled inside you.

Lifting yourself off his lap, you sank onto the mattress on your stomach, closing your eyes as exhaustion completely took over you, a faint smile tugging at your lips when you felt Pete follow, kissing up along your back until he collapsed half on top of you.

He took hold of your hand and brought it to rest between your bodies, kissing your knuckles softly until his breathing began to turn shallow as sleep quickly dragged him into its grasp.

These were the moments you knew you couldn’t live without, willing to sacrifice sleep night after night in order to love and be loved like this, the gratitude that filled you at being the one laying beside him as he slept outweighing any desire to close your eyes and miss even a second of it.

You knocked twice on the door before opening it anyway, letting yourself in just as Pete had told you to whenever you came over, the urgency you felt to get inside and out of the hallway too much to handle even if you weren’t allowed to walk in as you pleased.

Pete gave you an amused look, one of his eyebrows hooking high on his forehead as he placed the pen he had been holding in his mouth and reached for another paper to grade off the coffee table, your laughter sparking his curiosity.

“What?” he asked, letting out his own chuckle at your flustered state as you leaned against the door and ran your hand over your head.

“I was just stopped by Mrs. Platt. She told me she can hear us and to keep it down!”

Pete burst out laughing, shifting on the settee so his arm rested on the back of it to face you more.

“It’s not funny!” you argued, even though you were still laughing yourself, shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you had just had with the crotchety woman in her eighties.

“Oh, it is!”

“Pete!” you urged, as if saying his name would scold him into not making fun of the situation, walking through to the living area where you plopped your bag down on one of the chairs as you passed.

“She actually said, ‘It’s not my place, but do you two ever sleep? All I hear night after night is that bed banging against the flaming wall!’”

Pete only laughed harder, hanging his head back over the sofa where you stood behind it and leaned down to grab hold of his face, begging him to stop laughing before kissing him in order to try to shut him up when he didn’t.

He was still chuckling when you pulled away from him, prompting you to smack his chest as you cursed at him.

“I can’t keep being stopped in the hallway to listen to this poor old woman make comments about hearing us have sex!”

“Ah, she’s just winding you up!”

You turned to walk into the kitchen only to be stopped by Pete’s arm wrapping around your waist to pull you back to the couch that he leaned over the back of, looking at you with mischief in his eyes that made you melt and suddenly not worry about anyone hearing the things you did together.

“Come on, love,” he purred. “She ain’t heard nothing yet.”

“Is that a promise, or a threat?” you asked, smirking as you freed yourself from his grip and made it into the kitchen, filling up the kettle.

“Both!” he replied, sitting back down on the sofa where he resumed marking his student’s homework.

“I need to take my car back to the mechanic,” you explained, shifting the conversation to something ordinary after a couple minutes of comfortable silence while placing a tea bag into your respective mugs.

“Yeah?” Pete asked somewhat distractedly as he focused on his task.

“Yeah, it's been making a funny noise whenever I accelerate, and it sort of jolts when I shift gear. Hopefully it’s nothing major or expensive, they were meant to be the best mechanic…”

“When are you taking it in?”

“Tomorrow morning. My sister’s going to meet me there and take me to work after.”

“I can do it if you want,” he offered, glancing over at you.

“Nah you’re off the hook,” you smiled, “she’s got some holiday time so I’m off duty being Jack’s chauffeur for a week!”

“Ah, look at you!”

“I know, right? She’s even taking him to practice this week.”

“That means I won’t get to see you there then, nothing good to look at on the sidelines and distract me,” he pouted, making you roll your eyes before pouring the hot water into your mugs.

“I reckon you’ll live.”

“Ah, then Mrs. Platt will just get to hear an even better show than normal when I get back home to you,” Pete laughed, ducking when you threw the tea towel at him.

The drive to Millwall took longer than normal due to rush-hour traffic, but it didn’t bother you as much as it typically would knowing you had a late start to your day that had been approved by your boss.

You pulled into the open bay door of the garage, parking your car and stepping out, giving a friendly smile to the mechanic who had helped you before.

“Giving you some grief, then eh?” he asked through a grin, nodding to your car as he wiped his hands on a rag.

“Yeah, as I said on the phone it’s kind of clunking when I’m shifting and the sound it makes when I accelerate worries me a bit…”

“We’ll put ‘er right, not to worry!” he beamed at you, extending his oil-stained hand to take your keys that you held out for him.

He stared at you for a moment, making you avert your gaze slightly, feeling somewhat uneasy.

“Say, you don’t happen to know the Dunham’s do you?” he asked, his question making your head whip up again in surprise. “Steve and Pete? They’re brothers.”

You tilted your head, your curiosity somewhat guarded, “I do, as it happens…”

The way his smile changed and the shift in his eyes put you on edge and raised your suspicions, but you did your best to remain confident, interested as to why he was asking and how he knew who they were.

“I thought as much,” he nodded.

His response took you back, and you blinked quickly, trying to wrap your head around this whole inquiry.

“Sorry, how exactly do you know them?”

He hesitated, staring you down for a few seconds before answering, almost as if he was being careful to formulate a proper response or like he was unsure how much to tell you.

“...We’re old mates,” he said slowly, his smile not leaving his thin lips.

You nodded, glancing down at the embroidered name tag on the chest of his overalls, the name ‘Martin’ one you wouldn’t forget.

“Right,” he broke the silence, his tone more cheerful in disrupting the somewhat tense air. “We’ll have a look at it and likely get it back to you at the start of next week…give ya a ring when we know what it needs and what the damage is.”

“Ta,” you thanked him, giving him one last look before turning and walking out of the garage, heading to your sister’s car where she was parked on the road out front.

You pulled the handle on the door and sat down into the passenger seat, looking out the window into the shop where Martin stood with another man of equal stature, both of them glancing out in your direction.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm? Nothing, it’s fine,” you assured her, smiling at her as you put your seatbelt on. “Can we stop for a coffee on the way?”

It was a typical Thursday night at The Abbey, everyone gathering at the table one by one as they flowed in from work, a pint and some laughs with mates seeming to be of the same priority for each hardworking hooligan alike as the week started to take its toll and winded down to an end.

“Where’s Pete?” Ike asked, sitting down beside you with his fresh pint.

“Oh, he’s coaching tonight,” you explained, spinning what was left of your gin and tonic in its glass. “He should be here in an hour or so.”

Ike nodded in confirmation as he took a long sip of his beer, both of you drawing your attention to the Bjorno’s as they walked in with a cheerful greeting.

Dave planted a kiss on Clair’s lips as he stopped at the bar to get the drinks in, letting her continue on to the table where she sat down with a sigh.

“Long shift?” you asked, catching the weary look that she couldn’t easily hide.

She glanced at you exasperatedly, “Oh, don’t even get me started!”

“Here you go, my love,” Dave said while leaning down to place her drink in front of her, kissing the top of her head as he did.

You found it difficult to focus on the conversations happening around you, your attention glued to the small group of women standing at the far side of the bar, the looks they kept shooting your way making you feel uneasy.

“Hey, do you know who they are?” you asked Clair, subtly nodding in their direction as they leaned in over the bar to get closer to Vicky, the barmaid, before all staring back at you again.

“Those tarts?” Clair began. “Yeah, they’re mates of Vicky’s. Bunch of slags.”

You nodded, taking it in but still not having an answer as to why they seemed so interested in you, thinking of all the times you had nice enough conversations with Vicky, or so you thought.

“Pete used to have it off with the blonde one,” Bovver piped up, blowing the smoke from his freshly lit cigarette in your direction as he spoke.

Your eyebrows raised high on your forehead as you took in the information, finally having some clarity as to why these women you had never seen before were obviously unhappy with your presence.

“Fucked like crazy for a few months…” he continued, the iciness of his blue eyes holding something of a threat as he told you.

“Oi! Don’t be like that,” Dave scolded him, shoving his arm. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“It’s true!” Bov scowled, his loyalty to his relations with Vicky clearly extending to her friends over you.

You sighed, trying not to let it bother you, reminding yourself that everyone, including you, had a past, and hoped that whatever issue she had with you would pass soon.

“Right, I need another,” you stated, shaking your empty glass in your hand as you stood.

Just as you anticipated, the daggers coming from across the bar dug into your back, still doing your best to ignore them while waiting for Terry to fix your drink, but that became impossible when the blonde who was apparently an ex of Pete’s slunk over to you and stood far closer to you than you would’ve liked.

“I didn’t think it was true, but here you are,” she began, her accent sloppy from the drinks she had tossed back already, her breath smelling of stale fags and the tartness of the cranberry juice she mixed with her vodka.

“What’s true?” you asked, giving her no more than a sideways glance as you fished the change from your pocket to pay for your drink.

“That Pete is dating a plain, old slag.”

“I’m sorry, and who might you be?”

“I was you only a few months back,” she grinned, her smile vicious and proud in her admission that she had been Pete’s at one time.

You huffed as you smiled, taking your drink from Terry who eyed you up as if offering his help, turning to go back to the table. The thought of him being with someone as vile as her made your stomach lurch, and not wanting to give it any further attention, you ignored her.

“I’m not done talking to you, you soppy cow!” she shouted, her lack of couth on full display to everyone around as a hush fell over the pub.

When you continued on your way over to the group, all of them watching with bated breath to see what would happen next, the satisfaction on Bovver’s face boiling your blood more than she was, her shrill voice sounded out again, making you pause.

“He said I was the best he’s ever had, and I’ll be right here to remind him of that.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the adrenaline making you feel shaky and on the verge of doing something stupid, but instead you neglected to give her the drama she sought and took your seat again, praying that Pete would get there soon.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Dave assured, leaning over Clair who had already offered to fight her twice. “It wasn’t that serious…”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you assured, hoping it sounded genuine or at least believable.

“I mean, they were at it together for a few months…” Keith added in, earning a scolding from both Dave and Swill, making you swallow thickly.

You took a long sip of your drink as you tried to tune out the sound of the lads bickering and the jeers still coming in your direction from across the bar, your eyes closing as you tried to slow your breathing.

After a couple more minutes, you stood and made your way through the bar to the loo, praying no one would follow you, your newfound enemies calling you names as you passed.

Pete finally made it to the pub, strutting through the crowd and desperate for a beer after a long day at work and then coaching out in the cold rain, the sight of his ex leaning what she thought was invitingly against the bar making him scowl as he passed.

When there was no sight of you at the table, he did a quick glance around, distractingly returning everyone’s greetings as he shrugged out of his jacket and sat.

“Oi, what’s she doing here?” he asked Dave, nodding over in the direction of the bar where they continued to stare over at him.

Dave shook his head, “They’ve been causing trouble, pal.”

Seeing Pete’s face fall into worry as he looked around for you again, Dave continued. “She’s in the toilets, she seemed a bit upset…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Pete muttered, standing and going through the pub in quick strides, not giving his ex even a glimpse as he passed.

He pushed open the door to the ladies room more aggressively than he intended, his anger at the situation and that cheap tart upsetting you getting to him, his anger quickly turning to surprise when he saw you standing in front of the tarnished mirror reapplying your lip gloss, appearing fine and unbothered.

“Can I help you?” you grinned, watching him in the mirror with unhidden amusement at his presence.

His head tilted a bit to the side, walking toward you slowly while still assessing you, his concern still creasing his features even though he was smiling back at you.

“They said you were upset…”

You laughed and shook your head, screwing the cap back on your lip gloss before sticking it in your pocket, turning to look at him directly instead of in the mirror, your bum sitting on the edge of the sink.

“Upset? Over those twats? Come on…” you shrugged, trying your best to play it cool even though it had bothered you more than you were letting on.

Pete closed the space between you and leaned his forehead against yours, still searching your eyes for any hints of you being hurt or shaken up.

You let your eyelids close, instantly feeling relaxed from him being close to you, breathing in deeply when he brought his hands up to hold your face.

“We all have a past, Pete,” you whispered, saying it more for your own conviction than his, the frustrated exhale he let out at his past involving that awful slag fanning over your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his lips moving against yours as they hovered there, teasing a kiss.

“Don’t be sorry,” you answered, your hands trailing up his chest where you took hold of the collar of his jumper and slid the material through your fingers, his body moving closer to yours. “Just kiss me, Pete.”

He did, crashing into you so hard your head was forced back but stopped by his hands still gripping your face, his tongue delving into your mouth hungrily and greedily where you didn’t hesitate to match his fervor.

Everything was rough and desperate, kissing with a need to prove that each other’s lips were the only ones ever worth kissing, your hands pawing and groping in a crazed act of passion.

Pete’s fingers tore at the button and zipper of your jeans before diving his hand inside them, his long fingers stroking through your folds until your wet coated them, your moans reverberating in his mouth as you continued to kiss, your lips moving against each other sloppily and hastily.

After a minute, he withdrew from you, roughly tugging your jeans and panties down your thighs, his steely eyes staring at your exposed cunt as he quickly unfastened his own jeans and pulled out his hard cock before crashing against you again.

You spread your legs as wide as you were able to, giving him enough access to your core where he guided his leaking head, smearing his precum on your clit a few times until you were moaning and begging him to fill you.

Pete happily obliged, pushing inside your tight walls where he paused once he couldn’t go any deeper, kissing you frantically and groaning into your mouth from how good you felt.

Like he lost all sense of control, he slammed in and out of you, fucking you hard and fast while his mouth hung open and panted against yours in his efforts, the sink creaking precariously as you rocked your hips in time with his brutal thrusts, your fingers digging into the back of his neck and shoulders as you held on tight.

You were both so entranced in each other that neither of you noticed the door opening, his ex standing in the doorway in shock of the scene she walked into, scoffing as she turned and left.

“Fuck, babe,” he growled, pulling his face away from yours slightly where he watched his cock slide in and out of you, the sight encouraging him to move even more furiously within you, your cries growing louder as your climax quickly built up.

“Pete!” you bellowed, a desperation in your voice that told him you were on the brink, and knowing you were at risk of screaming as you came, he covered your mouth with his and proceeded to pound you mercilessly, swallowing your noises of unbridled pleasure as you clenched and shuddered on his cock.

Only seconds behind you, Pete bucked into your soaked cunt until he pumped you full of his hot spend, feeling it leak out of you as he continued to slowly thrust, drawing out every moment of your highs that he could.

You laughed as you comprehended what just happened, smoothing your hand over your head as your chest rose and fell sharply, Pete chuckling as a mischievous and prideful look dressed his flushed features.

“It’s impossible to get enough of you,” he admitted, his eyes flickering over your face as he leaned his arms against the sink, caging you in.

You hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kissing him long and slow and in a way you hoped conveyed everything you felt for him.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked when your kiss slowed to a pause, the blue of his eyes more vibrant and full of emotion.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling at him softly while your finger traced the crease beside his mouth.

“Okay, darling,” he cooed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he inhaled deeply, his face moving into the side of your neck where he pressed kisses into the sensitive skin and made you squirm and giggle.

Stopping, he brought his face back up to look at you, his expression serious again, his hand finding yours where he laced your fingers together and gave it three gentle squeezes.

“You know you’re the only one I want, yeah?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand back three times, smiling bigger as his own grew.

“I do, though I wouldn’t mind you showing me again…”

“Careful what you wish for!” he laughed burying his face into your neck again where he nipped and sucked at your skin, your laughter echoing against the tiled walls.

Pete walked out of the bathroom with you confidently after cleaning up and composing yourselves, even happier to see that his ex and the rest of Vicky’s horrible friends had left, the expressions on everyone’s faces as you sat back down at the table telling you they knew exactly what you had been up to.

“Oi, that colour suits you, mate,” Ned commented, pointing to his lips as he stared at Pete’s that were tinted from your lip gloss.

“Yeah? It’d suit yours too,” Pete said, leaning over and planting a kiss on Ned’s cheek quickly before he pushed him away, cursing and wiping his cheek dramatically.

Pete laughed as he took his seat, downing his pint that had been waiting for him to return to, leaning back in his chair where he pulled you onto his lap to have you proudly perch, the atmosphere more relaxed and as it normally was.

Red dripped into the sink one drop at a time, flowing steadily from so many places on his hands and face he wasn’t even sure where it was all coming from.

