Editing On My Phone Is Actually So Comical When I Have To Save Every Two Seconds

Sal Fisher X Reader

₊✩‧₊ Stupid Beautiful Boy ₊‧✩₊

Another little drabble to satiate joining this fandom too late (like 3 years ago)

Masterlist

SYNOPSIS: one particularly incriminating sleep talking confession, Sal finds himself facing a much bigger challenge than a mosh pit: figuring out whether his best friend has been driving him crazy in more ways than one.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Sal fumbles with his keys, trying to unlock the door while still buzzing from the concert. “I think I still have someone else’s sweat on me,” he mutters, his voice muffled behind his mask.

You groan, pulling your sticky shirt away from your skin. “Yeah, well, I think I got elbowed in the ribs at least twice, so we’re both suffering.”

The door finally swings open, and you both step inside his apartment, kicking off your shoes with exhausted sighs. The air conditioning is a blessed relief against your overheated skin, and you tilt your head back, basking in the coolness.

Sal drags a hand through his damp blue hair. “I’m calling dibs on the shower.”

“No way,” you protest immediately. “I suffered through that pit just as much as you did.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “You wanna flip a coin for it?”

You cross your arms. “Rock, paper, scissors.”

A tense moment passes as you both raise your fists, exhausted but committed.

“One, two, three”

You both throw rock.

A pause. Then again.

Scissors.

Again.

Paper.

Sal groans. “This is ridiculous.”

You grin. “C’mon, Sal. ill be quick”

He shakes his head with a small chuckle and sighs in defeat. “Fine. Go ahead, but don’t use all the hot water.”

You shoot him a victorious smile and grab some spare clothes from the bag you brought, making a beeline for the bathroom. As you shut the door behind you, you hear him flop onto the couch with a tired grunt.

The concert was amazing, but you both definitely underestimated how wrecked you’d be afterward.

Sal sinks further into the couch, exhaling a long, slow breath as the distant sound of running water fills the quiet apartment. His body still hums with the aftershocks of the concert his ears ringing faintly, muscles sore from jumping and shoving through the crowd. But he doesn’t mind. If anything, the exhaustion feels good, like proof of a night well spent.

He lifts a hand, staring at the faint smudges of marker and the slight bruising on his knuckles from who knows what. Probably from gripping the barricade too hard or shielding you when the crowd got too wild. His lips twitch slightly at the thought.

The whole night had been extreme in the best way screaming lyrics until his throat burned, shoving each other playfully when a favorite song came on, the way you grabbed his arm when the bass drop hit, eyes wide with exhilaration. He hadn’t let loose like that in a long time, but with you, it was easy. It always was.

His gaze drifts toward the bathroom door as a faint laugh escapes from inside, your voice muffled by the water. Probably replaying some dumb moment from the night. He finds himself smiling before he even realizes it.

You were his best friend. He knew that, but sometimes, like tonight, it hit him differently. In a way that made him stop and really appreciate it. How natural it was with you, how much fun you always managed to have together. Even when you were both dead on your feet, covered in sweat and bruises, you still managed to bicker over a shower like it was the most important thing in the world.

Sal shifts on the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. The exhaustion is settling in now, heavy but comfortable. The sound of the shower, the lingering echoes of the concert in his head, and the knowledge that, no matter how wrecked you both were, you’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Yeah. Tonight was a good night.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sal lets out a deep sigh as he sinks onto his bed, the tension in his muscles easing now that he’s fresh out of the shower. The warmth lingers on his skin, his damp hair clinging slightly to his neck as he leans back against the pillows. The night’s events still swirl in his mind the music, the energy of the crowd, the way you had grabbed his hand in excitement when the band played your favorite song. He huffs a quiet chuckle at the thought, shaking his head.

He’s never been the loudest person, never the one to take up too much space in a room, but somehow, with you, Larry, Ash, and Todd, things changed. The sharp edges of his solitude softened over time, replaced with sarcastic quips, easy laughter, and a quiet warmth he hadn’t realized he was missing. With you especially, it was different. You challenged him, teased him, and made life more interesting in ways he hadn’t expected.

He’s still lost in thought when something heavy slams into him.

His breath leaves him in a choked sound, and suddenly, he’s flat on his back, hands instinctively flying to steady whatever or whoever just tackled him.

“Boo!”

Sal barely has time to process what’s happening before his eyes snap up to meet yours. His heart slams against his ribs, not just from the jump scare but from the realization that you’re on top of him.

Straddling him.

Your weight is pressing into his lap, hands planted on either side of his chest as you grin down at him, absolutely reveling in his reaction. His fingers twitch where they’ve landed on your waist, the warmth of your skin seeping through your clothes and straight into his bloodstream.

“What the” His voice is rough, laced with disbelief as his pulse thrums wildly beneath his skin. He doesn’t stumble over his words he’s too used to your antics for that but there’s a tightness in his throat, a warmth creeping up the back of his neck.

You cackle, shifting your weight slightly, and his fingers tighten just slightly before he stops himself. He wills himself to stay still, to not react, but it’s so damn hard when you’re sitting on him like this, looking down at him with that mischievous glint in your eyes.

“You should’ve seen your reaction!” you tease, eyes alight with amusement. “I swear, you levitated for a second.”

Sal exhales sharply through his nose, willing his heart rate to slow. He doesn’t have a mirror, but he knows his ears are red. His mask thankfully hides most of his expression, but his body is betraying him in ways he can’t quite control.

“Seriously?” he mutters, voice edged with dry exasperation. “where did you even go?”

You shrug, still grinning. “a magician will never reveal her secrets”

He scoffs but doesn’t push you off. His hands are still resting on your waist, unmoving, like he’s afraid that if he does anything more, you’ll notice notice the way his breath is just slightly uneven, the way his heart is hammering in his chest in a way that has nothing to do with being startled.

“What? You didn’t miss me?” you tease, tilting your head.

Sal’s breath hitches, but he recovers quickly, rolling his eyes. “I was wondering where you went,” he admits, voice still steady despite the warmth creeping up his neck. “Didn’t expect you to attack me, though.”

“You’re fine,” you say dismissively, shifting again, and fuck. He clenches his jaw, forcing himself to stay still, but he knows you have to feel the way his hands flex at your sides.

You smirk down at him. “You’re pretty comfy, y’know.”

Sal narrows his eyes, his grip finally tightening not rough, just enough to remind you who exactly you’re messing with. “(Y/N),” he warns, voice low.

You snicker but finally roll off of him, flopping onto the bed beside him. He exhales, rubbing a hand down his head, trying to will away the warmth that refuses to leave his skin.

