#birthday writing event

[abbygrabska]

Twelfth Doctor Smut ~ Territorial

For: @toastvogel Plot: Maybe 12 sees the need to "mark his territory" after someone (alien,human, doesn't matter) get a bit too friendly with reader? I really just want to let you write what gets into your mind. As long as it's got 12 in it, I'm happy with everything ;) Tags: biting, belly bulge, hand, size kink

Word Count: 1178

Pulled all of this outta my pussy

You’re excited as you get dressed, you’re going to a Hollywood party in the 60’s with the Doctor.

You weren’t sure who the host is, but the Doctor seemed to know everyone, so it didn’t really matter.

You decide on a dark blue dress with stars littered all over it, a matching necklace and earrings, paired with silver heels. Your eye makeup matches the dress, and your lips have a clear coat of gloss covering them. 

Just as you finish applying the lip gloss, the Doctor knocks on the door frame.

“Come in.” You call out.

He walks in. He’s wearing a black suit, no tie in sight, though ties never were this face’s thing.

He stares at you, a strange look on his face.

You shift nervously under his gaze, “Is something wrong?”

“No.” He shifts his eyes away from you, “You ready to go?” “Yeah.” You stand, leaving the vanity and walking towards him.

He offers an arm for you to hold. 

You grin, hooking elbows with him, “Let’s go!”

He smiles, leading you out of the wardrobe and into the console room.

The Tardis has been parked on the lawn, near the fenceline of the property.

As you walk across the grass, you realize where you are.

Your grip on the Doctor’s arm tightens in excitement, “Are we at Marilyn Monroe’s house?”

“Yes. Funny story, I accidentally married her once. Thankfully she won’t recognize me.” He gestures to his face, “I’ve regenerated since then.”

“Good for you.”

The two of you join the party seamlessly.

At some point the Doctor wanders off, you don’t question it, he does that occasionally.

“That dress sure is something.” You hear a Southern accent say from behind you. You turn around, it’s Elvis Presley.

“Oh, thank you.” You smile, fluffing the skirt slightly. He pulls out a cigarette, offering you one. 

You shake your head, politely denying it.

“Suit yourself.” He lights one, taking a drag before exhaling, “I don’t reckon I’ve seen you before. Who’d you come here with?” “My friend, the Doctor. He’s around here somewhere.” You glance around the backyard. “Why don’t I keep you company until he comes back?” He smirks, offering a hand.

You hesitate, nerves filling you.

“Is there a problem here?” You hear the Scottish lilt of the Doctor from behind you and relax.

“This is your friend?” Elvis asks.

“Date actually.” The Doctor corrects, putting a hand on your waist.

Elvis chuckles, “Sweetheart, he’s old enough to be your great-granddaddy. Why don’t you and I go somewhere and have a little fun?” The Doctor’s grip tightens on your waist, “What would Priscilla think of you having ‘fun’ with another woman?”

Elvis frowns, pulling his cigarette from his mouth, “How’d you know ‘bout Priscilla?”

“Same way everyone else does.” The Doctor responds vaguely, “Ready to go?” He looks at you.

You nod, and he starts to lead you away.

“Hold it now.” Elvis starts to walk after you two.

He grabs your arm.

The reaction is instant, the Doctor turns and punches Elvis in the face, knocking him over.

You hear several people gasp as the Doctor takes you back to the Tardis.

The doors shut and he pulls you back against his chest.

“Doctor?” He is silent, grabbing your hair and pulling your head to the side, he presses his mouth to your neck and bites down.

A cry escapes you, “What are you doing?”

“Making sure everyone will know who you belong to next time.” He grabs your waist and spins you around, throwing you over his shoulder.

You gasp, “What’s gotten into you?!”

He starts walking through the Tardis, ignoring your question as he takes your shoes off.

He kicks open a door and enters, throwing you on the bed.

You look at him bewildered as he crawls on top of you, bunching your skirt up at your waist.

He grabs your underwear and rips them apart.

Heat floods your face as he shoves two fingers in your mouth, “Suck.”

You do, taken aback.

He pulls his fingers out and starts rubbing at your clit with his thumb, sliding his fingers into your hole.

You gasp at the intrusion, going to grab his arm, only for his free hand to come up and pin your arms above your head.

He looks down at you, an angry look in his eyes, “No touching without permission.”

His thumb rubs tight circles into the flesh as his fingers fuck you.

A coil forms in your stomach, tightening rapidly as his fast pace continues.

Your eyes start to shut, a hand grips your face, your eyes shoot open.

“You’re going to look at me when I make you cum.” He grins wolfishly, sliding a third finger into your warmth.

You let out breathy pants, an orgasm rapidly approaching.

His eyes bore into yours as tears form.

Moans escape you as your walls tighten around his fingers, cumming loudly

Once your cunt releases his fingers he pulls them out, licking them clean.

He stands, stripping himself of his suit coat, unbuttoning his shirt, and unbuckling his belt.

He pushes his trousers and underwear down until his cock slaps against his stomach.

He pumps his cock slowly, flipping you over on your stomach., “I’m going to fuck you now, and you’re going to take it, like a good little girl.”

He lines up with your cunt, pushing in until he’s balls deep.

You can feel him in your stomach.

The Doctor slides his hand underneath you, his hand flat against the subtle bulge, pushing down, watching you squirm, “Oh, am I too big for your poor little pussy?” He taunts, pulling out until the bulge disappears before pushing back in roughly.

You cry out.

He grins against your neck, biting down.

He pistons his hips against you, balls slapping your clit with every thrust.

A second orgasm is forming quickly in the pit of your stomach, walls starting to clench around the Doctor’s cock.

“Your poor little pussy. Squeezing me like a vice, it can barely take my big cock, can it?” He taunts, fingers finding your clit and rubbing slowly, “I’m so deep you’ll feel me for days after I’m done. And believe me, I’m not stopping until my cum is dripping out of you.” His thrusts get rougher, fingers rubbing faster, “Everyone is going to know who you belong to when I’m finished.” 

His hips hit your ass at a bruising pace.

“Doctor!” You cry, “It hurts.” “Oh, boo hoo.” He shoves your head against the bed, the frame shaking as he fucks you.

Your walls tighten around him, cumming with a violent moan.

He grabs your hair, pulling your head up, pressing a searing kiss to your mouth.

His hips press into yours firmly as he shoots inside your womb, continuing to fuck you through his orgasm.

Your thighs tremble as he rubs your clit hard and fast, giving you a third orgasm, screaming into his mouth.

His thrusts slow to a stop, body collapsing onto yours.

Your eyes slowly close, exhausted.

[multifandomsimagine]

Imagine Addison noticing Mark's feelings for you

It's the look on Mark's face that causes Addison to slow her walk as she's walking on the bridge. He's resting his arms against the railing, looking down at something on the first floor. He has an unconscious smile growing, tender and soft eyes gazing below to the first floor of the hospital as whatever he's watching has him practically radiating joy.

Addison might have first gotten to know Mark because he was Derek's best friend but she had gotten to know him and become close to him, close enough to call him a friend. There had been a rough patch because of what happened in New York but that didn't erase their history together. And it's because of that history that she knows that the look on his face means something.

She walked over to the side of the bridge, making sure that she was far away from Mark to not startle him out of his trance, before looking over the edge. Addison doesn't notice anything unusual at first as the hospital lobby looks like it does any other day. In the seating area were families fidgeting in their seats, picking at the armrests as they waited, desperate for any news on their loved ones. The nurses stations were buzzing with activity, some typing on the computer, some jotted down notes as they updated charts, and others were walking to different patients as they talked to doctors to update them on the patient's latest status. Doctors passed through, jogging to make their way to their operations or to patients who needed their attention.

With nothing catching her eyes, Addison looks to Mark again and carefully follows his eyesight to the last group in the lobby: the interns. The interns had split into smaller groups - Izzie and George were whispering to each other while you, Christina, and Alex were talking - as you all waited for Meredith. But it's not the whole group that Mark is staring at. No, the soft look in his eyes is directed at you.

Addison watches as his eyes follow your every move, as you gesture to the duo as you tell them about the surgery you assisted in - if she's interpreting your gestures correctly. She raises an eyebrow when she notices Mark's grip on the railing tightens slightly when Alex leans closer to your ear and whispers something to you. Neither one of them can hear what is being said but they can hear your reaction as you push Alex away while you throw your head back in a loud laugh.

Having seen enough to make her own deduction, Addison makes her way to Mark. He doesn't notice her presence as he continues to stare down at you.

"You've also changed."

Mark is startled out of gazing and turns his head to look at her. At his questioning look, she nudges her head toward you and his eyes dart over to you before meeting her gaze once more.

"You sleep with many people and flirt with even more, making it clear that there are no strings attached but," she gestures to you, "I can see the string here."

Mark gets off of the railing and shakes his head. "It's not like that. We're just—"

Addison gives him a look and Mark pauses, letting out a sigh. "I don't know what this is. It's different from what I've felt before but I don't know." He shakes his head. Even though he tries to stop himself, his eyes search for you once more and he watches you and the rest of the interns, now that Meredith has finally joined you all, make your way to the exit. He can't help the smile that shows when he sees you smiling as well.

A faint smile grows on Addison's face at the tender look on Mark's face appears once more. This is a different side to Mark, one that she never knew existed but is happy to see. "Change isn't a bad thing. You should embrace this feeling. It looks good on you."

[8myass]

.. "soft" bf texts with jeong yoonoh/jaehyun .. pairing. jae x gn reader genre. fluff, smut a/n. second work for jae's birthday event!!

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "…How’d you know I wanted this?" "Because I heard you talking about it on several occasions." "I didn’t know you paid this much attention to me." "—I don’t. You just happen to talk really loudly.”

Pairing: Idia Shroud x GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff, and slight crack because it's Idia <3

TW: NA

"-And so, we shall celebrate this winter with a housewarden Secret Santa exchange!" Crowley smiled, golden eyes crinkling into happy little half-moons behind his mask.

The seven housewardens of NRC, joined by Ramshackle's Prefect for this particular meeting, looked at each other. Some with clear exasperation in their eyes, a few (namely Kalim) showing a little more excitement than the rest of their dour counterparts.

The Prefect sighed, sinking into their chair as if embarrassed beyond words as Crowley clapped his hands and stretched his arms towards them, proudly continuing.

"I must give credit of this splendid idea to our beloved Prefect, who told me about this adorable little custom they had followed back in their own world. Of course, being the kind and generous soul that I am, I wish for our Prefect to feel right at home here in Twisted Wonderland. I believe all of you wish the same, hm?"

Leona grumbled under his breath as he leaned back in his chair, tail swishing irritably. Of course the old crow goes and uses them against us, he thought to himself, watching as the others' faces immediately softened at that. No matter how much the seven housewardens of NRC hated working with each other, with the exception of Kalim who seemed happy to just be there, all of them would bear with it if it was for the sake of the Ramshackle Prefect.

Crowley didn't exaggerate when he called the magicless human a beast tamer.

"Fine by me, as long as I don't have to get somethin' for the lizard," he spoke, jutting his chin at Malleus as he frowned. The dragon fae narrowed his eyes at him, before turning to look at the headmage.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, I agree with Kingscholar," he said, voice low and serious. "That being said, I do hope that you would allow me to partake in this gift exchange with the Child of Man as my partner."

"Now, now, that isn't fair to the rest of us, Malleus. I would very much like to be the Prefect's Secret Santa as well," Vil hummed, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's not how Secret Santa works," the Prefect sighed, before Crowley took over for them. "Precisely. And to ensure that everyone has a fair chance of being assigned as our beloved Prefect's Secret Santa, we will have the fairest means of competition possible!"

He took a box from under the table and placed it in front of everyone. "You all shall draw chits, and the person who's name you draw will be for whom you have to get a gift," he drummed his golden claws on the box as he pushed it in Riddle's direction.

"Mr. Rosehearts, if you would."

Riddle nodded, before putting his hand inside and pulling out a chit.

The process continued, with the Prefect being the last to pull out a name. Their eyes had widened on seeing what was written before they shoved the piece of paper in their pocket, refusing to answer Malleus and Kalim's questions of whose name they had pulled.

No one noticed the reclusive housewarden of Ignihyde slinking away in the shadows, the tips of his hair flaming a soft pink.

"Why did I have to get them, out of everybody?" Idia groaned into his pillow. The one time he decided to attend a housewarden meeting in person, he had to be roped into what was probably going to be the most awkward bonding activity.

"I do not have enough XP to get the Prefect a gift for Christmas," he mumbled to himself, turning to lie on his back. As Idia stared up at the ceiling, he continued airing out his grievances to the techomantic machines in his room.

"If it was any of the others I could have gotten them something. What do I get them...?"

Idia let out another groan, dragging his hands down his face. Maybe avoiding them after his overblot wasn't such a great idea...

But how could he have brought himself to talk to them after the entire fiasco that was his overblot? If there was anyone who knew all about the effects of overblots on victims and the people around them, it was him. Besides, Ortho had become fast friends with them, so he could always keep an eye on their state through him...

"Ortho!"

The young humanoid poked his head in through the door, only to be met with the frantic and helpless eyes of his brother.

"Help me get something for the Prefect!"

Idia sighed, wishing for not the first time and certainly not the last time to melt into the floor, if only to escape the stifling atmosphere in the room as the housewardens exchanged presents.

Distracted by the sight of ever oblivious Kalim handing a flustered Riddle an extremely expensive-looking tea set, he didn't notice when the Prefect snuck up on him.

"Hey."

"Sevens-!" He spun his head to look at them, eyes wide with shock and fear. "P-Prefect, you shouldn't creep up on me like that! That's t-too much for my poor otaku heart-!"

Idia's cheeks and hair tinted a light pink as they mumbled out an apology for startling him. They allowed him to calm down before speaking.