Pete tugged more tissues out of the box, bunching them up and holding them to what he thought was the deepest cut on his chin with as much pressure as he could, the ache in his hand preventing him from doing a sufficient job. He didn’t think he’d cracked on that Zulu cunt as hard as he did, but his knuckles proved otherwise, split open what felt like to the bone.

Any effects the pints in his bloodstream had provided him had definitely worn off now, his head pounding and every cut on him stinging and burning like mad, the severity of each fresh injury hard to determine as he looked at himself in the mirror through one good eye, the dark, puffy welt spreading up to his other from his cheek.

He stood with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, his blood and sweat-stained clothes discarded in a heap on the floor, his reflection revealing bruises on his side and abdomen that refused to be ignored when he had lifted his jumper over his head.

It was late, and as quiet as he tried to be, Pete knew better than to think you wouldn’t have heard him come home, your inability to stay asleep for long without him something he secretly loved and made him swell, always feeling equally as eager to get back home and in bed with you.

“Hiya, love,” he muttered, smirking at you in the mirror when you appeared in the doorway, your sleepy face quickly changing to shock when you saw the state of him.

“I’m fine!” he stressed, knowing what your next words were going to be, the worry on your face breaking his heart a little.

“Pete…” you whispered, not in an accusatory or scolding way, but out of sheer love and care, your hands cupping his cheeks gently despite getting blood on them, your eyes searching his for truth in his claim of being okay.

“Fucking Zulu’s…” he trailed off, a small laugh blowing out of his lungs.

Never once had you asked him to stop fighting, and he knew you wouldn’t now, taking the aftermath of his hobby on the chin just like he did multiple times tonight, his love and appreciation for you making him feel a bit emotional as he watched you open the cupboard and get out the first aid kit to tend to his wounds.

He blinked back the moisture that had quickly accumulated in his eyes before you were facing him again, closing them when you pressed a careful kiss to his bloody lips, letting out a long sigh when you pulled away.

“Sit so I can see better,” you instructed, your voice soft and soothing to his ears.

Pete turned and stepped toward the tub, perching on the edge of it so he faced the sink for you to work, watching the deep red spots staining it dilute into a rusty colour as water ran from the tap and washed his blood off the porcelain.

Carefully, and for as long as it would take, you gently cleaned all of his wounds, wiping the blood that had dried and stuck in his blond stubble and dabbing the cuts that still oozed, your touch becoming lighter whenever you noticed a wince that involuntarily snuck past his attempts to hide them.

Luckily, nothing needed stitches, and even though Pete knew you were done cleaning and disinfecting each cut he’d sustained, you continued to linger, admiring his bruised and battered features.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you close to him, letting his face lean into your stomach, breathing deeply as you raked your fingers up his bare back and through his hair. His shoulders relaxed, letting go of the tension held in them from taking the painful sting of peroxide seeping into his cuts over and over, his hands smoothing up your bare thighs and your bum.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” you whispered, your lips pressing against his scalp.

He hummed, pulling his face away from the warmth of your body in his sweater.

“Yeah. C’mere,” he offered, shifting slightly so your legs had room to straddle him.

You seated yourself on his lap, smiling when his own broke out on his damaged face, your back arching into him when he placed his hands under his sweater that you had now worn more times than him to card up your back.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, admiring you for a moment before kissing you softly, his nose moving back and forth on yours a couple of times before nudging your cheek, resting his face against it while he closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

“You’re welcome, love,” you cooed, your fingers ghosting over the back of his neck, making him melt into you even more.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he spoke, mostly to himself, still finding it hard to believe that he had been lucky enough to survive his injuries and then have you walk into his classroom that one morning.

Pete kissed your cheek once, then again, each press to your soft skin urging him to add another and then more after that, eventually meeting your lips with his until minutes had passed with you lost in the haze created by your slow kisses.

His hands held your back firmly, keeping you close to him and preventing you from falling back as he moved his head away from yours and looked at you in a way that made you want to show him that the love you had for him existed like no other.

“I love you,” he professed, as if he had stolen the words right out of your mouth. Those three words were spoken with a calm surety that held such truth there was no way you could deny or question it, your fingers trembling against his cheek as you trailed them along the crease that flanked his lips.

“I love you, too, Pete.”

The taste of blood transferred onto your tongue again as he crashed into you, kissing you with more ardor than ever before, the relevancy of the cuts on his lips no longer a concern to either of you.

Your hands slipped around the back of his neck, pulling him into you even more to deepen your kiss, your hips rolling against his just enough that you could feel his cock hardening, your bare core grinding on the somewhat rough material of the towel separating you.

Pete moaned into your mouth, and without stopping kissing you, leaned back enough to unwrap the fold of the towel from his waist, letting it fall open under him.

His hands slid under your thighs, guiding you to lift your hips in order to get on top of his cock, breaking your kiss to watch your face as you sank down on his length.

Before you even had the chance to start riding him, Pete ran his battered hands over your hair, his eyes holding as much softness as his voice did.

“Just be still for me, yeah?” he asked, wanting to savour the intimacy of being inside you unmoving.

You nodded, drawing in a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes as his nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips again, your hand resting on his chest where you could feel his heart beating wildly.

You would have been kidding yourself if you said you weren’t feeling a bit uneasy about going to pick up your car alone, the conversation you had had with the mechanic, Martin, when you dropped it off still fresh in your mind.

Pete was unable to take you, having to coach a practice after work, and your sister was taking Jack to it and staying to watch since she always missed so many, leaving you to take the tube over to Millwall to deal with it on your own.

You assured yourself over and over that it would be fine and that you were probably reading into things too much, but still the way he had mentioned knowing Steve and Pete and claiming to be old mates with them wasn’t sitting right with you. With work being so busy this week, you had completely forgotten to mention it to Pete, and you cursed yourself for failing to bring it up when you had checked with him again that morning if he was sure he couldn’t get someone else to coach for him.

As the stops to Millwall grew closer and closer, you did your best not to dwell, reading the book you brought with you while your leg bounced up and down unconsciously, your eyes scanning over the same paragraph again and again without being able to absorb the words.

“Alright, good job, lads!” Pete shouted after blowing his whistle, signaling the end of their practice.

He held the bag open for them to toss their soiled jerseys in, laughing at all their comments to each other and how supportive they all were of their teammates.

“Eh, Jack, will you help me gather up the pylons?” he asked when your nephew had made it over to him in the queue of rowdy boys.

As Pete knew he would, Jack happily jogged around the pitch and collected the majority of them, saving Pete and his leg the trouble of going to do it all himself.

“Cheers, mate,” Pete thanked him, ruffling his hair as he walked with him over to where his mum stood waiting.

“Great practice, love!” She praised her son, then smiled at Pete as Jack worked at untying his cleats and taking off his shin guards. “Reckon she’ll be back from Millwall soon, then?” she said, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

“Millwall?” Pete asked, his face screwed up at the mention of his rivaled district.

“Yeah, that’s where the mechanic is she took her car to.”

“What’s the garage called?” he questioned, an urgency present in his voice as he reached in the pocket of his jacket for his phone.

“I don’t know, I didn’t look when I had dropped her off and she never mentioned it…is everything okay?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Pete lied, trying to settle the rising panic he felt inside him at the thought of the garage you took your car to for repairs being Tommy fucking Hatcher’s.

He hit the button to dial your number and held it up to his ear, pacing as he listened to ring after ring before the sound of your voice came through, his heart falling when it was only your voicemail picking up.

“Fuck-” he hissed, hanging up before redialling, praying you would pick up and tell him you weren’t alone at Tommy’s garage.

The bell that chimed when the door opened sounded ominous tonight as you stepped through it, the smell of oil and exhaust fumes hitting your nose heavily, the distant sound of the radio and tools clanking against metal filling the otherwise quiet shop.

Your car was parked out front, seemingly ready to drive off in, and you hoped to settle the bill and get your keys quickly so you could make your way back to see Pete, wanting this day and especially this exchange to be over and done with.

Glancing through the window that looked into the garage from where the little waiting area was, you could see Martin bent over the bonnet of a car, and behind him, a small office where who you assumed was the owner sat at his desk.

When neither man noticed your presence, you stepped through into the bay, careful your heels didn’t slip on the greasy floor.

The man in his office finally caught sight of you, grinning with a somewhat villainous smile that split his hardened features, and you thought no matter how friendly he tried to appear, there was something about him that seemed impossible to soften.

“Hello, love,” he greeted, his voice matching his looks.

“Hi, sorry,” you stammered, “I’m just here to get my car.” You hooked your thumb and pointed over your shoulder in the direction of where it sat outside, planting your feet firmly on the cement floor while doing your best to stand tall and confident.

“Yeah, not a problem, I’ve got the paperwork all here for ya,” he explained, standing from his chair and turning to reach for some papers from the filing cabinet behind him.

Martin nodded as you walked past him to enter the office, giving you a curt ‘Evening,’ as you smiled weakly in return.

The man seemed to fill the entire space of his office, his form tall and broad, his personality giving off a powerful air that made you feel somewhat suffocated.

There were empty beer bottles on his desk, and scattered across the walls and cabinets that took up nearly every square inch of the small room were various pieces of Millwall F.C. paraphernalia.

“You a fan?” he asked, catching you looking at the poster of the crest hung on the wall beside him.

“Erm, no, I don’t really pay attention to football all that much,” you lied, the realization that this man was clearly a huge supporter of the club that was Pete’s sworn enemy making you want to avoid the topic altogether.

“No?” he questioned, his head tilting to the side as another vicious smile revealed his teeth. “Not even a fan of the mighty Hammers?”

The way he said it made your blood turn cold, and you swallowed thickly, thinking how Martin must have discussed your affiliation to West Ham United through knowing Pete and Steve, and you wondered if these men were members of Millwall’s infamous firm.

You shook your head and huffed out a false laugh, reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“No,” you repeated, hoping he didn’t press his inquiry any further.

Clearing your throat to ensure your words came out properly, you started filing through the stack of notes you had taken out of the bank that morning, counting out what you had been told the total was going to be for the repairs.

“It was £450, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, watching as you placed the money on his desk, folding his arms across his chest.

“You sure you aren’t running about and singing along to ‘Forever Blowing fucking Bubbles’ then?”

You scoffed, trying your best to look like you hadn’t heard or even sang that song more times than you could count since meeting Pete.

“Ah, I see,” he said, slowly. “So you’re going to lie right to my face and tell me you’re not Pete Dunham’s missus, are ya?”

You almost choked, words unable to form on your tongue that felt too big for your mouth, the air in your lungs feeling trapped while everything around you started to distort as a dizziness overcame you.

“How…how do you know that?”

He pointed his finger at you, his lips still curled into a smile. “See, I knew you were lying to me, you little slag.”

You stepped back as he walked around his desk, his blue eyes icy with an evil you had never seen before.

“Don’t you think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, love,” he grinned, sitting on the edge of his desk as he nodded behind you. “Martin there hates your little boy toy just as much as I do, so he won’t be letting you run past him too easily either.”

You kept still, taking in as deep a breath as you could, closing your eyes briefly to gain some courage as you thought of which of the many questions racing through your mind to ask next.

“How do you know who I am?” your voice squeaked out, unable to hide your fear.

He shrugged his shoulders and frowned, “I get people to find things out for me.”

“Right, I’d just like to get my keys and leave, I don’t want any trouble-”

“You’re missing the fucking point, here!” he shouted, cutting you off. “Didn’t little Petey warn you about me?”

You shook your head again, confused as to who this man even was to Pete. “No, I-”

“Was he too afraid to come with you, not man enough to protect you?”

He stood from his desk, walking closer to you until you were face to face and your back was pressed against a cabinet, leaving you nowhere to escape.

“Is the taste of death still too fresh for him?” he laughed, clearly amused in seeing you put it all together.

“You’re-”

“Yeah, that’s right, darling,” he cooed, his face so close to yours you could smell the stale beer and smoke on his putrid breath. “I’m Tommy Hatcher. The man who nearly wiped out the Dunham name.”

He seemed so proud of it, like the memory was something he revisited often, and you felt sick knowing you were standing vulnerable at the hands of the man who almost killed the one you couldn’t live without.

“It’s funny, innit? That out of all the garages in London to get your car fixed, you came to mine.”

His finger jabbed into your chest with each word, making you recoil to try to make space between you, only to press yourself harder into the cabinet.

“You’re vile,” you spat, shoving your arm against his chest to push him away from you, only to have him come back stronger and closer than before.

He gripped your chin with his meaty hand, his fingers digging into your skin so hard it made you yelp.

“I’ve been watching you for weeks now. You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, love,” he warned, the pleasure he took in this written all over his grisly face. “How’s that nephew of yours, by the way?”

Bile rose up your throat at the idea of him getting to Jack and causing him harm, the lengths this horrible, soulless man would go to to make anyone he hated suffer having no limit.

“He seems like a good lad,” he whispered, his mouth hovering beside your ear where his hot breath made your skin crawl and you squirm in his grasp. “It’d be a fucking shame if he didn’t make it past his twelfth birthday just like my son didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t!” you cried, trying to move your legs enough to kick him, only to have his body lean harder into yours to stop you.

“See, you’re forgetting what I’m capable of. How easy it was to drive that bottle into Stevie’s neck and how much fucking joy I got breaking Petey’s body until he was lifeless on the ground.”

His grip tightened on your face as his eyes scanned over you, and despite your efforts to not let it happen, tears sprang from your eyes at the description of him trying to kill Pete.

“Don’t think it wouldn’t be hard to do the same thing to you or that little boy.”

With all the strength you had, you pushed against him, hitting him as hard as you could in his stomach while stomping hard on his foot, but Tommy was too strong, slamming you back into the cabinet so the handle drove into your ribs and all the air in your lungs was knocked out of you.

He laughed in your face, locking his forearm across your neck to keep you in place, your struggle to breathe seeming to satisfy him.

“I could do anything I wanted to you right now and no one would know or be able to stop me,” he bragged, growing more aroused with the power he held over you.

He ground himself against you, making you feel his hardness through his trousers, the possibility of you actually being sick between that and the lack of oxygen becoming more and more likely.

“It’s funny, you've got the same look of terror in your eyes as he did right before I smashed his fucking face in!” he pointed out, his laughter ringing through the room like you had just shared a joke together.

Within a split second his demeanor changed again, glaring at you seriously as his voice quieted and turned calm.

“See, I could rape you, ruin you so he’d never want to touch you again...”

You let out a broken sob, your eyes screwing shut when you felt his other hand travel slowly down your waist until he reached your thighs, stopping when he spoke again.

“But it’s lucky for you I’m a changed man.”

Tommy loosened the force of his arm against your neck, backing away from you slightly, and ran a hand over his hair to regain some composure.

“Don’t wanna be stuck in the nick again over someone as pitiful as you and your precious Petey!” he barked, adjusting himself in his pants crudely while you shook against the cold, metal cabinet.

He reached for something on his desk, turning around and quickly throwing your keys at your face where they missed and hit you hard in the chest, making you jump and cry out which only made him howl a maniacal laugh.

“Go on, you shitcunt,” he spat, “go home to Petey and cry all about it to him!”

You stooped and grabbed your keys off the grimy floor with a trembling hand, bolting out the door as fast as your legs would carry you, the sound of his and Martin’s laughter chasing you out of the building where you pressed the button to unlock your car as quickly as possible.

The tears didn’t come until you were out of the lot and onto the road, the lights from passing cars blurry and blinding as you finally let out wracking sobs, unaware of how fast you were going or which roads you were turning down, getting as far away from Tommy Hatcher as you could the only thing on your mind.

