#op oneshot

[jainiss]

Mihawk and Yn stepped into the quaint inn, both visibly exhausted from their day of adventures. They exchanged weary glances as they surveyed the cozy, dimly lit room, realizing there was only one bed.

Yn cleared their throat, feigning nonchalance. "Well, this is... cozy."

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, his stoic expression unchanged. "Indeed, it seems we have limited options."

They silently communicated through stolen glances and subtle smiles. Yn moved towards the bed, trying to keep their voice casual. "I suppose we'll have to share it for the night. Not much choice, really."

Mihawk nodded, his gaze never leaving Yn. "Agreed."

As they settled onto the bed, there was a noticeable tension in the air. Yn fidgeted with the blanket, feeling the weight of the unspoken desire between them. "So, what did you think of today's adventure?"

Mihawk, taking the cue to keep the conversation neutral, replied, "It was challenging, as always. Your skills continue to impress me."

Yn's heart fluttered at the compliment. "Thank you, Mihawk. Your guidance has been invaluable."

They both knew that their connection ran deeper than just teacher and student. Yet, they maintained their facade of indifference. The minutes passed in silence, filled with unspoken longing.

Finally, Mihawk broke the silence, his voice soft and measured. "Perhaps we should get some rest. We have another long day ahead of us."

Yn nodded, turning away from him to hide their blush. "Right, goodnight."

Mihawk settled under the covers, his eyes never leaving Yn's form. "Goodnight."

As they lay in the small inn room, inches apart, the unspoken words hung in the air. They both knew they had feelings for each other, but for now, they would let their actions speak louder than words, cherishing the shared warmth of the single bed as they drifted off to sleep.

© jainiss ʕ•ᴥ•��

[softxsuki]

HEY HEY, back at it again with me being ⚜️ anon. kinda embarrassed after the last declined request because i’m like that

sooo, hopefully, could i have trope dabble with trope #3 and it would be fem!reader (one piece as well)

congrats on 1.5k AGAIN !!

1.5k Follower Event Trope #3 One Piece

Trope 3: Friends to Lovers

This even is now CLOSED. You can checkout the masterlist here.

| Pairing: Zoro x Fem!Reader | Genre: uh hurt comfort? idk | Post-Type: oneshot (so much for drabbles omg) | Word Count: 1.1k (bruh) |

Warnings: mentions of making out, kissing, reader gets injured, Zoro is a little hard on her for a bit because he's scared and wants her to get stronger faster, minor swear from Zoro

Note: I was excited for this one! I had trouble choosing whether to write for Luffy, Ace, or Zoro, but I had to go with my man :') hopefully it came out okay! There was so much I wanted to write, but as we can see, I'm struggling to keep this under 500 words...

Our stoic Zoro is difficult to get close to, questioning the loyalty of all crew members before he gets to know them, he’s a hard shell to crack. That included you as well. 

Your key to getting closer to Zoro was your desire to get stronger within the crew. You were tired of being weak and unable to fully defend yourself against enemy pirates and marines. The last thing you wanted to do was hold your crew mates back, so this was your best solution. Zoro spent all his time training anyway, so when you asked for his help, he gave a shrug and a grunt in response. You were in.

From that moment forward, you both spent a lot of time together. He could see your passion and seriousness towards wanting to better yourself for the crew's sake, and he respected that a lot. Training time expanded into spending even more time together; whether it be sitting beside him during dinner, having a drink with him during celebrations, or watching each other’s backs during fights, you guys were joined at the hip.

One specific battle left you severely injured, you hadn’t noticed that enemy pirate behind you while you were too focused on the one you were dealing with at the time, leading to you being slashed deeply across the back.. Thankfully Chopper dragged you away and began emergency procedure straight away. 

After the battle was over, Zoro was the first to stop by and check on you. His face remained stoic as he nodded his head towards, chopper before turning to face you as you laid in your bed. You felt bad, even after all that training, you were the only one seriously injured.

Zoro sighs as you avoid his eye, taking a seat on the chair beside your bed. He felt angry, but not at you. He didn’t realize how scared he was that you wouldn’t make it from that injury until he rushed to your room where Chopper had taken you, and felt how relieved he was when he saw you up and alert. He cared about you.

“Need someone to take care of you, huh? As soon as you’re done recovering, I’ll see you bright and early in the crows nest,” he mumbles, standing up again. He was bad at expressing all these confusing emotions bubbling up inside him, so he decided to keep them to himself, leaving you to rest.

It took a few weeks for you to fully recover, feeling frustrated with yourself and your weakness, you hurry to meet Zoro in the crows nest, who hadn’t visited you as often as you had hoped during your recovery.

Making your way up to the crows nest, you could hear the familiar sounds of dumbbells clanging, meaning he was up there training as usual. As you enter, he nods to you in acknowledgment, before finishing up his set. It was back to training, but this time Zoro was even more strict on you, pushing you beyond your limits.

This went on for a week before you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Zoro, please I need a breather,” you pant, your arms already feeling like jelly from the hours you’d already trained this week, your body couldn’t keep up.

“No, not until you finish your reps,” he answers coolly, continuing his own exercises, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were still going.

You were done.

You slam the dumbbell to the ground and spin around ready to leave the crows nest. You were trying your best, but each day he went harder and harder on you with no remorse.

“I’m done with this,” you grit, storming off.

But Zoro is quick as he puts his own weights down and races to you, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you towards him, spinning you so you’re facing him.

“You’re not done until you finish your reps. Are you going to give up already? You still have a long way to go,” He says between clenched teeth. He was doing his best to control himself and not do or say something rash, but that all crumbles at your next words.

“No,” you retort, snatching your arm from his grip, sending him a glare, “You’ve been pushing me to the bone all week, you never did this before! What happened to our training sessions when we first started? I can’t do this anymore.”

He stops you once more, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his chest so your faces are inches away from each other. He’s breathing heavily, looking into your eyes, his hands still gripping you to hold you still.