“I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters.

You nudge his shoulder, grinning. “Yeah, but you’d miss me if I wasn’t.”

Sal hesitates, staring at the ceiling for a moment. His chest feels tight in a way he can’t quite put into words.

“…Yeah,” he admits quietly. “I would.”

A comfortable silence settles between you as you lie next to Sal, the only sounds in the room being the distant hum of the apartment’s heating and the occasional rustle of the sheets as you shift to get comfortable. Sal is still staring at the ceiling, his fingers idly tapping against his stomach like he’s trying to ground himself after what just happened.

You smirk to yourself, still feeling victorious over your little sneak attack. He so wasn’t expecting that. But now that you’ve had your fun, exhaustion is creeping in, your body finally registering how wrecked you are from the concert.

Still, sleep doesn’t sound quite appealing yet.

You turn your head toward him, resting your cheek against his pillow. “Wanna put on some horror movies while we crash?”

Sal finally looks over at you, brow raising slightly. “Horror? Thought you’d be too tired to handle anything intense.”

You shrug. “I dunno, something about falling asleep to creepy background noise sounds nice.” You pause, then smirk. “Unless you’re scared.”

Sal scoffs, shaking his head. “You wish I was scared.” He shifts, reaching for the remote on his nightstand. “Fine, but if you pass out in the first twenty minutes, I’m making fun of you in the morning.”

“You act like that’s never happened before.”

He chuckles under his breath, scrolling through the streaming options before settling on something. The screen casts a dim glow across the room as the opening credits roll, shadows flickering across the walls. You settle deeper into the blankets, already feeling sleep tugging at you despite your earlier enthusiasm.

Sal glances over at you once more, taking in the way your eyes are half. lidded but still determined to stay awake. He shakes his head fondly before turning back to the screen.

Yeah, he’s not gonna admit it, but he kind of hopes you doze off first. It gives him an excuse to stay up just a little longer, just to make sure you’re comfortable.

The movie plays on, its eerie soundtrack weaving through the room like a distant hum. Sal can tell you’re barely holding on, your breathing slowing, body going lax against the mattress. He smirks slightly, shaking his head as he shifts to get more comfortable.

With a sigh, he reaches up and unhooks his prosthetic, placing it carefully on the nightstand. He always feels a little more exposed without it, even around you, despite the fact that you’ve seen his face before. He knows you don’t care hell, you’re probably one of the only people who never made him feel weird about it but still, old habits die hard.

He leans back, exhaling through his nose, but then he feels it your hand, soft and warm, ghosting over his cheek.

Sal stiffens slightly, his breath catching as your fingers trace the rough ridges of scar tissue, the parts of him he never liked showing. Your touch is slow, careful, almost reverent in your half asleep state. His pulse jumps, and he nearly pulls away out of instinct, but then.

“You’re my stupid, beautiful boy…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, thick with sleep, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone before your hand goes slack, slipping down as you fully drift off.

Sal just stares at you, frozen in place. His mind is blank, save for the echo of your words ringing in his ears. His heart is pounding now, hammering so hard he swears you’ll wake up and hear it.

You’re asleep. Completely gone. No teasing, no jokes just a sleepy, genuine thought slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

And it hits him harder than anything ever has.

Sal swallows thickly, blinking a few times before cautiously reaching up and gently moving your hand away from his face. Not because he wants to god, no but because if he lets you keep touching him like that, he might actually die from how much it’s messing with him.

He watches you for a moment, the way your breathing has evened out, your face relaxed in sleep. His chest feels tight, warm, conflicted. He doesn’t know what to do with what you just said, doesn’t know how to process it when he’s spent so long convincing himself that you…

He shakes his head to himself, exhaling as he settles back down. He’ll think about it later. Right now, you’re here, curled up beside him like you belong there, and that’s enough.

With one last glance at you, Sal closes his eyes, listening to the faint sounds of the movie and the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Her stupid, beautiful boy.

Yeah.

He’s doomed.

As the movie plays on, its low hum fading into the background, Sal’s mind isn’t really on the plot anymore. His thoughts keep drifting back to what you whispered in your sleep“You’re my stupid, beautiful boy.”

You’ve never really talked about relationships not in any serious way. Sure, there had been the lighthearted teasing, the playful banter between the two of you, the way you’d poke fun at each other and keep things casual. But beneath all of that… the connection between you two had always been something more. Something unspoken but there, lingering beneath the surface like an uncharted tide.

In all the time you’d known each other, you’d never crossed that line, never even hinted at it. You were close hell, you were probably closer than most people would ever get, in a way that felt natural and effortless. But neither of you had ever really acknowledged this.

This growing sense of warmth that seemed to be building between you two.

You weren’t just his best friend anymore. No, it felt different now. It felt like it was shifting, like maybe you both were standing on the edge of something you hadn’t yet named. The way you’d touched his face, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about your words those things weren’t casual. And it wasn’t just tonight.

Every day you spent together, every moment of shared laughter and easy comfort, seemed to push you both closer to something real. Sal could feel it, too. The way his chest tightened when you smiled, the way his heart beat just a little faster when your hand brushed his. He had no words for it, and honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted them. Not yet. Not when things were so perfect this way, untouched by labels or expectations.

But with every passing day, it became harder to ignore. Harder to pretend that this whatever this was wasn’t becoming something more. Something that meant more.

His thoughts trail off again as he glances at you, your body still curled beside him, your breathing slow and steady. You’re so close, and yet… a thousand unspoken things hang in the air between you.

Sal doesn’t have answers. Hell, he’s not even sure what he wants right now. But it’s getting harder to push down that tiny, persistent thought, the one that wonders if this is really just friendship anymore.

And it’s getting harder to ignore the way he feels like it’s been real for a long time now, even if neither of you have said it out loud.

For the first time, Sal wonders if maybe just maybe he’s been in love with you all along.

But as the quiet stretches on and the movie finally fades to its credits, he closes his eyes and lets the feeling sit with him. There’s no rush. No need to make it anything more than what it is for now.

But damn, it’s getting harder to pretend it’s just friendship.

[After you tackle Sal onto the bed]

Sal: [deadpan] You do realize one day I’m just going to let you fall, right?

You: Pfft, no you won’t.

Sal: And what makes you so sure?

You: [grinning] Because I know that you are painfully in love with me and you thrive off of the weird tension that we have.