---

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[thegoldenappleofdiscord]

hit me with your best will solace hcs please, i can take it

will solace headcanons or something

gonna be real honest i forgot half of my headcanons and i'll probably remember them the minute i post this but:

healing and hymns: i don't think the healing process in chb is specified beyond "ambrosia and nectar," but i think a combination of powerful voice (stentorian) + correct hymn + natural talent = higher chances of healing success; i don't think will has a voice that's very pleasant to listen to. i think he can carry a tune, sure, but he isn't someone you want to listen to for extended periods of time. the thing i think makes him such a good healer is his strong voice - he's able to keep singing at a steady pace with consistency. he can heal his siblings of small bruises and paper cuts through a single song, but you won't catch him leading a campfire. [i thought way too long about how hymns work in the infirmary for my fic jdsjgfdg]

texan will: i've seen a lot of headcanons revolving around texan will that have always been a little odd to me, seeing as i'm texan and half of these hcs are just blatant stereotypes lmao. i think i even once saw someone say that because he's from the south he can't be a vegetarian, which is pretty absurd (coming as someone who fasts.) honestly the only one for this i can think of is that he uses "ya'll" constantly. also occasionally indulges in fried food, because fried chicken slaps (none of that fried oreo/snickers bs. miss me with that will would NOT go near that stuff.)

assorted appearance headcanons:

he has freckles all over him! apparently he doesn't have them canonically and we all just. collectively decided that he did, and i love that.

likes pockets. anything with pockets. also, flip flops, crocs, basically any open-toed shoes. sometimes he'll just go barefoot, because why not. i also think he wears a lot of bracelets - things made by his younger siblings (some alive, some not.) they're his version of camp beads.

from here i give up on categorizing my hcs:

gets more irritated during winter/fall months

tea person

the type of person to belt out songs when he thinks nobody is watching

is actually rather chill during shadow travel, and doesn't get nauseated because he's done it with nico so often

lets the cocoa puffs hitch a ride on him whenever he's in the infirmary, and always has to explain who they are to new patients.

doesn't curse often but when he does it's a storm

friends with drew because i said so and also because i think he, jake, and drew have "i became a camp counselor too early" solidarity. i think they all became friends post tlo and have maintained a tentative relationship since! those cabins have each other's backs.

big spoon

wants to get more tattoos (maybe a tattoo sleeve?)

doesn't want to become a doctor, but rather a vet, or maybe a teacher. reasoning being that he'll have to relearn everything, but also that he'll have to deal with the loss of his patients again, this time knowing he couldn't heal them magically because he's relying on modern medicine. plus, he would have to spend a long time away from his siblings, and seeing as how he's a year rounder, i don't think that would bode well for him.

really really likes planning events - especially birthday parties

wants to travel the world, but is also afraid to leave everything behind

was once afraid of growing up, and still sort of is. doesn't think much of his birthday, because he used to celebrate it with his mother, and he didn't really get a chance to start celebrating with his siblings before being thrown into war

terrible dancer, even though his boyfriend is really good at it

loves to garden! there's a garden for the infirmary where he gathers ingredients for salves and poultices, but he also just loves the scent of flowers. he likes to care and nurture things, and plants are something he pours a lot of energy into. he and nico also go strawberry picking a lot.

fast fast fast runner

post tsats: persephone will occasionally call him using an angel trumpet flower (this is like. a very specific vision but search up one of those flowers and imagine holding it up to your ear like a telephone:)

anyway she calls him on one of these bad boys and asks how he's doing. they have long chats about flowers and sometimes him and nico are invited for picnics in the underworld.

him and nico have a travel bucket list

he has possibly the worst handwriting ever. absolutely terrible

is pretty bad at using technology, but still has to pretend like he knows how to use it when he's helping nico navigate the internet.

aand that's all i remember for now!

[ryiju-muunie]

[I] Know it's for the better

Usopp/transfem!Sanji Vinsmoke & Luffy D. Monkey/Zoro Roronoa Warnings: college/university AU, POV Usopp, Nami-Usopp friendship, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff and humor, tooth-rotting fluff, light angst, misunderstanding, cuddling, slow dancing, applying lipstick, cheesy romance, ambiguously early 2000s Word count: 18816 DESC: Ever since high school, Sanji and Usopp were the best of friends. Two social outcasts with nothing better to do than talk to each other. But now, he hadn’t thought about his old friend in almost three years, opting to live his life in the present rather than focus on the past. Who needed that jerk who ghosted him anyways? Not him! He was happier now! That was until he got a message on Facebook. //// Usopp mistakens his very intense feelings as misogyny.

Two uploads in one night whaaat

NOTES: I want to thank @pyr0frnzy for helping me with some plot ideas as the god of Sanuso and putting up with my constant DMing for how I could improve scenes! None of this would've been possible if you and I didn't bounce back and forth between different ideas! I've had this idea in my head for so long and it turned into something more meaningful than I could've ever expected. It's so much more heartfelt about love than it was originally going to be. More Rom than Com. And yes, Sanji might be OOC, you'll have to tell me. I'm not too good at writing him as a character, but I really wanted to give it a try in this kind of au. So let me know [politely I will cry] if I can improve! Thank you to Sailor Song by Gigi Perez for being the only thing I listened to, to write the latter half of this story. Especially since my mom texted me to change it because it's been days.

-

They were inseparable. Ever since high school, Sanji and Usopp were the best of friends. Maybe it was because they were opposites who attracted one another, or maybe it was because they were both a bit socially awkward. Two social outcasts with nothing better to do than talk to each other. To anyone else it could have seemed sad or pathetic but having each other was enough. Someone to lean on who understood you. So, when Sanji had decided to leave the country for college, it was devastating. He had told his friend of his plans to become a culinary chef and make a name for himself. He had said how he’d never leave, but instead improve his own community with his food. So, it was a surprise to the brunette when he found out that his best friend would leave, especially to a place with such … little technology.  

Of course, he had assumed it had to be him. Did he stink? Did he smell so bad his friend had to leave across the globe? Oh, maybe he did something so embarrassingly stupid he blacked out! And now the blonde was leaving him because of it! Of course, Usopp knew that it couldn’t be that [he never blacked out]. So, it had to be something else he did. Was he too touchy? Or too honest? He knew that all those late-night talks about their feelings would eventually bite him in the ass! 

Whatever the case was, he bit back his protests in favor of his best friend. When they said goodbye, that was that for three years. Three years had passed, and the brunette had grown. It was apparent from his constant habit to Facebook his whole life, or the fact he started working out as a nervous habit. The once scrawny guy who used to be too scared to even stand up for himself was now … well, still scared to stand up for himself- but he was more built now!  

Sanji wasn’t on his mind anymore. The first few months he tried to Facebook messenger his friend, but the messages would never go through. That, or he was being ghosted. Either way, he had to give up at some point, right, and move on! So maybe that’s why he started working out. Every time his mind would wander to his almost infatuation with his friend, he picked up a weight and crunched until he couldn’t think anymore. Was infatuation the right word? More like, constant-need-to-be-around-him-and-touch-him-and-breathe-in-his-scent-itous! And that was totally normal. Best friends always touched each other, like hand holding or cuddling if it got too cold at a sleepover. He couldn’t help but miss that, yet when he started to yearn- he went to do a few pull ups.  

Now Usopp was 22, almost 23, and taller than before. Maybe he grew muscles in his feet too! He’d have to Google that. He hadn’t thought about his old friend in almost three years, opting to live his life in the present rather than focus on the past. Who needed that jerk who ghosted him? Not him! He was happier now! College was about to start up again, his senior year. He had a future career planned in engineering and the student wasn’t about to let some old memories rupture his plans.  

That was until he got a message on Facebook as he was watching TV on his couch. He wasn’t too good with phones, preferring a laptop instead. But this I-Black-Moto-Whatever would work for now. The man pressed a few buttons on the keyboard and used that strange mouse thing to click into his Facebook app. He hadn’t used that app in, honestly, a few hours. Getting a message this late before school wasn’t uncommon, but it wasn’t typical. Clearly someone needed something from him, probably Zoro. Knowing him, the idiot got lost on his way back to the apartment.  

But instead, it was a blank profile he hadn’t seen active in three years, with one message queued: ‘Usopp, can we talk?’ 

His eyes widened at the sight, letting out a breath. What. Was. He. Supposed. To. Do!? Usopp hadn’t prepared for Sanji messaging him out of the blue! He wasn’t even prepared for his upcoming midterms and his semester hadn’t even started!! Instead of acting, however, he opted to set his phone down. As if it was on fire, he dropped it and covered a pillow over it, then pressed his hand to the center.  

Demon phone, being possessed by such negative energy…  

Then he heard it buzz again from under the cushion. That made the student jump and stare down at the cushion. Two messages in the span of about forty-five seconds was a record. Especially for Sanji. It had to have been important, or at the very least something. I mean, radio silence for three years then two messages back-to-back? If anything, he was kind of lucky. The blonde could have just not ever messaged him again, leaving him to wonder what if for eternity. But he did get a message. Two in fact. It would be rude at that point not to respond with something, or at least not read the other one.  

Slowly, the man pushed the pillow from his phone, letting it fall to the ground. Then he picked up the demon phone and turned it, looking at the screen. Another message had queued on the app, from the same person: ‘It’s Sanji. From High School.’ Before he could dare respond, however [or process what the hell was happening], his phone lit up. Someone was calling him. Was it him? Was it the person he swore he’d never see again if he could help it? Was it the person, though, that he deep down secretly hoped would run into him at the supermarket, so he could beg for him to be back in his life?  

Usopp wasn’t even prepared!! The man never knew what he was going to do if Sanji wanted to come back into his life. Frankly, he assumed this would never happen. He just thought they were done with. Forever. So, the fact this was happening, days before his senior year at college, was very very stressful.  

Without looking at the number or caller ID, to verify if it was the contact he never erased from his phone, he clicked the button and brought it to his ear, “...Sanji?” The brunette’s voice was timid, a soft whisper. Never did he think he was ever going to hear the other man's voice again. Or even think that they’d get to see each other. It was almost surreal, a kind of moment he wanted to photograph and save in his memories forever. It could be the beginning of something more, another chance at their friendship. Or it would tie up the loose ends of their old one, leaving them both satisfied with answers.  

“Who the hell is Sanji?”  

But no, it was Zoro.  

Usopp kind of deflated at the sound of the gruff voice on the other line, contrasting the soft voice he had grown to miss. Sanji’s voice was nice and fluttery, although he knew he could raise it to be rough if he needed too. His roommate was definitely gruff, or less emotional than he was used to. The other man was more in touch with his emotions [anxiety], whereas the moss-headed one didn’t feel nearly as many emotions [anxiety] as his roommate. 

He swallowed, “Uh TV character, whaddya want?” The man placed his phone between his shoulder and his head, adjusting his position on the couch to look at the screen ahead of him. It was some YouTube video he had found, nothing he was really interested in. YouTube was just a glorified ad filled Netflix with weird homemade videos. He’d rather watch anything else than the gardening video he ended up clicking on.  

“I got us Chinese food,” Zoro replied into the phone, shuffling a bit into the microphone before he continued, “And I ran into that chick you liked last year. She’s ugly.” From the way his voice muffled a bit, before becoming clear, his roommate could tell he was probably eating some of their dinner. Great.  

“She isn’t ugly!” Usopp retorted, looking away from the TV to find the remote to shut it off. Maybe some Criminal Minds would suffice… 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud exhale, “You have the weirdest type in women.’

“She isn’t ugly,” he narrowed his eyes, taking a hold of the remote and clicking the television off YouTube. What a self-centered sword obsessed prick. Zoro was more focused on Luffy’s [their other roommate] muscles than actual women. He just didn’t have taste! To Usopp, all women were pretty! Even that one girl who tried to get some of his blood to sell on the dark web… To be fair he had a crush on her before he realized she was weird like that. 

“She so is,” he bit into another piece of food audibly, “I have Luffy, too.” Zoro passed the phone to the spikey haired maniac as the brunette sighed out an ‘of course you do’. 

“Heyyyy Sopp!” Luffy yelled into the phone, making his roommate pick his own device up and turn it on speaker phone, to hold it away from his ear, “We got Indian!”  

“I thought Zoro said Chinese?” He asked, a bit unsure. When it came to Zoro, though, he was used to hearing the wrong thing. Maybe he was dyslexic or had one too many boxing incidents, but he had no sense of … anything. Direction, spelling, breathing, direction, walking, anything!! He was unsure as to how the moss was able to survive that long without him in order to watch over him.  

“No, I said Indian,” Roronoa spoke into the phone, before it was pulled back to Luffy who giggled, “We got Indian.”  

As Usopp went to reply he heard another faint voice in the background, who he instantly recognized. He let out a gasp and brought the phone to his face, nose pressing against the small screen, “Put Nami on.” Nami wasn’t exactly their roommate, but she was welcome to live with them if she so chose to. She was one of his closest friends, someone who remembered their high school days with Sanji. She’d understand his anxieties and most of all she’d talk some sense into him. Knowing her, she’d tell him to respond politely instead of hiding away forever. Even though he really wanted to hide forever.  

“Usopp?” Her voice cut clearly through the microphone of his cellphone.  

“Go off speaker, I have important business to discuss,” he wasn’t wrong per se, but he didn’t want to outright say it knowing that Luffy and Zoro could hear. They’d probably laugh at him for freaking out so much! It wasn’t his fault this was basically the end of the world for him!  

The man’s friend let out a sigh and he heard a bit of shuffling before she responded, “What’s wrong now?” Of course, she knew something was wrong! It was Nami! Nami knew everything! He knew he could always count on her for advice and more so to calm his nerves. 

“Well,” Usopp hesitated a bit, his voice pitching another octave before he continued, “Sanji Facebooked me.” 

“Sanji Facebooked you?!” She repeated before the student shushed her loudly.  

“No-no! Don’t say it out loud!” He hit the phone against his head. Then he spoke in a more quiet, shaky voice, “I don’t know what to do.” 

It was silent for a moment, but he could tell she was giving him her signature look, “You’re pathetic.”  

“Hey!” He interjected as she then asked, “What did his Facebook say?” 

Oh … what did it say? Usopp had been so caught up in all the drama of it he kind of forgot what the message said. He pressed his lips together and made a small popping sound, “Um… It’s Sanji from high school…?” That was right, right? Probably.  

“And you answered right?” Nami prodded. By this point he knew his roommates were probably listening, or worse had her put him back on speaker. Cat was out of the bag, and the cat had Facebook, apparently.  

“...Was I supposed to...?” He squeaked. What did it matter if he saw the message and didn’t answer yet? It wasn’t like Sanji could see the fact he had read it without answering.  

“Did you click into the message?” Her voice was beginning to sound annoyed, as if she already knew the answer to what she just asked.  

“Yeahh,” he looked away as his phone jolted in his hand from a loud, “YOU IDIOT!” From Nami. Usopp jumped and his cellphone fumbled a bit in his hand before it landed on the floor before him, shaking as she yelled, “Facebook has read receipts now!” Read receipts? He narrowed his eyes at the phone and peered over the couch as it rumbled around.  

Then it went silent as the phone had been clearly taken from her and Zoro’s voice played through the speaker, “Your Sanji can see you saw his message without responding.” Oh! Oh. He knew? He knew Usopp read the message and seemingly ignored it? Oh god! Oh no! He didn’t mean to ignore his old best friend, more so, he was trying to figure out what to do. I mean, if he had it his way, he would ignore it. Not in a mean way, more in a cowardly way. But knowing Nami, she’d never let him live if he didn’t at least respond. Maybe she was in it more for the drama or she was trying to get him to be a better person than she clearly was.  

The brunette climbed down from the couch onto the floor, kneeling over the phone as he let out a breath, “How far are you guys?” Maybe he could wait for them to get back so he could respond with all their help, instead of being left to navigate it on his own.  

“Thirty minutes!” Luffy shouted from the far side of the phone, “We went to the Indian place across town!” Okay, so he could wait thirty minutes.  

Sanji would just have to be patient; he was patient right? But knowing Sanji he was probably concerned. He knew his old friend well enough to know that if he had read a message without responding it meant something was up, even if he didn’t intend it. That blonde always worried for him, even if he didn’t need it. That’s why they were such good friends. Usopp had someone he could lean on who had just enough emotional un-regulation to understand him and his own anxieties.  

He knew Luffy and Zoro were good friends, and they meant well, but none of them were in tune with their emotions. Nami too, she was nice but she wasn’t the emotional type. He needed someone he could cry to, and someone who would know him well enough to know exactly what to do. In some way, the man wanted to come crawling back to his old friend and pretend no time had passed. Pretend everything was okay so he could be held with comfort and fed those rice balls, those delicious rice balls. 

