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KISS ME MORE | Bakugo Katsuki
synopsis: you are a sucker for his make out sessions.
warnings: suggestive touching, grinding, hair pulling, dry humping, f!reader, bakugo is a biter
The faint glow of the living room lights lit the room perfectly, casting a golden hue across the room. His heavy breaths matched the slow rhythm of the distant bass thumping from a neighboring apartment.
You barely had a chance to catch your breath before Bakugo's lips were on yours again. He gripped your waist with a possessive firmness, his firm hold pressing your body into him and his crimson gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, daring you to look away first.
His hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back as he kissed a line down your jaw. Your breath hitched, heart pounding as if in response to the silent challenge. You could feel the intensity of his presence, the raw heat radiating from him as his lips trailed along your jawline. A sigh escaped you when his teeth grazed your skin, followed by the soft, maddening pull of his mouth marking you.
“Do you know how you look right now?” he murmured, taking a deep whiff of you as he rocked your hips against him. His voice low and gravelly, vibrating through your entire body. Your pulse quickened, your thoughts hazy as you suppressed your moans.
He smirked against your skin, sensing the hesitation, and wove his hand deeper into your hair. The slight tug tipped your head back, leaving you exposed to the heat of his breath and the electric touch of his lips. Another soft moan escaped, unbidden, as his mouth moved with purpose, leaving you teetering on the edge of control.
He chuckled, the sound dark and teasing, as he angled you against his cock to a pause. The friction frying what was left of your mind. Did he felt it. Of course, he felt it. “Needy little thing, huh?” he teased, his crimson eyes blazing as he pulled back just enough to look at you.
You didn’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, your fingers traced up his undercut to his soft ash blond hair, pulling him closer, forcing his smirk to fade into another kiss. This one was slower, deeper, and maddeningly thorough. His tongue slid against yours, tasting like spearmint and something utterly him.
His hand moved up, tracing the curve of your back before finding its way into your hair. He tugged gently, just enough to tilt your head back, exposing the curve of your neck. “You drive me insane,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your chest as he spoke.
His teeth grazed your pulse, and you felt the smirk against your throat when your hips shifted against him in response. His other hand slipped down, gripping your thigh to hold you steady as he pressed impossibly closer, the heat between you both almost unbearable.
“Bakugo…” You whispered his name, and his eyes softened for a split second before narrowing again, his intensity returning. “You’re not tapping out, are you?” he asked, his voice laced with mockery, though there was an unspoken promise lingering in his tone—he’d stop if you wanted him to.
But you didn’t. Instead, you pulled him back down, your lips crashing into his like they belonged there. The night was young, and you were far from done being tangled up in him.
#boku no hero academia#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#my hero academia#bakugo x reader#bnha bakugou#bakugo smut#katsuki bakugou#becertainlust
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@chibinasuu Thank you mootie!! I appreciate seeing you on my feed too, I gotta love your Sanji fics! And literally anything you write is so good! I swear I’m jumping for joy anytime I see your’s or anyone of the other bloggers I’ve tagged.
You all are so very appreciated!! Thank you for brightening my day and posting your masterpieces! 🫵
@stuckinmymind22 @ink-perfect @laughtalelogs @zorosangell @laws-right-arm @demonpiratehuntress @livelaughloveluffy @sleepymarimo @tooweirdforyou @sanjisleggy @rollinouttahere-writes @lovelybrooke @gingernut1314 @becertainlust @huyandere @plimchi
positivity train!
if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!
@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback
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SOMETHING SWEET | Sanji Vinsmoke
synopsis: You're sanji's little taste tester.
Content: Fluff
The Thousand Sunny rocked gently with the rhythm of the waves, the sound a soothing lullaby that carried through the stillness of the night. Outside, the moon cast its silver glow over the ship, its light filtering through the portholes and spilling faint patterns onto the wooden floors. The occasional creak of the ship and the distant crash of waves were the only sounds accompanying the serene quiet.
Your eyes fluttered open, staring into the ceiling above. Sleep hadn’t lasted long—again. You sighed softly, rolling onto your side. The jacket draped over the back of the chair caught your eye, and with a resigned groan, you swung your legs over the bed.
Pulling the jacket on over your sleepwear, you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. The ship was hushed, save for the faint sound of someone snoring a few doors down. You rubbed your arms, the night air cool against your skin as you padded toward a familiar glow at the end of the hall.
The kitchen light spilled out, warm and inviting, and the scent of something delicious drifted into the corridor. You smiled to yourself—it had become a tradition by now.
Pushing the door open, you leaned against the doorway and crossed your arms. “Burning the midnight oil again, Sanji?”
Sanji glanced over his shoulder, a grin already tugging at his lips. “And here I thought I might get some peace tonight.” He turned back to his work, the rhythmic sound of his knife slicing through something soft filling the space. “What’s the excuse this time, sweetheart?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, stepping into the room.
He chuckled, his voice low and warm. “Fair enough. But at least I’m being productive. You, on the other hand��what, couldn’t resist my cooking?”
You plopped onto the counter with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, absolutely. The smell dragged me out of bed by force. You should be ashamed, really.”
Sanji straightened, wiping his hands on a towel as he turned to face you. “Ashamed?” he repeated, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Darling, I’d say that’s a job well done.”
“Cocky as ever,” you teased, leaning back on your palms.
“And yet, you keep showing up,” he quipped, tossing the towel onto the counter before reaching for a mixing bowl.
“Someone has to keep you in check.”
He hummed thoughtfully, cracking an egg into the bowl with one hand. “Or maybe you just can’t stay away from me.”
The heat rose to your cheeks, but you rolled your eyes. “Maybe I just like the free snacks.”
Sanji laughed at that, his knife now working with quick, practiced movements. “Oh, is that all? Then how about you do your job, my little taste-tester, and tell me how these turned out?”
He handed you a warm cookie straight from the cooling rack. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, the touch lingering just long enough to make your heart skip a beat. You bit into the cookie, letting out a soft hum of approval as the flavors melted on your tongue.