Sal:

DC COMICS - Masterlist

BATMAN | Bruce Wayne

ᯓ★ Gotham Socialite

ᯓ★ You’re Weird

ᯓ★ Someone Thought Of Me (Batmom)

ᯓ★ My Sons Boyfriend (Batmom)

NIGHTWING | Dick Grayson

ᯓ★ Voice on the line

SUPERBOY | Connor Kent

ᯓ★ Batblood

THE RIDDLER | Edward Nygma

ᯓ★ Sweet Eddie

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Characters I want to write ⋆✴︎˚｡

Ray Palmer - arrowverse

Jason Todd

John Constantine

and more….

VIDEO GAMES

SUPER MARIO

Luigi

Falling In Love

“He asked for no Pickles”

SALLY FACE

Sal Fisher

Stupid, Beautiful Boy

Why Would You?

AHHHHHHHHHHH

popular reader

Larry Johnson

Bikini Kill

BALDURS GATE 3

Astarion

Like Real People Do

Reader is Horn

GENSHIN IMPACT

Kaeya

Drabble

HONKAI STAR RAIL

Caelus

Another Me in Another World

Sunday

Get used to it

Snow Day

Boothill

I’m just baking cookies

Veritas Ratio

Stubborn Stubborn Stubborn

Life Is Strange

Nathan Prescott

The Rich Asshole

Sanji Vinsmoke x Reader

𓊝﹏ All Too Well 𓊝﹏

blab blah blah I see him and suddenly im dumb

masterlist

SYNOPSIS: don’t you hate when your woman who is not your woman get fed up with you so your woman who’s not your woman goes and take matters into her own hands.

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖ You strolled through a lively port town with Sanji, the afternoon sun warming your skin as the scent of fresh bread and spices drifted through the air. He was, as always, a step ahead, effortlessly weaving through the crowd with you trailing behind.

Despite the reason for this trip to restock the ship’s food supplies Sanji seemed to treat it as a personal mission to chat with every woman who so much as glanced his way. It was nothing new, really. Every compliment, every declaration of love, every swooning reaction from the ladies it was all part of who he was.

But damn, was it annoying sometimes.

“Sanji,” you called, catching up to him as he leaned over a stall, grinning at the vendor a particularly pretty woman selling fresh herbs. “Are we actually shopping, or are you just collecting plans for tonight ?”

He turned to you with that signature charm. “What, love? Are you getting jealous? My love you’re always at the top of my list” His smirk was teasing, playful, but something about the way he said it made your stomach twist.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Not in the slightest. Just wondering if I should be carrying all these bags myself while you’re busy.”

Sanji straightened immediately. “I would never let a lady carry heavy bags in my presence!” He took them from your arms with ease, but before you could feel triumphant, he turned back to the vendor and gently took her hand. “Forgive me, mademoiselle, duty calls. But know that your beauty is as fresh as your basil.”

You clenched your jaw. That was it.

Without a word, you pivoted on your heel and strolled off into the bustling crowd, leaving him behind. You didn’t need to deal with this right now.

You made your way to a nearby fruit stall, inspecting the selection when a voice interrupted. “You seem like you have good taste,” a smooth voice said.

You glanced up to see a man tall, rugged, with a confident smile. He gestured toward the apples. “Which one would you recommend?”

You hummed thoughtfully, picking up a ripe one and handing it to him with a slight tilt of your head. “This one.”

He took it, fingers brushing yours. “Good choice. Maybe you should stick around and help me shop.”

You chuckled, more amused than anything, but before you could respond, a familiar presence appeared beside you.

Sanji.

The air shifted instantly. His easygoing charm was still there, but his stance was different subtle but firm. “Ah, my dear, there you are.” His hand found the small of your back, light but undeniably possessive. “I was worried when you ran off.”

The man’s gaze flickered between you two. “You two together?”

Sanji smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Something like that.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his tone, but you said nothing. You usually just let it play out, enjoying the rare sight of Sanji stewing in his own jealousy.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no, we’re not together.”

Sanji’s hand, which had been resting lightly against your back, lifted ever so slightly before dropping entirely.

The man smirked, clearly pleased with the answer. “That so?” He took a bite of the apple you’d chosen for him, eyes flickering over you with interest. “Then maybe”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s free to flirt with whoever she wants,” Sanji cut in, voice sharp with something unreadable. “don’t let me stop you”

You turned to him with an unimpressed look. “Oh? You suddenly have a problem with that?”

His smile was still there, but it was forced now, tight at the edges. “Of course not, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, but there was an edge to his voice, a tension in his stance.

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Then piss off, Sanji. Thought you had some more lovely ladies to chase after.”

Sanji’s eyebrow twitched. His whole demeanor shifted still composed, still that smooth talking flirt, but now there was something else lurking underneath. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling before flashing you a lazy smirk. “Fine. Do whatever you want, gorgeous.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, hands in his pockets, looking every bit as confident as always. But you saw it the tightness in his shoulders, the way his footsteps were just a little too heavy.

Good. Let him stew in it for a change.

You turned back to the guy, flashing a charming smile of your own. “Now, where were we?”

But even as you continued talking, a lingering heat stayed on your skin the memory of Sanji’s touch, his lingering gaze, and the way his voice had dropped just slightly when he called you gorgeous.

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖

You continued chatting with the man, picking out a few more items for your collection, and although he was polite and engaging, your thoughts kept drifting back to Sanji. The way his hand had hovered at your back, the little flicker of jealousy in his eyes, the forced smoothness in his voice it was all so familiar, you felt it all too well and yet it made you feel strangely unsettled.

As the day passed, the random guy proved to be an easy companion, offering good suggestions for what to buy and being genuinely considerate when it came to picking out fresh produce and spices. He was easy to talk to, and the lighthearted banter between you two made the errands almost feel like a casual date. But every so often, you’d glance at the bags you were carrying, noticing that they were getting heavier as you loaded up, and that faint tug of regret would sneak in.

You missed the way Sanji always insisted on carrying your bags, even if it was over the top, and how he’d make sure you didn’t have to lift a finger when it came to food shopping, the way he’d make it fun with jokes, teasing, and making you feel like the only one in the world who mattered.

It wasn’t that this guy was bad company it was just… different. There was no shared bond, no shared history, no special moments where the two of you made meals together or laughed over burned rice or an over salted stew. It was a nice day, but it wasn’t the same as being with Sanji.

After a few more minutes, you noticed the sun beginning to dip lower in the sky. The port town was starting to empty out, and you realized you should probably start heading back to the ship. “I think I’ve got everything I need,” you said, your smile warm but thoughtful. “I should be getting back.”

The man nodded, giving you a polite smile. “Of course, I won’t keep you. Thanks for the company today it was nice to meet you.”

You waved it off, feeling the first pang of regret. “It was fun. Take care.”