“I can’t lose you too, dammit!” Zoro screams, finally letting those unresolved emotions race out through his growing frustration and fear.

His heart almost races out of his chest when your eyes widen, those eyes he thought he’d never see again that one day after you were seriously injured. Without even thinking, his lips crash down onto yours with such ferocity, you’re frozen in shock until he pulls away.

It all made sense to you now, he was pushing you because he cared. He was scared that day and wanted to try and help you get stronger as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, still not making any attempts to let you go just yet. “You understand now, don’t you?”

How could you not? You felt your face go flush as he held you close.

“I just can’t lose you.”

You're silent for a few moments, processing everything until you sigh and finally wrap your arms around him, shocking him now.

“You won’t lose me. I want to get stronger too, but this isn’t the way to do it.”

“I know, I’m sorry. If you still want to train with me, I’ll make it how it used to be,” he mumbles, holding you tightly to his chest, scared to let you go.

That was something you could agree on, so you both made it happen.

After that night, things seemed to move forward naturally between you. Training went back to normal, but there was this new tension between you. Zoro would be a little more touchy during training which would lead to heated makeout sessions later on. It was a nice change, one you welcomed with open arms.

During battles, Zoro was on high alert, keeping an eye on you at all times and always ready to step in to help if you ever needed him to.

It was clear how he felt about you, and maybe he wouldn’t express that verbally right away, but his actions always made it obvious that his feelings for you had a romantic twinge to them. One that would grow quickly the more time you spent together. 

Posted: 1/4/2024

[ariadne-mouse]

I have to say I love the trend of Critical Role setting fundraising targets for things like :) these are reasonable increments and then critters saying "bet" and joyfully blasting them a mile out of the water at superspeed

[pholla-jm]

Meet My Wife

IMAGINE: MEET MY WIFE~ LUFFY X F!READER GENRE: FLUFF warnings: f!reader implied. not proof read. slight cursing ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luffy seemed more excited than usual. I mean, he’s always bouncing off the wall. But it was like he was expecting something and he couldn’t wait for it. 

“What do you think he’s excited about?” Chopper asks Nami.” She just sighs and waves her hand around, “knowing him. He’s probably excited about food.” 

Little did they know, they were about to be in a world of shock. 

Luffy did not waste a single second jumping off the boat as soon as it docked. He continued to run straight into town, like he knew exactly where he was going. 

The rest of the crew just watched him, some in confusion and some of them looked exhausted. Sanji sighs, taking a deep breath of his cigarette. “He’s most likely going to cause trouble.” Nami sighs, already feeling a headache form because of her idiot captain. 

However, it wasn’t food or a new adventure that got him this excited. No, it was someone who was very important to him. He remembered the instructions very clearly. He couldn’t forget it. Just follow the path, there are going to be white flowers along the path. It should lead all the way down to a small house with flowers and different plants all around the place. 

His eyes grew wide seeing the variety of plants and flowers, knowing that you had planted these yourself. The door opens and a large smile covers his face. 

“(y/n)!” He shouts, grabbing your attention. He ran at you, full force and it looked like he wasn’t going to stop. You drop the empty basket you were carrying, fully prepared for him to throw himself onto you. 

And you were right. His body crashes into you. His arms and legs wrapping around you, and he nuzzles his face into your cheek. The first thing he notices is how soft your skin feels against him. The second thing he notices is how sweet you smell. You smelled like fresh laundry, but with a hint of something sweet, like you were just baking. 

“Luffy.” You softly say with a smile on your face. “I didn’t know you were going to be here so soon… I missed you.” You whisper the last part. “I missed you too.” Lufffy pulls back, letting you go a bit. “Are you making something?” He asks. 

You nod your head, “yes. It’s actually almost done. Would you like to try some?” He immediately nods his head yes and you laugh. “I don’t know why I asked. Of course you would. Come inside.” 

He completely lets you go now, and you pick up the empty basket heading back inside. 

The sweet scent is stronger and Luffy basically salivates at the smell. You grab a cloth, pulling out the fresh strawberries and cream croissants. There were only a few, since you weren’t expecting company. 

“Careful, they’re hot.” You say but he doesn’t care. He’s already stuffing his mouth with a croissant. 

His eyes widen and there’s a smile on his face. “They're so good!” He says while grabbing another one. You laugh, “wait. Save one for me.” You grab the last one, taking a bite of it. You were glad how good they came out. 

Once he scarfs down the second croissant, he looks at you and clears his throat. “You should meet my crew!” He says like it was another Tuesday.  

Your eyes widen. “Really?” You ask and he nods his head. “Of course!” You suddenly got nervous and wondered what his crew was like. They had to be nice, right? Luffy only accepted the best of the best. So what would they think of you?

“Like right now?” 

Luffy stands up, “yeah!” He grabs onto your arm and drags you out of the small house. 

“W-wait! Wait! Let me at least clean myself up.” You try to tell him but it falls upon deaf ears. 

You were now leaving your property, and Luffy must've thought you were moving too slow because he suddenly picks you up bridal style. His arms securely wrapped underneath your legs and the other one supporting your back. 

You let out a small gasp, surprised at the action. It had you a bit flustered as he ran back to what you could assume was his ship. 

He was running for about five minutes until the both of you arrived at the port. Multiple ships lined up on the dock, but there was one that stood out to you. A ship with a sheep head. It was… cute. 

You could see people walking on the ship, minding their own business. Until they spot their captain holding some girl. 

The redhead girl gasps, gaining the attention of the other crewmates. 

“Holy shit, Luffy! Did you kidnap someone?!” Nami shouts, a bit horrified. 

Luffy just laughs as he jumps onto the ship, causing you to let out a short yelp at the unexpected height change. 

“No,” Luffy laughs while placing you down, “I want you to meet my wife.” He announces causing everyone on the ship to gasp. Your eyes widened and your cheeks warmed up at his announcement. There was no way he still thinks that the wedding was real…

“What?!” A blonde male shrieks, “you’re telling me that this idiot right here is actually married.” “Yup!” Luffy says with a proud smile on his face and his fists on his hips. “No, I don’t believe it.” Another male says while shaking his head. 