“Well?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter, his gaze never leaving you.
The cookie was warm in your hand, its golden surface still glistening faintly from the oven. You took a tentative bite, and your taste buds were immediately greeted with a perfect blend of softness and sweetness. The chocolate chips melted at every chew, coating your tongue in rich, velvety decadence. It was perfect—so perfect you had to fight the urge to close your eyes and sigh in delight.
But you wouldn’t let Sanji know that.
“It’s... okay, I guess,” you said nonchalantly, taking another bite to mask the way your lips wanted to curve into a satisfied smile.
Sanji’s mouth parted slightly in mock offense, his hand going to his chest as though you’d just delivered a mortal wound. “Just okay? My dear, do you realize how much love and skill went into that cookie?”
“Oh, I can taste the ego,” you teased, licking a crumb from your lip. “It’s overpowering.”
His eyes narrowed, a playful challenge dancing in them. “You wound me, love. But you’re still eating it, so I guess it can’t be that bad.”
You shrugged, holding the cookie up as if weighing your words. “Hmm, free food is free food. Maybe I’ll keep you around after all.”
Sanji chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned closer, his grin as sharp as ever. “Keep me around? Darling, you’re lucky I haven’t started charging you for my masterpieces.”
“Masterpieces, huh?” You took another slow bite, savoring it despite yourself. “Keep practicing, and you might get there someday.”
Sanji stepped back with a dramatic flourish, his voice rich with mock formality. “Thank you for your insight, your majesty. What would you like so that I can change your mind?” He gave a sweeping bow, his face barely holding back a smirk.
You leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, fighting to keep your own grin under control. “Well, your highness,” you replied with a smile, clearing your throat “perhaps a lemon pound cake that doesn’t make me question your cooking skills would do the trick.”
Sanji stood up straight, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “So it’s a challenge you want?” He winked at you, his tone a mix of flirty confidence and playful resolve. “I’ll show you a masterpiece, just wait.”
You watched him move across the kitchen, his movements swift and graceful as he gathered the ingredients with exaggerated care, like a chef preparing for a grand performance. Every step, every gesture, was deliberate, like he was proving a point. And even though you were playing along, you couldn’t help but notice the way he carried himself—so sure, so confident.
You took another bite of the cookie, savoring it once again, but this time, you let your smile slip through.
#one piece x you#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#sanji fanart#sanji fanfic#one piece fluff#becertainlust#one piece
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doctor!law who always maintains his stoic professionalism with every patient—except when it comes to you. He insists it’s “just routine” that he visits you so frequently, ensuring your health is progressing as it should.
Morning rounds start with him pulling up a chair beside your bed, his amber eyes scanning your chart with precision. But even as his hands work with practiced ease, the way his thumb lingers on the edge of the clipboard suggests something more. His voice is low but gentle, asking how you slept, what you ate, and how you’re feeling, as though he’s committing every detail to memory.
At night, long after visiting hours have ended, his familiar silhouette appears in the doorway of your hospital room. He claims he’s just finishing his notes or double-checking the evening staff’s updates. Yet, somehow, he always ends up seated beside you, shoulders relaxing as you talk about your day. You notice the faint smirk tugging at his lips when you tease him about working too hard.
The truth is, Law tells himself he’s just being thorough. That it’s his job to ensure his patients feel cared for. But deep down, he knows no one else has ever drawn him in quite like you—no other voice has ever made him want to stay so desperately beyond his hours.
doctor!law who doesn’t do sentiment. At least, that’s what he claims, his sharp gaze and sharper tongue scaring off most patients from ever trying to get too familiar. But when it comes to you, it’s different—not that he’d ever admit it.
“You’ve been sitting around too much,” he says one afternoon, his voice cutting through the soft hum of your hospital room. “Come on.”
Before you can protest, he’s helping you to your feet with that infuriating air of calm authority. You don’t miss the way his hand lingers a moment longer than necessary, steadying you like he’s worried you might topple over.
“I didn’t ask for a walk,” you mutter as he leads you down the hall.
He doesn’t even look at you, his pace deliberate but not rushed. “And I didn’t ask for a stubborn patient, but here we are.”
The courtyard is quiet, bathed in golden afternoon light. Law doesn’t bother making small talk as you stroll—he’s never been one for unnecessary chatter. But his sharp eyes track every step you take, scanning you for even the slightest sign of discomfort.
“Stop pushing yourself,” he orders when you quicken your pace, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“You’re such a control freak,” you tease, trying to coax a reaction out of him.
His lips twitch, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through his usual scowl. “Someone has to keep you in line.”
Despite his gruff demeanor, there’s a strange comfort in his presence. He doesn’t fill the silence with platitudes or false cheer—he just is, his calm steadiness grounding you in a way nothing else can.
When the walk ends, and he’s escorting you back to your room, he slows, his voice softer now. “If you feel worse later, tell me. Don’t wait until morning rounds.”
“Do you always go this far for your patients?” you ask, half-joking.
He gives you a sidelong glance, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “No,” he says simply. “I don’t.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you wondering if you imagined the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he walked away.
doctor!law who doesn’t entertain nonsense. That’s the image he maintains in the hospital’s halls and the workers’ lounge. The moment someone brings up the whispers about him and his favorite patient, he scoffs, eyes narrowing as if the very idea irritates him.
“Ridiculous,” he mutters, flipping a page in the medical journal he’s not really reading.
But when no one’s looking, his ears strain to catch the next part of the conversation.
“Did you see how he was walking with them in the courtyard yesterday? They looked so comfortable together,” one nurse says, voice filled with barely contained glee.
Another one chimes in, “Right? And the way he always stays late in their room? If that’s not a crush, I don’t know what is.”
Law’s fingers tighten around the edges of his book, his lips pressing into a thin line. Anyone watching would think he’s annoyed—but the faint flush creeping up his neck tells a different story.
“I’m sure they’re just being professional,” someone offers cautiously, only for another nurse to laugh. “Oh, please. That man has never gone out of his way for anyone like he does for them. He practically lives in their room.”