Usopp went to speak but his ginger friend read his mind, “You’re not waiting. Respond to him then call us back.” And the phone clicked, turning the screen off from the phone call to show his Facebook messages. Sanji’s chat was open, and ten minutes had already passed. He seemed to still be online, his profile picture just being a faceless photo of some scenery. His old friend's profile was the same, and it had been for three years. There was one post he made when he started high school of some flowers, with the caption, ‘Just planted these. Hoping they’ll grow by the time HS ends’. That was his only post. Nothing with his face now or his new place.  

He wondered, did Sanji look the same? Did the blonde grow his hair out or keep it short? Did he change his part and finally brush those strands away to show both of his eyes? Or maybe he finally shaved that annoying stubble on his chin that Usopp would always make fun of. Or he grew it out into a long beard. The man squinted his eyes at the thought, shaking his head. His friend wouldn’t do that, he wasn’t the type to like facial hair like that. And a blonde beard? That would just look strange.  

Usopp sighed and picked up his phone, drumming his thumbs against the keyboard. I mean, he could say hi to start. That wouldn’t be rude, right? It set the stage for a nice conversation! It was polite and cordial, and it said nothing about his desperation to hear his friend's voice again. So, he sent the message, ‘hi’. As he went to put his phone down, it buzzed. Oh. His eyes widened slowly at the realization Sanji had been waiting for him to respond for … ten minutes. Well, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done that before.  

Sanji’s message read, ‘Hi, Usopp. It’s Sanji. Can we talk?’ Weren’t they talking now? Or did he mean over the phone? If his friend wanted to call him all he had to do was that, just call. And if he was honest, the brunette was betting on this. He really wanted to hear that man’s voice again. How soft it was, and how calming it could be.  

So, he responded, ‘yeah let’s talk’. To which he instantly got the reply, ‘What’s your number, I got a new phone.’ Is that why they lost contact, because Sanji lost his number? I mean, that would make sense. But why for three years did he neglect to message Usopp and ask for it? Why was it now that he decided to message and break the ice? Unless something happened. Oh god, was he dying? Was his old best friend dying!? He was probably bald and sick, in the fetal position in a hospital bed!  

Usopp sent his number and set the phone down on the floor beside him. It was quiet. No calls or buzzing for a few minutes, to the point where the man had suspected Vinsmoke only wanted his number to block it. I mean, was this it? Was he never going to hear from him again? Was this a taste of something that was going to be taken even quicker than before? So, it surprised him, causing him to jump just a tad, when his ringer went off. There on the screen was an unfamiliar phone number with an even more unfamiliar area code. He did say he was going far… 

The brunette drummed his fingers against the side of his phone before clicking the answer button, turning it on speaker. God, was it always this nerve wracking to talk to him? Well, before all of this they lived practically next door to each other, in a town Usopp never left. Okay technically, he did leave- now he’s in the city over.  

“Usopp?” A light voice filled his ears from the other side of the phone. It was different from what he had remembered of Sanji’s prepubescent voice. It was airy and dainty, something that reminded him of spring, oddly enough. His voice was gorgeous, so pretty he barely even recognized it until he made a sort of strangled noise, causing his friend to laugh. There it was. The same laugh he was so used to it felt so homely to hear. A breathless laugh, the kind where you knew he’d be covering his open mouth with a lazy fist.

“Sanji,” he responded in a whisper, staring wide eyed at the screen. If only he could Skype on such a small device. That would be neat, right? “You’re real…” Usopp didn’t mean to say aloud, but he couldn’t help it. Some part of him really wished this would’ve happened sooner. Some part of him was dreaming about this day for three years. And that part of him had taken over, taking control of his mouth too.  

There was no response for a few seconds, before he heard the other say, “Of course I’m real… I can’t believe you responded to me.” He sounded shocked, as if he was in as much disbelief as the other man was. But they were both tiptoeing around the subject at hand. Why did Sanji leave him in the dark for three whole years? No messages or calls back? Why did he have to go so far away and seemingly never return until now?  

“Why did you go, Sanji?” Saying his name was foreign, but Usopp never wanted to stop. He missed how it felt on his tongue as it rolled off. He missed hearing his own name from his friend's lips, hearing how elegant it sounded compared to anyone else. That’s what he was, the blonde was elegant. In everything he did, he did it with poise and grace. God, in a way he kind of envied that. All that training in manners and etiquette from his dad really paid off, making the brunette look like a slob in comparison to the other. But he didn’t envy his friend's home life.  

What Sanji went through made sense as to why he’d want to leave. Why he’d want to abandon everything and start over in another country. Yet… he always wondered why he wasn’t asked to come with him. Why didn’t his friend think, maybe my best friend should accompany me? Wasn’t it obvious? Usopp would have followed him to the ends of the Earth if it meant they could’ve been together- platonically that is… With wives. And sex! Yeah… 

It was becoming too quiet on the other end; the student half expected the blonde had hung up on him before he heard a small sniff. Small enough for him to know that he was going to get a loaded answer for his very loaded question.  

“I’m… not the same person,” he heard a shaky voice murmur into the phone, “I was scared you wouldn’t like it…” Wouldn’t like him? Was Sanji kidding? He loved who he was, every bit of it. How could he dislike or even hate him? Even if it had been so long, he couldn’t deny the fact he could never hate his best friend. No matter how hard he tried, Usopp physically couldn’t.  

“I’m happy,” he let out a cry, “I’m finally happy,” there he heard a hiccup, “I miss my home. I’ve been away from home for so long…”  

“Home?” Usopp asked, drawing a blank as to what home his friend missed. Last he checked, he wanted to get out of that house as quickly as possible. How could he miss it? 

“Home is with the people I love,” Sanji inhaled shakily, “I want to go home. I want to,” he hiccupped and sniffed, clearly sobbing more than he had intended to, “I want to go home, Usopp. I’m me and … I want to go home…” It was heartbreaking to hear his friend fall apart, all while he could do nothing but listen. Nodding his head as if the blonde could see it and rubbing the side of the phone as if it was his back. The man didn’t entirely understand all the words his friend sobbed about being himself, but he didn’t care. If he was happy, why was he needing to understand? All he wanted was his best friend back and now he got it, he wasn’t going to lose it.  

“Come home,” he answered, determination rising in his voice, “Please.”  

-

The plan was simple: Sanji and Usopp were going to have a good old-fashioned sleepover. I mean, what's to stop two best friends from sleeping in the same bed after two years? Nothing! If it was too awkward, he’d take the couch and let his guest veg out on his twin XL. Yeah, okay, it was going to be crammed, but nothing that they couldn’t handle!  

Usopp had been counting down the days until his best friend's flight came back, as he had transferred to his college to finish up his last year, Facebooking him any chance he could get. It was truly an addiction. Talking to his friend and being able to hear his voice whenever he so chose to. All the student had to do was pick up the phone and press a few buttons to hear that laugh, that sweet laugh he could trigger with just a few stupid jokes. Now it was the day of, or well, the morning of. Of course, he couldn’t sleep. It was due to a mixture of nerves and pure excitement at the thought of seeing his best friend. Although, his anxiety was beginning to outweigh those bundling feelings of joy, ever since he got the text, ‘When we meet. I need to tell you something important.’  

Okay, so this could have meant about two things: Sanji was dying, or Sanji had a girlfriend. It was more realistic to think his best friend was dying, since he never had luck with women. So that had to be it. I mean, what other major change could he have gone through in three years that fundamentally changed him as a person? At least, that’s what he kept alluding to, that something would be completely and utterly different. It didn’t feel different when they’d sit on the phone and talk into the depths of the night, or text as if no time had passed.  

That’s what scared him.  

What if the change was something more physical that Sanji was insecure about? What if, instead of dying, he had no arms? Or… no legs! That’s ridiculous, he thought, being an aspiring cook detailed a lot of hand work, so he made sure to keep his hands out of danger. So, if he didn’t not have arms or legs … maybe he shaved his head, or did something more permanent. A few tattoos wouldn’t scare him away, or even a lot of tattoos. The thought of his friend with tattoos wasn’t bad actually. As Usopp turned onto his side, trying to sleep, he couldn’t keep that image out of his head. The man who swore he’d quit cigarettes, shirtless with different inking's littering his body- And he sat up. Maybe he should do a pull up.  

It was weird to think of Sanji shirtless! I mean, who did that? Not him. Okay well, occasionally him. It was normal to figure out how time had treated the blonde and how different he would be now. It was normal to imagine how his skin would feel underneath his own hand, tracing small circles against his arm. How soft he was… would he stay that soft? Or has he spent so much time in the sun his skin has turned tougher, like leather. Maybe he did have a few tattoos, something small. Something meaningful in a place he could show off and hide just as easily. Red, it had to be red. If Vinsmoke got anything it needed to be small and with hints of red to contrast his pale skin.  

Usopp had done about twenty pull ups at his door before his roommate had walked out of his room- huh? Zoro had come out of Luffy’s room with a different outfit than what his roommate had seen him go to sleep in. Oddly, they had been becoming so close over the last month and a half. It was strange how they’d exchange glances or longing stares. Was longing even the right word for the types of looks they’d give each other? It was more intimate than that, if that was even a thing that could be considered intimate. Romantic, if he thought too much about it.  

Zoro hadn’t noticed him yet, his back turned to his roommate who was hanging off the pull-up bar in his doorway. He was walking around as if he could trigger a landmine at any moment, making sure each step was quieter than the last to his room. Now that was strange. The guy had never cared about being loud until it was sneaking from Luffy’s room to his own. He never cared until Usopp noticed the strangest looking mark on hi… oh. Slowly, he looked away and began to pull himself back up on the bar. It wasn’t his business anyway, no matter how much the little voice in his head told him to pry. It wasn’t like he wanted to be in on the loop if his roommates were dating each other. Not like he wanted to be the first to know, or anything.  

Was he wrong for feeling bitter? They never owed him anything, but he had assumed all of them were close. He always let Luffy use his fancy coffee maker and Zoro his DVD collection. And Usopp was the one who even suggested the three of them room together, over using the dormitories. They had been in the same English class, in need of roommates. It was a shot in the dark but it paid off. At least, he had assumed. Now, was it even worth it to ask what was up? Would a, “hey I know you guys are boinging but I wanted to know first so I could’ve made you a celebratory sodomy cake” be too weird? 

The student’s thoughts were interrupted by the fifth pull-up when Zoro opened his door, jumping at the sight of him, “How… long have you been there?” His eyes were wide, staring like he had seen a ghost. Usopp blinked a few times and pulled himself higher on the bar, before slowly letting go and jumping onto the floor. He could be honest and tell the truth; say he saw the mark and the fact they were being sneaky. There wasn’t any point in lying when they were both standing and staring at each other. His roommate's face was riddled with sleep, deep in his dark features as they exchanged looks. It would have been more awkward to say nothing, right?  

He went to speak, putting his hand on his own neck, which caused Roronoa to pull at the collar of his shirt. Over the mark. Just that movement alone had spoken more words than he had intended to, speaking volumes. It said, ‘I know you guys have been sneaking around and, yeah, I saw your neck thing’. It also said, ‘I wish you guys would’ve told me instead of hiding.’ Maybe the moss saw it on the others face, from how he frowned with anxiety, or how he darted his eyes to avoid the inevitable words to come.  

“So… You know, don’t you?” Zoro looked away before continuing, “I thought you’d be, I dunno, upset.” Upset? How could he be upset if his friends were happy? Usopp was more upset over the fact he wasn’t told, but it was neither here nor there. He had things to do that day and someone more important was coming, in all honesty. So, not that it didn’t matter. But he wasn’t going to ruin his day with a soured mood. Instead, he was going to take it in stride. Which was harder for him, but for Sanji he would.  

Usopp pressed his lips together and let his shoulders shrug loosely, “Zoro, you know I’d never be upset with you for something like that. I’m just glad you’re happy.” And he meant it. Even if he wasn’t told before, he knew now. That’s all that mattered, he supposed.  

The two heard a bit of shuffling behind the green-haired one as Nami appeared, looking as if she had just woken up from the sounds of their voices. She rubbed the side of her head with a gentle palm, her ginger hair pulled back into a messy bun, “Why the hell are you guys being so loud for 10 AM?” It was 10? How long had he been doing pull-ups? He must’ve miscounted… He swore he had done just 20… 

“Usopp knows me and Luffy are…” He trailed off, which elicited an offended gasp from his roommate. 

“Oh, you told Nami but not me?” Usopp frowned and pointed a finger at him, “I live with you! All she does is leech off our takeout orders!” He wasn’t wrong, she only did come over when Zoro and Luffy were in the city for food. Or when he needed emotional support 

“So mature Mr-I’m-having-my-old-situationship-sleep-in-my-bed-after-three-years!” She retorted, “He told me because I keep my mouth shut.”  

His eyes widened, “I shut my mouth!” He does not.  

Zoro narrowed his eyes, forming a tight smile, “Remember the pineapple?” 

“Yeah, pineapple!” Nami shouted to which Luffy’s door opened and he groggily peaked out, mumbling, “Hmhmgm pine…apple?” His boyfriend beckoned the sleepy student over with one arm and let out a breath as the other slumped into his side, clearly also just waking up.  

“Don’t bring the pineapple into this,” Usopp spoke, pressing his teeth together and restraining his jaw from making them grind together. 

“You did talk for the pineapple,” Luffy mumbled, pressing his face into Zoro’s pectoral, causing his other roommate to roll his eyes.  

“I had to tell the aut- you know what I’m not arguing with you guys,” he placed his hands on either of his hips, letting his foot tap against the wood as he debated what to say. Well, today was the day. His roommates knew vaguely who Sanji was, whereas Nami had had classes with him for several years. They knew he was blonde and liked to cook and, well, that was about it. There weren’t enough words in the human language, across all languages, to describe how truly amazing he was. How utterly fantastic he was to be around, how his company was unlike anyone else's he’s ever been in. So, he instead wanted them to get to know him themselves, rather than have some expectation of him built up.  

- 

“He said he’s at terminal B, with his luggage,” Usopp said as the group headed down the airport, looking for his old friend. Luffy and Zoro had been told to look out for a relatively tall, lanky man, with blonde hair covering his left eye. Simple enough, he supposed.  

Except for the sea of people he was searching through, he couldn’t find him. Where was the man he had been waiting for, for three years to see? He was searching through the crowds, hoping to stop and make eye contact with the person he had been, well, yearning for. Yearning was a very… Well, it wasn’t the word he was looking for but it was the closest one he had! Yearning without the homosexual undertones that he didn’t have because he wasn’t gay.  

“I think we passed term B,” Luffy chimed in, walking on his roommates left.  

The man turned his head, letting his curly hair fall behind him [that he had styled back into a ponytail for this occasion], as he gaped, “What do you mean we passed it!? Sanji’s probably waiting for us!” With that he stopped and turned on his heel, pulling his small cell phone from his jacket pocket to see if there were any new messages. Of course, it had been two minutes since he sent his message so there wasn’t a new notification.  

“I think he’ll be fine waiting,” Zoro gruffed, opting to stay behind the two eager ones with Nami, who enjoyed taking her time as well. It wasn’t a big deal to them if they got to Sanji right as his plane landed, but it was a big deal to the other two. Although Luffy was more so there for the ride. 

Usopp craned his neck to send a glare his roommate's way, “We are not making him wait any longer!”  

“I think an extra few minutes wouldn’t hurt,” Nami attempted to interject but she was slowly stopped by the vicious look that her friend hurled her way. He was so serious, more serious than she had ever seen him in his life.  

“It’s just rude to make people wait when they land from flights. He’s probably jetlagged! It’s really the principle of it,” and he continued on.  

He didn’t want to keep his friend waiting after so long. I mean, a flight that long surely had to have him worn out. Usopp knew all the blonde wanted to do was curl up and sleep, preferably with him. I mean, in the same bed. They always used to nap together in their high school years. It wouldn’t be too weird if they shared a bed again, so napping together shouldn’t be weird either. He just wanted to lie there, feeling his friend's body warmth beside him. Skin brushing against skin as the brunette let his hands trail to Sanji’s hair, lightly running his fingers through it. Combing through the strands.  