“Well believe it. We kissed and everything. It was official.” He says, causing you to cover your face in embarrassment. You had no idea that Luffy was going to introduce you like this. 

The blonde male cries out, shouting how unfair the universe was. 

“(y/n).” Luffy says while grabbing onto your wrist. He pulls you forward, “I want you to meet my crew!” 

He points at the blonde, “that’s Sanji, our cook.” He then points at the woman, “Nami, our navigator.” He then points at the curly headed man, “Usopp, aaaaand,” he points at the sleeping man with green hair, “Zoro.” 

“Everyone, this is (y/n). My wife!” He pulls you again. This time you were pressed up against him. You honestly felt like you were on fire. 

You wondered how strange this must've looked for them. And you honestly wanted to clear things up.

“B-but Luffy.” You whisper, gaining his attention. “We got married as kids. Kids, Lu.” You emphasize the words kid, hoping that he would get the hint. 

“Oh, yeah.” He says like he almost forgot something important, “I have these.” He pulls out two rings. The same poorly made rings that were made as kids. 

You grab one of the rings, feeling the familiar flutter in your heart. Luffy smiles, “I think they’re too small now. But that’s okay. We can make new ones.” 

A blush dusts your cheeks. It was really sweet that he still considers you his wife. “Yeah… that actually sounds really nice.” 

“Shishishi, I knew you would like that.”

Well... maybe things didn't have to be cleared up right away. Let the crew think the strange things.

[angelsbless]

Hi angels i'm sorry for disappearing i'll try to respond to all the requests and post more often 🤍🤍

.

Trafalgar law x reader (hcs)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊

This man is the most tsundere man ever, he's literally bad at showing affection due to his past trauma and he's always scared of getting hurt or hurting the people he loves so he tends to keep his distance.

Acts of service and physical touch would be his love language. His touch is warm and gentle and he treats you like you are made of glass, he would blush if u initiate the PDA somewhere in public but he secretly likes it.

You'd find small gifts in your room with a note from him whenever he goes out because every time he buys you things that remind him of you, and he smiles to himself while imagining how happy you'd be when you receive it.

You'd remind him to eat and to not overwork himself because sometimes he gets so lost in his research and work, sometimes you end up reading a book by his side while enjoying each other's presence.

He is the type to blush A LOT when he says something sweet to you and tells you to STFU if you ask him to repeat.

You'd play with his messy soft hair, you're one of the few people that are allowed to touch it and he feels comfortable with it, seeing him without his hat makes your heart swell with affection it just makes him more soft and cute, he would smile at that every time and it makes him happy inside, your touch is so soothing to him so having you playing with his hair calms him and make him feel warm and safe.

A LOT of hugs from behind, you'd be just out there doing your work and suddenly you're somewhere private with law hugging you from behind, just hug him back please it's his way of recharging for the day, you're his only safe place and he is vulnerable around you so please don't turn him off.

Late night talk and a lot of deep conversations with him, it's his therapy session.

He'd suddenly open up to you about all of his thoughts and pain and he'd let everything out and once you reassure him enough because this man didn't wanna bother you with his pain, he thinks he should carry the darkness in his heart alone but once he met you you started to clear his heart and wash his pain away so when you guys do have this talk he'd hug you and sob because this man has been holding to himself for 20 years and he has finally found peace and love in you.

You're his home and safe place and he'd do anything to protect you.

He's such a sweetheart and even if it took him sometime to show it.

I love him so much he's the kindest, please treat him nicely <3

[radio-fmm]

The phrase “silence is louder than words” never meant anything to Sanji

Until now

You have been quiet. Terribly so. For the last 20 minutes and it’s driving him insane. Somehow he has missed you during this time, even if you’re sitting just a couple steps away

Your eyes are glued to your notebook, a steady hand that clenches at the poor pencil glides thorough the page. Usually, you enjoy this activity, a twinkle in your eye that hangs brightly illuminating the room. But now… you wear a pout, a scowl, eyebrows looking down in anger. Steam almost comes out your ears

You’re upset

I mean, clearly, but Sanji still hasn’t build up the courage to ask what’s going on. Because he knows the answer

When you started dating the cook, you knew his tendencies with women wouldn’t just disappear. But it didn’t made you happy either

You had talked about his behavior several times, asking for nothing more than respect which is the bare minimum really. Sanji had dramatically stated that he had no eyes for no other than his sweet angel which, was true in a way

So when you turned around in the market and spotted him salivating at a belly dancer that just happened to be nearby you weren’t surprised

But you also weren’t thrilled

Sanji adores you. You’re his light, his angel, his rock, his goddess, his life . He would do anything for you, hell, he’ll bring down the stars above if you just asked. But who wouldn’t feel insecure after their partner looks at another woman like that?

He hates himself for it, he’ll allow you to spit and step on him like gum if that’s what grant him your forgiveness. He needs to change. He knows it, he will do it a thousand times over, just for you

Slowly, he makes his way to sit in front of you, your movements come to a halt as you heard him plop down onto the chair, but you don’t spare him a glance

Ouch

“Hi” his voice comes out strained, frightened

You remain frozen, thinking on what to do… lash out? Curse at him? Stay quiet for another hour? Leave?