Law clears his throat loudly, snapping the room’s attention back to him. “If you have time to gossip, you have time to work,” he says, his tone sharp enough to cut through the air.
The nurses scatter, muttering apologies, and he goes back to pretending to read. But later, when he’s alone, he catches himself smirking faintly, replaying the words in his head.
He tells himself it’s absurd, that people are just reading too much into things. Yet, when he sees you later that evening and you joke about the “rumors,” he doesn’t deny them outright.
Instead, he leans against the doorframe of your room, arms crossed, a teasing glint in his amber eyes. “Apparently, I’m the topic of the day in the lounge. Care to explain why everyone thinks I’m obsessed with you?”
You raise a brow, smirking. “Maybe because you kind of are?”
He scoffs, though the tips of his ears turn red. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. If I’m here, it’s because you’re clearly a magnet for trouble. Someone has to keep you in check.”
But when he catches a glimpse of your smile and hears your laughter, he thinks, Maybe they’re not entirely wrong.
#one piece#one piece x reader#trafalgar law#law x reader#law fluff#one piece x you#fluff#straw hat pirates#op headcanons#one piece fluff#law headcanons#becertainlust
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Sweet like Candy | Shin Asakura
synopsis: it's finally a day off and shin knows just how he wants to spend it.
warning: smut
Shin's touch was unhurried but deliberate. His cool fingers skimmed over your stomach, sending ripples of anticipation through your body. He paused, his gaze locking onto yours, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, as though you weren’t already melting under his attention.
His hand slid higher, brushing the fabric of your bra before slipping around to the clasp. With practiced ease, he unhooked it, the corners of his mouth quirking up at your sharp inhale. "Easy, see?" he teased, his fingers bunching up your shirt further, baring your skin to the chilled air.
He didn’t rush. Instead, his eyes swept over you. His warm palm flattened against your back, pulling you closer as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear. "You're tense," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, laced with just enough heat to make your breath hitch. His fingers grazed the edge of the now-loose fabric, his movements deliberate, almost lazy, as though savoring every second.
"You always this jumpy, or is it just me?" he asked, his smirk audible in his tone. His touch paused, fingertips tracing idle patterns on your bare skin, sending a shiver rippling through your body.
Your fingers twitched against his chest before you slid them up, threading them into his hair. "Maybe if you stopped playing, you’d find out," you whispered, voice softer than you intended.
His breath hitched for just a second—just long enough for you to catch it—before his grip on your hips tightened. His smile returned, something innocent but also far from.
When his fingers hooked into the band of your underwear, he paused—just long enough for you to register the way your body leaned into him. Then, with agonizing patience, he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just along the lace trim, his lips barely there, yet enough to make your stomach tighten.
Shin chuckled against your skin, the warmth of his breath making you shiver. "Oh? That so?" he mused, fingers tightening against your hips. His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something darker, something intrigued.
You barely had time to process it before he moved again, his lips trailing lower, just brushing against the delicate lace. His fingers dragged along your sides, slow and intentional, his touch barely there but enough to make every nerve in your body stand at attention.
"You're impatient," he murmured, lips curving against your hip. "Cute."
Your breath hitched as he pressed another kiss, firmer this time, his fingers slipping just beneath the waistband of your underwear. He wasn’t in any rush—his movements calculated, drinking in every reaction you gave him. The anticipation made your skin tingle, heat curling in your stomach.
Your fingers tightened in his hair, a silent plea, but he only hummed, amused at your desperation. His other hand traced up your thigh, his touch featherlight, coaxing another shiver out of you.
"You want me to stop playing?" he mused, finally lifting his head, locking eyes with you. His gaze was heavy, burning, his smirk still in place but his expression unreadable. He studied you for a moment, watching the way your chest rose and fell, the way your lips parted like you wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Shin’s smirk deepened as he traced slow, deliberate circles against your hip, his breath warm as he pressed lazy kisses along the inside of your thigh. Every touch, every lingering kiss, was meant to unravel you, to pull you apart thread by thread.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice smooth, teasing, but with a glint of something darker beneath it. His lips ghosted over your skin, his fingers tightening just slightly.
You swallowed hard, heat curling in your stomach as your fingers threaded into his hair. “Maybe if you stopped stalling, you’d find out,” you whispered, the words coming out shakier than you intended.
Shin chuckled, his breath warm against your bare skin. “Oh? You think you’re in charge here?” His fingers skimmed the inside of your thigh, featherlight, teasing. “That’s cute.”
Then, without another word, his mouth found you.
The first stroke of his tongue was slow—exploratory—like he was committing your taste to memory. He hummed in approval, the vibrations sending a sharp pulse of pleasure through you. He muttered, the words muffled against you, spoken like a man savoring a forbidden indulgence.
Your breath hitched as he deepened his movements, his lips wrapping around you with a deliberate slowness that sent sparks up your spine. He worked methodically, savoring each reaction, every gasp, every sharp inhale. He wanted you undone.
Your fingers tightened in his hair, a silent plea, but he only smirked against you. “What’s wrong?” he teased, pausing just long enough to glance up at you. His eyes were dark, glinting with satisfaction. “You were so mouthy a second ago.”
You let out a breathless laugh, trying to regain some semblance of control, but it shattered the second he flicked his tongue just right. A broken moan slipped from your lips, your back arching involuntarily.
Shin groaned softly, gripping your thighs as he pinned you in place. He dragged his tongue flat against you, his tongue and lips working in perfect tandem, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Every sound you made, every twitch of your body, he responded to effortlessly, like he knew exactly how to unravel you.
Your breathing grew ragged, your thighs shaking as pleasure coiled tight in your core. “Shin—”
He lifted his head just slightly, his lips glistening, his expression nothing short of triumphant. “How you feeling,” he coaxed
Your fingers curled in the sheets, the pleasure teetering on the edge of unbearable. “Please—”
That was all he needed.