"So, who's the lucky person?" They asked, their gaze on the wrapped box in his hand. He felt his mouth dry, at a loss for words.

"T-this is, uh, it's for you, a-actually," he mumbled, feeling warm as he looked down at the neatly wrapped present before handing it to them.

The Prefect tilted their head, and Idia had to stop his squeal at how cat-like that action was. "You're my Secret Santa?"

Idia nodded, not trusting his words to be anything but a panicked jumble of how cute they were and how much he liked them and how he hoped they liked what he got for them because if they didn't then he would happily bury himself alive to escape the humiliation and embarassment and-

"What a coincidence! I'm your Secret Santa as well!"

"O-Oh." Idia's train of thought screeched to a stop, before roaring back and running at even higher speeds. Is this some sort of joke from the Seven? That just upped the difficulty level! Abort, abort mission right now!

They smiled, before pressing something into Idia's hands. The warmth of their smaller hands on his was equal parts comforting and panic-inducing. Had Ortho been there, he would have definitely remarked on his increased heartbeat and dilated pupils.

"I got you the merch that Precipice Moirai released recently. It isn't much, but..."

"Isn't much..? Wait, are you talking about those figurines they launched for their fifth anniversary?!" Idia's eyes widened as you nodded. "Even I couldn't get them anywhere because I was a bit late! How did you clear that quest so easily?!"

"Well... I entered the lucky draw they held just for fun, but ended up winning the figurines. And I knew that you wanted them, so-"

"How did you know I wanted this?" Idia asked. It wasn't his intention to be rude, but he was pretty sure that all of his groaning and moaning about losing the chance to own the ultra-rare, SSR tier merch was only heard by Ortho.

He watched as they hesitated before answering. "That's because... I heard you talking about it to Ortho a few times."

Idia's heart thundered in his chest. The Prefect was trying to not make eye contact with him, a clear sign that they weren't telling the entire truth.

"I, uh.. I didn’t know you paid this much attention to me"

"—I don’t. You just happen to talk really loudly and passionately about the things you like," they said, still refusing to make eye contact with him. Before Idia could tell himself that it was because the Prefect wanted to get over with this interaction as soon as they could, he noticed the darkness of their cheeks, and the colour on the tip of their ears.

"Oh. Well, thank you anyways, Prefect. I hope you'll like my gift as well," Idia said, an awkward, yet sincere smile on his face.

Back to Masterlist...

[make-me-imagine]

Hold My Hand

Plot: Tensions and feelings arise when you and Sherlock end up in a precarious situation when running from a murderer.

Prompts: Forced Proximity, Sexual Tension (mild), “Hold my hand and don’t you dare let go.” <changed slightly, I hope you don't mind

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes) x Gn!Reader

Written for @multifandomfix for their birthday event. Happy Birthday! I couldn't decide on one prompt so I kind of mashed a bunch together lol.

Warnings: Nothing really.

Words: 1k.

A/N: After watched Enola Holmes 1&2 I've been debating writing for Sherlock. I have a Christmas fic planned for him, and I thought this might be a good time to test it out. Also I had no idea what to title this lol.

-

Your throat was hoarse as you ran down the cobblestone street. You glanced behind you, seeing the man chasing you not far behind. Glancing to your right, you saw Sherlock, jaw clenched, hair flying as he ran beside you.

When you agreed to help Enola with her current case - which she fervently assured you wold be an easy one - running from a murderous and crooked inspector with Sherlock Holmes beside you, was not how you thought it would end up.

Slipping through a small group of people, you stumbled to a stop, as your eyes cast over the busy market square.

"The market?" You asked out of breath.

"Yes, we could lose him in here."

The bustling crowds would surely provide you cover from your assailant, giving you time to lose him, but you risked being split up in the busy crowd.

Apparently Sherlock had this same thought, as you felt his hand reach down and grab your own. You felt your heart jolt in your chest as you looked from his hand, to his eyes, which he locked with yours.

"Hold my hand and don't let go." His voice was tense, and his gaze sharp.

You nodded, before he quickly started off into the crowded market. His hand was gripped tightly around yours as you ran close behind him, slipping through the crowds of people.

Looking back behind you, you spotted the familiar bowler hat of the man chasing you, as he bobbed through the crowd. You could tell he was losing sight of you as he hesitated in his steps.

"Were losing him!" You called to Sherlock as you weaved past a large group of vendors.

Taking a sharp left, and slipping past a market stall, Sherlock pulled you into a thin, darkened crevasse of an alleyway.

The alleyway forced proximity between the two of you, as your chests pressed together. You felt Sherlock slowly let go of your hand. You moved your hands and planted them against the wall behind you. The pressure of Sherlock's grip slowly fading.

Noting the closeness of your bodies, you found yourself holding your breath. Your eyes locked for a moment and you felt something pass between you, before you both broke eye contact and peered out into the crowds.

If your sudden avoidance of eye contact was to avoid the tension that palpitated between you, or to look for your assailant, you weren't sure.

Your eyes moved from one person to another, waiting to see the man pass by. After a few moments of not seeing him, you felt nervousness and relief wash over you. You may have lost him for now, but he could be anywhere.

Looking back to Sherlock, you felt a small jolt course through you, as you saw his eyes already locked on you. You felt the back of your neck heat up, as his eyes bored into you.

The detective had made you nervous from the moment you met him. The way his eyes seemed to follow your every movement, the way he studied you, you couldn't help but wonder what he could see. It had to be something notable since he seemed determined to keep you with him since he agreed to help Enola with her case a day prior.

Finally breaking the tension that seemed to be growing heavier between you, you spoke with a hushed voice. "What now?"

Sherlock seemed to snap out of his thoughts as you spoke. He paused for a moment as he took a breath.

"Now, we slip out into the crowd, grab something that could disguise us, and find our way back to Enola. Hopefully she and Tewkesbury have gathered the evidence she needed while we were being chased through London. She should have had plenty of time. Once we have it, we take the evidence to Lestrade, and then-" He paused, his voice going silent.

You rose your brow lightly "And then?" You asked.

"And then-" He began, his voice soft, but you saw his thought falter as he spoke "And then the case is done."

You weren't sure why you thought he intended to say something else, but you felt the disappointment of it anyways. You nodded your head as you forced yourself to look away from him.

Peering out into the crowds, you mumbled softly. "Sneak out. Find a disguise. Find Enola. Case closed. Sounds easy enough."

Looking back at Sherlock, he had a soft smile on his face "Something Sounding easy, and being easy don't always coincide."

You smiled softly and shrugged your head "I guess we'll find out if it does this time."

As you began to step out from the alleyway, you jumped back when you felt Sherlock grab your hand

"Wait."

"What?" You asked as you looked around hurriedly "Did you see him?"

"No, no, we're fine, it's just..."

You eyed him with curiosity as he seemed lost for words. "What is it Sherlock?"

"I- I don't know how much time we will have to talk once we leave this alley and get back to Enola."

You felt your heartbeat speed up as your neck grew hot again. It was unusual seeing Sherlock Holmes uncertain.

"Yes..?"

"I- I have enjoyed my time with you these last few days. You...pique my interest in ways I find to be unexpected. So, if- if it is desirable to you. Perhaps, once this case is over, you would be willing to have dinner with me?"

His previously downcast gaze slowly rose to meet yours. The restraint you had to use not to show your surprise was great. But you remained stoic, before you smiled softly at him.

"I would love to have dinner with you Sherlock."

You saw the small hint of relief wash over his face before he smiled. With a nod of his head he spoke softly "Great. I could pick you up tomorrow, around six?"

You repressed the grin pulling at your face as you nodded "Alright, six it is."

His smile grew wider for a moment before he remembered your current situation. He cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we should go now, before we are found here."

You were jolted back into the moment as you nodded your head "Yes, right."

You both spared each other soft knowing smiles before you slipped from your hideaway. Sherlock's hand reluctantly slipped away from yours as you quickly returning to your previous business. But both of you anew with an excited and expectant energy.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

I have every intention of writing at least one more Sherlock fic, so if you wish to be tagged in that, or any future Sherlock fics, let me know! (Please be specific which Sherlock Holmes as there are multiple I write for)

[shaanks]

Hello!! So, for the lovely @quinloki 's birthday request event, I have written a thing!! It's a day later than I intended, but we made it!!

This thing is a monster and it got away from me lmfao, but I genuinely hope you enjoy it. :)))) Even in the short time I've known you, I've found you to be a lovely person and a wonderful friend, and you deserve all the fun and joy in the world. If this manages to be even a little part of that, I will be honored and thrilled.

So, without further ado, please allow me to introduce:

Cabin in the Woods

summary: A break-in, a road-trip, and a mysterious cabin all coalesce on what should have been a quiet Tuesday night in August. The world is changing, and our reader must adapt to a mystery they could not have imagined, and circumstances they could not have foreseen.

cw: op x reader with Sabo, dark content, yandere stuff. (nothing graphic or even violent really happens, but the circumstances are still there). there is a gun, but no gun violence is involved. no pronouns are used, but the reader is mentioned as having breasts and a vagina. there's smut, both explicit and implied. petnames used: darling, love, sweetheart, baby.

I don't think i'm forgetting anything but as always if this kinda stuff isn't your cup of tea, don't read it.

14k word count so it's going under a readmore, but yeah!! Here we go!

**

A bump in the road jolted you awake, head snapping up from where it had slumped against the passenger side window.

“Sorry love,” a soft, familiar voice whispered from beside you, accompanied by the soothing warmth of a palm smoothed over your thigh and you sighed, relieved, allowing your eyes to slip closed for a moment again before you straightened up in your seat.

It was hard to tell how long the two of you had been on the road. Sabo had insisted on driving so that you could rest, but that had been in the wee hours of the morning. It was still dark now, the sky a sickly, bruised grey that could have been dawn or dusk, and you scrubbed a hand over your face, trying to get your bearings. With a heavy sigh, you dropped your hand into your lap again, eyes roaming aimlessly around the car before settling on the dash radio. 5:15 AM.

You frowned, muted worry etching itself across your brow as you shifted your hand to rest atop the back of your fiance’s. He must have read the look in his periphery, or felt your concern seeping into his skin at your touch because he chuckled warmly, turning his hand palm-up to lace his fingers with yours.

“Don’t you worry, okay? I’m a veteran roadtrip driver, and besides...you needed the rest. Last night was…” your lover trailed off for a moment, something vague and inscrutable flittering across his features for a moment.

“...a little hectic,” you supplied, finishing his thought, and that gentle smile returned to his features once more as he regarded you with a wink.

“Hectic. Yeah. S’as good a word for it as any,” He squeezed your hand a little more tightly, rubbing his thumb along the back of it in tender, absentminded circles.

Silence settled back over your little car for a while then, and you turned your attention out the windows again, trying not to let the memory of the previous night, or the reason for your impromptu flight from civilization, enter your mind. When you’d drifted off, it had been on an empty, nondescript stretch of freeway, fallow farmland on either side, no other cars in sight beyond one lonely set of taillights which had bobbed along ahead of you for perhaps ten miles before drifting off down an exit of its own, leaving the two of you to the liminal solitude of late night travel.

If Sabo had pulled off at any stops along the way, he hadn’t woken you for them, but given that the scenery had changed from open farmland to winding, forested foothills, it couldn’t have been more than once. Under normal circumstances you might have chided him for it ‘Breaks are normal, it’s not worth the hour saved to give yourself a UTI trying to do the whole trip in one go,’ but given the circumstances…

You blinked your eyes shut hard, shaking the thoughts away before stretching to the side a little to rest your head on Sabo’s shoulder.

“Want me to take over for a bit, ‘Bo?” You asked softly, running your free hand up his forearm a little.

Sabo leaned over slightly, slumping his cheek against the top of your head for a moment before pressing a soft kiss there, lingering just long enough to breathe the scent of you in before straightening back up.

Nah, s’okay. We’re only a couple hours out from it now, and the side road is really hard to catch. Hell, I used to come out here every summer with my brothers, and I still drive right past it sometimes.” He said, the corners of his lips turning slightly upwards at the memory.

You adored his brothers, boisterous and warm in their own ways. They were the only people on earth that Sabo loved as much as you, and for a moment your heart clenched at the thought. Between the bars of your mental blockade, you hoped faintly that they were holed up somewhere safe, too. That they’d found their way out of the city before--

“Do you think we should try the radio again? See if there’s any news...any updates?” Your voice sounded grave, frightened and thin in your own ears, and you winced.

Sabo squeezed your hand a little more tightly. “...Let’s wait til we’re up at the cabin. If the car radio runs out of signal we’ve got the ham radio, and that old long-range one Luffy’s grandfather left up there.” He lapsed into silence for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, betraying the first hint of worry he’d let slip since your departure. “We beat the first wave out, and there’s nothing we can do ‘til we’re safe up there. Won’t help anything to get ourselves all wound up before then, right love?” his voice was low, reassuring, reasonable. He didn’t want you to be scared. You didn’t want you to be scared.

He offered you the out, and you took it. “Yeah. May as well get everything set up before we start taking stock of how bad it is.”

“Brilliant as always,” he crooned, lilting his voice with that cartoonishly syrupy sweetness that never failed to make you laugh. He grinned at the sound, heart fluttering in his chest, and exhaled a long, slow breath. He wasn’t worried about what might be on the radio. All that mattered was that he had you here, had you safe. Whatever else happened, you could weather it together.

**

True to his word, the little road that led back to the cabin was barely visible until the car was almost on top of it; even with the help of the morning light, filtering grey through the thickening cloud cover, the path Sabo slowed and pulled off onto could barely be called a road. You’d already pulled off the freeway maybe 30 minutes before, onto a two lane little back road that veered off and up into the hills and valleys beyond. This was an unpaved, overgrown footpath with delusions of grandeur, that seemed to meander almost aimlessly through the trees. Slowly but surely, the road behind you slid into the foliage and out of view, and though you knew he must be exhausted, you found yourself deeply grateful that Sabo had opted to finish the drive himself.

