“oi.”

you froze with your hand on your purse, about to reach for your keys, head snapping up at his voice as he made his way toward you, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

you turned your head slowly, eyes trailing up his tall frame, though looking at him only made things worse; his pink, coral strands faintly glowing under the streetlight, tan skin catching the light, black markings accentuating the sharpness of his features.

yeah. you didn’t stand a chance.

“. . . what?”

he scoffed. “what?” he mimicked under his breath, head tilting slightly, eyes sharp and fixed on you. “you forgetting something?”

your brain only buffered, eyes darting between his face and everything else: left, right, anywhere but him. “no..?” — humming under your breath as you dug through your purse.

lip gloss.

receipt.

wires.

a sonny angel, for some reason . . ?

everything but your keys.

normally, you weren’t this awkward. you just weren’t used to this. dates with people you actually found attractive. emotionally. intellectually. physically. romantically. sexually—

“you regret comin’ out with me?”

oh . . . 

for a second you almost forgot he was there. well not really. sure, you tuned him out but you could definitely feel him. you could never really ignore ryomen sukuna; the sound of his breathing, the shift of his weight, his presence pressing against your senses, it was all there.

“what?” you blurted, finally looking at him in the eye.

sukuna leaned against the wall beside your door, pink hair shifting against his forehead, his expression unreadable, save for the faint amusement in his eyes.

“you heard me.”

your brows knitted together, mouth opening, then closing, before finally speaking: “no…”, your voice coming out a soft whisper.

his slitted eyebrow only cocked up at you, a faint laugh escaping his throat. “no?” the single word rolled off his tongue slowly, thick with amusement as he watched you, heat crawling higher up your neck under his stare, your movements growing clumsier the longer he looked at you.

“you’ve been diggin’ through that bag for, what, five minutes now. plus you nearly jumped outta a moving vehicle.” he continued lazily, pushing himself off the wall beside your door. “it makes a man wonder.”

“i’m not doing anything,” you said, quieter now, finally meeting his eyes for half a second before looking away again. “you’re the one who keeps staring me down.”

“mm,” he hummed, “so, lookin’ at you’s the issue.” his eyes flickering over your face once more, slow and unhurried. “that right?”

well, yes, that was part of the problem. but it wasn’t thee problem. because the actual problem was much worse. the actual problem was that you liked sukuna. like. like-liked. and he liked you too.

“well, no! i just—”　　 what an insufferable man. 　　“i really liked going out with you,” voice going a mile a minute before taking a deep breath, lacing your fingers together in front of you, fidgeting under his gaze. “i loved it.. actually.. i’m not trying to run from you or anything.”

“just nervous.”

“nervous?” he repeats after you, the word foreign on his tongue, “that’s what we’re callin’ it? you’re just embarrassed ‘cause you’ve got it bad for your boyfriend.”

your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, heat flooding your face all at once. “what?! no! don’t put words in my mouth.” you blurt, your hand flying up to shove his chest with a dull thud.

sukuna only lets out a low laugh before his hand comes up quickly to close around your wrist mid motion; his grip gentle but firm, holding you there as his other hand stays buried in his pocket. barely trying.

“so… you gonna say bye properly now?”

you gulp, your hand relaxing in his soft grip. “well… how do you want me to say bye?”

sukuna doesn’t answer, instead, he gently lowers your hand between you, scarlet eyes locking onto your softer, pliant eyes.

“your call.”

and the space between you two seems to freeze, soft silence of the night stretching between the two of you. easy on his end, unbearable on yours.

“w—well…” your eyes flick between his for a second before betraying you entirely, dipping down to his lips without meaning to. “i—” you huff. your throat feels dry, yet it feels unreasonable. sukuna wouldn’t judge you, you hope.

“i wanna kiss you… goodbye...”

“platonically,” you added after a moment.

. . .

his brows lifted slowly.

“you wanna kiss me. platonically?”

“um.” your voice came out smaller than intended. “yes.”

“yeah? and i’m sure those pretty little eyes of yours are lookin’ at me real platonically too.”

“that too.”

silence.

then sukuna hummed low in his throat, all amusement, already taking a step back.

“ah. got it.” he turned slightly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. “well, in that case— have a nice night.”

your eyes widened immediately. “wait—”

he kept walking.

not far. just enough to be annoying.

“sukunaaa,” you whined, hurrying after him before your fingers caught around his forearm, dragging him back to your doorstep. “not like that.”

a soft huff escapes him, his mouth quirking upwards, canines softly refracting the dim light — not quite a smile, but rather satisfaction. “hm?” he glanced down at your hand on his arm. “so now it’s not like that?”

your grip tightens for a second before you realize it and quickly loosen your hand, heat rushing straight to your face. “i—no, i mean—just—don’t pretend you don’t know what i mean…”

his gaze flicks over your face for a second, slow and unreadable, before he scoffs “you’re the one makin’ it complicated.”

“shut up,” you mutter instantly, but there’s no real bite to it, just embarrassment as you finally tug him a little closer.

his hand comes up, settling near your jaw, thumb resting against your warm cheek. your fingers catch lightly at the front of his shirt as you rise onto your toes.

before you could overthink, your lips meet his.

it’s quick. chaste. shy even.

his eyes flutter shut a moment after, his free hand coming out of his pocket to steady you by the waist, warm and heavy, yet restrained, seeping through your clothes.

he doesn’t kiss you back immediately, letting you mold against him. he tilted his head, lips pressing gently against yours; warm, and embarrassingly sweet.

you pull off his lips slowly, a hesitant look in your eyes, your breath catching lightly as you settle back down flat on your feet, hands still gripping the fabric of his shirt.

your heart was beating so hard you were sure he could hear it. did he like it? did he think you were a bad kisser? to be fair, you didn’t kiss many people. or often. but what if—

“hell,” he mutters, like he didn’t expect that, “you even kiss cute. kinda sweet.”

you pant, “what does that even mean?”

his gaze flicks back to your mouth and the slight furrow of your eyebrows.

the way your fingers still cling lightly to his shirt, the shy warmth clinging to your skin, even that stupid little clip tucked into your hair.

a quiet exhale leaves him through his nose, almost a laugh.

yeah. annoyingly cute.

“why’re you always askin’ obvious questions?”

“because youre always saying weird things,” you huff, “and you’re annoying.”

he lets out a soft laugh, leaning down slightly to your height. “i’m annoying?”

you only nod, biting down on the plush of your lip before looking away again, suddenly very interested in anything but him.

except before you could give an actual rebuttal, his lips meet yours deeper this time, no longer testing the waters. still gentle, but an unspoken certainty lingering in the way he kissed you. his mouth warm against yours, moving slow and unhurried, giving you all the time in the world to keep up, hell, even backout if you wanted to, the space between you disappearing.

his hand shifts from your waist up to your jaw, cradling your face and simply holding you in place for the moment. his other arm staying firm at your side, keeping you close without pulling too hard, steadying your wobbly steps against him.

you swallow down a gasp before your eyes slip shut, your nose bumping lightly against his, the angle a little awkward, a little clumsy, yet perfectly you.

it only makes him breathe out something softer against your mouth, amused, as if it’s exactly what he expected from you.

the kiss deepens for a few more seconds — slow, and warm — until it didn’t feel like teasing anymore. just a need held taut beneath careful restraint.

then he pulls back just slightly, just enough for air, his thumb still lingering at your cheek, in no rush to let you go.

“okay . . . was that . . a good goodbye?” you murmur, breathless, still a little dazed as you finally force yourself to step back.

he lets out a low “hm” under his breath, his thumb dragging lightly against your cheek. “yeah. it was good.”

“s’pose i can let you go now.” removing his hands from your sides, drawing a small, inward pout from you.

your hands went back to your purse, fingers already digging through it again—until sukuna stopped you.

“here.”

you pause.

and there they were.

your keys, dangling right in front of your face from his fingers with a soft jingle, cute, colorful keychains swinging in the quiet night air. you gasp before snatching them immediately.

“you bastard! you saw me looking for them!”

he lets out a soft huff of laughter, not even trying to defend himself. “you dropped them while you were busy runnin’ from me,” he hums, shifting his weight back against the brick wall beside him, a faint, sly smirk settling in on that stupidly handsome face of his, “when i asked if you forgot somethin’, you said no.”

you scoff before rolling your eyes, “well! i thought you were talking about saying bye?!”

his gaze flicks over you, steady and thoroughly amused. “two things can be true at once.”

you make a small sound of frustration and snatch the keys tighter in your hand, glaring up at him through your lashes anyway.

“…thanks,” you mutter.

“…go on,” he murmurs, voice low. “before i change my mind and keep you right here.”

and you knew he wasn’t joking. that man was about one breath from devouring you right then and there.

you turn quickly, fumbling with the lock, the soft jingle of your keys echoing in the stillness, his presence still radiating from behind you. his gaze dropped briefly to your hands . . .

“you alright?”

“yes.”

“you’ve missed your keyhole three times now.”

“i know!” you shoot back immediately.

the door unlocked with a soft click, warm light spilling out into the hallway.

“ okay . . . ” you hummed.

“okay,” he repeated, looking down at you expectantly, waiting for you to head inside.

but instead, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.

a low, rough laugh rumbled out of him before his arms circled around you instantly, strong biceps trapping your head against his chest. his scent, a deep, clean mix of cologne, so distinctly him, filling up your senses and making your head feel all dizzy.

despite his rough exterior, sukuna was soft, surprisingly so. maybe it was the steady weight of his chest against your body, or maybe it was the quiet way he held you that made it hard to think. either way.

you liked it.

you pulled away first with a small cough and an awkward straightening of your clothes, cheeks warm enough to burn through metal.

“okay! um— bye, sukuna,” you blurted awkwardly, already backing toward your apartment door.

except your shoulder clipped the doorframe on the way in.

“fuck—”

you fumbled with the handle in a panic before practically stumbling inside. “bye! goodnight!”

and then, you’re gone.

the door shutting a little too hard behind you, a muffled “ow!” coming from behind the door.

outside, sukuna exhales through his nose, shaking his head as the corner of his mouth curled upward.

“…yeah,” he murmurs to himself. “that tracks.”

when you stirred awake and saw yuki’s mom carrying her to the front door, you started crying so loud it could’ve shook the walls.

and because you cried, yuki cried too.

the adults accepted defeat from two infants and put yuki back down on the blanket next to you. you two were silent for the rest of the day besides the occasional giggles and random baby talk.

a few years later, yuki learned how to walk before you. which was bad. because any toddler who has just discovered that their legs can take them anywhere they want become endless adventurers.

yuki was jumping around, using her legs like they hadn’t been there ever since she was born. she’d run to you, who was standing by the couch, holding onto it to help you stay standing. then she’d run to her mom and bury her face in her legs.

the same two people. over and over again. until yuki excitedly ran down the hallway and it took a few seconds for her to come back.

your lip began to tremble when you saw yuki disappear and you couldn’t immediately follow after her. your mom took your tiny hands in hers and helped you walk to the end of the hallway.

when yuki rounded the corner she nearly bumped into you. you were both startled for a second and erupted into laughter, reaching for each other.

safe to say, you ultimately learned how to walk by forming the connection that you couldn’t be with yuki if you couldn’t walk.

once you both learned movement you were unstoppable. every day it was either one of you climbing through the side gate that separated your houses to get to the other one.

the adults would find you with yuki eating fruit snacks on the kitchen floor or yuki with you in your room playing with monster high dolls.

at the beginning every school year, teachers were optimistic and determined to help you two be less dependent on each other.

it started with putting you two in different activity groups. one nice, soft spoken teacher would lead you by the hand to the chalkboard while another teacher led yuki to a story circle on the rug with her other classmates.

every time that situation ended in you trying to cross the room and yuki just staring until the teachers reunited you two.

in elementary school teachers would seat you two separately.

it could be as far away as opposite sides of the room diagonal from each other and you would still make faces at each other and convince the whole class to help you pass notes to each other.

one day during recess, yuki broke her arm when trying to show you a trick she learned on the monkey bars. she had to go to the hospital and you wanted to go with her, but you couldn’t.

that day you were lonely. you refused to interact with anyone else and you made sure it was known.

when someone tried to sit next to you at lunch, you told them the seat was reserved for yuki.

when someone wanted to partner up with you for a class activity, you said you were saving the spot for yuki to be your partner.

it was so obvious that your teacher had to pull you aside.

“honey, you know yuki’s not coming back today, right?”

“but i need a partner…”

“it’s okay to choose other people just for now. i’m sure she’d understand—“

“but yuki is my partner.”

neither of you two knew that exact sentence would come true years later.

sleepovers had always been mandatory. it was never a discussion between you two.

“sleep over by mine and borrow my clothes! then i’ll go by yours tomorrow!!”

and that was how it had always been.

when you and your family took a trip to another city to visit your extended family, yuki was like a widow.

she stayed in bed and on the rare occasion that she did leave her room, she dramatically fainted everywhere like a victorian lady who just lost her husband.

meanwhile, you snapped pictures of everything you saw.

cute pastries you ate. a claw machine where you won two matching stuffed animals for you and yuki. a black and white bird on a powerline. stray cats cuddled up together on the sidewalk.

“you’re gonna run out of storage before we get back home.” your mom gently teased.

“yuki would like this.” you nodded.

junior high became worse for everyone involved because now there were feelings besides just friendship that were blooming.

you and yuki would go shopping and give each other honest feedback on clothes you tried on.

“that color washes you out.”

“look at the bottom, those pants are dragging on the floor.”

“get the cropped version so we can match.”

“you look pretty.”

yuki would always pull you into dressing rooms with her under the guise that she needed your help zipping up something.

neither of you addressed it but your hands lingered on her back long after you were done and she kept staring at you behind her through the mirror.

the summer before high school you two went to a baseball game. yuki kept you sitting close to her with the excuse that she needed to make sure you didn’t get hit by a ball.

she noticed how you kept staring at one of the players and something in her broke a little that day.

she wasn’t sure what hurt more: the fact that you didn’t even notice her smile fall or the idea that you might like someone else other than her.

that was the day yuki realized that you were both girls. well, of course, she always knew that. but she realized you were supposed to be best friends and nothing more.

you couldn’t be nothing more.

a few weeks later yuki came over to your house asking her to get ready for a date with a guy. she gushed over how he was already in high school and how he was so cool. she never said one thing about his appearance.

you helped straighten her hair and helped her choose an outfit to wear and gave her your favorite lipgloss.

“what’s this for?” she asked when you handed it to her.

“just… in case you guys, y’know.” you muttered and looked off to the side, trying to hide your slight irritation.

there was no way she couldn’t tell. you hoped she couldn’t tell. it would be so embarrassing.

it was unnatural. you grew up hearing stories about how one day you’d have a husband and kids and a white picket fence.

what about the story where you don’t marry? what about the story where you stay neighbors with your best friend forever?

maybe she just didn’t see you the way you saw her. good for her. you’d never want her to experience laying awake every night wondering why you couldn’t just be normal.

“kiss?”

“well, yeah, duh.”

“i don’t know how to do that!” yuki started panicking and you grabbed onto her shoulders. “let me practice on you before he picks me up!”

“what?!”

“come on, he’ll be here in like two minutes!!!”

you glared at her before eventually giving in.

“okay… fine.”

you two stared at each other, wondering who would make the first move. you pulled your hands away from her shoulders and fidgeted with your fingers.

yuki looked so pretty just standing there. but you knew it would be so gross. so disgusting. you imagined how she’d pull away when she realized what she had done and say “i’m not into that kind of stuff.”

but what you didn’t know was that yuki was only going on this date to prove something. not to anyone else, but herself. that she could be normal if she tried hard enough. that everything would be fixed and her feelings for you would go away.

the honk of a car horn broke the silence between you two. yuki silently nodded before walking out of your room. you heard the front door close behind you and your heart sank to your stomach.

you fell to the floor and buried your face in your hands. why were you this way? why can’t you be like everyone else? why can’t you feel the same way for a boy as you do for her?

was something inside you rotten? that had to be it. girls your age attracted guys so easily. they wanted those guys. they sought them out.

the only thing you’ve ever wanted was to feel the warmth of yuki’s skin against yours.

holding hands. brushing your fingertips against each other when you exchange pencils. laughing together and hugging each other.

“honey, what’s wrong?” you looked up and saw your mom standing in your doorway. “why are you crying?”

you didn’t even realize. your mom slowly sits down next to you and you curl away from her.

would she be just as disgusted with you as you are with yourself?

“did something happen between you and yuki?”

that was exactly it.

you didn’t even have to say anything. your mom noticed from the way your eyes started welling up with tears all over again.

she noticed all the times you stared at yuki like she created your entire world. she noticed all the times you cried and had a bad mood whenever yuki was gone.

she noticed. all she did was notice.

and now that she was sitting next to you, she couldn’t imagine the way you felt. finally realizing that these feelings were stronger than what you had ever imagined.

it scared you. she knew it did.

“baby, you know i love you, right? no matter what decision you make. i’ll support you forever. you are exactly who you’re meant to be.” your mom pushed your hair out of your face to reveal the dry tears on your cheek.

“okay…” you whispered.

that night, yuki knocked on your window. she never came in through your window. it was always through the side gate.

when you walked up to the window you noticed her face was red and she looked like she had been crying. you quickly slid open the window and helped her climb inside.

“are you okay?” you asked, keeping your distance from her.

“i just froze up.” yuki said and you fell silent. “(name), he tried to kiss me!!! i couldn’t lean in, i couldn’t close my eyes, i couldn’t do anything but just stand there!”

“why? do you not like him or something? ‘cause it’s… it’s okay if you don’t, yuki. it’s—“

“no, you don’t understand! i didn’t wanna kiss him! i don’t wanna kiss anyone!” the blonde sat down on your bed and you sat down next to her.