With one last, devastating stroke of his tongue, the tension snapped, white-hot pleasure crashing over you in waves. He held you steady, his hands gripping your hips as he worked you through it, his pace never faltering until you were left breathless and trembling beneath him.
"fuck-k" you gripped his arm, squirming in his hold. "S' too much" you cooed small trembles in your thighs as you tried to close them.
Only then did he finally pull away, his lips curving into that signature smirk, but this time, there was something softer beneath it—something proud, satisfied. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then leaned over you, his breath still uneven as he captured your lips in a slow, deep kiss.
#becertainlust#sakamoto days x reader#shin asakura#smut#shin x you#shin x reader#shin asakura x reader#Sakamoto days smut
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bestfriend!sabo who swears he sees you as nothing more than a good friend. A best friend, joined by hip, and all that falls under that spectrum but others never picked up on the friend part.
You were across the clearing, laughing at something Koala said, and Sabo could feel the corners of his lips tugging upward, unbidden. It wasn’t unusual—he always found himself smiling when you were happy. But this time, it was Koala’s teasing words that pulled him out of his thoughts.
“You’re staring again,” she whispered, elbowing him in the side.
Sabo startled, his usual composure slipping for a fraction of a second. “I’m not staring,” he said quickly, his voice just a little too defensive. “I’m just—keeping an eye out. You know how clumsy she can be.”
Koala raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure. That’s why you’ve got that dopey grin on your face.”
Before Sabo could retort, you called out his name, waving him over with that bright, carefree smile that always seemed to disarm him. He stood up quickly—too quickly—and tried to ignore the way his palms had started sweating.
“Yeah? What’s up?” he asked as he approached, slipping into his usual casual tone, though his heart was pounding in his chest.
“I need help tying this bandage,” you said, holding up your arm. It wasn’t a serious wound, just a scrape from earlier training, but the way you looked at him—trusting, unguarded—made his throat go dry.
Sabo nodded, stepping closer. “No problem,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. He took your arm gently, his fingers brushing against your skin.
For a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. He was hyper-aware of how close you were, the scent of your shampoo, the warmth of your skin. He tied the bandage carefully, slower than necessary, and when he finished, he lingered for a second too long before pulling his hands back.
“Thanks, Sabo,” you said, your smile soft and genuine.
“Anytime,” he replied, his voice quieter than usual. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping to hide the way they trembled.
As you turned back to Koala, Sabo caught himself staring again. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Just friends. That’s all we are.”
But the flutter in his chest told a different story.
bestfriend!sabo who doesn't realize when he is jealous yet shows clear signs. It started subtly, like the crackle of a spark before a wildfire.
You were laughing with Haruto again, your head tilted back and your whole face lit up. Sabo’s eyes lingered, drawn in as they always were, but his usual quiet admiration was edged with something sharp, something he couldn’t quite name.
“Are you even listening?” Koala’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he blinked, realizing she’d been talking to him this whole time.
“Of course,” he replied automatically, though his tone lacked its usual easy charm.
Koala followed his line of sight, a knowing grin spreading across her face. “Right. So, you’re not currently plotting Haruto’s untimely disappearance?”
Sabo frowned, rolling his eyes as if the idea was absurd. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, though his hand tightened around the edge of the table he was leaning on. “He’s new. Someone’s gotta make sure he doesn’t screw things up.”
Koala raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And this sudden hypervigilance has nothing to do with the fact that he’s making her laugh?”
“Her laugh has nothing to do with it,” he shot back, but his words were clipped, lacking their usual carefree rhythm. “I just think he should be working harder instead of standing around flirting.”
Koala snorted. “Right. Because you’re the authority on work-life balance. You spent twenty minutes this morning balancing your pen on your nose.”
“That was stress relief,” Sabo retorted, but his gaze flicked back to you, his composure fraying.
Haruto leaned closer to you, and that spark in Sabo’s chest flared. Before he knew what he was doing, he was already walking toward you, his boots crunching against the gravel.
You noticed him immediately, as you always did, your face lighting up with that smile that had a habit of turning his thoughts into static. “Hey, Sabo! What’s up?”
“Haruto,” Sabo said, his tone as smooth as silk but his eyes like flint. “Didn’t you mention needing to go over the roster with Hack? He’s been looking for you.”
Haruto blinked, clearly taken off guard. “Oh, uh… I guess I should—”
“Yeah, you should,” Sabo interrupted, the edge in his voice unmistakable.
Haruto hesitated for a moment before nodding awkwardly and excusing himself, leaving you standing there with an amused tilt to your head.
“Was that really necessary?” you asked, crossing your arms and fixing him with a look that was equal parts curiosity and exasperation.
“Just doing my job,” Sabo said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Can’t have the new guy slacking off.”
“Right,” you said, drawing the word out. “Because you’re always this strict with new recruits.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but the way your eyes sparkled with amusement threw him off balance. He sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I overreacted. A little.”
“A little?” you echoed, stepping closer. “Sabo, you were practically bristling.”
He laughed lightly, but it lacked his usual confidence. “I just didn’t like the way he was acting so familiar with you. That’s all.”
“And why does that bother you?” you pressed, your tone teasing but gentle, like you already knew the answer.
Sabo faltered, his usual quick wit failing him. He looked at you, the way your brows arched in question, the way your lips curled into a small, knowing smile, and he felt like he was standing on a precipice.
“I don’t know,” he muttered finally, though even he didn’t believe it.
Your smile softened, and you reached out, nudging his shoulder. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
“Am I?” he said, forcing a grin to cover the heat creeping up his neck.
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter now. “But I like that about you.”
The words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Sabo was left speechless, staring at you like he was seeing you for the first time.
Koala’s voice called out from across the camp, snapping him back to reality. He cleared his throat, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets again.
“I’ve got work to do,” he said, his tone a little too brisk as he turned on his heel. “Stay out of trouble.”
