#it helps you recognize it in yourself and normalize it

[yandere-romanticaa]

More yandere mortician? I miss our pookie

𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐞.

yandere! mortician oc! x fem! reader.

masterlist.

Despite it being the start of the warm month of May, this day was anything but.

Soft rain tapped against the window, giving the grey office a slight hint of a cozier ambience. Viktor was working and you had made the decision to stick around in his office, at least until the horrible weather had subsided.

As if on cue, a strong ray of thunder roared loudly in the sky, telling you everything that you needed to know - you were stuck here, possibly for the entire evening.

No matter. Despite his demeanor, Viktor was a decent source of entertainment.

And just like that you made your way down the metallic stairs, a slight pep in your step as you pondered on the various ideas on how to mess with your new friend. He once confessed on accident that he didn't mind your endless ramblings.

Now it was time to see just how true that statement was.

You heard him first before you saw him. Viktor liked to hum this one tune you never could recognize but judging from the pacing, it was most likely some old lullaby. He would hum it whenever he was lost deep in his head, which was the exact case right at this moment.

Slowing down your pace, you hid behind a wooden cabinet, silently watching Viktor. Despite his back being turned towards you, the scalpel in his hand still glimmered brightly underneath the dim office light. Soft strands of his jet black hair were loose in his messy low ponytail, which would typically make you swoon if the situation were any different.

You forgot just how awful the smell was down here. The stench of chemicals and death made you want to gag, but doing so would expose your presence. Although, you should have registered his sudden silence before that thought came to you.

"I know you're behind me." said Viktor. Even with that flat tone he had used, you could just tell that he had a proud little smirk on his face.

He raised his scalpel high in the air in a dramatic fashion, his own way of telling you to come to him.

"You're more than welcome to join me..." he spoke as he quickly but skillfully lowered the metallic tool, slicing deeply into the flesh of the now rotting corpse which lay on his table.

"... if you can stomach this."

Ugh. Not a lot of people could stomach such a sight but you felt brave at that moment. After composing all of the possible bravado you had in you, the walk towards Viktor did not feel as nauseating as you thought it would. But the moment you caught a glimpse of the fleshless face of the dead man before you, the instinct to turn your head was too much to handle.

Viktor couldn't help but to chuckle, the bastard.

Not knowing how to approach him with any topic of conversation, you asked him the first thing which came to mind:

"I often hear you sing that song to yourself when you work. What's it about?"

Viktor abruptly stopped with his slicing, his body going rigid. An uncomfortable silence fell upon the entire room, causing you to tense up. Before you could even think to say something, Viktor spoke up:

"It's an old song my mother used to sing to me when I was very young."

He continued with his work seemingly without a care, never once even bothering to glance in your direction. The awful squelching of the dead flesh made your blood pump wildly as Viktor continued to speak normally.

"I never realized just how morbid the song was until very recently." he said, slicing away at the dead man's cheekbone. You didn't even need to ask him about what he was talking about as Viktor was something of a mind reader (or so you liked to call him).

"... The song is about a little rabbit which got lost in a big forest."

Another piece of flesh gets discarded. Still, he doesn't look at you.

"It searches for food and water wherever it possibly can, the poor thing."

Out of the corner of your eye, your spot droplets of crimson blood on the floor, taunting you for coming down here. The smell is too powerful, too overbearing. Even so, Viktor continues to elaborate.

"Unfortunately, the rabbit doesn't survive the winter. It's a sad song, don't you agree?"

His words fell on deaf ears as your gaze traveled up and down the body, the skilled cuts and injections leaving you gasping for air. A warm hand made its way to your shoulder, snapping you out of the morbid daze. Viktor's gaze was sharp, but sweet. He wasn't going to hurt you.

"You can always just go back upstairs, if you can't handle it."

Another clap of thunder rang loudly in the background. The already dimmed light felt as though it was going to give in any moment now, making you feel anxious.

... You thought that you had gotten used to this, the atmosphere, the smells.

What a horrible reminder of your weakness.

Without a word, you turned around and quickly rushed up the scary looking stairs, their squeaking boards giving you an ever growing sensation of being free from the smell.

Viktor turned back to the body he was working on. With a tut, he cleaned his trusty scalpel as he gazed down at the bloody remains, his eyes sparkling with determination.

"It's a good thing I started with your face first." said the mortician.

"Otherwise, I fear she would have recognized you almost immediately."

And with that, Viktor set out to finish his horrific deed. He was not sure how much time he had left before you would start catching on to the mysterious disappearances around town but he thanked his lucky stars for all the extra time he could spend with you.

🥀 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince, @latolover, @samuraijack, @moyazami, @sunhareskies, @red-viewe, @kate03-27, @black-swan-blog27

If you wish to be tagged in future posts, feel free to say so!

Also, fun fact about the song Viktor was singing, it's not something I made up, it's an actual song my own mother often sang to me when I was a child.

#a quick little thing before I'm off to sleep #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere mortician #yandere mortician x reader #mortician #yandere viktor

[starnightlover]

I realized that I was obsessed with void state so much and that's why I was afraid of doing it. How can I let it go? How can I overcome this fear from the very beginning? I really want this. I'm getting ready to go in late, but suddenly I'm afraid I won't be able to do it and I'm procrastinating. How can I silence the fear inside me?

First of all, you need to realize that it's natural to be afraid of something that's new to you. Whenever we come across something that's different from what we're used to, it would trigger some kind of fear in us. So it's completely normal to feel scared when trying something new. Secondly, remember that you're not alone in this. Everyone has experienced fear and doubts at some point in their life, so it's okay to feel scared. Finally but most importantly, focus on the facts. Focus on why you want to achieve it.

To overcome your fear, you need to recognize where the fear is coming from. Is it a fear of the unknown? Fear of failure? Fear of success? Identify exactly where it is coming from. Then, remind yourself that you are safe and that you are god, pure consciousness, more powerful than any method, state, or power. Affirm that you are protected and that you are safe, if you need, it helped me when I would fear.

In regards to the void state, don't over think it. The key here is to let go of your worries and trust. Trust that your imagination is as real as anything else, and that when you go into the void state, you are actually in that pure void. Let go and trust the process. Don't worry about whether or not you are doing it correctly, or if you will succeed. Instead, focus on the realization that you are the pure consciousness you're seeking. Know that you are far more powerful than anything you're pursuing to help you 🖤

#anonymous asks #law of assumption #shifting #reality shifting #shiftblr #manifesting #neville goddard

[watermelinoe]

You're bi correct? Do you mind, when did you realize you were bisexual? Has it been easy or difficult for you?

i started questioning my sexuality when i hit puberty, around 12 or 13. the thing was that i was a pretty online kid. and i was unfortunately exposed to a lot of fetish content bc of my interest in webcomics (sites like topwebcomics didn't separate adult comics from general audience comics) and that made it really difficult for me to figure out if i was actually attracted to girls or just seeing other girls as sexual objects. the other thing was that i didn't really know you could be bisexual. i knew you could be gay. i read yuri manga and webcomics like "i was kidnapped by lesbian pirates from outer space" and i drew original female characters in lesbian relationships. but my impression of bisexuality came from maureen from rent and whatever was going on in rocky horror picture show. it seemed purely sexual.

i was really frustrated that i was sexually into girls but romantically interested in a boy. it was confusing because i knew i liked this boy, but with my girl friends we'd have sleepovers and we'd sleep in the same bed and i thought about what it would be like if we kissed, and meanwhile i didn't really think about kissing the boy i liked? i designated all of my female friendships as platonic, by the way. the kissing thoughts were just thought experiments, i guess. i tried dating a different boy who asked me out in middle school and it just felt embarrassing and burdensome and the intimate moments we had made me feel unclean. i just thought my feelings for boys and girls should be the same if i was really bi, and they weren't.

i think by high school though i was thinking of myself as bisexual. i didn't really ever have to come out to anyone that i remember. i was the only girl in my class with short hair who didn't wear makeup. some other girls were uncomfortable with me, i knew, especially when we had to change together in p.e. or choir or theater. my haircut was even a point of contention with the directors in one of my extracurriculars because every other girl in the performance had long hair and i ruined the homogeneity. i tried to grow my hair out my sophomore year and even wore contacts and mascara, i couldn't stand it and had it all cut off again before it even reached my halfway down my neck fjhgksfjdg

(as an aside i'm forever grateful that the trans social contagion was only a point on the horizon when i was k-12 bc my crossdressing ass might not have gone unscathed)

but as i touched on before, i really struggled to recognize when i was attracted to other girls. i would draw boys (or male celebs) that i found attractive, and that artistic motivation seemed obvious. meanwhile i had a close friend and i once named a piece after her because some drops of ink spilled on it and reminded me of her moles. we exchanged portraits of each other. yet i was oblivioussss i fumbled her so hard, i was dumb as hell.

it got difficult again when in college i discovered i don't want to look at or interact with dick in any way, and i had to reconcile that feeling and decide if i thought you could be penis-repulsed and bisexual (yes bc all forms of attraction count toward your sexuality)

tl;dr i probably realized when i hit puberty, the inconsistencies in my feelings really bothered me for a long time and the sense that i wasn't like other girls had me feeling alienated on some level, but i had some really strong female friendships and that helped me. the fact that randos can look at me and tell that i'm into other women makes me anxious abt their reactions and it frustrates me when people act like all bi women look straight. being bi is kinda difficult ngl but i am happier w my sexuality now than i've ever been

#answered #so there were other factors fucking with me but i think being bi can be confusing and difficult #i do think positive bi representation matters for little kids #same as being able to see gay people in loving relationships #it helps you recognize it in yourself and normalize it

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it would really benefit people to internalize that mental illnesses are often chronic and not acute. Some of us will never be able to jump the hurdle of managing illness, much less sustaining a sense of normalcy. Many of us will never "recover," will never manage symptoms, will never even come close to appearing normal - and this is for any condition, even the ones labeled as "simple" disorders or "easy-to-manage" disorders.

It isn't a failure if you cannot manage your symptoms. It isn't a moral failure, and you aren't an awful person. You are human. There's only so much you can do before recognizing that you cannot lift the world. Give yourself the space to be ill because, functionally, you are.