As he spoke, he didn’t notice a woman approaching him from behind. She was taller, looming over him with heels adorning her feet. Long blonde hair that was pulled back at the bangs to show two pairs of shining blue eyes. Nami was the first to spot her and when she did her eyes widened just a bit with understanding, before she smiled. Zoro and Luffy didn’t realize, ignoring her to focus on Usopp’s intelligible ranting about proper airline etiquette.  

“Um, excuse me?” The woman asked, lightly tapping Usopp’s shoulder. It brought him out of his words and made him turn his head. They looked at each other and there was an air of familiarity there. Something was different, but something was earnestly familiar. She looked like home, like someone he had waited for all his life finally back to him.  

“Can I help you?” Usopp ended up asking, although he had more questions than that. Who was she? She looked like someone he had known, but that face was long forgotten. This face was the face he had pictured when thinking about his friend, the original image lost to the depths of his mind. It couldn’t be … but it wouldn’t… could it?  He just stared, trying to piece together a growing puzzle before him. All the while her eyes were growing glassy.  

“Do I know you?” He asked, staring at her with narrowed eyes and a hollow expression. She felt so far away from him. Almost as if she was across the terminal and he had to run to see her, to feel her.  

“I’d hope so,” and there was the laugh. The laugh he knew so well.  

Had it just been three years? And was this the change? Only this?  

Why would this make him hate … her?  

It made so much sense now. All those longing glances to women, or their dresses, or the constant twirling of strands of hair between her fingers. The magazines he found underneath her bed, the lipstick she swore was her mothers. The lipstick he always wondered about. How it would look on her, contrasting her skin. She wasn’t the same person, no, she was herself now. Sanji was herself and Usopp couldn’t help but feel incredibly at ease seeing her, with grown out hair and mascara on her long lashes.  

“Usopp?” Sanji murmured, placing her palm against her forehead in disbelief. He nodded slowly, then again, and again until he forced himself into her arms. She wrapped her arms around him as he did for her, bracing her to his chest. She smelt like oranges and other sweet fruits, something homely. It wasn’t the smell he was used to, the one he remembered, but it was something he never wanted to end. His hands entangled in her hair, the strands he had been fantasizing about for days. He missed it, he missed the soft way it felt against his fingers.  

And he missed her. Her. Not anyone else. Not Sanji before, but Sanji now. Whoever he knew before was gone and he was so utterly glad. “You’re real…” He breathed out, pressing his face into her neck, “You’re so real…” The blonde let out a gasp and he could tell she was crying. Was he crying too? Maybe just a bit. Usopp didn’t think about the others watching them, and he didn’t care to remember them. All he wanted to focus on was her. How she felt in his arms and how he never wanted to let go. I mean, friends felt like this right? A protective urge to make sure she would never leave no matter what. She would never leave him. 

-

His roommates insisted on leaving the two of them in the airport cafe to catch up, wanting to look at the souvenirs instead. Although, Usopp wasn’t sure how interesting souvenirs from their home town would be. I mean, how many plush bears could they buy with their state abbreviation on them before it got boring? Either way, he wasn’t focused on that.  

He couldn’t help but stare at her. The way she stood as she ordered coffee for the both of them. She knew exactly what he wanted without having to ask, effortlessly laughing as the barista made small talk with her. Sanji’s lips shone in the pale light, a pretty pink painting them in a way he had never seen before. It was glossy and a bit sparkly too if he looked up closely. Pink was a pretty color, but he wanted to know what that lipstick from their childhood would have looked like. That dark red with hints of berry undertones against her pale skin tone.  

She insisted on waiting for the coffees while he found them a place to sit. Usopp didn’t mind, finding a nice seat by the window that looked out onto the rest of the airport. He sat down and found himself looking out the window for about a minute or so, before his attention drew back to her. Her hair had gotten so long, and it was pushed out of her face now. He remembered when they were younger and the blonde had insisted her hair should cover a bit of her face. He was so glad she had a clip pushing her hair back to show her eyes. Were they always that blue? Was there a chance her eyes had gotten bluer over the years? And that smile, it never changed. Maybe it was brighter now, more authentic. Prettier. Yeah, prettier. It suited her.  

As he watched her, he couldn’t help but notice the barista giving her a certain look. I mean, he knew she was attractive but that was a bit much. The way he almost outwardly flirted with her in an airport of all places made him frown. Okay we get it, he wanted to scoff, looking away to the window with a hand propping his head up. But then Usopp froze. Why was he feeling so … would jealous be the right word? No, protective? No, no. It felt almost like disgust, a visceral reaction to anyone hitting on her. Anyone getting near her… Anyone touching her- Oh god. This was new. He had never experienced this before. In fact, everything she did was making him feel so strange.  

He tried to swallow them as Sanji sat down across from him, two cups of coffee in her hands. She set one down in front of him and the other beside her, smiling nervously, “It was your old order in high school. I don’t know if you still like that stuff…” There was a weird feeling building in Usopp’s throat as she looked away. Everything she did was making him feel just that, weird. The way she pressed her glossed lips together, or how her eyelashes brushed against her cheek. Sure, she was pretty and he could acknowledge that, but she was starting to make him feel itchy in his skin.  

After he didn’t respond for a minute they made eye contact, and he remembered he had to speak, “Oh, uh, I like it. I haven’t had,” he turned the cup over to look at the order sprawled on the side, but his breath caught in his throat. Usopp didn’t realize she remembered every aspect of his order, down to the milk and pumps of syrup. He had assumed she knew the general order of a matcha latte, but he didn’t know she remembered it… all.  

“You remembered,” the brunette whispered instead, not bothering to finish off his sentence.  

Sanji’s eyes met his and she looked away in apparent embarrassment, a pink blush rising on her cheeks and forming down the bridge of her soft nose, “How could I not remember!” She laughed stiffly, “You used to order it all the time after school!”  

“It’s been three years. I didn’t even remember,” Usopp let himself smile, but he was soon overtaken by that weird uncomfortable feeling again. It settled in his stomach and made his smile falter for a moment. The feeling was different than anything he had felt toward his best friend before, causing him to come to a conclusion: He must be misogynistic.  

. 

.. 

… 

I’m misogynistic!? 

The wheels began to turn in his head, clicking as the gears grinded. It made so much sense. He had no issues with Sanji before but now he had issues. The only thing that was different was her gender, so he must have started hating women sometime after she left him. I mean, he always felt weird around Nami and the women he had crushes on, so it made sense that he secretly hated women without knowing he hated women. All the true misogynists were so misogynistic they didn’t even know it, being so deep into their anti-woman rhetoric, you see.  

It made sense. Every movement she made was making his skin burst aflame, as if he’d stop breathing if she kept looking at him like that. So now that he knew he hated women, what was he going to do!? I mean, she was going to be sleeping in his bed for a week! Well, until her dorm was ready for her to move into. It could be a week, or it could be well over a month. Not like he was complaining- oh but he was complaining! He was going to have to share a bed with a woman, the thing he just realized he hated! 

“Usopp?” Sanji’s voice broke through his thoughts, making him blink to remember where he was again. It was silly, he tried to calm himself. Maybe he wasn’t misogynistic but instead nervous to see her after so long! “Did you hear me?” She tilted her head, resting her chin on an open palm. The movement made his stomach do a flip, and he was back to the misogynistic drawing board.  

“Uh, repeat it for me again?” Usopp trailed off, smiling awkwardly.  

She nodded and continued a bit sheepishly, “I’ve been thinking about you for three years. So, I haven’t really forgotten…” The blonde’s finger traced small circles around her cup, not daring to drink it yet. Her eyes were on him, before she spoke again, “I really wanted to contact you, but I felt too scared that you’d-” But she was cut off by a signature awkward laugh from Usopp.   

“Haha! You! Scared? Me? Hah! I’m… bathroom now!” And he got up, darting from the coffee shop around the corner.  

God! How stupid was he! Of course, he’d have a misogynistic revelation right as he reunited with his best friend, totally ruining the moment. I mean, he could swallow it and hope that this wasn’t misogyny but instead pent-up anxiety coming out in the form of women hating, well, hatred. He should swallow it. The worst-case scenario was he could sleep on the couch and hope it would pass as the week went on. Yeah. It would pass. It would pass and he would be able to enjoy his best friend's company without all of these feelings floating around inside his head. Feelings if she got too close to that barista again, if she looked at him through her long eyelashes, or if she smiled. The smile he loved, the smile he still adored, was being tainted with his own women hating feelings now, wasn’t it?  

They got back to his apartment soon after that. Usopp tried his hardest to ignore his very weird outburst and make her comfortable, regaling her with a story about a play he had the honor of being a tree for back in his first year of college. He was able to swallow his hatred for a bit, focusing on anything else but her. Sitting on the couch, he opted to put Luffy in between them. He didn’t need Nami near him either. Two women was something he wasn’t ready to battle yet.  

Sanji got along with his roommates great, better than he could have ever expected. She offered to cook, although she didn’t have to. She practically insisted, begging them to let her try out a new recipe with whatever she could find in their cabinets [which would not be a lot]. As she cooked, she glided with ease across their small kitchen, going back and forth from boiling the rice to cutting the vegetables on a plate [since they didn’t own cutting boards]. The woman looked ethereal, making Usopp look away instantly when she caught him staring. Why was he staring so long? Was it the hatred of women seeping back out making him ultra focused on her movements so he could promptly feel disgusted afterwards? That had to be it!  

“Usopp,” she called, breaking him from his thoughts again. He turned on his heel and watched her smile form, “Could you tie my hair back?” She nodded down to her hands which were busy with raw chicken, doing whatever it was she had to do with that stuff. Usopp wasn’t big on cooking, so truthfully, he had no idea.  

Touch her. Touch her hair. Well, he had done it earlier when he was overcome with joy from seeing her. So, he could do this! He could do this! The student smiled tightly and followed her command, falling into a step to stand behind her. His hands ran through her strands as he had imagined doing so for days. Soft. It was so soft. When they initially met, he didn’t get the chance to truly soak in how soft her hair was. Usopp took a spare hair tie from his wrist and gathered her blonde strands by the base of her head, bringing it up into a soft bun. Something that he figured would suit her. Yeah. It was pretty.  

It was so pretty, as Sanji looked over her shoulder to thank him, a few hairs falling out of place from behind her ear. Without thinking, the man reached out and tucked them back behind her ear, taking his time dragging his fingers down her earlobe. As he realized what he had done, especially seeing her facial expression, he pulled away. Her lips had parted, as if she was about to speak, and her crystal blue eyes were widened. Why would he do that? Why would he go ahead and do that without thinking!? Stupid, stupid, stupid Usopp! He pressed his lips together and took a step back, wanting to apologize but he … couldn’t. He would have never done that to a man, so why did he do that to her? Did his women hating ideologies also mean he had to push their hair behind their ears and caress their earlobes, too!? 

“Usopp,” Sanji began but she was cut off with a nervous noise escaping his lips, followed by a, “HOLD ON!” The man turned away and made a b-line to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. His back pressed against the door, forcing it shut away from the world. No one else saw that, right? No one else should have. It was weird, God, he was so weird, wasn’t he? Of course, he was. No rational person would be misogynistic and no rational person would take it out on the one person he had been so excited to see for weeks. He was being such a bad friend, wasn’t he? Being so weird and thinking these things, and feeling these kinds of ways.  

Usopp turned the lock on his door and stumbled away to his desk. If he couldn’t come up with answers on his own, as to why he was feeling this way, maybe the internet could help him. It was a long shot, as he was never very good at the internet, but he could try. There was anything and everything on those forums he had heard so much about, there had to be something on misogyny, right?  

So, as he logged into Bing, waiting for his computer to load, he thought about what to search. He could go to Wikihow, and figure out how to tell if you’re truly misogynistic or just weird. Or… worst case scenario, both. Maybe he could go to this website he had heard about called Buzzfeed. Take a few quizzes and hope for the best, he supposed.  

The first quiz he found was titled, “Are you misogynistic?” It was straightforward and to the point, which was what he needed. The first few questions weren’t too weird, like do you have women friends and should women have the right to vote, all things he said yes to. Then it got a bit strange.  

“Do you think men are the superior gender…?” He read aloud, squinting a bit at the screen. Wasn’t that what misogyny was about? And if he was feeling uncomfortable around women, he was bound to think that too, right? So, he decided to click yes, moving onto the next question.  

The rest of the questions had that same kind of air to them, all about how men were superior and women being less than. Each question he chose the yes answer to, as he thought that’s what he felt. Clearly, though, as the audience we know better than that. When the answer screen came up, Usopp felt his world shatter. It said he had a probability of 85% being misogynistic, with the other 15% being inconclusive as to if he was or not. So, he was then. That was all the evidence needed. I mean, the internet was always right, right? Especially Buzzfeed, or whatever website he was on at the moment.  

He went to click out of the tab, but the man heard a knock on his door. He grabbed his laptop and slammed the top closed as the door opened, his best friend’s head peering through the door to look at him. Alone, sitting in the dark, panting a bit, was what she saw of him. Well, it was better than if she had seen the tab opened on his screen, right?  

“Are you okay? Dinners done, I brought you a plate if you didn’t want to eat with everyone,” Sanji spoke softly, as she always did. She was quiet as she entered, closing the door behind herself with her hip and lightly turning on a light. How was she always so kind to him, even if he was such a complete weirdo to her? Even in high school she offered him a kind ear and a plate full of food, even when he didn’t deserve it. He never deserved it. He never deserved her kindness, especially with this new revelation about his personal beliefs.  

“I’m okay,” Usopp smiled at her, reaching out for the plate as she handed it to him. Chicken fried rice, and it looked amazing. He hadn’t realized he was hungry until he smelt it, setting it on top of his closed laptop. His bed was in the center of the room, he noted as she sat down on the edge, just on the floor. The student had never thought to splurge on the fancy stuff like a box spring or a headboard. Sleeping practically on the floor was good enough for him, he supposed.  

“Zoro was telling me about a girl you liked last year. He said she was ugly,” she said suddenly, an air of teasing to her voice as she looked over at him, “I didn’t know you had piss poor taste in women.”  

He turned his head to his best friend, scrunching his face in disapproval, “He always brings her up. She was very pretty.” 

“Was?” She raised an eyebrow.  

“Is,” a frown pulled on his lips, “She’s pretty. Just into blood sacrificing stuff.” He shrugged, waving a hand in the air before continuing, “I think all my exes are pretty.” Exes. Usopp couldn’t believe he could even say he had exes. In high school he had always dreamed of being able to say he dated women, and now he could. It was kind of hollow, showing him, he couldn’t hold down a relationship even if he tried. Three ex-girlfriends, all a copy pasta of each other. Was that misogyny, too? Dating women who looked the same? 

“How many exes have you had?” Sanji asked curiously, “I’ve only had maybe … five,” she said, as though it wasn’t a large number. As if it could be larger. That was Sanji for him, always thinking there could be more when it came to romance. More women, more men, or stuff like that.  

“Oh wow, I’ve just had three. I think we went to high school with almost all of them,” and he listed their names, ticking them off with his fingers. Sanji’s eyes hardened as she watched him, her brow slightly furrowing as he continued on, detailing when they dated and when they broke up. “They all wanted me after I, you know, got more fit.” He motioned to his person a bit stiffly, trying to laugh under her intense gaze. Had he said something wrong? Was it weird to talk about exes with your old friend? 

“They’re all blonde,” Sanji murmured after a moment, her lips barely ghosting one another as she spoke. They looked so full in the dull light of his room, glittering from the angle he was at. For a split second, Usopp wondered how they would feel underneath his fingers. Just trailing his thumb across her bottom lip before letting go and pushing away. How would the skin on her face feel under his palm, as he cupped her face. How would she react if he nuzzled his nose against her cheek and inhaled her citrus like scent?  

He hadn’t thought about the fact they were all blonde. I mean, they did kind of look the same. Usopp nodded, “I guess they are. Are your ex's blonde, too?” He raised his eyebrows, still not quite understanding why her gaze was so intense.  

“No,” she breathed out, “Brunette. I like brunettes better.” Usopp’s stomach turned into a knot, panging deep in his body as she spoke. Why did that make him feel so incredibly nauseous? Was just hearing about her type triggering his misogyny!?  