You watched him go, a small smile playing on your lips. And as Sabo walked away, he realized he couldn’t shake the quiet, nagging thought that maybe—just maybe—he was in deeper than he’d ever intended.
bestfriend!sabo who postpones his confession every time, settling with a fear of ruining your friendships.
Sabo watched from a distance as you moved through the camp, always surrounded by people. You were the one who gave advice when someone needed it, the one who patched up a scraped knee or shared a smile with a tired recruit. Everyone admired you—hell, even Sabo found himself caught up in your warmth sometimes, when you weren’t looking.
But lately, it felt like you were slipping further away from him.
"Hey, Sabo!" You waved as you passed him, your smile as bright as ever. He didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled as you chatted with the others. You were always so kind, so busy with your endless list of responsibilities. It was like the world had discovered how incredible you were, and now everyone wanted a piece of you.
“Busy?” he asked, his tone light, though there was a slight heaviness to it as he watched you interact with yet another group of people.
You paused, looking guilty for a second. "I wish I could stay and hang out, but you know how it is. There’s always something that needs my attention.”
He nodded, smiling back even though a part of him twisted with the unspoken words he kept swallowing. “I get it. Don’t let me keep you.”
You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes this time, as though you knew there was something he wasn’t saying. “I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”
“Sure,” he said, his voice a little quieter than usual. As you moved on, Sabo stood there, rooted in place, watching you disappear into another conversation. The lump in his throat felt heavier.
He always told himself the same thing.
Not yet. Not now. Wait for the right moment.
But the right moment never seemed to come.
Days passed like this—long stretches where he could hardly find a moment with you alone. You were everywhere, helping others, being kind and thoughtful, making people laugh, lifting their spirits. You were always giving, always there, and Sabo adored you for it. But now, with every shared smile and every lingering conversation with others, he felt his chance slipping further away.
Sabo didn’t want to admit it, but he feared that if he told you how he felt, it would change everything. What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if she starts pulling away because of it?
And then there was the fear of losing his best friend. What if this was just a temporary feeling? What if, after the confession, things felt awkward and strained? He could never let that happen. Not with you.
Still, it gnawed at him. Every time you laughed with someone else, every time you looked so busy that you didn’t have a moment for him, it felt like something was slipping through his fingers.
One evening, after a long day of training, Sabo found you alone by the campfire, the crackling flames casting a soft glow on your face. You looked peaceful, wrapped up in the warmth of the fire, your eyes half-closed as if you were trying to rest.
Sabo hesitated as he stood at the edge of the firelight, his heart pounding. This was it.
“Hey,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady.
You turned to him, that familiar, welcoming smile spreading across your face. “Hey, Sabo. You doing alright?”
He stepped forward, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Yeah, just… thinking about things.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” you noted, your tone teasing but there was a softness in it too, like you noticed more than he realized.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he simply nodded, taking a seat beside you by the fire.
For a long moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the crackling fire the only sound between you.
“Things have been busy, huh?” Sabo said, finally breaking the quiet.
“Yeah,” you agreed with a sigh, staring into the flames. “I feel like I barely have time for anyone anymore.”
“You don’t even have time for me anymore,” Sabo joked, though there was an edge to his words he couldn’t hide.
You looked at him, your brow furrowing in concern. “Sabo, I—”
He raised a hand quickly, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I get it. I'm happy that your getting the recognition you deserve it.” His smile was faint, almost apologetic, as if he was trying to brush it off.
But you didn’t let him. You leaned closer, your voice soft. “Thank you punk, and I’m never too busy for you. I’ll always make time for you, Sabo. You know that.”
Your words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, caught off guard.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know. I just… I guess I miss us, you know? Things were simpler when it was just the two of us. Before everyone else started needing you.”
You tilted your head, studying him with that soft, understanding gaze. “You still have me, Sabo. Nothing’s changed.”
He forced a smile, but his heart felt heavy in his chest. He wanted so badly to believe you—wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much more you meant than just a friend—but the fear of ruining it all made his throat close.
“I know,” he muttered. “It’s just… things are different now.”
You reached out, nudging his shoulder with yours. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
Sabo nodded, swallowing the words he wanted to say. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next time. its fine.
bestfriend!sabo who allowed for the crazies to take over his mind. The days had started to blur together for Sabo. The more he tried to ignore it, the more the tension between you two grew. He could feel it every time you were near—how his heart raced a little faster when your fingers brushed just for you to pass, how the sound of your laughter made him ache.
For weeks now, he had been pushing down the words, burying them as deep as he could. He convinced himself that it was nothing—that it was just some passing phase or a product of their shared long hours spent together. But the longer he ignored it, the more it ate away at him, gnawing at his insides until he couldn’t bear to be around you without feeling suffocated by his own emotions.
And so, he started to pull away.
It started small—a little more space between the two of you during conversations, a slight distance when you would sit together by the campfire or share those moments where you were once inseparable. The subtle shifts didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you didn’t say anything right away.
You didn’t have to. You saw it in his eyes—the way they would briefly glance away every time your hand brushed against his, the way his voice held an unnatural edge when he spoke to you, even though his words were still casual.
It hurt, but you couldn’t understand why he was doing this. You’d always been there for each other, the best of friends, so why was he pushing you away now? What had changed?
Sabo sat alone that evening on a secluded hill overlooking the camp. The quiet of the night surrounded him, but it didn’t bring him the usual peace. His thoughts were like a storm—chaotic, tumbling over themselves, and it was hard to find a way out.
Maybe it’s better this way, he told himself, his fingers gripping the edge of his jacket tightly. If I just stay distant, keep my distance… Maybe this feeling will go away. Maybe I can just be the friend she needs, nothing more. She deserves someone who can be more than that, someone who’s not afraid of ruining everything.
But the more he told himself that, the more his chest tightened. He was so used to hiding his emotions behind sarcasm and teasing, but this—this was different.
He heard footsteps behind him before he saw you, and he stiffened, not wanting you to see the way his hands trembled at his sides.
"Sabo," you said softly, your voice cutting through the night air. "We need to talk."