Turning to leave, you started heading back to the dock, your steps a little slower than before. It felt like a quiet, pleasant day, but there was a knot in your chest. It was the first time you’d felt this way in a while like you were missing something, or maybe someone.

As you walked, your thoughts returned to Sanji again, to the way his voice had softened just slightly when he’d called you “gorgeous” before walking off. you’d find him later, and you could tell him exactly how much you missed his presence, his playful teasing, and the way he made everything feel like it had purpose.

But for now, you simply carried the bags of fresh food back to the ship, the smell of it reminding you of those quiet moments in the kitchen, when you two would bond over cooking together. It was a kind of peace you didn’t want to give up.

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖

You climbed up the gangplank of the Sunny, arms full with bags of fresh produce and dry goods. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting warm golden hues over the ship. You had managed to grab most of the things on the list hopefully, Sanji had taken care of the rest. Knowing him, he probably had.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders. The encounter in town still lingered in your mind, but you shook it off. Whatever. If Sanji wanted to act like a flirt one minute and get possessive the next, that was his problem.

Just as you were stepping onto the deck, a hand grabbed your wrist, tugging you to the side.

“Hey what the”

You turned to see Nami, her sharp eyes scanning your face like she was trying to read your thoughts.

“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms. “What the hell happened between you and Sanji?”

Your brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Nami gave you an unimpressed look. “Oh, don’t even try that with me,” she huffed. “Sanji came back before you, dumped the supplies in the kitchen, and has been stomping around ever since. He’s barely said a word, hasn’t flirted with a single woman on board, and even turned down Robin when she asked for tea.”

You blinked. He turned down Robin?

Nami leaned in slightly. “So I’ll ask again what happened?”

You clicked your tongue, shifting your weight. “Nothing. We just… went shopping, got separated, and that’s it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You said that way too vaguely.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Look, I just got tired of his bullshit, alright? One minute he’s all over me, the next he’s flirting with some random girl, then when I start talking to someone, he’s got a problem with it? I’m not dealing with that.”

Nami’s lips twitched slightly like she wanted to smirk but was holding back. “So you made him jealous.”

“I wasn’t trying to make him jealous,” you muttered. “I just had enough of him acting like I’m special one second and then running off to the next girl the moment I blink.”

Nami hummed, clearly enjoying this. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. I haven’t seen him this grumpy in ages.” She smirked, giving you a knowing look. “So… what now?”

You hesitated. You weren’t really sure. Did you want to clear the air? Did you want to keep making him stew in it?

Before you could answer, a familiar voice called out from the kitchen.

“Oi!” Sanji’s voice was sharp, impatient. “If you’re done gossiping, some of us still have a ship to cook for!”

You and Nami exchanged glances.

“Yep,” she said, grinning. “You definitely got to him.” immediately both you and nami run to bring the bags to him

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖

Dinner on the Sunny was as usual a lively affair laughter, conversation, and the clatter of dishes filling the air as everyone enjoyed Sanji’s cooking.

But tonight?

Tonight, there was an unmistakable tension radiating from the cook.

Sanji moved through the kitchen and dining area with his usual grace, but his movements were stiff, his usual flirtatious remarks absent. He set plates down with a little too much force, his jaw tight as he worked in silence.

“Oi, Sanji, what’s with the attitude?” Zoro grumbled, eyeing him over his plate. “You got your ass kicked in town or somethin’?”

Sanji shot him a glare. “Shut it, mosshead.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow but smirked knowingly, clearly enjoying whatever was going on.

You, on the other hand, kept your focus on your plate, trying not to let your own amusement show. So he’s still sulking, huh?

Across the table, Nami sent you a quick glance before leaning back with a satisfied smile. “Dinner’s great, Sanji,” she said, clearly baiting him. “It’s almost like you channeled all your pent up frustration into it.”

Sanji’s eyebrow twitched, but he forced a smile. “Glad you like it, Nami.”

You caught the way his gaze flickered toward you just for a second before he turned away and busied himself at the stove.

Robin, ever perceptive, let out a soft hum. “It’s rare to see our dear cook so tense. I wonder what could’ve caused it.”

Luffy, oblivious as always, just grinned as he stuffed his face. “As long as he keeps cooking, who cares?”

Sanji ignored them all, but the way he gripped the edge of the counter told you everything.

Oh, he was definitely still stewing over what happened in town.

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖

With dinner finished and everyone helping to clean up, the tension lingering around Sanji was still very present. He scrubbed a pan with more force than necessary, his jaw tight, his usual smooth demeanor buried under whatever storm was brewing in his head.

You couldn’t help it. Seeing him like this so obviously riled up was just too entertaining to ignore.

So, you casually leaned against the counter beside him, watching as he worked. “You know,” you mused, “for someone who flirts like it’s his life’s mission, you sure get pissy when the tables turn.”

Sanji’s scrubbing stopped.

Slowly, he turned his head, giving you a side eye that could probably set something on fire. “Oh?” he said, voice deceptively calm. “And what exactly are you implying, sweetheart?”

You smirked. “I’m just saying… for someone who was practically jumping from one woman to another earlier, you got awfully moody when I talked to someone else.”

Sanji let out a sharp exhale, setting the pan down a little harder than necessary. He turned to you fully, leaning in just slightly, his presence radiating something different something charged.

“You think I’m jealous?” His voice was low, controlled, but you could see the way his fingers curled against the counter, how his eyes darkened just a little.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Well, you have been sulking all evening.”

Sanji huffed out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Tch. You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” you teased, stepping just a little closer, “you still haven’t denied it.”

His jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw something flicker across his face something raw, something real. But just as quickly, he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing another dish to wash. “Go flirt with your little market boy if that’s what you want.”

You grinned. “Ohhh, so you are jealous.”

His grip tightened on the plate. “I’m not” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply before turning his glare on you. “Go away.”

You laughed, thoroughly enjoying this. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. It’s fun watching you try not to combust.”

Sanji shot you one last glare before turning back to the dishes, muttering something under his breath. But even with his back to you, you could see it the slight redness at the tips of his ears.

Oh yeah. You definitely had him right where you wanted him.

You watched him for a moment, enjoying the way his shoulders were tense, his hands working the dishes with a little too much force. It was rare to see Sanji like this off balance, rattled.

And you weren’t done playing with him just yet.

Stepping closer, you reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him down to your height before he could react.

Sanji barely had time to blink before your lips were near his ear, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“You know,” you murmured, “for someone who claims to be a gentleman, you’re not acting very chivalrous right now.”

His breath hitched, but he didn’t move, frozen in place.