#mental health #mental health advocacy #like... anxiety and depression are often concieved of as simple and easy to manage... #...but that isn't the case for so many of us. anxiety and depression just have a lot more research invested into them... #...and while i wish this were the case for literally every other condition it does alter people's perception of you to some extent... #...so while this is NOT solely about anxiety or depression it includes us... #...my anxiety and depression and PTSD have *destroyed* my life. this is chronic and will probably be life-long... #...and that isn't my fault. i've done the fucking work but guess what? that doesn't account for the fact that I Am Just ILL #the least we can do for each other is to be compassionate #be compassionate to those who cannot heal. be compassionate to the people who can't manage their lives. this world is scary enough #recognize that management of symptoms is something not all of us can do - even IF their condition is labeled as 'easy to manage' #i allowed myself to feel angry that i can't heal 'normally' and that was unfair as fuck toward myself #and i NEED people to internalize this so that MAYBE this could help somebody else who is where i was #i NEED them to understand that it's okay that they are where they are - sometimes shit just doesn't turn out how you expect or want #don't beat yourself over you being a person. you are struggling enough. you deserve to rest. just rest please #and just... give yourself space

[lale-txt]

i know it's like an unwritten law in writer spaces not to throw away your WIPs and just return to them another time, but honestly i'm feeling such a relief after simply deleting roughly 20 pages of various drafts in my docs, knowing they'll never see the light again

#it wasn't an impulse decision! #i think it's normal to get stuck creativity wise and then it's on you to ask yourself what's helpful for YOU in this moment #and not fall into a loop of “oh i shouldn't” or “i must not” #just remember what works for you might not work for the next person and vice versa #i prefer starting over with a blank page instead of being stuck at 5k words which i start hating the more i reread them #it doesn't even feel like failure to me #throwing myself into a pit of misery and self-loathing would be #but recognizing what holds me back and finding a way to deal with it? nah #i genuinely love writing and i don't want to spend majority of my time doing so feeling miserable about it #lale.txt

[coffinsister]

Diagnosis are really just a descriptor word to chronicle behaviors on people that's why I give my blorbos my personal disorders !!!! :D

#diagnosis irl are used to opress people but that's not technically what they are you know #they are a way to describe behaviors on people they are utilized to opress disabled people and make their life a living hell #even if the behavior is normal during the currently living circumstances when analysed as it is it is given a name that it can be called and #recognized by and then you use that knowledge to help yourself #soleil shut up

[neverendingford]

.

#tag talk #tumblr university #I put my tumblr degree to good use again today. a kid at work talks a lot about exercise and said an offhand comment about fat people #the usual “why do fat people not control themselves better and eat less?” opinion. which like. he's a cool guy. curious and active and kind #so I did my best to not jump on it sjw-style and kind of go at it slowly but still explain that like. you can't just change your default #culturally we recognize that skinny people have genetics that predispose themselves to being thin. #but then when we (general culture) talk about fat people it's “why don't you exercise more and eat less?” “why don't you control yourself?” #there's a hypocritical shift in how people talk about it. #I was like bro.. I can sit around and do nothing all day and eat my normal amount and not gain weight. my whole family can. #so there's clearly something different between people who weigh 250lb and people who weigh 120lb. #anyway. he kinda nodded and mused over it and asked a few questions and like. idk. this is something I learned on tumblr so it was cool #I like sharing information I learned here. it changed how I view people and I'm honored to be able to make that change in other people #I've learnt to be kinder here and spreading it outside of the isolated tumblr bubble is very fulfilling. passing it forward yaknow? #anyway. I'm still mad about my speech impediment because I deadass still wish I could be a teacher in some way #like. I love teaching people things. evolving someone's ability to interact with information and ideas. #giving someone a set of tools and sitting back to see what they do with them. how they solve a problem. I love it. #and I just. ugh. I love the little moments when I get to teach something I've learned to someone else #OH OH OH! I saw a really good parent today! she brought her daughter up to the self checkout registers and I was like “can I help you?” #but the mom was like “no. I want her to learn how to be a big girl” and so they walked up to the register and the kid scanned her stuff and #and then navigated to the “pay now” button and paused and her mom was like “remember to take your time and read the screen” and the kid fou #found the “cash” button and then fed the five dollar bill in and got her receipt and change and. . that moment made me smile so fucking big #like.... the mom being like “take your time” and just.. being there to show her kid how to do an important life task. I wanted to cry. #I just. idk. stuff like that is beautiful. I love working with people so fucking much. #like. idk. I detach really easily so I don't always care about people and human suffering or all that stuff. but other times? #other times I'm both feet flat on the ground rooted into the heart of everything that makes us beautiful social creatures full of love #and it's so beautiful and I feel so fucking lucky to be allowed to watch that moment. #I just. all I can do is smile and hope that my eyes reflect the magic I just saw #also a hoard of small goth middle schoolers came through garden each with their own succulent. they were lead by an older teen. #it was just. idk. cool. funny. this little posse of piercings and bleached hair and nightmare before christmas merch and intense enby vibes #I always hope I represent a future to kids like that. big obvious scars. heavy queer vibes. and a life I'm obviously living.

[sttoru]

✸ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔: satoru unexpectedly comes back home to his family after being gone on a week long business trip. .

word count. 1.6k +

tags. girl dad!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, tiny bits of angst, overall sfw. reader gets called 'mama; pretty, sweetheart, baby'. satoru being a good husband and dad. your daughter is around 2-3 years old.

the apartment is silent, something you aren’t used to. normally, you would not catch a break from the loud voices ringing in your ears twenty-four seven. it’d either be your husband’s or your daughter’s. or if they’ve teamed up to bother you, it’d be both. it’s been so long since the three of you were together. way too long.

satoru has been gone on this business trip for a week now. seven days without him is seven days without your other half. you feel empty for some reason, even if you have your lovely child who makes every day much better. you just can’t help but worry about your husband.

“mama, look!” your toddler calls out from the living room. you blink and find yourself back in the kitchen, instead of deep within your thoughts. you faintly smile at the adorable voice of your daughter. it reminds you that you’re not alone.

you walk into the living space and look around before spotting the toddler at the window walls. she’s pulled the curtains to the side so she could admire the scenery outside of your cozy apartment. you watch her excitedly jump up and down—like she’s discovered a big treasure.

“it’s raining!” she continues, running towards you and dragging you along to watch the raindrops fall onto the windows. you nod at her observation and pick her up. you kiss her cheek and gaze into her blue eyes, “yeah, it is! you’re such a smart girl.”

“yaayy! smart!” she giggles and nuzzles her cheek against yours. you wholeheartedly accept the affection with a warm laugh of your own. you both watch as it pours—from your perspective, the people below you look like small creatures, running around to get inside. you get lost in thought again at the sight.

you can’t help but wonder if it’s also raining where Satoru is. you hope he’s taken shelter by now, even though you know his infinity could easily block any rain from wetting his clothes. you don’t know what it is, but you’re undoubtedly worried sick about your husband whenever he is gone for too long.

“mama!” your toddler gasps and tugs at your clothes. your dissociating ends for a second because of the child in your arms. you absentmindedly hum and pat her back, letting her know that you’ve heard her. you’re too focused on your own thoughts and the gloomy scenery outside to hear anything else.

“mama! mama!” your daughter continues. this time, she kicks her legs, desperately seeking your attention. you kiss her cheek in response, still zoning out. she squeaks and giggles due to something. when she squirms too much in your embrace, you figure that it’s because she wants to be let down.

you crouch and allow your daughter back on her feet. you’re finally able to notice how she keeps staring at something behind you. she’s grinning from ear to ear, her tiny hand still tugging at your sleeve like she’s trying to notify you of something. her other hand points at the space behind you, “papa!”

you freeze. you don’t know whether you should turn around or not. is she joking around with you?

you tilt your head, patting your daughter’s head tenderly, her white hair as soft and fluffy as the one who’s she called out to, “papa? papa’s working, baby.”

a familiar chuckle softly reverberates through the room. one so smooth and nice to the ears; one that you immediately recognize as your lover’s. you nearly snap your neck by how fast you turn your head.

it must be a dream, you conclude. you can’t believe what you’re seeing. there he is, the man you’ve been praying to see. he stands there so casually, as if he’s planned this all, his hands in his pockets.

your husband smiles at you and your daughter. he’s more than happy to be back home as well.

“well, hello to you too, sweetheart,” satoru snickers, seeing your shocked expression. you’re frozen in place and have no clue how to react. you did not expect to see him any time soon nor did you even hear him come back in the first place.

“papa!” your daughter can’t hold her excitement anymore and jumps into her father’s arms. satoru happily accepts her hug and peppers her face with kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

he twirls her around before squeezing her tiny body to his chest, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “mm. i missed you so much, baby girl. so so so much.”

you’re left somewhat processing the entire thing. you watch as satoru interacts with your toddler, tightly hugging her until she’s playfully whining about the lack of air.

he gives her a firm peck on her forehead and eventually puts her down, ruffling her hair affectionately, “you promised to be a good little girl for mama while i was gone, right?”

“yeah! been a rweaaally good girl f’ mama,” she nods repeatedly and clings onto satoru’s leg, awaiting praise for her good behavior. the white-haired man lets out a low chuckle and pinches her chubby cheeks in a gentle manner, “i knew my little girl wouldn’t let me down, heheh.”

you try to articulate some words, but nothing comes out. you take a step forward once you’re ready to face reality. your bottom lip trembles as the all the experienced emotions overwhelm you.

satoru instantly notices and smiles, opening his arms to welcome you into his embrace. which you immediately do.

“aww, there’s my pretty wife,” satoru sighs in relief, pleased to have the love of his life back in his strong arms. it’s like all the stress he’s felt throughout his seven-day long mission has evaporated. the same goes for the weary state his body was in before setting foot in your shared space.

the tears stream down your cheeks. they’re happy tears—tears of relief. all your worries are eliminated as your lover is now safe and sound before you.

satoru allows you to cry it out, not minding his clothes getting wet. your precious tears wetting his uniform is much better than the pouring rain doing so.