You could barely imagine picking your way through this on foot without prior knowledge, let alone in a car. At regular intervals Sabo’s side of the road would simply open up into nothing, offering a stunning view of the valley, of the forested mountain on the other side, and what you were sure was likely a precipitous drop off into the river below. The thought of it made you a bit queasy, despite the beauty of the scenery, and you leaned back into your seat, opting instead to watch the high wall of fallen leaves and hillside passing by on the passenger side.

“Just a little bit longer, I promise. The cabin’s just on the other side of the hilltop. You’re going to love the view. Plus it’s got good access to a little lake. The water is always unreasonably cold, but it’s gorgeous,” He said, turning his head only slightly towards you to keep his focus on the road. “Tell ya what, if the old rowboat is still functional, I’ll take you out on it. Tomorrow, after we’ve had some rest.”

You smiled at that, humming acquiescently. The thought of spending time out on the lake with him—spending time out anywhere with him—was wonderful, perfect, of course, though at the moment the only thing you could muster any true enthusiasm for was a long bath and the promise of a comfortable bed. The whole place was probably going to need aired out and dusted off, and while there was a generator Sabo had made it clear that it might need a little TLC before there would be any power. That was fine. If you two needed to spend the first night cooking hotdogs and smores in the fireplace, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

That phrase rattled around in your mind a little, and you shuddered. Sabo glanced at you, before reaching out and flicking the AC down a couple of notches.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. You squeezed his hand tightly, before drawing it up to your lips.

“With you? ‘Course not.” you whispered back.

He smiled, perhaps a little smugly, though that simply made you kiss the back of his hand once again.

**

When the road had finally meandered off the slope of the mountain you were on, following a little rise into a nestled clearing between peaks, you’d sighed in relief and slumped back in your seat, making Sabo laugh good-naturedly.

“The ride in is a little harrowing the first time, but I promise it’s gonna be worth it,” He’d said, letting go of your hand so he could ruffle it through your hair, and down to rest at the back of your neck, soothing the tense muscles with warm, precise little movements.

You weren’t honestly sure what you’d been expecting the cabin to look like. Vague images of a hunting lodge, of a summer camp bunk house, of a better homes and gardens style airbnb, and Rapunzel’s tower had all made their aimless way across your mind on the way in.

What you found was nothing short of magical. Even in the grey, dreary light of what had turned out to be a drizzly, windy sort of day, the little valley nestled between the peaks still seemed to glimmer with the echos of sun-warmed adventures and youthful secrets. The road you were on petered out into the soft green grass of a charmingly overgrown clearing. The hilltop seemed to cup the clearing like a giant hand, curving trees and bushes and delicate little wildflowers inward towards the cabin, more like the framing of a painting than the work of nature.

The cabin itself was larger than you’d anticipated, but not nearly as campish or dilapidated as Sabo had suggested. Dark old wood comprised both stories of the house, with a wraparound porch and swing visible as you approached, and a balcony on the one upstairs room you could see from this side.

The windows were boarded up, sure, but Sabo had assured you that was standard practice every time he and his brothers left the place for the season. Safer that way in case of storms, and it kept most of the animals from scratching around too much.

“We’ll pull the boards off the windows of the upstairs rooms so we can get a cross-breeze up where we’re gonna sleep. Rest of em we can work through tomorrow. No rush. We’ve got time to settle in.” he said, cheerful despite the situation, as he finally pulled the car to a stop, and killed the engine.

You leaned forward for a moment, taking in the place through the tinted blue of the top of the windshield, before unclipping your seat belt and climbing out of the car at long last. Without the rumble of the engine and the whirring of the AC, the place was even more beautiful. Wind swept through the valley, rustling in the trees, stray leaves twirling and trailing in the wind as they fell.

Sabo climbed out of the car too, leaning against the open driver’s side door to watch you, a gentle smile on his lips.

‘It’ll all be worth it. Even if all that ever came of it was this, it’d be worth it,’ the thought settled across his mind like gossamer silk, his eyes growing dreamy and unfocused, as he drank in the sight of your excitement. You seemed to glow in the gentle light that filtered down through the trees, and he knew in that moment that there was no one in the world more perfect than you. His love, his darling.

He could make you happy here. He would make you happy here. Happy, and safe, and loved. As you deserved.

You almost yelped in startled delight when you lowered your head from observing the trees around you to find Sabo directly by your side, lips quirked up into a grin. It was one of the things you loved about him, one of his many fascinating little quirks, he could be so quiet when he wanted to be. Your high little peal of laughter only widened his grin, and in one swift motion he had you lifted up into his arms, cradled against his chest, nestled into a grip that spoke of unfathomable reverence, and a heat that seemed always to be boiling just inches beneath his skin, a hunger that only ever found satiation in your love, your touch, your pleasure.

You looked up into the face of the man you loved breathlessly, the hint of color and responding heat beginning to touch your cheeks, and he sighed, letting those beautiful cornflower blue eyes of his slip closed, poorly feigning a chiding expression as he leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead.

“I see how it is,” he sighed airily, turning towards the cabin with you as though you weighed nothing at all. “What am I, compared to pretty leaves and a mysterious old cabin~” he intoned, hyperbolically mournful, and you rolled your eyes playfully before turning your head to kiss his chin.

“My guide through the darkness, as always,” you returned, mimicking his feigned mournfulness, though just as the words left your lips, Sabo carried you up onto the creaking old wood of the porch, and into the semi-darkness that came with it. The cloud cover was too heavy to throw off the pal of disuse, and you couldn’t quite manage to suppress the shiver that ran through you. Up close, with its boarded windows and unfamiliar shadows, there was something...ominous, about the place. Sabo stilled for a moment, glancing down at you, his playful expression giving way to concern, and something like remorse, as he set you gently onto your feet again.

“Nobody’s been out here in a couple years,” He squeezed your shoulders softly, rhythmically, before pulling you forward into a hug. “That’s all it is. There’s no way that anythi—that anyone would even know to come out this way beyond Ace and Luffy, and they’re out of state. You know that,” his voice was so even, so reasonable, and when he pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against yours you sighed, and nodded.

“Whatever’s happening out there, it can’t get to us here. I’ll keep you safe.”

You sighed, leaning in to kiss him, and as he stroked your cheek and let you sink into his warmth, you willed the worry to subside, at least a little.

“Yeah,” you whispered, and he nodded with a soft sigh before turning his attention back towards the task at hand.

He seemed to ponder the boarded up door for a moment, brows furrowing thoughtfully. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might have wondered whether you were locked out...but after a moment of “contemplation,” Sabo tilted his head down towards you, and winked.

“We always board everything up when we leave...except the front door. Watch,” Sabo leaned forward, running his fingertips along the outside of the door frame until something gave way with a small click. Without bothering with the visible lock and seemingly independently of the doorknob, the entire boarded up apparatus swung open a couple of inches, and Sabo pulled it open the rest of the way with a flourish.

“Is it...fake?” you asked, reaching out to touch the camouflaged button he had pressed, watching the simple release mechanism punch outwards curiously.

“False front door,” Sabo replied proudly, almost excitedly, as he ran his palm down the old wood. “One of the few good ideas Luffy’s grandfather ever had. The actual front door is on the lakeside of the house. This way, even if someone did somehow manage to approach from the road, all they’d see is what looked like a boarded up old house.”

Something about that felt a little odd. Why would such a decoy be necessary in general, let alone for a place as secluded as this? But beyond what sounded like an old man’s paranoia, you couldn’t quite place why it struck you so strangely, nor did you have time to properly contemplate it, as Sabo was moving ahead of you into the house, striding confidently into the gloom.

You hesitated in the doorway, still gripped by that odd sense of foreboding; distantly, the sound of thunder began to roll through the hills, and it might as well have been night for all the grey light did to illuminate the interior of the cabin. Little slits of feeble light peeped out from impossibly far back in the space, and you noticed, once the rumbling of thunder died down, that the cabin had fallen quite silent. You couldn’t hear the sound of Sabo’s boots on the wooden floor, nor any of his usual stream of cheerful commentary.

It was as though the house had simply swallowed him whole.

Behind you, the wind seemed to be slowly picking up in intensity again, carrying the distant rolling thunder closer. Fat droplets of rain began to plop down through the trees, into the grass, hitting the windshield with intermittent but purposeful force.

The anxiety of the previous night began to creep up the back of your neck again, adrenaline pooling in your lungs as cool as rainwater.

Pat. Pat. Splat.

You’d been dead asleep when it started. The crash of glass had jarred you awake, the sound of screaming shortly after like nothing you’d ever heard. High and ragged and inhuman, like someone burning, like agony and rage and consumption tearing insufficient human vocal cords raw in punishment for attempting to express a pain and hatred so vast.

The sound had frozen you to your core, welding your joints in place, leaving you trapped and horrified in what had only moments before been one of the safest places in your world. There was a moment of quiet, punctuated by gasping, sickened breathing, by the steady pattering of something thick and wet falling to the floor of your bedroom. Shambling steps cracked the glass that littered the floor, erratic, listless...and this time, when that primal shriek ripped through the nauseating silence, you jolted beneath your sheets. Just barely. Just enough.

Something heavy had pressed down on the end of the bed, so close to your frozen legs that any further movement would have brought you into contact instantly. The thick, wet liquid dripped against the blankets as the unseen thing made its unsteady way up towards the headboard where you lay and it stank, rot and decay flooding your nostrils, turning your stomach almost enough to make you retch--

If it hadn’t been for Sabo, if he’d taken even a second longer, if he hadn’t dropped his water glass to shatter in the sink and flown down the hallway like a man possessed, it might have touched you. It might have dribbled that foul bile onto your face, into your mouth, and you would have screamed...you were sure you would have died. But as it was, you never saw it. Mercifully, you never saw it.

The weight had lifted from the bed the second your bedroom door had crashed open, and though you still hadn’t quite been able to make yourself move you heard it, Sabo’s fury and something that sounded suspiciously like metal as it sang through the air, only to crash into the thing with a sickening crack.

When he’d pulled you out of bed, he’d faced you away from the thing. From the mess you were sure must lay just beside where you’d been sleeping. The second he had you standing, the same spell that had frozen you sent you spinning into action, and he followed your lead. The two of you had grabbed what was easiest, throwing food and ice into a cooler, grabbing the first aid kit you usually kept for camping excursions, and you’d been in the car and out onto the road without evening looking back.

If it hadn’t been for several overturned cars, for several houses that stood like guttered ghosts with gaping eyes of broken glass, for the smoke that rose and billowed in the direction of town, it might have seemed like a normal night.

Sabo had turned on the radio only long enough to confirm that they were in range of nothing but the emergency broadcast system. Other than that one set of lonely taillights, you might have been the only two people left on--

All at once, the cabin lighting sprang to life, startling you from your reverie in a moment of mingled relief and panic. The warm orange glow of welcoming old lights filled the previously menacing space, and faintly over the sound of the rising storm, the labored rumbling of the generator could be heard.

“Looks like Ace actually left the thing topped off last time he was here, but we can still cook out in the fireplace if you w—” Sabo jogged back into view from where he’d disappeared—either to the basement or the back of the house—but his triumphant tone sagged into worried silence when he found you, ashen, still standing in the open doorway where he’d left you.

“I’m okay,” you said, though your voice wavered unconvincingly. A gust of wind splattered the steady drizzling rain against the back of your neck and this time you did jump, before stepping over the threshold and closing the door a bit harder than you’d intended.

“I’m okay.” You said again, more an order for your own frightened heart than a reassurance for your fiance, but he stepped forward anyway and pulled you into his arms again.

“We’re okay,” Sabo replied.

You breathed deeply into the warmth of his chest, and believed him.

**

That first day passed in a near constant stream of activity that kept your mind thankfully occupied, either by the seemingly endless stream of maintenance tasks the cabin seemed to need, or the loving, doting, and supportive attentions of your lover.

The storm that had blown in had made getting the windows unboarded and opened untenable, but the downstairs bathroom hadn’t required much to get to a usable state, and with the boiler kindly willing to acquiesce to your request to light, you’d been able to share a hot bath before changing into your set of spare clothes.

By the time you were nestled down in the sea of blankets Sabo had pulled out of their vacuum-sealed prisons and roasting hot dogs in the fireplace, the memory of the night before had slunk back into the recesses of your mind again, like the dregs of a bad dream. Sabo had said something about the storm likely interfering with the radio, and that he’d try to get it working once it had blown over.

You hadn’t argued. Eventually, you knew, you would have to open those floodgates, to see how bad things were...but if you had to wait another night to make it real, that was okay.

When your lover had rolled you gently onto your back in that sea of blankets, in the warmth of the dying fire and the storm raging outside, you had opened beneath him like a flower. He’d made short work of the boxers you’d borrowed, of the t-shirt which had been your only quick option during your flight.

The warmth of his hands as they cradled you to him, as they lifted your hips onto the improvised cushions and angled your body into a comfortable position, burned away, at least for the moment, any worries for the world outside.

Instead you sank into the sight of him, into the way the firelight seemed to dance across every inch of soft skin, every furrow of relaxed muscle, entranced by the way his belly contracted as he shimmied out of his pajama pants.

“Beautiful,” You’d whispered, as you opened your arms to him, following the familiar lines of muscle up over his shoulders to clasp around him, to close the gap between you that kept his warmth so cruelly from you.

“Not like you, love,” Sabo sighed softly, reverently, stifling any possible retort as he licked into your mouth at last, lapping over your tongue, tasting you as much as kissing you until any breath, any thought but desire for him, had been consumed.