He turned to look at you, but his eyes were guarded, his usual cocky demeanor nowhere to be found. He forced a smile, trying to act like everything was normal. "Talk about what?"
"You’ve been avoiding me," you said, your eyes searching his face for any trace of the old Sabo, the one who had never needed to put up walls. "You’re distancing yourself, and I don’t get it. What’s going on?"
His heart hammered in his chest. This was it. The moment he’d been trying to avoid. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the confusion, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it—not when it could tear everything apart.
"I just… I’ve been busy," Sabo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was a lie. You both knew it was. "You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about me."
Your gaze softened, but there was still a trace of disbelief. "Sabo, I know you. And I know something’s been off. Don’t lie to me. I can take it."
He looked away, his hands clenched into fists in his lap. "It’s just that… I can’t keep doing this."
You stepped closer, your concern deepening. "Doing what?"
"This," he said, the words coming out harsh, though he wasn’t sure where the anger was coming from. "This… whatever this is. I can’t just keep pretending like I don’t feel something every time you’re near me, every time you smile, every time you laugh. But it’s not right, alright? You’re too important to me. I can’t risk losing that."
The confession hung between you both, the weight of it settling over him like a suffocating cloud. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself, but his voice cracked, his resolve breaking in the face of his own truth.
You stood frozen, staring at him. The pieces started to come together, and as they did, it felt like everything made sense—the way he’d pulled back, the way he kept putting space between you, the way he had been hiding behind false smiles and forced conversations.
"Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" you asked, your voice a mixture of frustration and hurt.
Sabo opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t find them. How could he explain this? How could he explain how much he cared for you without ruining the one thing that had always kept him tethered to you? The one thing that had always made him feel safe.
"I didn’t want to ruin everything," he whispered. "I didn’t want to lose you."
And then, before he could stop himself, the flood of emotions he had been holding back for so long spilled out. He stood and faced you, his eyes intense, but there was vulnerability in them that you rarely saw. "I thought if I stayed away, if I made it easier for both of us, maybe I could forget… maybe I could stop caring like I do. But I can’t. I love you."
You blinked in shock, your breath catching.
Sabo’s heart twisted in fear. "I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to ruin us."
For a long, excruciating moment, you said nothing. you really tried. But then you stepped forward, your fingers lightly touching his wrist, grounding him.
"You’re not going to lose me, Sabo," you said quietly, the softness in your voice breaking through his fears. you cup his face to look at you brushing under his eyes "and you were not going to ruin us."
And before he could even process what was happening, you pulled him to you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. Sabo’s breath hitched, his entire body melting into your own touch.
The kiss was everything he had been holding back for so long and more—urgent, fierce, and full of an aching kind of need that Sabo had never allowed himself to feel before. His mind was racing, but the only thing that mattered in that moment was the way your soft lips pressed against his. His chest tightened as he pulled you closer, his hands trembling a bit.
The kiss deepened almost instinctively, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that surprised even him. Every inch of him seemed to burn with the realization that this was real. The days that felt like years of keeping his feelings locked away, of pretending he didn't care in ways deeper than just friends, were gone. There was only you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Sabo couldn’t help but let out a small, breathless laugh against your lips. His hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer.
"Thank you" he murmured before dusting your face in kisses leaving you to giggle under his hold.
#one piece#sabo x reader#sabo fanart#sabo x you#sabo fluff#fanfic#becertainlust#one piece x you#straw hat pirates#one piece x reader#one piece headcanons
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@becertainlust youre litterally my go to one piece writer right now💗
bestfriend!sabo who swears he sees you as nothing more than a good friend. A best friend, joined by hip, and all that falls under that spectrum but others never picked up on the friend part.
You were across the clearing, laughing at something Koala said, and Sabo could feel the corners of his lips tugging upward, unbidden. It wasn’t unusual—he always found himself smiling when you were happy. But this time, it was Koala’s teasing words that pulled him out of his thoughts.
“You’re staring again,” she whispered, elbowing him in the side.
Sabo startled, his usual composure slipping for a fraction of a second. “I’m not staring,” he said quickly, his voice just a little too defensive. “I’m just—keeping an eye out. You know how clumsy she can be.”
Koala raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure. That’s why you’ve got that dopey grin on your face.”
Before Sabo could retort, you called out his name, waving him over with that bright, carefree smile that always seemed to disarm him. He stood up quickly—too quickly—and tried to ignore the way his palms had started sweating.
“Yeah? What’s up?” he asked as he approached, slipping into his usual casual tone, though his heart was pounding in his chest.
“I need help tying this bandage,” you said, holding up your arm. It wasn’t a serious wound, just a scrape from earlier training, but the way you looked at him—trusting, unguarded—made his throat go dry.
Sabo nodded, stepping closer. “No problem,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt. He took your arm gently, his fingers brushing against your skin.
For a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. He was hyper-aware of how close you were, the scent of your shampoo, the warmth of your skin. He tied the bandage carefully, slower than necessary, and when he finished, he lingered for a second too long before pulling his hands back.
“Thanks, Sabo,” you said, your smile soft and genuine.
“Anytime,” he replied, his voice quieter than usual. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping to hide the way they trembled.
As you turned back to Koala, Sabo caught himself staring again. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Just friends. That’s all we are.”
But the flutter in his chest told a different story.
bestfriend!sabo who doesn't realize when he is jealous yet shows clear signs. It started subtly, like the crackle of a spark before a wildfire.
You were laughing with Haruto again, your head tilted back and your whole face lit up. Sabo’s eyes lingered, drawn in as they always were, but his usual quiet admiration was edged with something sharp, something he couldn’t quite name.
“Are you even listening?” Koala’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he blinked, realizing she’d been talking to him this whole time.
“Of course,” he replied automatically, though his tone lacked its usual easy charm.
Koala followed his line of sight, a knowing grin spreading across her face. “Right. So, you’re not currently plotting Haruto’s untimely disappearance?”
Sabo frowned, rolling his eyes as if the idea was absurd. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, though his hand tightened around the edge of the table he was leaning on. “He’s new. Someone’s gotta make sure he doesn’t screw things up.”