“it’s okay. ‘m here now,” satoru coos. he kisses the tip of your ear, moving down to your earlobe before showing your neck the same affection. his romantic touch is one you’ve missed greatly.

his big hands rub up and down your back, his lips trying to distract you from the tears. he moves to cup your face and leaves a warm kiss on your forehead, “you’re so precious. you did so well while i was gone, baby.”

satoru knows it must’ve been tough to take care of your daughter alone, whilst simultaneously taking care of all chores around the house. you’re the strongest woman he knows. his eyes sparkle with love as he wipes the tears from your cheeks, “there, there. .”

you sniff and cup satoru’s face this time, touching him like you’re making sure that he’s indeed real. You look around for any possible scratches but find none. luckily.

your voice is shaky as you speak up for the first time in a while, “welcome back, honey. i missed you s’much.”

your husband bites his lip at the sound of your voice cracks. your looks are captivating, even more when you’re so emotional. your beautiful eyes that glimmer with tears lure him in without fail. he’s longed for this. to see you and hold you again, without relying on some pictures on his phone.

he can’t hold back the urges within him any longer.

“c’mere,” satoru hisses, an unexpected switch in his tone. he suddenly pulls your body flush against his, his head lowering so his lips could crash down onto yours. your eyes widen at the abrupt gesture, but you quickly close them to fully enjoy the sensations. you hold him close to you while you return the kiss.

after a couple seconds, you both pull away, out of breath by the sudden moment of pure passion. the sorcerer grins and hugs you again. satoru rests his chin on top of your head and allows you to catch your breath, “i’m glad to be back.”

the soft pitter patter of the rain against the glass of the windows continues in the background. it’s a peaceful moment—two lovers reunited in their safe space. this is all you’ve wished for.

the sounds of wrappers falling to the floor and someone rummaging through plastic bags put an end to the sweet atmosphere between satoru and you. you both look to the side at the same time, only to find out that your daughter’s already been snacking on the goodies that satoru bought back from his trip.

the two of you burst out into laughter at the sight of the toddler munching on some chocolate, her cheeks as well as her hands being a complete mess. you were far too engrossed in your shared affection to notice that the little child has snuck off to inspect the bags on the coffee table.

“yummy!” your daughter exclaims once she notices that both her parents have caught her red handed. she reaches her arm out towards you, a half eaten piece of chocolate in her dirty little hand, “mama try.”

“no no, thank you. it’s all yours,” you giggle and shake your head. she’s too cute to scold and you can easily guess that satoru seems to agree with that statement. he walks over to the little girl and boops her nose lovingly.

“she’s got a sweet tooth jus’ like her papa, hm?” satoru comments light-heartedly. he grabs a nearby tissue and starts to clean the area around her cheeks, hoping to lessen the damage that’s already been done.

he truly missed this. the comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere.

“jus’ like papa!” your daughter innocently repeats after satoru as he cleans her up, causing the both of you to laugh again.

you’re happy to have your family back together.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jjk x you #gojo x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #female reader #jjk x female reader

[pastel-charm-14]

﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟprocrastination, begone!﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ

identify your triggers

what causes you to procrastinate? is it fear of failure, perfectionism, boredom, or overwhelm? recognize your triggers so you can address them head-on.

2. break it down

big tasks can feel overwhelming, leading to procrastination. break them down into smaller, manageable steps and tackle them one at a time. progress, no matter how small, is still progress!

3. set clear goals

define specific, achievable goals for yourself and set deadlines. having a clear target to work towards will keep you focused and motivated.

4. create a game plan

plan your day ahead of time and schedule dedicated blocks for tasks. set realistic timelines and hold yourself accountable to them.

5. eliminate distractions

identify distractions in your environment and take steps to minimize them. whether it's turning off notifications, finding a quiet workspace, or using website blockers, create a conducive environment for productivity.

6. use the pomodoro technique

break your work into intervals, typically 25 minutes of focused work followed by a 5 minute break. this technique can help increase focus and productivity while preventing burnout. (this really helps me personally!)

7. practice self-compassion

be kind to yourself when you slip up. we're all human, and occasional bouts of procrastination are normal. instead of dwelling on past procrastination, focus on what you can do right now to move forward.

8. find accountability

share your goals with a friend, family member, or coworker who can help keep you accountable. having someone to check in with can provide an extra boost of motivation.

9. reward yourself

celebrate your accomplishments, no matter how small. treat yourself to something you enjoy after completing a task or reaching a milestone. positive reinforcement can help reinforce productive habits.

#it girl #that girl #self care #self improvement #procrastination #i need to stop procrastinating #accountability #work life balance #self compassion #pomodoro #study inspiration #goals #motivation #life goals

[inupibaldspot]

Even 12 years laters,your soul was in a color of kindness.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : purely self indulgent which I wrote when I was drunk so— some stuffs are funky

Gojo first met you when you where four.

He was five years old at that time too and was being escorted by a maid to go to the clan head meeting; he assumes you were also part of a clan brought by elders.

Normally, the white haired boy never really cared for other people. Why should he? He is the chosen one. He has the limitless technique plus the six eyes of the Gojo clan. He was the closest thing to God at this age. But today it was different.

He watched you turn your head around and stare at him, he could vividly remember the way your eyes shone with amazement either for something as superficial like his white hair or the fact he was recognized as The ‘Gojo Satoru.’

But after that amazement, you smiled. You smiled at him so bright, with the evening glow of sunlights made you so—so ethereal. Your smile was childish and that’s why it was simply pure; the white haired kid’s eyes silhouetted with the sunlight shone with surprise for he found you beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.

Gojo looks away— he beat himself for looking away as that made him look standoffish. When he looks back, you were staring at him confused for why he didn’t greet you back.

The maid beside you turns and says something, as you nod and then walk away. Was it weird for Gojo to wish you would simply turn to him and introduce yourself? For years to come, he prayed that he’d love to hear your name; for your soul was in a color of kindness.

That chance came in twelve years later when he was a second year of his Jujutsu Tech. Him and his friends, Geto and Shoko wanted to meet the new first years. There is Nanami Kento, had a huge stick up his ass but that it self made him to be forever victim to Gojo’s pranks. Next was Haibara Yū, a bright eyed kid but Gojo found him to be a bit too— energetic for his taste.

And then you. I didn’t really need to describe Nanami and Haibara first because the first and only person he saw ever since he entered the first year’s classroom was you. Simply you. You sitting on the chair smiling bashfully at them. At him.

Ever since, every day. Without fail would rush to your side. At first you were confused as that is not the Gojo you remembered l; the one you saw and described to you by others were not this.

Nevertheless it warmed you up like a cool evening sun.

Gojo released quite early was you were kind, the type that would help others despite of her time , the type who would help every elderly by the street, the type who would feed strays and yada-yada-flowers and rainbows.

But that led to another realization. Had you truly different been treated differently?

Gojo's body tensed up. Any comfortable vibe he had felt before vanishing in an instant. He had known very well that you were a kind-hearted human being. Welcoming and warm. That made you so interesting. Your soul was so calm and simple and nice.

And even though he had observed you so closely before he wasn't able to recall any moment anymore where your own feelings had been obvious. You didn't stutter around boys.

You didn't blush. You didn't hesitate in a way which could be trailed back to her personal feelings.

Were you treating him like everyone else after all?

“Gojo?”

Your voice brought him back to sense, you were blinking curious, leaned close—so close.”what’s wrong?”

“Bring out your hand.” He smiles, as you did without question. “Guess the word I’m writing on your hand.” He smiles when the warmth from your hand soothe his nervous heartbeat.

“Eh—I’m not good at kanji!”

“That’s just too bad—!”

From then when ever Gojo feels anxious of everything—everything in this world he would play this game, with your fingers and her palm because his focus on you was more gravitating rather than that as you were simply too calming.

Geto felt slightly hesitant when he saw the type of Gojo he would become when he was by your side, he was a tad abit careless as if all of his six eyes were simply focused on you, he would be a tad bit kinder to the point Nanami gets the ick.

Where as Shoko had a blast!

She would make way towards you, give kisses on your cheeks gushing on how cute you were, wrapping her arms around you as she then sends a condescending look towards Gojo who was literally drowning in jealousy.

Shoko and you got close early on and more so because you two were the only two girls in those years. To the point where even a shy person like you was influenced to sneaking into a party with Shoko.

“Please don’t mess with my hair curler, Gojo.” You say as you look into the mirror, fixing your earring and from the corner of your eyes you could see Gojo holding up a lick of his hair into the hot iron.

Gojo peers over and immediately regrets it, you were in a short dress and high heel, hair curled so—cutely and boy, your face.

He looks away.

No, too cute.

He thought as he lets down the curling iron. Shoko peers out as she lets out a puff of smoke before passing it to Geto, who takes the cigarette in his hands. “Don’t tell me you want to come Gojo.” Shoko says. “I want a girls night.”

Gojo remember almost comically crying into his pillows as Geto nags him on ‘how woman don’t like clingy guys.’ He decides to forget Shoko and join you guys anyways.

He remembers being strangled by Shoko while you him a nervous smile trying to diffuse the situation.

Your nervous smile which made the world freeze to him, Geto sighs at the love sick look his white haired friend was giving you, who seemed so obvious to.

But don’t you remember when I said you were kind. You were kind like to help the cornered kid, the type who would volunteer to be with the loner kid, the type that picked Geto Suguru’s side.

Gojo sighs when when remembers Shoko saying you said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want Geto to be lonely along the path he takes…’

How stupid!

Gojo Satoru where ever he went would go around town mentally keeping sense of any cursed energy which could relay you back to him.

He meets you again though.

12 years later, while him and now—principle Yaga were walking along the hallways they sense a breach in security. He rushes over to first, see his once best-friend Geto Suguru by his current first year Okkotsu Yuta and secondly, you. Your eyes we’re nervously flying around before it lands on him and once again he was yours; Geto scoffs at the sight of Gojo’s expression when he was looking at you. He was almost worried that if you said ‘let’s join Geto’ with a plea—se, he just might. You just had that effect on Gojo.