Sabo had always been ravenous, had always run you up against the limits of what you thought you could take with, and though he was as gentle and supportive of your pleasure as he was of all aspects of your life, there was always that glimmer. That glint in his eye that suggested he would always need one more, one more from you, to ever properly be sated.

That night, with the outside world denied entry and the distractions of your previous life distant and moot, he was like a man possessed.

Even as the kiss left you gasping, wanting, he’d trailed lower, suckling marks into your throat that would take days to fade, lapping and soothing over each one as though determined to taste every inch of you.

“You know I’d give you all of me...everything I am,” his voice, usually so smooth and even and honey-sweet, came out raw and low, more a sensation against the peak of your nipple than voice before he closed his mouth around the bud, swirling it with his tongue as a promise of pleasure to come. Warmth blossomed through your body and when you whined softly in response, body flexing as you arched your back to press more of yourself into his mouth, he obliged in earnest, his palm sliding between your shoulderblades and lifting you like you weighed nothing at all.

Under any other circumstance he might have teased you. Might have made you ask, might have made you use your words, but the patience required had fled him. He kissed across your chest, watching the way your eyes fluttered, the way you flushed and writhed at his touch, and simply could not imagine a world where making you wait could be worth it. At least, not today.

This time, when he closed his mouth over the sensitive peak of your nipple, the fingers of his free hand trailed lower, soothing over your belly, calming your writhing body down even as he worked his teeth into the tender flesh there. This time when you cried out, he moaned sympathetically in return, as though the sudden surge of pleasure had rushed straight from your nerves into his, though he did nothing to lessen the intensity, the sympathetic noise turning into a low groan of need as his fingers dipped lower still, stroking the slick building between your thighs gently.

“Sabo, please,” your voice, thick and heavy with need, with a desperation much bigger than the moment, snapped his gaze towards yours for a moment.

“I know, I know,” he’d whispered, burying the quirk of his lips between your breasts, down your belly, nestling momentarily in the tuft of hair just above where you needed him most. “Gotta get you ready, darling, I—”

Rather than finishing the thought, rather than giving you the opportunity to thrash or beg him further, Sabo had dipped his tongue between your lips, watching you with hazy eyes as the taste of you flooded his senses. He teased the hood of your clit with the tip of his tongue, barely swiping over it in little circles before dipping lower, kissing between your legs, licking and suckling you open.

By the time he’d lifted his head again, chin slick with the evidence of your need, you almost felt hysterical. He watched in mesmerized pride as your clit twitched like a second heartbeat, swollen almost entirely out from under its hood, though only for a moment before finally giving you what you needed. The sound you made when he’d closed his lips around your desperate nub had almost sounded wounded, and Sabo had smoothed his palms up the backs of your thighs, tapping them wordlessly to get you to hold them while he drove you towards your peak.

It took almost nothing for the first orgasm to take you, racing up and crashing against your clit with every swirled beat of his tongue, though he’d given you only a moment to revel in it before slicking two fingers into your spasming cunt. He knew your body better than his own, knew where the little spot inside you was that made you growl and thrash in his arms like a thing wild, and he grinned against your core as your breathlessness gave way to a wail of pleasure that might almost have contained his name.

He didn’t let you rest. The pleasure of the first orgasm never quite ebbed enough to end as he dragged you through the pleasure up, up towards another peak. You were burning in his arms, beneath his mouth, molten desire stripped of more complex concerns, and he hadn’t even filled you yet.

“M’ready, I’m ready, S—aaa, Sabo please, plee-eeeaaa,” your pleas dissolved into another wordless groan as the pleasure began to crest again; this time when you came, your back arched so sharply that it practically lifted off the floor, your legs falling open at your sides as sense momentarily left you, displaced by the sensitive ecstasy he had driven into you.

You’d looked down then, vision hazy and eyes half-lidded through a cloud of bliss, and the small part of your mind still capable of thought expected to see him pulling away, getting to his knees, surely, surely you were wet enough now, pliant enough now...but the gaze that met yours from where your lover still lay between your legs seemed almost maddened with lust. At some point in the fog of your pleasure he had moved, knees spread out in a low crouch, and despite your previous two orgasms arousal twisted low in your guts as you realized he was rutting himself against the blankets beneath him, mindlessly soothing his own need while he drank from yours.

“Awww, I felt that, baby,” he whispered against you, grinning positively lethally in the firelight as you clenched and dribbled around his fingers. “Do you like that? Do you like knowing what you do to me, my love? How desperate you make me?” his voice was low, almost teasing despite all, as he rutted his hips against the blankets in quiet demonstration.

“Yes...fuck, yes,” you hadn’t bothered to hide it, he knew, and even if he didn’t, it wasn’t like your body was capable of covering for your lie. Sabo kissed the inside of your thigh in appreciation, though that hunger seemed to rise in him again when he slicked his fingers out of you only to watch your hole flutter around nothing.

Part of him wanted to simply dive back down into you, to slick his tongue in as deeply as he could and drink until he was full...but that would have been selfish. And besides...he had all the time in the world now worship at the altar of your thighs.

Gently, carefully, Sabo shifted his weight, sitting up on his knees properly again. He rested his cock, swollen and red and leaking, along the entire length of your slit as he leaned over your, taking his weight on one splayed palm so that he could lean down over you, nuzzling his forehead against yours. Beneath all that ferocious hunger, he loved you so, and the warmth that spread through his chest at the way you lifted your watery eyes to meet his almost quelled the need scrabbling between his ribs.

Almost.

He allowed you one last moment to breathe, enjoying the way you rolled your hips against his as he rutted the head of his cock against your clit once, twice, and then he was guiding himself lower, slick with your own pleasure and his slick as he rocked himself forward, fucking himself just barely through the spasming ring of your opening. The heat of you nearly knocked him senseless, and the mingled cry of desperate pleasure and relief was so mutual that there was no way to tell where your voice stopped and his started. His hips stuttered, pleasure surging through him at even this shallow connection, and he only managed to pull himself partially out of you before plunging back down, this time to the hilt.

Whether it was the terror that had driven you here, or the desperation for the normalcy of this intimacy, you might never know, but you would have sworn in that moment that you’d never felt so full in your entire life. Sabo gasped again, the sound sending rippling shocks of pleasure out from where you were connected, grinding himself in deeper still, fucking little spurts of precum against your cervix. When he kissed you it was so soft as to be jarring; a tender lament for what was to come.

Carefully, purposefully, Sabo moved you, unhooking the leg you had wrapped around his waist on instinct so that he could drape your knees over his elbows. Palms splayed against the makeshift bed as he held you open, letting you feel the way he pulsed and twitched inside you as he pulled halfway out, and fucked down in again, angling his hips to rut over the spot he’d been worrying with his fingertips before.

“Breathe for me, love,” he whispered, tone almost cloyingly sympathetic as he drove his hips downwards, patience finally slipping away as he took you in deep, rough strokes.

The instruction did nothing to stop the way the pleasure rushed into you again, leaving no room for air, for thoughts, for intention. Your eyes rolled back, and Sabo suckled your tongue into his mouth, toying with it the way he had your clit even as he ground his hips down to scrub against the little nub in turn.

You were going to cum again, he was going to make you cum again, and you babbled incoherencies against his tongue as that familiar feeling began to twist and tighten inside you again.

“That’s it darling, that’s it. Perfect love, gorgeous, do it for me, I know you can,” he panted against your lips, and you could feel it too, the way he was swelling inside you, the way his hips were starting to stutter and twitch.

You wanted him to feel good, needed him to follow you over the edge this time, and you knew he knew, somehow, knew he could tell what you wanted like he was living inside your head with you. Some distant part of you wondered if he was. If that would really be so bad.

With a last push of coordination Sabo wedged his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and pressing down against it, rubbing neat, almost vicious circles, and you were gone, that final orgasm chasing away any sense that wasn’t the pleasure he fucked down into you. The all-consuming heat of it stole his breath too, and it was all he could do to rut you through it before he had to bury himself in you, teeth clenched and cock twitching as he filled you with hot, thick spasms of his pleasure.

Time seemed to trickle by, thick and slow as the heat between you as you both tried to settle back into reality. Love seemed to cradle you in all directions as Sabo murmured to you, gentle praise and careful check-ins melding together in your mind into a comforting static of safety.

You weren’t sure when sleep took you, only that when it did it was to the feeling of your lover’s lips against yours, and the soft slickness of his cock softening out of you. Bliss.

**

It almost felt like a honeymoon, despite the circumstances. That first week had been a whirlwind of activities, interspersed with spontaneous, increasingly intense lovemaking that left you dizzied, but satisfied and contented.

Sabo had always been an early riser, and you often found that by the time you joined him—at the oh-so-late hour of 9ish every morning—he had completed some new battery of tasks that left the day open for less strenuous maintenance, or walks down by the lake, or a bonfire in what turned out to be a very lovely firepit in the back yard.

If it hadn’t been for what had driven you from your home to begin with, you might have been content to simply let yourself fall into the routine he had set up for the two of you. Sabo certainly seemed devoted to keeping your mind off things—he hated to see you worry, hated the idea of you ever having to feel frightened—and had it not been for the issue of the radio, you might have settled into this new life without terribly much regard.

Sabo had always been, as far as you knew, an open book with you. Even when you’d just started dating, even when your relationship was fresh and tentative and new, he had always answered your questions honestly, had prioritized open communication and honesty as a core tenet of your life together.

So it concerned you when, after a week of trying to get signal, Sabo had outright refused to let you into the radio room to give it a try.

You’d thought he was joking at first, had laughed and tried to brush past him, but he’d taken your hand and spun you into a little dip, dancing you away towards the stairs that led down to the loft room you’d taken up residence in.

“It’s kinda...unsafe in there, to be honest,” he’d said, when it was clear that simply kissing you wasn’t going to put the conversation to bed.

“What do you mean ‘unsafe,’” you’d asked skeptically, the corners of your lips still upturned in a grin despite all, half-convinced this was all one of his jokes, though the good humor had started to melt back towards confusion and concern when his expression didn’t give.

For a long moment, Sabo didn’t answer. Instead he chewed on the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused, and something in your stomach started to churn.

“Did you hear something?” you asked quietly. Sabo shook his head firmly.

“No no, nothing like that, it’s just. The only room in the cabin that’s not really finished.” He paused again, like he was trying to choose his words carefully, and when he met your gaze again there was something mournful, a little, in the blues of his eyes.

“Luffy’s grandfather set that room up in case of...emergencies. We weren’t even allowed to go into it while he was still alive, none of us had seen it until the deed to the place passed to us with his will. It’s just…” another short pause, and then. “It’s...boobytrapped. Kind of.”

There was a slight pause. Part of you had been tempted to laugh at the suggestion, vague images of Roadrunner and Wil E. Coyote running through your mind, but something in his expression stopped you from doing so.

“What kind of boobytraps…” you asked carefully, rubbing his arms with your palms. Sabo just shook his head.

“Luffy’s grandfather...Garp...got a little paranoid towards the end. He was sure Ace’s biological father was going to show up, that he needed to be ready for some kind of an attack…”

“Was he not on good terms with Ace’s father?” You asked quietly.

“No idea, we never knew him. By the time Garp started talking about this, Ace’s dad had been dead for nearly 20 years.”

Whatever concern or confusion had settled into your heart began to give way to sadness. Sabo’s eyes slid away from yours for a moment before he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, but the guy’s ex-military, special forces, we only figured out there was anything wrong with the room because Luffy stepped on a loose board and almost lost his foot to some kind of wire trap set into the space beneath it.”

You sighed heavily, glancing warily over his shoulder to where the door to the radio room stood partially ajar.

“Sorry baby, I shouldn’t have pressed,” you started, but Sabo shushed you, pulling you into his arms and rocking you gently.

“Nothing to be sorry for, I’d have been curious too! It’s just...tough to talk about. I’ve got it mostly mapped out in there, but I’d die if you got hurt, and it seems safe to assume there probably aren’t...hospitals. To take you to, in any event.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and nodded, and for a time you let the radio room and its mysteries slip out of your mind. If he caught a signal, you knew he would tell you, and until then...it seemed reasonable to give the room a wide berth.

**

The real trouble started when your hastily gathered supplies began to ran low. Clothes weren’t really an issue, the cabin had a washer and a line to dry things on, and enough dry detergent to last the next 20 years, but the food had began to dwindle after the third day, and while the lake seemed to be well stocked with fish, running it dry didn’t make a lot of sense.

Hunting wasn’t an option, neither of you were particularly proficient with firearms, and the idea of killing and gutting anything bigger than a fish turned you both off immensely...which left only one real option.

“I’m going to make a run into town—”

“We’re going to make a run into town—”

“There’s one just about a half hour away back up the main road, and I’ll be back before you can even miss me,” Sabo said, kissing your forehead and then your nose despite the fact that you had crossed your arms rather tightly against your chest and were refusing to budge.

He sighed. You arched your eyebrows and stared at him, waiting.

“Do you think I’m not capable of putting canned food in a shopping cart?” you asked dryly.

Sabo scrubbed a hand over his face, looking helpless. “Of course not, this has nothing to do with competency or ability,” he said evenly, though that mournful look at begun to creep its way into his eyes again.

“Okay. Then help me understand. This is basic horror movie rules, Sabo, don’t split the group, don’t send people off on their own. How do I keep in contact with you with no phones, what if the car breaks down, what if you d—” you stop yourself, wincing, irritated at the tears prickling the edges of your eyes.

Gently, patiently, Sabo pried your arms apart, rubbing and relaxing the muscles until you went limp enough for him to take your hands.

