#warm thermal socks

[ssaalexblake]

I got a heated blanket 💕💕 it's a revelation 💕💕

[twinknote]

y’all it is -30 F with windchill in the middle of the day. Where is my big warm space heater of a man to keep me from turning into a gay icicle

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

The Hell I Won't John Wayne Old Country Western Thermal Socks

Shop the Best Thermal Socks for keeping your feet warm all year long, so get ready for the cold weather with our John Wayne The Hell I Won’t Thermal Socks with the designed on the bottom of the sole. Our Thermal Socks are an upgrade from other socks. Socks are also indispensable part of our wardrobes, so it’s important to choose a quality pair, especially a designed pair! Perfect Gift for the old western John Wayne Fans!

These premium heavy weight Thermal Socks are specifically designed to protect your feet during the coldest time of year with none of the sweat. These Thermal socks are comfortable, easy to pull on and off and they will keep your feet cozy and dry all day long. Thermal Socks are designed for ultimate warmth even in the most extreme weather, these Thermal Socks are GREAT for the extreme cold weather! You can also wear these Thermal Socks under your boots or as leg warmers for double protection.

Shoe size 6-12. Material is cotton, polyester, and spandex. The Material breakdown is 60% Cotton, 39% Polyester and 1% Spandex. The width is 4 inches, and the height is 22.125 inches.

Perfect for outdoor sports, going to the office, and curling up on the couch in the winter months.

Machine wash cold with like colors. Use ONLY non-chlorine bleach when needed, tumble dry low, do NOT iron. Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.

Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!

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John Wayne and one of his famous quotes “The Hell I Won’t” Thermal Socks with the designed on the bottom of the sole.

Thermal socks are specifically designed to protect your feet during the coldest time of year.

Men’s size 10-13. Material is cotton, polyester and spandex. The Material breakdown is 50% Cotton, 49% Polyester and 1% Spandex. The width is 4 inches and the height is 22.125 inches.

Perfect for outdoor sports, going to the office, and curling up on the couch in the winter months.

Machine wash cold with like colors. Use ONLY non-chlorine bleach when needed, tumble dry low, do NOT iron.

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - the 141 find a cozy place to stay during an op (that's definitely all that happens). implied fat!reader

(dubcon, poly, gangbang, anal, price is in charge of everyone<3)

So blizzards can happen in the blink of an eye on high, isolated mountains, right?

And the 141 have done missions in rural places, snowy places, mountainous places, right?

And there are tons of tiny little isolated towns, all over the world, built around these mountains for one reason or another - coal mining, logging, etc.

Now imagine the 141 on a mission, somewhere cold, somewhere isolated, a place that feels like the edge of the world. Desolate.

Now imagine the 141 seeing, in the near distance, a winking pale orange light. It's a good enough place as any to approach - it isn't safe to be caught in this blizzard, anyhow. Even with their gear, the safehouse is still an hour away and the snowfall seems historic...

Now imagine you're sitting in your family home, all alone, going a little crazy with cabin fever. Your woodstove is burning hot, but you're still cuddled up in knits and a thermal underneath. You're making stew for dinner with root vegetables from the basement cellar, it's bubbling and softening for you while you crochet, trying to keep your mind off the monumental shoveling task you'll have to deal with tomorrow

Until there's a knock on the door.

"Hello ma'am, I'm just wondering if me and my friends here could rest until it's safe to continue our hike?" (I love the way gaz says ma'am)

Hike? Nobody hikes up here - you've only ever seen a couple tourists in your life, thrill seeking ice climbers who came and went.

And they certainly weren't dressed in snow camo, hiding guns behind their backs.

But you were raised right, and the man at the door has kind eyes - he's handsome, too, but you'd never say it out loud. Gaz pushes the door further in when you tentatively open it, and in comes barreling three more massive men, their boots stomping and leaving a mess.

Soap smells the stew on the stove and beelines for it, lifting his helmet to inhale deeply.

Ghost sweeps the room like it might be hiding an enemy somewhere- even though it's one room total, the stove in the middle, separating the kitchen and your bed.

Price approaches you all apologetic, apologizing for "these ruffians", holding his camo helmet to his gut like it's formalwear. "Apologies, sweetheart, we weren't expecting the weather to turn on us."

You aren't quite sure how you end up sitting on prices lap, naked except for your socks, while he squeezes your stomach and grunts in your ear not to be shy when putting your weight on him. His other hand is cupped over your pussy, murming thank yous for feeding his men.

They're eating your stew, stripped out of gear, cocks tented in their white cargos.

"We're a gaggle of lucky boys, eh?" Soap says. "Nice, cozy, soft girl. Warm cabin. A man could get used to this."

You wind up pressed down on your mattress, hands held behind you by one man while another fucks you hard, spurred on by price behind them. At first, it's johnny, whining high in his throat while price guides his hips and gaz holds your arms by your head. "Need to thank her proper, boy." The obvious authority in prices voice makes your pussy clench around him, and he shakes over you, trying hard not to come too early.

Gaz reaches down from where he's holding your arms, pinching your clit until you buck against Johnny and squirt around him.

Then it's gaz, who lifts your legs and squeezes your big thighs, locking eyes with ghost. He's steady, only breaking composure when Simon praises him. "Thats a lad. Good, just like that, Kyle." He's the first to ever make you come from penetration alone, hips moving in a way that makes your abdomen tighten and tighten and tighten until you reach the longest orgasm of your life, nearly crying with how intense it feels.

Price ends up flipping you over - nudging you up on your hands and knees, the bed creaking with the combined weight of he and his lieutenant taking their places in front and behind you.

Simon slips his cock in your mouth, staring down at you through the balaclava. You can barely make out a thick scar, one that looks like it might go through his whole face. You lose focus when price pushes his fingers in your ass, though, and you squeal.

There's no where to run except further down simons cock, though, where you gag, spit running all down your chest onto the bed.

"Shh, sh," Price rubs your flank like you're a spooked animal. He squeezes the ample flesh of your asscheek appreciatively. "Jus wanna give your poor pussy a break, aye? I reckon she's tired,"

He pushes into you impatiently and it burns a little, but he soothes it with a palm over your soft, sore cunt. Rubs a thumb over your clit slowly, jostling you back and forth over simons cock.

You come once more before the night is over, tears finally running down your cheeks, mixing with your saliva, with simons come. It's a painful orgasm, wrenched from you - but that makes it all the sweeter.

They wipe you down and spoon feed you more stew, after, to recover your energy :') price has the boys tidy their boot tracks and put away leftovers while he and Simon hold you from both sides. They can barely fit with you on your bed, but tucked in like this - on top of your furs, naked as the day you were born, praised for your soft body and "What a good girl you are, babydoll."

Sigh

I'm sure this idea has probably been written but I was listening to this and couldn't stop imagining it lmfao

[crusheswhimsandfancies]

Scandalous! Also the way he’s holding his thigh💀

I feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle…

[totoshappylife]

Heatuff Mens Thick Wool Socks Thermal Warm Winter Crew Socks 5 Pairs Multicolors

Heatuff Mens Thick Wool Socks Thermal Warm Winter Crew Socks 5 Pairs Multicolors

Price: (as of – Details) Product Description Knitting Wool Socks Our Mens Wool Socks are made of high quality material Wool Blended Fabric .These wool socks will keep your feet warm and comfortable all winter long. MENS WARM WOOL SOCKS FOR WINTER The fabric blend is skin-friendly, itch free, breathable, durable, moisture wicking and odor-fighting, keep your feet warm, dry and comfy all day both…

[noxturnals-void]

Slashers with an s/o that’s always cold

Characters include:

Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory

———————————————————————————

✨Chronic cold hands and feet gang unite✨

Tw: suggestions of nsfw (nothing described explicitly), characters being hard on themselves

———————————————————————————

Jason Voorhees:

Pre-zombie

He’s a big, warm guy.