But too bad, Geto was here to request war upon the Jujutsu Tech. On the 24 December, Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

Gojo rushes through curses as he makes his way towards you; and when he does, he feels as if he can’t breath. “Can you come back…?” He takes a step closer.

You smile nervously,shaking your head as you watch him take another step closer to you, you felt his hands reach out and cup your face. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the warmth radiate off him in the cold winter air. “Don’t kill me for doing this.” You we’re reminded that you guys were enemies and in a battlefield.

His face was closer now, his blue—beautiful blue eyes were slightly closed. You breath out. “I can’t kill you through your ‘Limitless’ Satoru…”

“Say it again.”

“Huh…?”

“My name. Satoru…”

You breath out. “Satoru…” The name you accidentally let out, felt so right.

“Fuck… say it a million time more, love.” Gojo laughs, slightly hoarse. “My limitless is never activated when I’m with you…”

before you realize his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, as you hands were tentatively placed on his chest, as his hand trails along to your waist you parts your lips for him, sighs in his mouth, and that small sound of pleasure drives him crazy, floods his body with heat and desire so intense the strongest sorcerer can hardly stand.

Your are pulled away from him, when a darker and tall man goes by. “Miguel!” Gojo listened to you say.

“I need you to focus.” The man says smiling, before he takes a stance to fight Gojo. And to Miguel credit, he does fend off Gojo well, so— well that he was ‘recruited’ by him.

The day ends with Gojo losing two of his best friends in different ways. Geto would be gone, into the afterlife ended by his own hands.

But you?

Where were you? Would he meet you again 12 years later? Love?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo fluff

[eilidh-eternal]

Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there’s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin. 

You need him.

You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.

Ghost.

“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.

“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”

“I can’t, I–”

“Ye’re open from two to close.”

“Book her. The full day.”

“What?!”

“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.

Well.

Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.

Fuck it.

You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.

You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.

“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I did.” 

Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.

“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.

“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”

There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.

“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?” 

What?

He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.

“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.

It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.

The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.

The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core. 

The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.

“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.

He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”

Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’

The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.

“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”

Why does he want to look at—?

The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.

“Okay…”

He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.

“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.

“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”

You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.

You have no idea what he sees in you.

He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries. 

The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.

“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.” 

It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.

“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.

“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor. 

“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.

“That so?”

“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”

“And Cap?”

“Who? Oh, you mean John?” 

“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”

“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–

“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.

“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.

Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.

Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”

You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.

“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.” 

Yes.

“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”

Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.

“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.

Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy. 

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.

“Rules?” 

“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.

“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink. 

“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”

It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.

“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.

“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?” 

The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon “ghost” riley #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #cod fanfic #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw #cod x reader #cod x you #dub con #cw self harm

[surftrips]

luke x daughter of aphrodite!! maybe a super cute fluff where they help luke show percy around and just their experience with percy!

-🥽 anon

stop this prompt is soo cute ! thanks for sending it in <3

"You okay?" Luke asked the newest camper in his cabin.

"Super."

"We all have them, you know." Luke clicked his tongue. "Intense, recurring nightmares. That's normal here. For the first time in your life, you're just like everyone else."

"So are you also... Do you not know who your..." the blonde boy began to ask.

"Am I unclaimed?" Luke shook his head. "No, Hermes is my father. That doesn't matter though, we're all on the same team here."

"Why is it okay they ignore some of us?"

"Spend too much time figuring out what the gods do whatever it is they do, you'll drive yourself crazy. Sooner you can stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer."

"And what's that?"

Luke smiled, guiding Percy out the door to show him the rest of camp.

The two boys ran into Clarisse and the Ares kids first. Luke explained to Percy that the Ares kids were always confrontational and brutally honest, but he had nothing to worry about, as long as he was around.

"Come on, let's go figure out what you're good at."

After crossing off archery and metalworking, and dodging several near death experiences, they sat down for lunch.

"Is there a Greek god of disappointment?" Percy sighed.

"We're gonna find the thing you're good at, I know it," Luke reassured him. "We should try-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Luke's eyes lit up and a smile crossed his face, causing Percy to turn around.

A girl came over to Luke's side of the table and kissed the top of his head. "Hi, love."

Luke beamed, turning toward Percy. "Y/N, this is Percy, I'm giving him the tour. Percy, Y/N. She's in Aphrodite."

That much he could tell, Percy thought she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen.

"Ah, bonjour! Comment ça va?" she asked him.

Percy looked confused, only recognizing the first part of the sentence. "Uhhh... hello?"

Y/N smiled softly, "Guess he's not in Aphrodite then. Any luck finding out your skill, Percy?"

"No, unforunately," Percy grumbled.

"Aw, don't worry. Soon enough you'll be like Luke here," she had moved to sit in his lap by now, one of his arms curled around her waist. "Did you know he's the best swordsman at camp?"

She looked at Luke proudly, Percy swore he saw hearts instead of pupils in her eyes.

"I think it's come up once or twice," Percy responded.

The Aphrodite girl smiled again, "Have you shown Percy the lake yet?" she asked Luke.

"No, not yet. Do you want to come with us?"

"You mean, do I want to show him the place where we met? Is that even a question?"

The trio finished up their food and headed back outside. Y/N led the way, her presence enough to clear a path in the group of campers idling outside. Luke and Percy followed a few feet behind her.

"So... how long have you two been...?" Percy asked shyly.

"Three years. Since we were 16," Luke responded. Though Percy had only known Luke for about a day at this point, he couldn't help but notice how Luke's entire demeanor had changed since Y/N's arrival.

"Oh, wow. That's a long time."

"I got really lucky."

"What do you mean?"

"Before I got here, I had nobody. I mean, there was Annabeth and Thalia, but they're like my sisters. Y/N was the one that showed me what love is."

"Is that what you meant earlier? About enjoying what this place has to offer?"

He smiled. "You might be surprised, Percy."

"Are you boys coming or not?" Y/N called back toward them.

"Yes, ma'am!" Luke yelled back, jogging up to where she was. They were almost at the lake by then.

"So, Percy, anyone at camp catch your eye yet?" Y/N asked, her hand wrapped around Luke's arm.

"Babe, he just got here." Luke said.

"So? I knew I liked you the second we met."

Luke blushed, caught off guard by her sincerity. That was one thing he wasn't sure he would ever get over, her ability to express her emotions so unabashedly. It was something he still struggled with from time to time, but for her, he would let down all of his walls.

"I wouldn't say I have a crush on her or anything- she kinda just scares me but she did catch my attention," Percy interrupted Luke's thoughts.

"What's her name?" Y/N asked.

"Annabeth, I think."

Y/N nodded knowingly, looking over at Luke. "Well, I guess we'll just see if anything special blooms there. Anyway, we're here!"

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon now, painting the sky in beautiful hues of purple and pink. A gentle breeze accompanied the three as they sat down by the water.

Y/N leaned against Luke's body, savoring the warmth he offered. He absent-mindedly twirled a piece of her hair.

"Three years ago, I was sitting right here, when I saw someone a few feet away from me. He was throwing rocks into the lake and disturbing my peace," Y/N began. "When I looked over to see who it was-"

"You saw the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on," Luke cut in.

"Hey!" Y/N playfulled smacked his shoulder. "I know you've heard this story one hundred times but Percy hasn't yet."

"Yeah, I haven't yet!" Percy backed her up.

The two older campers laughed. "Thank you, Percy. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, I saw this boy with curly dark hair and soft brown eyes, and I thought that's him. He's the one. This was before I was claimed by Aphrodite, but I just had a feeling, you know?"

Percy nodded, even though he wasn't sure he had experienced that feeling yet.

"But anyway, this boy looked kind of sad, so I decided to sit next to him."

"I think that's why he was throwing rocks into the water," Percy broke in.

Y/N giggled and Luke nudged her shoulder to continue.

"You're right, Percy, I had the same thought. When I sat next to him, I sensed that he was annoyed."

"Okay, love, let me finish from here." Luke softly kissed her shoulder and she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

"I wasn't annoyed-" he clarified. "At least, not at you. I had just been claimed by my father, but I was still frustrated with the whole idea of gods having children and just ignoring them. Then, this angel sat next to me and for the first time, I felt seen."

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend, her face full of nothing but admiration. No matter how many times she heard this part of the story, she still couldn't believe how she got quite so lucky.

"Percy, our parents may never redeem themselves for their wrongdoings, but I thank the gods every day they sent me Y/N." With that, Luke gently placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her.

"Hello! As lovely as this story is, still a minor here!" Percy waved his hand in front of their faces enthusiastically, causing all three of them to burst into laughter.

#🥽 anon #luke castellan prompt #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you

[nsharks]

can we see more of dad ghost ♥︎ im obsessedLMAO

“soft around the edges”

aka when ghost’s son runs up to him in front of the team (a little part 2 to this fic. part 3 here.)

Soap doesn't share the Lieutenant's secret with the rest of the force.

Things go back to normal after that brief, bizarre encounter with you. When their break is over, Ghost carries on the typical dry humor and sharp orders, pretending that Soap never had dinner at his cozy home and met his pregnant wife.

Though, MacTavish does notice little differences in his stoic superior turned new dad. Ghost is shockingly, and ever-so-slightly, nicer. His language is still foul. But he's a little less rough around the edges: compliments Soap a bit more, tells him to shut the fuck up a little bit less.

It's not something that any of the others notice, of course, which is why they are all so baffled when they finally do figure out about Ghost's secret family.

It's two years later when they are disbanding at a base in the UK that you accidentally reveal yourself.

It's truly an accident.

Whenever you pick him up from the military base, Simon instructs you to wait outside. Says he doesn't want to put you at any risk. But you have a knack for not listening to him. You missed him so much during the past four months, and the two-year-old in your arms was old enough to start asking where his dad was, so you figured you could wait for him inside this time, hidden away in a corner.

Your plan might have worked if it weren't for the swell of your belly making it difficult for you to hold the squirming toddler.

He recognizes his dad even with the skull mask on.

Immediately starts to yelp for him, kicking his little feet around, and giving you no choice but to set the toddler down for a second. But your son is growing so much, and he's got his father's determination.

It's definitely riveting for Soap and the team to witness the whole thing unfold.