“I did it on purpose,” you admitted, your voice soft but smug. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

Sanji’s fingers twitched where they gripped the counter, but he still didn’t say a word.

Smirking, you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes stormy, intense, filled with something unreadable. And before he could say anything, you leaned in and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his cheek.

You felt his body tense beneath your touch, his breath hitch once more.

Then, just as quickly, you let go, stepping back and flashing him a knowing smile.

“Thanks for dinner, Sanji,” you said casually,

you turned on your heel and walked away, feeling the weight of his stare burning into your back.

And for once, Sanji was the one left speechless.

You paused just before stepping out of the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder with a smirk. Sanji still hadn’t moved, his hands gripping the counter so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His expression was unreadable, his lips slightly parted like he wanted to say something but nothing came out.

Perfect.

“Oh, by the way,” you added, tilting your head just enough to watch his reaction, “I think I’ll go hang out with Zoro for a bit. At least he’ll give me some attention.”

Sanji twitched.

His eye visibly twitched.

The sheer offense that flashed across his face was priceless.

His mouth opened, then closed, as if he was scrambling for a comeback but all he could do was let out a sharp, frustrated exhale through his nose.

You almost burst out laughing right then and there. Instead, you gave him one last wink before disappearing down the hall, leaving him stewing in his jealousy.

Y/n: “Oh, don’t mind me, Sanji. I’ll just keep teasing you until you get all worked up, but I’m sure you’re completely unaffected, right?”

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance

Saiki Kusuo x Non-Binary! Reader

Book 1

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Chapter One: Girl Problems and Beach Woes

Chapter Two: Ghosts and Guardians

Chapter Three: Sports Festival

Chapter Four: Safety Drills and Clairvoyants

Chapter Five: Ramen Shops

Chapter Six: Christmas Eve

Chapter Seven: New Year's Day

Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings

Chapter Nine: Mothers and Meetups

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Chapter Eleven: Accidents and Reveals

Chapter Twelve: Insecurities and Sweets

Chapter Thirteen: Punk Transfer

Chapter Fourteen: Festival Display

Chapter Fifteen: Festival Problems

Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)

Chapter Seventeen: Delinquent Run-In and Teruhashi’s Home-Visit

Chapter Eighteen: Karaoke Party

Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club

Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks

Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London

Chapter Twenty-Two: Summer Break Days

Chapter Twenty-Three: Rich Transfer Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Four: Celebrations

Book 2:

Follows the Events of Season Two

Prologue: Relationships

Chapter One: Cafes and Clothes

Chapter Two: Saiko's Mansion

Chapter Three: Cold Days and Warm Hearts

Chapter Four: Cute Girls and Ghost Girls

Chapter Five: Competition and Curses

Chapter Six: Seasick

Chapter Seven: Stranded

Chapter Eight: Raft

Chapter Nine: Misinformation and Memories

Chapter Ten: Fortune-Telling Transfer

Chapter Eleven: Mark of Death

Chapter Twelve: Family

Chapter Thirteen: Festival Competition

Chapter Fourteen: Elderly Project

Chapter Fifteen: Dates and Judo

Chapter Sixteen: Teruhashi's Tears and Rifuta's Crush

Chapter Seventeen: Occult Love versus Sweet Loves

Chapter Eighteen: Evil Spirits and Pranks

Chapter Nineteen: Insecurity and Talkative Transfer

Chapter Twenty: Investigative Transfer

Chapter Twenty-One: Culture Festival

Chapter Twenty-Two: Festival Play

Chapter Twenty-Three: New Year's Premonition and Valentine's Day Gift

Chapter Twenty-Four: Clone Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Five: Confessions

Specials:

Pride Specials: 2024

Halloween Specials: 2024

Taglist:

@elaemae, @painstakingly-juno, @characterreaderwriter, @melovepurple, @sleep-7372, @w0mank1sser, @geminigengar, @noodleryworld, @leonardo-dabitchy, @janezee12751275, @xenop0p, @ex160-blog1, @boogiemansbitch, @dmitrytherat, @yuriisclumsy, @sixxze, @constellationguy, @k03ume, @sweatyinternettrash, @paastaboi, @unorthodox-gob, @girlswhopanic, @h-i-g-h-w-a-y-t-o-h-e-l-l-l, @drowningfishy, @rinwho, @izzieg3987, @candylp, @jmclouds, @ittomain1, @justamina-blog, @newtscreatures347269, @digital-dumbass, @chronovala, @yappydoo, @mymomsdisappointment, @lvvcian, @kyliexreads, @b3bybunny, @sle3pyh3ad2, @snowy-violet, @jaguarthecat, @isaacdaknight, @newttheglue250, @thelameone101, @peqch-pie, @rai-xxx, @loverzxi, @s0ggyrats, @introvertathome, @pandaquick, @sleepyk0dyz, @girgal73

⋆˚✿˖° ❝𝗜𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗱❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

────୨ৎ────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Geto Suguru x Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gojo Satoru x Reader

────୨ৎ────

oh there is another guy that’s a love interest? well let’s just let it cook for a bit first

────୨ৎ────

₍^. .^₎⟆ Synopsis: In a world of curses and power struggles take center stage, you’ve always kept to the simple aspects of life. Focussing on your studies, your friendships and life in the dorms. Though everything changes when Geto challenges Gojo that he can’t win your heart and what happens when Geto realizes that Gojo needs to lose.

⋆˚✿˖° 1. Unintended Study Breaks

⋆˚✿˖° 2. I’ve Played these Games Before

⋆˚✿˖° 3. Men who listen to Mitski

⋆˚✿˖° 4. How it feels to be a girl and do no wrong

⋆˚✿˖° 5. “What kind of woman are you attracted to”

⋆˚✿˖° 6. You are a Cougar!!!

⋆˚✿˖°

⋆˚✿˖°

for my other works-> MAIN MASTERLIST

Sometimes I get Insecure but then remember I’m hot and in my mind i’m married to anime characters

YAYAYAYYA

anyways follow my insta if you perpetually think of hawks @sirxaibs

Bruh one of my fav authors is a pedo

Why did you gotta talk to kids that way man...

Magnum opus

little star — diluc 。

synopsis!! everyone knows the creator doesn't favor diluc (everyone is wrong).

cw !! gn reader, reader is peak diluc simp 😐 somewhat self-aware characters, mild sagau themes (not too much), reader is recognized as the player, reader is a little shy at first. angst with reverse comfort!

note !! the plot feels a little everywhere but i tried to organize it as best as i can, i think i got carried away eheh honestly doesn't feel up to my standards but it was pretty enjoyable to write

word count !! 2.8k something

"No, it's definitely Outrider Amber, she was the first to ever be favored."