You can cuddle against him and feel like you're hugging a heater.

Will give you bear hugs to heat you up at any time.

It can get pretty cold during the winter, so his lap is where you’ll be. He doesn’t mind.

He will hold your hands in his to warm them up whenever he notices your hands are too cold.

When you are out on walks together in the woods or around the campgrounds, you hold hands in his jacket pocket.

When you cuddle on the couch or in bed, he’ll make sure your hands and feet are always warm.

Post-zombie

Poor guy :(

He can’t comfort you how he used to now that he’s room temperature.

He’ll still try his absolute best to keep you warm with heated blankets and fuzzy socks.

Will give your hands and feet massages to stimulate blood flow.

He feels bad not being able to keep you warm as well during the winter, so he builds extra big fires just for you.

Will still give you bear hugs, even if they don’t warm you up.

Michael Myers:

He never lets you go anywhere alone, but that doesn’t mean he’s all over you.

When the urge for physical touch does happen, it’s rarely PG-13.

Outside of that, it’s uncommon for him to do things such as cuddle or hug.

When he is unusually tame, you will find him holding you.

He wants to be near you. Sometimes that means you are stuck to his chest, wrapped up in his arms, or pinned onto the couch or bed under his weight.

He may or may not let you put your hands under his mask to heat them up against his neck or face.

Fair warning: only try if you’re prepared to lose a hand.

If you don’t lose a hand, something’s wrong. Might be time for his yearly vet appointment.

Thomas Hewitt aka Leatherface:

This guy can’t keep his hands off of you.

He knows your hands and feet are always cold, even during the hot Texas summer.

He’s more than willing to share his body heat.

He will constantly worry about your hands and feet being so cold. Is your heart okay? He’s always going to be worried about your health.

If you want to work outside with him, he’ll let you, but don’t think you’re doing any heavy lifting when you’ve got him around.

He won’t deny that it’s nice to have your hands against the back of his neck, under his hair, or on his forehead, like a personal ice pack.

When you sleep, he will be the big spoon to ensure you are safe and warm the entire night.

Jesse Cromeans aka Chromeskull:

Pre-superest of super glues

Oh, this cocky bastard.

You want him to warm up your hands? Don’t worry, he will put your hands to good use, and they’ll be warm in no time ;)

Relishes in you cuddling up to him for warmth.

The way you shiver, complaining about your feet being cold as you shove them between his legs has him laughing.

Will definitely spoil you rotten with gifts.

You have a collection of luxury-brand thermal socks and expensive heating packs at your disposal for when he’s not around.

He will suggest exercise. Especially at-home yoga. It's good for your circulation. It’s good for his circulation to see you in some of those poses ;)

Post-superest of super glues

He’s less cocky now that he’s lost (what he believes) is one of his best attributes. His face.

He will be distant for a while; resisting giving into your physical affection despite your hands and feet being ice cubes. He can’t be your heater until he comes to terms with his own reality first.

He still buys you gifts, more so now that he’s constantly worried you will leave him if he doesn’t.

Instead of acting all smug and arrogant about you wanting him, he will try to enjoy the fact you still want to be near him.

His affirmations that you still care about him come from you still sticking your ice-cold hands up his sleeves to make him jump, or your frozen feet sliding between his legs seeking warmth when you sleep together at night.

He would never admit it, but your cold hands on his face make him feel normal again.

Asa Emory aka The Collector:

Oh, he’s intrigued.

You have chronically cold hands and feet?

Do you have anemia? Poor circulation? Thyroid issues? Autoimmune disorder? Best believe he will force you to get checked for every possibility; if you haven’t already done so.

If nothing comes up, he will suggest exercise.

You are welcome to join him on his morning runs or occasional bouts to the gym.

Of course, he’s more than willing to warm you up in alternative ways ;)

He’s a busy man, balancing his work and extracurricular activities, so he won’t always be around for you to warm up against.

When that's the case, you have plenty of stuff he’s provided for you.

When he is around and notices your abnormally cold hands or feet, he will address it silently, handing you fuzzy socks or a heating pad.

He’s got to make sure his favorite pet stays in good health after all ;)

[lxvvie]

Simon who shoulders your pain as if it were his very own.

And vice versa. Whatever pain he's endured, you've shouldered it just as much as he did.

So whenever he endures the agony of your cold hands dipped down into his sweats or boxers under the guise of... warmth—"You're my furnace,"—Simon figures you'd do the same and keep him warm during those long, cold nights.

And you do.

And there you are, cocooned by your behemoth of a missus, his ice-cold feet intertwined with yours—"Why the hell are your feet so cold, Simon?" "Haven't set 'em on my furnace yet, luv."

You could practically hear the amusement in his voice. Ha. Very fuckin' funny, Simon.

So when you gift him cute, fuzzy thermal socks, Simon figures you'd shoulder the pain of him sleeping with bloody fuckin' socks on in bed.

And you do. With a groan.

"Can't do without my furnace, sweetheart."

Oh, piss off, Simon.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

When it comes to cold weather, the main rule (regardless of gender or presentation) is: when in doubt, choose warmth and safety over style. 

Some basics: 

Layering is your best friend: Start with moisture-wicking base layers to keep sweat off your skin. Follow with insulating layers (like fleece or wool), and finish with a weather-resistant outer layer (like a puffer jacket or waterproof coat) to protect against wind, snow or rain.

Keep your sensitive areas warm: Make sure your hands, feet, and head are covered! Gloves, warm socks and a beanie can prevent cold-related discomfort or injuries. 

Waterproof: If you're facing snow or rain, make sure your clothes are waterproof. Wet clothes lose their insulating ability, so staying dry is a big part of staying warm! 

Reflective Gear: If you’re out in the dark or in poor visibility conditions, consider adding reflective elements to your outfit for safety.

People can react differently to temperatures. A temperature that feels super cold to you could feel comfortable to someone else, depending on what you’re used to (and some other factors). As a very basic rule, we can say: Gloves, beanies, and other cold-weather accessories typically become necessary when temperatures drop below 40°F (4°C). In more severe cold (below 32°F (0°C)), it’s even more important to wear them to protect yourself from frostbite and maintain body warmth. But it goes even in milder weather: if you feel uncomfortable or if it’s windy or damp, it’s a good idea to add these items for extra comfort.

With all that being said: Clothes are not just for safety and temperature control, they also help you express yourself - and that doesn’t suddenly change in winter. 

Dressing for cold weather doesn’t have to mean sacrificing your personal look. Whether you want to present more feminine, more masculine, or more androgynous, here are some tips to help you layer up and feel like yourself: 

(Note that these are suggestions, not hard rules. Style is highly subjective as everyone has different tastes, preferences, body types, fashion inspirations, budgets, cultural influences etc. I could suggest something here that you’d feel super uncomfortable in - if so, that’s not a sign you’re “doing it wrong”! Cherry-pick what feels right and ignore the rest) 

If You Want to Present More Feminine

Base Layers: If you want to wear skirts or dresses in winter, start with thermal leggings or tights! These can be nicely paired with cozy, long-sleeved tops or lightweight thermal shirts. (But also keep in mind that plenty of women, cis or trans, do not wear dresses all the time! Nothing wrong with choosing jeans!) 

Outer Layers: There are plenty of styles to choose from that have a feminine touch, such as a belted trench coat, a pea coat, or a long wool coat. Shawls are also excellent for adding a touch of style while keeping you warm! 