You just answer

“Hi”

A shiver runs down Sanji’s spine at your answer, the sound of your voice making him giddy, oh how has he missed you

“You’re mad”

“How observant”

“At me”

“Clearly”- finally, your eyes leave your page and find Sanji’s. He looks pale like a ghost, breathing irregular as he awaits his destiny

There’s another silence, this one is different, your annoyed tone sits on top of it leaving a sour taste behind your tongues, a silence that resembles a ticking bomb

“I am sorry” the cook fidgets with his hands, eyes pooling slightly at the thought of what will you do

“Your apology means nothing to me, actions speak for themselves Sanji…” your gaze is heavy, nothing like he usually meets it. You’re so light like the sea breeze, like a fresh lemonade drink on a sweet sunny day. Right now? You burn, hot like a spicy hot sauce that makes your nose run

You shake your head and sigh, a long tired one that makes Sanji’s heart tear at the seams

“I just don’t understand you Sanji… I would never do that to you”

This, this is the moment where you defeat him. Your sad puppy eyes looking up at him, the hurt behind your voice and the truth. Oh the truth of it all breaks him completely, of course you wouldn’t do that to him, you’re the most loyal kindhearted beautiful human being on earth

He swallows

Sanji considers throwing himself overboard for the sea kings to devour him whole, and that still wouldn’t be enough

He suddenly gets up and holds both your hands with such tenderness as he kneels before you

An offering at your benevolent temple

“My love, I know I did wrong and disrespected you and our relationship. No fancy sweet words could ever make a difference. So now I promise you, not empty promise but real this time, that I will change to he the man you deserve”

You shake your head once more. You don’t believe him? Are you finally done with him? There’s nothing he can do I if you decide to do so because he messed up big time

“I know I deserve better” Sanji closes his eyes and scrunches his nose at the statement, your voice drilling through his head and making him dizzy

It hurts, because it’s true

“But I don’t want better on anyone else but you”

His head that had dropped raises to find your face, you’re still mad, but even mad you offer him another chance while holding his hand through it all. Because that’s who you are, you believe in him, you trust him

“This is the last time-“

“Yes! Yes! I promise you my angel, you can kick me out of the crew If I ever even glance at the opposite direction of you, I will be better”

“Sanji” another shiver runs up and down his form, he loves the way you say his name

“Hurting my feelings and getting my forgiveness every single time is not okay. I would only continue to be with you if you show me change”

His golden locks rise and fall rapidly as he shakes bis head up and down. Carefully, he takes your left hand and kisses the promise ring atop of one of your fingers, a reminder of his undying love and devotion

A reminder that your love is stronger than anything else. Even jealousy and disrespect

The cold material meeting his lips makes him giddy. You’re way too good, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you

“I am sorry, so deeply sorry sweetheart, and I’ll repay you being the best man, your man”

A giggle scapes you at the absurdity of it all. You don’t know when had Sanji wrapped you around his finger. If it were anyone else you would’ve walked a long time ago

But you know him, at his core, he needs you

And you love him, and he does too

Nami scoffs loudly making Robin laugh covering her mouth as to not drawn any attention, they can’t see your face but they can imagine both of you on the other side of the door

“I swear she forgives him too easy”

“Love is work” Robin says, whispers to the wind and Nami hates it

Because it’s true

[hiddenlife-manager]

hello :) Ive seen you are taking requests. So if you are okay with it and you are willing to give it a shot I would like zo request Luffy x fem reader smut where they are in established relationship and while they are making love someone walk on them. But no pressure. Have a nice day/night :)

Luffy x Fem Reader

cw... overstimulation, walking in, voyeurism, sloppy sex, not on his bed, nipple sucking, tit play, clit play, desperate Luffy, etc….

notepad... I AM ON A ROLL I have this one done and I have another Blood of Zeus one coming up. I literally just came out of my wisdom teeth removal yall. SO THIS IS NOT EDITED

You felt him pushing you down. His hands are groping your chest, and his mouth is leaving nibble marks around your neck. You giggled at the way it felt like he truly was one with his teeth. Luffy was constantly biting you, just so you knew he loved you. Not in an ‘I want to eat you’ way; he just wanted to get as close as he could to you, which meant kissing you deeply.

He had you pinned as you felt his cock enter your sopping hole. You felt him push you down deeper into the bunk, his mouth going all over your body. Your head was thrown back, and you felt yourself getting overwhelmed by the feeling of him going in and out of you. It was clear that Luffy was fucking you like a dog in heat. His lips were suddenly lowering down to your nipple, and he sucked at it.

“Y/n- shiii so good.” He moaned out as his hips bucked into you. Your breasts were bouncing while you had his hands gently hold your hips. Luffy was off the bunk as your hips were at the edge, meaning that Luffy was on his legs, fucking you. He could hear the sound of your pussy echoing in the room. He loved it; he loved the sound your body made, from the moans you cry out to the slick of your pussy.

Your moans were not loud, and all you could do was try to make your moans less loud by placing a hand over your lips. Luffy fucked you with barely any rhythm, being sloppy, and yet no matter how sloppy he was, he knew how to get you worked up. You felt your left nipple being pinched while his mouth flicked at your right nipple. He needed you; he needed to release, and it was clear. 

Luffy could feel his legs getting weaker, and he did not care about anything but you and him. You tasted so good, and your skin was perfect. As he thrust deep into you, his cock being able to reach the deepest parts of your pussy, you suddenly heard the door open, and you looked behind Luffy to see Zoro with eyes wide.

"Zoro, get out!” You cried as you tried to cover yourself. Luffy truly did not care, as he was still thrusting deep inside you. Truly, you were trying to cover your breast. As you did that, Luffy whined because you pulled him away from your nipple, and he began to play with your breast. Zoro's eyes were wide in shock. He cleared his voice and shut the door immediately, as you could hear the heavy footsteps walk away. You were moaning loudly as you tried to push him away, embarrassed. But all it did to Luffy was continue to fuck you hard. 

“Close… so close, Y/n- shii.” You were moaning so loudly at the way he did not stop thrusting his hands and playing with your breast instead of sucking. You were feeling so overwhelmed that your head was pressed against the mattress when Luffy's mind exploded with pleasure, which caused him to fall onto his knees and pull out of you. His streaks of cum shoot inside you and then onto your cunt. Your legs spasm as you kick him away with a cry of pure pleasure. 

“Luffy! You bastard!” You said as you continued to kick at him to his chest, but his arms stretched to your clit and he began to rub circles in your oversensitive clit. “Ah! Fuck… Luffy!”