At first sight, the waddling two-year-old boy doesn't faze them. There were usually family members and little ones waiting at the gate. Gaz and Price are saying their goodbyes when they both notice that the toddler running around is coming in their direction. Or more specifically, in Ghost's direction.

Soap knows right away what's happening.

Watches with raised brows.

For the rest of the team, this is the first time they witness Ghost's demeanor shift to something so soft and peculiar. His mannerisms give everything away before the kid even reaches him: a typically-unfazed Ghost looks around frantically, probably wondering how the hell his son even got here, until he spots you waddling sheepishly after him.

Oh, fuckin' hell.

You give your husband an apologetic look that says I'm sorry and help me at the same time.

“Can’t believe what I’m seeing," Gaz mutters, watching as Ghost bends down to pick up the small child.

Tell me 'bout it, Soap wants to say. But he's already gone through the initial disbelief two years ago, so now, he simply watches with knowing eyes.

He can't say he didn't spend some time the past two years wondering what kind of parents you and Ghost had become. He knew bits and pieces of his past and hesitantly wondered if Ghost had carried on that behavior.

But now he witnesses the Lieutenant scoop the toddler in his arms, making him look so small against his broad chest. “I’ve got ya, kid.” And he is tucking the boy's head underneath his chin and pressing his masked nose to the top of his hair.

Then, the toddler reaches a small hand to his mask and pats it, perhaps harder than he realizes, but Ghost simply shakes his head and patiently wraps his much larger hand around the curious little one’s.

Ghost is soft and gentle and anything but angry, even though you worried that he might have been.

Everything seems to sink in for the team when they see you finally reach your husband. Your mouth moving to rush out apologies:

"I'm sorry, Simon, I know you said to wait outside. We just really wanted to see you and I tried to hold him and-"

And Ghost might have been frustrated on another day. But on this day, he’s just relieved to see you again. It's apparent to all of the eyes watching that this brooding man, with his deadpan eyes and a trademark mask, is utterly and unabashedly in love with you and the little family you have gifted him. Finally able to fully relax as he wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your neck, something you could never imagine him doing in public like this a few years ago.

“S’okay, love,” he tells you. “Can’t be mad, can I? Not when I get to see you two.”

You’re carrying his second child and he hasn't seen you in months and he simply doesn't give a fuck at the moment.

To his team watching, the Lieutenant seems like another person.

They're watching Simon, not Ghost.

"That's his girl, then?" Alejandro finally asks, as they have been frozen in place. Watching in curiosity and bewilderment.

“Wife seems like,” Gaz says. Shooting Soap a curious look, he adds, “Did you know anything about this?”

“Hell,” Soap shrugs to feign innocence. “Didn’t know a thing-“

But, of course, you’re soon waving over at him and smiling before your husband can stop you. “Hi, Johnny!”

Guilty and caught, Soap offers a small wave in return before shaking his head. “Christ, alright. May have ran into them awhile back.”

“And you didn’t tell us, MacTavish?” Gaz scoffs.

“Not my secret to tell,” Soap shrugs again and watches as Ghost caresses your pregnant stomach. He leans down to whisper something in your ear and you smile coyly at him, planting a little kiss to the cheek of his hard mask. Ghost is somehow able to hold you and your son firmly against his chest and still have more room. Must be what had the two of you realizing that a fourth family member was needed.

Soap hears the snide remarks as your family leaves and is out of earshot.

Looks like Ghost keeps himself busy on leave.

You think he helps with the diapers?

The kid’s even got his eyes.

Reckon he takes the mask off during sex?

Finally, Soap groans out, “Haud yer wheesht. That’s enough.”

“Sergeant’s right,” Price, whose own surprise has faded into something more stern, quiets the members of the team who are still lingering. “That’s your superior you’re gosspin’ about. Show some respect and bugger off.”

But once the Captain is gone, Soap allows himself this one quip (because, he’d been so good at not sharing what he’d seen for two years).

It’s a quiet one that he mentions only to Kyle.

“He takes her shopping an’ carries all the bags. Saw it myself.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod #call of duty #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost #fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #fem!reader #dad ghost

[lixie-phoria]

summer sun forever (stray kids comforting their 9th member!reader)

pairing : platonic stray kids x fem!9th member reader

requested : yes

warnings - mentions of blood, description of poor parenting (lmk if i've missed any!)

genre - angst to comfort

jeongin thought it was normal, the way you would sit alone during group discussions giving your input only when asked directly.

seungmin though it was a habit, the way you would immediately pinch yourself if you made a mistake.

felix thought it was out of good nature that you would constantly appreciate his sunshine-like personality and inability to be mad for longer than a few moments.

han thought it was adorable, the way you would cover your smile while laughing at one of his jokes, trying to hold back any laugh that was louder than a giggle.

hyunjin thought it was just your strive for perfection that you would spend hours more than the other boys trying to perfect your choreographies, scared to mess up.

changbin thought it was a personal preference, the way you'd always dress up in lose clothing, rejecting anything that was too fitting.

lee know thought it was impressive, the way you could recognize any member just from his footsteps approaching your room or the way you always left one ear uncovered when using headphones.

but chan knew. or he thought he did, at least. maybe it was brotherly instincts kicking in, but he knew these habits weren't healthy. far from it. it concerned him, but he didn't know how to approach you either.

his concerns were triggered for the first time when you dropped a glass at the dorms, sharp shards scattering everywhere. you didn't notice him rush to help you as he stopped dead in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you pick up the broken pieces with bare hands. he saw the way your hands were trembling and how a particularly tricky piece sliced right through your skin, blood oozing out. you didn't even flinch, sparing the cut a small glance before you went back to cleaning the floor. you didn't bother trying to disinfect it, opting to only run it under the tap and wiping it away with a few tissues. then you crumpled them up, making sure the members wouldn't notice the red on the paper and went about your day as usual. chan waited, patiently, expecting you to bring up the injury to anyone, but you didn't, so he thought maybe it was just a small cut. maybe it was just a small wound, after all.

you would tell them if you were really hurt, right?

the second time chan notices something wrong is when you hit your upper arm at the edge of the table during dinner. it had hurt, that much he knew from the way you yelped and rubbed the sore spot. he had laughed at your clumsiness with the others as you smiled sheepishly, ducking your head and running away to your room to do who knows what. he thought he saw tears in your eyes, but you didn't mention the bruise again, so they all thought you were okay.

but chan's breaking point was when stays themselves noticed something was wrong. he was scrolling through instagram when a particular reel caught his attention. it was of their dance performance, and the fan had zoomed into your figure - specifically your upper arm - and the large reddish blue spot was so strikingly evident it took him three rewatches to make sure it was not an edit. how had any of them missed it? then another reel came up, and it was you wincing slightly as lee know jokingly shook your hand, the same one you had cut while cleaning the glass. and it's like the pieces immediately fall into place.

chan doesn't think twice. before he knows it he's out of his room and walking (more like storming) towards yours, and he doesn't bother knocking. but even then, you had been expecting him, because you're staring at the door with a small smile on your face.

"i heard you coming. is everything ok?"

it's the first time your keen observation skills concern him, but he doesn't answer, instead striding towards you and lifting your arm despite your complaints. when his eyes zero-in on the bruise that you had expertly been concealing, he sees red. he isn't sure why he's angry. it's not your fault. but he is mad, and he couldn't control it.

of course you could see it on his face, and it's like you go into auto pilot mode, snatching your arm back and immediately apologizing, making excuses that fly straight out of his ears. he tries to hold back, he really does, but he can't. and before he can stop, the damage is done.

"don't bother. you clearly don't trust us enough anymore."

in hindsight, that was probably the worst thing chan could have said to you. blaming you would only worsen things, but he's so confused and disappointed in himself. he didn't know what kept you on the edge so often, and it hurt him that you wouldn't open up.

and thus the apparent cold war began.

you weren't mad. no. far from that. you were terrified. you had disappointed chan, the one person who made you feel safe always. the one person you knew you could go to with anything. but you chose not to, and now maybe you never will be able to. and it was like you were a teenager again, crying yourself to sleep every night, cautious of every word you spoke, and jumping at the slightest raised voice.

chan wasn't mad either. he was confused. he was hurt, a little bit. and he regretted the words he had carelessly spat out. it clearly hadn't been the right approach and now it hurt him to see the way you would tense whenever he stepped into the room, not making eye-contact and apologizing profusely to everybody for the smallest mistakes.

he thought giving you space was the best option for now. but in hindsight, that was a terrible decision too. he didn't realize how angry he was coming off as. he didn't know that not just you but all the members thought he was giving you the silent treatment. and for you, that hit too close to home. literally.

"ynnie, do you want some more soup?"

felix is met with a timid yes as he happily pours you another serving. but even his bubbly smile couldn't diffuse the obvious tension in the atmosphere. the other 7 didn't know the details of what had happened. chan knew you would want to tell them yourself if you told them at all, but they knew it was bad. because now you barely smiled and chan always seemed tense.

"and salt?"

again, you only nod, reaching towards the jar he was offering, when it happens. all of a sudden. jeongin's arm brushes yours, and as his elbow pushes into your bruise, you yelp, the lid falling to the floor with a loud shattering sound.

the silence that follows immediately after is loud, and everyone notices the way you go completely still. unnaturally still, as though waiting for someone to yell at you. lee know recovers first, and as he bends down to pick up the fallen object, you flinch, and their hearts collectively shatter.

what was the matter with you lately?

before they know it, you're gulping the steaming hot soup down, hurriedly apologizing and making a bee line for your room. but this time, everyone can see the tears brimming your waterline.

nobody gets up, but nobody eats anymore either. the silence only intensifies until chan groans, burring his face in his hands.

"hey lix, you mind checking up on her? i don't think she's doing very well."

the blonde boy doesn't need to be told twice. he's making his way towards your room and when he enters, the floor slides from beneath him. you're curled up in your bed, trying to muffle your sobs that wrack through your body.

when you see him come in, your first instinct is to hide. to not show. but it's too late, because he's rushing towards you, embracing you in the warmest hug. its comforting, in a way you have never felt before, and that only spirals your break down further.

felix doesn't know what to do or say. he doesn't know what happened. he doesn't know what could make you feel better, but it's so incredibly heart breaking the way you curl up into yourself as though trying to reject any help that it brings tears into his own eyes.

it isn't long before the others come following, and when chan sees you it's like a part of him dies. you look so small, so hurt, so breakable. and deep down, he knows this could have been avoided if he'd thought twice before lashing out at you.