Koala raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And this sudden hypervigilance has nothing to do with the fact that he’s making her laugh?”
“Her laugh has nothing to do with it,” he shot back, but his words were clipped, lacking their usual carefree rhythm. “I just think he should be working harder instead of standing around flirting.”
Koala snorted. “Right. Because you’re the authority on work-life balance. You spent twenty minutes this morning balancing your pen on your nose.”
“That was stress relief,” Sabo retorted, but his gaze flicked back to you, his composure fraying.
Haruto leaned closer to you, and that spark in Sabo’s chest flared. Before he knew what he was doing, he was already walking toward you, his boots crunching against the gravel.
You noticed him immediately, as you always did, your face lighting up with that smile that had a habit of turning his thoughts into static. “Hey, Sabo! What’s up?”
“Haruto,” Sabo said, his tone as smooth as silk but his eyes like flint. “Didn’t you mention needing to go over the roster with Hack? He’s been looking for you.”
Haruto blinked, clearly taken off guard. “Oh, uh… I guess I should—”
“Yeah, you should,” Sabo interrupted, the edge in his voice unmistakable.
Haruto hesitated for a moment before nodding awkwardly and excusing himself, leaving you standing there with an amused tilt to your head.
“Was that really necessary?” you asked, crossing your arms and fixing him with a look that was equal parts curiosity and exasperation.
“Just doing my job,” Sabo said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Can’t have the new guy slacking off.”
“Right,” you said, drawing the word out. “Because you’re always this strict with new recruits.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but the way your eyes sparkled with amusement threw him off balance. He sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I overreacted. A little.”
“A little?” you echoed, stepping closer. “Sabo, you were practically bristling.”
He laughed lightly, but it lacked his usual confidence. “I just didn’t like the way he was acting so familiar with you. That’s all.”
“And why does that bother you?” you pressed, your tone teasing but gentle, like you already knew the answer.
Sabo faltered, his usual quick wit failing him. He looked at you, the way your brows arched in question, the way your lips curled into a small, knowing smile, and he felt like he was standing on a precipice.
“I don’t know,” he muttered finally, though even he didn’t believe it.
Your smile softened, and you reached out, nudging his shoulder. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
“Am I?” he said, forcing a grin to cover the heat creeping up his neck.
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter now. “But I like that about you.”
The words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Sabo was left speechless, staring at you like he was seeing you for the first time.
Koala’s voice called out from across the camp, snapping him back to reality. He cleared his throat, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets again.
“I’ve got work to do,” he said, his tone a little too brisk as he turned on his heel. “Stay out of trouble.”
You watched him go, a small smile playing on your lips. And as Sabo walked away, he realized he couldn’t shake the quiet, nagging thought that maybe—just maybe—he was in deeper than he’d ever intended.
bestfriend!sabo who postpones his confession every time, settling with a fear of ruining your friendships.
Sabo watched from a distance as you moved through the camp, always surrounded by people. You were the one who gave advice when someone needed it, the one who patched up a scraped knee or shared a smile with a tired recruit. Everyone admired you—hell, even Sabo found himself caught up in your warmth sometimes, when you weren’t looking.
But lately, it felt like you were slipping further away from him.
"Hey, Sabo!" You waved as you passed him, your smile as bright as ever. He didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled as you chatted with the others. You were always so kind, so busy with your endless list of responsibilities. It was like the world had discovered how incredible you were, and now everyone wanted a piece of you.
“Busy?” he asked, his tone light, though there was a slight heaviness to it as he watched you interact with yet another group of people.
You paused, looking guilty for a second. "I wish I could stay and hang out, but you know how it is. There’s always something that needs my attention.”
He nodded, smiling back even though a part of him twisted with the unspoken words he kept swallowing. “I get it. Don’t let me keep you.”
You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes this time, as though you knew there was something he wasn’t saying. “I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”
“Sure,” he said, his voice a little quieter than usual. As you moved on, Sabo stood there, rooted in place, watching you disappear into another conversation. The lump in his throat felt heavier.
He always told himself the same thing.
Not yet. Not now. Wait for the right moment.
But the right moment never seemed to come.
Days passed like this—long stretches where he could hardly find a moment with you alone. You were everywhere, helping others, being kind and thoughtful, making people laugh, lifting their spirits. You were always giving, always there, and Sabo adored you for it. But now, with every shared smile and every lingering conversation with others, he felt his chance slipping further away.
Sabo didn’t want to admit it, but he feared that if he told you how he felt, it would change everything. What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if she starts pulling away because of it?
And then there was the fear of losing his best friend. What if this was just a temporary feeling? What if, after the confession, things felt awkward and strained? He could never let that happen. Not with you.
Still, it gnawed at him. Every time you laughed with someone else, every time you looked so busy that you didn’t have a moment for him, it felt like something was slipping through his fingers.
One evening, after a long day of training, Sabo found you alone by the campfire, the crackling flames casting a soft glow on your face. You looked peaceful, wrapped up in the warmth of the fire, your eyes half-closed as if you were trying to rest.
Sabo hesitated as he stood at the edge of the firelight, his heart pounding. This was it.
“Hey,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady.
You turned to him, that familiar, welcoming smile spreading across your face. “Hey, Sabo. You doing alright?”
He stepped forward, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Yeah, just… thinking about things.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” you noted, your tone teasing but there was a softness in it too, like you noticed more than he realized.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he simply nodded, taking a seat beside you by the fire.
For a long moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the crackling fire the only sound between you.
“Things have been busy, huh?” Sabo said, finally breaking the quiet.
“Yeah,” you agreed with a sigh, staring into the flames. “I feel like I barely have time for anyone anymore.”
“You don’t even have time for me anymore,” Sabo joked, though there was an edge to his words he couldn’t hide.
You looked at him, your brow furrowing in concern. “Sabo, I—”
He raised a hand quickly, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I get it. I'm happy that your getting the recognition you deserve it.” His smile was faint, almost apologetic, as if he was trying to brush it off.