[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 ? 👀

[dfortrafalgar]

Mush

A short drabble for our favorite man.

Warnings: Reader is written to be short, short enough to not reach the top shelf at least

A/N: This was a single-page google doc that I started early last year, and I feel like I was going to continue it, but I have no idea where the rest of the story went in my head. But I think it's cute as a short ficlet :)

Trafalgar Law was a powerful man.  Captain of his own strong pirate crew, infamy following his footsteps everywhere he walked.  If his renowned hat and iconic sword didn’t give him away to strangers, his jolly roger certainly did, sticking out like a sore thumb when lined up next to other more traditional skull and crossbone designs.  Law knew his worth, he knew his status and rank as a wanted pirate captain, and he was damn proud of it.  Every day he worked to hone his devil fruit powers and grow stronger, leading his Heart Pirates with diligence, grace, and a firm, unwavering fist.  Indeed, Law was the very definition of a formidable, intense mind and body.

“Law, I can’t reach the spice jar on the top shelf, can you help me?”

Trafalgar Law was also a very weak man.  If irony was a person, they would be Law’s biggest schoolyard bully.

The sight of you on the tips of your toes, reaching up with your entire body length, one hand holding yourself against the galley’s metal countertop to keep yourself stable while struggling to reach the glass allspice jar that seemed miles away from your desperate fingertips.  You made Law’s ruthless, unrelenting heart melt into a puddle of gross mush.  The captain stood from his seat at the crew’s eating table, leaving the book he was skimming through abandoned to instead offer his help to you.  You stepped aside to allow room for the taller man who fetched the jar with embarrassing ease.  With a barely audible huff, he passed the item to you, and you graciously took it into your own hands.

The smile you flashed at him, bright and joyful like a mid-June day and stretching from ear to ear, was far better than a regular ‘thank you’ in his eyes.

“You’re the best, Law, seriously!”  You excitedly resumed your work flipping through a small journal full of baking recipes, eager to spend your downtime on the Polar Tang doing something nice for the rest of your crew.

And although Law struggled to admit it out loud, he’d do anything to keep that smile on your face.

Anything at all.

[feet010]

(This is not the majority this is just a good portion of fanfics)

I hate when people don't portray a character correctly in a fanfic physically (unless stated in title but I'm talkin about canon fics)😭

I hate to break it to y'all, but unless ur talking about pre-timeskip Law (usually said in title). He is NOT a skinny twink emo boy, blud is BULKED UP

Abs made of steel

[f1daydreamer]

Coming Back to Us

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Angst & Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of arguments, emotional tension.

Word Count: ~1,200

---

The sound of rain hitting the window matched the rhythm of your tears falling onto the pillow. The house felt unbearably quiet now—just the soft hum of the heater filling the void Oscar had left.

It had started with something so trivial: his packed schedule, your growing frustration with his endless absence, and the unspoken words that piled up like weights on your chest. Words that finally exploded two nights ago.

"Maybe I should just go!" he had snapped, throwing his hands in the air.

"Maybe you should!" you'd yelled back, your voice cracking with hurt.

And just like that, he did.

The regret had set in almost immediately. The way his face fell before he walked out the door was burned into your memory, but your pride had kept you from calling him back. Now, two days later, your pride felt more like a noose tightening around your throat.

You were startled by the sound of keys jingling outside the door. The clock read 11:47 PM. Your heart skipped a beat.

When the door opened, Oscar stepped inside, rain dripping from his jacket. His hair was a mess, and dark circles shadowed his normally bright eyes. He looked just as exhausted as you felt.

Neither of you said anything as he closed the door behind him, hanging his jacket on the rack before turning to face you.

"I couldn't stay away," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I know we’re not perfect, and I know I’m not always here, but walking out that door was the worst thing I’ve ever done."

Your lips parted, words caught in your throat as you took him in—his trembling hands, the vulnerability etched across his face.

"I don’t want to lose you," he continued, taking a hesitant step closer. "I love you. Even when I’m halfway across the world, you’re all I think about."

The dam broke. Tears streamed down your face as you rushed into his arms, your fists clutching the fabric of his hoodie like it was your lifeline.

"I’m sorry," you whispered against his chest. "I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them."

His arms tightened around you, his hand cradling the back of your head. "Neither did I. I was frustrated, but that’s no excuse." He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there.

For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other as the rain continued to fall outside.

"I’ll do better," he promised, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "I’ll make more time for us, no matter how crazy things get. You’re more important than any race, any podium."

You shook your head, a bittersweet smile forming on your lips. "I don’t need you to choose. I just need you to let me in—to let me be there for you, even when it’s hard."

Oscar nodded, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. "Deal."

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. "We’re such a mess."

"Yeah," he agreed with a small smile. "But we’re our mess."

He tilted your chin up and kissed you, slow and sweet, as if to seal the promise between you. When you finally pulled away, the weight that had been suffocating you was gone.

"Come on," you said, tugging his hand toward the couch. "You look like you haven’t slept in days."

"I haven’t," he admitted with a sheepish grin, letting you pull him down beside you.

As you curled up together under a blanket, the storm outside faded into the background. The ache of the past two days lingered, but it was overshadowed by the warmth of his arms around you, the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

You were far from perfect, but together, you were enough.

---

A/N

Hey there, lovelies! I hope this little piece tugged at your heartstrings just the right amount. Remember, every relationship has its storms, but love—real love—finds a way to weather them. Sending you all the hugs and warmth tonight! xx

[jainiss]

Buggy and Yn entered the quaint, dimly lit inn, their tired bodies yearning for a comfortable place to rest after a grueling day of adventures. To their surprise, the room had only one bed. The atmosphere was thick with tension as they exchanged a brief, nervous glance.

Yn cleared their throat, trying to maintain composure. "Well, this is...unexpected."

Buggy chuckled nervously, scratching his head. "Yeah, it's a small inn, what can you do?"