"yn."

his voice is soft, and when you notice him you're scrambling out of felix's grasp, and he almost thinks you're trying to get way from him. but then you're throwing yourself into his arms with apologies tumbling out along with your sobs. he tries to calm you down, running a hand through your hair, but you're inconsolable. they have never seen you cry like this before.

"calm down, angel. please. talk to me."

it's the first time chan has spoken to you in more than a week, and you hadn't realized how much you had missed it. how much his silence had been affecting you.

"please don't be mad at me." you whimper as chan guides you sit on your bed, the other 7 hovering around unsure of what to do but concern reflecting in each of their eyes.

"mad? i'm not mad, ynnie. i'm concerned."

his words come as a shock.

he's concerned?

"but i'm crying."

"that's exactly why i'm concerned."

"oh."

you've never heard these words before. you never thought you would. growing up, showing emotions was a big no. crying was almost a taboo. showing emotions was for the weak, as your parents would say. they didn't wish to raise a weak daughter. nobody ever showed you concern. it was either anger or silence.

you've run out of tears, but dry sobs still shake your body every few seconds as chan holds you closer, motioning for the rest to sit down.

"do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head. no. you were bad at talking about your feelings. they didn't have to know. it's not that important.

"you have to open up at some point, yn."

"i don't want to burden you guys."

"burden us?"

even seungmin, who usually stays expressionless during conflicts, seems appalled.

"yn, your emotions are not a burden."

"that's not what mum used to say."

you didn't mean to say it out loud, but it slips from your mouth and they all seem to have heard it.

chan's grip on you tightens. none of them knew much about your family. you didn't like talking about it. now it was slowly coming to them exactly why this preference could be.

"you can trust us, you know? we want to be there for you."

"i do trust you."

"then why won't you tell us what's wrong."

"don't want to annoy you any further."

the guilt gnaws at chan as felix pulls you away from his grasp, snuggling you into his side.

"yn, i wasn't mad. i was trying to give you space."

"i thought you were ignoring me." and in a smaller voice you reluctantly add "like my parents used to. everytime they were mad."

even han is somewhat misty eyed as felix runs calming circles against your upper arm.

"we would never give you the silent treatment."

"yeah! we love you way too much for that."

"is that why you're so closed off?"

"changbin! you can't just ask her that."

you giggle tiredly, earning a small smile from chan.

"it's alright. i'm glad you asked binnie. i think i'm ready to tell you guys."

they're all attentively waiting, and you shift uncomfortably. you never thought you would have this conversation.

"growing up, my parents didn't encourage me to express myself very much. i wasn't allowed to make mistakes, and if i did, they would give me the silent treatment for days on end. i hated it."

your voice is so small and fragile it breaks their hearts a little more.

"i've gone weeks trying to get my mother to speak to me normally. to act like she cared. but she'd always be so cold, insistent on punishing me for every little thing."

"and-" your voice broke, making hyunjin join felix in smothering you with cuddles.

"take your time, yn."

you hum, closing your eyes to stop the fresh wave of tears.

"and when chan stopped talking to me, i felt terrible. i thought i disappointed him too."

there was no more place, but chan joins the tangle of you, felix, and hyunjin as well, rubbing a soothing hand on your back.

"i'm so sorry i made you feel that way ynnie. i had no idea."

"it's not your fault," you admit, leaning into his chest.

"are we good now?"

"i hope so."

chan lets out that breathy laugh of his which you've grown to love over the years.

"don't ever hide your feelings from us, ynnie. you're a part of us. we don't want to see you hurting."

felix bops your nose as you smile, and it's all so corny and sweet, but it's also exactly what you need.

"now can we please have a movie night?"

"yah! jeongin. give her some time."

"no no, i'd actually love that. please?"

they're all ready to do whatever you want. it warms your heart and you almost cry again. nobody ever did this for you. you learned to think you didn't deserve it.

but here these 8 boys were, scrambling around trying to a build you a pillow fort and searching the shelves for snacks, yelling at each other across the house.

and as you're sitting there, you think that this could be your favorite site. they could be your favorite people. this could be your favorite memory. this feeling of being at home could be your favorite forever.

©lixie-phoria, 2023 taglist : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids 9th member #skz #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #skz 9th member #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #skz fanfic #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids comfort #skz comfort #stray kids x reader #kpop

[togenabi]

things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!

You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.

The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.

Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.

On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.

As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.

The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.

But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.

“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”

“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”

And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.

“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”

Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.

Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.

The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.

You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.

It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.

The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.

Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.

But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.

There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.

When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.

His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.

“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.

“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”

When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.

Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?

But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”

Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.

“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”

“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”

He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.

“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”

You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.

At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.

“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”

The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?

Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?

You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.

“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.

There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.

Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.

On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.

Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”

He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”

Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.

“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 

It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.

He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.

It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.

You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.

“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 

It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.

As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.

Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?

He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”

“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”

“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.

Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.

You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.

“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.

“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.

Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.

“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.

“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.

But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”

“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”

“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”

Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”

He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?

But your sister does. 

Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.

You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”

The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”

You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”

“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”

“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?

Chrysanth kicks you again.

“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”

Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.

“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”

She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.

Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”

Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?

The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.

Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.

“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.

Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 

He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.

“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.

There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”

“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”

You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.

As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.

After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.

He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”

“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.

“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.

Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.

“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”

“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”

“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.

“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 

“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”

“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.

Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”

“...”

He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.

But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.

“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 

Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”

He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.

“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”

The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.

“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 

It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.

“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”

The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.

“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”

When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 

“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.

“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.

Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”

“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”

“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”

A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”

“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.

“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”

“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.

But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.

“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.

“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 

It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.

“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 

Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.

The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.

You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.

As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.

The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.

“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.

Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”

“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.

“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.

“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.

“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 

What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.

“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.

Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.

Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 

All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.

Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.

“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”

You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.

She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.

You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.

You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.

She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.

“So, how are you and that chef doing?”

Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—

“August?” You blurt out.

Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—

“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”

“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”

“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”

“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”

Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:

All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.

“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”

Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”

Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?

“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”

“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 

“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”

“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?

“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.

“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.

“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”

‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’

You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”

“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”

You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.

“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”

“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”

“...”

“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”

“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”

When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”

That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”

He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.

Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.

“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”

Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 

“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.

“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.

Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 

Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.

There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.

“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”

You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.

“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.

“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”

“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.

“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.

“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”

The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 

Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.

You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.

It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 

You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 

Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.

‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.

The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.

After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.

You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.

You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.

“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”

“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 

August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.

It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 

But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.

“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.

You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.

August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 

Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”

You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.

“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.

The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.

“I would be honored.”

Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.

He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.

By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.

You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.

Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 

Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.

“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.

Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.

When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”

There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.

And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.

His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 

“I know, love.” He says.

“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 

“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.

“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 

“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 

Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.

“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.

“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”

With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.

You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 

You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.

“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”

Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.

That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.

…

Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.

Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.

Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.

That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.

It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.

Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.

Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 

But he won’t tell you that.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost

author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀

#vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji x reader #opla vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla spoilers #opla x reader #opla sanji x y/n #sanji oneshot #sanji imagine #opla #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x you #togenabi-sanji-02 #sanji au #vinsmoke sanji #sanji fic #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #op x reader #one piece sanji #togenabi-writes #opla royalty au #sanji royal chef au #opla au

[kkami-writes]

that hufflepuff boy

pairing. hufflepuff!felix x slytherin!fem!reader ft! hufflepuff!bangchan, slytherin!seungmin, ravenclaw!hyunjin synopsis. The moment you stepped into the halls of Hogwarts your classmates had deemed you as the princess of slytherin, a title you learned to hate. If only they knew that the cold, seemingly proper girl was absolutely head over heels for Hufflepuff's resident sunshine boy, Lee Felix. tags/cw. hogwarts!au, fluff, maybe some angst if you squint, lots and lots of mutual pining, acquaintances to lovers, side seungjin, smut, slight corruption, public sex (library), virgin!felix, oral (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (princess, love), unprotected sex (don't do it), swallowing of cum

disclaimer!!! both felix and reader are 18+, consenting adults at the time of smut. word count. 5k (5,155)

The first time you had met Felix is during third year, on a random spring morning as the two of you were paired up during potions. It had been a rough first three years for you as the nickname of Slytherin’s princess had been pushed upon you solely based on your parents' old-fashioned views. Even in this more progressive time, there were still a fair amount of pure-blood purists despite it being an unpopular stance after the second wizarding war.

Still, people had assumed you had thought the same as your parents and being sorted into slytherin hadn’t helped your case. Reluctantly, you instead fell into your role as the prim and proper princess they thought you were - no one had ever bothered to even ask if you could think for yourself or had your own opinions. Although you did have a few actual friends, the isolation you had felt from your peers had made you slightly bitter. 

So when you’re paired up with a random hufflepuff who gives you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, one that could easily rival the sun - you’re a little starstruck. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this and it easily makes your cheeks darken. He treats you like a normal person, as if you were already friends and it’s…refreshing to say the least. The last person you got partnered up with had sat as far away from you as they could and didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary. 

You’re surprised that you work well with the boy, him making small conversation and keeping you engaged in the potion work. Felix is nice, almost too nice, and you’re sure he’s like this with everyone but you still feel a surge of happiness when he laughs at one of your small jabs. You can’t help but think the sound is just as sweet as him. 

As class ends, you’re packing up your books and Felix waves goodbye to you with that pretty smile on display. 

“Bye! I hope we can talk again!” Then he’s gone and you’re left sitting there a little dazed as you stare at his retreating figure, something stirring in your chest that you’re not 100% sure of, but you do know one thing. 

And it’s that Felix is made up of sugar, everything nice and sun kissed freckles, and you’re pretty sure you’re fucked.