“I’m going to come back. I know it’s horror movie rules, but another horror movie rule is to not leave home base unattended, right?” he asked, kissing the backs of both your hands. You scowled up at him, though the expression was somewhat dampened when you leaned forward to gently bonk his forehead with yours. He laughed, the chiming sound of it wriggling stubbornly into your heart, and you sighed.

“Okay...next time I’m going though. We’ll trade off. Deal?” You asked.

Sabo linked his pinky with yours. “I’ll even bring back walkie-talkie’s, there’s a hunting store in town that ought to have decently long range ones.”

You nodded, placated for the time being, though it made you queasy with anxiety to watch him pulling away from your little safe haven, even moreso to watch the way the little car seemed to vanish into the foliage like it had never been there at all.

Sabo felt it too, nausea churning in his stomach as he pulled away. He knew you’d be safe this far out, but leaving you behind felt awful.

Lying to you felt awful, too. You were so good, so loving, so trusting, and it broke his heart to have to not be honest with you...but it was only for a little while longer. Routine cured a great many ills, and once he had everything settled, your life together would be secure. Unshakable.

Just a little while longer.

**

It had been eerie, a little, that first time, walking back up into the cabin alone. Not quite so ominous as the very first day, but the silence of it was unsettling. Without the semi-constant flow of conversation with your lover, or the sound of hammering, or the promise of outdoor activities, the reality of your situation...of, potentially, the world’s situation...began to creep in at the corners again.

Sabo had made fairly quick work of...whatever the creature had been, that was sure, but he had taken it by surprise. And there had only been one.

What if they moved in groups? What if only some of them were shambling and loud and slow like that that? What if—

You shut the thoughts down, slapping your hands gently against your cheeks until the mental noise started to subside. If you were going to be functional through this, you were going to have to learn to adapt...and to trust the man you loved to keep his promises.

He would come back to you, car loaded with enough soup to make you sick of the prospect, and everything would be fine.

For a moment you had simply stood in the middle of the livingroom, looking around the space thoughtfully. Most of the actually necessary maintenance had been done by now, the only rooms still boarded were ones where the glass had been damaged somewhat, whether by the storm or disuse.

You’d found so many bed linens and vacuum-sealed bags of clothes you’d both wondered how many people Garp had actually intended to have stay at the cabin, despite Sabo’s assurances that to his knowledge he, Luffy, Ace, and the old man had been the only ones he’d ever seen there.

Still, there were two floors and a basement full of closets and storage that it would hurt nothing to sort through, and so you set about that task. In a blind stroke of luck, the first closet you’d gone through in one of the side rooms on the first floor had contained a record player, and five boxes worth of old vinyls. That, at least, was something, and you had chased the eerie silence out of the cabin with The Eagles and Steely Dan while you worked.

By the time Sabo came back—almost exactly an hour and a half on the dot—you had cleaned out several shelves worth of vinyls, card games, and board games, and were feeling in considerably better spirits.

Your lover had laughed when he’d come in to find you sitting in a sea of old school entertainment, blasting classic rock, and you’d dashed up into his arms, kissing him thoroughly once you’d checked to make sure he wasn’t injured.

“Not a hair out of place, just like a promised,” he’d said, cradling your cheeks to kiss you back for a moment before reaching around you to turn the record player off. You’d gone out with him then to find a pretty impressive haul. Canned food, a better can-opener than the rusty old one in the kitchen, what looked like bulk boxes of jerky and dried meats from what was likely backstock, dried beans, rice, a rice cooker, snacks, a much nicer first aid kit, and, as promised, two long range walkie-talkies.

“This should hold us for a month if we’re careful with it, and fish at least once a week,” he said. You blinked up at him.

“Sabo I’m reasonably sure there’s enough soup and rice here to last us to Christmas if we had to ration,” you said, looking at all of it. Nothing was in bags, as though he had hastily loaded everything he could grab into carts and dumped it into the car.

Silence stretched between you for a long moment.

“How bad was it,” you asked quietly, watching his expression carefully.

Sabo exhaled, long and slow. “Not as bad as it could have been, maybe. Mostly it looks like people just evacuated, there’s a lot of places to hide in the mountains, but…” he worried the inside of his cheek for a moment, and ran his hand through his hair. “There were a lot of places that looked...damaged. Windows smashed in, a couple of places looked burned out. I didn’t...see anything. Anyone. But there was blood. In too many places to just have been an accident, I fear.”

Wind swept through the clearing, rustling through the trees, and a small part of your new reality began to settle over the pair of you at last. There was plenty of what had been to scavenge...but it did not seem as though there was anything to go back to.

“If things are that bad all the way out here, then the cities…” you trailed off, eyes focused a little too heavily on a can of chicken soup.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Sabo sighed. “Only thing we can do is stick it out here, and keep trying to find something on the radio.” He paused for a moment before leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Hey, at least we don’t have to worry about paying off those student loans anymore,” he said, kissing your cheek, and despite all you laughed just a little.

“That is one of the perks of the apocalypse. No rent either, credit scores are dead…” you said, glancing up at him with the tiniest grin before tugging him back towards the house.

“At least we’re together,” you added, and he beamed.

“At least we’re together.”

It took both of you, a bed sheet, and three trips to get everything he’d packed into the car in the house, and another hour spent organizing the kitchen into a well stocked and usable resource.

As you’d curled up together to sleep that night, you resolved to set what was out of your mind. There would be time to grieve...forever, perhaps, to grieve...but the first priority had to be keeping each other safe, and your spirits high. All you’d ever really had before was each other, at least on a daily basis, and you could do worse in the nebulous end of the world than having the love of your life by your side.

Sleep took you more easily, and when thunder rolled and rumbled through your little valley, nestled warmly in Sabo’s arms, you didn’t even stir.

**

Months passed, late summer blend into fall bled into early winter, and you and Sabo had fallen mostly into a comfortable routine.

Intermittently, perhaps a handful of times, Sabo had managed to raise someone on the radio. The people he contacted seemed healthy, sometimes scared, but nobody he spoke to seemed to know any more than they did. Occasionally, one of them would be willing to share their approximate location, but according to Sabo this part of the country had never been particularly trusting of strangers at the best of times, and he wasn’t terribly surprised most people didn’t want to give up their safe havens.

The people you did get information out of went up on a map you two had set up. While mostly people wouldn’t tell where they were, they were willing to share info about towns nearby, about the accessibility of supplies, and the levels of...activity that they’d seen.

It had been decided, after a week’s worth of debating back and forth, that given what appeared to be an increasing amount of activity, and given that Sabo was vastly more familiar with this area of the state than you were, that he would do the supply runs. They were few and far between, provided that he found well-enough stocked stores, and with the compromise that he go as early as possible, so that he wasn’t running around in broad daylight for...whatever might be there to see, you had eventually acquiesced.

The cabin was remote, but there was logic to keeping it locked and guarded with at least one occupant, as whatever this new world’s creatures were, they weren’t the only possible dangers that might crop up. While neither of you liked it, on the second big supply run Sabo had returned home with a rifle.

“You don’t have to use it, but I’d feel a lot better if you at least had it.” He’d explained, as you’d looked the thing over on the front lawn, frowning.

The idea of someone just stumbling onto your little refuge seemed extremely unlikely...but so had the world ending on a random Tuesday evening in August, previously. While you’d been mostly opposed in your previous life, it would have been silly to deny the ambient protection having the thing around provided. In the end, you’d agreed to keep it by the front door for emergencies during the day, and by your bedroom door for emergencies at night, and that had been the end of it.

All-in-all, you felt that the two of you were doing pretty well, all things considered. The cabin was comfortable and well-secured, you’d worked out a supply-running system that seemed to be keeping Sabo safe, and while the other people he’d found weren’t...accessible...knowing that the two of you weren’t the only people who had made it out, at least within range of the radio, was comforting enough to keep you both in good spirits.

For better or worse, everything seemed...perfect.

Which was why, when you were sorting through the most recent supply haul, trying to get all the consumables sorted from the toiletries and such, you weren’t exactly sure what to make of the slip of paper.

You’d almost thrown it away without thinking, eyes glazing over it when it dropped from between two bottles of shampoo, but just before it slipped out of your fingers and your mind entirely, you paused. Froze, rather, in the middle of the movement, and turned the paper over to look at it.

It was a receipt. It had been folded up and in on itself multiple times, long enough, perhaps, to accommodate the long list of supplies currently spread out at your feet.

Something acrid and metallic felt like it was creeping up your windpipe. Quickly, you had poked your head around the corner to check where Sabo was, only to find him chopping wood in the back yard, his breath clouded around his face in the cool winter air.

You watched him, your great love, until he looked up and smiled. You smiled back, and laughed a little when he blew you a kiss before going back to work.

You looked at him, and at the folded piece of paper on the counter, then back at him.

Maybe it was old. Neither of you had been the most fastidious people alive in the times before, perhaps this was simply from a long past shopping trip. Maybe it was from CVS, maybe that’s why it appeared to be several feet long.

That horrible, cold feeling lingered in your chest, though. Part of you wanted to look at it, if only to confirm that you were being ridiculous. Part of you felt like looking at it was a betrayal, was suggesting that you didn’t trust the love of your life.

Part of your mind began to turn over the radio room again, the fact that he was the only one leaving the clearing, that you hadn’t seen any part of the outside world beyond the lake and trails and grounds of the cabin in months.

It was absurd. A terrible train of thought. The manifestation of deferred grief, trying one last time to reason its way out of the end of your old life. You took a deep breath before picking up the piece of paper, determined to simply throw it away and be done, but the door opened just as you were about to let it go. On instinct, terrified for reasons you couldn’t imagine naming, you had stuffed it into your pocket instead, grabbing a jar of peanut butter and plastering on a grin just as Sabo came around the corner into the kitchen.

He paused for a moment at the sight of you, brows knitting together curiously as he approached you.

“You alright darling? You look a little pale,” he said, though he still stuffed his chilly fingers under your shirt, making you jump and laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, a little breathlessly, as you forewent the peanut butter in favor of warming him in your arms. “Just trying to get everything edible sorted out from cleaning stuff and meds, I think I’m just hungry,” you said bracingly, and he visibly relaxed.

“Tell ya what, let’s have a bath, and then I’ll get the stove going so we can make dinner, there’s enough wood chopped up to last us through the week I think,” he said, kissing your lips, your forehead, your nose.

You sighed contentedly, leaning into his affections with a nod. “Sounds perfect ‘Bo,” you said, and he grinned before popping off to run the water.

You stood there for a moment, fingertips brushing the outline of the receipt in your pocket, before calling out to Sabo that you were going to grab you both some fresh clothes and then you’d be in to join him. He acquiesced airily, easily, and you dashed upstairs, guilt and fear clawing at your throat.

You hated lying to him. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had. You stashed the crumpled receipt inside your pillowcase, before grabbing the promised clothes to bring down to him.

Next time he left, you’d look. It would be nothing, he’d laugh it off or console you for the misunderstanding...it would be nothing. You had no reason in the world to suspect him—objectively, the world’s most perfect partner—of anything at all. Let alone whatever your paranoid little mammal brain seemed to be trying to put together here.

When you reappeared with comfortable clothes and sank down into the bath with him, he held you tightly, washed your hair, your back, drained the water and refilled it when it started to cool, and made tender, gentle love to you until the water had half sloshed out and you were both laughing and sated.

‘Stupid,’ you’d thought dreamily, sleepily, as your fingers brushed the receipt later, tucked into bed and warm and safe.

‘I’ll just throw it away in the morning,’ you promised silently, as Sabo’s arms drew you into sleep.

But you didn’t though.

You kept it on you, somewhere, at all times. A strange, cursed talisman, unopened and dangerous, Schrödinger’s evidence of something unformed and unfathomable that you couldn’t bring yourself to define.

The winter holidays came and went, a New Year passed, to be spent fully in the new world you’d come to accept. The folded, worn piece of paper burned a hole in your pocket until finally, towards the end of January, supplies had dwindled low enough that Sabo announced he would be going on another run.

If he noticed your tension, or the way you seemed to hover and linger around him while he mapped out the route, he seemed to attribute it to nerves. Which wasn’t entirely an inaccurate, made it feel at least a little less like lying when you wrapped your arms around him and made him promise, as always, to come back to you safely.

**

Sabo watched you in the rearview mirror as he drove away, watched the little wave you raised as he trundled onto the path...and watched you disappear into the house before he’d made it fully into the trees.

Something was wrong. Like a miasma wafting through the air, nebulous, maddening, something had been wrong for weeks now.

It wasn’t always, of course, it wasn’t even often...but it was enough. Every now and again he’d catch you staring into space, eyes furrowed, worrying at the seams of your pants like you were trying not to be sick.

You never flinched away when he reached for you in those moments, always sank into the comfort of his touch...but you wouldn’t talk about it, either. At first, he’d been willing to brush it off as grief; your whole life, your whole world had changed, outside of your relationship with him. It was only natural that, eventually, that that wound would need tended to.

It was the little moments of fear that he couldn’t quite place, that unsettled him the most. Sometimes he would walk into the room and you would jump, startled; you always laughed it off as a moment of inattention, but even minutes later that haunted look would still be there, glimmering in the depths of your eyes…

He hated it. He hated that something was frightening you...and he hated that he couldn’t figure out what it was. He’d made sure everything here was as perfect, as comfortable, as safe and quiet and enjoyable as he possibly could. You had routine, you had fresh air, good food, books and games and music and—not to be forward—as many orgasms as he could give you in a given night.

Everything was perfect. So what had changed? What was different now, that hadn’t been there before?

Sabo pulled to a stop at the opening of the little side road, staring at the depression on the other side of the road for a moment before picking up the walkie-talkie.

“Eagle 1 to Kid Gorgeous, you there baby?” Sabo called casually into the receiver, and waited.

And waited. And waited.

He frowned, his heartbeat starting to falter, to race.

Something was wrong.