They both stood there for a moment, uncertain of what to do next. Yn tried to lighten the mood. "Guess we'll have to share."

Buggy, with a grin, quipped, "A real pirate knows how to adapt to any situation."

As they settled onto the bed, their shoulders brushed, sending shivers down their spines. The closeness was undeniable, and their hearts raced. Yn pretended to be engrossed in a book they found on the nightstand, while Buggy fiddled with his hat.

Minutes passed in awkward silence before Buggy hesitated, speaking softly, "You know, Yn, I've always admired your skills in battle."

Yn's heart skipped a beat. "Thanks, Buggy. You're no slouch yourself."

Their gazes met, lingering for a moment before they both looked away, blushing. The unspoken attraction between them was palpable.

As the night wore on, they continued exchanging casual conversation, avoiding any acknowledgment of their feelings. They laughed, shared stories, and in the small hours of the morning, Yn finally whispered, "Buggy, I'm glad we ended up here together."

Buggy turned to them, his eyes warm, "Me too, Yn. It's been a memorable night."

With that, they both drifted into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in the warmth of their unspoken connection, neither needing words to express what they felt.

© jainiss ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

[ghostedeabha]

Hi! I saw your blog and I just loved the idea of ​​perv!law!!! Can you do perv!law by taking y/n, fucking her like a dog in heat and breeding her? 🙏

getting bred like a bitch in heat by law would cure me, i think🙏

like... just think about it.

he's got you beneath him, face down ass up on the mattress as he drills into you from behind like a feral mutt. a relentless pace set with his hands digging into your hips, dragging you back on his cock like you're a toy, he's growling and grunting in your ear, his teeth digging into the flesh of your shoulder and neck as he ruts his cock into your dripping heat over and over again.

he'a groaning in your ear, telling you how he's going to fill you with his seed, breed you until you're full of his cum and round with his offspring.

and don't think that you're only going one round. when he's in this feral, breeding mood, he's ravaging you for hours on end. you better not plan on leaving the house that day because you won't even be able to walk by the time he's done with you. he's fucking you every which way, flipping and bending you to his will as he stuffs you full of his cum.

[ariadne-mouse]

openly flirtatious, handsy, slightly loopy Dorym in combat is the funniest fucking thing

[pholla-jm]

Say My Name

IMAGINE: SAY MY NAME~ LUFFY X READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of (y/n). ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luffy has gone by many names.

 Monkey D. Luffy. 

Mugiwara. Strawhat Luffy. 

Lucy.

Luffy tarou.

Captain. 

Or simply Straw Hat. 

He doesn’t mind any of the names that he is called. 

However, that changed when you joined the crew. 

You always called him Captain, and he didn’t mind that. But he grew to hate. Why? Well it all started when he paid attention to how you interacted with the rest of the crew. 

“Hey Nami! Do you want to paint nails together?” You call out to her, holding out a new tube of nail polish. Nami smiles brightly at your requests and nods her head. 

Luffy first noticed that you called her by her name, and not by her title. 

“Zoro, can you move your weights please?” You call out to him. Since you were bored, you wanted to clean the area. But his weights were in the way. “Just clean around it.” 

Luffy watches the scene, head tilted. Wondering why you didn’t call him by his title. 

Later, when the crew was finished with dinner, you had stayed behind. So did Luffy, waiting to see if there was more food. 

“Hey, Sanji. Mind if I help with dishes?” You ask. “Oh no, my dear. You shouldn’t sully your hands. You should head to bed, get a good night's rest.” You smile fondly at the cook, “thank you. Goodnight.” 

You turn to see your Captain, “good night, captain.” “ night.” He responds, deep in thought. 

It went on like this for days, weeks, and almost months. Hearing you call out everyone’s names. “Robin” “Usopp.” “Chopper.” “Franky.” “Brook.” 

And yet. When it came to him, it was just Captain. Never Luffy, and he was getting quite frustrated at this point. He just wanted to hear his name from you at least once.

So when you were by yourself on night watch he decided to take the initiative. He stretches himself up onto the crows nest. 

Upon hearing the familiar sound of rubber stretching, you turn around to greet your Captain. 

“Hey Captain, what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be sleeping or something?” 

“Why don’t you ever say my name?” He got straight to the point. 

You stare at him in confusion, “What are you talking about? I do say it, captain.” The captain pouts his lips, “no. That’s not my name. It’s just a title.” 

“Well, yeah. And that title is your name.” “But you never call anyone else by their title.” “Hm, well I was just raised this way. You’re the captain and this is just how I’m showing my respect for you.” 

Luffy hums in response with a thoughtful look on his face. 

“As your captain, I want you to call me by my real name. Captain's orders.” He smiles at you like he just found the biggest loophole, “you have to respect that, ya know?” 

You just laugh and shake your head. “Fine, I'll start calling you by your real name.” 

He looks at you, waiting for you to mutter the simple word from your mouth. However, it is silent. And the both of you are just staring at each other. 

“Oh, you mean now?” 

Luffy nods his head. 

“Okay…. Luffy. I’ll start calling you by your name.” 

A huge grin breaks out on his face. He didn’t know that hearing his name from you would be so… addicting. The way you said it sounded so smooth and alluring. It drew him in, and he definitely wanted more. You had a slight accent so his name sounded a bit different. However, he still liked it. 

“Say it again.” 

“Huh?” You laugh, “why?” “Just say it again. Please.” 

“Okay, Luffy. I’ll say your name as many times as you want.” 

He took that quite literally. 

“Again.” 

“Luffy.” “Again.” “Luffy.” 

Every time you would say his name he would get closer and closer to your face. Almost like if he got closer, he could somehow hear his name better. Every time he got closer, your face would get redder and redder. Your noses were basically touching, and you could feel his breath fan against your lips. 

“Again.” 

“Uh, Luffy. What are you doing?” “I want to keep hearing you say my name forever.” 