“i don’t wanna kiss anyone, (name).” she rested her head on your shoulder and her tears started getting the fabric of your shirt wet.

“you don’t have to kiss anyone, yuki. you don’t have to do something you don’t want to.” you said.

“i know. i just… don’t wanna kiss anyone but you.” she lifted up her head and looked at you. “you’re it for me.”

you swallowed a huge lump in your throat and didn’t dare look away from her. you felt heat rise to your cheeks and you blinked away the tears.

“i-i’m… huh?” you sputtered in disbelief. you felt the same way, of course, but it was just so hard to imagine that this was actually happening.

“i love you.” yuki shuffled closer to you and grabbed your hands.

“i love you too…”

“no, not in that way. i love you.”

you exhaled a shaky breath and opened your mouth but nothing came out.

“i realized it today. especially when he tried to kiss me. i froze up because it wasn’t you. (name),” she put her hands on your shoulders.

“kissing him would’ve felt like a betrayal to you.”

you still couldn’t speak. not until her eyes started getting glassy and bloodshot and you realized for her no answer was starting to look like the answer.

“no, no, no, don’t cry.” you said, wrapping your hands around her forearms.

“then say something. anything. if you think i’m weird then just say that! don’t leave me guessing, (name), please.”

“i don’t think you’re weird.” you answered. “because i-i love you too. a lot more than normal.”

“okay.” she nodded, slowly backing away. instead she took your hands in both of hers. “okay, okay, okay…”

“yeah. okay.” you looked down, trying to hide your smile but she noticed.

“can i kiss you?” yuki whispered, squeezing your hands.

“mhm.” you nodded and smiled as she leaned towards you. she pressed a brief kiss on your lips and rested her forehead against yours.

“we’re not weird, okay?” she muttered.

three years ago you and your girlfriend shared your first kiss and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

even as you two go to school together and get the occasional looks from people who haven’t known you for years.

most people don’t look twice when yuki grabs your hand in the hallway or when you pass cheesy love notes to each other in class.

things technically improved. neither of you cry when you get separated from each other anymore. but you still look for each other first in every room, still sleep better together than apart, still texted just minutes after seeing each other.

although you still get a little upset when you have to walk home by yourself when yuki gets caught up with work or student council things.

all of your friends treat it like they always have. because you two have always been inseparable. nothing has changed.

except now you get to call yuki your best friend and your girlfriend.

━✧˖° ʚ🌠ɞ ✧･ﾟ : *✧ ･ﾟ: *. ・ ･ﾟ: ೃ࿔ *:･ *·˚ ᝰ̟۟

a/n : as a girl kisser happy pride month to everyone closeted, unsure, unlabeled, and out!!!! you’re all important and deserve love from anyone you choose 🏳️‍🌈:3

Sanji curls two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up in a familiar gesture of warmth and tenderness in a pointless effort to lull himself into a false sense of security.

“You want the truth? You are a needy, clingy and exhausting little thing. Always looking for attention, needing reassurance and affection, disgustingly desperate for someone to love you. All it took was a hollow smile here, a fabricated compliment there and you were bending over backwards for me - or just bending over really, if we’re being honest.”

You physically startle at the crude comment, attempting to retreat and get away from his touch, but he doesn’t let you, even if it costs him his own sanity, the grip with which he traps your jaw is harsh and he prays to any deity willing to listen that the shock he watches take over your entire system has you mistaking the disgust he knows to be contorting his features at his own actions as something directed towards to you.

“Stop it…” you whisper hoarsely, clawing at his wrist, silently begging for him to let you go, to end this, defiant and stubborn, despite the tears he can see gathering at your lashes, his chest seizing like it’s about to cave in at the mere sight.

“Stop what? Telling the truth? Your own parents, the first people who were supposed to love you, sold you as a science experiment for a few Berry and you genuinely thought you’d find someone else in this world who’d love you unconditionally? You’ve only ever been worth what people could take from you, no more, no less.”

Every insecurity, every fear, every personal hell, entrusted to him during sleepless nights spent talking on deck with freezing fingers curled around steaming mugs, during rare lazy mornings whispered between the sheets with the first rays of the sun as the only witness. All of the pain, once calmed, hushed and made bearable, now weaponized against you with venomous intent to pull you apart at the seams by the very same person.

“It was fun while it lasted, but I’m done taking, so save yourself whatever little dignity you might have left and get. lost.”

Sanji turns then, striding towards the waiting carriage without another look back. He doesn’t need to. The image of your tear streaked face, bottom lip trembling, beautiful eyes glassy and wide in disbelief and horror and hurt, is gonna be burned into his retinas for the rest of his miserable life.

You don’t call out to him again, don’t reach for him, not when he climbs back into the carriage and not when they start moving again, pulling him further away from you.

He buries his hands in his hair, tugging on the blond strands harsh enough to sting, trying to hide his own tears and anguish from his laughing brothers and distract himself from the sheer agony of his heart coming apart in his chest, jagged, broken shards burrowing into his rib cage to make a new permanent home. His teeth come down on his bottom lip hard, struggling to keep the sobs at bay, until the tangy, warm taste of copper creeps onto his tongue.

Good. If he’s lucky, maybe he’ll choke on it.

Sanji wakes in a cold sweat, sheets tangled around his longs legs and shirt sticking to his clammy skin, the memory of the taste of his own blood still clinging to the back of his throat, sending him upright retching and gagging. No matter how many gulps of air he forces into his lungs, it isn’t enough to assuage the burning ache in his chest, so he scrambles out of his bunk, yanking a hoodie and his cigarettes from his locker as he stumbles toward the door on unsteady legs.

The low growl of thunder accompanied by the occasional streak of lightning cutting through the night off somewhere on the far horizon greet him when he steps outside, the gusts of wind reaching the Sunny still enough to snuff the flame from his lighter. Curses fall from his lips as he climbs the steps to the second floor, trembling hands cupped around the cigarette between his teeth until the end finally catches flame, a dimly glowing ember when he takes a drag. His back collides with the railing in exhaustion, head tipping back to exhale in a long heavy breath, watching the smoke curl up and disappear against the dark, starry sky. The second cigarette is already reduced to nothing by the time he realizes he’s wandered close to the sick bay without meaning to, drawn to you like moth to flame, as he always is.

He chances a glance through the bullseye on the door and finds Chopper safely tucked in and contentedly snoring on the bed, no doubt your handiwork; an attempt at a placating gesture, considering you are blatantly ignoring the doctor’s orders for bed rest yet again. As hard as the little reindeer has tried to make the space that is the sick bay as warm and inviting and comforting as possible, you could never stand to be around anything even remotely resembling a laboratory: syringes, vials, medical notes. Everything too much like the cage you’d been locked up and used in for so long, the subtle reminders always enough to leave you nauseous and anxious. Sanji knows this, of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve bolted from the infirmary to be literally anywhere else on the ship.

Most nights, you had ended up in the kitchen - supposedly because it was the closest room. Gentleman that he is, Sanji had never doubted you. Maybe, once upon a time, it had actually been the truth. Not anymore, though. It hasn’t been the truth, your real reason for seeking comfort in the kitchen of all places, for a long time. Now, with the remnants of a wreckage of his own making staring back at him, the cook has to wonder if you’ll ever look at him like that again. Between stopping the wedding and running for your lives, you two haven’t had the time to speak about anything that’s gone so wrong. But he has to set things right, try to at the very least, you have to know how he really feels, that he didn’t mean a single word of the hateful vitriol and vile lies he spat at you. Of course he won’t blame you if it doesn’t change anything; after he took the beautiful thing you’d built together and twisted it into something ugly and horrid? Yeah, you should hate him.

He makes a quick stop in the kitchen to prepare something to keep you warm tonight where he won’t be able or wanted, then proceeds to check the rest of the Sunny, ultimately finding you at the back of the ship, arms crossed on the railing, head buried between and it could be an illusion, nothing more than the moon’s rays reflecting off the waves, but he swears he sees your shoulders shake.

Are you crying?

‘And whose fault is that?’ a voice in the back of his head asks, snide and cruel.

‘Pretentious aren’t we? Why would they be wasting tears over a failure like you?’ another one answers, mocking and apathetic.

Sanji begs them both to just shut up for once in his life.

The scent of lavender and honey carried along with the sea breeze reaches you, your head snapping up instantly to find a steaming mug on the railing next to you, placed with such practiced ease and quiet care, if you weren’t so attuned to his presence, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until after he had gone again. Swiveling your head to search for the source of your comfort, you find him a few feet behind you, so busy shrugging out of his hoodie, he completely misses how your entire face lights up and the tension bleeds from your whole body at his presence. Warmth engulfing you follows, accompanied by the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and spices clinging to the fabric now draped over your shoulders, and the way he so desperately makes sure not to touch you while doing it, trying to preserve whatever fragile semblance of peace the blanket of night has provided over the current mayhem in your lives by not invading your space, has your heart twisting painfully in your chest.

“I know you don’t like being confined in the sick bay, my love—” He cuts himself off abruptly, unsure if he’s still allowed to call you his, then continues with a little shake of his head, voice quiet and strained. “Please do make sure you get some rest nonetheless.” He turns to leave so fast, you barely manage grab a hold of his hand, effectively and immediately stopping him in his tracks, frozen mid step, upper body angled away from you as you tug on his hand gently in a clear demand for him to stay. He does, yet he refuses to look at you and no matter how long you wait, silently begging him to acknowledge you, he doesn’t budge. Realizing you’ll have to be the one to make the first move, you circle around, coming to a halt in front of him, fingers still tightly wrapped around his wrist, terrified he’ll bolt if you let go. Stubborn to a fault, he’s still turned away from you, hair falling into his face to hide his ocean eyes from your searching gaze. Calling his name quietly, begging and oh so soft, only has him flinching away from you as if struck, so careful fingers instead trail up his arm to gently trace the bandage that peeks out from under his shirt sleeve, desperately trying to coerce him into lifting his head through touch instead of words.

When he doesn’t recoil again, your fingers drift higher, along his shoulder, over his collarbone, his neck, until finally your knuckles ghost over his cheek in a barely there caress, avoiding the fading yellow bruises, still an ugly violet in parts, matching the scabbed over cut below his visible eye and the split lip. All recent injuries, yes, but not fresh enough to have come from your struggle escaping Big Mom’s territory. You’re very well aware where they actually came from, who inflicted them on him and your heart aches for him all over again.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, my light.” you croak, the sting of unshed tears already in your eyes as you bring your other hand up as well, your touch growing firmer but no less gentle as you cup his face. “I wish I could’ve done more. I should have.” That’s what finally has his gaze snapping to yours, eyes wide in shock and horror, mouth falling slightly agape as he stares at you as if you’ve lost your mind. You don’t let it deter you though. “I was so worried about you the entire time you were gone, I… You didn’t deserve to get trapped with those monsters again.” He springs into action as if struck by distant lightning, long, slender fingers curling around your wrists in a soft, grounding touch, lips tugging upward in a joyless, rueful smile that doesn’t reach his sapphire eyes, wet with unshed tears. “You see that’s where you’re wrong, I did. I deserved that and so much worse, a just punishment for my actions and yet nothing they could inflict on me could ever pain me as horribly as what I did to you. Mon cœur, not a single word I said was true, I need you to know that.”

A small, sad smile matching his precedes your next words, heart cracking at the mere notion that he genuinely thought you’d ever truly doubt his love and devotion for you. “You really think I didn’t already know? You were trying to protect me by pushing me away, I understood that while it was happening, Sanji.”

The frown on his handsome face only seems to etch itself deeper.

“The end doesn’t justify the means. You trusted me with something as precious as your heart and I couldn’t even keep it safe and cherished, fitting for a failure like myself. Instead I humiliated you and treated you like dirt.” A bark of laughter, incredulous and self deprecating, as he releases his hold on you and steps out of your reach, digging a cigarette out of his pockets and lighting it with trembling fingers, a deep inhale to soothe his nerves before he continues speaking. “So why aren’t you furious? Why do you still care about me? After all of it, how can you even look at me with anything but disgust?! I don’t—” He interrupts himself with another long drag, then moves to throw the butt of his cigarette overboard, leaning his elbows on the railing, back to you and both hands buried in his hair, anxiously tugging at the blond strands like he always does when he’s upset or worried. Meanwhile you remain rooted to the spot, slipping your arms into the sleeves of his hoodie before wrapping them around yourself for comfort, aching to reach out and soothe him, but you know he wouldn’t allow it right now, so you give him his space, let him work through this on his own.

The lull of the waves against the hull of the ship and the song of distant thunder fills the silence between you for a while and only when you see him drop his hands from his hair, his shoulders no longer heaving with heavy breaths, followed by the familiar click of his lighter do you move towards his form with quiet, careful steps, coming to stand beside him, mindful to keep some distance between you. Your back is against the railing, stealing wistful sideways glances at his profile, trying to gauge what’s going through his mind as you watch smoke curl towards the stars.

It takes him another moment to gather the courage to speak his next words aloud. “My intentions don’t matter, there’s no excuse in this world or the next that could justify my actions, I… I hurt you.” The poor cook can barely bring himself to say it, fresh tears brimming in his pretty blue eyes when he finally brings his gaze to yours again. You open your mouth to argue, but he doesn’t let you, fully aware of what you’re going to try and do. “Please, mon étoile, don’t pretend I didn’t. I could see it in your eyes.”

Yet again you want to argue but one look at him is enough to have your shoulders slumping in defeat. “I… I won’t lie to you, my love, after all, you’d catch me in it anyways.” A weak, humorless chuckle follows, then you mirror his stance to stare out at the horizon, watching lightning split the sky as you stall for time, struggling to find the right words. Words that will be truthful but won’t cause him any more pain and guilt - a fruitless endeavor, the longer you think on it, so you start speaking even if you don’t feel ready. “There’s always been a part of me… a little, cruel and mocking voice in the back of my head, constantly telling me I’m not worthy to be part of his crew, that I don’t deserve to have someone like you loving me. Always reminding me that I’m too much, yet not enough and hearing you of all people confirm that just… well, that voice is just gonna be a little louder now, I guess…”

Said voice has also started to sound an awful lot like your lover, but you could never bring yourself to tell him that. Not when he already looks like he’d rather throw himself overboard and drown than to have ever had a hand in your suffering.

“I’d give my life to take it all back.” he confirms, grief making his voice crack halfway through.

Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you offer him a weak, but genuine smile as you push his hair away from his eyes and gently cradle his face in both of your hands.

“So it’s either live with what happened or live without you? I can handle the first, I could not bear the latter, my light, so please don’t make me.”

Tears slip down his cheeks, brushed away by a stroke of your thumb as he leans into your touch, nuzzling into your hand before turning his head to press his lips to your palm, the touch lingering and reverent, then, in a voice so low and wrecked with guilt it almost gets carried away on the sea breeze, “So what can I do…?”

‘Absolutely nothing.’ is what you want to say, that he’s long since been forgiven for any sins he thinks he has to atone for, that you’ve been waiting for him with open arms and an open heart since he left, but he’ll never accept that. Luckily you know him well enough to have anticipated this predicament.

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually…” you start, his full attention on you in an instant, sapphire eyes bright with determination, tightly clasping your hands in his like a lifeline.

“Anything. I’ll do anything.” The fact that he truly means it melts your heart as much as it terrifies you.

“Since you seem so adamant about proving that your words weren’t true, I want you to do just that. I wanna be showered in affection and compliments and fall asleep every night feeling cherished enough to not question my worth. Love me loud enough so that the little voice in my head doesn’t even get the chance to speak up.”

He blinks owlishly, processing your words, trying to make sure he heard you right. He couldn’t have.

Of course you know what you’re asking of him - or rather aren’t asking, after all, he already heeds all of these requests every single day without fail and without even trying. Your cook wears his heart on his sleeve and his love for you is no different; it’s ever present, constantly wrapped around you like a warm blanket. You’ve never felt more protected and cherished, downright worshipped, then when he’s by your side, inner demons recoiling and retreating at the light he brings into your life, yet he’s constantly insisting that he’s the lucky one to have you, readily and proudly declaring himself yours whenever given the slightest opportunity.

His arms your home, his voice your lullaby, his heartbeat your safe haven, his laugh your sun - his love loud and encompassing in the best, most beautiful way imaginable and it comes to him so naturally and effortlessly, you can’t imagine asking for more.

So you don’t, instead disguising his regular adoration and devotion as your idea for his supposed atonement, even though you know he’ll abhor the idea, yet what is he going to do, refuse you?

The longer he continues to gawk at you in utter disbelief, the harder it becomes for you to keep the self satisfied grin off your face, eventually trapping your bottom lip between your teeth in a futile attempt. Realization finally settles over his features and for a moment, you think he’ll argue, insist it’s not enough, but he only ends up heaving a sigh while running a hand through his hair before he leans in close to leave a kiss on your temple.

“Well, you sure set this trap up quite brilliantly.”

“Why thank you, I thought so, too.”

Sanji watches another lightning bolt branch across the horizon over your shoulder, bright against the dark backdrop of the night, the distant clap of thunder close behind. A storm just like this one had accompanied your first meeting and he almost wants to slap himself for how obvious it all was from the very start.

Coup de foudre.

A lightning strike. Or… love at first sight.

The universe itself going out of it’s way to show him just how important you’d be to him the second he first laid eyes on you and even so it had still taken him longer than he’d ever care to admit to finally understand why everything felt brighter and easier and more beautiful when you were by his side.

“There was a thunderstorm the night we met, too, do you remember?”