Footwear: Knee-high or thigh-high boots lined with faux fur or fleece can keep your legs warm and add a polished look to your outfit. Ankle boots with thicker socks are also a good alternative.

Accessories: Scarves, gloves, and beanies can be both practical and stylish. Knit hats or earmuffs can add a soft, cozy vibe to your look.

Style Tip: Go for a mix of fabrics like wool, faux fur, and knitwear to create texture and warmth.

If You Want to Present More Masculine: 

- Base Layers: Start with thermal undershirts or moisture-wicking base layers. Consider long underwear for added insulation beneath your pants.

- Outer Layers: There’s plenty of outerwear to choose from, like a puffer jacket, parka, or wool overcoat! (Faux) Leather or bomber jackets layered over sweaters can also add a masculine edge while keeping you warm.

- Footwear: You might want to opt for sturdy boots, such as work boots, Chelsea boots, or combat boots. Thicker socks can keep your feet warm.

- Accessories: Don’t skip out on scarves, beanies, or gloves for being “too feminine”. They can actually be great for adding a more rugged feel to your outfit! You just gotta find a color and style that fits you well. 

Style Tip: Focus on layering in a way that adds structure. Sweaters, button-ups, and jackets work great together for a sharp, put-together look. Play with dark, neutral tones and thick fabrics like wool or denim for extra warmth and style.

If You Want to Present Androgynous

- Base Layers: Neutral-colored thermal tops or turtlenecks can serve as great foundational pieces. You may want to pair these with straight-leg or loose-fitting pants that allow room for layering underneath.

- Outer Layers: Oversized coats, puffer jackets, or long trench coats can work well for an androgynous look. Try layering with oversized sweaters or fleece pullovers for extra warmth.

- Footwear: You could go for sneakers, lace-up boots, or loafers paired with warm, thick socks. But really, any pair of shoes can work for an unisex outfit. 

- Accessories: Neutral-colored scarves, simple beanies, and fingerless gloves can add to an androgynous look. Minimalist accessories like oversized scarves or gender-neutral caps are both practical and stylish.

Style Tip: Aim for a balanced mix of structured and relaxed pieces. Try loose layers on top with more fitted pants, or vice versa, to create an effortless, warm, and non-gendered appearance.

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[mapis-putellas]

𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 3600

Warning: none

Summary: You take Alexia on a surprise Christmas trip to Whistler, Canada. [Requested]

The trip to Whistler had been in the works for months, planned out with all the precision of one of your team's training sessions. The goal was simple: a cozy Christmas in the mountains, skiing by day and unwinding together by night. Alexia had been elated about it from the start. But as soon as the two of you stepped off the plane, her excitement collided with the reality of the freezing Canadian winter, and her enthusiasm took a slight hit. The two of you hadn't even gotten to the cabin yet, and she was already tugging her scarf tighter around her neck, teeth chattering and eyebrows furrowed as she tried to bury her face in her coat.

It was late when you arrived at the cabin, so after unpacking the essentials, you put together a quick dinner, each of you too tired to do more than eat quietly by the fire, savoring the warmth. Afterward, you both moved to the bathroom, Alexia looking comically miserable as she peeled off her layers of cold-weather clothing. She muttered something under her breath, half in Spanish and half in English, that was likely a complaint about the chill as you guided her into the warm spray of the shower. The exhaustion from the trip hit as soon as you got out, and the two of you collapsed into bed, Alexia curling up close as you held her, excitement for the next day's plans lingering between you even as sleep took over.

The next morning, you woke to find Alexia still fast asleep, barely stirring when you leaned down to kiss her cheek and whisper that it was time to get ready. She mumbled something unintelligible, eyes remaining stubbornly shut until you nudged her again, teasing her gently about her reluctance. Finally, she cracked an eye open, groaning as she dragged herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, her hair tousled and her face etched with sleepy reluctance.

"Here, baby." You hand her the coffee you'd made, and she takes it with a sleepy smile, bringing it to her lips with for a cautious sip. As she sat sipping her coffee, you started pulling layers out of her suitcase. One by one, you helped her bundle up: a thermal layer, a thick sweater, a puffy jacket, woolly socks, gloves. Even a woolly hat.

By the time you were done, she looked more like a marshmallow than the world-class footballer she was, bundled in layers of thermals, fleece, and down.

Alexia blinked, tugging at her gloves and shooting you an unamused look.

You grinned as you tugged Alexia's woolly hat down over her ears, admiring how cute she looked bundled up like this. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her lips formed an adorable pout.

"I look... silly," she grumbled, glancing down at herself and tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of her oversized coat.

You laughed, stepping closer to adjust her scarf. "No, you look adorable."

Alexia's pout deepened, and she raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Like... marshmallow. Fat marshmallow," she muttered, her accent thick, and a little frustration creeping into her voice.

"An adorable marshmallow," you insisted, leaning in to press a kiss to her nose. She huffed, her lips twitching as if fighting a smile, but she couldn't hide the slight blush that crept over her cheeks.

"Ridículo," she mumbled, shaking her head as she playfully nudged you. "You enjoy this too much."

"Maybe," you admitted, grinning as you pulled your own gloves on. "Alright, ready to go, my cute little marshmallow?"

She shot you a look, though her eyes sparkled with a mix of exasperation and affection. "I am not a marshmallow," she muttered under her breath as she followed you out into the snow, pulling her hat down a little lower.

The two of you started trudging through the snow toward the rental shop, but it quickly became clear that Alexia was struggling. She slipped slightly with each step, gripping onto your arm like her life depended on it, muttering to herself in Spanish.

"This... no easy," she complained, her fingers digging into your jacket as she tried to steady herself. "Snow is... dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you teased, glancing at her. "I think you just need more practice, Ale."

She gave you a mock glare. "In Spain, no snow, you know? This... es muy difícil."

You laughed, shaking your head as you half considered scooping her up to make faster progress. But before you could, she stumbled again, clinging to your arm even tighter and shooting you a pleading look.

"Carry me?" she asked, batting her lashes, clearly not entirely joking.

You chuckled. "I'd love to, but I think you'll need to practice walking if you want to ski later."

Alexia rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath as she tried to keep her balance. By the time you reached the rental shop, there was already a line forming. Alexia shivered, cuddling close to you as you waited, her gloved hands tugging at your jacket.

Her nose, cold from the air, nudged against your neck, and you jolted slightly at the icy sensation. She giggled, her laugh muffled as she pressed closer, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"You're freezing, Ale," you muttered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as you pulled her close.

"Warm me," she mumbled, her voice low and half-hidden by your coat.

You rolled your eyes playfully, giving her a squeeze. "Just wait until we're actually skiing, baby. This is nothing compared to that."

She huffed, burying her face against your shoulder as you both shuffled forward in line. Alexia stayed pressed against you, eyes watching the skiers outside with something between curiosity and dread.

When it was finally your turn, you collected your skis and poles and started to help her secure her boots to the bindings. Alexia struggled to snap her boots into place, muttering a string of soft curses under her breath in Spanish as she fiddled with the straps.

"This is... estúpido," she muttered, looking up at you with a frown. "Does not... want to fit."

You knelt down, smiling as you adjusted the bindings and helped her snap her boots in place. "There. All good now," you said, pressing a kiss to her forehead to soften her frustration.

She sighed, her frown melting a bit as she looked at you, a hint of her pout still lingering. "Thank you. But... this still looks... hard."

"It's just going to take a little getting used to. We'll start easy." You handed her the ski poles, laughing softly as she stared at them like they were foreign objects.

She raised an eyebrow. "And... what is this?" she asked, holding the poles awkwardly. "I... I only see people do this on TV."

You smirked, trying not to laugh. "Those are your ski poles, Ale. They're for balance."