"Are you kidding me? Outrider Amber may be the first, but sir Kaeya was definitely loved. Have you seen the sword he was gifted with?" One growls.

"It's the Acting Grand Master Jean!" Someone slams the table with his beer mug, "Twice was she bestowed with fallen stars of gold."

"I'd say that wolf boy in the woods seem lucky."

"It has to be Bennett. I don't know why but that kid has two crowns! Two!"

"You're all missing out on Miss Lisa!"

"Stop, stop! You rowdy drunks! Every vision holder in Mond has been granted favor, this is just impossible to decide!"

There was a pause. "Well. . . not every." Someone mumbles under their breath.

"Not every? Who's the poor allogene that couldn't even get the Player's favo—" Shushing sounds break his sentence, the men glare at their companion, pointing to the redhead behind the bar.

It's useless, really.

Diluc has been listening in the entire time. He can't really help it when their voices were loud enough to reach where he stood. Still, he was merciful and pretended not to hear. He's not exactly bothered by what they're saying. It was the truth, after all.

For two years, vision holders all around Teyvat were being granted favor.

It often begins with a meteor shower gracing the sky.

A star gently falling into the hands of a vision holder, embracing them in warm light.

They call the ethereal sensation as something akin to "coming home".

The favored would then be given different things; quality weapons, enhanced abilities, beautiful crowns— Some allogenes were even gifted summer apparel (Mondstadt is proud that their Gunnhildr sisters were one of the very first). Even their equipped wings would change into ornamented works of art!

It's been two years, and it seems like every allogene he knows of has received the Player's grace.

He supposed he just wasn't favored. It isn't too difficult to believe that he isn't likable.

He convinces himself it's fine.

It's fine if his summoned weapon is a cheap claymore made of scrap metal. It's still efficient to have the extra blade while he manually carries around another claymore (commissioned from Wagner as the best money could buy). Or that his abilities can only be improved through hardwork, unlike the many who broke the limits of their power through your favor.

It's fine.

As the bar goers leave for the night, as Venti and Kaeya wave around their almost divine-looking five-star weapons to show the crowd, and as he's closing up the tavern and retreating to his upstair quarters for comfort, he convinces himself that the he'll be okay on his own.

•

The arrival of the Creator was festive and grand; The day the sky parted itself and glowed as the brightest of all stars fell with grace into Mondstadt's very own Windrise.

Teyvat rejoices in the ecstatic ideal of being loved.

A meeting of vision holders was quickly held in the Cathedral, discussing immediate plans as some of the most favored (Venti, Jean, Kaeya, Albedo to name a few) went ahead to fetch the Creator from the large tree.

While Diluc was often the center of any other meeting due to his authority and influence, this was something he chose to step back from. Standing by the windows, away from the meeting, he watched on as Eula and the rest conversed around the circular table.

He isn't even sure why he's invited. Perhaps they felt it was obligatory for vision holders, regardless of favorability? Then again, he could always offer a fraction of his mountain-loads of wealth to help with the festivities.

At least he's competent at being a wallet.

As the others pull out their crowns and stars, weapons and artifacts, eager to thank the one responsible for the gifts, an unknown emotion bubbles in his stomach. It's faint, but it's there.

He tries to look away.

"Everyone, everyone! They're entering the gates!" Fischl announces uncharacteristically to the room as her eye glows brightly, undoubtedly looking through Oz's eyes from the sky.

"We should wait by the statue to welcome them, right?" Barbara chirps in, hands clasped and wavy hair bouncing with every step.

Diluc watches as people steadily leave the room, following last as they walk down the steps to greet the approaching group. Some civilians gathered to see the scene, others didn't really understand what a Player or Creator was to a vision holder, while Diluc—

Diluc stood by the steps to see them crowd around you.

You, surrounded with words of gratitude and cheerful squeals. He sees the smile on your face and feels relief that you don't seem too overwhelmed.

He leaves the area without a second thought.

•

He doesn't exactly see you around the next few days. With Mondstadt celebrating a new festival, the taverns were always full and busy with customers (both local and foreign). You were probably busy too, spending time with the different allogenes and entertaining those who came from Liyue to meet you. He's heard of a funeral consultant with three crowns (are consultants that admirable of a job to you?) and an adeptus gifted with various five-star polearms (this was understandable for the adepti, unlike the consultant).

He doesn't expect to see you at all until you leave for the next nation, honestly.

That is, until the tavern settles into a more peaceful atmosphere and Jean rushes in with several other allogenes. It's unusual to see his childhood friend in the tavern; still, he greets her amicably and asks what brings her here.

"(Name) will be coming here soon with Kaeya and a few others. It's a little impromptu, but we were hoping for a place to settle in with drinks. Perhaps try some apple cider." She smiles, taking a seat by the bar.

(Name)? Jean was already on a first name basis with the Creator?

Diluc thinks perhaps Jean truly is the favorite, she does have a few golden stars in her home.

Somehow, it's not surprising at all to know that his apple cider was famous enough to drag you in. At least there's something about the Dawn Winery in your favor. He promptly gets his employees to work, clearing a few tables near the bar, rearranging the furniture to give space good enough for a group.

Your entrance into the bar was just as lively; with your favored allogenes chatting away with you, everyone falling into place at different parts of the tavern, ordering drinks and meals.

He's glad you enjoy apple cider.

•

You're trying to play it cool, really. Trying your best not to get overexcited and glomp everyone and everything.

You're taking things step by step as you converse with Jean, Lisa, and Albedo; as you share meals with Barbara and Sucrose; as you play with Klee and Diona; tour the city with Fischl and Bennett. There's plenty of time to meet everyone and your schedule has been filled to the brim with all the fun your having.

You'll see that glimpse of red hair again— one that was lingering by the Cathedral staircase. Diluc doesn't like crowds, so it's fine that he isn't approaching you. It's also fine that he hasn't visited at least once, unlike the several raging from Liyue to Sumeru who took the journey to meet you early.

Diluc is too busy a person to meet you; whether it's because of the winery or his darknight hero duties, you wouldn't dare take his time.

— but when are you supposed to give him all the gifts you've brought for him???

Your determination to build him up in one go, from Talent levels to Constellations to Artifacts and Weaponry, all came down to this moment — and the man was simply nowhere to be seen!

An unknowingly loud sigh escapes your lips, catching the attention of the Cavalry Captain next to you.

"Now, what's got our (Name) so down in the dumps?" Kaeya hums, glancing at your face as you stutter a response.

"Aah it's not that, it's just. . ."

Your brother is too busy, I just want to meet him!!