You pull back from his embrace to look at him quizzically, clearly confused by the sudden change of topic, but you go along with it, nodding in confirmation. “Yes, I remember that mess…”

A miracle really, considering most of your early time with the crew is a bit hazy. That night though… a horrible storm that had threatened to tear the ship apart, a frightened, feral little thing, freshly awoken in an unfamiliar place full of strangers after years of imprisonment and torture, and a poor cook with the misfortune to run into said terrified creature, who still carries the faint scar from that encounter on his jaw today. You’ll end up placing a kiss on that exact scar more often than not, a never ending apology, your memories of that night not something you recall fondly.

Judging by the look he’s fixed you with, though, he clearly feels differently and you understand the workings of his mind well enough to know what’s coming, so you immediately put a damper on what you’re sure he’s gonna say next.

“Sanji, if you now try to tell me something about love at first sight, I’m officially declaring you insane.”

He simply shrugs and grins at you, the bastard. “Would you prefer I phrase it differently, ma chérie? Becoming aware of the certainty that my life would change because now you were in it? The whole world shifting on its axis to bathe everything in a new light?”

“Considering the storm, you think that might’ve just been the ship tilting?” you ask, tone bone dry, earning yourself a slight pinch to your sides and an indignant huff, all mock annoyance and very real fondness.

“Not quite love at first sight maybe, but… intrigue. Curiosity. The need to learn everything. Looking back on it now, that stormy night was when I lost the first piece of my heart to you and the more I got to know you, the more pieces I willingly gave without even realizing until one day I just looked up and my heart wasn’t beating in my own chest anymore, safely cradled in your gentle hands instead and what a wonderful, magnificent, perfect place for it to be.”

Any and all teasing has slipped from your face, replaced by awe and reverence for the man in front of you, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when he gently gathers your hands to press your palms against his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under your fingertips, the beat of his heart strong and steady.

“As long as it’s beating, it’s yours. Come what may, it’ll belong to you until I take my last breath. No matter the distance between us, no matter the time we have to spend apart, if nothing else please know it to be true that I will love you until my dying day.”

Sight blurring, you blink away the tears until his handsome, kind face swims back into focus, wetness now clinging to your cheeks instantly brushed away by warm, soft thumbs as he cradles your face, your own hands still on his chest, desperately clinging to the song the rhythm of his heart provides.

“Did you mean for that to sound like wedding vows?” Sniffling, you try for a teasing tone and a confident grin - you miserably fail both, if the way his blue eyes cloud over with shame and the hold on your face growing firmer, more reassuring is anything to go by.

“Not necessarily, no. But considering you’re the only person I’m ever truly going to marry, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be allowed to hear something akin to vows now.”

“Is that what you really want, though?” you question, voice quiet and strained with the effort to keep the sobs trapped in your throat, tears only falling harder, trembling hands fisting in his shirt and your head dropping low, unable to still meet his gaze, causing his hands to fall from your cheeks and find purchase softly wrapped around your tense wrists instead. You’re trying to keep it together as best you can, but the joy and relief of having him back is ebbing away, the grief and terror of almost losing him in so may different ways in such a short amount of time finally catching up to you, your own suffering and fears rearing their ugly heads. “Sanji, if you think the only way you can rejoin the crew is to come back to me as well even though it’s not what you want, then I… I don’t— You shouldn’t—”

I don’t want you to.

You shouldn’t have to.

But your battered, selfish, aching heart doesn’t let you say it. Doesn’t want to hear what his answer might be. And with all the damage he managed to do by trying to protect you now staring him straight in the face, Sanji can feel his own heart bleeding alongside yours.

“Oh, mon étoile, no, you have it the wrong way around. I longed to return to you above all else. Not even an hour went by when I wasn’t thinking of you and ways to make amends for what I did.” A stuttering, heaving breath from you, the terrible word ‘But’ barely out of your mouth when he’s already speaking again, voice soft and warm, utterly unwilling to let you continue this horrendous train of thought, closing the small distance between you to press a kiss to your hair. “Why do you think I always call you that, hm? My star?”

The question is enough to cut through the cruel voices in your mind, the beautiful man in front of you already delivering exactly what you asked of him, and has you lifting your head to look at him because it’s true - as fond as he is of pet names for just about anyone, you’ve never heard him use that for anyone but you.

You give him a tiny, uncertain shrug, releasing the death grip on his shirt in favor of wiping a sleeve over your eyes. A steadying hand finds your waist, the other cradling the back of your head while his lips brush against your forehead in a quick, soft caress before his ocean eyes find yours again. “It’s because you’re my North Star, the beautiful constant that will always be there to guide me home, the light that remains when the rest of my world goes dark, the invisible pull I will always blindly, happily follow.”

Heat crawls up your neck and has you burying your face in your hands, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world worth breathing for, coupled with his words too much for the current fragile state of your heart, hammering against your rib cage so viciously you’re certain he has to feel it in his own bones. Dragging oxygen back into your lungs with heavy, shuddering breaths, you try to calm and compose yourself, while long, slender fingers draw soothing patterns into your skin, not pushing or demanding, simply a constant, reassuring presence, as he always is. You scrub your hands over your face a final time before you instead go to hide in the crook of his neck, arms coming around his waist in a hug tight enough to steal the air from his lungs, not that he would ever mind.

“You’re really mine, then…?” It’s barely a whisper, yet oh so hopeful.

Sanji just barely bites back a laugh, he’d never mean to belittle or make light of your insecurities and fears, he’d have the moss head run him through with all three swords before he’d even think of it, but the notion of him being anyone else’s is so utterly ludicrous, he can’t help it.

He returns your hug just as fiercely, lips leaving a whisper of a kiss just below your ear, then, “Je suis avant tout à toi. Never doubt that.”

A little laugh, soft and helpless. “I don’t… I don’t think I can promise that.”

Another kiss, chaste and gentle, to your jaw this time, then your cheek. “That’s okay. I’ll be here to remind you whenever you need.”

Your press yourself impossibly closer, arms tightening further, nails undoubtedly leaving marks on his back, meanwhile the kiss you leave on the pulse point of his neck is as tender and vulnerable as your voice. “Gods, I love you.”

His heart stutters like it’s about to stop, jumping in joy and devotion, desperately trying to find a way out of the prison of his ribs back to it’s real home. “I love you, too. More than I could ever hope to put into words. And I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

That has you pulling back slowly, carefully, not letting him go, never again, but far enough so that you can see his face, look into his beautiful ocean eyes when you speak. “Forever?” you suggest, peeking up at him through your lashes, lovely lips tugged upward in that crooked smile he adores so much. A low chuckle, his warm breath fanning over your face as he leans forward to seal his next words into your heart, body and soul with his lips finally finding yours again after so long.

“You hurt me, sweet Nami,” Sanji said but you felt the sway of the ship. “My heart has settled.”

“Sure, it has. A little further to the right.”

“Do you really not believe me? I made a special breakfast this morning cooked with all the love in my heart.”

“No, I don’t,” she answered quickly. “You do that for every woman you come across. Sometimes, they’re not even women but we just don’t bother telling you.”

You chuckled softly under your breath, quiet enough that the sound became lost to the waves. You never minded his flattering attentions turning elsewhere, especially because when he looked at you after, because only you could kiss him until he forgot any other woman existed.

“That’s different,” he protested. “I acknowledge beauty when I see it but I would never look away from the goddess in front of me.”

Nami sighed, clearly unimpressed. “I suppose you do badger her more than everybody else. You probably should let up a little.”

You heard him spluttering a response as the familiar heels clicked back toward her navigation room. You reached for your hat and sat up but Sanji must have followed her because you found yourself alone on the deck.

Although you meant to talk to him about it, the only alone time you found came long after dinner had passed.

A quiet hush had settled over the Sunny by the time dinner dishes had long since been cleared away. The kitchen lights still glowed warm against polished wood but the room sat empty, abandoned aside from Zoro asleep at one of the tables with his head tipped back and a bottle dangling loosely from his fingers. The usual noise of the crew had faded into the rush of waves against the hull and the distant groan of timber beneath your feet.

It was a lovely quiet but a worrying one and you didn’t slow until you spotted the familiar curl of smoke against the inky night sky. You made your way across the swaying deck, your steps careful against the uneven tilt of the deck beneath your feet.

“You seem to have plenty on your mind,” you commented as you approached.

Sanji smiled though he still looked concerned, teeth worrying the end of his cigarette. “I always have space in my thoughts for you.”

“Everything alright?”

“Do I badger you, mon amour?”

“Badger?” you repeated, hearing the echo of Nami’s conversation echoing through your mind as you stepped next to him. “I wouldn’t say so. Maybe you’re sweeter to me than to others but… well, I’m not complaining about that.”

He nodded, his gaze slipping to the waves. “Do you know that nobody thinks we’re together? They don’t believe me either.”

“I heard you talking with Nami,” you admitted. “She’s not very romantically focused.”

“No, I wish it was just her,” he lamented. “But I spoke to the others and none of them listened. Brook, Franky, and Robin all thought I was imagining things.”

You had to fight the urge to giggle at just how affronted he looked at the notion.

“It’s alright,” you reassured. “If you want, I can talk to everybody tomorrow at breakfast. Or maybe just kiss you good morning. That’ll set things straight.”

A faint red caught at his cheeks but he shook his head. “No, chérie. You don’t need to do anything to prove something but I don’t know why it’s so hard to believe. Maybe because you’re so beautiful, they couldn’t imagine it.”

You smiled at the theatrics. “They’re just being oblivious. Or maybe they’re even just teasing because they already know. It wouldn’t surprise me with Robin.”

“I think they’re convinced my flattery is meaningless.”

You reached out to fix his collar, smoothing the fabric where it had folded crooked beneath his jacket. As your fingers brushed the bare skin at the edge of his collar, Sanji went still beneath your touch, all warm skin and cigarette smoke against the sharp bite of the night wind.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I love the flattery. Whether it’s meaningless or sincere.”

He looked far less reassured than you’d hoped him to, concern furrowing his brow. “But it’s never meaningless,” he insisted. ““If it troubles you, then I’ll devote myself only to you. Gladly.”

“No, no,” you hurried to say, short breathless laugh escaping you. “You don’t have to do that. I know that it’s not the same as when you tell me you love me.”

“It’s insulting,” he muttered. “As though what I feel for you is the same as simple admiration.”

“They’ll know,” you promised. “Are you certain you don’t want me to tell them?”

He considered it before he huffed. “If they’re not going to believe me, I shouldn’t have to involve you. I can show them what I mean.”

You reached over and plucked the cigarette from his lips, bringing your lips to his instead. He made a surprised but pleased sound, kissing you back gently before you straightened.

You brought the cigarette to your lips playfully and he immediately snatched it back.

“Chérie, that’s terrible for you!”

“And yet I think this is your second pack today.”

“It’s not,” he protested, drawing you close with his free hand but keeping the cigarette decidedly out of your reach. “Besides, you deserve something far higher quality than these if you must.”

You laughed softly. “See, it’s those things that will prove it to them in a heartbeat.”

But whatever reassurance you gave him disappeared the next day.

The waves were choppy in the morning but not bad enough for you to consider going inside. You stood a little closer to the railing than you should have, allowing the wind to play with your hair as you swayed against the motion of the ship.

An errant tip of the Sunny sent you stumbling a little, far from anything dangerous, but enough that a smooth arm wrapped around your waist.

Sanji pulled you into his chest, hand resting against your hip firmly. “Careful,” he warned. “We’re having your favourite for lunch and it’ll taste far worse if you’re drenched.”

You stabilised yourself against his chest, laughing softly. “I’ll try my hardest.”

He smiled down at you when Zoro barked from nearby, “Quit hanging off her while we’re moving.”

Sanji’s head snapped to him immediately, glare sharp and agitated. “What are you on about now?”

Zoro glanced down toward the hand on your waist. “Just saying.”

“If my love didn’t want me to touch her, she’d let me know without you interfering,” Sanji hissed.

“Sure,” Zoro snorted as he walked away.

You shook your head at him but Sanji seemed far more appalled at the conversation than you had been. “Nobody,” he said. “Not even that idiot mosshead believes that we’re together. This is ridiculous.”

“You could probably try Luffy,” you suggested. “Or Chopper. They’ll believe just about anything.”

Sanji’s jaw twitched but he sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

You hoped he’d ask Luffy because you were quite certain that your captain already knew. Or, rather, you had told him. Several weeks ago, he saw you kiss Sanji on the deck and asked. He’d nodded and accepted your response though you had to admit, at the time, he was far more focused on lunch than you.

Not an hour later, you spotted Sanji talking eagerly to Luffy who simply nodded and offered him a thumbs-up that backfired shortly after.

“Sanji says they’re in love,” Luffy informed a sceptical Robin.

“I’ve heard that a lot lately,” Robin said sweetly and she smiled at you. “Do you believe it, Captain?”

“Sanji always says he’s in love with women so it’s probably true.”

Sanji who had been not-so-subtly eavesdropping hit his forehead against the wall and you had to stifle the desire to just outright confirm it. If not to ease his suffering. You waited until Robin left and he brought you a drink to offer a hand against his jaw in sympathy.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything?”

“I should be able to prove my love to a lady without her needing to make declarations,” he muttered. “Though I am starting to believe I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“Nah, they’re just used to you doing strange things,” Luffy said and you’d honestly forgotten he was still there, looking at your drink suspiciously.

You moved it away from him. “Luffy, I genuinely can’t tell whose side you’re on sometimes.”

“There are sides?”

“Mm,” you said. “Either you believe that we’re together or you don’t. We are, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said.

You laughed softly. “Alright then that’s settled. One person believes you, my love.”

Sanji sighed. “I suppose I cannot be picky anymore.”

A few hours before dinner, you were discussing budgets with Nami when you heard your name called over the deck. You lifted your head to meet Sanji’s gracious smile.

“When you have a second, mon amour, I could use your brilliant tastebuds,” he offered.

You smiled and tapped on the front of the book. “I’ll be there shortly.”

He disappeared back into the galley and you smiled at Nami who was giving you a look. “Did you know that you two are apparently together?” she asked. “Sanji hasn’t stopped about it for the past few days.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “So, I’ve heard.”

“You’re encouraging him too much,” Usopp told you and you caught his wrist before he could change the number Nami scribbled down.

“That is my goal,” you said. “All things considered though, he’s grown very immune to my charms. I can flirt endlessly and sometimes, he doesn’t even blush anymore. It’s very sad.”

Nami counted out some beri and shoved it toward Usopp before he could continue to complain about what was reasonable for ship repairs. You were just grateful that Robin was distracting Franky so this conversation could be had at a decent volume.

“I’m sure it’s just because you haven’t really been trying,” she told you. “With him being ‘in love’ and everything now, I promise, one touch to his arm and he’ll probably pass out.”

“I don’t know…” Usopp said. “He’s been getting more resistant to you know who.” He nodded toward you as though you couldn’t see him.

“You know my name,” you reminded him. “But I agree, he’s far more resilient to me.”

Nami rolled her eyes. “You two have too much faith.”

Usopp looked down at the beri in his hands and then back at her. “Want to put some money on it? If I’m right, we double the budget.”

She pressed her lips together. “I’ll give you an extra five hundred if you’re right. No more.”

“Eh… close enough.”

You raised an eyebrow at the bet being placed in front of you. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Not really,” Nami said. “You’re the one with so much faith in him. Go and bat your eyelashes or kiss his cheek and the moment he gets a nosebleed; I’m reducing the budget by a thousand for complaining so much.”

“Hey! How’s that fair?” Usopp asked.

“It’s not!”

You knew you could protest enough to get it dropped but also… it was sort of sweet that Sanji had grown slightly immune to your more obvious affections. It was a good thing too because if he started swaying every time you touched him like he’d once done, you’d never get anything done.

Nami cleared her throat and you stared at her over the table. She nodded her chin toward the galley.

“Words, please,” you asked.

“Go,” she insisted. “While he’s doing something unimportant. I don’t want this to impact dinner.”

You sighed as though they were asking you to move a mountain before standing anyway. “Why must I be involved in this?”

“Because you started the conversation in the first place.”

Evening had yet to arrive but the galley was already alive with the sounds of dinner preparation. Steam curled warmly through the kitchen and the sharp rhythm of Sanji’s knife carried above the crackle of the stove. Something sweet simmered faintly beneath the richer scent of butter and garlic as he worked steadily at the counter. His expression softened when you entered, gaze flicking past you just as the door to the galley swung closed.

“Are you aware you’re being followed?” he asked.

You didn’t even need to look to know both Nami and Usopp had their faces pressed against the circular windows.

“I am,” you said. “They’re debating budgets again. Usopp wants… to be honest, I wasn’t listening.”

He chuckled. “So why are they following you?”

You stepped into his space, tilting your head so they could see and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. He paused chopping briefly, turning to you so that he could smile softly, a gentle love clouding his eyes.

But no nosebleed. No fainting.

“They asked me to give you a kiss on the cheek,” you said with a smile.

“Well, I’ll never turn down something so sweet,” he answered. “But is that truly everything they wanted? Have you been talking to them about…”

“A little,” you laughed. “But I haven’t said anything too incriminating. They think you’ve become immune to my charms.”

Sanji lowered his knife completely, looking almost offended. “Chérie, that would be impossible. I could never become immune to you. You know that your beauty stuns me every time.”

“Mm, I think Nami just wanted an excuse to try spend less on the budget.”

Behind, you heard a sharp shout of acknowledgement, turning just in time to see Nami shaking her head in disappointment. They both disappeared from the door and you smiled faintly. At least Usopp got something out of this.

“Ah,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile. He picked up his knife again and resumed his dicing. “I’m being used as part of some scheme then.”

“Maybe a little.”

“I still got a kiss from you,” he said and he sounded unbearably pleased with himself over that fact alone. “I can hardly be upset over something so sweet.”

You smiled at him and your eyes flicked to the chopping board, noticing something off in his rhythm. “I can see you’re not entirely immune.”