She made a face but didn't argue, clearly not sold on this idea. You reached out to guide her toward the beginner slope, explaining as you went. "We'll start on the bunny hill. It's for beginners."

"Bunny hill?" she repeated, looking at you skeptically. "Like... animal?"

You couldn't help but grin. "Yes, but here it means a small, easy hill for people just starting out."

Alexia didn't look convinced, glancing over at the slight incline. She let out a small sigh, clearly trying to come to terms with the fact that her first attempt would be on the easiest slope there was. But she didn't protest, just nodded, and gave you a resigned look.

"Fine. But no laughing if I... fall," she warned, her eyes narrowing.

"I would never," you promised, though the twinkle in your eye said otherwise.

She let out a huff, shaking her head. "Liar. You will laugh, I know you."

With a smile, you pulled her close for a quick kiss. "I'll try to keep a straight face," you said, fighting back a laugh.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling a little. "Mentirosa," she muttered, but her voice was soft, affectionate.

With one last reluctant sigh, Alexia gripped her poles tightly, her eyes darting over to the bunny hill with a mixture of determination and trepidation. You walked side by side, ready for whatever mishaps were about to unfold.

The two of you spent most of the day on the bunny hill, enjoying the quietness of the snowy landscape and each other's company. Alexia tried her hardest to keep up, but it was clear skiing wasn't in her wheelhouse. And, much as you tried to stifle it, you couldn't help but laugh every time she lost her balance and fell on her backside, letting out quiet curses in Spanish as she tried to pull herself up. You held out a hand to her each time, grinning as she took it with an exaggerated sigh, always muttering something unintelligible under her breath. Despite her frustration, you could tell she was still having fun, the sparkle in her eyes more than enough proof of that.

After a while, the two of you trudged back up the small slope for what felt like the tenth time that morning. Alexia stopped at the top and, with a huff, stabbed her ski poles into the snow. Without warning, she stumbled forward, collapsing into your arms with a dramatic sigh. Immediately, you wrapped your own arms around her, chuckling as you pressed a gentle kiss to her woolly hat, feeling the soft texture against your lips.

"You okay?" you asked, your voice laced with affection as you held her close.

Alexia nodded, though you could feel her shivering slightly against you. Her hands slowly moved around your waist, finding their way behind your back as she shifted closer. You sighed, thinking she was simply getting comfortable—until, out of nowhere, her cold, bare hands slipped under the layers of your coat, pressing directly against your warm skin. The sudden shock made you gasp, your body arching away instinctively as the freezing sensation seeped into you.

"Alexia!" you cursed, trying to pull away, but her arms held you firmly in place, her giggles echoing in your ear as she buried her head into your shoulder, clearly relishing your reaction. "Are you trying to freeze me to death?"

Her laugh was muffled against your neck, her shoulders shaking as she tightened her hold, her cold hands sliding even further up your back, sending chills up your spine. "Is warm here," she murmured, her accent soft and adorable even as she continued her playful torture.

"Oh, you're impossible!" you groaned, squirming as she wiggled her fingers against your skin, making you shiver from the icy touch. She giggled again, tilting her head to nuzzle her freezing cold nose into the side of your neck, and you let out a sharp gasp, torn between laughing and cursing as the chill made you instinctively huddle closer to her. "Seriously, Alexia, you're going to give me frostbite!"

"Is nice," she whispered, her voice laced with mischief as she continued to press herself against you, her cold hands roaming along your back, seeming to take every opportunity to spread the chill. Her head tucked deeper into the crook of your neck, her cold nose brushing against your skin as she let out a contented hum, completely ignoring your protests.

After a minute of her relentless antics, you finally mustered the strength to bat her hands away, catching them in your own as you took a step back, shivering from the cold that still lingered on your skin. You turned around to see the gloves she'd dropped earlier lying in the snow, and you quickly reached down to grab them, shaking your head as you held them out to her.

Alexia had a pout on her face when you turned back around, her expression a mix of disappointment and playful indignation. Her lower lip jutted out slightly, and her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the gloves in your hands, clearly unhappy that her fun had come to an end.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed her hands, tugging them forward as you slipped the gloves back on, muttering under your breath, "You're nothing but trouble, you know that?"

She giggled, giving you a look of innocent defiance as she wiggled her now-gloved fingers in your hold. "Me? Trouble?" she replied, her accent thick as she batted her eyelashes at you, doing her best to look as angelic as possible.

"Yes, trouble," you huffed, tightening the gloves on her hands with a smirk. "And now that your hands are warm, no more sneaking them under my coat, got it?"

Alexia's pout deepened, her shoulders slumping slightly as she looked down at her gloved hands, clearly disappointed. "But is warm," she whined softly, her gaze flicking up to meet yours, a hint of mischief still sparkling in her eyes.

You let out a playful scoff, crossing your arms as you raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't care how warm it is, your hands were like icicles!" You shook your head, giving her a gentle nudge as you added, "You're lucky I didn't push you back down the hill."

She laughed, her giggles filling the air as she leaned in closer, reaching up to tug gently on the collar of your coat, her smile softening as she looked up at you. "I don’t mind," she murmured, her gaze warm despite the cold around you.

You felt your heart soften at her words, her playful charm as endearing as ever. Smiling, you leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, watching as her eyes widened in surprise before her cheeks flushed, a faint pink that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Come on, trouble," you whispered, squeezing her hand as you turned to guide her back down the hill. "Let's get you warmed up for real this time."

As you and Alexia headed back to the cabin, a mischievous idea began to form in your mind. She was walking a bit ahead of you, bundled up and focused on keeping herself steady in the thick snow. It was the perfect opportunity.

You bent down, scooped up a handful of soft, powdery snow, and quickly shoved it down the back of her jacket. Her reaction was instant. A loud gasp escaped her as she shrieked, twisting and squirming, trying to shake the snow out. "Ay!" she yelped, hopping from foot to foot. Her hands flew to her back, frantically brushing at her jacket in a futile attempt to get rid of the snow as it melted against her skin.

You couldn't help it—watching her wriggle around like that had you laughing so hard tears filled your eyes. Her face twisted in mock outrage, eyes wide as she stared at you in shock.

"Oh no... you didn't," she said, her accent thick and her expression one of complete betrayal.

You could barely manage to get a word out between laughs. "I—I did! Payback for those cold hands earlier."

But to your surprise, she didn't attempt to get you back. Instead, Alexia gave you a look so full of hurt, bottom lip quivering ever-so-slightly, that you felt a pang of guilt despite yourself.

"Oh no, oh no, don't do that," you stammered, dropping your handful of snow and hurrying toward her, arms outstretched to pull her close.

Alexia shivered as she clung to you, still giving you that wide-eyed look of betrayal as she buried her head into your shoulder, sniffling dramatically. "Es... so cold," she whispered, clutching you even tighter, the snow in her jacket now melting against her skin. She was practically trembling as you held her, and you realized you might have overdone it a bit.

"Come on, let's get you inside," you said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as you quickly guided her toward the warmth of the cabin.

Once inside, you immediately set about helping her peel off the snow-soaked layers. Her jacket came off first, and then her scarf and gloves, her damp hair clinging to her face. She looked like she'd just trekked through a snowstorm. You felt a pang of guilt seeing her like that, her teeth chattering slightly as she shivered in her damp shirt.

"Sorry, love, I didn't mean for it to be this bad," you murmured, brushing a few damp strands of hair from her forehead.