You’d never taken this long to answer, not since the first time when you’d accidentally gotten on different channels. Sabo pulled out onto the street wide, pulling back around to head back to the house, when the receiver crackled to life. He stopped dead in the street in his haste to answer it.

“Sorry, sorry hon, Kid Gorgeous was an idiot and dropped the pitcher of iced tea on the floor,” your voice settled over his frightened heart like balm on a wound, and he sighed, almost laughing before pressing the button down to answer you.

“Eagle One’s sorry to hear that, do you need me to come back and take care of the glass?”

“No, no, nothing here broken but a pitcher and my pride. Hopefully they’ve got another one where you’re headed.”

Sabo sighed, willing himself down out of panic mode, and put the car in drive, turning back onto the road again. “Roger that. I love you.”

“I love you, too, ‘Bo.”

With a deep breath, he set the receiver down in the cupholder, and willed himself to let the paranoia go.

If there was something wrong, you’d deal with it together. He had to trust you, he had to, or this was never going to work.

**

Sabo had been gone for maybe an hour by the time you collapsed onto the livingroom couch, annoyed with yourself and sweaty in the heat of the cabin despite the chill outside.

Part of you just wanted to take a shower and lay down, sleep through the empty hours until your lover returned. This time he was going on a run a couple little towns over, having mostly exhausted anything useful from the tiny town you’d been taking things from so far.

Your bed was comfortable, and so inviting after cleaning up glass and spilled tea and feeling very silly indeed...but the receipt was also up there, burning a hole in the innocent linen of your pillowcase.

Unwilling to go up there and face it, even for the reward of a nap, you had picked yourself up, resolved to grab a granola bar and head to the back of the cabin, to start going through the larger storage closet and its contents.

This little organization project had become something of a personal challenge for you, and Sabo had respected it, sitting with you while you worked on it sometimes, but largely leaving it to you. It was nice to have something to be working on ongoingly, nice to have something to do beyond just tidying up and listening to music when you were guarding the fort.

In hindsight, it was a little funny that the one truly unattended thing you were allowed to do here was what unraveled the entire facade.

The back bedroom seemed to have been Sabo’s youngest brother’s bedroom from when he was a child. The bed was covered over with protective covering still—as presumably Luffy had chosen a different room in the oddly cavernous cabin when he’d gotten older—the walls adorned with posters about different insects, the jungle-themed wallpaper adding a little extra fun and whimsy to what appeared to be a large collection of toys, action figures, and little pirate ships along the dressers.

You smiled fondly, but mostly left those things alone, determined instead to make the closet accessible, and to see if there was anything they might find useful inside.

It had occurred to you to ask, early on in your time here, whether Sabo’s brothers might try to find the cabin themselves. Sabo had looked hopeful for a moment, though his expression had quickly turned thoughtful.

“Lu’s off working on that nature preserve, and Ace is out there working with some of his buddies with the firewatch again,” he had said, smiling, if perhaps a little sadly. “They’re way out west...and while Ace has his Jeep, I don’t know that they’d risk such a long ride back. At least not until...or if...this craziness starts to die down.”

And that had made sense. It saddened you that Sabo might be out of range of his brothers for quite a long time, but neither of you had a solution for it, and so, like so many other things, you had simply learned to let it go.

You’d mostly been going through the boxes on autopilot, letting your tired mind drift while you went through what looked like children’s toys, books about beetles, old boxes with parts of expired experiments, a very dead chia pet...but you stopped when, at the bottom of the third box, a hand-crank radio slid into view.

It was pristine, despite how long it had likely sat buried underneath other toys and the remnants of childhood adventures past. You pulled it out of the bottom of the box, and for a long time you just...stared at it.

You glanced up at the ceiling, up towards the vague direction of the radio room that you’d never entered, towards the radio that was your only link to the outside world, the one thing in the house you’d effectively been forbidden to tamper with.

“It’s just a toy...it probably doesn’t have enough range to pick anything but the emergency broadcast system up,” you muttered to yourself, turning it over in your hand. Nothing on the back listed a distance, only a range of frequencies the little radio could pick up.

“Nothing but AM out this far probably, anyway. Maybe some automated church broadcast…”

you swallowed hard, suddenly stifled, like the walls of the cabin were pressing in on you, frozen, waiting.

What could it hurt? With slightly shaking fingers, you pulled the crank out of its cradle, and turned it. The first few times, nothing seemed to happen. Maybe it was broken, maybe it was so old it couldn’t be charged.

You turned it for 30 seconds, nothing. You turned it for another 30 seconds, nothing. You turned the crank for a full additional minute to no immediate response, and just as you were about to give up, to call it dead or broken and put it back in the box marked as unusable...the little front display lit up, and a voice blared out, lively and jarring in the solitude you’d come to accept.

“Annnnd folks we’re at the top of the hour, you’re listening to 43.3 AM, The Buzz. This is Buzz McCallan, comin to you with News on the 8s!”

You sat there for nearly 40 minutes, unmoving and sick. Through News on the 8s, through the update on sports, through a call-in section that seemed to be comprised of mostly disgruntled truckers...and through the Daily Update. A section on the reconstruction efforts, after the world’s brush with death.

After. The end of the world, as it turned out, had lasted for perhaps 3 weeks of sustained bloodshed and chaos, before the world had figured out how to fight back. It had taken another month after that to take stock of what had been lost, and to begin airdropping packets of a compound that seemed to reverse the damage to the parts of the brain that governed behavior and pain tolerance that the infection had damaged.

Now, nearly 6 months after the initial outbreak, the world, while still recovering...had mostly put itself back together again.

The little radio had finally run out of the charge you’d given it just as Buzz McCallan had finished his rant about gas prices, and when it shut off you simply sat there in the tinny, ringing silence.

Your mind was blank, perhaps mercifully so, as you rose on shaking, numb legs, and let your internal autopilot carry you up the stairs to the bedroom you’d been sharing.

By this point, you knew what you’d find as you fished out the crumpled receipt, and let it fall open in your hands.

Every item, listed and accounted for, dated and timestamped ‘Your cashier today was Marta!’ He’d paid in cash. He’d received $5.29 in change.

You wondered, somewhat perversely, if the people in the parking lot had thought he looked strange, dumping all of his neatly bagged groceries out, bag by bag, into the back of his car. You wondered if they thought it was one of those doomsday preppers, still too affected by the near-miss with apocalypse to think clearly.

You wondered if they thought he was nuts.

The whole world was still out there. Your job, your friends. Chinese takeout and movie trailers and neighbors you had always greeted politely but had no desire to meet.

“He’s keeping you prisoner,” a voice in your mind whispered. You frowned, brows furrowed, and shook your head.

“He’s never tried to stop me from leaving the cabin,” you whispered into the stagnant air.

The voice in your mind, which remembered horror movies and true crime podcasts, tutted. “Not the cabin. But have you so much as touched that car, unless he was there with you unloading groceries?”

You knew you were having a breakdown. You knew it was too much to take in, to understand.

“Something really did happen to us...to everyone, though. Maybe he’s just scared. He’s trying to keep us safe…” you whispered, your throat tightening around panic and tears and anger and grief.

“Sure. And that holds up for the first supply run...but you know he knew by the second. He’s paying in cash. He kidnapped you.”

Kidnapped. The word rocketed around your mind like a meteor, crashing through your rational thoughts, your excuses, battering your wounded and confused heart as it made its way down to lay like lead in your stomach.

Your internal voice didn’t have anything else to add, it seemed; the damage had been done, the illusion shattered. You had no idea what to think, what to do—your phone had been misplaced at some point early on, although now you wondered whether he hadn’t just chucked it into the lake, your purse was where you’d left it ages ago: in the car.

Still...you had to get out. Didn’t you? You couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t know what happened. You couldn’t trust the love of your life.

Hot, stinging tears welled up and began to fall at that. Did you even know him? What was he capable of? Would he hurt you, if you tried to get away?

You shook your head so roughly your neck cracked, leaping up off the bed as you tried to stave off what you were sure was a panic attack.

You changed your clothes into something warmer, changed into a pair of the hiking boots you wore when the two of you went out fishing. The road was out there, you could follow it to the highway. Find someone. As long as you made it off the forest drive before he came back, you could make it. You tore through the kitchen, gathering food, filling your water bottle, getting a backpack you’d taken from one of the closets ready to depart.

You’d leave him a note. With the receipt and the radio. You could at least do that. Despite all, the idea of leaving him with nothing, with no way of knowing what had happened to you, hurt too much to consider.

After a moments thought, you grabbed the rifle from where it sat, primed, leaning against the doorway, and slung it over your shoulder. You didn’t know how far you’d have to go to find help, but walking alone in a world you hadn’t been part of in six months without any sort of protection seemed unwise, somehow.

The adrenaline in your system wasn’t helping the way you thought it should. Your body felt sluggish and unwieldy, like it might give out and drop you to the floor at any moment. Writing out the note felt like moving your hand through cement, comprehending the words to explain felt like sand against your brain. Everything hurt. The lights were too bright, your ears were ringing.

It was hard to hear anything over the sound of your body’s resistance to its new conditions. Which was probably why you hadn’t heard it when the car had come trundling to a stop. Hadn’t heard the sound of Sabo’s footsteps as he’d bounded up the stairs.

You almost screamed when the front door popped open, but when you whirled around with the rifle, at first, your lover had laughed—instinctively, nervously.

“Hey love, wh...what’s going on? You weren’t answering on the walkie,” he asked, raising his hands slowly, head cocked to the side in confusion, as he looked from the muzzle of the rifle to you.

The words seemed locked in your throat, and when you just stared at him, the look on his face changed from confusion to alarm. To fear. You grit your teeth, hating it, hating him, hating yourself.

“What’s going on, sweetheart...what happened here…?” Sabo took a tentative, slow step towards you. Your body, frozen to the spot, only managed to stare back at him, the muzzle trained on his chest still.

Those cornflower blue eyes you loved so dearly flickered between you and the gun again before looking back towards the entry hall table...only to fall upon the offerings you’d left there. The radio. The receipt. The rudiments of a note.

For the briefest flickering of a moment, Sabo’s expression went entirely blank, eyes darkening down to blackened slits of panic and pain that seemed to flash through your own chest sympathetically.

“Luffy’s room, probably, huh,” he whispered thickly.

You nodded, your own voice still trapped in your chest. You wondered idly whether you had truly lost your voice, or whether your body knew that if it let you speak you might never never never stop screaming.

You took a deep, unsteady breath. Sabo took another step towards you, pain and sorrow etched across his face once more.

“Let me have the gun, sweetheart. I swear I’ll explain, I’ll tell you everything. No more secrets. Just...let me have this,” He said softly, earnestly, lowering one hand slightly towards the rifle.

You took a jerky step back and he stopped, raising his hands again.

With a voice that was more breath and pain than sound, you whispered “I’ll shoot you.”

Tears welled delicately in Sabo’s eyes, but he shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

Your hands started to shake. Of course you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. The image of him, bloodied and cooling in the entryway, carved its way out of you like a knife and you whimpered...but held on.

“Why not,” you whispered again. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Sabo smiled gently, sadly, the tears slipping down his beautiful cheeks. “Because you love me...and the only ammunition I brought for the rifle are blanks.”

Dark spots began to swim in your vision then, the panic of the moment, the heat of the cabin, the agony of betrayal and confusion all beginning to wear through your senses. You had no plan for this, no experience to fall back on, the only comfort and safety you’d known in your adult life was standing opposite you, perched atop a castle of lies and coercion that you simply could not understand.

On instinct, you flung the rifle at him, winging it with all your waning strength as you lunged past him for the door.

He caught it with one hand, tossing it to the side as he spun to give chase, pressing something on the key ring as he did so.

Ahead of you, just barely out of reach, the front door swung closed ahead of you, and the odd trick mechanism clicked heavily into place. You ran into it, clumsy and sick with sadness and fear, just as Sabo caught up with you, colliding with your body and trapping you against the front door as the rest of the cabin responded to the panic button he had pressed.

His voice at your ear was so warm, so comforting, so unbelievably sad as he explained to you what was happening.

“Luffy’s grandfather really did lose it in his later years, the radio room actually is dangerous,” he whispered, running his palms soothingly up and down your arms despite the weight he was using to keep you pressed to the door. Just the way he had done a hundred thousand times before, conditioning you with his touch to be calm, to be pliant. Your mind felt like it was fracturing, leaning into the comfort of his touch just as it tried to wrestle your muscle control away from him.

Sabo shifted to make sure you could breathe and then continued. “He didn’t stop at the radio room, though. The doors and windows are all reinforced with steel, the doorframes are rooted into the foundation with concrete and rebar. I don’t know what he thought Ace’s biological father might be coming to do, but he prepped this place for war.”

Tears streamed down your face, frustrated, scared; part of you wished you’d just left well enough alone. That things could just go back to the way they were. Part of you didn’t understand how someone who loved you as thoroughly, as honestly as Sabo did, could do this to you. How anyone could ever do this.

“Why is this happening,” you whispered, partially muffled by the door.

Sabo sighed, sounding more weary than you’d ever heard him. “It was real, at first, whatever happened at the apartment. In the beginning all I could think about was making sure we got out here before it got worse, before people started to panic and the roads closed up. The storm really did interfere with the radio reception, and that little town really did look guttered out when I first made a run for supplies,” he said softly, fingertips lulling your unwilling body, coaxing you to relax. He kissed the back of your head, and it took all your control not to lean back into it.

“And it worked, you know, didn’t it? We got set up out here so fast, and since it’s private property and set so far back in the forest, nobody was able to follow us. Nothing sick made it out this far. You were safe, we were together, and…” he trailed off for a moment, forehead leaning against the back of your head, still trying to soothe you as the tears fell harder.