“How so?”

You stepped behind him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating through his shirt. Your arm slipped carefully along his until your hand settled over his, thumb nudging his fingers back into their usual grip around the knife handle. It was as though you turned him to stone, his body stiff as he stared down at your hands.

“You almost never change your knife grip,” you teased. “Unless you’re distracted.”

Sanji tilted his head slightly to you, bright blue eyes stunned. A faint red appeared under his nose and you reached for a nearby cloth, holding it out to him. You left him standing there, still slightly stunned, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before you made your way back to Nami, mind still slightly focused on budget discussions.

You should probably just tell everybody because honestly, this was getting a little ridiculous though you still gave him a chance.

But your actions in the kitchen clearly made Sanji decide subtlety was no longer worth attempting.

He set your plate carefully in front of you while the rest of the crew continued eating around the table, overlapping conversations and clattering cutlery filling the space beneath his painfully fond smile. “For the most special person in the world. I made you your own dish this evening, crafted exactly to your liking. As my beloved, my angel, the dearest woman in the world and – ”

“Are we seriously still doing this?” Zoro muttered.

Nami didn’t even look up from her map. “Didn’t you say the same thing to a random girl at the market two islands ago?”

Sanji’s shoulders deflated. “No,” he protested. “I didn’t. My compliments to her were far lighter as Franky can confirm.”

“I don’t really listen when you start with the women nonsense,” Franky said factually. “Started tuning it out way long ago.”

“I think most of us do,” Usopp said.

You couldn’t really protest because you had to admit you’d also started to ignore exactly what he was saying when it involved strangers. What could you say, it got repetitive and those words were so boring compared to the compliments he offered you.

You took a sip of your tea, wondering if you should just kiss him and get it over with.

Though the perfect opportunity presented itself a few days later after the Sunny made it safely to another island.

With surprisingly little trouble to get into, the crew eventually crowded into a small café near the harbour. Warm light spilled across polished wooden tables while rows of glossy fruit pastries sat neatly arranged behind curved glass displays. The air smelled thickly of sugar and fresh cream, softened further by the sound of quiet conversation and dishes clinking somewhere behind the counter.

“Cook’s at it again,” Zoro told you and you raised your head to find Sanji deep in conversation with the other chef.

She was clearly flattered by his attention, smiling shyly as he talked about the various goods she was cooking. You watched with bemusement, wondering if it was the same as ever. He seemed cursed to never notice a women when she was interested in him.

He’d been exactly the same when you first met him.

Nami looked over the scene and huffed. “This is why I don’t listen when he says love of his life. Though admittedly he’s being… better than usual.”

“It still lasted longer than I thought it would,” Usopp said. “Guess you’re finally free then.”

“Oh, I hope not,” you said. “Sanji.”

He turned immediately at your voice, expression softening immediately when he met your eyes. You gestured him over to your table and he hurried to say something to the chef, making quick steps over to you.

“Yes, love?”

You reached for his tie, wrapping it around your hand and tugging him down. His lips met yours and he froze for a second before he returned the kiss sweetly, one hand settling lightly against the side of your face as he leaned down into you.

Then you let him go and smiled.

“You can go back to your conversation now,” you said, eyes flicking to the other chef just briefly to see her mildly annoyed expression. “I just had to prove a quick point.”

“Wait, Sanji was being serious?!” Usopp’s voice made you jump and you turned back to the rest of the crew with a slight shrug.

“Obviously. I never said he was wrong, did I?”

“I told you all,” Sanji huffed, his arms crossed over his chest. “But not one of you believed me.”

Nami’s expression was locked on you though and you shrunk a little under it without knowing what you’d done wrong. Then she folded her fingers together in front of you. “You made me lose money to Usopp? When you knew that would happen?”

Oh. Right.

You laughed nervously. “Nami-Chan, we’ve been friends for a very long time and I really value you as a person.”

She turned to Usopp who did flinch. “Give it back.”

“What?! But we bet that he would react and he didn’t! I didn’t say they were dating!”

“You had insider information!”

“I didn’t!”

“Like I’d believe you!”

Zoro lowered his bottle to give you a look between the argument. “Seriously? Him?”

“Not a word from you!” Sanji snapped. “You couldn’t get a beautiful woman to love you! Not with a thousand lessons.”

“Sounds troublesome. I’ll keep my blades.”

“What kind of a stupid comparison is that?!”

With both arguments rapidly climbing over each other and several nearby customers beginning to stare openly toward your table, you smiled apologetically to Robin who was simply sipping at her tea.

“I must admit, I didn’t guess you would finally do it,” she admitted. “But why the secrecy? I’m sure nobody would have minded.”

“It wasn’t a secret,” you said. “It just didn’t come up. I told Luffy about it almost the same day.”

“Oh right,” Luffy confirmed with a nod. “That was like months ago though.”

Several heads turned toward you, an overlapping chorus of ‘months?!’ exploding around the table. You were definitely getting kicked out of this café.

You lifted your head, curious at the gentleness of his words and his touch. “Join you?” you asked. “Do you not have a full crew already?”

“We do,” he said, his smile lazy as ever. “But I’ll make space for you.”

You laughed quietly to yourself, brushing some of his hair away from his face so you could appreciate him better. Too handsome for his own good. He knew he could get away with anything if he looked at you like that.

“I see a problem with your offer,” you said and he kissed further along your thigh.

“What is it?”

“It’ll make you lose interest too quickly.”

Shanks paused, leaning his cheek against your skin. “Lose interest?”

You moved your leg from his shoulder and leaned down to drag him higher up your body, fingers tangled in his hair and lips locked in a messy kiss. He still tasted of the drinks he’d downed earlier and that explained enough about his impulsive offer.

“It won’t be fun if I’m already on board your ship,” you teased.

“Nonsense. If I had you on my ship, I'd never get anything done. Becks would have to start captaining properly.”

“Don’t you do that when I’m around anyway?” you asked.

He hummed and kissed you again as though to distract you. “Maybe.”

You chuckled softly, unwilling to admit to him how much his offer tempted you. He was far too addictive to turn down. Especially when his tongue was in your mouth and his hand was dragging your leg back up his hip. If you didn’t focus, you could almost believe he wanted you to stay with him. But pretty words alone couldn’t sway you.

You still left the next morning and he didn’t stop you, just pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you slipped from the bed.

“We’ll see each other soon,” he said and he sounded far too confident.

You smiled. “I suppose it depends on if the sea favours us.”

“The sea’s a big friend of mine,” he reassured you. “I’m sure she’ll bring you back to me.”

He wasn’t wrong. No matter how far you sailed, the ocean didn’t give you long before it reunited you with the Red Hair Pirates. You stopped shying away from them after the third encounter, growing bolder with each offer Shanks tossed your way.

Now when you saw the Red Force docked in harbour, her flag snapping high above the masts, you'd wander the island until you found the right tavern. It was never difficult. Somewhere there would be a building with music spilling from the windows, laughter loud enough to shake the walls and patrons pretending not to stare at the cluster of infamous pirates occupying half the room. The Red Hair Pirates had a talent for making themselves at home wherever they landed.

They were a friendly crew. A mostly peaceful one, even. But they were the crew of an emperor and people respected that deeply.

You walked in most times, walked out with your hands in Shanks’ hair every time, and it was never a problem.

Not until the one evening when you waltzed in and half of his crew nudged their captain as though he hadn’t already raised his head to look at you. You smiled at him and made your way to the bar, not bothering him and the woman currently pressed to his arm.

But he never wasted time in approaching you, even if he was busy. He slipped up behind you as you ordered your drink and nodded to the bartender.

"Whatever she's having is on me."

You hummed. “You’re going to run your ship dry if you pay for the drinks of every girl that smiles at you.”

His arm slipped naturally around your waist, resting on your hip as though it belonged there. “Not every girl with a great smile,” he corrected. “Just the ones who need a bit more convincing to dance with me.”

The music in this tavern wasn’t quite suited for dancing. It was softer and almost impossible to hear over the shouts of his crew.

“I might need more convincing than a drink,” you commented.

“Name your price.”

Shanks was far too good at making your heart flutter, no matter how often you were exposed to his seemingly endless charm. He already knew he’d get what he wanted that night and you knew it too but sometimes, making him work for it was part of the fun.

“You’ve been trying to guess at my price for a while now,” you said. “You haven’t gotten any closer.”

“I’ll figure it out with enough time.”

You turned to face him fully, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders. “I’m lucky I managed to find you without any other pretty women around, hm? Ones with more reasonable demands?”

He chuckled and leaned in to press his lips against the side of your throat. “There are plenty. Funny thing is, I keep ending up back here.”

You tilted your head to the side. “As easy to lead back to your bed?”

The expression he gave you was off – a smile that didn’t quite get to his eyes. “Such little faith in me. You’re lucky I don’t get hurt easily.”

“It’s not a lack of faith,” you corrected. “But I know you enjoy the chase more than the reward.”

“I enjoy both as long as you’re there.”

You smiled. “I think you’d miss it too much.”

“Miss what? Waking up alone? Sounds awful.” He pulled you closer. “Can’t say I’d mind having you there instead.”

“The pining,” you corrected. “The wondering when you’ll see me again. Trying to convince me every time. If I was already there, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.”

Something unreadable flickered over his face. “You think I’m trying to convince you for fun?”

“You wouldn’t do it if it was unpleasant.”

“Or if it wasn’t worth it.”

You couldn’t help being flattered by him, always so smooth. You loved the way he spoke sometimes – the way he made you feel as though you were the only important person in the world.

“I’m surprised your crew isn’t filled with women thanks to those pretty words of yours,” you said. “Even I struggle to tell you no.”

Shanks laughed, a short sound. “Wouldn’t have guessed you struggle with it.”

You leaned in, your mouth hot against his. He kissed you lazily as though you had nowhere else to be, allowing you to lead him through it.

“I’ll get us a room upstairs,” you said with a hum.

For a second, he smiled. Then he leaned in to press a swift peck to the corner of your mouth and said, “No.”

It was as though even the music itself paused as you blinked at him. “No?”

“As much as I love chasing you,” he said, stepping away and leaving the space in front of you feeling very empty. “I’m starting to think you enjoy being chased more than you want me. We set sail in the morning. The offer still stands.”

You watched him walk away in mild confusion, still a little lost before his words caught up to you.

Was he serious?

The bartender placed your drink down next to you but you barely heard it. The music carried on around you as though nothing had changed. A few members of the Red Hair Pirates were starting up a song. The woman he’d been talking to earlier grinned when he returned but he took a seat aside Yasopp instead.

You looked around the party and shrugged, taking your drink and a seat at the bar. If he didn’t leave, you had no reason to either.

Maybe he was trying to prove a point? You thought he might look for another woman whose words didn’t sting as bad as yours did, but he drank and laughed with only his crew and you pretended not to see the way he looked at you. As though he was waiting for something.

You finished your drink and swung off the stool, sliding the beri across to the bartender.

“Isn’t – ”

“I can pay for myself.”

The cold night air was refreshing against your face but the familiar curl of cigarette smoke drew your attention to a very unaffected Beckman. You paused when you saw him, not sure if he had something to say. He looked like he did.

“Running away again?”

“No idea what you mean,” you retorted.

He tilted his head toward the swinging door of the tavern; each time it moved, the raucous din bled through into the night. Beckman wasn’t even really what you would consider an acquaintance but he’d dragged Shanks out your bed more times than you could count.

“It’s early for you to be leaving alone,” he noted.

You didn’t have any reason to explain the break in routine to his first mate. And yet…

“Change of pace tonight,” you said. “I think I offended him.”

Beckman nodded. “You did.”

“I didn’t even know that was possible.”

He shrugged and offered you a cigarette. “I didn’t think it was until recently. Not many people can get under his skin.”

“I’m not wrong though,” you defended yourself.

“No,” he agreed. “You weren’t at one point. I’ve long since lost track of how many women I’ve had to drop off at port in the mornings but none of them were recent. Since he met you, there’s been no others.”

You didn’t want to admit to the way that made your heart flutter just slightly. “It’s the challenge. He tries to get me to join your merry little crew, I do, and then he gets bored in a month.”

“It’s possible.”

You didn’t know why it annoyed you so much that he agreed with you but you felt the glare before you could stop it. True or not, he could have said it in a better way.

“Why does it bother you so much then?” Beckman asked. “If you’re so sure that it’s the truth?”

“It’s still not nice to hear.”

“Because you’ve fallen in love with him?”

You shot him a sharp look. If you didn’t know quite how dangerous this man was, you may have snapped a little more venomously. How you hated him for saying the quiet parts of your worst thoughts out loud.

“I don’t fall in love that easily,” you huffed. “I just don’t particularly feel like joining a pirate crew to be a pretty face on the sidelines.”

“He says you have good enough aim that you won’t be wholly useless. And I’m sure he’ll teach you more if you ask.”

You had no other defence. On a different crew, you may have believed him but you’d heard the legends of the Red Hair Pirates and their skills. You would not sail with an emperor just for the sake that he found you attractive. That was a ridiculous decision. Even without the risk that he lost interest once you gave him what he wanted.

“You can see where we’re docked?” Beckman asked.

“Hard to miss.”

“Then you may as well prove your point.” He blew a puff of smoke into the sky. “You can be useless, let him lose interest and I’ll concede that you’re right.”

“And if I would rather things remain as they are?”

“They won’t. You’ve already ruined that part.”

You almost didn’t board. The Red Force came to life while you stood on the dock, shrouded in shadows and watched the sun rise over the horizon the next morning. The crew woke with complaints of headaches and aches as they got to work.

They were about to weigh anchor by the time you finally found the courage to walk forward, catching Hongo with a look right before he raised the ladder.

He stared for a second and then gestured you to board.

It was a strange feeling to step onto the Red Force. The gangplank creaked softly beneath your boots and the ship rose and fell beneath you with the easy rhythm of the sea. For years she had existed as something distant, spoken about in stories and rumours across countless ports. Yet the deck felt solid beneath your feet. The tarred ropes smelled no different from those of any other vessel. No monsters waited beyond the railings. Just a few curious glances and shouted greetings as the wind swelled her sails.

“He’s downstairs,” Hongo said. “Drank more than usual so he’s still nursing a hangover if you want to see him.”

You looked toward the ship’s doctors. “With how much you lot drink, I’m honestly surprised you don’t have a cure already.”

He smiled. “Maybe I do but I simply enjoy the peace in the mornings. Do you want a tour?”

It wasn’t as though you had anything better to do although it did catch you off guard just how unsurprised the Red Hair Pirates seemed to be about your arrival. Not one of them even mentioned your arrival as the wind caught her sails.

Not even Beckman who gave you a simple nod.

The Red Force was kept in beautiful condition. She was evidently loved and no room felt neglected as you followed Hongo through her passages.

Hongo walked you through the galley, the infirmary, the stores, and everywhere else you might need aboard. You memorised the route as best you could, making note of scuffed boards and chips in the wood rather than considering the ship as anything more. It was easier to focus on that, you realised.

Hongo stopped at a door at the end of a passage that led through the quarters and he pushed it open with casual ease.

“This one’s yours.”

You frowned at the way he said it before stepping inside.

A warm, clean room waited beyond the doorway. Sunlight spilled through the small window, stirring the pale curtains where the sea breeze caught them. A narrow bed sat against one wall with blankets folded neatly across the end while an empty chest waited beside a small desk untouched by clutter. Nothing looked lived in. Nothing looked abandoned either. The room carried the strange feeling of something prepared and patiently waiting.

Guest quarters maybe? Though that hardly made sense and this didn’t look like a spare room, briefly swept out when you stepped aboard. They wouldn’t have had time for that.

There was an explanation that made sense though not one you fully grappled with.

“How long has this been here?” you asked.

“Couple months now. Captain wanted it ready if you ever changed your mind.”

You tried not to let it show just how much that made your stomach twist. He’d prepared a room on his ship in case you joined?

Still, you tried to ignore the topic for a little longer by returning to the deck after leaving your bag. You found an opportunity to lean against one of the cannons, talking to Yasopp about nothing of importance while you watched the island fade behind you.

The door onto deck opened and Shanks stepped out, dishevelled and hiding his eyes from the sun.

Naturally his crew all shouted at once in response to his obvious headache and he winced visually, which only made the others laugh harder. You couldn’t help but smile, chuckling softly at their torment.

He spun at the sound, grin disappearing at once.

Your heart lodged in your throat as you stared, not certain what you should say.

“You’re here?”

Well, he didn’t have to sound so surprised.

“Have been for the whole morning,” you said, your voice quieter than you meant for it to be. “But I thought I should let you get your beauty sleep.”

He chuckled as he walked over, smile gentler than you’d ever seen it before. His eyes glinted with barely concealed excitement as he approached. “Did somebody show you around? To your room?”

“You set that up a while ago,” you said. “Very confident.”

“Hopeful,” he clarified. “How long are you staying for?”

You hesitated before you answered. If you really wanted to, you could disappear the next time you found yourself at an island. But something about that room sitting and waiting for you made leaving feel far less appealing than it ever had before.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you settled on saying.

“That’s fine. When you do leave, just tell me before you go.”

“I will,” you promised.

How many years had passed since you made that promise now? You thought back on it, trying to remember while you swirled the drink in your hand, Shanks’ hand still resting on your hip where it belonged.

“Lost in thought?” he asked.

“Lost in memories,” you corrected with a small smile.

“Oh?” He leaned in close and pressed a kiss right behind your ear in the way that always made you laugh. “Which ones?”

“Ancient ones. I realised that I’m still waiting for you to get bored of me so I can run away.” You took a sip of your drink and tilted your head toward him. “You getting there yet?”

He laughed proudly. “Nowhere close. I should probably be more careful though. Think you’d sooner shoot me than run away now.”