By fifth year you had fully recognized that the flowers blooming your chest was pure adoration for the hufflepuff. You had been sitting in the library with Seungmin, who was busy with his nose in a book and blatantly ignoring your obvious heart eyes towards a certain boy who sat not too far away at his own table; him and his quidditch captain Chan were probably going over some strategies for the upcoming game this weekend. Hyunjin was on your left, the ravenclaw busy with another one of his drawings he often did. 

You let out a small dreamy sigh, one that was barely audible but it was enough to have your fellow slytherin rolling his eyes and closing his book.  “Are you for real? You look so pathetic…how long have you been pining over that hufflepuff for?” He groans, throwing his head back. 

“Aw, I think it’s kinda cute,” Hyunjin chimes in, not looking up from his drawing.

“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,”

“Ok mister I read romance novels,” At this Seungmin’s ears tinge red and you think he might throw his book at the male. They thought you were annoying with your crush? They should look at themselves. With Seungmin thinking he was slick with his hidden gazes towards the ravenclaw or the many sketches Hyunjin had of the slytherin. 

“Can you two shut up? I’m busy pining over here,” They both roll their eyes at you now. 

“Honestly? I’m surprised he’s your type. I thought someone like Minho hyung was your type,”

“It’s because Felix is the only one willing to give yn any time of the day,” You swat at Hyunjin for that and he simply clutches his arm dramatically, whining your name. 

As you play fight with your friends (was it really playing though? The three of you were probably gonna get kicked out of the library soon), it goes unnoticed by you that someone else had been staring a little too long over at your table, his eyes sparkling as he watched you interact with the two who were usually never seen without you. He’s pulled from his thoughts as his own best friend and quidditch captain Chan nudged him from his tiny daydream. 

“You good mate? You've been staring at her for a while. We are supposed to be going over strategies,” He teases lightly as he watches Felix’s ears turn a little red. 

“Um, right. Sorry! I’ll focus, I promise,” Chan laughs, his signature dimples showing as he ruffles up the blonde’s hair.

“It’s fine, I should probably go study for my n.e.w.t.s anyway and we have practice tomorrow so we can go over more stuff,” Felix nods, agreeing with him before his gaze is once again glancing over towards you and it looks like you’re about to strangle Seungmin, while Hyunjin holds you back by your robes with a bored look on his face. He can’t help but laugh at your guy’s ministrations - he loved that you had slowly come out of your shell since third year and had found some good friends.

Well, at least he hoped they were just friends. He wouldn’t go as far to say the two of you were friends either, just acquaintances, mostly talking to each other in the halls when you passed by or occasionally partnering up during class. But Felix still did not have the guts to ask you out on a date, the fear of rejection controlling him. Chan is nudging him again and he’s pulled out of yet another daydream.

“Damn, you’ve got it bad huh? You’ve barely even talked to her for the last two years,” “Hey, that’s not true!! I say hi to her everytime I see her in the hall!”

“Uh huh. Why are you so interested in her anyway? Aren’t her parents blood-purists? I don’t think they’d approve of a muggleborn, no offense. And she is called the slytherin princess for a reason,” 

“Yeah but she’s not like that,” Felix is quick to defend you, not that he really thought Chan believed in those kinds of rumors - he was just curious about his crush.

“How do you know?” “Just- okay in third year, I remember everyone telling me to beware of the ‘slytherin princess’” he makes quotations with his fingers. “That she was cold and mean and definitely would not be nice to a muggleborn like me. But then we got partnered together during potions and she was really nice? And funny? I just thought you know, that she couldn’t be that bad. Plus! Seungmin and Hyunjin are both half-bloods, and they’re like her best friends. When we talk, just the two of us, she’s kinda shy to be honest. It’s cute and all but, when I see her like that,” Felix points to you, who is laughing hard at a joke Seungmin had said, both you and Hyunjin holding onto each other as you wheeze. The librarian shushes you loudly and gives the three of you yet another warning, only one away from getting kicked out. “When she’s alone with her friends she blossoms into this really bubbly and bright personality and I just - I want to be able to bring out that side of her when she’s with me. I wanna be able to get to know her more…you know…maybe ask her on a date,” He flushes at that and Chan lets out a low whistle that gets his own little hush from the librarian.

“Yeah, you are down atrocious my man. I think it’s time to put on your big boy pants. You should ask her out, after the hufflepuff vs slytherin game. After we win you can ask if she wants to go celebrate,” 

“Oh..that might be a good idea. She always comes to the games for Seungmin. But wait, what if we lose?” 

(Felix will later find out that you had only ever attended the Hufflepuff vs Slytherin games just so you could watch him, something Seungmin always complained and pouted about.  “I’M your best friend! You should be watching for me!! Not that stupid pretty Hufflepuff,” “So you admit he’s pretty?”

“I fucking hate you,” ) “Then you ask her if she’ll take you on a date so you can get over this horrific loss we have faced,”

“That…makes me sound like a loser,” Chan just shrugs. 

“Listen, if it gets you a date who cares,”

“Ok, yeah. You’re right. First, we’re gonna stomp Slytherin into the ground. And then- I’m gonna ask her out,”

Felix did not in fact put on his big boy pants on. While they had in fact won the game, he had frozen when you hopped over to him, a pretty smile on your face as you congratulated him on the win. His mind blanked, head empty as he just stared at how pretty you looked and how he wished he could give you his Hufflepuff scarf for you to wear. He wanted you to cheer for him during his quidditch games. He thinks you’d look breathtaking in yellow. 

But instead he said a quick ‘thanks!’ before running away, face completely red and leaving you behind with a small disappointed look on your face.

By seventh year, you were no closer to being over your infatuation with the pretty freckled Hufflepuff. Even though you had dated other people here and there, no one could compare to the way your heart reacted whenever you talked to Felix briefly in the halls. 

Still, you had slightly given up hope that the boy would reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, he had shown no signs of being into you - despite what Seungmin and Hyunjin had told you. You were still scared of rejection, that he wouldn’t be interested in a Slytherin like yourself, much less one still dubbed the princess of snakes. 

Yet Felix continued to treat you the same as always, greeting you in the hallways with that sweet smile of his and it never failed to put butterflies in your stomach. 

So when you’re paired up for a project in potions again, you can’t help the excitement that builds in your chest. It’s a more extensive project, requiring you to brew a particularly complex potion, needing to do research in the restricted section as well as write an essay. 

“Hey!” Felix greets you with that devastating smile and you pretend you’re not melting on the inside. His voice had gotten so deep and that blasted australian accent was constantly trying to make your knees buckle when you heard it. You can see Seungmin in your peripheral vision, pretending to gag over how pathetic you look face to face with your crush. Subtly you flip him off and you can hear his infectious laugh as he walks out of the classroom, probably off to find Hyunjin.

“Hi Felix,” 

“So, when are you free to work on the project?” “Honestly whenever you’re free, I know practice must keep you busy captain,” At the title his cheeks flush involuntarily, scratching his cheek shyly. Oh what you wouldn’t give to kiss his beautiful freckled cheeks.

“Yeah well, Seungmin has been keeping us on our toes. He’s always been good at strategy and as captain he’s really proved himself. But besides practice I'm pretty free too. We have practice on Wednesdays and Fridays. So we could do the project this weekend? If you want of course, we could pick another day if you want,” 

“Nope, this weekend sounds perfect,”

“Great, wanna meet at the library at one?” 

You nod and he gives you a small smile before bidding you goodbye. And that’s how you end up with a study date with one Lee Felix. (Neither of you had said the word date but you could dream and live in your delusions for a while. At least before Seungmin pulls you back down from the clouds.) 

Saturday comes much faster than you expect and you take almost half the morning preparing yourself - perhaps taking a little extra time on your makeup and hair. Of course you make sure not to go too overboard, just accentuating your features a little more, wanting to impress the way too pretty Hufflepuff. 

Even though you show up to the library ten minutes early, you’re surprised to find Felix already there with a book open and taking notes. When he looks up to see you his expression brightens up significantly, waving you over quickly. He’s rendered you speechless with a simple look and you can feel those annoying butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“Sorry did I keep you waiting? I thought I was early,” You say as you take a seat next to him, pulling out your own notes and potion textbook.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I uh- got here early to get us a spot next to the restricted section,” Your head nods in understanding as you bite back a laugh, the library practically empty due to it being a Saturday. 

After some brief small talk, the two of you get into researching the potion, taking extensive notes on how to properly brew the concoction without causing your cauldron to explode. It was a tricky potion, requiring absolute perfection in order to work. 

Somehow during your silent period of individual research, Felix had managed to scoot as close to you as possible, thighs pressed together and you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You can smell the hint of his floral cologne and the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck is overwhelming. 

The two of you stay like that for a while before you close your textbook, stretching out your arms and flexing your hands from writing too much. 

“Shall we check out the restricted section? I think i’ve read all that I can in our textbook,” 

“Yeah, same! This potion is gonna be a pain in the ass,”

“Tell me about it. I’m not exactly looking forward to actually brewing it,”

“Can’t be that bad, I’ll get to do it with you,” And there it is, those damn butterflies making another appearance. You flush before clearing your throat, moving towards the restricted section, having already gotten permission from your teacher and the librarian. Felix can’t help but find the blush on your cheeks beautiful.

The two of you moved to start to browse the new section, looking for specifics on the ingredients needed for the more intense potion that you would have to brew. Your eyes skim through the shelves, noting some of the more interesting books that you might have to take a closer look at later, specifically a fun book on jinxes that you could probably use against Seungmin who was always trying to create new spells to tease you with. And on the rare occasion the two of you would team up to bully Hyunjin instead, especially when he was bragging about acing a test he didn’t even bother studying for. It would have to wait for now as you spotted an old potioneering book that looked promising on the top shelf. Reaching for it, you cursed at how short you were - even standing on your tiptoes didn’t help as you extended your fingers as much as you could. 

Suddenly you can feel a firm chest pressed to your back and a hand resting on your hip, another hand coming to grab the book you were trying to get. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the close proximity of Felix, trying not to think about how his body feels as its pressed flush against your back or the grip on your hips as he steadies you. Slowly you turn around in his grasp, blinking up at him as he practically has you up against the bookcase, caging you in. Felix is also looking at you, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and the potion book in his hand.   It feels like you’ve been standing there forever, both of you just getting lost in each other's eyes and you wonder how many constellations you could draw against his freckles. The way you want to count just how many he has or if he had more in other places as well. Your eyes widen when the hand that was resting on your hip is suddenly moving up to cup your cheek and you wonder if he can see the way you flush under the dim lighting of the library. 