But you didn’t let him. You leaned closer, your voice soft. “Thank you punk, and I’m never too busy for you. I’ll always make time for you, Sabo. You know that.”
Your words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, caught off guard.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know. I just… I guess I miss us, you know? Things were simpler when it was just the two of us. Before everyone else started needing you.”
You tilted your head, studying him with that soft, understanding gaze. “You still have me, Sabo. Nothing’s changed.”
He forced a smile, but his heart felt heavy in his chest. He wanted so badly to believe you—wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much more you meant than just a friend—but the fear of ruining it all made his throat close.
“I know,” he muttered. “It’s just… things are different now.”
You reached out, nudging his shoulder with yours. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
Sabo nodded, swallowing the words he wanted to say. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next time. its fine.
bestfriend!sabo who allowed for the crazies to take over his mind. The days had started to blur together for Sabo. The more he tried to ignore it, the more the tension between you two grew. He could feel it every time you were near—how his heart raced a little faster when your fingers brushed just for you to pass, how the sound of your laughter made him ache.
For weeks now, he had been pushing down the words, burying them as deep as he could. He convinced himself that it was nothing—that it was just some passing phase or a product of their shared long hours spent together. But the longer he ignored it, the more it ate away at him, gnawing at his insides until he couldn’t bear to be around you without feeling suffocated by his own emotions.
And so, he started to pull away.
It started small—a little more space between the two of you during conversations, a slight distance when you would sit together by the campfire or share those moments where you were once inseparable. The subtle shifts didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you didn’t say anything right away.
You didn’t have to. You saw it in his eyes—the way they would briefly glance away every time your hand brushed against his, the way his voice held an unnatural edge when he spoke to you, even though his words were still casual.
It hurt, but you couldn’t understand why he was doing this. You’d always been there for each other, the best of friends, so why was he pushing you away now? What had changed?
Sabo sat alone that evening on a secluded hill overlooking the camp. The quiet of the night surrounded him, but it didn’t bring him the usual peace. His thoughts were like a storm—chaotic, tumbling over themselves, and it was hard to find a way out.
Maybe it’s better this way, he told himself, his fingers gripping the edge of his jacket tightly. If I just stay distant, keep my distance… Maybe this feeling will go away. Maybe I can just be the friend she needs, nothing more. She deserves someone who can be more than that, someone who’s not afraid of ruining everything.
But the more he told himself that, the more his chest tightened. He was so used to hiding his emotions behind sarcasm and teasing, but this—this was different.
He heard footsteps behind him before he saw you, and he stiffened, not wanting you to see the way his hands trembled at his sides.
"Sabo," you said softly, your voice cutting through the night air. "We need to talk."
He turned to look at you, but his eyes were guarded, his usual cocky demeanor nowhere to be found. He forced a smile, trying to act like everything was normal. "Talk about what?"
"You’ve been avoiding me," you said, your eyes searching his face for any trace of the old Sabo, the one who had never needed to put up walls. "You’re distancing yourself, and I don’t get it. What’s going on?"
His heart hammered in his chest. This was it. The moment he’d been trying to avoid. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the confusion, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it—not when it could tear everything apart.
"I just… I’ve been busy," Sabo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was a lie. You both knew it was. "You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about me."
Your gaze softened, but there was still a trace of disbelief. "Sabo, I know you. And I know something’s been off. Don’t lie to me. I can take it."
He looked away, his hands clenched into fists in his lap. "It’s just that… I can’t keep doing this."
You stepped closer, your concern deepening. "Doing what?"
"This," he said, the words coming out harsh, though he wasn’t sure where the anger was coming from. "This… whatever this is. I can’t just keep pretending like I don’t feel something every time you’re near me, every time you smile, every time you laugh. But it’s not right, alright? You’re too important to me. I can’t risk losing that."
The confession hung between you both, the weight of it settling over him like a suffocating cloud. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself, but his voice cracked, his resolve breaking in the face of his own truth.
You stood frozen, staring at him. The pieces started to come together, and as they did, it felt like everything made sense—the way he’d pulled back, the way he kept putting space between you, the way he had been hiding behind false smiles and forced conversations.
"Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" you asked, your voice a mixture of frustration and hurt.
Sabo opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t find them. How could he explain this? How could he explain how much he cared for you without ruining the one thing that had always kept him tethered to you? The one thing that had always made him feel safe.
"I didn’t want to ruin everything," he whispered. "I didn’t want to lose you."
And then, before he could stop himself, the flood of emotions he had been holding back for so long spilled out. He stood and faced you, his eyes intense, but there was vulnerability in them that you rarely saw. "I thought if I stayed away, if I made it easier for both of us, maybe I could forget… maybe I could stop caring like I do. But I can’t. I love you."
You blinked in shock, your breath catching.
Sabo’s heart twisted in fear. "I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to ruin us."
For a long, excruciating moment, you said nothing. you really tried. But then you stepped forward, your fingers lightly touching his wrist, grounding him.
"You’re not going to lose me, Sabo," you said quietly, the softness in your voice breaking through his fears. you cup his face to look at you brushing under his eyes "and you were not going to ruin us."
And before he could even process what was happening, you pulled him to you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. Sabo’s breath hitched, his entire body melting into your own touch.
The kiss was everything he had been holding back for so long and more—urgent, fierce, and full of an aching kind of need that Sabo had never allowed himself to feel before. His mind was racing, but the only thing that mattered in that moment was the way your soft lips pressed against his. His chest tightened as he pulled you closer, his hands trembling a bit.
The kiss deepened almost instinctively, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that surprised even him. Every inch of him seemed to burn with the realization that this was real. The days that felt like years of keeping his feelings locked away, of pretending he didn't care in ways deeper than just friends, were gone. There was only you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Sabo couldn’t help but let out a small, breathless laugh against your lips. His hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer.
"Thank you" he murmured before dusting your face in kisses leaving you to giggle under his hold.
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