You chuckled in agreement and leaned in to kiss him, slow and lazy as ever. “Maybe. I’m no longer much of a runner.”

you were scrambling all day, being everywhere and doing everything all at once. the hands she wanted to grab were busy with paperwork, and the lips she wanted to kiss were always busy talking to someone else. just by tracking your movements, she could tell how swamped you were with your business. you were a tea shop owner, so you were dealing with several people at once about the building bills, supplies, and stock.

“i told you, we needed fifty of these bags by tomorrow morning!”

“this isn’t nearly enough. we need to order another box.”

“what do you mean? i paid the bill just two days ago!”

you were busy, and she knew it, and the busier you got, the more restless she became. her foot kept tapping the ground impatiently, arms folded tight across her chest. you were having a bad day, sure, but she was having a bad day, too!

all she wanted was just five, maybe ten minutes of your time. just your attention for a quick moment — a kiss and a hug here and there—but you were too busy. 

too busy for her.

you were sitting at an empty table, hair a mess as you sorted through your paperwork. through her senses, toph knew there was no one else near you.

so, she took it upon herself to wrap her arms tight around you from behind, pulling you into a hug so deep it nearly threw you off the back of the bench.

“what—? toph—!”

“finally,” she hummed, nuzzling her nose into the back of your hair, breathing you in. “been waiting for this all damn day.”

“toph,” you sighed, pulling away from her as you started sorting through your papers again. “now’s not the time.”

“what do you mean?” she frowned at the loss of your warmth. “you’re not doing anything right now—”

“i’m doing plenty!” you argued back, your voice rising higher than you anticipated. you ran a hand down your face. “i’m sorry, tophie. i’m just really busy right now—”

your voice was interrupted by a harsh scoff from your stubborn girlfriend, her arms folding across her chest defensively. 

“yeah—i fucking know that. you’ve been busy all damn day.”

you turned to raise a brow at her. “don’t give me that attitude, honey—”

“and don’t call me honey when you haven’t even acted like a good partner at all today!” she yelled even louder, her body shaking from all the frustration that had built up.

that’s when you got up, giving her your full attention — but not in the way she wanted.

“excuse me? what did you just say to me?”

“you heard me alright,” she spat back. “i’ve been wanting something—anything from you all day. a kiss... or... or maybe even a hug! but i was respecting you and your business and didn’t want to make you look unprofessional. now that you finally have a second, you’re still giving me none of it!”

her words made you recoil. 

“not acting like a good partner?” you repeated, your voice dropping from a yell to a broken quiet. “toph, i am running myself into the ground trying to keep this place afloat. i’m doing this for us. for our future. so excuse me if i’m a little distracted when the supplier tries to screw us over on shipping costs!”

toph didn’t back down. what did you expect? she never did. 

she stepped closer, jabbing a finger to your chest as her eyes drifted a little past your shoulder. “i don’t care about the supplier right now! i care about the fact that i’ve been sitting in the corner like a piece of furniture all day. i don’t need a whole grand gesture. i needed two seconds of you acknowledging i exist!”

“i know you exist!” you snapped, rubbing your temples as a headache began to pulse behind your eyes. “but i can’t just drop everything the second you want a hug! i have responsibilities!”

“oh, so wanting to touch my girlfriend makes me a distraction? a chore on your checklist?” her voice cracked, a rare, vulnerable break in her tough rock of a shell. “fine. message received. go back to your precious papers.”

she turned on her heel with every intention to stomp back all the way home. but through her feet, she felt the way your heart raced in a panic. 

before she could go out of reach, your hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. 

“toph, wait. please.”

her back was still turned to you, stiff. 

“i’m sorry,” you whispered. “i’m so tired. i’m failing at the shop, and now i’m failing you, and i just... i don’t have anything left in the tank today. i shouldn’t have yelled.”

there was a long, painful pause, and you weren’t entirely sure how toph was going to react.

toph’s shoulders slumped, her anger replaced by that same craving of just… wanting your attention. except now she felt ten times guiltier. 

she hated when you got like this. she hated that she couldn’t see your face to know exactly how bad it was, but the way your breath shook told her enough.

slowly, she turned to you. 

she didn’t say anything as she stepped into your space, crowding your body with hers as she slumped her head against your shoulder. she sighed softly, her strong arms wrapping you in a tight hug that you returned easily. 

atlast. she finally got to hold you. 

“you’re not failing the shop,” she grumbled softly, keeping her eyes shut as she soaked in your warmth and smell. “and you’re not failing me. you’re just.. bein’ an idiot who doesn’t know when to take a break.”

you let out a tired laugh, your hand rubbing her back up and down. you knew how much she liked it. “yeah. you’re probably right.”

“i’m always right,” she murmured, voice growing softer in ways that made your heart ache. 

You had a feeling when you woke up that morning and dressed for your date with Toph, that your life was about to change. At the time, though, you couldn’t have guessed in what way.

By evening, the world seemed to hold its breath around you two. A cool breeze wandered through the sweeping branches of the great willow trees, stirring their silver-green leaves into a hush of whispers overhead. The air around you was heavy with the rich perfume of blooming jasmine, its sweetness drifting through the secluded clearing like something soft and sacred.

You and Toph were nestled close atop a soft woolen blanket spread thick across the grass, an open wicker picnic basket resting between you like a small offering. Inside lay the remains of the quiet feast you had prepared with careful hands.

Spicy fire-flakes sat scattered at the bottom beside a platter of half eaten miniature sandwiches you brought from one of your favorite spots. To satisfy Toph's sweet tooth you packed some ripe moon-peaches which were rare and difficult to find, their fragrant skin still warm from being plucked fresh.

Tucked carefully beside them was a steaming thermos of tea, brewed for nearly an hour until it was crafted exactly the way Toph liked it. Every once in a while she would offer you her cup so you could heat the liquid with your bending because if it wasn't scalding hot she wouldn't drink it.

The two of you had been wrapped in the rare luxury of complete isolation, hidden away in a forgotten corner of the park. It was a tranquil refuge Toph had stumbled upon during one of her patrols, a place so far removed from the rest of the world that she insisted no wandering crowds would ever find you here.

Yet, as the sun slowly dips below the horizon and the quiet afternoon softened into dusk, you picked up on subtle change in the air.

Over the slow sips of her tea, you notice that Toph has grown uncharacteristically still. The easy, playful banter from earlier had faded into a gentle stillness that seemed to settle over her shoulders, grounding her in a deep, contemplative silence.

Toph frequently drifted into these silent spaces beside you, retreating into the depths of her mind as though navigating a world entirely of her own. It was never a sign of distance, she made it undeniably clear that every moment spent enveloped in your presence was something she deeply cherished.

But you could tell with the approach of your one year anniversary that a force was pulling at her. An unvoiced turbulence of thoughts and hidden vulnerabilities she wasn't quite ready to lay bare before you just yet.

“Toph?” You turned to look at her, your hand reaching out to cradle her jaw as you pressed your thumb into her cheek, soothing the tension forming there.

Toph leaned into your touch, her eyes closing as she let out a shaky breath. The usual rigidity in her posture began to ease beneath your hand, leaving her looking softer and more vulnerable than she ever allowed herself to be around the rest of the world.

“I can tell something is bothering you.” You say as your fingertip swept gently beneath her eye, brushing away a fallen lash that had caught there. “You're never this quiet.”

She hums thoughtfully, the sound rumbling in her throat. Without a word, she moves the picnic basket out of the way, closing what little distance remained between you. Toph then eases down onto your lap. Her muscular arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she buries her face against your stomach.

The sudden need for physical closeness catches you completely off guard, sending a spike of concern through your chest.

Something was really troubling her, and you had no way of reaching whatever storm had drawn her so deeply inward.

“Just thinking,” Her voice emerges after a long moment, softened where it was muffled against the fabric of your shirt.

“About what?” You wondered aloud, encouraging her to keep going as you thread your fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp to ease her mind.

She attempted a shrug, but the movement was awkward against your lap. So she simply pressed her face deeper into your stomach, as if trying to burrow away from the sudden intensity of her own vulnerability.

“You, us, everything,” Toph mumbles, the words bleeding into the fabric of your shirt.

Your fingers faltered in her hair, freezing entirely as a sharp spike of anxiety hit your chest. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing bad,” She added quickly. Sensing the sudden, erratic leap of your pulse beneath her cheek, she knew you were already starting to spiral.

Toph pulled away just enough to turn, rolling over onto her back so her head remained comfortably rested in your lap. She stared blankly up at the vast, darkening sky, her fingers loosely curling around the hem of your shirt to keep you close.

“I just love you a lot,” Toph proclaims, her voice dropping into a low, almost inaudible whisper. “And sometimes I just wish-”

She grits her teeth, stopping herself mid-sentence. You can already feel her slipping away, the familiar metal walls slamming back up as she tries to bury whatever she was about to reveal.

Refusing to let her retreat, you tighten your fingers gently but firmly in her hair. Your other hand moves swiftly to curl around her jaw, tilting her head so she has no choice but to face you, her clouded eyes staring into yours earnestly.

You don't need to say a word. Every measured, unwavering thump of your heart revealed everything she needed to know. Through that shared pulse, and the gentleness of your touch. You promised her that she was entirely safe here. No matter what confession she voices in this secluded clearing, it would never change how you feel about her. In fact, her honesty would only make you love her more.

“I wish I could see you,” She finally settles on, the admission tearing out of her as tears begin to gather in her eyes. “Your smile, your eyes, even that tiny dimple in your cheek that pops out every time I kiss you, the one you always claim you don't have.”

“Because I don't!” You manage a soft laugh, though your heart aches for her, Your thumb soothingly traces a reassuring pattern across her cheek in hopes of calming the racing of her heart.

“You do, baby, I can feel it every single time,” Toph insists, her voice cracking slightly under the gravity of the moment.

“Whatever you say, Chief.” You relent affectionately, yielding the point this one time.

“Anyways,” Toph’s voice trailed off, the sudden swell of emotion catching painfully in her throat. She lifted her hand slowly, her fingers trembling faintly as they traced along the line of your jaw with a reverence that made your chest ache.

“What I’m trying to say is,” Her thumb drew circles across your cheek. “There are parts of you the rest of the world just gets to have.”

“They get to see you walking down the street, hear your laugh, watch the sun land on your face.” Her voice roughened with quiet longing. “And they don’t even realize how lucky they are to witness that.”

Toph swallowed hard before leaning closer, her forehead nearly resting against yours.

“It makes me jealous sometimes,” She stated. “Because you’re mine.” Her fingers curled gently against your skin. “And there are days I wish I could keep every single part of you all to myself.”

You remained motionless at first, completely caught off guard by the raw honesty in her voice. The confession settled heavily in your chest, so intimate and raw that for a moment all you could do was stare at her in stunned silence.

Then, slowly, you lifted your hand from her jaw and let your fingers glide gently along her skin until they found her unsteady hand resting against your cheek. You carefully intertwined your fingers with hers, giving them a soft, reassuring squeeze before guiding her palm fully against the side of your face.

You leaned into her touch without hesitation as you closed your eyes for a brief moment, silently encouraging her to feel every piece of you she longed for.

“Then let me show you,” You intoned, the words wrapped in certainty as you pressed her palm more firmly against your cheek. “Don’t look at me with the world’s eyes, Toph.”

Your expression softened beneath her touch. “Look at me the way you always have. With your hands and your heart.”

You slowly guide her index finger up to the smooth skin at the outer corner of your eyelid.

“If you could see my eyes,” You whispered tenderly, allowing her to feel the delicate flutter of your lashes against her fingertips, “You’d see a deep, radiant gold.”

A soft breath left you as you leaned further into her touch.

“Not the kind of metal you bend beneath your hands every day. Nothing cold or rigid.” Your voice softened into something almost dreamlike. “More like the liquid light of a setting sun spilling across the horizon.”

You kept her hand there, letting her map every delicate detail through touch alone.

“Think of them as a serene kind of comfort that always settles whenever they find you.” Your thumb swept lovingly across her knuckles. “And mirrored at their very center would be a sanctuary of amber fire, a steady, devoted flame that was kindled in the dark just to guide you home, burning only ever for you.”

You guided her hand downward, letting her fingertips wander along the elegant slope of your cheekbone before tracing the clean line of your jaw. You could feel the careful way she memorized every contour beneath her touch, as though she were sculpting your face inside her mind.

“My features carry that distinct grace the Fire Nation is known for,” You explain, guiding her palm to rest fully against your skin. “There’s refinement in the shape of them, sharp, deliberate lines softened by warmth.”

“My face is smooth beneath your hands, but there’s still strength in it. The kind your fingers would recognize immediately.” A faint smile touched your lips. “The striking edges of my nation shaped into something softer by the fire living inside me.”

You leaned further into her touch, your voice lowering into something achingly sincere. “But I want you to understand that it only burns this calmly because it reflects you.”

“Because when I look at you, baby. I don't just see the fierce warrior everyone else admires. I see a beautiful, intricate landscape, someone whose hidden softness is a treasure that I am lucky enough to hold.”

Toph’s breath hitches sharply at your words, the sudden depth of your confession striking a chord deep within her. Her fingers faltered faintly against your jaw as emotion tightened painfully in her throat, forcing her to swallow hard around it.

You could feel the realization settling over her in quiet waves- that you truly saw beyond the loud, unbreakable image she showed the rest of the world. Beyond the stubborn bravado, the sharpened edges, and strength she wielded like armor.

A silent tear slipped from her sightless eyes, tracing a slow path down her flushed skin as she melted fully into your embrace.

Your own chest tightened painfully beneath the sheer weight of the moment, emotion swelling so intensely inside you it nearly stole the breath from your lungs. And still, you refused to stop, she needed to hear this.

You needed her to understand that while the rest of the world only ever saw fleeting pieces of you- passing glimpses, surface-level beauty, and fragments they would never fully comprehend. Toph was the only person who had ever reached beyond all of that. She was the only one who truly held the keys to your soul.

Carefully, you move her finger along the edge of your eyelid, where the smooth texture of your skin changes slightly.

“And right here, I wore something special for you tonight,” You shared sweetly, guiding her fingertip along the elegant sweep lining your eye. “A delicate stroke of Fire Nation ink tracing the curve of it, meant to make the gold of my eyes stand out more boldly.”

“And above it, there’s a dusting of shimmer across my eyelids,” You added, your voice lowering beneath the hush of the clearing. “So fine it feels almost weightless beneath your fingertips, like the softest silk.”

The willow branches swayed gently overhead while you leaned further into her palm, savoring the careful way she explored every detail.

“To everyone else, it only catches the light for a fleeting second before it disappears.” Your voice wavered under the weight of your affection. “But tonight, it was meant for you. A private canvas made entirely for your touch.”

Toph’s tears fell completely unchecked now, tracing a hot, relentless path down her cheeks as she clung to every word leaving your lips. Even though there was a quiet ache blooming inside your own chest, you kept going.

Slowly, you gathered a thick section of your long hair into your free hand before carefully guiding her unsteady fingers through the silken strands. The dark locks slipped smoothly between her fingertips, cool and weightless against her skin as you let her explore them at her own pace.

“You always tell me it feels like water running through your hands,” You said with a small smile. “Long, soft, almost impossible to hold onto for too long.”

You guided another thick curl through her fingers, watching the strands spill between them like flowing silk.

“And when the sunlight touches it,” You impart quietly, “It catches along the waves in streaks of warm amber and burnished gold, as though pieces of the evening sun became tangled inside it.”

Your gaze softened as you wove her fingers through the curls once more. “Tonight, it falls in deep waves all the way down my back. They twist and wind around each other like a midnight breeze caught in motion.”

A gentle hum settled in your voice as you spoke. “It’s beautifully wild, but it always settles back against my shoulders in the end, waiting for your hands to card through it again.”

You guided her hand lower, letting her fingertips trace the elegant curve of your collarbone before drawing them slowly downward. Her touch ghosted over the softness of your chest, then along the warm plane of your stomach, until finally you settled her palm against the sweeping curve of your waist and hip.

“My body is softer than yours,” You tell her openly, your voice carrying no shame now, only devotion. “Not weak, just different. Warm in places where yours is carved from stone and muscle.”

You pressed her palm more firmly against your hip, letting her feel the seamless transition of your shape beneath her hand.

“My body is an expanse of soft, generous curves because you know how much I love to eat,” You explained with a quiet, playful warmth. “It flows effortlessly from one curve into the next, holding a full, rounded weight that belongs entirely to you.”

Your thumb traces slowly across her knuckles as you guided her touch along the slope of your hips.

“Imagine it like this, baby,” Your voice lowered into something rich and intimate beneath the willow trees. “The curve of my hips is shaped like the gentle incline of a quiet valley at dusk. Soft beneath your hands, but resting firm and certain beside you.”

You held her there for another lingering moment before speaking again.

“Every line of me was shaped by fire,” You revealed quietly, “But not the kind meant to destroy.” Your expression warmed as you were overcome by emotion. “Something steadier than that. A flame that offers warmth instead of ruin. One that only burns brighter whenever you’re near it.”

Toph’s breath shudders completely at the touch, her palm flattening against your skin as if trying to memorize every line of the map you are giving her. Her fingers flexed against the softness of your hip with sudden intensity, grounding herself in the overwhelming realization that you, this breathtaking, living person wrapped in warmth and firelight, belonged entirely to her in this hidden corner of the world.

Her chest rose rapidly as another wave of tears slipped free. The emotional weight of it all had stripped her completely bare. Even now, her hands shook faintly against your body while she fought to steady herself, biting down against her lower lip as though it were the only thing anchoring her to the moment.

And still, she leaned closer.

Now completely defenseless in your embrace and undone by the safety of your body pressed against hers and the impossible depth of love woven through every word you spoke.