“Can I kiss you?” The deep timbre of his voice never fails to send shivers down your spine or heat into your stomach. You nod even though you really wanna say ‘hell yes’, you manage to hold back and not embarrass yourself, especially now when he’s asked something you’ve wanted to do since third year. 

His lips feel plush against your own, and you vaguely wonder if this was real. If Lee Felix was really here, kissing you sweet and softly like you were the most precious and delicate object in his hands. It’s a short simple kiss and you almost go to chase his lips when he pulls back, but you don’t have to worry as he doesn’t keep you waiting too long. He drops the book to be forgotten, as he brings his other hand to fully frame your face and kisses you square on the mouth. Your head tilts as he deepens the kiss, lips molding perfectly together. 

His tongue is swiping along the seam of your lips, asking for permission which you happily grant, tiers parting for him so he can lick at your own wet muscle. You can’t help the blissful sigh that falls from your lips and Felix all but eagerly swallows the noise, his pink tongue exploring every inch of you that he can. He has you fully pressed against the bookshelf now, your bodies slotted together, as if two puzzle pieces had been connected and you can start to feel something hard being pressed against your hips.

You can barely even focus on that with how dizzy the kiss is making you feel (though it’s possible it’s the lack of air as you’ve basically forgotten how to breathe). Teasingly you nip at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and he all but lets out a deep groan that makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. Eventually you both part for air, the two of you practically panting, lips slick with each other. You’re licking at your swollen lips, still able to taste him on your tongue as a thought pops into your head. You move to place your hands on Felix’s hips, maneuvering him so you’re the one who has him pressed against the bookshelf. He tilts his head and looks at you inquisitively, and you can’t help but coo at how cute he looks, especially with slightly reddened cheeks and completely kiss bitten lips. 

It’s only when you move down to your knees does he understand what you’re doing, him scrambling to try to pull you back up but you don’t budge. 

“A-ah! W-wait. What are you do-” He falters as he watches you glance up at him through your lashes, sweet innocent eyes looking up at him. Just the sight of you like this, looking so pretty on your knees for him makes his dick twitch in his pants, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 

You place your hands on his thighs, running them up until your fingers are playing with the zipper of his trousers and he watches as your tongue darts out to dampen your already slick lips. “Is this ok?” You question simply, watching as Felix’s resolve crumbles, nodding his head. 

With permission you’re quick to undo his pants, only pulling them down to expose his already hard cock. His dick is somehow pretty, yet it doesn’t surprise you - everything about the boy was just so pretty. You lean in to press small teasing kisses to his length, keeping eye contact with the Hufflepuff. Felix doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, so entranced by you. As much as you’d love to tease him, to build him up until he was begging for you - the two of you weren’t exactly in a private space, so you’d have to do it another time (god you hoped there would be another time). You part your lips to take the head into your mouth and it has Felix gasping already, his head falling back against the bookcase and his hands finding purchase in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck softly, his natural musky scent was mixing with the floral cologne he had put on and it was all so heady, making you slightly lightheaded. 

He’s completely lost in the way your mouth feels against his hard length, warm and wet, and he’s scared to finish too fast like some virgin (even though that’s exactly what he was). Yet he can’t stop you, blunt nails grasping at your silky locks as you blow him, eliciting a moan from you that vibrates against his cock. His bottom lip is between his teeth in an attempt to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping. 

Except when you’ve got his whole cock down your throat, choking on it slightly has a deep moan slipping from his lips. He’s looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and hazy with lust, the sight of you with your mouth absolutely stuffed with his cock has him twitching in your mouth. You can taste his salty precum in the back of your throat, desperate to see what his release will taste like. 

“Ah…fuck. Princess you look so pretty like this…’m gonna cum,” He grunts softly and he can’t help the small buck of his hips into your mouth.

You definitely weren’t expecting the nickname, but you found yourself liking it MUCH more when it was coming from Felix. You open your mouth with your tongue lolling out when he tells you he’s close, blinking up at him and he gets the message. He releases your hair to bring his hand to his cock, stroking it once, twice - before he’s coming thick ropes into your mouth. You patiently wait for him to finish before you’re swallowing his load and you definitely don’t miss the way he groans just from watching you do that. A giggle falls from your lips as you come to stand up and he’s quick to kiss you again, moaning from tasting himself against your swollen tiers. 

He’s tucking himself back into his pants but not bothering to redo his pants before he’s once again moving you so he can press you against the bookshelf. It’s your turn to tilt your head in questioning as he moves to kneel down, hands running up your upper thighs until they’re disappearing under your skirt. He loops his fingers into your panties as he looks up at you.

“Can I?” He asks and his eyes are still dark with arousal, completely gone at this point. You nod far too eagerly and he chuckles deeply at how excited you look, slowly dragging your (damp) underwear down, having you step out of them. He slips them into his back pocket with a smirk. 

“You’re not getting these back,” 

Your mouth is wide with his bold words, wondering where the shy Felix has gone. You don’t really have much time to think more about it before he’s diving under your skirt and attaching his mouth to your wet cunt, a hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves your lips involuntarily. He laps at your core, moaning against you at your taste and the vibrations only aid in your pleasure. You can’t even see him with your skirt completely covering him but you can’t find it in you to even care, the way his tongue is flicking at your clit has you whimpering. His hands are gripping at your hips tightly and you hope that he leaves a mark, a memory of this moment you shared with him.

He has you all but clenching around nothing as his lips suck on your sensitive bud and your back is arching off the bookshelf and your head is thrown back. Soft moans spill from your lips and the sounds go straight to his dick, feeling himself hardening again in his pants. It doesn’t matter though as his focus is on you and he so badly wants you to cum against his tongue. Felix easily slips two fingers into your heat with how slick you are and you let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He’s a little clumsy with them but you’re too far gone to really care, feeling your thighs start to shake and that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach. 

“Lix- Lixie. I’m close,” You manage to mumble out, not knowing how much longer you are gonna last, especially with how his skillful tongue continues to work you to your high. With your words he’s once again latching onto your clit with his lips, sucking eagerly and his fingers pushing into you faster. He hums against your core and you’re gone, your rather loud moan muffled by your hand as you’re coming against his face. Felix doesn’t stop lapping at your pussy until you have to push him away, feeling sensitivity starting to build. 

When he comes back up he has to hold you up, your legs shaking slightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. He’s quick to have his lips on yours again and you can taste yourself against his tongue. He can tell he’s going to quickly become absolutely addicted to kissing you, your lips so soft against his own. Felix is pressing against you and you can feel that he’s hard again, so you reluctantly pull away to call out to him. 

“Felix,” You start, suddenly feeling shy even though you literally just had his dick in your mouth. 

“Yes love?” It really feels like he’s trying to kill you with these nicknames but you push through, letting your hips rock against his and he’s biting at his lip hard to stop himself from moaning. 

“I want you. So bad. . .need you inside me,” 

He seems a little hesitant but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches just at the thought of being buried inside you. How warm and tight you’d feel against his length.

“Are- Are you sure?” You nod. You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.

“Yes. I-If it’s okay with you,” Still you stress this point, not wanting to pressure him but you’d be lying if you weren’t still absolutely soaked for the boy in front of you. 

“How can I say no to you?” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before slowly turning you around to have you bent forward slightly. You grab onto the bookshelf to ground yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you feel him grinding his clothed cock against your core. You’re about to open your mouth to beg him to stop teasing you but then you feel his tip pressing against your entrance and all thoughts are flying out of your head. Felix is gripping you tightly by the waist and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly he pushes in. You can feel every single inch until he’s completely sheathed in your warmth and the groan he lets out fills your belly with straight heat.

“F-fuck. So good, you feel so good princess,” He groans, his breath heavy as he shakily pulls out just enough so he can easily slide back in, setting a slightly uneven pace but it feels so good that you don’t even care. All you can think about is Felix, the way his hands feel against your skin, how sweet he sounds as he murmurs praises against your ear, the way his cock fills you so nicely - your head is so blissfully empty besides the Hufflepuff and you love it. He angles himself upwards, finding your sweet spot so easily and you clench around him the moment he hits it.

His hips rock languidly into you as he flips your skirt up so he can see the way his cock disappears into your soaked cunt. Felix is so entranced at the way your arousal clings to his length, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs and it makes it so much easier to thrust into you. He knows he’s not gonna last very long so he grabs you to pull you flush against his chest, holding you to him as a hand wraps to your front, two fingers rubbing at your clit.

“Lix! Oh- Oh…’m close,” You mumble out, gasping as he holds you against his body, your hips trying to meet his thrusts. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum princess? Need you to cum all over my cock. Can you do that love?” He hums into your ear and his voice has you absolutely gone, Felix purposely making it just a little bit deeper. The way his cock is pressing against your gummy g-spot has you seeing stars. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re shuddering and coming, your walls spasming around Felix which has him reaching his own orgasm - spilling into you with his warm seed. Both of you are panting hard with you holding onto the bookshelf as if it was your last lifeline, practically the only thing keeping you up with how shaky your knees are. 

When he pulls out you whine a little, feeling his cum leaking down your thighs. He watches for a second, seeing his own release dripping from your pussy has a surge of pride filling his chest. After a second he pulls out his wand, muttering a quick spell that cleans you up, thankful that charms had been his best class. You need a bit longer to collect yourself, your head slightly fuzzy from two orgasms. 

Felix is busy looking you over, making sure your uniform is neat and smoothing your hair down. It’s all sweet and lowkey domestic, making your heart swell at the Hufflepuff in front of you. He smiles that smile you love and it baffles you how this boy could go from fucking you in the restricted section of the library to this innocent looking sunshine. 

He’s coming to cup your face again, leaving a few kisses against your cheeks before kissing your lips.

“So like…I know this is backwards but uh- do you like? Maybe wanna go on a date sometime? And be my girlfriend?”

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