“...and we were happy. So happy. Happy as we’ve always been...and without any of the drudgery or people or circumstances that ever caused us stress. Remember, you said no student loans? No bills at all. No politics. None of your mean, ugly distant relatives, no more morning commute to work, no more mocking up powerpoints for rich assholes that never even commend you for your work.”

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, but he continued, his voice steadying into something righteous, something indignant, although it was clear that furor wasn’t directed at you.

“Every day some nonsense or another kept us apart, wore you down, caused us trouble...there was plenty enough in the inheritance to keep us comfortable, if the cost of living hadn’t just kept climbing and climbing and climbing...but then the infection started. Then we came out here, we got away...and I know it’s awful, but part of me was desperate for it to be the end. To be a REAL reset. The whole system is rotten…” One of Sabo’s hands slid down until he could wrap it around your waist, pulling you to him, rocking you carefully back and forth against the door.

It frightened you that he was still trying to comfort you, it frightened you more how badly you wanted him to, how badly you wanted all of this to go away.

Maybe he was right...it wasn’t like rent was getting any lower.

“Stop, please...Sabo, please,” your voice sounded reedy thin in your ears. Sabo splayed his palm out against your belly, kissed the back of your neck softly.

You sighed against the door, warmth blossoming through you. You couldn’t think. This wasn’t right.

When he spoke again, his lips still brushing the back of your neck, it was with a voice so wounded, so desperate, that you almost didn’t recognize it.

“Has this really been so bad?” he asked softly, rocking with you again, fingertips stroking the slight line of skin where your shirt had ridden up. You shivered, and he sighed with you, sympathetic, in sync.

“Is being here...being together...being beyond everything that hurt us before...safe and comfortable...is it really such a bad thing to want?”

Your eyes slip closed as his fingers, blunt and warm, dip beneath the waistband of your pants. Your brows furrow, but the fight’s gone out of you now. Whatever moment there might have been to escape this, to escape back into your body and yourself and the world...had passed you, at some point.

“We’re safe here...we’re taken care of here...we can live for each other and no one else...not many people get to boast a life like that,” this time when he kissed the back of your neck, lips trailing down towards your ear, you leaned back into him, into his touch.

The world stopped, the cabin walls pressed in, anxious, greedy. Waiting.

“No,” you whispered, and this time when you shifted, Sabo leaned off just enough to let you turn in his arms.

When he kissed you, long and deep, you sank into it. Back into the comfort, back into the stability of a world—of a life—that your lover had made so, so simple for you.

Sabo’s body shook against you, in longing, in relief, even as his fingertips slid lower to find you wanting. Needing.

He’d hated lying to you. Hated every moment of it. He’d tell you, he’d spend the rest of his life on his knees for you if you needed it. Anything for you to feel safe.

“You’re perfect,” he mouthed against your lips, your throat, between the valley of your breasts once he’d removed the stupid sweater that had kept you hidden from him.

“I love you,” he vowed as he sank to his knees before you, taking away the winter pants you would no longer need, tossing your hiking boots with them over his shoulder and away.

“I’m sorry,” he intoned, as he slid his tongue between your lips, laved worship and remorse against you, filled your exhausted body and broken mind with pleasure.

“Not like you,” you’d whispered back, to this, and to all, as you let him take the pain away.

He offered you an out, as he slicked his fingers into you, curling forward, giving you everything just like he’d always promised.

He offered you an out, as the pleasure peaked, wracking you with relief far beyond the moment at hand…

...and you took it.

[erissheiress]

Eris + birthdays prompt from @skyesayshi <33

I've mentioned before how Eris treats you on your birthday, but how about on his?

Eris who barely gives his birthday a second thought because he never really celebrated it as a child 🥺 Eris who is genuinely surprised when you get him a thoughtful, sentimental gift that he loves, or when you ensure his favourite foods and desserts are there for him! if you have children they're there with handmade birthday cards, beaming up at their teary-eyed father. your heart breaks a little at his confusion at being celebrated, especially after all he does for your birthday, but you're determined to make him feel as loved as possible <3 he isn't left alone once for the whole day, a day full of kisses and cuddles and affection, for the love of your life <3 just Eris on his birthday 🥺

[sulliedsorrow]

chuuya who drags dazai to every 24-hour store he can find to keep him company at night because dazai gets lonely with no one else awake but never says anything. chuuya figured it out after waking up three days in a row with 200+ messages from dazai ranging from midnight til 6am.

sometimes they don’t find a place and instead just sit on a bench, dazai playing games on his phone with chuuya watching from over his shoulder. dazai would never admit how grateful he is for these moments

[tartagliove]

little update!

hello!! I hope everyone has been well c: in my time away from this tumblr account, I've graduated from college, gone on vacation, and found a job! but I've also gotten back into writing a bit, and I've really missed interacting with my friends' fics and creations on here.

sooooo... I'll be coming back to tumblr! I'm taking some time to rebrand and set up a little return/birthday event, but if everything goes according to plan, I'll be back officially on the 17th of August!

I hope to see you then! ^u^

[metalbvcky]

A Daddy's Himbo

It has been way too long since I last posted a oneshot, but thanks to Bucky's birthday and all the events at @buckybarnesevents, the muse decided to switch gears for a change. Literally, I haven't written dom Bucky until now (nothing solid at least) but look where time finally got me 😏 It was also a good break from finishing up my series!

Stucky Bingo Round 5 — I5 - AU: No Powers @stuckybingo Bucky Barnes Events, Bucky's Birthday Bash Bucky Barnes Events, Juneiverse Round 2 — Shop

Pairing: Steve/Bucky Rating: Explicit Word/Chapter Count: 5,129 (1/1) Tags: Modern AU, Exes to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Dom Bucky, Sub Steve, Kink Convention, Queer Themes (more tags on AO3)

💔 Summary 💔

It’s been well over a decade since Bucky moved to the west coast in search of different opportunities. He left his old life in New York behind, and even though staring from scratch sucks balls, he made it work. The leather and kink community opened their arms to him and he was reborn.

Then years later, he's offered to help out an established kink festival. The problem? It's on the other coast. But he's a professional dom, and he's not one to betray the community that got him here today.

What he hadn't expected, however, was running into an ex on the day of preparations.

His old sub.

Read on AO3

[multifandomsimagine]

Imagine Hiro teasing Tadashi about his crush on you, a frequent customer of the Lucky Cat Cafe

Everything is going as it should, Tadashi thinks as he finishes pouring your drink from the pitcher and into a to-go cup. You came into the Lucky Cat Cafe for a quick breakfast before you had to head to SFIT for your morning lecture. You greeted him warmly - "Morning, Tadashi! Another foggy morning, huh." with a smile on your face to which he happily returned with one of his own - "Morning, [Name]. It wouldn't be San Fransokyo if there was no fog." To which you agreed with a giggle before he had to start making your drink.

He was thankful his back was turned to you as it made it easy to hide his reddening face as he processed your interaction. He took your order without stuttering or getting flustered and even had the delight of making you laugh. Finishing up your drink and pouring it into a to-go cup, Tadashi took a deep breath to compose himself before turning around to make his way to the pastry display to grab your order. Placing the pastry in a bag, he grabbed your drink and placed both on the counter. "Here's your order, [Name]."

Another smile graced your face as you took the order from him. Taking a sip from your drink, you let out a pleased hum. "Thanks! See you on campus?"

He nods. "Yea, for Professor Granville's lab."

You wave goodbye and make your way to the door, the bell announces your departure with a loud chime as you walk out of the cafe.

Tadashi's gaze follows you, watching as your figure becomes smaller and smaller until you're out of sight.

"Sad to see your girlfriend leave?"

"Hiro!" Tadashi's eyes dart to the stairs where his younger brother is making his way down the first floor. His eyes narrow when he notices the teasing smirk the fourteen-year-old is sporting.

Hiro ignores him, walking behind the counter to grab a donut from the display. "It's okay. You'll see her at your nerd school and you can continue drooling over her— Hey!" Hiro shouts out when a dishrag hits him on his face. He sputters as he pulls it off, glaring at Tadashi while he tosses the rag onto the counter.

[sixlane]

tricks up sleeves and all that

rosekiller microfic | 1,180 words | magician Barty, single dad Evan

The first thing Evan thought when his daughter told him she wanted a magician at her birthday party was how did I raise a child who enjoys close-up magic? It wouldn’t have been his first choice, probably wouldn’t have even been his last. He would’ve gone with something classier, more elegant, like a tea party or a day at the museum. Something to live up to the extravagance of previous years. Sure, Eleanor is only seven but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the finer things. 

So, in between meetings and phone calls, Evan researched children’s birthday party magicians, and as you’d expect, not much was living up to his standards. After days of sifting through resumes and background checks, he was eventually able to find a well-designed website with good reviews and speak to a representative who promised to send their best.

This is why Evan is so confused when he opens his front door to find a tall, lanky man in ripped jeans and a worn out t-shirt, his look complete with ruffled hair, an eyebrow piercing, and excessive amounts of tattoos. 

“You must have the wrong house,” Evan says. He thinks he should probably close the door but something about this man is intriguing. He wants to look for just a second longer.

The man leans back to check the address beside the door. “You’re Mr. Rosier, right? I’m here for the birthday party. I’m Barty, the magician.” 

Evan raises a brow. “You don’t look like a magician.”

“Were you expecting a full tuxedo? It’s like 95 degrees out.” A tilted grin spreads over his face, showing off a pointy canine. “Here let me show you.” Before Evan can back away, Barty is reaching behind his ear and producing a shiny quarter, flipping it between his fingers confidently. “Ta da.”

“That’s hardly magic,” Evan says, crossing his arms. He better get a full refund if this is the best they had.

“No, you’re right. That’s just the decoy.” He raises his left hand, and between his thumb and pointer finger he holds Evan’s watch, which had previously been secured to his wrist.

Evan’s mouth drops open slightly. He hadn’t even felt it. “That’s not magic either, that is literally stealing.” He snatches the watch back, putting it on.

“It’s the art of misdirection,” Barty explains. “I do a dumb coin trick, and while you’re paying attention to that, I do something more impressive. It’s like, the basis of all magic.”

Evan doesn’t even know what to say. This man has just pickpocketed him on his own front porch and now he wants Evan to let him into his house? 

At the same time Evan is getting ready to slam the door in Barty’s face, Eleanor appears at his hip, smile wider than a mile across her face.

“Is this the magician, Dad?” she asks, tugging at his shirt while she bounces up and down.

“You must be Eleanor,” Barty says, squatting down so they’re at eye level. He’s performing now, Evan can tell. He lights up and his smugness from before is washed away. “Would you like to pick a card?” 

Eleanor nods enthusiastically.

Barty pulls a deck out of his back pocket and starts shuffling. Evan watches the way his fingers move deftly around the cards. Bending and flipping them expertly before fanning them out in front of her.

“Okay, go ahead. But don’t tell me what your card is, just show it to your dad and put it back anywhere in the deck.”

Eleanor does as instructed and shows Evan the card, ace of hearts, before sliding it back in.

“Thanks Eleanor, that’s great.” He starts shuffling the cards again, adding in flourishes here and there. Evan watches intently, trying to track his every move, see where he might be switching cards out or taking a peek, but he moves too quickly for Evan to stay on top of everything. “Now Ellie, can I call you Ellie?” Eleanor giggles and nods her head. “Your dad here,” he tilts his head up at Evan, “has already seen me do a trick similar to this, but I think I can put a new spin on it, what do you say?” 

Eleanor looks up at Evan, affronted. “Dad! You’ve been playing with the magician without me?”

Evan hears Barty try to stifle a laugh and feels the beginning of a tension headache spreading behind his eyes. “I was just making sure he was up to our standards,” he grits out.

“Don’t worry Ellie, your dad was just doing his due diligence.” Eleanor looks appeased and waves her hand in a motion that tells Barty to continue. He does one last shuffle and then reaches behind Eleanor’s ear. When he pulls back, he has the ace of spades in between his pointer and middle fingers. “So Ellie, was this your card?” 

She looks confused and a little disappointed. Evan holds himself back from kicking Barty directly in the face. “Um… close,” she says. “Mine had hearts on it.”

Barty looks at the card. “Huh. You know, sometimes the cards don’t always do what we want them to so we have to shake some sense into them. He starts waving the card quickly back and forth. When it comes to a stop, Barty holds the ace of hearts where the ace of spades had previously been. He smiles in triumph. Evan still kind of wants to kick him in the face.

Eleanor lets out an excited squeal and rushes forward to tackle Barty into a hug. “Can we keep him, Dad?” she screams directly in Barty’s ear. He doesn’t even flinch.

Evan lets out a resigned sigh. He’s really never been able to deny Eleanor anything, so he steps to the side, opening the door wider, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Of course Eleanor. Go gather your friends in the living room. Barty will be right in.” He places a hand on her head as she runs by.

Barty stands up and straightens his pants out, sliding the deck back into his pocket. “Good enough?” he asks, shrugging a shoulder.

Evan scrutinizes him for a second, running his eyes over every inch of the man. The line of his cheekbone, the curve of his neck, the way his thumb rubs a circle into the side of his pointer finger. There’s something about him. Evan hasn’t heard Eleanor scream that loud since Pandora got her a bug collection kit for Christmas last year. 

“I want you to know that I keep a detailed inventory of everything in my home, so if you steal something I will find out, and you won't be happy about the consequences.”

Barty smiles, something mischievous glinting in his eye. “We’ll see about that,” he says brushing past Evan to make his way into the living room. Evan closes the door behind him. Right before Barty turns the corner, he throws something over his shoulder. Without thinking, Evan catches it. His wallet. With the ace of hearts sticking mockingly out of the top.