You gave her a moment to breathe through it, your thumb brushing slowly across her knuckles while the jasmine of the willow branches wafted in the air. Then, with endless care, you guided her hand lower until her fingers settled around your wrist, where you pressed her thumb gently against a small patch of raised skin there.

“Right here on my wrist is a birthmark,” You stated, guiding her thumb along the delicate edge of the raised skin. “It’s small and uneven in shape, almost like a tiny island drifting alone on a map.”

A faint, nostalgic smile touched your lips. “My mother used to tell me it looked like hidden treasure waiting to be discovered whenever I asked about it as a child.”

You let her continue tracing it as you stared off into the distance, briefly losing yourself for a moment.

“It’s been there since the day I was born.” Your voice lowered slightly. “I usually hide it beneath makeup because I always thought it was ugly.”

The confession settled heavily in the air between you before you curled your fingers around hers.

“But I’m showing it to you now because I want you to know every part of me, baby.” There was this far off tone in your voice. “Even the pieces I still struggle to look at myself and the parts of me I’ve hidden away out of shame.”

Toph freezes at your words, her thumb lingering against the small patch of raised skin as though she could somehow feel every insecurity you had ever poured into it. A quiet breath caught painfully in her throat, the fragile confession settling deep within her chest.

Slowly, she lifted your wrist toward her lips.

Her movements were impossibly careful now, stripped of all her usual roughness, as though she were handling something sacred in her hands. The warmth of her breath fanned across your skin for a brief moment before she pressed the softest kiss directly against the birthmark.

You knew she wasnt doing this out of pity or kindness born from sympathy. Toph loved the way mountains endured storms, without hesitation or fear of the damage it might leave behind. She took this hidden piece of you, buried beneath years of shame and held it with the same reverence one might cradle a dying flame through winter. Beneath her touch, those wounded parts no longer felt ugly or burdensome.

It was as though she had pressed her hands into the deepest soil of your heart and found something living there still.

Toph hovered there for several long seconds, her lips resting against the hidden piece of you the world had never been allowed to touch. The moment felt ancient somehow, sacred in a way words could barely contain. Like the earth itself had shifted softly beneath you, recognizing the quiet miracle of being loved so wholly in the places you had once condemned.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead fell gently against your wrist, her shoulders shaking faintly beneath the gravity of what you were sharing.

“Don’t ever call this ugly again,” She said, her voice hardening with a protective edge. “You hear me? This is part of you. Which means it’s beautiful too.”

“And until you can see that for yourself,” Toph says, her voice faltering with fierce tenderness. “I'll love this part of you enough for the both of us.”

Your eyes slipped closed, an unsteady breath escaping your lips as the unfiltered truth of her words hit you with a force you weren't prepared for. Something that felt alot like sorrow climbed painfully into your throat, you felt the sting of tears threatening to spill over despite your efforts to keep them contained. But you forced it down, tonight was supposed to be entirely about her, about easing the burdens that she carries.

It was just, Toph has always possessed an uncanny ability to reverse the roles between you. No matter the circumstance, she somehow made sure that you felt seen, understood, and protected within the shelter of her love.

Even now, when all you wanted was to pour every ounce of your devotion into her, Toph had unconsciously turned the focus back toward you, prioritizing your heart with the same unyielding care she gave to everything she loved. You've never had a partner quite like her and the fact that she could reach the darkened places others couldn't made you feel deeply cherished, and incredibly whole.

Sucking in a labored breath to quell the fluttering in your chest, you finally lift her hand back up, letting her index finger follow the outline of your lips. You parted them just a fraction beneath her touch, letting her map their shape while you leaned into the heat of her palm.

“They’re soft,” Your lips grazed her fingers as you spoke. “Always a little warmer after kissing you. Tonight, I wore a glassy gloss over them that tastes like the sweet watermelon you always buy me from my favorite stand.”

You gently press her fingertip more firmly against your lower lip, letting her feel the slick texture there. “It almost feels liquid beneath your touch, doesn’t it? Like water reflecting moonlight.”

You smiled faintly at her as you gazed into her clouded eyes. “And I’m sure you can feel the way my lips are curved into a breathless smile. It's an expression meant only for you to feel in this space with me, baby.”

Toph's fingertip rested against the glossy curve of your mouth as though she were trying to memorize the feeling of your smile beneath her skin. The delicate hitch in your breathing did not escape her either. Through the constant pulse vibrating beneath your lips and fingertips, she could feel exactly how deeply her touch affected you too.

Her finger remained on your lower lip, languidly tracing the shape of your happiness as another tear slipped down her cheeks.

“I can feel it,” She voices, sniffling. “I can feel all of it. You’re gorgeous, baby. I love you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me. I would give anything to see your smile right now even if it was just for a moment.”

You gazed at her, your chest aching with an immense, all-encompassing warmth that makes your own eyes blur. Leaning forward, you brushed a kiss against her forehead before resting your brow against hers, allowing Toph to feel the soft rise and fall of your breath mingling with her own.

“You do see me, Toph,” You assure her, your voice unwavering and resolute. “In the only way that will ever matter to me.”

Toph's breath catches, her fingers tightening around your shirt as she pulls herself closer into your lap.

For several heartbeats, she remains entirely still, absorbing the distinct, soothing thump of your heart against her cheek. You watch as a small, watery chuckle breaks through her tears, and she burrows her face right back into your chest, clinging to you as if you were her sole sanctuary in the dark.

“Yeah,” She mutters, her voice thick but returning to that fiercely affectionate tone you love so much. “I guess I do.”

You leaned forward, closing the final distance between you before pressing your lips gently to hers. It was a kiss that held nothing back, a passionate exchange brimming with a love so deep it felt capable of rewriting the very essence of your soul. You poured every ounce of your adoration for Toph into the kiss, hoping that with each slow sweep of your tongue against hers, she could feel the unwavering constancy you knew you would carry for her always.

As the kiss deepened, Toph’s hands rose to the back of your neck, holding you there with quiet desperation. With her head still resting in your lap, the angle allowed you to kiss her more deeply, until the rest of the world seemed to disappear into the space between your breaths.

Her fingers threaded through your hair as she pulled you closer, pouring every fiercely protected fragment of her heart into your mouth. In your embrace, the hard edges she carried so carefully began to melt away, leaving behind the gaurded softness she trusted no one else to hold besides you.

As your lips continued to move with hers, the unwavering certainty of everything Toph had just shared settled deeply in your chest, soothing something profound and broken within you. A choked sob slipped from your throat, muffled softly by her lips as she kissed you more intensely, drinking in every ounce of your emotion without pause.

Toph knew.

She understood exactly what had unraveled inside you, and through the aching press of her lips and the grounded way she held you, she affirmed that she felt it too, that neither of you were alone in this, and somehow, in each others arms, you were going to be okay.

As the kiss gradually softened into something slower and more unhurried, your mouth finally curved into a wide smile. You were so hopelessly in love with this woman that it felt almost unreal. Your heart was unbearably full beneath the protective presence of her touch.

With her lips molded seamlessly to yours, you felt Toph’s mouth mirror your own, her smile soft and luminous in a way that made your heart thrum. She pulled away only a hair, barely sufficient to catch her air, her fingers still quivering faintly as they mapped along the curve of your face.

“See? Right there,” Toph mused, her thumb pressing affectionately into the small indentation beside your mouth. “You’re smiling right now, and your dimple’s there. I can feel it.”

You let out a boisterous laugh, tossing your head at her playful insistence. You tilt forward to press another kiss directly upon her cheek before resting your forehead once more to hers, a genuine solace settling over you.

“Fine, if you’re so sure it’s there, then it’s there.” You leaned into her touch, your teasing tone dropping to a quiet, fierce promise. “As long as you know that every single piece of me belongs to you, Toph.” Your hand rose to cover hers against your cheek. “Dimple and all.”

Toph let out a content sigh at your words. Still faintly glowing from the emotional day she'd had, she eased backward, sliding down until her back rested against the woolen blanket, pulling you down with her in the process.

You lay side by side in the quiet clearing, the echo of your heartfelt promise hanging in the air between you. Your shoulder pressed solidly against hers, your fingers laced securely together while your lips still tingled from the kiss you had just shared.

Toph rolls onto her side, pressing her cheek against your shoulder as she absorbs the cadenced pattern of your breathing.

“You know,” Toph spoke into the darkness, her voice lowering into something quiet and fiercely honest, heavy with years of unspoken longing. “I spent most of my life believing I was destined to be alone.”

A tightness seized her throat, forcing a brief pause before she could find her voice.

“I stood on the sidelines as every single one of my friends fell in love, got married, and built homes and families with the people they loved.” Her voice roughened faintly, cracking under the strain of a lifetime of quiet isolation. “After a while, I just assumed that kind of life belonged to everyone else, while I was meant to stay in the dark.”

Toph squeezes your hand with a sudden, desperate strength, her fingers wrapping around yours tight enough to bruise. She looked so vulnerable as she tried her best to anchor herself to the reality of your presence before the dread and that familiar solitude consumed her whole again.

“I wasn’t even sure what true love was supposed to feel like,” Toph admitted, the words wavering beneath the raw strain of finally exposing something she had buried for years. “Growing up locked away in that estate, hidden like some shameful secret, love always felt like a cage- suffocating, controlling, and completely isolating.”

Toph paused before continuing, and you drew her even closer, molding her frame against yours until she was completely enveloped by your protective embrace.

“It twisted the way I understood affection. Made me believe that being cared for required losing your freedom, and love meant being trapped somewhere dark and impossible to escape.” Toph sucked in a breath as she blinked away tears. “So when Katara used to talk of love- finding someone who makes the world feel lighter, safer, whole. I honestly thought it was just some impossible fairytale meant for other people.”

“I didn’t need my parents to tell me I was difficult to love,” Toph said, the words carrying the shadow of a truth she had known far too young. “I understood that from the second I was old enough to understand words.”

“Whenever I feel control slipping away from me, I build walls so high that nobody can get close enough to hurt me.” Her fingers flexed against yours. “After a while, I stopped believing anyone would care, or fight hard enough to break through all that stone just to reach me.”

“But then you came along,” Toph shifted closer, her voice trembling with an urgency that told you if she didn’t force these words out now, she would regret the silence for the rest of her life- and when it came to you, she refused to risk that.

“And you shattered every rule and expectation I thought the world had set for me.” A tremulous exhale left her. “You didn’t just look past the armor I built around myself. You made me want to tear it down with my own hands.”

“I never thought I’d find a partner like you, baby. Someone who makes me feel this adored and safe.” Emotion thickened her voice until each word sounded painfully sincere. “I love you so much it scares me sometimes, baby. I trust you with every single piece of me I have left that wasnt ruined by my life experiences or the world.”

“And one day, I’m going to marry you.” The words settled between you like an unspoken vow. “I know exactly how rare what we have is and I’m never letting you slip away from me.”

Your heart stops at her declaration, your entire body stilling as tears welled in your eyes now, completely ruining your makeup. Toph, who guards her independence like an absolute fortress, had just offered you her entire future with zero hesitation.

The realization that she is already choosing you for a lifetime causes your throat to tighten with a sudden, joyful ache as the sheer magnitude of her love completely rewires your world. You slide your arm beneath her, cradling her head closer against your chest so she can feel the deep, steady resonance of your voice when you spoke next.

“You were never destined to be alone, Toph,” You answered quietly, your voice filled with absolute conviction and a fierce protectiveness that wrapped itself around every word. “And you were never supposed to spend your life hidden behind walls or treated as something that needed to be tucked away.”

“It breaks my heart to know they ever made you feel difficult to love, because you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, baby.” Your heart thudded in your chest as your eyes burned with more tears. “The world just took its time bringing us together because like you said, a love like this, what we have right here is rare. Beautifully rare, and worth every lonely second it took to find.”

Toph buries her tear stained cheeks deep into the crook of your neck.

“You have me now, completely and entirely.” You promised her. “I’d marry you in a heartbeat, baby. I am yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

Her quiet sighs fanned over your bare skin as a tearful laugh escaped her. Her fingers gripped your shirt with a sudden intensity. Toph locked herself in your embrace as a glowing smile completely transformed her features.

You marveled at her in silence, overwhelmed by the breathtaking sight of her vulnerability. It was a beauty untouched by anything superficial, something visceral and enduring that eclipsed every shallow definition the world tried to force upon it.

Pride swelled painfully within your chest. You knew how much courage this had cost her, how terrifying it must have been to dismantle walls she had spent a lifetime building, and you would never take the gift of that trust for granted.

There was something truly sacred about watching her now with that unshielded expression softening her features beneath the sweeping canopy of willow branches. A few wild wisps of her midnight-dark hair caught the evening breeze, lifting like shadows against her skin. You realized right then that Toph Beifong was a masterpiece shaped equally by storm and stillness.

Toph was a woman powerful enough to shake the earth itself, and still she had chosen to soften within the safety of your arms. You made a silent vow to yourself in this darkened corner of the clearing to protect her fiercely and hold every vulnerable part of her soul for as long as she granted you a place by her side.

You tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear as you took in the beautiful flush spreading across her cheeks beneath the dim glow of the evening sky. You would never tire of seeing her like this, softened by vulnerability and wrapped so openly in your love. It made your own heart thrum in your chest.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and scattered a flurry of kisses across every inch of her face, each one tender with affection. The quiet clearing soon filled with Toph’s breathless laughter as she squirmed beneath your attention, giggling while she playfully shoved at your shoulders in a half-hearted attempt to make you stop.

“Baby, you keep talking about my smile,” A quiet, lovestruck grin pulled at your mouth. “When honestly, you’re the most beautiful thing in this entire park.”

Toph was caught entirely off guard by the compliment. She shied away from your touch, pulling back just enough to break the direct contact as she tried to salvage what was left of her composure.

“You’re laying on the compliments kinda thick,” Toph cleared her throat, you could see how fast her heart was beating in her chest as she spoke. “If I didn't know any better, I would think you were trying to get into my pants.”

You let out a knowing chuckle, your lips ghosting the shell of her ear as your arms tightened around her waist. Your voice dropped into a smooth, seductive murmur that was warm enough to send heat crawling beneath her skin.

“Well,” You husked softly, punctuating each word with a playful nip against the sensitive spot beneath her ear, “We both know if I really wanted to get into your pants, I wouldn’t need to sweet talk you first.”

Your smile deepened against her skin. “You’d just spread those gorgeous legs for me, wouldn’t you, baby?”

Toph hid her burning face in the crook of your neck, her breaths breaking into shaky, uneven hitches against your skin. You felt her nod quickly against your collarbone. You had rendered her speechless now that your voice had dropped into that devastating tone she could never resist.

“Good girl,” You purred beside her ear, your voice low and delivery, sending a flush of heat directly to her core.

Her reaction did not disappoint, a quiet, helpless moan escaped her lips before she could hide it, the noise dissolving into the stillness of the night as she buried herself further into your neck.

“Baby,” Toph breathed, the word breaking apart into a helpless whimper as her fingers clawed tightly into your shirt, clinging to you with quiet desperation.

“I know.” You cooed as your hands slid lower, mapping the graceful curve of her hip before your fingertips traced slow, deliberate patterns against her skin, each touch drawing another labored breath from her.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” You rasped into her ear. “I wanna take care of you properly.”

Toph didn’t need to be told twice. The charged energy between you shattered instantly as she shot upright so fast she nearly sent you sprawling backward onto the grass.

She immediately began scrambling to gather the abandoned picnic supplies, her movements rushed and completely lacking the usual composure she tried so hard to maintain. The urgency behind every motion revealed just how desperate she was to get you home.

You managed to stare at her for all of two seconds before completely losing it. Bright, helpless laughter burst from your chest, your head tipped back as the sound echoed freely through the secluded clearing.

Across from you, Toph was muttering a heated string of curses under her breath while aggressively trying and failing to force the picnic basket shut after stuffing everything inside with absolutely no organization whatsoever. Causing the basket to sprang back open, the contents nearly spilling out again.

“Spirits,” Toph snapped under her breath, shoving at the lid harder. “Why is this stupid thing fighting me right now?”

“Somewhere urgent you need to be, Chief?” You asked innocently as you rose to your feet beside her.

You reached down to help fold the blanket, your movements intentionally unhurried, giving yourself every excuse to admire the sight in front of you. Heat was practically radiating from Toph’s flushed skin in powerful waves, her cheeks now permanently stained a deep crimson while her hands fumbled helplessly with the basket for what had to be the fifth time

And spirits, she was breathtaking like this. So unraveled beneath your attention, all of her sharp composure and confidence completely stripped away before you had even truly touched her. You bit back another smile as her fingers slipped again, sending a pair of chopsticks clattering noisily back onto the grass.

“Baby,” Toph groaned under her breath, sounding one step away from combusting entirely under your heated gaze alone. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I dont think I will,” Your voice sinks into a dark, alluring tone as you invaded her space, crowding her with the intensity of your presence.

Your hand slid across her waist before settling possessively over the curve of her hip, drawing her body flush against yours with enough intent to force her breath to hitch in her throat.

“You’re already unraveling for me,” Your lips caressed the skin beside her jaw, your smirk evident in the low vibration of your voice. “And I’ve barely even touched you yet.”

You pressed a slow, deliberate kiss beneath her jaw, savoring the way her intake of air faltered the instant your lips sealed against the sensitive skin there.

“If I slid my hand into your pants right now,” You husked directly to her throat, your voice melting into a sultry hum. “Would I find you already wet for me?”

Your fingers continued their possessive map of her frame, sliding down her sides and spreading across her back until they found the slope of her backside. You palmed the plush curve of her ass, feeling the fullness of it as Toph molded herself into you. Because she stood shorter than you, her head nestled naturally against your chest, which only seemed to amplify the charged energy now that she was locked in your embrace.