You nervously laugh, afraid to even speak out loud since he was still so close. “Luffy, we have all the time in the world. You can hear it whenever you want.” You whisper.

He purses his lips and pulls back slightly. “You’re right. Just one more time, please?” “Okay, one more time. It’s time for you to go to bed, Luffy.” 

Luffy’s face turns into a smile, “okay. Thank you (y/n).” 

You don’t respond. You just smile at him and watch him departure for the crow’s nest.

[forsaire]

A MacTavish Christmas

When Soap can't make it home for Christmas, Ghost plans a surprise and brings Christmas to him. (~2k)

It's me @emmster! 🤭🤭

Here is your secret santa gift! I hope you enjoy how utterly, disgustingly sweet it is 💚💖

Ao3 link

---

Soap had always made it home for Christmas, it was something he spoke about with warm pride. No matter where he was or how late a flight he had to take or when the last time he slept was, he was always there for Christmas morning. He was always there in his mum’s arms who would pepper him with kisses until he had to pry her arms off him, always handing out messily wrapped gifts with newspaper and anything he could find last minute to his siblings, always letting his nieces and nephews climb all over him in their excitement to have Uncle John’s attention.

He'd been especially excited the week leading up to it, his energy both infectious and exhausting. Ghost often found himself listening in content silence as Soap spoke about his fond memories of the traditions the MacTavish family had been doing for years.

On Christmas day, they hid the baby Jesus figurine somewhere in the house for the kiddos to find and whoever did got to return him to the manger, finishing the nativity scene. They always had these amazingly fresh croissant rolls to eat with dinner that everyone adored, and which one year almost caused World War III when they were accidentally forgotten. Soap’s mum had decided that decorating the Christmas tree would remain a family affair. After all the kids moved out, she waited until everyone came back together so they could put the ornaments on the tree together just like they always used to do as kids, reminiscing at the memories and laughing at the poorly decorated ones.

Ghost enjoyed listening to Soap ramble on, sharing his own family with Ghost even if just in colourful stories. Ghost didn’t have his own, not anymore, so he let Soap paint the picture for him. Soap smiled and Ghost savoured the way his eyes crinkled as they lit up.  

But that smile was stolen.

It was at the end of a debrief, Price giving the men a heads up about an urgent meeting coming up – illegal arms trading hands in preparation for an attack on one of the embassies halfway across the world. But the mission had landed in their lap and it was up to them to stake it out and prevent the meeting from happening.

“We leave at the crack of dawn,” Price finished saying. “0500 hours. Five days from now.”

Five days.

Ghost could see Soap’s face fall as the numbers aligned in his head.

Christmas day.

Soap had gotten lucky all these years, he knew he had. He had leave fall over the Christmas break, or he’d been able to make arrangements with other soldiers, or when he joined the 141 Price had given them the time off, or the world seemed to slow down for a couple days and they simply weren’t needed.

But not this time.

Soap’s disappointed eyes dropped, his lips downturned into a faint frown. He didn’t say anything, there wasn’t anything to say. Nothing would matter whether it came from Soap, or Ghost, or Gaz, or anyone else.

They had a job to do. Service above self.

And Ghost had to watch that heartbroken face all the way back to their room.  

For as much good as Soap put into the world, he deserved better. They saw the worst of the world 364 days a year, and still Soap was able to remain optimistic, warm-hearted, kind.

He deserved better.

So that night, Ghost found himself in Price’s office, a suggestion falling from his lips that he needed some help with organizing. And with a nod and a grunt – the greatest level of acceptance he was ever going to get out of Price – he received a promise that Price would help.

And the days went by, that subtle spark that was always inside Soap continuing to remain dim, his disappointment hurting Ghost because he knew he couldn’t do anything to fix it. As Christmas day slowly approached, Ghost began to worry a bit more that his plan wouldn’t come in on time.

But then, Christmas Eve, 11:30pm.

A knock on the door jolted both of their heads up from where they sat on their separate beds, Soap looking up from his drawing and Ghost looking up from his book.

“MacTavish,” a muffled voice called out from behind the door. “You have a package.”

Furrowed brows glanced over at Ghost in surprise before flicking back to the door. He put his notebook down and walked over to it, Ghost following a few steps behind. When he opened the door, his eyes were pulled downwards.

Sitting in front of them was a cardboard box, 2 feet long, 1 foot wide and tall. It was hastily wrapped with packing tape on both ends, looking as though it had just come from a warehouse. On top of that box was another smaller one, half the size, this one decorated in striped Christmas wrapping paper.

Incredulous eyes glanced at Ghost again to try and find an answer. Ghost simply gestured towards the packages.

Soap pulled the boxes inside and closed the door.

He took out his pocketknife and expertly slid the blade across the tape to break the seal. He flipped open the top and reached into the dark box.

The branches flopped open as he pulled it from the box, expanding as if taking a breath. Faint shock rippled across Soap’s face as he glanced down at what he was holding.

A small Christmas tree only two feet tall, the synthetic pine needles dense, and a bright red base attached to the bottom.

“Uhh…” Soap breathed out as he put the tree on the table. He then turned his attention to the smaller wrapped box.

He carefully tore the wrapping paper off to reveal a standard sized postal box. Soap untucked the tab and opened up the lid. On the very top was a handwritten note, the bright green crinkle cut packing paper surrounding it in all directions.

Soap picked up the note.

“This…” he said quietly, “this is my Ma’s writing…”

He began to read the note out loud.

Hi love,

Ma here, hoping you have a Merry Christmas. We were all looking forward to seeing you, the kids especially. I know you can’t be with us this year and I know how disappointed you were, but we all understand that your job means you have more people that rely on you than just us. And that’s okay.

We’ll miss you dearly, but I hope wherever you are, you can still have a MacTavish Christmas. On Christmas morning, we will decorate the tree in your absence and I hope you get to do the same too.

Come visit when you can. I’ll be waiting to spoil you rotten with my cooking. I love you, mo chridhe.