She didn't answer right away, just looked at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes and a still-pouting expression. "You... are cruel," she muttered in her thick accent, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Let me make it up to you," you replied, quickly pulling off your own jacket and scarf. You grabbed the hoodie you'd left discarded on the couch last night and stepped toward her, gesturing for her to lift her arms. She obeyed, still giving you a half-hearted pout as you pulled her damp shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

Once her shirt was off, you slipped the hoodie over her head, guiding her arms through the sleeves and tugging it down to cover her properly. She looked adorable, swimming in your oversized hoodie, her face still showing signs of a pout, though she looked a bit less disgruntled now that she was warming up.

"There we go," you murmured, giving her a soft smile. "All better now?"

She didn't answer immediately, just crossed her arms and looked at you, still pouting. Without saying anything, you made your way over to the couch, settling down with your head resting against the armrest. You looked at her and opened your arms invitingly, a grin tugging at your lips.

Alexia's pout vanished, replaced by a barely concealed smile as she eagerly scrambled onto the couch, laying herself down completely on top of you, her head finding its favorite spot against your chest. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, holding her close, feeling the weight and warmth of her body sink into you.

"You're a big baby, you know that?" you whispered, chuckling softly as she adjusted herself, making herself comfortable.

"Sí, but... you love me," she murmured in reply, her hands sneaking under your shirt once more, only this time between you and the couch, pressed against the bare skin of your back. They were still ice-cold, and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through you as her cold fingers settled there.

"You're trying to freeze me alive, aren't you?" you muttered, half-joking as you tightened your hold on her.

She giggled, lifting her head slightly to look at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe... a little," she admitted, nestling her head back against your chest, her nose cold as she pressed it against the side of your neck. You could feel her breath, still a little chilled, against your skin.

"Why are your hands still so cold?" you asked, laughing softly as you ran a hand up and down her back, trying to warm her up. "You're going to freeze both of us if you keep this up."

She gave a soft, sleepy hum as she nuzzled even closer, her weight pressing down on you comfortably. "I like your warm," she mumbled, her accent thickening as she relaxed more. Her voice was quieter now, tinged with a hint of drowsiness. You could tell she was finally warming up, her breathing slowing as she settled against you, her head tucked into the crook of your neck.

"Fine, you win," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "But no more cold hands on bare skin, okay?”

At that, she immediately lifted her head, looking at you with wide, sad eyes, her lower lip jutting out in a pout that was as adorable as it was ridiculous. "No... cold hands?" she repeated, clearly not pleased with this new rule.

"Yep, that's the rule," you replied, struggling to hold back a laugh at her expression. "No more freezing me."

Her pout deepened, and she leaned in closer, her face mere inches from yours as she stared at you, her brown eyes wide and pleading. "But... I like your warm," she said, her voice soft, her lips quivering slightly as she tried her best to convince you to change your mind.

You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as you reached up to gently cup her face. "Alright, alright... but only if you promise to give me fair warning next time. No more surprise attacks, okay?"

A bright grin spread across her face, and she nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she snuggled back down against your chest, arms wrapping around you once more. "I promise," she whispered, her voice muffled as she buried her face against your shoulder, her cold nose pressed against your skin again.

You sighed, letting out a soft chuckle as you held her close, feeling the last traces of cold finally start to fade as her breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely against you. It wasn't long before you felt her weight grow heavier, her soft breaths becoming steady and even as she drifted off to sleep, her face still nestled against your neck.

You ran a hand gently up and down her back, tracing slow, soothing circles as you held her, savoring the warmth and comfort of her presence. Even with the cold hands and dramatic pouts, you wouldn't trade moments like this for anything.

**

Tags:

@marysfics @ceesimz @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @goldenempyrean @simp4panos @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @silentwolfsstuff

[rustedhearts]

keepsakes (boxer!steve harrington x fem librarian!reader)

summary: the heat goes out during an autumnal cold front in your new hawkins home, so you make the most of a cozy day at home.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1995) ✶ the library ✶ ‘tis autumn

✶ roller girl’s pie stand!

tags: pure marshmallow fluff, allusion to smut at the end. akin to old boxer steve from ‘22

hawkins, indiana. october, 1995.

“They said they can’t get out until Tuesday,” Steve huffs, slamming the phone back into the receiver on the kitchen wall.

You groan into the steam furling from the ceramic pot on the stove. “Ugh, come onnnn.”

Steve shuffles into the room with a sigh, thermal-sleeved arms winding their way around your shoulders. They fold together over your chest, guiding you back against him. You let him tuck his mouth into your neck, lips warm, nose cold. You jolt a little when it brushes your skin, giggling when he huffs a harsh breath.

“Mm, I know, angel. But ‘m here to warm ya up,” he mumbles against your throat.

Each of you had enough layers on to keep decently toasty. What you could rummage out of boxes still taped up now sat in a messy pile on your bed upstairs. You hadn’t expected such a cold autumn and thought you had at least a few weeks before you had to break out the winter gear. But now a long sleeve turtleneck sits under a clove-scented 49ers sweatshirt, big and bulky and soft inside like you liked it. Your sweatpants are matching in black color, and you have your hair tied up just like Steve liked it.

He has a white t-shirt under a navy blue thermal that makes his hair seem more chestnut than usual. His sweatpants are grey, the Jimmy’s Gym logo on the top right thigh cracked and faded from wear. You have a pair of his white socks on, and you think it’s adorable that the pair of you have matching feet right now.

Steve presses a noisy kiss to the column of your throat. His hair tickles your chin and makes you laugh again.

“Whatcha got planned today, hmm?”

You stir the wooden spoon through your soup again. “Guess.”

Steve hums thoughtfully, lifting from your neck to squint at the tile. “Hmm, if I had t’ guess, I’d say…reading in that ‘lil window upstairs, pretending you aren’t freezin’ your ass off.”

You scoff, cheeks warming. “N-no…”

“No?” Steve tips his head and kisses your cheek this time. “Saw the book already out. Waitin’ for you. Can’t you hear it calling, baby? All those words you have to read.”

You giggle, squirming in his arms. “Stop, don’t make fun of me.”

You click the gas off and Steve coos, clutching you a little tighter. His cheek is lukewarm when it presses to your temple.

“Aww, my ‘lil nerd. ‘s okay, angel, you know your librarian glasses are so fuckin’ sexy.”

You clutch the handle of the ceramic pot and veer toward the counter, where two mismatched bowls are waiting. Steve gets the hint, matching your steps until you’re moving together. You tip the pot and pour equal amounts of the chicken soup into each bowl, splattering noodle and broth drippings as you go. The window above the sink beside you is beginning to fog with the warmth of the stove. Beyond it, your neighbor’s tree is a vibrant yellow. Shedding pointed leaves across the yard, stuck in the jagged edges of the wooden fence. They gather on Steve’s BMW window, suctioned to the glass with this morning’s rain. The sky’s still a muddled grey, and you have all the lamps and candles lit in the house.

Steve somehow always gets horny in candlelight.

“My librarian glasses? Grab some spoons, please, baby?”

Steve takes one arm from your chest to lean to the left and open the utensil drawer. He gathers two spoons in his hand and nudges it shut, immediately returning to ensure both arms are back in place.

“Yeah. ‘s a good thing, baby, I promise.”

You take the spoons dangling near your collarbone and plop one into each bowl.

“Stevie, can you take ‘em? They’re hot.”

Steve takes a bowl in each hand around your sides and reluctantly pulls away from you. The pair of you whirl around and head for the dining room, a bowl clunking onto a plaid placemat at each assigned seating. Yet as you pull your chair out and go to sit, a pout appears on Steve’s face. He hasn’t even touched his chair.

“What?” you giggle.

“I just…you’re so far away.”

“I’m literally right here.”

“Too far,” he huffs. He swings around and directs his gaze toward the living room. “Let’s go sit on the floor.”