“I think I would,” You added, your tone dripping with a smug confidence. “You get so worked up from the smallest things, baby.”

A deep chuckle vibrated in your throat, sending an intentional shiver straight down Toph's spine. “All I have to do is talk to you like this, and you melt for me.”

Toph tenses instantly, her face flushing a deep crimson as your fingers locate the sliver of bare skin where her shirt has ridden up. The moment your fingertips trace that exposed line, her entire body erupts in goosebumps.

Toph bites down hard on her lower lip to smother a rising moan as her entire body burns with an aching need. She pushes back slightly against your chest. She still has a reputation to uphold, and she knows that the longer this continues, the harder it will be for either of you to stop.

“Shut up,” Toph gasps, her voice strained as she shakes her head, trying to find her footing. “Baby, we are out in public! Anyone could walk by and see this.”

Before the conversation can continue, she reaches out and snaps her hand around your wrist. Her grip is firm, leaving no room for argument, as she begins to march away from the clearing, pulling you along with her, you barelt had time to grab your things.

“Since when has that ever stopped you before, Chief?” You counter, allowing yourself to be dragged along just so you could deliberately slow your steps to keep the tension.

Toph swallows thickly, her throat tightening hard as she struggles to maintain her brisk, commanding pace against the sheer weight of her arousal.

“Stop calling me that,” She mutters, her voice dropping into a breathless register that completely betrays her.

“Why?” You grin, your thumb stroking the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. “Is it turning you on, Chief?”

Toph pulls you forward with an urgent, unyielding strength until you finally reach the car. Snapping open the passenger door with her bending, she pauses for a single, breathless second, casting a fierce, burning glare blindly into the darkness where she knew you stood smug.

“You’re impossible,” She huffs, her voice a tight, husky friction before she slides into the seat with a frantic sort of haste, completely silent as she tries to master her own unraveling senses.

As you pulled out of the parking lot and eased onto the quiet road, the low hum of the engine settled warmly through the cabin. Streetlights flickered past the windows in soft golden streaks while the lingering tension from the park still clung thickly to the air between you.

One of your hands remained loose on the steering wheel while the other drifted instinctively onto Toph’s thigh. Your palm sank against the firm muscle above her knee, fingers curling there with slow familiarity as though they belonged nowhere else.

Toph’s entire posture locked instantly, a sharp gasp catching in her throat as her back pressed flush against the passenger seat. She didn’t pull away, but her thighs drew tighter together beneath your hand, the tension in her body almost palpable in the confined space of the car.

While seated at a red light you glanced over. Toph's fingers twisted helplessly into the fabric of her pants while her breathing turned uneven, every slow pass of your palm along her thigh sending another visible shiver through her.

The sight alone nearly ruined your composure. Your thumb dragged lazily over the tense muscle beneath your hand, relishing the way Toph’s lips parted around another strained breath.

“Don't,” She chokes out, though the words lack any real conviction, her voice entirely broken and vibrating with the heat of the moment. “You're going to get us killed out here.”

You only hum, your thumb torturously stroking higher up her leg, feeling the furious, erratic thumping of her pulse vibrating through the seat.

“Just lean back and enjoy the ride, baby.” You instructed, your eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead as you press down on the gas. “We're almost home.”

You were curled up on the sofa, a thin blanket draped over your shoulders. The glowing screen of your phone read 3:42 AM, casting a sharp blue light across the dark living room. You stared at the digits, feeling the crushing weight of the silence around you.

For three consecutive days, this has been your life. Waiting up into the exhausting, early hours of the morning for Toph, only for the familiar sound of her breathy grunts and harsh footsteps to never come. The only confirmation you had that your wife was even still alive was the phantom trail she left behind at dawn. Every morning you would wake up to the faint, bittersweet scent of her citrus soap lingering in the bedroom air.

Your chest ached again with that familiar, suffocating loneliness that you couldn’t seem to shake. The more you thought about the way both of your lives seemed to be changing, the more you felt a desperate, driving need to intervene to steady it all again.

A paralyzing fear trickled up in you the longer you were left alone with your thoughts. It was the sort of cold realization that had you wanting to step in before the distance between you grew so wide it couldn't be fixed.

It has only been three days, and your life already felt like it was completely falling apart. You couldn't even begin to imagine the state of your heart if you went weeks without seeing her, or months without hearing the sound of her voice.

You knew that if you let this continue, Toph would take your silence as permission to keep slipping away. She never asked how the distance felt, which was the quiet fault line running through your entire marriage. Toph always had a way of simply shifting the earth beneath your feet, and just expecting you to adjust your stance and fall into line with whatever rhythm she dictated.

But your vows weren't a contract of quiet compliance. Marriage was a lifelong commitment to protect one another, and you refused to sit back and quietly accept the self destructive stranger she was forcing herself to become.

You knew her patterns too well to believe this would just pass. If you didn't draw a boundary tonight, the cycle would repeat forever, because in her world, there would always be another cold case to bury her mind in, another crime to solve, or another suspect to chase into the dark.

You didn't care how long you had to stay up, or how tired you would be the next day. You wouldn't go another day without laying eyes on your wife and hearing the familiar rough sound of her voice. You were going to wait on this couch until that front door opened.

Since the moment you met Toph has always been fiercely independent. She despised clinginess, and she hated when people hovered over her. She tolerated it with you, but even then, you knew she had her limits. Her age had only hardened her exterior, making her more stubborn and grumpy as she threw herself into her work as if she were constantly trying to outrun the clock and catch up on time already lost.

It worried you, seeing just how much of herself was slowly eroding away at that police department. Toph had spent so much of her life giving everything to others and saving people, while completely neglecting herself and her own needs in the process. It made you terrified that beneath her gruff exterior that she may be harboring quiet regrets.

She simply wasn't as young as she was when she used to run around the world with the Avatar. You had just celebrated her fifty-fifth birthday a month ago, a milestone that brought her changing body into sharp focus.

Her hair was heavily laced with black and silver streaks now, a look that you thought refined her appearance beautifully. You absolutely loved the silver, even though she insisted on you dying it dark again. When you asked, Toph claimed she didn't want her officers to think less of her or see her as weak.

You recognized it as a deep seated insecurity that you couldn't fully relate to since you were considerably younger than her. So to protect her peace and avoid an argument you dyed her hair every few months.

You were just starting to nod off when the heavy front door finally clicked open, breaking the silence. Toph dragged her feet across the threshold, her shoulders hunched tightly under the crushing weight of her armor. At fifty five, the relentless strain of the job was visibly catching up to her.

She walked like her limbs were constantly aching. Toph was slower now, moving with a stiff, heavy exhaustion that was very hard to hide especially from you. She winced with every step she took into the home, it was a brief flash of vulnerability that she quickly masked before settling her expression into a hard line as if she hadn't meant for you to see. But you always noticed everything when it came to her. Over the years of your marriage you've memorized every hitch in her breath and every slight shift in her posture.

Toph didn't even bother using her metal bending to strip her armor which was telling, She just kicked her heavy metal boots loose with a miserable sigh that echoed through the dark room.

“You know, you could just tell me if you're starting to sleep walk Chief.” You say softly from the darkness, offering a gentle, tired smile. “I usually charge an admission fee for people trying to break into my house at four in the morning.”

Toph flinched slightly, her milky eyes turning toward the couch. “What are you still doing up?” She grumbled, her voice scratchy and thick with exhaustion. The joke went over her head like most things lately. “Go back to bed and it's our house.”

“Really? Because lately its been feeling less like a home and more like an empty hotel,” You said, tossing the blanket aside and standing up to face her. “I haven't seen my wife in seventy two hours, Toph. I am not going to bed.”

Toph’s jaw tightened, the stubborn lines around her mouth deepening in the dim blue light of the room. She felt the shift in your posture, the sudden hardness in your voice that told her you weren't backing down tonight. Instead of softening, her defensive walls immediately flew up, fueled by a toxic mix of physical pain and sheer exhaustion.

“Don't start with me,” She growled, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous register as she unbuckled her heavy metal breastplate with a harsh, metallic clatter. “I don't have the energy for a lecture right now so get off your high horse. I was running a sting operation on the Triple Threats down by the docks for thirty hours straight. I'm doing my job.”

“And what about your job here?” You asked, taking a step closer, your heart hammering against your ribs. “You slip in like a ghost in the early hours of the morning to shower while I'm sleep and then leave before the sun is even fully up. You aren't taking care of yourself, Toph. You haven't slept in days, and don't try to tell me you're resting at the office because I know you aren't. I can literally see the physical toll this is taking on your body. You're working yourself into an early grave, baby. Look at you. You're limping and you can barely move.”

“I am fine!” Toph snapped, her voice cracking in the quiet room as she spun on you, aiming her words to cut as deep as possible. “You think I don't know what's happening to my own damn body? You think I can't feel my joints grinding and my spine aching every single second of the day, knowing there is absolutely nothing I can do to change the fact that I am getting older?”

“I have to deal with enough shit at work all day. I don't need to come home to my wife coddling me, and keeping tabs on my hours like I'm incapable of figuring out my own life! You want a fragile little housewife who is home by dinner time and tucks you in at night before bed? Then go find one.”

She took a sharp breath, her sightless eyes flashing with a cold, defensive fury. “But I am the Chief of Police, and I have a duty to this city that I helped build. So if I have to stay at that precinct until dawn to keep the people that live here safe, then that's what I am going to do until my dying breath. If that's something you can't handle, then you should've thought about that before building a life with me.”

The harshness of her words sliced through the quiet room, leaving a ringing silence in their wake. You stiffened, staring at her as the raw cruelty of them hit you squarely in the chest, physically knocking the breath from your lungs. It felt like a sudden, violent eviction from her life as if all the years you had spent loving her, learning her rhythms, and holding down the fort and raising your kids meant absolutely nothing the moment you dared to care about her survival.

Tears burned like acid behind your eyelids, blurring the dark room, and you quickly tore your eyes away from her rigid form, realizing with a shattering certainty that she had genuinely wanted to hurt you and it had worked.

“Wanting to make sure your job doesn't take you away from me earlier than it's supposed to isn't coddling.” You said, your voice cracking into a fragile whisper as the first tear finally spilled over your lashes.

You choked back a ragged sob, pressing a hand flat against your chest to try and anchor a pain so sharp it made you physically ache. “You don't get to lash out at me and push me away just because you're terrified, Toph. This isn't about the city, and it isn't about me smothering you.”

“You are losing your mind because your body is changing and you cannot control it. You would rather bury yourself in work and actively destroy our marriage than admit that you are hurting, and that for the first time in your entire life, you can't just bend your way out of something. You are terrified that one day you won't be able to be Chief anymore, and you're scared that once that badge is gone, you won't have anything left- because you've let it become your entire life, your entire being, and the only identity you think you have left.”

Your voice dropped to a hollow whisper, heavy with the devastating weight of your devotion. “I am not saying this to hurt you, baby. But as your wife, I refuse to sit back in silence and watch you kill yourself for a city that will never love you back the way I do.”

“For the last three days I have bled my own heart dry keeping this home warm for a ghost,” You wept, with each word that spilled out from your lips you could feel another piece of your heart withering away. “And how dare you say I shouldn't have built a life with you just because I am the only person alive who dares to love you enough to try and save you from yourself.”

Toph stood entirely paralyzed in the dim light. Her chin, usually tilted up in fierce defiance, dropped as her chest barely rose and fell. Through the soles of her bare feet, she could feel the violent, trembling vibrations of your heart breaking right in front of her, and for the first time in her life, Toph Beifong had nothing left to say.

You turned your back on her, the movement sharp and heavy with a grief that nade it hard to breathe. You didn't wait for her response. You didn't want to hear another word that could fracture whatever was left of your dignity.

She didn't want your help, and she didnt want you.

Clutching the thin blanket tightly around your trembling shoulders like a shield, you walked away into the dark hallway, your bare feet paddling softly against the floorboards. Each step felt incredibly heavy, as if the suffocating weight of the apartment were pressing down directly onto your chest.

Walking away from her was the hardest thing you had ever done. Every single instinct in your body screamed at you to turn around, to pull her tightly into your arms, and to apologize just to stop the bleeding. You knew that leaving Toph alone in the dark meant abandoning her to the one thing she feared most: her own mind. Without you or the noise of a city to police or a fight to win, she would be left completely defenseless against the quiet terror of her own thoughts.

But as you sank against the closed bedroom door, pressing your palms hard against your mouth to stifle the ragged, broken breaths tearing from your throat, you knew you had no choice. You couldn't keep sacrificing your own soul just to keep her upright. Loving her meant refusing to become a casualty of her fear, even if the silence on the other side of that door felt loud enough to shatter you completely.

The distance that followed was a living, breathing entity that swallowed the apartment whole. When dawn finally broke, casting weak streaks of gray light across the guest bedroom floor, you didn't hear the familiar clatter of Toph dressing for work, nor did you hear her heavy footsteps heading toward the kitchen. She had probably left sometime last night after your argument, unable to be in the same home as you.

You sucked in a sharp breath, forcing yourself out of bed as the bleak reality of the morning settled in. You immediately checked the bathroom, but the air was entirely dry, there was no bittersweet scent of her soap lingering in the breeze, no damp towel thrown carelessly over the rack. Walking into the living area, the kitchen counter was completely untouched. The tea kettle sat cold and mocking on the stove.

She was really gone.

This wasn't like the previous times she's left. Now, Toph was intentionally burying herself at the precinct, actively using the endless chaos of Republic City as a shield to hide from the smoking wreckage of last night's argument. She was running away from her own mind, leaving you behind to drown in an agonizing silence that felt loud enough to splinter the very walls around you. Every single time the old floorboards creaked from the settling building, your heart violently leaped into your throat, foolishly hoping it was her, only to be instantly crushed by the stark reminder that you were completely alone.

This went on for a week, neither of you spoke a single word to each other. When Toph did return home every few days, you pretended to be asleep as she moved through the bedroom and grabbed a fresh change of clothes to take back to wherever she was staying. You always left her dinner wrapped in the fridge, and it was on the forth night that you smelled the aroma of the chicken you had made, heating up as she sat stiffly at the counter and ate for the first time in god knows when.

It was when Lin showed up at your studio on the seventh day if you and Toph not speaking that you knew this had become something far larger than you could contain.

You were right in the middle of a session with a client when the glass door of your studio swung open. Lin stepped inside, her metalbending uniform clinking sharply with every rigid stride, her jaw was set hard into an expression of pure frustration. The tension radiating off her was enough to make the client freeze in surprise.

Lin didn't care about the disruption, her sharp eyes locked onto yours immediately, making it crystal clear that she wasn't here on official police business, she was here as a deeply concerned daughter who had seen far too much over the last week to keep silent.

Your relationship with Lin had always been close. You had stepped into her and Toph’s world when Lin was just a tiny, fierce toddler, and you had raised her as your very own from that moment forward. You were the one who wiped her scraped knees, cheered the loudest during her metalbending training, and held her hand when the weight of the Beifong name became too much for a young girl to carry.

As she grew, you became her ultimate confidant- the safe harbor she ran to whenever she got completely overwhelmed by the Chief’s harsh, uncompromising nature at the precinct, or when her little sister, Su, managed to work her last nerve.

You knew every line of Lin's stubborn jaw, her favorite comfort meals, and exactly how to interpret the rigid set of her shoulders. So it wasn't surprising at all that she was standing here in your studio now. You had a feeling that if Toph wasn't sleeping at home she was likely crashing on Lin’s couch.

Lin didn't wait for you to make excuses. She took one look at the client sitting in your studio chair, adjusted the metal cuffs on her wrists, and stepped forward with her signature, no-nonsense scowl.

“Session's over,” Lin announced, her rough voice cutting through the room like a siren. “Police business. Grab your coat and get out.”

The client blinked in absolute shock, looking between her and you. It only took them a second to realize Lin wasn't giving them a choice, they frantically scrambled to gather their keys and bag, muttering a hasty goodbye before practically sprinting out the front door. The bell above the entrance jingled frantically, and then the shop door clicked shut, leaving only the two of you.

Lin watched the door close, her rigid shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch as the tough detective persona melted away. She turned to you, her jaw still set tight, but her sharp eyes were filled with a deep, familiar concern.

“She's been crashing on my couch for a week.” Lin said bluntly, confirming your exact suspicion. “And she is making my life an absolute living hell. Seriously, you have to take her back before I lose my mind.”

Lin threw her arms up in total frustration, pacing the floor as she began counting her grievances on her fingers.

“She completely took over my space, Ma. Yesterday, she got bored and used her earthbending to permanently alter my apartment, fusing my favorite iron skillet to the stove burner because she said the heat layout wasn't right and all her food was still cold, mind you it wasn't even turned on!”

“Then,” Lin exaggerated the word just so you knew how serious she was. “She decided my kitchen counters were too low to the ground and made for ants so she bent the foundations three inches higher and now my countertops are almost as tall as me.”

You snorted at the mental image, but your daughter scowled at you so fiercely that you quickly flashed her an apologetic look to smooth things over.

“But it's not just the property damage, Ma,” Lin continued, crossing her arms defensively. “She is completely intruding in my personal life. She’s been interrogating me about who I'm seeing because she claimed she caught the scent of a woman's perfume in my bedroom. She is entirely wrecking my privacy, treating my home like her private precinct, and she's driving me completely insane.”

If it were any other situation you would have laughed. This was Lin's classic reaction whenever she had to spend more than five minutes alone with her mother. But now, knowing that your marital issues were actively spilling over and affecting your kids only made you feel worse, a heavy wave of guilt washing over your already exhausted heart.

“She doesn't want anything to do with me, honey. I-I don't know what to tell you.” You admitted, your voice wavering as you looked down at your hands, unable to meet her gaze.