He blinked a few times and pressed his lips together to attempt to form a line, but it was breaking into an awkward smile, “You know I’m tired. I think I’m gonna sleep,” the student stood and motioned to the bed, “You don’t have to go to sleep now if you don’t want.” He just needed and out of these feelings building in his chest, and if it meant sleeping a bit early, he’d do it. I mean, he could always see his roommates tomorrow. And knowing Nami, she’d be staying for as long as she wanted if it involved free food.  

Sanji stood as well, nodding her head slowly, “I’ll get ready.” That was all she said before she exited the room and left the man alone with his thoughts. Well great, he was going to have to sleep in the same bed with the gender he just found out he hated. He had hoped she was going to stay up with his roommates so he would be asleep by the time she went to sleep. But he couldn’t get everything he had ever wanted, right? Instead of complaining, he pulled his shirt off and slid on some pajama pants, plopping down onto the side of the bed he always slept on the most, the right. He laid on his side and covered himself with a few blankets, trying to will himself to sleep before she got back.  

There was a fifteen-minute period where he was alone, where Usopp tried so desperately to sleep. When the door opened again, and he was still awake, he mentally groaned and turned on his back to see her. Sanji was wearing a tank top that framed her body and her new assets well- although he wasn’t staring! He wasn’t a pervert! No, he was a misogynist.  

Quickly, he glanced away and turned on his other side to face where she would be laying. She sat down onto the bed and shuffled onto the mattress, covering her side in a blanket and staring at him. Her face was bare from makeup, showing bits of freckles poking across her cheeks. Her eyelashes looked the same, and her lips did too. They were still pink, maybe stained from whatever product she had worn before. But soft, they looked so utterly soft. He really just wanted to reach out and touch her face, for a moment.  

“Hi,” Usopp whispered, blinking slowly at her.  

“Hey,” she replied, brushing one of her hands past her ear to push some hair from her face, “I missed this.”  

“Staring at each other?” He raised an eyebrow, to which she nodded.  

“Yeah. I like watching you sleep,” a smile pulled at Sanji’s lips as she looked away, “Did you watch me sleep?”  

Usopp looked away as well, trying his hardest to ignore his thoughts and those overwhelming feelings brewing in his throat, “I mean…”  

“Be honest,” she put a hand on his, that had been resting on the pillow before him. It was soft, sending electric waves through his body as she intertwined their fingers, “You’re going to make me sound creepy if you don’t answer, Usopp.” She was always soft, he thought, remembering their old sleepovers. She was soft and warm, and plush, and God, she always smelt good. He had to admit, he wouldn’t just watch her sleep. He’d bask in her everything until she woke and he’d pretend to be asleep.  

He hesitated, before nodding, “Yeah, I have.” Then it was quiet for a few beats before he spoke up again, “If I fall asleep first are you gonna watch me?” Her hand was so warm, almost lulling him into sleep. If only she was just beside him, pressed against his chest so he could bury his face in her hair… Usopp blinked a few more times, quicker than before as he tried to snap himself out of that thought process. God, that was creepy! Clearly, being misogynistic also meant he was bound to be creepy too.  

Sanji smiled, biting down on her bottom lip, “Maybe. Only if I really want to.”  

“If you want to?”  

“I want to lay next to you,” she spoke quietly, squeezing her hand that held his, “Like we did when we were younger.”  

For just one moment, he wanted to pretend nothing had changed. For one night, he wanted to act like they were back in high school, holding each other and talking about nothing until the sun rose. For one night, he wanted to press a kiss to her shoulder while she slept, knowing she was still coherent enough to remember it the next day. And for one night, he wanted to be the one to fall asleep last. He knew Sanji felt the same way. He knew all she wanted was to go back and pretend nothing had changed, that three years wasn’t three years but a day. That she never left but instead stayed, lived with him. Moved in with him at college. Cooked him food every day. Was his- his friend that is. 

But he had to realize that she chose to live her life away from him, instead of what could’ve been. She chose to leave and every day he had to come to terms with the fact that it never would happen. She would never live with him, cook for him, or stay by his side. Because instead of a day passing, as he so desperately wished, three years left.  

He was completely different now. 

“Okay,” Usopp finally said, letting go of her hand forcefully and patting the space between them, “C’mere,” he mumbled, letting a new wave of exhaustion take over his face. He closed his eyes and felt two slender arms wrap around his back and her face press against his chest. This wasn’t the position he had expected her to take, but he didn’t mind. He pulled her in and curled around her form, chin resting atop her head.  

For one night, they were going to pretend like no time had passed. Even if it was so apparent that it had.  

-

Usopp hated waking up that week. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own, being thrust out of his peaceful dreams into a misogynistic sweat. Every day, he awoke to see Sanji nestled beside him, snoring lightly. Her hair was splayed across her forehead and her hand was always interlocked with his. Fingers twitching from deep sleep. It was cute for a moment, before that panging anxiety filled him. And he was back to realizing that this wasn’t as he wanted. He was holding her but at what cost? Secretly, deep down, he hated her and her gender. Everything she stood for; his subconscious hated it.  

That’s what he told himself, at least. 

A week had passed and her dorm still wasn’t prepared for her to live. It didn’t matter to her, meaning she got to spend more time with her old best friend. That was all she seemingly wanted, and it pained him to feel these feelings. Every time he saw her, his heart caught in his throat and made the words he wished he could say barely come out. Every time they made eye contact, he forgot where he was and uttered nonsense to cover it up. And every time she touched him, held his hand, brushed her arm against his, he felt like he was burning from the inside out.  

That morning especially, he was on fire. His arm was on the pillow beside him, hooked around the blonde as she clung to it. As if it was just natural to touch him like that. Usopp had been awake for a bit before she stirred, just watching her. He watched as her breathing steadied and her eyes slowly fluttered open. It was anxiety inducing to hear her groan and turn to face him. Her eyes widened just a bit seeing him stare back at her quizzically. 

“Did I wake you?” She murmured, bringing her soft fingers to push blonde strands away from her face. Sanji looked like a dream, painted by the finest oil paints for Usopp to drink in. For a moment he forgot his misogynistic feelings, his anxiety, all of it. He was stuck watching her chapped lips and her tired, sunken eyes with awe. She was beautiful, in every sense of the word. No- she was more than beautiful. She was ethereal.  

“No, I’ve been up,” Usopp breathed out, bringing his right arm to wrap around her waist, resting his hand against her back. It was unconscious, pulling her in and relaxing at her laugh. For a moment he forgot why he was so anxious to be around her. He forgot his anxieties and instead focused on her warmth, radiating off of her body onto his. 

“I had a dream about you,” her voice was quiet, whispering against his skin. 

“Hm? What was it about?” Usopp asked, looking down at his friend.  

“I cooked you eggs and then you exploded. Oh, because it was so good, you know,” Sanji laughed as he looked away to her shoulder, letting his thumb rub small circles into her back. It was quiet as they fell into a nice silence, that she broke after a few seconds,  “Usopp?” The brunette looked down at his friend, “Do you want to do something today?” At that, he glanced away. He never said no to her, at least he tried not to. And hanging out with her was always fun … in a group setting. The truth of the matter was he had been avoiding one on one interactions, even cutting their late-night talks short by feigning sleep.   

“Yeah, I think Luffy’s probably available- oh and Nami. I think Zoro’s working…” Usopp shifted onto his back, as he thought aloud, adjusting his arms to keep his left around her, while the other stretched out to the ceiling, “We could go to the mall. They have a Macys with, you know,” he glanced at her, “Clothes.” 

Sanij sat up, pressing her palm to her brow bone as she stretched her body away from her friend. She always opted to wear loose fitted tank tops when she slept, which Usopp always tried not to stare at. Being a new misogynist, he realized that creepiness was a part of it too. He tried to push away as much as possible. Yet, every time he saw her exposed skin, he couldn’t help but feel sick. A sickness that called to him, begging him to touch her skin. Just feel it beneath his fingers and wonder why it was so warm. 

“What if,” she looked back at him with her voice tight from her ongoing stretch, “We went alone?” Her hand slipped into her blonde hair, fingers entangling by the root. Slowly, she combed down to her long ends, repeating the motion methodically as she waited for an answer. Usopp never wanted to deny her anything her heart desired, truly, but this was going to kill him. If he was alone with her for more than a few minutes, he was fine. But a few hours? The entire day? Oh, he was going to have to plan his funeral now! 

The man looked away, pressing his lips together, “Yeah,” a croak escaped his lips as he sat himself up, “Yeah, let’s do it.” He gave her a tight smile, something he hoped she wouldn’t read into. Something he hoped she wouldn’t try to ask about later.  

Sanji gave him a small look, but it melted away into a smile, “I can make us breakfast.”  

The brunette shook his head, “Nooo, you’ve been making breakfast everydayyyy.” Not that he didn’t love her cooking, but he didn’t want her to overwork herself, cooking every meal for him. Instead, he pulled his phone out and handed it to her, on a Food Delivery app, “Get Chinese.”  

Sanji took his phone and tilted her head, “What about Indian?” She asked, scrolling through the app and pressing the tile for Chinese restaurants in their area anyway. 

“I had that, like, two weeks ago,” Usopp peered over to the phone to watch as she inputted her order, “And I’ve been craving Chinese for, like, two weeks.”  

The blonde looked at him, narrowing her eyes, “What happened two weeks ago?” Well, two weeks ago she contacted him. And two weeks ago, Zoro had promised Chinese food, only to bring home Indian food. Which was delicious, but not at all what he had been craving.  

“Zoro lied to me,” a laugh came from his lips before he could help it, “I think he had an accident at birth that made him, you know, directionally challenged,” Usopp spoke, waving his hand with a slightly limp wrist to convey his point.  

“Oh, he was a preemie?” Sanji handed him his phone, which he saw also had his order on it too. She had remembered it.  

The thought pulled at his heart and caused a wave of nausea, as he replied, “No he was born.” 

She stared at him for a moment, silently figuring out what it meant. Until it clicked and she laughed, leaning back on the bed and putting a hand over the top of her collarbone, “Oh! He was the accident!” 

Sanji’s laugh was incredible. He couldn’t help but stare as she smiled, letting out tumbling breaths of laughter. Strands of blonde hair fell into her face as she leaned forward and brushed her index finger at the corner of her eye, stopping the incoming tears from her joy. It wasn’t even that funny of a joke, let alone Usopp’s funniest joke. But she found it funny. In some way, she found it funny and it did something to him. It pulled his stomach down and then up, stretching it thin in his body as he watched her.  

Oh, he was going to be sick.  

Usopp stood up and made his way to the door as she steadied her breathing, giggling and repeating the joke occasionally to herself.  

“I’m gonna get ready,” he called out, forcing his own body to move as he went into the bathroom and locked himself inside. His brown eyes stared back from across the sink as he hunched over the porcelain. This wasn’t normal. This couldn’t be normal misogyny. Misogyny was a hatred for women, not the gender making you sick! I mean, unless he had unlocked some kind of rare form of true misogyny. Unless he was the ultimate misogynist who felt so much hatred it manifested into sickness.  

His hands gripped the edge of the sink as his breathing came to him in shallow bursts. Never before had he felt like utter garbage, especially because of her. Because she was doing nothing more than laughing, God he was a prick. He had to call someone, tell someone. Ask for help. Pray for help and hope they could save him from this level of pure evil. 

Shakily, the man pulled his phone from his pocket. Who could he call? Nami was probably asleep somewhere in the apartment, Luffy was at the gym at this time, and Zoro was at work. Calling Nami was the obvious answer, but she didn’t answer the phone. He didn’t want to tempt fate and call her multiple times in fear of sparking her rage. Luffy was the next answer, but he wasn’t very good at keeping secrets or truly understanding human emotions. He was a good friend, but not good with feelings. 

So, Zoro was his last resort. He called, and called, until the moss answered exacerbated, “Long-nose you better be dying,” he gritted out through apparent clenched teeth, on the other line. Okay, so that might have been a mistake, the brunette thought as he awkwardly stared back at himself. He couldn’t recognize the disheveled man before him, who looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“Zoro-” Usopp tried quietly, but he was interrupted with a rant.  

“What is so important you had to call me ten times!?” Okay so this was definitely a mistake.  

“Zoro let me-” Cut off again.  

“You’re so lucky I was outside taking out the trash-” Zoro spat as he was cut off by a loud, “I’M MISOGYNISTIC!” 

It went silent on that end; however, he could hear shuffling come from outside. It sent a sinking pang of fear through Usopp’s stomach as he came to the realization Sanji must have heard him. 

The image of her crumbling because of his words- no, his beliefs- it was making him sick. If she cried because of his words, fell apart and sobbed, he would hate himself. He would hate every fiber of his own being if he was the reason she spoke low of herself, or even thought lowly of herself. He never wanted her to hurt, let alone from his stupid actions.  

“Usopp did you say something?” He heard her voice suddenly through the door, knocking gently on the white wood. A wave of relief flooded his features as he realized, no, she didn’t hear him. She probably heard a commotion and went to check on him, because of course she would. Because she was kind. 

The male released a breath and closed his eyes, deflating back against the sink, “No, Sanji,” he called back, placing the phone to his ear to hear more silence, “Zoro…?”  

There wasn’t a response for a bit, until he heard a small groan, “I’ll have Luffy take Sanji out when I get home. So, me, you, and Nami can understand what the hell you mean by misogynistic.” And the line clicked on the other end, leaving him to stare back at himself.  

-

The two drove in silence to the mall, with some soft music playing from the radio. It was a song Usopp didn’t quite catch the name of but Sanji enjoyed it, humming along quietly as she gazed out the window at the large city buildings. Living in the town over from his childhood home, he knew the area like the back of his hand. The roads were slightly congested, but as they delved away from the heart of the metropolis into the outskirts of town, it got smoother.  

“You know, there is something I want to buy,” Usopp began, signaling to change lanes to the right turn lane, craning his neck over to check it was empty. The car ride was comfortable, especially since he knew he would be able to finally get this weight off of his chest. Get this dark secret off and tell someone without consequence. Well, not that many consequences anyway. 

“What are you gonna buy?” Sanji glanced over at him. She had brought her makeup, setting up a small station on the floor beside the full length mirror her best friend had. She could do it in a few minutes, as if it was perfect. And it was perfect. The wing of her eyeliner brown and subtle, with a few coats of mascara, a bit of concealer, and blotted pink lipstick. All of which Usopp had no idea were things until she explained it to him as she went, earlier. 

He looked at her and smiled, “Surprise.” When they were teenagers, he found a bottle of lipstick in Sanji’s room. She swore it was her mothers, as he investigated the tube. It was a dark shade of red forever burned into his cranium, down to the brand and shade name. He had thought about it every night for weeks after he found it, wondering what it would’ve looked like on her mouth. How it would accentuate the fullness of her bottom lip and her pronounced cupid's bow.  

“Oh, come on, give me a hint,” she frowned, lightly pushing his shoulder.  

Usopp laughed, as they pulled into the mall parking lot, not budging, “Nope. I’ll buy it and you can see it afterward,” a promise fell from his lips as he found a parking spot. It was somewhat by the entrance, showing off the old architecture of a mall that was stuck in the decade prior. But it was comforting, it reminded him of his childhood. This was the mall he always went to growing up, especially with her.  

They got out of the car and walked to the entrance, which he made sure to hold the door open for her. She simply shook her head with a smile, trying not to let it take over her face. It hadn’t changed in about ten years since he started coming there when he was about thirteen, everything stuck in a haze of the nineties. It was nice, especially since he saw Sanji’s face begin to light up as she was filled with a sense of familiarity. She slowed her steps and took it in, gazing with wide eyes at the place before her.  

“Do you remember when we went to the Blockbuster and you tried to rent the R-rated movie?” Usopp asked after the silence was stifling, nudging her shoulder with his own, “Kate Winslet had you in a choke hold.” This was easy. If he didn’t think about it, if he forced himself to swallow his anxiety, it was easy. She was … comfortable. She was home. 

“It was pg-13,” she breathed out, slowly turning her face to look at him, “Where’s the Macy’s?” Sanji’s cheeks were a light pink, different from earlier. She hadn’t applied blush in her makeup routine, unless the cold was starting to nip at her skin.  