[8myass]

.. sunshine .. pairing. jeong yoonoh/jaehyun x female reader genre. slight angst, fluff pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) synopsis. your ex-boyfriend still wanted to spend his birthday, and Valentine’s Day, with you. wc. 0.4k cw. slight stalker!jaehyun, ex-boyfriend!jaehyun tw. pet names (excessive ‘jae’ usage), second chance a/n. birthday boyyy. this is the first work in a series of works i’m completing and posting for jae’s birthday! it’s a week-long birthday writing event! i will post a finished piece for him every day between now (14) and the following wednesday (21). i just wanna say thank you to everyone who is supporting me and my works, i’m super excited to write these for y’all!!

Sitting in your bed, it was unexpected when your ex-boyfriend showed up at your door the previous morning. You were shocked, to say the least. You had every reason to kick him out, to yell in his face to leave you alone, just as you’ve done in the past, but for some odd reason, whatever that might be, you didn’t. 

He was now preparing food for you in your kitchen, knowing his way around the place like he’d been here hundreds of times before when you’d only just moved in a few months after the two of you broke up. You watched him for a good amount of time earlier, pretending like you were just curious about what he was making, but that wasn’t it at all. He knew where everything in your house was. He needed salt? Top shelf in the rack next to the fridge. Mixing bowl? In the cabinet under the sink, thrown in with all the rest of the pots and pans. 

You weren’t an organized person, but your kitchen was the place you stayed in a lot after you and Jaehyun had broken up. It was your safe haven, more or less. So when you realized he knew his way around your house, especially your kitchen, it made you genuinely curious about how he had gotten so used to navigating his way around your place like that. 

When he walked into your bedroom, taking his time and being extra careful not to spill the orange juice on the floor or let the plate slide off the tray before he could get it to you, you were grateful to have him around again after so long, always loving taking a break from cooking every now and again.

You sat up in your bed, letting him place your food on your lap as he sat down on the bed next to you, his own plate on his lap. You were shoving food down so quickly you nearly choked, giggling as you looked over at him with that smile spread across your face that he always adored, “It’s so good, thanks so much, Jae!”

You two talked and talked and talked, you had so much to discuss. You haven’t spoken since the damaging day you broke up, so it was odd having a full-blown conversation with him that didn’t involve screaming or cursing each other out or things being thrown all over the room in a fit of rage. It was calming, and actually very soothing. 

“I wanna be with you again,” he finally broke through the awkward silence the room was sitting in for a good minute, only making the awkwardness stronger and more present.

“Huh? Jae, we weren’t good for each other, you know that,” you sighed, locking tired eyes with his gleaming ones. 

“Nonsense. We can make it work, I promise you. I know how to treat you now, I know what I’ve done wrong in the past and I won’t repeat those mistakes. Please, just give me a second chance. I will make it up to you this time, I will be your perfect man,” he pleaded, all but dropping onto his knees with his hands thrown together in prayer.

“I… I’m not so sure, Jae. It’s a big decision, a big step,” you rubbed the back of your neck uncomfortably, taking a deep breath to calm your growing nerves. You did want him back, you still loved him. And today only made you all the more aware that you were still in love with the man that he was and always will be. 

“It’s okay to love me. Please, love me,” he frowned, genuine sadness filling his expression at the thought of you rejecting this proposal. You were so on the fence with this whole scene. On one hand, you didn’t want to take on the responsibility of working on the relationship and possibly taking all the blame when it doesn’t work out again. On the other hand, you do love him and you do want to work things out with him, or, at least, try to. “Consider it a birthday gift for your valentine boy.”

His smile was genuine and it sent butterflies all throughout your stomach. You couldn’t help but cave, pulling him into a hug, arms wrapped around his neck as your face buried into his hard chest, his own arms finding residence on your waist, “Fine, Jae, let’s make us work again.”

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: afab Character: Sabo Vibe: NSFW Consensual AU: Vampire AU Prompt: Bath/Shower/Hot spring (Writer's Choice) Gift Giver: @possiblyelven

Summary: Your lover is a vampire, and the contrary bastard has a mirror-lined shower.

Content Notes: mirror sex, vampire has no reflection, dirty talk from Sabo like he was born to do it, vampire strength, compulsion, mdni

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

You stood in the shower, unsure of where to look. The walls were mirrored, of all the terrible things, and even the stone work at your feet seemed to give you away. Even with water cascading over you, warm enough to be comfortable, cool enough not to steam the reflective mirrors, you could see entirely too well.

You felt him step up behind you before his hands were against your skin, lips pressing quavering and barely restrained kisses into the back of your neck and along your shoulders. The mirrors didn’t give him away like they did you, but the water made his golden curls cling to his face and neck.

“I… don’t know where to look.” You sigh as his hands move along your hips.

“Close your eyes, then.” He offers, before turning you to face him. His smile is devious and kind at the same time, clear blue eyes putting you at ease. “Or keep them on me. I will behold your beauty in mirrors wise enough to reflect only the most deserving, and you can honor me by keeping your eyes on me.”

He leans in, kissing you sweetly as the water flowed over you both. “Only me.”

“Only you.” You promise, eyes moving from his to his lips. “Sabo, please.”

Hands that are hot against the small of your back twitch, moving down to the curve of your ass and squeezing, eliciting a moan from you before he leans in and steals another kiss. His tongue was between your lips, hungry and thirsty, the harried space between you ensorcelled in water, making the entire affair messier than usual.

Sabo lifts you easily, the unnatural strength of his perfect for moments even as gentle as these. You seemed to float in the reflection of the mirrors, your breasts pressed against Sabo’s unseen chest. The grip of his hands in the meat of your thighs was the only indication you weren’t floating under your own power.

“Another time,” he grins, stiff cock already teasing your entrance, “and I want to put the mirror right between our legs.” He lets you sink down a little, teasing just the tip of his cock into you. “I want to watch your pussy, flushed and dripping, spread open around me.”

“Haaaa, fuh-fuck. Don’t say it like that,” you whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Held like this there weren’t many places to look. Nuzzled into him gave him access to your neck, and he didn’t leave the opportunity to pass him by.

Sharp fangs, and the euphoria that always followed the sting, sink into you as he pushes deep into your pussy. Your gasp of surprise is a bright cry of pleasure at the stimulation and it’s all you have in you to hold onto him. The bite is brief, a loving lick over the small wounds as he makes you ride him easily.

The slap of skin is wet from the shower and the frantic start has you panting into his shoulder.

“So noisy already?” He coos knowingly, licking against your neck again as he thrusts up into you. “Seeing the water mingle with your pleasure and drip onto the tiles is quite the treat.”

“I’m not dripping!” You cry. He was going to kill you with embarrassment one day.

“Oh?” Sabo pulls out of you, turning you around with such ease it almost makes your head spin. Your back is against his chest, and he’s holding your thighs, keeping you spread and purposefully on display for the mirrors. “Watch, sweet flower.” He says the words in a way that brokers no descent and you watch as he pushes his twitching cock back inside you.

“Sabo, please!” You cry, heart pounding in your head as he fills you back up.

“It’s not the best angle, but you do take me so well, don’t you.” He holds you steady, pushing up into as water cascades down his back and leaves your view of yourself unobstructed. His eyes flash, and the light is the only thing that reflects off the mirrors.

“Touch yourself,” he commands and your hand is moving toward your clit before you’ve fully registered it.

“Cheater,” you gasp. Your fingers feel almost foreign against the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending thrills through you. “Stop - Ahhh-fuck - commanding me like that!”

“Ah, but you love it.” He purrs in your ear, tongue teasing the curve of it. “Look, there’s no water, and yet-.”

“Don’t say it!” You cry. Your legs are shivering and you can feel pleasure rising inside you. With the clear view from the mirrors you swear the only thing you can hear dripping on the stone tiles is your own pleasure, despite the shower running behind you.

“Please, please, I’m going to cum, Sabo, please!”

“Look at me.” The edges of a command help you look up at him, and his eyes drink in your expression. Desperate and needy, and so close. “By the stars. I just want to press you against the mirror and fuck you until you drool down the glass, too blissed out of your sweet little mind to care.”

You try to protest, but nothing except a desperate keening cry escapes your lips. Sabo picks up the pace.

“Cum.” He commands, but there’s no magic to it. There was none stopping you from it either, but the way you waited, relentlessly begging for his permission in all the ways you could think of.

Pleasure shatters your face, still tilted back so he can watch you fall apart. He could enjoy the reflection, but there was something far more decadent about seeing it so up close. Especially as your body was compelled to continue teasing your clit even as your conscious thoughts were getting lost to pleasure.

A devious grin splits Sabo’s face as he steps toward the mirrored wall, pressing your fevered skin against the cold glass. You barely gasp from the temperature difference as Sabo continues thrusting into your dripping and trembling pussy.

“Since we’re here, my sweetest flower, let's see if I can’t make my earlier idea a reality.”

[zylophie]

🍙﹒星 — day 5 featuring asahina mafuyu

knock knock!

heres some mail!

ଘ(੭´꒳`)°* ੈ‧₊ 💌

⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ...anon is typing... ♡

↻ᴹᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ !

❝ hihi! for mango's bday event, can i have 5 with mafuyu? ❞

━━❝ Before you go... Can I kiss you ?❞

"Look fuyu~! Aren't these plushies so cute?!"

A girl with tied up purple hair halted her tracks to see the direction you were pointing at.

What you were standing in front of was a claw machine filled with various plush animals who were too cute for your eyes!

Each animal in the claw machine reminded you of some of your friends. Like how this pink cat reminded you of Mizuki, as it is as adorable as Mizuki is! Or how a smaller orange sparrow next to it reminds you of Ena. Since a sparrow may be small but it is loud

"..."

As Mafuyu was standing right beside you looking at the plushies you were telling her about.

"They're just normal plushies.. I don't see anything special about them."

"Fuyu~!!! Don't be like tha-"

"Besides, I still think you're way more cute than the soft toys."

Mafuyu stated bluntly as she continued staring at the plushies to see how they are specially cute. You were lucky she didn't glance at you with how pink your face was.

You knew Mafuyu was blunt but you didn't expect her to outright flirt with you just like that! Although you did enjoy the compliment since it was rare to see Mafuyu compliment you without doing anything.

"W-well.. Those plushies reminds me about some friends of ours.. Like how that blue puppy in the corner reminds me of Kanade.. and some others.."

"Well now that you pointed it out.. Those plushies do resemble some of our friends.."

"..."

"..."

"Ah! Wait here Fuyu!! I want to go and get something!"

»»-----► After a few minutes flew by... ❍✧

"I-I'm back!"

You yelled, as you stopped to catch your breath for a bit. Since you ran back to prevent making Mafuyu wait too long.

"..What did you get?"

You slowly walked your way over to Mafuyu to show her what you got. Inside your purse was filled of coupons for the claw machine.

"Now we can both try to get the plushies! After all, we came out to have fun anyways right?"

You smiled as you input the coins into the machine to start it.

"Here! You can start first fuyu!"

You told her, only to not get a response of Mafuyu getting close to the machine.

"..? Fuyu, what's wrong?"

"..I've never played claw machines before.."

"..Oh- It's okayyy! I can teach you!"

As you walk in front of the machine. Prepared to teach Mafuyu how to use it.

"First you use this controller to move.."

As you glance at Mafuyu for a bit. Only to see her make an expression she has never made before. She looks.. Determined?

"...? Is something the matter [name]?"

"Oh uh! N-nothing. Anyways next click this button and you should pick up the plushy."

-As you said that the plushy dropped from the claw.

"Is that suppose to happen?"

"Ahaha.. Hang on let me try again.."

---- AFTER SEVERAL ATTEMPTS ----

After a few of your tries, you only left less than half of the coupons of what you've started with.

"..I think I got the hang of it now, here [name] let me try."

As you gave the purse to Mafuyu to let her try out the claw machine after your failed attempts.

"Good luck Fuyu~ it's really ha-"

Thud

Mafuyu reached down to open the small door and took out the first plushy before dropping another 3 more down from all the coupons that were left.

"Here [name], sorry I failed some tries and couldn't get you every single different on-"

"Are you kidding Fuyu?! You got so many for me already! And it's the ones I wanted too~"

As you quickly jumped on Mafuyu giving her a hug. Although it was a bit awkward since Mafuyu didn't return the hug back. You could feel her heart beating a little faster.

You let go of the hug and picked up the rest of the plushies that were still inside the door. You examined each of them, looking at their cute faces before putting them inside your bag except for one.

"Why didn't you put that inside the bag too..?"

"Oh this one? It's because it's my favourite one you got me out of the 4!"

"Is it because it's the first one I got?"

"Oh, of course not! It's because it reminds me of you."

You replied, staring at a purple bunny. It was pretty fluffy too!

You and Mafuyu enjoyed the moment of silence together, until your phone decided to disrupt it.

Ding!

You took out your phone to see it was your father telling you to come home since it's already quite late.

"Ah, sorry Fuyu~! I got to go home now. Thanks for hanging out and getting me the plushies today!"

"..No problem, thanks for inviting me"

Just as you were about to walk off, Mafuyu grabbed your hand.

"Hm? What is it Fuyu?"

You turned your head to look at her, wondering why you got stopped.

"...Before you go.. Can I kiss you?"

"..."

"EHH?!"

(っ'-')╮=͟͟͞͞💌 You receive a letter from X!

↻ᴹᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ !

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

Not me bullying Ena a bit in this fic during ModEna's birthday xD

Happy birthday Mango/ModEna! Hope you'll have the best time celebrating it! >:3

[gojosvoid]

my brain today: brat tamer zayne 😵‍💫

also my brain today: brat taming rafayel 😵‍💫😵‍💫

also also my brain today: sylus mostly ignoring you when you're being a brat, occasionally just giving you an amused chuckle or even provoking you a little, until you apologize and properly beg for his attention that you've wanted all along 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