A soft smile touches your face, that glowing warmth gathering in your cheeks again. Oh, something about the cold made Steve so sweet.

“You wanna have a carpet picnic?” You beam.

Steve tips his head back and rolls his eyes. “You and that damn movie—yes, angel, we can have a carpet picnic.”

“Yay, okay! Take the bowls, please.”

He hides his grin against the back of your head when you flounce your way into the living room, forgetting all about the goosebumps and shivers you endured when you woke up to a frozen house this morning. You peel the throw blankets off the back of the couch and lay them on the carpet, smoothing out any wrinkles you know Steve will replace in just a few moments.

The bowls are placed on the coffee table, a folded napkin under each. Steve waits patiently at the corner of the blanket, knowing you’ll let him know when he can join.

The lamplight above you catches and glows on your left hand. On the diamond glimmering on your second smallest finger, haloed with beams of orange. When you lift your hands and pass the flames of the fireplace, amber rays pierce through the crystalline gem.

Steve watches all the while. Watches you move your hands, knowing soon your diamond will rest above a wedding band. In a mere month, just a few short weeks—you’ll be his wife.

The thought alone has Steve sinking to his knees. You whip around to scold him for interrupting your process, but squeak in surprise when he catches your face and kisses you. He smells like cold air and leaves and vaguely of the Marlboro smoked a few hours ago. He smells like Steve.

When he pulls away, you sit back on the blanket and grin. “What on earth was that for?”

Steve assumes the spot across from you, kicking his legs out beside you. He reaches for the soup bowls and carefully places yours near your tucked-in knees.

“What was what for?”

You scrape your teeth over your bottom lip and laugh. “Never mind.”

You turn your attention to the chicken noodle soup and Steve turns back to you. Watches through his lashes as you lift your hands and wipe away wisps of hair on your forehead. Black sleeves curled over your knuckles to keep warm, your fingers appear beneath them in delicate form. He wishes to do nothing but kiss them and stare more at that ring.

“Is it not good?”

Steve blinks, lifting his spoon. Your lips are shiny with broth and oil, eyes rounded in his direction. They catch the fire like your ring and they make Steve swallow hard.

“N-no, baby, ‘s good.” He quickly shovels a spoonful of the soup in his mouth to prove it.

You do a little squirm and smile that makes Steve chuckle. He hunches over his lap to slurp the broth and you wrinkle up your nose.

“Ew, Steven.”

His spoon clinks against the bowl when he drops it.

“Heyyy,” he warns playfully. “Don’t start. There was no attitude at their carpet picnic.”

You giggle. “No, but there was a blowjob if I remember correctly.”

Steve lowers his bowl completely, eyes suddenly alert. “Well, that’s welcome any time.”

Broth bubbles with laughter in your bowl. Steve watches you take small, quiet spoonfuls. When he decides you were only joking and there won’t be an immediate gratification for his Pretty Woman joke, Steve goes back to his soup, too.

Soon the soup is gone and the bowls sit empty on the table. You stretch onto your stomach and place your head on Steve’s lap, allowing his fingers to work over your hair. He pulls it free from its confines and smooths it down. Massages your scalp until your eyes flutter. The flames of the fire rest in dancing orange shimmers on your face.

The rain begins again. It comes with a great howling wind, rushing through the trees and shaking colors loose. The house darkens to near nighttime degree. A grey darkness that turns all the candle flames and lamplight in the room warm.

“Will you read to me, Stevie?” you inquire softly.

Steve’s fingers lag in your hair. He shifts, resting back on his palm.

“Uh…I mean—you sure? Y’ know ‘m not very good at it.”

You let your eyes close and smile to yourself. “I’m sure. I love the sound of your voice.”

Steve smooths his palm over the crown of your head, cupping it. With your eyes closed, he’s free to grin down at you and know it’s just for him. Do you have any idea what you do to him?

“Gonna let me up then?”

You hum. “In a minute.”

“Okay,” he murmurs in agreement.

He holds you there a moment longer, watching the fire warm your face; your socked feet cricketing together at the edge of the blanket contentedly.

“Okay,” you say, pushing yourself up. “Now you can go.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he stands. “Spoiled. What am I getting?”

“You pick. I’m gonna bake some cookies.”

Steve watches you bounce back toward the kitchen with both soup bowls. “Well Jesus, have a little faith in me. I know my way around your shelves.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, setting the bowls in the sink. “You want chocolate or snickerdoo—“

Your words die on your tongue, slipping between Steve’s lips. He pinches your jaw in one hand and holds you still, mouth forced to pucker for his gift. He hums when he nips at your bottom lip, licking at his own when he releases you.

“Somethin’ t’ think about while ‘m gone,” he says, a heavy hand popping across the fat of your asscheek before he turns around.

Steve heads toward the stairs, ascending them while doing his best to crane over the railing and watch your flushed reaction until he no longer can. He immediately walks to your library–much smaller than the one back in California, but somehow it captured the girl he met in this very town better than anything in the sunshine state ever could—and directs his attention to your stuffed shelves.

He has absolutely no idea what he’s looking for, and stands for a while just staring aimlessly at the spines with his hands on his hips. He hears you clink and clang around in the kitchen. The beep of the oven. The slam of the oven door. It’s much colder in the library, and Steve swears there’s a draft in your window seat.

He turns to inspect it, pressing one hand firmly on the cold, foggy glass. As he leans over the plaid fabric of your window seat, his thigh nudges the corner of a leather-bound journal. He recognizes it immediately as the same journal always kept on the bedside table and in the bottom of your purse. It's always next to you so long as you can help it.

When he spins it with his finger, the Polaroid used to keep your last page inches its way to the edge. Steve slowly and carefully pulls it from the pages.

He sinks into the window seat when he's met with his own face.

Six years old now, the photograph is still as perfectly intact as the day it was taken. The flash collects in a younger Steve's eyes, making them appear darker than they really are. The film softens the emerald and violet bruise kissing his left cheek that Steve vividly remembers taking weeks to disappear completely.

He knows immediately where he's standing, where the photograph was taken by the color of the wall alone. The soft ballerina pink, the edges of rosebuds from now-outdated wallpaper. The arched mirror of your vanity rests just behind his shoulders, stretched and puffed broadly with the flex of his arms. Though the muscles are concealed beneath a heavy black sweatshirt, embroidered with his recent champion title.

And in the glossy white border just below his stomach where the photograph completes, remains your handwriting.

My boyfriend husband ♡

"Steeeve? Did you find one?"

Steve quickly clambers to his feet, shoving the Polaroid back into its place in the journal. He grabs the book you had sitting on your rumpled blanket on the cushion.

"Yeah, coming!"

His footsteps clunk down the stairs, and he's met with the scent of warm cinnamon when he finds you in the kitchen, wiping down the counter.

You spin with the rag in hand and a small grin. “Hey, did you find one?”

Steve sets the book on the counter gently. Your eyes turn to inspect the cover, surprised to see one of your “stuffiest” options waiting. Steve hates Dracula, and he hates attempting to read anything written before 1950.

Before you can question his choice, Steve takes a slow step toward you.

“How long do the cookies have?” he asks.

You glance at the timer. “Um…ten minutes, why?”

His hands smooth over your waist, thumbs pressing into your stomach. He grips you firmly, stepping until he can fit his head in your neck again. His response comes in the form of his mouth on your throat—latching on with his hot, wet suction. You gasp, hands flying to touch him: one gripping the front of his shirt and the other tangling in his hair.

He hums, releasing your skin to kiss it gently. He moves down, dragging his nose over your skin. His suction returns to the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the tendons are soft and waiting to be bitten. You jolt with a quiet squeak, grip tightening on his collar.