“You guys always fight,” Lin said as she blew out a long, frustrated breath. “What’s so different now?”

You shifted your weight around on your feet before walking towards your office to put some tea on. Lin followed right behind you, collapsing onto the sofa with a heavy sigh as you made the both of you some tea.

“Your mother is struggling, Lin,” You said softly, handing her a steaming mug. “And I can't say too much because I respect her privacy. But just know I tried to get her to slow down, get some rest, and she did not take it well.”

Lin held the warm mug between her calloused hands, staring down at the swirling amber liquid. The signature scowl she always wore seemed to melt away, leaving her looking remarkably like her mother for a fleeting second.

“She told me to leave her the hell alone when I asked why she was sleeping on my couch.” Lin murmured, her rough voice dropping into a quiet, tone. “She's been a nightmare at the office, too. Screaming at the cadets, burying herself in twenty year old cold cases and sting operations with special forces. I knew it had to be bad if she was running this hard.”

Your fingers tightened around your own mug, the ceramic radiating a heat that couldn't touch the cold ache inside you. Toph was suffering, and it was utterly destroying you to be locked out of her world when she spiraled like this.

“I haven't physically seen her in a week and it's-” A lump formed in your throat, cutting off your breath. You swallowed hard, but the tears finally won, blurring the sight of your daughter sitting across from you. “It's so hard, Lin. I love your mother so much that I don't even feel like myself anymore.”

Lin stared at you, the heavy metal plates of her uniform suddenly looking far too massive on her as her hardened expression completely fractured. Seeing you, the steady, loving rock of their family look so broken down by her mother's stubbornness was too much for even her. Lin hated seeing you cry or be anything less than your annoyingly happy self.

She set her tea mug down on the table with a sharp click. Without a word, Lin leaned across the sofa, reaching out to grab your hand, her rough palm squeezed yours with a reassuring strength that calmed the racing of your heart you knew she could hear. You looked away, mortified that you were having a breakdown in front of your daughter.

“Hey. Look at me,” Lin commanded softly, her own voice cracking just a fraction. “You are the best thing that ever happened to her. You know that, right? She’s a stubborn, miserable old bat who doesn't know how to handle the fact that she's not invincible anymore. But she loves you. She's just too damn proud and terrified to admit that you're right.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. Seeing her step into the role of protector for you made the raw ache in your chest soften just a bit. You watched as Lin reached into her belt pouch, the metal components of her uniform expanding as she pulled out a brass house key. She slid it across the table until it tapped against your tea mug.

“She knows she's wrong and she doesn't get to continue to hide out at my house just to avoid you,” Lin said, her expression shifting back into a determined, tactical scowl. “Take the key. She usually drags her miserable bones back to my place around nine to eat whatever scraps are left before heading out again. Go throw her off guard.”

You clutched the key tightly in your palm, feeling its cold, solid weight cut through your anxiety. Crossing the remaining space between you, you stepped forward and pulled Lin into one of those smothering motherly hugs. She didn't stiffen or become awkward like she usually did with others. Lin's rigid shoulders immediately relaxed, her armored arms wrapped around you just as tightly.

“I love you, Ma,” Lin whispered against your shoulder, her rough voice soft and laced with emotion.

Hearing those words made more tears spill from your eyes. It wasn't that you hadn't heard Lin say it before, but in this exact moment, you knew she felt just as terrible about how her mother was acting. She was standing with you, validating your pain, and reminding you that no matter how much the Chief pushed you away, you were still the heart of this family.

You gave her another tight squeeze before pulling away. “I love you too, Linny.”

—————ʕ·͡ˑ·ཻʔ︎ ——————ฅ՞••՞ฅ︎—————

Later that day you left your studio with a renewed sense of purpose. You stopped by a local market to gather some fresh ingredients for a dish you wanted to make. You couldn't bear the thought of Toph picking at cold leftovers on a lumpy couch, so you bought everything needed to cook her favorite comfort meal at Lin’s place.

Once inside Lin's apartment, the nervous energy took over completely. To distract your mind from the impending confrontation, you set to work anxiously cleaning the space. You scrubbed the countertops, washed the dishes rotting away the sink, and neatly folded the laundry and spare blanket tossed over the back of the sofa where Toph had been sleeping.

By the time 8:45 PM hit, the apartment was spotless, and the rich, savory aroma of dinner filled the home. You sat on the edge of the sofa, your fingers nervously tracing the fabric of your jeans as the minutes ticked closer to nine. Your palms were sweating and your heart hammered against your ribs at every distant sound from the hallway as you waited.

Just as Lin had predicted, the doorknob turned at 9:00 PM sharp, and the front door swung open with a familiar metallic creak. Toph dragged her feet across the threshold, her limbs moving with that stiff, aching exhaustion you knew all too well.

She looked terrible. In just a week deep, bruised bags had formed under her sightless eyes and her face appeared thinner and much paler than before. The deep crow's feet around her eyes were starkly prominent in the dim light, and her gray laced hair was messy, sliding completely out of the tight bun she normally forced it into while working at the precinct.

Toph froze mid-stride, her entire body locking up as if she had been struck. Her seismic sense instantly picking up the unique, unmistakable vibration of your heartbeat echoing through the floorboards. To make matters worse for her defenses, the rich, savory aroma of the comfort food you had just cooked was swirling thick through the air, entirely replacing the stale scent of Lin's apartment.

Toph stood in the threshold, one boot half kicked off. She tried to mask her expression with indifference but failed. You had already seen through the vulnerable cracks, and now there was no going back. The front door slammed harshly behind her, and she grunted in frustration, violently kicking her remaining shoe off against the wall.

“I gave you the house so you wouldn't have to be here.” Toph grunted, her voice cracking with an intense, raw bitterness.

You stood and walked towards her, narrowing the distance between you until you were standing inches apart. Toph didn’t flee. In fact, she subconsciously leaned into your comforting warmth- a sanctuary she had starved herself of for far too long.

“I don't want the house,” You whispered, your voice steady but thick with emotion. “I want you.”

You weren't an earthbender, so you couldn't simply bend the oppressive metal armor off her body. You did, however, know every inch of her uniform, including exactly where the emergency release buckles were hidden. Tentatively, you reached out and began unlatching them one by one. The metal plates felt cold and stiff in your hands, but the raw heat radiating from Toph’s body was undeniable as she let out a shaky sigh.

“I shouldn't have bombarded you the moment you walked through the door that night, and for that, I am truly sorry,” You mumbled, your fingers continuing their familiar, gentle work. “But what I will never apologize for is being terrified of losing you, or caring about your well-being. You can push me away all you want, but it won't change how much I love you.”

As the heavy breastplate finally unlatched and clattered to the floorboards, the fierce, untouchable woman you knew seemed to soften entirely. Toph’s shoulders slumped under the sudden release of weight, and she let out a long, shuddering breath, her defenses finally crumbling into the quiet room.

You gently took her calloused hand in yours, her fingers twitching slightly before wrapping tightly around your palm. Without a word, you led her over to the sofa. Toph didn’t resist, she let herself be guided, her usual fierce independence yielding entirely to her exhaustion.

“Lay down,” you whispered, patting the cushions. “Let me take care of you for once.”

Toph let out a low, defeated groan, but she finally complied, letting her large frame sink face down onto the couch. The moment her body hit the soft fabric, she let out a long, exasperated breath, her muscles beginning to slacken under your expert guidance. You sat on the edge of the cushions beside her and placed your hands on her bare shoulders, immediately feeling the rock hard knots of tension bunched up beneath her skin.

As your fingers began to deeply knead the sore muscles along her spine and shoulders, Toph let out a rare, contented rumble that sounded almost like a purr. The warmth of your hands seemed to melt away the last remnants of her stubbornness, leaving her completely relaxed and vulnerable under your touch.

But just as she began to drift into the quiet relief of the massage, you decided it was time to bring back the lively, spirited woman you loved. Shifting your weight, your fingers slid down her back and dug straight into her most secret, heavily guarded ticklish spots right along her ribs and sides. You hands moved feverishly, your hands sliding down her calves and ankles so you could tickle her toes.

Toph shrieked at the top of her lungs, her entire body violently twisting and squirming against the cushions as she tried to escape your treacherous fingers.

“Hey! What are you- stop it! Let go!” She wheezed, her rough voice cracking as she burst into loud, breathless, booming laughter. She blindly kicked her legs in the air, thrashing helplessly as her fiery spirit took over completely, the agonizing silence of the last week officially shattered by the beautiful sound of her joy.

You climbed onto her back and straddled her to keep her in place. You giggled, and for the first time in a week, your smile finally reached your eyes. You finally let up after she nearly flipped you over and tossed the both of you onto the floor. Even with her age, she was still significantly stronger than you, and if she really wanted to, she could have gotten you off her in a split second.

“You're so cute under all that brooding. I should've done this sooner,” You teased, your hands smoothing over her shoulders and the nape of her neck as you went back to massaging her.

Toph huffed, her head turned to the side as her eyes fluttered closed, completely surrendering to your touch. “I am not cute.”

“Sure you aren't, Chief,” You whispered affectionately, your thumbs leaning deep into the tight muscles of her upper back. “You're just my cute grumpy badger mole.”

With a sudden, explosive burst of remaining energy, Toph used all her years of combat training and twisted her body beneath you, using her powerful core to flip flat onto her back. Before you could even think about escaping, her hand shot out and grabbed your wrist with an iron grip, pulling you entirely off balance.

You let out a shrieking laugh as you tumbled forward, crashing right onto the sofa with her. Toph instantly locked her legs around yours, her muscular arms pinning you securely against her chest in an unbreakable hold that left you completely trapped beneath her weight.

“Oh, you think you're real funny, don't you?” Toph said, her chest heaving beneath you as she tried to catch her breath. Her cheeks were still heavily flushed from the laughing fit, and her silver streaked hair was a wild mess across the cushions.

You took a moment to look at her, really look at her and your heart constricted in your chest. You reached out and traced the beautiful silver paths woven through her dark hair, feeling a profound surge of adoration for the woman beneath you. Despite what Toph might think. The lines etched around her eyes and mouth weren't signs of weakness to you, they were proof of her fierce resilience, a map of a life spent fighting for others, and you had never loved her more than you did right now.

Toph’s smirk gradually softened as she felt the shift in your breathing and the steady, warm weight of your gaze on her face. Her sightless eyes blinked softly, and she reached up with a slightly trembling, calloused hand, her knuckles gently brushing against your cheek.

“What?” She wondered, her tone dropping into a quiet, almost self conscious whisper. “Why is your heart beating like you just ran a marathon?”

A rare, vulnerable shadow crossed her face. Her hand continued to map your softened features, tentatively brushing against your jawline, your nose and over your eyes. Her fingers trembled as she grounded herself in your touch, reading the lines of your face as if she could picture how you were looking at her.

You leaned down slightly, gently cupping her hand against your cheek, refusing to let her pull away.

“Because I am completely enamored with you, Toph Beifong,” You whispered, your voice thick with a reverence so profound it seemed to quiet the entire room. “I look at you right now, and it completely takes my breath away. You think you’re hiding a breaking body behind all that armor and paperwork but all I see is the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

Slowly, your fingers reached out and slid up from her jawline, your thumbs gently tracing the prominent crow's feet carved around her eyes. She shied away, a sudden twitch of self consciousness locking her posture as if she knew exactly what features you were focusing on, but you didn't let up. You held her face firmly but tenderly in your palms, refusing to let her withdraw into the dark again. She needed to know, down to her very bones, that your eyes didn't see her any differently than the day you fell in love with her.

“I love these lines,” You murmured, your touch as light as a feather over her skin, grounding her in the absolute safety of your gaze. “You hate them because you think they show your age, but to me, they are a map of your resilience. They are the beautiful marks of every single time you’ve smiled at me when the rest of the world wasn't looking. You trusted me with your heart, with the sacred duty to raise your family alongside you, and I promised you then what I am promising you right now.”

You leaned down further, pressing your forehead gently against hers, letting her feel the fierce, unshakeable depth of your devotion through the shared warmth of your skin.

“I am staying, Toph. Not out of some stupid obligation, and not because a marriage certificate says I have to. I am here because you, Lin, and Su all carry the very pieces of my soul. I gave my life to you three decades ago, and every single day since has been a gift. Without you, I could never be whole.”

You placed a kiss at the corners of her eyes. “And I know you're hurting so much, baby. It breaks my heart to think that you've been bearing this quiet, relentless weight all by yourself. That you've somehow convinced yourself that if you let me see the cracks in the stone, that if you're anything less than the untouchable force of nature the world expects you to be, that it would change the way I feel about you.”

“I want you to really hear me when I say this,” You pleaded, closing the final inch between you until your lips brushed against hers with every single word you spoke. “My love isn't conditional on your strength, Toph. Your changing body isn't a burden to me, it is a privilege to love, to protect, and to lift you up when the weight of this world becomes too much for even the strongest woman alive.”

A resonant, broken cry tore from Toph’s throat at your words, her fingers dug desperately into the fabric of your shirt as the final, tormenting walls of her isolation completely shattered. She pulled you down even more firmly against her chest, burying her face into your shoulder as she finally let go of the terrifying fear of losing herself, completely held by the realization that your love for her was entirely unconditional.

“I don't deserve you baby and I'm so sorry.” Toph’s voice was thick as her shoulders shook slightly as she clung to you.

“I was horrible to you,” She choked out, her rough voice cracking under the absolute weight of her remorse. “I said things I didn't mean and weaponized our love just to cut you down and push you away. Baby, I-..”

She couldn't even finish the thought as a broken, trembling breath escaped her lips. Toph tightened her embrace, burying her face even deeper against your neck as if she were trying to hide the raw, agonizing shame burning through her. Her fingers dug desperately into your shirt, her entire body shaking with the force of her regrets.

“I took the one sacred thing we built, the one place where I'm supposed to protect you, and I turned it into a weapon because I was too proud to admit that I'm breaking.” She whispered, her voice uncharacteristically small and entirely stripped of its usual bravado. “I wanted to hurt you before you could see how weak I felt. And the second you walked away, the guilt just completely swallowed me whole. I hate myself for what I did to you, sweetheart. I hate that I made you feel unloved or made you think I could ever live without you.”

You shook your head, the instinctive denial already spilling from your lips. “You didn't, baby, you could never. I was just worried-”

“No, don't downplay it,” Toph cut in, her tone dropping into a weighted register as her hands traveled up the expanse of your back, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. She missed being able to touch you like this so now she was making up for lost time. “I already feel bad enough.”

Toph tilted her head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to the exposed skin of your collarbone before moving up to trail her lips directly over your pulse point.

“Don't protect me from my own mistakes, sweetheart,” She said, her voice tight with raw conviction. “I know exactly how hard those words landed. I felt your heartbeat stutter through the floorboards when I said them. I felt you freeze. I took advantage of the fact that you love me just so I could build a wall high enough to hide behind, and there is no excuse for that.”

She shifted underneath you, her touch remarkably gentle as her calloused hands slid up to rest flat against your chest, right over your heart, as if she needed to physically feel the life she had nearly broken.

“I need you to let me say it. I need you to know that I feel the pain I caused, and I'm not going to let myself run away from it anymore. You shouldn't have to carry the burden of my pride. I am a stubborn, difficult woman, but I love you too much to ever let my fear become your cage again.”

“I hear you, baby,” You whispered, leaning down until your nose brushed against hers. “I hear you, and you're completely forgiven. No more hurting each other.”

A soft, relieved smile finally tugged at the corners of her lips. You leaned in the rest of the way, sealing the apology with a tender kiss that melted away the very last remnants of the horrible week.

Once you pulled away, the rich aroma of the dinner you had cooked finally caught her attention, causing her stomach to let out a loud, traitorous growl that completely shattered the intense moment. Toph blinked, her cheeks flushing a brand new shade of pink as she let out a rough chuckle before pecking your lips.

“Alright, all that sap got my stomach screaming, sweetheart,” She grumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. “And this couch is doing no favors for my spine. Hand over the food before I start eating the cushions.”

You laughed and climbed off top of her, wrapping your arms around her waist to help her up into a sitting position against the cushions. “I don't think Lin will appreciate that.”

“Yeah well, Lin owes me for snitching!” Toph scoffed, a sharp grin cutting through her exhaustion. “I know she’s the only reason you even knew where to look for me. The kid’s got a big mouth for someone with a badge.”

“Hey, don't go blaming our daughter,” You laughed, nudging her shoulder with your own as you set the warm pan between you both on the hardwood floorboards. “Honestly, Lin looked absolutely terrified that you were going to stay here permanently. She loves you don't get me wrong, but I'm sure she'll be glad to have her apartment back.”

Toph let out a loud snort, stabbing a piece of chicken with her fork before popping it into her mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” She grumbled, though the playful edge in her voice had completely melted into a relaxed drawl. “Let her have her precious apartment back. Between you and me, her taste in tea is terrible, and the silence in this place is way too loud anyway.”

She shifted closer to you on the hardwood floorboards, her shoulder pressing comfortably against your arm as she swallowed her food. A small mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, her sightless eyes softening as she leaned into your side.

“Besides, the kid needs to learn that she can't just evict me whenever she wants.” Toph added, her voice dropping into a quiet, warm chuckle. “But I guess if it gets me back into my own bed with my wife, I'll let her think she won this round. Just don't tell her though it'll go to her head.”

You rolled your eyes, that Beifong competitiveness always shining through. If you were completely honest with yourself, you wouldn't change a single thing about her.

“Deal,” You smiled, leaning over to press a soft kiss against her cheek, catching the warmth of her skin. “Your secret is perfectly safe with me. Let's finish up this food so we can finally go home.”

Toph hummed in agreement, her posture completely relaxed against yours as you both shared the rest of the meal right there on the floor.