“P.S., thank Simon for the idea-”

Soap whipped his head up to look at Ghost, his eyes quickly then glancing into the box which was stacked with ornaments. His mouth dropped open a sliver.

“These…” he said incredulously, picking one up, “these are mine. From back home. These are some of the one’s my Ma has. You…”

Soap’s eyes softened as he glanced at Ghost.

Ghost’s smile was warm but reserved. He picked up one of the ornaments, an old looking reindeer made from construction paper, googly eyes, and pipe cleaners.

“You said it was tradition that the MacTavish’s decorate their tree on Christmas day,” he replied tenderly, hanging the reindeer onto one of the branches. “I wanted you to still be a part of it this year. I know it’s technically Christmas Eve, but…”

Soap’s expression had melted into grateful disbelief, touched beyond belief at Ghost’s words. His eyes shimmered as he stared up at Ghost softly.

“Now c’mon,” Ghost said quietly. “Let me see what embarrassing family ornaments you have in here.”

Soap continued looking at Ghost for a few more moments, the weight of all his attention like a warm blanket wrapped around Ghost’s shoulders. Then, he smiled, Ghost’s life being ignited with that spark yet again.

Soap reached into the box and pulled another ornament out, smiling down at it sentimentally before slipping the ribbon around one of the branches to hang it on the tree. They slowly decorated the tree, Ghost barely paying attention to what the ornaments were. No, he was focused on the way Soap’s eyes lit up upon recognizing them, sometimes laughing, sometimes crinkling his eyes happily, something cringing.

“This one,” Soap said, holding up a small picture in a golden-rimmed frame with a young boy inside. He had a round face, crooked teeth, and the same familiar blue eyes. “This one was made in after school daycare. But as a kid I didn’t realize my Ma gave them the photo herself. But she still acted so shocked and thrilled to receive it from wee John.”

“Oh, and this one!” Soap held up a snowman wearing a t-shirt with the Greek flag on it.  “I got this one on a family trip to Greece.”

Soap’s eyes suddenly faltered in reminiscence. He picked up a ceramic dog, the golden retriever peeking its head out of a wreath, the name Baxter on top with the year 2015 on its collar. “This was my childhood dog. He was the best…”

Soap then widened his eyes as he reached into the box again. He pulled out a giraffe wearing a Santa hat made up of a bunch of thin, cylindrical beads that stood on top of a blue base.

“Ghost,” Soap said seriously, holding it out in between them. “I need you to shoot this giraffe.”

Ghost’s air pistol immediately became unsheathed and he levelled it at the giraffe, the muzzle hovering just a few inches away.

“Goodbye old friend…” Ghost lamented before pulling the trigger. His hand jolted up slightly at the recoil as the bullet was fired.

Soap pressed his thumbs into the base from underneath, causing the taut string that the beads sat on to suddenly go slack.

“Gah!” Soap let out, mimicking the sound of getting hit as the giraffe instantly flopped over. After a second, he let go of the button and the giraffe bounced back up, resurrected once again. He pressed the button several times, watching it flop over and over.

Soap giggled. It was so stupid, but Ghost succumbed to Soap’s joy and also found himself laughing at the floppy giraffe, the feeling light and freeing.

With his own smile plastered onto his face, he listened as Soap recounted some of the ornament’s stories. Or they simply laughed at the wonky one’s clearly made by a dumb child. Glittery pinecones, felt mittens, marker drawings on sheets of wood, one with Santa’s bare ass entirely on display, fancier snowflakes and bobbles.

And before he knew it, Ghost’s watched beeped twice, something it did at midnight every night. The tree was crowded with ornaments, some of the branches teetering under the weight. Soap looked down at Ghost’s watch, also familiar with what that beep meant.

Ghost leaned over to peer into the box, it now just a mess of crinkled paper. But peeking out from underneath the stuffing was something shining, yellow. Ghost reached in and pulled it out, shaking away the loose paper.

It was a star tree topper, its miniature size perfect to fit onto their miniature tree. Ghost stuck the curling base onto the top of the tree. It slanted slightly and he adjusted it with a finger nudge to sit up straight. Once he was sure it wouldn’t fall over, he turned back to Soap.

Soap was watching him with indescribable tenderness, an inkling of a smile lingering warmly on his face.

“There’s another MacTavish tradition I haven’t told you about…” he said softly, his voice low and quiet, his words just for the two of them.

“Yeah?” Ghost asked. “What’s that?”

Soap stepped closer, enough to send Ghost’s heart leaping into his throat. He was so close, all he had to do was reach out, he could pull Soap in by the waist, press them together.

Soap’s eyes flickered down to Ghost’s lips.

“The person who puts the star on gets a kiss…”

Then without hesitation, he leaned in, inching up slightly on his toes and pressing their lips together.

As soon as those lips were on him, Ghost’s mind blanked, whisking him away from reality until there was nothing else but the two of them. Ghost immediately melted into the kiss, his soul overwhelmed with relief after having suffered with yearning for so long.

Ghost wrapped his arm around Soap’s waist, easily pulling him as if they’d done it a million times before. Soap’s hand reached up and grabbed at Ghost’s shoulders, locking them in place.

It was beyond anything Ghost could have imagined, butterflies exploding in his stomach, and lights dancing behind his eyelids, and softness greater than anything he had felt. He was dizzy for a second as he felt himself reorient. Then, stillness. Every part of himself pointed at Soap.

Their kiss ended far too soon – though Ghost could have taken those lips forever and never gotten tired of them – and Soap gently rest their foreheads together. His hand cupped the side of Ghost’s face, such tenderness single handedly repairing the deep cavern that had torn Ghost’s heart open long ago.

His thumb gingerly rubbed back and forth.

“Merry Christmas, Simon…” he said softly.

Ghost couldn’t hold himself back and he searched desperately for Soap’s lips once again, finding salvation in their warmth. Soap chuckled and wrapped his arms around Ghost’s neck, happily sighing into the kiss as well.