“St-Steve—“

“Shhh.” He moves one hand from your waist to your chin and tips it away to make room for his head on the other side of your throat. “‘s nine minutes now, angel. Come lay down f’ me so we can make the most of it.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the living room again, and you follow silently. Nearly hypnotized by his softness, tongue swollen dumbly in your mouth.

He takes both your hands to lower you down to the station of your carpet picnic. You thump to your knees, and he follows suit only to lay you on your back with his hand supporting the back of your head. When you’re flat, you blink up at him with bated breaths.

Steve smiles, fingers curling into the elastic band of your sweatpants. The house seems hotter than ever, a flaming warmth coating your body as his touch drags down your thighs with your clothing.

“Don’t worry. Your husband’s gonna take care o’ you, angel.”

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Deez Nuts Thermal Socks

The Best Thermal Deez Nuts Socks for keeping your feet warm all year long, so get ready for the cold weather with our Deez Nuts Thermal Socks with the designed on the bottom of the sole. Our Thermal Socks are an upgrade from other socks. Socks are also indispensable part of our wardrobes, so it’s important to choose a quality pair, especially a designed pair!

These premium heavy weight Thermal Socks are specifically designed to protect your feet during the coldest time of year with none of the sweat. These Thermal socks are comfortable, easy to pull on and off and they will keep your feet cozy and dry all day long. Thermal Socks are designed for ultimate warmth even in the most extreme weather, these Thermal Socks are GREAT for the extreme cold weather! You can also wear these Thermal Socks under your boots or as leg warmers for double protection.

Shoe size 6-12. Material is cotton, polyester, and spandex. The Material breakdown is 60% Cotton, 39% Polyester and 1% Spandex. The width is 4 inches, and the height is 22.125 inches.

Perfect for outdoor sports, going to the office, and curling up on the couch in the winter months.

Care instructions: Machine wash cold with like colors. Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

goimagine.com/ https://goimagine.com/granny-and-grandpas-custom-creations/

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The Best Thermal Deez Nuts Socks for keeping your feet warm all year long, so get ready for the cold weather with our Deez Nuts Thermal Socks with the designed on the bottom of the sole. Our Thermal Socks are an upgrade from other socks. Socks are also indispensable part of our wardrobes, so it’s important to choose a quality pair, especially a designed pair!

These premium heavy weight Thermal Socks are specifically designed to protect your feet during the coldest time of year with none of the sweat. These Thermal socks are comfortable, easy to pull on and off and they will keep your feet cozy and dry all day long. Thermal Socks are designed for ultimate warmth even in the most extreme weather, these Thermal Socks are GREAT for the extreme cold weather! You can also wear these Thermal Socks under your boots or as leg warmers for double protection.

Shoe size 6-12. Material is cotton, polyester, and spandex. The Material breakdown is 60% Cotton, 39% Polyester and 1% Spandex. The width is 4 inches, and the height is 22.125 inches.

Perfect for outdoor sports, going to the office, and curling up on the couch in the winter months.

Care instructions: Machine wash cold with like colors. Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!

website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop

facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/

instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/

goimagine.com/ https://goimagine.com/granny-and-grandpas-custom-creations/

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[last-starry-sky]

kinktober day 23 - stockings

könig x f!reader

[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 1k, established relationship, stocking kink (obv), oral.]

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass

“What are . . .” your boyfriend asked, mind blanking mid-sentence to gawk at you. You had to wave your hand at him to snap his attention back to where it needed to be. “What are those, liebling?”

You stood there awkwardly, half in the kitchen, not sure what he meant. You looked down at yourself, still in your pj’s from last night. Nothing new or different. 

“What do you mean?” you asked after an uncomfortably long silence.

“Those,” he said motioning to your legs with his spatula. You could smell whatever he was whipping up for breakfast cooking closer and closer to burnt in the kitchen. “Why . . . what . . .” he asked, growing more and more flustered. 

“Oh,” you said, holding your leg out, thick black lace covering it from toe to thigh. “These? My socks? What’s wrong-”

“No no no no,” he said, hands out, drizzling back and forth between German and English. You could really tell he was getting frazzled now. That, and he had definitely burnt breakfast and still hadn’t noticed. “Those are not socks. Those are . . . big? Tall? Taller than socks. How is it- . . .”

“Ohhhhh,” you said, nodding, finally understanding what word he was searching for. “They’re called stockings,” you said showing off your other foot with a wiggle of your toes. “I packed them because I figured it would be cold here. Got to have layers!”

He continued to stand there confused, eyes raking over your legs until the smoke alarm beeped. That broke the spell. Your boyfriend jumped to attention, dashing into the kitchen, German swears rattling out behind him ad he waved away smoke and tried rescue the charred remains of his breakfast. 

You padded away with a smirk, soft feet barely making a sound against the hardwood, and decided to have cereal for breakfast. 

König kept his large hand wrapped around your knee, fingers flexing into the warmth of your inner thighs, that night while you cuddled on the couch. There was no TV or internet in the alpine cabin he had rented for the month, so, barring your boyfriend suddenly blooming out of his shell and become an active conversationalist, there was very little the two of you could do once the snow piled up and the sun set. 

He had built a fire early in the morning and kept it fed all day, knowing that it was the only heat for the small cabin. When your boyfriend had told you it was a “charming” and “rustic” cabin getaway in the Alps, you hadn’t fully understood what you were getting into. While König had enough size to spend his time indoors in just a t shirt, you had to seriously bundle up. Besides your long stockings you had on: a pair of large wool socks, thermal sweats (these you had wormed out of once König had added his body heat between your legs) over your pj shorts, a long sleeve base layer, a t shirt, and a thick, cabled, sweater you had bought in the cute little town nestled along the mountain road before making the trip up. Anytime you sat down, such as right now, you also had a blanket (or three) wrapped around you. 

König ran his hand up and down your thigh, fingers running along the nubby knit of the stitches, squishing fat and muscle under his grip. You loved it. He was so warm. Pure body heat did so much more to raise your temperature than all your clothes and blankets combined. You cozied up as close as you could to his massive form, stealing as much of the warmth pouring off of him as you could, and almost fell asleep. 

Then, the blankets were suddenly shucked off of you, the cold ambient air shocked you awake. You boyfriend’s large hand pushed you flat to the couch cushions, splaying your legs to make room for himself. 

“Wha-” you mumbled, bleary eyes unable to see the feral hunger, lit orange by the firelight, in your boyfriends eyes as he loomed over you.

His hands ran up your legs until they were stopped by your shorts. You moaned, more from the return of that blissful heat than anything else. 

“Oh,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the meat of your inner thighs. You bit back another moan. Your silent man rarely said anything during sex and you did not want to miss it. “So pretty like this,”

He roughly pulled your shorts down, leaving you cold and bizarrely over-clothed on your torso and feet with your bare pussy exposed. He groaned again, large thumb pushing at your seam until you opened for him, sparkling slick spilling out over your thighs. He pulled your body toward him, popping your leg squished against the back of the sofa up to drape over his shoulder. He pressed kisses down your black stockings, biting your skin with a muffled groan that rumbles in his chest, his head snug to your core. 

You laced your fingers in his hair, wavering between getting his attention enough to move to the bed or push him down to finish what he’d started. 

“Babe- Ah!” you whispered, even though you’re absolutely alone in the small cabin. Hell, you two are possibly the only two people this side of the mountain. He forced your words to transform into a breathy moan as his nose slid through your pussy, high-points of his face painting with your slick as he drug through it. You shivered as his open tongue finally lapped at your hole, sucking large, lazy, strokes around your folds, ignoring your clit almost entirely. 

“König,” you moaned, bucking your hips the tiniest little bit you could in his grip to try to lead him to where you needed him most. 