"I'm thirsty." You deflect, looking around for a stall. The streets of Mond were nothing like the minimized version you see in the game; with the city being ten times larger than what you remembered it to be.

"Oh! Oh! Klee suggests apple cider!" The little girl giggles, running around your legs in excitement, "Angel's Share is nearby and big brother Albedo alwaaays takes me there for apple cider!"

Angel's Share. Bartender. A great idea has appeared!

At the excited look on your face, Jean walks up ahead of you.

"Why don't I go and inform the tavern to prepare us a space first, it would save us the waiting time."

"That would be great, Jean!"

•

You hope you aren't being too obvious.

With the way your eyes would linger on him, casting side glances and hoping he would greet you to strike up a conversation, the way most allogenes do. You didn't want to abruptly disturb his work, nor do you want seem desperate, so you waited for his initiative.

Yet, Diluc lingers just a little outside your group's circle. Your food and drinks were refilled by Charles, you've talked with nearly everyone but the person you want to talk to.

"It's getting pretty late, we should head home for the night." Someone suggests.

What?

No!

"Hm? Do you still have something in mind?" Kaeya asks. You realized you said it out loud, catching the attention of nearby patrons.

With a frantic glance around the tavern, your eyes make contact with Diluc's. He pauses as well, wondering what caused your little outburst.

You are definitely not leaving, not when you don't know when you could catch Diluc in his free time again! You'd be leaving for Liyue by then!

Hands slamming the table to stand up and with a small burst of courage, you approach the bartender who turns away from Charles. He raises an eyebrow at your approach. It's odd the way you feel flustered and nervous, finally facing him.

Pausing just in front of him, he looks on curiously.

"Would you like a refill?" He asks.

"A-ah no, I mean, yes but that's not why I'm here. I. . ." You stutter, stumbling over your words as you try not to behave awkwardly. Should you start with a casual topic?

"You seem to be quite busy." You say.

Diluc blinks. He isn't sure what you're implying. Neither is Kaeya or Jean, who stopped to look at the exchange of words.

"I suppose. . . but as a winery, we do thrive in impromptu festivities." He replies curtly before realizing, was it rude that he never visited the Creator?

"Ah, is it my lack of visit? I apologize, I would have visited but it seems that you were quite satisfied with your favorites and-"

"No, no, no," You wave your hand, cutting him off, "I understand you're busy. You don't have to visit at all! How could I take your time— wait," You pause, recalling his words.

"Favorites?" You tilt your head, "What do you mean I seemed satisfied with my favorites? What do you mean by favorites?"

"Your favorites... allogenes who received your favor. Those you have granted gifts."

Your jaw laxes. Favorites? They decided you play favorites based on how much you've built them?

"You think. . ." You say carefully, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, "That I offer gifts to my favorites?"

Diluc nods slowly, unsure of your questioning.

Although it would be a lie to say you didn't have your personal favorites, it would still be inaccurate that it's based on gifts. After all, you built everyone who came home by chance. As an avid player, you did your best to farm and push everyone to their full potential.

Diluc, however, never came home no matter how much you wanted him to. It can't be possible that he doesn't know how much he is loved, right?

"Then what about you?" You blurt out, "How do you think I view you?"

He stares at you oddly. At this point, many around you had stopped to tune in. Everyone knew Master Diluc never received your favor, so why are you conversing with him?

Meanwhile, Diluc wonders if you want him to admit it. Must he say it in front of everyone how he never received gifts?

"I suppose. . . I'm not one of them. It's quite understandable. I don't intend to question your judgement—"

"What?" You exclaim, a look of shock crosses your face, "You think I don't like you?" Voice raised in disbelief, you feel the eyes of many turning to watch the scene.

Diluc mirrors your confusion.

"I can't believe you would– no, that isn't it at all!" You stutter over your words, a frantic need to prove him wrong goes through you, "You— you of all people!"

"Me?" He repeats.

"I've always wanted you!"

A silence settles over the tavern. Did you have to put it so bluntly? You freeze in shock at your own words. Diluc's expression of disbelief turns flustered, face turning as red as his hair.

Explain yourself.

"I- I mean, I've always wanted you to come home. Ever since the start, really! It's just that you never did-"

"Hmm... so it implies that it's out of your control, correct?" Kaeya piqued, looking on curiously. He's been listening in the entire time. You nod your head.

"Yes! It's a game of chance for me as well. It's not to say that favor is an accident, I truly wanted everyone to come home! It's just that—" You turn to Diluc, "You never did, no matter how much I wanted you to. How was I supposed to give you your gifts?"

Diluc snaps out of his shock, blinking at you, "Gifts?"

"Yes, gifts! I've been saving them up for you, ever since the start." You pause, shyly looking away, "When I said I wanted you since the beginning I meant it. I came here for you, after all."

He looks at you in disbelief, and probably half the tavern as well. You can't help the small chuckle from your lips. With an outstretched hand, something materializes between you. It glows a blinding golden light, before settling to reveal–

"Wolf's Gravestone. It's a weapon for you."

You didn't have to say it— anyone with eyes could see how it was practically made for Diluc. With large handles and a color scheme that matches his own, Wolf's gravestone doesn't look as divine or ethereal as the other weapons you've gifted, but it looked just as powerful, if not menacing.

With a gesture, Diluc grips the handle.

"Fits like a glove." Kaeya whistles, impressed. As does the rest of the tavern who stopped to stare.

Suddenly, flames burst forth from the weapon. It sears and glows red. Unlike the common claymore that can't handle the the prowess of Diluc's flames, Wolf's Gravestone embraces it. Like an extension of his own hand.

He breaks his gaze away from the weapon to look at you.

"Thank you. . ." He mutters softly, but it's genuine. You smile.

"That's not the last of it, you know."

"What?"

With another flick of your hand, artifacts and talent books materialize. They flow around him like a dance as more and more begin to appear, lighting up the tavern like the night sky.

"I told you I brought gifts!"

All the days spent farming for him and other pyro characters finally paid off. The glimmering artifacts reflected in his own red eyes as he stares, entranced.

Favor did not come to him in meteor showers like it did to the other allogenes; rather, it came to him in your form. Proof of him being loved. The spectacle continued— after the artifacts and talent levels were the constellation (the crowd ooh'ed and aah'ed at the sight), then came the five star apparel (a nostalgic sight to him, and it changed his flames to a darker red), and the ascension materials you passed off as trinkets.

By the end of it, he had a hand over his lower face, his red bangs hid just the ends of his eyes. "I just thought I wasn't that favorable. . ." He muttered and you leaned in to peek at his covered face, wondering why he was shying away.