Usopp led her to Macy's, breaking off from her as she went to look at clothes. He promised he’d return after he found the bathroom, which was a total lie. Instead, he found himself in the makeup section. It was memorized deep in his skull the name, which shocked the woman at the counter when he said, “I need to find MAC Cosmetics Lipstick in Spice It Up.” She hesitated for a moment and then nodded, pointing him to a row of lipsticks all without the tubes so he could pick the color.  

Instantly, it caught his eye. The color hadn’t changed much over the years, although he remembered it looking a bit more vibrant than the slightly dull maroon he came face to face with. The tube was black, as they all were. But it was hers. It was the deep red he had remembered yearning to see contrast against her pale skin, like drops of blood against white snow. He remembered rolling the tube in his hand and imagining how she would apply it, how she would press her lips together and how it would … look. Usopp picked up the box where the lipstick laid in, paying for it almost instantly. The money didn’t matter, the only thing he could focus on was the fact he was going to see her wear it.  

Usopp found Sanji looking at green blouses a few sections over, running her hands over the fabric and feeling it between her fingers. She studied the material with a keen eye, trying to find the best match for her. It would look amazing, he knew it. He approached her, clearing his throat to gather her attention. The blonde looked over at him and he raised the bag that said “Mac Cosmetics” awkwardly, with a small smile.  

Her eyes widened at the sight, “Usopp… What did you get?”  

“A surprise,” his grin widened as he reached into the small bag, pulling out the tube he had unboxed a few minutes prior, “An old surprise.” He waved it a bit then handed it over to her, where their hands overlapped. Sanji held onto his hand for a few silent moments, staring at her hand over his. Her eyes were glassy, fogged over with a hint of nostalgia creeping into her features. She knew. Of course, she knew exactly what it was even from the tube alone.  

“You remembered?” She looked up at him, pulling her hand away and popping the cap off the lipstick. She twisted the container and out came the color. He was right, it was perfect for her. Her hand entangled into her hair, pressing against her scalp, “I didn’t think you’d even remember the color. I didn’t even…” It was a look of disbelief as she lightly tapped the top of her head a few times with her palm, trailing off from her thought.  

“Of course. C’mon, can I put it on you?” Usopp extended his hand, before he truly understood what he had just said. How could he even think that was a good idea? He wasn’t worthy to hold her face, cradle it in his hands, and gently press the stick to her mouth. He wasn’t worthy to be the one who applied it, even though he really wanted to. It wasn’t normal to want it this bad, it had to be the misogyny talking or something like that.  

He hesitated to speak again, but she nodded and handed it back to him, “Do it. But don’t get it all over me, long-nose,” a small fond smile pulled at her lips.  

“Oh, don’t tell me Zoro taught you that,” he frowned and twisted the tube back down a bit, so not as much product was extended. She laughed as a response and he stepped forward, breaking the distance and forcing himself into her personal space.  

Slowly, his left hand cupped her jaw, with his thumb coming to rest on the underside of her chin, tilting her face upwards. Sanji’s eyes darted from the ceiling to the brunettes, watching with stiff eyes as he brought the lipstick to her bottom lip. He had never applied a woman's makeup to their face before, but he knew you had to be gentle about it.  

Methodically, he pressed the tube of red onto her bottom lip, dragging the tip down from the center of her lip to the bottom, before curving it around the edge of her lip and dragging it to the corner of her mouth. He had seen this done in a movie once, many years ago. And Nami had applied lipstick around him loads of times. The student just needed to go into his mind and unlock those memories. 

The top part of her lips was an easy task, following the natural curvature of her upper cupid's bow and connecting it back to the corner. Delicately and carefully, he patted the product into the center of her mouth, continuing until it was darkened enough. He didn’t want it to be too much; It needed to be just right. As he applied it, Sanji’s eyes stared into his face. She stared with a new look of fondness he hadn’t even seen before, and when he asked her to press her lips together, she looked away quicker than she typically would. 

It was silent, as he watched her shyly pull out a compact mirror to admire the color, he knew she had wished she could’ve worn years prior. She looked ethereal if that was even the correct word to capture her otherworldly level of beauty. It brought out the deep crevices of her face and painted in her ways he never once thought about. She was an oil painting that he had slaved years and time away to create, until she was perfect. And she was perfect. She had always been just… perfect. 

“You did good,” Sanji closed her compact, bringing his thoughts back to reality, “For a beginner.” A smirk tugged at her painted lips and he felt a wave of nausea through his body. He tried to push it away, as she continued, “I never let myself wear it back then. I bought it and stared at it for hours but,” she exhaled, “I’ve never been brave enough to wear it.”  

“You look really good,” Usopp replied, before a heat rushed into his skin, burning it with a deep red, “I mean- Not that you typically don’t- You do- You always look good- I mean you know what I mean… right?” His voice trailed off with anxiety, as his eyes squeezed shut. 

His eyes didn’t stay shut for long, as a subtle hand on his upper arm made them flutter open. She was watching him with a wide-eyed expression, that same pink blush caressing her cheeks. In that light, she was prettier than she had ever been. She was glowing. She was an angel from Earth who had come to take him away. In that moment, he forgot everything he was supposed to worry about. His anxiety, that stupid misogyny, all of it. He forgot it and lived in her presence. He forgot it and lived like she was the only thing worth living for. In that split second of time, Usopp even forgot who he was as he stared back at her with a slightly agape mouth.  

“I know…” Sanji smiled at him, pulling his forearm with her as she began to walk toward the escalator. Like a limp rag-doll, Usopp let her drag him with ease. She had always been stronger than him, even if he had a different body all these years later. Maybe it was because he let her throw him around, because he didn’t have the heart to use his actual strength, let alone fight back. He watched her as she stepped onto the first step and began to drift upwards, waiting for him to follow.  

He always would. 

- 

They arrived upstairs, to the home goods section. It was dystopian to walk around in a department store with a girl he didn’t think he’d ever see again, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was silent as she led him, looking at the different furniture with a soft glance. He tried to focus on the chairs or the different couches, but his gaze went back to her. Every time, his eyes found their way back to her face, her hair, her red lips, all of it. As they stood by one couch, looking at it as she prattled on about how it would look good in Usopp’s living room, she slowly trailed off. Sanji’s expression shifted, as if she was holding back a smile. She pressed her lips together, biting down on her bottom lip tentatively. Her thoughts were clear on her face that she was debating something, mulling it over visibly.  

“Sanji…?” Usopp breathed out, looking at her and waiting for a response back to signal she was okay. The blonde looked at him, taking both of his deep hands with hers. She enveloped them with her warmth and pulled him in, both metaphorically and physically. There was no space between them as they watched each other.  

“Do you hear the song?” She asked, in a quiet tone. It was a song playing over the speakers that was barely audible to him at first. But then he heard it and slowly it captured his ears in a rhythmic tune. He had never heard it before, but clearly, she had, as she hummed along. “I love this song,” Sanji continued, beginning to sway slowly, “Will you…?” She looked between them, raising their entangled hands up to his eyeline.  

She wanted him to dance with her in the middle of a Macy’s. The thought made Usopp want to push away and laugh nervously, declaring he couldn’t embarrass himself like that. But the thought made him want to take her close and hum along too, even if he knew none of the lyrics. The thought made him want to hold her and sway, even if it was just to appease her for two minutes. Two minutes he was going to cherish for as long as humanly possible until it was all over and he was back to being riddled with anxiety. Anxiety that was so far away now, he could barely taste it.  

Usopp pulled her in, taking her left hand in his right and holding it out, while his left arm rested on the small of her back. Her head of blonde hair rested against his collarbone, letting his nose brush against the top of her hair. It smelt better than he realized, something fruity. She was a bundle of summer wrapped into a person's body. Like a ray of sunshine, embodied as a person.  

Sanji’s voice was soft against his ears, singing gently along to the song that was barely audible to him. All he could hear was his own heartbeat and that faint singing. The lyrics were barely visible on her tongue, but he cherished it. Her voice was above a whisper, as if she was soothing herself rather than trying to be known. Almost like she didn’t realize she was singing along.  

Then she squeezed his hand, trying to remind herself she was here with him. Like … she was reminding herself he was truly real. Like she wasn’t sure if this moment would fade and she would wake up alone in a room halfway around the world. Like this moment could disappear at any time and they’d both be left to mourn the shattered pieces. 

He realized he couldn’t let her go. As much as he knew they needed to break apart when the song was done, he physically couldn’t let go. His body wouldn’t let him. He’d keep her caged in his arms for as long as he could until she broke from it. Then he realized she wasn’t going to break away any time soon.  

Not at all. 

-

“Okay, so, let me get this straight: You’re a misogynist now?” Zoro’s voice rang into Usopp’s ears and brought him back to reality, where he was sitting on the floor with his back to the couch as his friends sat across from him. Luffy had been kind enough to make up a cooking excuse to get Sanji out of the house so they’d have at least an hour alone with the famed misogynist as he explained his entire thought process. 

Nami’s eyebrow quirked up as she leaned behind on one palm, “Is that why you’ve been acting weird? Did you discover 4chan or something?” She asked, turning her head to watch her friend. 

Just a few hours prior he had forgotten all about it. All the misogyny, all the nerves building up inside his body making him shake. But now it was all out in the open for his friends to dissect and pick through, making the man feel completely naked under their stare. He was baring himself to them with his struggle, a struggle he didn’t even know he had until Sanji appeared back into his life. This could be the answer to help him, to get rid of it once and for all. 

“Well, no,” he inhaled stiffly, “It’s about Sanji. She makes me feel so nauseous and gross, and it’s never been this bad before. So I went onto Buzzfeed-” Usopp began but he was cut off by a snort from Zoro. 

“Buzzfeed? You trust that shit?” He chuckled to himself. 

“Hey,” Nami swatted her pale hand at her friend, lightly hitting the bridge of his nose as he frowned, “Let him continue. Even if it started from Buzzfeed.” Her words were sarcastic and pointed, garnering another laugh from the moss beside her. 

Usopp looked away. They didn’t seem to understand this ran deep. This was affecting him so much and it was all fueled by hate. A hatred he had and harbored, that could easily hurt the one person he cared so much about. He never wanted to be the reason she cried. He never wanted to be the reason she left again. His ginger friend’s face hardened when she saw his anxious expression. Then it hit her. It wasn't just a stupid joke he was going to say, with some stupider punchline at the end. It wasn’t something that was funny. No, it couldn’t be funny. Hurting Sanji would hurt him so much more than anyone would ever be able to understand. It was serious to him so it had to be serious to her too. 

“Go on,” she spoke softly, nudging his knee with her foot so they could make eye contact. Her eyes said more words than she ever could, trying to be comforting in some way. 

“Every time I see her, I feel so sick. And when she touches me my skin gets all hot and itchy… Buzzfeed said I was misogynistic when I put in all my symptoms,” he said low, shame rising in his throat, “A-And I feel terrible. She cares about me and here I am being all hateful.” 

Zoro watched him, blinking slowly. He was silent as he processed this information, trying to fully grasp what Usopp meant. Then he spoke up, “Do you hate women?” Eliciting a smack from the woman beside him. The brunette looked up from his lap and he continued, “Do you really hate women?”

“Can you try and be sensitive?” Nami retorted back to him. 

“I am! It’s good to ask questions when your friend is self diagnosing as a misogynist,” he spoke through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at the girl. 

“No,” Usopp’s voice made the both of them look at him, “I don’t really hate anyone. But if I’m not misogynistic how can that explain m-” Before he could explain further, Zoro waved a hand in the air. 

“You have a crush- OW YOU CUNT-” Zoro began but was instantly cut off by a smack from Nami, which sent him falling backward onto the wooden floor.

“You can’t just tell him he has a crush! You have to ease him into it!” She reprimanded, pointing a finger at the moss, “He can’t handle all that in one go!” 

“He’s an adult,” he groaned, propping himself up on his elbows to stare at her, “I think he can handle knowing he’s in love.” 

She pushed his forehead back, “In love and crush are two different things, idiot!” The man fell back, onto the wood, letting out a breath of defeat. He was stronger than everyone in the apartment, although Luffy rivaled him in that area. It was clear from that interaction alone, he was letting her have her way with him. Zoro never really minded letting people hit him, he had no reason to fight back if it was his friends. And half the time it was. 

All the while as they bickered and pushed, Usopp was seated across from them. His eyes began to unfocus and blur the world before him, turning it into street lights on a night sky. Streaky and blurry against his irises, as he sat and took it in. He wasn’t in love, he was the furthest thing from being in love. No, love was different. He had been in love before when he was younger, with one of his first girlfriends. It was intimate, quick, and it was fun; nothing like the torture he was enduring. 

Sanji’s mere presence made him sick, made him unable to think of nothing but her, made him sweaty and prickled with heat on his cheeks, and made him a terrible person. Around her he felt comforted when he was far away from that mindset, but when it came back he could focus on nothing more than his breathing to ground himself. I mean, it was like this when they were in high school, but to such a lesser extent. He was always on edge around the blonde, breathing heavily and clammy. But that was normal. All friends were like that. All friends wanted to be near each other every day. All friends cuddled into the depths of the night, until it was practically suffocating for them to even think about letting go. 

Friends touched each other, against bare skin for practice. Friends would spend nights upon nights talking until sunrise, because there was so much more to say. Friends kissed the skin on their friends neck every night, as a way to say good night. And friends shared intimate moments since they were young and stupid, and, of course, it wouldn’t mean anything in the moment- or the day after. Of course, they’d never speak about it again. 

Of course, they were best friends.

Then it began to click, all the pieces falling into place. He never heard Zoro talk about Nami like that, how they’d steal glances and wish it would last forever. Or how when their hands touched it felt electric. They never spoke about how hard it was to sleep when the person you loved the most was pressed against your chest and breathing softly into the pillow beside you, so quietly you could barely hear her. But you knew she was there, and that was the most comforting aspect. 

Usopp looked down into his lap, frowning deeply. How could he have not seen he was… in love? 

“Guys?” He croaked, causing them to perk up mid-fight to look at his astonished face, “Am I stupid…?”

Nami hesitated as Zoro blurted out, “Yes.” Causing her to tackle him again and punch his frame, which he let her do as the floor was too comfortable for him to fight back.

“God, I’m so stupid!!” Usopp groaned, turning and burying his face into a pillow where he screamed just a little bit. How could he not have seen it wasn’t misogyny but years of neglected and intense feelings coming up to the surface to bite him in the ass? Maybe he shouldn’t have invested in a mechanical engineering degree if he couldn’t even deduce a simple crush.

“Why are you stupid?” A voice rang in his ears, causing the student to raise his head from the pillow. He saw Sanji, standing above him with a curious expression. She came back a lot sooner than he thought, with Luffy dog piling his boyfriend and their mutual friend with ease. Her outfit had changed from this morning, into something more casual. He sat up and pushed the pillow away, so she could sit next to him on the floor. However, she opted to sit on the couch so her legs were beside him. 

With this newfound information bouncing in Usopp’s brain, it was hard to pry his eyes off her frame. She was gorgeous, even if it was in a baggy T-shirt and jeans. Her body was hidden, and he wanted so desperately to put his hand on her back, bringing her into his clutches. He wanted to run his fingers against her skin just to see what would make her pull him closer. He wanted to see how her hair smelt today, how her skin smelt, how her mouth would feel against his. 

It was perverse and it was wrong, to have these thoughts run rampant in his mind. But they weren’t misogyny, they were built off of pure unbridled love. They were built off of innocence and purity. They were built off of his affections for her. The fact he loved her, so deeply and truly. He always had, ever since they were teenagers. He never stopped loving her, chasing her through other women to fill the void she left when she, well, left. 

Sanji watched as he stared at her, eyes wide with curiosity, “Usopp?” Her voice broke into his thoughts, being the thing that caused him to turn away for a moment. He wasn’t being very inconspicuous with his staring, in fact he was being too obvious. How could Usopp not be obvious anymore, when it felt so good to indulge and watch her exist as a god amongst men? 

“Yeah?” The man looked back at her and he saw something in her hand. It was red and white, and the moment he saw it the thoughts of his affection were replaced with confusion. He hadn’t seen her smoke the almost two weeks she was staying. In his mind, he assumed she had quit between the three years they were apart. 

“Come outside with me? I could use the company,” she motioned to the box, shaking it a bit, “Zoro’s been coming outside with me usually before bed, but he looks a little busy,” her blue eyes trailed ahead of her, where he was letting Nami and Luffy punch his body while he laid there, half asleep. It felt like home to be there, watching them fight and sitting beside someone he cared about, without having to feel bad for those feelings. 

“Is that why you get up early? To smoke?” Usopp asked her as they exited the apartment building into the middle of the street, where the crisp night air hit his cheeks and made them prickle with a red blush. She put on a jacket that was his, asking if she could borrow it because all of her’s were dirty. It was brown leather and too big to fit her anymore, loosely hanging from her frame as she lit the cigarette hanging from her bottom lip. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t know,” Sanji looked at him, waving the lighter before placing it back in her pant pocket. She pulled the cigarette from her lips and exhaled the smoke in the opposite direction from her friend, clearing her throat before she continued, “I always think you’re asleep by the time I go to bed, so Zoro comes with me out here. But then I get to your room and you’re still awake.” 

“So that’s where you got long-nose from?” He mused, placing his hands in his own jacket pocket as he slowly walked forward. 

“He did call you that once, yeah,” she smiled and pressed the cigarette to her mouth, inhaling and closing her eyes. It explained the homely scent that lingered on her skin, even if it was covered in citrus. There was something savory to it he couldn’t quite place, but it was the cigarettes. He knew she had started smoking young, it was almost like her thing back in high school. He could even picture her smoking behind the school as he sat on the ground, watching her with keen eyes. 

“You don’t mind the smell do you?” Sanji asked, turning her head to him. 

They made eye contact and he brushed some coils of his own hair from his forehead before he responded, “No. Reminds me of home.” 

“I didn’t know your parents smoked when you were younger,” she flicked a bit of the ash onto the pavement. With the subtle glow of the cigarette then the dim street lamps, she looked like a dream. Something only a painter could capture. Something that if he tried to get a photo of, it would never be the same. It would never have the same effect as living it would. 

Usopp shook his head, causing her brows to furrow, “You smoked when we were younger.” Sanji silently stared back at him as the small stick stuck from her bottom lip. She let it drizzle smoke from the head as she watched him in the darkness that began to surround them as the sky turned dull blue.

“I remind you … of home?” She asked quietly, a pink blush forming at the bridge of her nose and coming to the apples of her cheeks. 

“Sanji,” he breathed out, “I think you are my home.” Before Usopp could catch himself the words came slipping out, telling more of the truth than he wanted to tell. 

Her lips pursed and she pulled the cigarette from her mouth again, to cradle it between two fingers, “You’ve been acting so weird all this week. I thought I did something. You’re always so red and … sweaty,” a small but awkward smile pulled at her lips, “And you look scared, all the time. Like you’re saying the wrong thing.” 

The moment felt right. The moment was right. She was standing in dull light and he was beside her, just a mere foot and a half apart. The night was fading into darkness, the cigarette was almost up, her hair was pushed back in a messy ponytail, and, god, her lips looked beautiful in the faded shade of red he had applied hours prior. There was nothing more that he could do than stare, even though he knew he needed to respond. 

But how could he respond to her? He was being weird, and sweaty, and scared. He was all of it. No matter what he said, it would sound like a stupid lie to cover up an even more stupid lie. Because in truth, it was. It would be a cover up for something he never wanted to tell her. 

“I’m misogynistic.” 

Usopp pressed his lips together as he realized what the hell he just said. Sanji stared at him blankly, the cigarette falling from her fingers as she slowly blinked in thought.

“No- Well I was- well I thought I was! I thought I hated women, because y-you know you’re a,” he awkwardly motioned to her body then his eyes widened, “Not because that makes you a woman- you are a woman- a very pretty woman! And that makes me scared and sweaty- because I thought I hated women!” Usopp inhaled sharply before he continued, “But I don’t hate women- I don’t hate you! I thought I did- an-and I felt so bad, because then that would mean I hate you- but I don’t! I love you- I love you. Oh. My. God. I love you. I love you like- like- It hurts. It hurts so much that I love you and I’m … saying this… out… loud…” 

Sanji stared back at him as he rattled on, eyes becoming glasslike until they started spilling silent tears down her cheeks. He hadn’t even noticed, until his sentence trailed off and she saw her face glisten in the street light. He had done it. He was the one to make her cry with the beliefs he tried to keep from her. Usopp had made the woman he loved more than he could physically bear because of his idiotic words and timing, and because he couldn’t hold a secret for more than five minutes before pouring his heart out. 

He tried to fix it, “Sanji…” But his voice died in his throat when she let out a small sob, covering her mouth. 

“You… idiot,” she looked at him, brushing her fingers by her waterline to try and stop the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. All the while, a wide smile adorned her face. The smile was what made her friend tilt his head and narrow his eyes in surprise. Surely, he had upset her, I mean, she was crying! How could she be smiling at his misogynistic confession? 

“You idiot!” Sanji smacked him on the head, causing him to stumble back a bit before she grabbed the collar of his shirt and forced her eyes to bore into his own, glossy with her tears. Her expression was crumbling with something that looked akin to joy as she held him close, trying to speak but all that would come out were garbled sobs. And at that moment, all he could think about was how beautiful she looked, all messed up. Her eyeliner was slightly smudged at the corners of her eyes, although her mascara wasn’t budging. Her bottom lip was quivering as she tried to hold back a smile she never wanted to hold back. 

“Are you… upset…?” Usopp raised his hands, slowly placing them on her shoulder blades, slowly prying her away from his shirt. She shook her head quickly, to which he responded, “You’re happy?” At that she nodded vigorously, “Why?” He asked, clearly not understanding. 

“Be-e-cause,” Sanji squeaked, hiccuping before her words spilt out, “You love m-me, too.”

“Oh,” he had forgotten that in his confession of past misogyny, he also confessed his feelings a few minutes after realizing them. “Wait, too? You love me, too?” A kind of burning sensation was growing in his chest until it finally exploded, rising in his skin and melding deep into his face. He was on fire, and it was perfect. If she caused him to burn, he’d thank her and ask her to burn him again. Because he loved her, fuck, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. 

Sanji nodded, taking her knuckles to her eyes to wipe away the excess of makeup pooling at the bottom of her eyelid. Even with that messed up makeup and tear stained face, she looked like a painting. She looked messy and human, so beautifully human. 

Usopp placed his shaky hand over hers and brought it to his lips, pressing his mouth onto her fingers. Then her finger tips, then down the base of her fingers to her palm, down to her wrist. She hiccuped as he brought her in close and pressed his lips to her neck, pressing a delicate kiss to her skin as she held him closer. 

“I don’t think you understand,” he breathed out, pressing kisses on her face until their noses were mere millimeters apart, “I love you.” Usopp’s voice was barely above a murmur, something that he spoke only for her ears to hear. 

“I- I know, long-nose,” Sanji sniffed, “I’m home… I’m home now…” She spoke as if she was sure this wasn’t a dream, but she needed to be certain. She needed to know she’d never wake up, and this would never end. 

Slowly, he brought his lips to her’s, just to feel it for a moment. It was perfect, it was absolutely right. His lips were carved from the finest clay and made to be molded against her’s, no one else's. He was made to be her’s. Usopp was born to worship her and be there for her. No one else but Sanji. 

His home. 

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c29. Salvatore

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, mentions of death, depression, eating disorders.

song to listen to when reading this: Se piovesse il tuo nome, Calcutta e Elisa.

abstract: it's Simon. do you know who this friend is? cause I've never seen him, I don't know… I don't like him. anyway, this chapter is all about him, you don't even need me here. this story is not about me anymore, I guess. salvo can talk to you next time, you know. since alba likes him so much. pff…

At the airport, Alba was scared to fall asleep standing up. It was a hour and a half drive from her place to the airport, and after the meeting, having to deal with an overexcited Kyle that wanted to talk to her, she felt exhausted. She realised mid drive he kinda asked her out and she brushed him off like nothing. 'I think me and a few others are going out later for drinks' he had said, walking her outside, 'You should come!' She used the opportunity to turn around and look through the glass doors, trying to find him. Are you doing out as well? Where are you when I need you? She chuckled and unlocked her car door. 'Thanks, I think I'll pass…' she tried to remain vague. He wasn't giving up. 'Why? You know, it could be good to get to know each other better, we're working together and all…' She finally looked at him, his charming and relaxed expression. She gave him a smile, trying to repress the internal screaming in her head. 'I need to go pick up a friend from the airport, but thanks for the invite.' He seemed surprised, but kept his cool. 'Well, your friend can come too!' She laughed again, but turned her back to him. 'Bye Kyle, have fun.' She heard him laugh while closing the car door. 'I'm gonna figure you out Judy!' He was saying. You wish.

She waited patiently for Salvo to appear out of the sliding doors of the airport, she ran to him when she saw him. He looked like he had been sleeping on the plane, hair messy, dark circles but a dumb lazy smile on his face. He took her in her arms squeezing her tight. 'Ciao bella mia…'She laughed and let out a long sigh. 'Ciao 'more…' She helped him with his bags, but he wanted to look at her for a few more seconds. 'Stai di merda chicca, che succede?' He said, to which she let out a loud groan. He had said she looked like shit. I'm gonna tell you in the car, she replied. Salvo was an handsome guy. He had beautiful curly hair, he had big and full lips, kind, round puppy eyes. He was tall, he was fun, he was outgoing. He was the kind of guy to get along with everyone, made everyone fell comfortable. When she didn't feel comfortable enough to speak, he would fill all her silences. When she got angry, he would always calm her down. When he was down, she was his biggest fan. He was the sun, she was the moon. She let herself go completely with him, and he felt blessed by her presence. He was blessed to see the real Alba, who sang out loud to Disney musicals and old Italian traditional songs. Who let herself be vulnerable and open. He had always been true to her, always supported her, but always told her his truthful opinions on stuff and when he felt she was making mistakes. He had always her wellbeing at heart. They gossiped together like teenagers, they talked about the past, trauma and what not, his family treated her like one of them. They were both from the south, hospitality was a big thing for them. He knew everything about her. They facetimed one of Salvo's sisters in the car, she just had a baby, making her Aunty Alba. Zia Alba. They didn't know her as Alba, obviously, they knew her real name. They knew everything, they still wanted her in the family. Even if they knew who she really was, they still liked her, they still loved her. Una Pentita. Collaboratrice di Giustizia. Traditrice.

He talked about Korea, how the past four months went. He was tired, he was glad he saw his family. He asked about her new job or whatever, that's when she felt like collapsing. 'È una merda, Salvo…'she helped him unload the car with his luggage, bringing it upstairs. 'Sto imparando l'alfabeto, dopodomani inizio e non ho idea di che cazzo devo fare…' Jinx greeted Salvo with loud barks and his tail wiggling like crazy. Salvo was enthusiast to see the dog, which was just a shy puppy when he first started coming round at her house. 'Se sanno che non sai veramente il croato perchè ti hanno dato questo lavoro?' He asked, sitting down on the couch, Jinx following him and trying to climb on his lap. She sat down beside him, let out a sigh. She explained she had a feeling something was going on. She felt like she was being lied to. When Jinx finally settled down she was able to rant a bit. She revealed things weren't going so well, her schedule was going to be tight. She had sessions all day, she had two hours of listening post duties during lunch break, four more to fit through the day, either before ballet or in the early morning, before her therapy sessions. She had Pre Ballet class with the little girls two times per week, her other group three times. And the best part?

'Sai chi si è fatto male?'

'Chi?'

'Quella troia di Rachel Montana'

'Cazzo dici…'

Rachel Montana was an higher level dancer, she was 24. She was from the oldest group the school had which ranged from 20 year olds to 27. She had been at the school since she was in diapers. The bitch had all the best roles all the time. Skinny, blonde, basic pink Barbie bitch. She went around saying Alba wasn't good enough for teaching, her tattoos were ugly, and all the ear piercings... She was too old for ballet. She said she wasn't in enough good shape to be a teacher, her flexibility wasn't too great either. Last year, there was this very good looking photographer at the theatre they were having the final performance in. Noah, so so handsome. Rachel was pissed at the fact he seemed more interested in taking pictures of Alba rehearsing with the kids than her dancing. Well, Alba and Noah hooked up in an empty dressing room the night of the show, Rachel spread the word. Fucking bitch. Well, princess Rachel, she was telling Salvo, broke her arm skiing with her rich dad in Switzerland. 'No fucking way…' She reached for the table to get her tabacco, grinder and cardboard filters. 'Guess who's playing Snow Queen this year?' The girl asked.

'Who, Angie? Is it Maggie?'

'No stupid, it's me.' She revealed. Salvo congratulated her in shock, but Alba soon confessed it wasn't really a good thing. Snow Queen was an extremely difficult role, her pointe shoe work wasn't good, her flexibility was worse than her fifteen year old students. When she heard the news she felt faint, they only picked her cause they could not be bothered to teach the choreos to someone else. Plus, everyone always said Rachel was too young to be playing Snow Queen. 'So basically you're actually in the show, you're not just teaching.' She nodded. 'Honey, you got a lot on your plate…' She made him some dinner, mainly leftovers, they smoked a bit of weed. He took a shower and got ready to sleep. They laid in the dark of Alba's room under the covers, facing each other. She touched his hand, comforting him, while he whispered about deployment, about how tired he felt, how he missed home. How he felt that career wasn't for him anymore. She felt his breathing getting heavier, but the sleepiness didn't stop him from asking her one last question. 'Mi devi dire di lui…'

She chucked, 'Who?' and he clicked his tongue. 'You know who. I want to know how you did it.'

'Did what Salvo? Literally nothing happened…'

'So what? I want to know, you guys basically went on a date!'

'Not true...'

'No, è vero chicca… se c'era una persona che poteva infognarsi con uno del genere eri tu…'

She spoke even though she wasn’t sure if he was asleep. She told him everything, even to go over the details herself. She said he knew where her office was, her apartment, her workplace. He knew what car she drove. She said he went to see her every time they had spoken, she initiated conversation only one time. He wanted to see her, that's what she thought. He was kind, he was gentle and considerate. He liked asking her about her life, he didn't like answering her questions. He was diligent and he looked like he would say yes to everything she says. He remembered details, he never ever tried to touch her in any way after the hug at the ballet school. She said she liked Simon. She liked that she couldn’t really figure him out, she liked it was kinda obvious she was the first woman he had went out with, in a while at least. She even liked they weren’t really putting a label on what they were doing because he was so awkward. She said that she could see how damaged he must have been in the past, it was the thing that kinda kept her from getting closer to him. She already had her shit to think about. She said she would wait and see, they would probably stop seeing each other around at some point. She acted like that didn’t make her a tiny bit sad.

notes: i am OBSESSED with this song, here, let me translate:

If in the streets or in all this mess,

It rained you name, I would like to drink it, one letter at a time

translations: 'Ciao bella mia…' Hi my beautiful… 'Ciao 'more' short for ciao amore, which means hi love. it's normal for very close friends to call each other love in a non romantic way. only in certain settings tho not all the time!! 'more sure we can get a coffee later. nooo, 'more I'm sorry that happened.

'È una merda Salvo…' it's shit, Salvo. Sto imparando l'alfabeto, dopodomani inizio e non ho idea di che cazzo devo fare…' 'I'm learning the alphabet, i start in two days and I have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to do…'

'Sai chi si è fatto male?' (Do you know who got injured?)

'Chi?' (Who?)

'Quella troia di Rachel Montana' (That Rachel Montana bitch)

'Cazzo dici…' (You're fucking joking)

translations: 'Mi devi dire di lui…' you have to tell me about him.

È vero chicca… se c'era una persona che poteva infognarsi con uno del genere eri tu…'

but it's true chicca, if there was one person that could get involved with someone like him, it had to be you. chicca has no translation, it's like saying baby, but more friendly. chicco is the male version, it stands for something small and cute, for example to say grain of rice, we say chicco di riso.

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