But it was evident to the tavern— the pink dusted ears, the flushed cheeks, and the overwhelming emotion in his eyes. Diluc Ragnvindr was flustered, and it's a sight enough to make even the drunks place down their beers for a closer look.

You bit your lip, trying to prevent the widest of smiles, "Do you believe yourself loved now?" You ask and he gives the faintest of nods.

"Thank you," He says, "For favoring me."

m.list 2 || consider supporting me on ko-fi ! || sagau m.list

note !! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE a very short brainrot that became a fic huhuhuhu

I don't often write creator sagau themes but here we are! this is like peak diluc simpery idk ive never been this down for a man. i wrote this immediately after getting his skin i just got so excited 😅 I wanted to spoil him so bad (but i gave all his mats to thoma before he came home :< )

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @shizunxie

Masterlist~~

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Keigo Takami was dangerously close to losing control. He sat on the edge of the rooftop, wings sprawled lazily behind him, golden eyes scanning the city below without truly seeing it. Patrol had ended an hour ago, but he hadn’t moved, hadn’t taken off into the sky. Instead, he let the silence swallow him whole while the weight in his chest pulsed with every beat of his heart.

He was thinking about you again. Not just thinking. Obsessing. Wanting. Craving.

It wasn’t new not really. You had been his best friend for years now. The only person who truly saw him for who he was beneath the feathers, beneath the smiles and playful banter. You weren’t fooled by his smirks or his cocky remarks.

And he wanted you in every way a man could want someone.

He pressed his fingers to his lips, as if he could trap the thoughts there, keep them from spilling out. But they always found their way back in. Memories of your laugh, your hand brushing his, the way you leaned into him when you were tired. The way you looked at him like you didn’t expect anything more than what he was already giving.

But God, he wanted to give you more.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, wings twitching behind him. “You have no idea,” he muttered to himself.

No idea how he thought about you when he showered, when he lay awake in bed, when he flew above the city. How the ache wasn’t just in his chest but deep, carnal, physical. You’d never touched him like that not even close but his body remembered every innocent brush, every accidental graze of your fingers, every look that lingered a second too long.

He remembered the last time you hugged him. Fully wrapped your arms around him without hesitation.

You were warm. So warm, it branded him. And he wanted to be selfish. Just once.

He wanted to kiss you. Hold you. Lay you down and worship you with every part of himself. He wanted to hear you moan his name like a plea, like he was the only thing in your world that mattered.

His fists clenched.

But he couldn’t. Because he was your best friend. And you trusted him. He’d never risk that. But lately… it was getting harder to pretend. Harder to act like his thoughts didn’t spiral when you smiled at him, when you laughed and leaned your head back like the world couldn’t touch you. Like he was safe in your orbit.

“Fuck,” he whispered to the empty air.

His wings flared slightly behind him, agitated. He was needy pathetically so and it rattled him. You. His best friend and the woman he couldn’t stop imagining underneath him, moaning his name like a prayer.

He exhaled a shaky breath, one hand dragging down his face. His fingers curled tightly in his hair, jaw clenched. It had started innocently enough thinking about your laugh, the way you teased him, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you loved. But lately, that innocent warmth had twisted, melted into something far darker.

Now all he could think about was how soft your lips would feel against his. How your body would arch into his if he finally let himself touch you the way he needed to. Keigo, who wanted to touch the curve of your waist, bury his face in your neck, trace his fingers down your thighs and hear you gasp for him. Keigo, who thought about your lips parting for him, your nails digging into his back, your breath hot against his ear.

He could already feel your thighs wrapped around him in his imagination, could already hear the sounds you’d make soft, desperate, so unlike the friend you were. And he wanted it more than he wanted anything else.

His cock was already hard, straining against the tightness of his pants, and he fucking hated how easy it was to get this way just thinking about you. It didn’t take much just the memory of your legs crossed during a casual conversation, the way your shirt would ride up when you stretched, revealing the tempting curve of your waist.

He leaned back against the cool concrete of the rooftop wall, letting his head fall back with a low groan. “Goddamn it…”

He’d been so careful. So respectful. Always the charming best friend who gave you space, never said too much, never let his touches linger for too long. But he was starving now.

Keigo wanted to taste every inch of you.

He imagined it pulling you onto his lap, letting his hands explore everything he wasn’t allowed to touch. Your thighs spread for him, your breathy moans in his ear as he whispered filthy things you never thought he’d say.

“You don’t know what you do to me… how long I’ve wanted this.”

He’d take his time with you slow, worshipful, but dripping in hunger. He’d kiss down your neck, between your breasts, over your stomach, and lower, until your thighs trembled around his head. He wanted to ruin you with his mouth, over and over, until your voice was hoarse from crying out for him.

His hips shifted as he ground into his palm, teeth gritted. This wasn’t just some passing fantasy. This was a need buried in the deepest parts of him hot, relentless, consuming.

the worst part… You had no idea. You still called him your best friend. Still crashed at his place when you were too tired to go home. Still walked around in those shorts, those oversized shirts with no bra underneath, curling up beside him on the couch like it was nothing.

It wasn’t nothing to him.

Every brush of your fingers set his nerves on fire. Every laugh you shared made his heart ache and his cock twitch.

He wanted to fuck you so deep you’d forget your own name. Wanted to hear you beg wanted to make you feel good, worshiped, ruined. he’d hold back until the day that he dies. Because you trusted him. And he’d never take advantage of that. Never touch you unless you asked him to.

But he was slipping. More and more, his fantasies blurred with reality. He caught himself staring at your lips, imagining how they’d feel wrapped around his cock. He thought about bending you over his kitchen counter when you came over to cook dinner. About tasting you after a long day your sweat, your moans, your pleasure burning into his mouth like a reward.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, palming himself through his pants now, just to ease the ache.

His wings twitched behind him as he imagined your voice in his ear.

“Keigo… please…”

Would you say his name like that? Would you beg for him to go deeper? Harder? Would you cry out for him, nails clawing at his back, thighs trembling as he pushed you over the edge again and again?

Would you finally look at him not just as your best friend, but as the man who’s been dying to be inside you? The man who loved you with everything he had?The thought was enough to tip him over, and he hissed your name into the night air, guilt and desire tangled up in his veins like poison.

He stayed there for a while, chest heaving, sweat beading on his brow as the tension drained from him but the ache remained. Because no matter how many times he relieved the pressure, no matter how many times he imagined your hands on him, your mouth, your body it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough. Because he didn’t want your body for just a night. He wanted to have you consume his entire day, everyday. He wanted you. All of you.