Your boyfriend just chuckled, hands lovingly circling the ribbed, elastic bands at the tops of your stockings as he pulled up onto his elbows. You groaned in frustration when he sat up on his knees, leaving you chilled and needy. He wiped your slick from his face with the back of his hand, the other adjusting himself in his sweats. He patted your hip to signal you to get up. He gathered you up in his arms, blankets and all, once you did.

“Undress, but leave those on,” he instructed, stroking at your legs as he carried you toward the bedroom. “You’ll buy some more once we get home, yes?”

[ladytauria]

"tell me a secret" with jaytim if youre still taking prompts, been enjoying all of the snippets!

um.

so.

this one ran away with me. a little bit.

it's. it feels very messy. but i like the direction i ended up going with it. i think--- i think i might revisit this premise again. but for now, nonny, i hope you like it!

(also, i'm glad you enjoyed my snippets~)

There are few things worse than truth pollen, in Tim’s opinion. Give him fear gas or sex pollen any day of the week. Losing control of his tongue, confessions spilling from his mouth, helpless to do anything to stop it… It makes him shudder just to think about.

However—

He would gladly have taken a blast of truth pollen right to the face, if it meant Jason wouldn’t have.

Jason’s locked himself in an isolation cell, now, while Tim synthesizes an antidote. The general pollen vaccine had done little to help the effects of this strain. Confessions had tumbled from Jason’s lips all the way home, all through the blood draw. Tim tries hard not to think about them, to forget them completely, but they linger in the back of his mind. Whether he wants them to be or not, he knows they’ve been imprinted in the back of his mind, where they’ll be sorted and cataloged, brought out later if ever he needs them.

He never forgets. It’s something of a curse.

As soon as the antidote finishes, Tim sends it to Jason through a panel in the isolation cell. It should take an hour for it to kick in—Tim will be upstairs, whenever Jason is ready.

~

Two hours pass before Jason joins him. Tim sits at the kitchen island, hands around a mug. Steam still wafts up from it; his face warm and damp where it caresses his skin.

“That better not be coffee,” Jason says. He sounds even grumpier than usual—not that Tim can blame him.

He chooses not to comment on his mood, for the moment.

“It’s not,” he says. “It’s tea.” He pauses. “Herbal tea.”

Jason grunts. 

“There’s some for you on the counter.” He gestures.

Jason rounds the counter, finally coming into view. Tim’s shoulders loosen a little at the sight of him; curls and skin damp from a shower, cotton tee sticking to him. Sweatpants ride low on his hips. His socks have little gray cats on them.

“Did your cameras alert you I was coming up?”

Tim ignores the confrontational sneer in his tone. “No.”

For a moment, Jason’s body tenses like he’s going to challenge him on it—turn it into a fight, until one of them storms out or ends up sleeping in the guest room. Then he finds his tea, in a thermal traveling cup. The tension drains from him, then; weariness in the bow of his shoulders. He takes the cup and joins Tim at the island, settling onto the stool next to his.

Their shoulders brush. Tim knows it’s as close to an apology as he’ll get right now. He brushes against him again when he raises his mug to his mouth; a silent forgiveness.

Jason drinks his tea. He hums softly; a quiet, pleased noise.

They drink in silence. Tim wouldn’t describe it as comfortable, but the air isn’t as thick with tension as it could have been. He knew they would have to address it before they went to sleep; knew, for a while at least, that things would be… delicate. He’s not looking forward to walking on tiptoes—but it’s better than the alternative. It’s better than Jason leaving.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Tim murmurs, finally. “I’m not— I won’t ask. We can pretend like you never said anything.”

Jason is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper. Tim isn’t sure he would have heard it, if he hadn’t been listening for it.

He brushes against him again, as he gets up to put his mug in the sink. He smooths his hand over Jason’s back; from one shoulder to the other as he walks by—both touches a silent reassurance.

He puts his mug in the sink and stops by Jason again. This time, he kisses his temple. “I’m going to bed,” he murmurs. “Join me when you’re ready.”

Jason leans into his touch—turning, when Tim pulls away, to catch around the waist and pull him close. He kisses the corner of Tim’s eye. “I love you,” he murmurs.

Tim squeezes his forearm. “I love you too,” he breathes.

They stay like that for a moment—a long moment. And then, finally, Jason lets him go, smearing another kiss against his skin when he does. Tim lingers a moment more, and then he heads off to their bedroom.

It’s maybe ten, fifteen minutes before Jason joins him, curling up in Tim’s arms; letting Tim plaster himself against his back, sighing sweetly when Tim’s chin rests atop his curls. He tangles their fingers together over their stomach.

Tim falls asleep knowing everything is going to be okay.

~

Tim doesn’t just forget about it. He can’t—though he tries. The things Jason said turn over and over in his mind, every time there’s a lull at work, on patrol, in the quiet moments he spends with Jason. He keeps his word. He doesn’t ask about them. He doesn’t even go digging through Batman’s files, or the city’s files—although the temptation sits heavy on his shoulders.

Instead—he ends up thinking, again and again, about secrets.

About Jason’s. About his own. About all the things that sit, buried deep under his tongue, where he would never dare to speak them aloud. But the more he thinks about the more he sees them as cracks—fissures, things not sitting quietly in himself but things keeping them apart.

He finds himself wanting to dig them up. To look at them in the light, offer them to Jason; see if he finds even those parts of him worth loving.

He wants to do the same to Jason. To look at the ugliest parts of him again—this time without the wrongness of pollen coating them—and cradle them in his hands, tuck them in the spaces between his ribs. Soothe the hurts they left behind.

Tim knows Jason won’t let him.

But.

Tim has never needed reciprocation.

~

He starts offering them, impromptu, in their quiet moments.

“Sometimes I feel more like myself in a dress and heels than I do in a suit,” he confesses, while Jason is reading; Tim’s head in his lap while he plays on his switch. “I’ve thought about looking into it—but honestly. Exploring... that on top of everything else just sounds exhausting.” 

Jason pauses, fingers in Tim’s hair, and says, “If you ever want to, I’ll support you. I’ll love you, no matter what you decide.” 

Tim turns and kisses his stomach.

~

A few days later, they’re cooking together. Tim stirs noodles, while Jason chops vegetables. “The first time I dressed up as a woman, I looked so much like my mother I almost couldn’t leave the manor. I don't think I would have, if not for the mission.”

The knife pauses; the sound of chopping stops. “That must have been a lot,” Jason says, tentatively. 

Tim doesn’t have to look over to know Jason is giving him a weird look. He can feel it on the back of his head.

“It was,” he agrees. “Are you sure I salted this enough?”

~

His next confession is delivered when Tim is donning one of his aliases for an undercover job. Jason is sweet enough to do up his zipper for him.

“I created my first alias when I was seven. I mean, I guess it was more playing pretend, but... I dunno. It felt more serious than that, even then. I kept making more as I got older, trying them on... whenever I felt like it. Now it’s something I do as a hobby, to keep my skills sharp, but there was a time when I wanted to be anyone other than Tim Drake.”

Jason meets his eyes in the mirror; gaze unfathomable. “What changed?”

Tim’s lips quirk. “It’s hard to fall in love as anyone but yourself.”

The flush on Jason’s face is vivid red. Tim is helpless to do anything but turn and kiss him.

~

After a fight, Tim calls Jason. It goes straight to voicemail—not unexpected. It still makes his heart clench. He ignores it, instead offering, 

“Jason… I’m sorry, for what I said, earlier. It— It wasn’t true. I meant it when I said I can live with you killing. I don’t—I don’t… The truth is, I don’t disagree with your methods. I’m tempted to join you, sometimes. A lot of times. I’m tempted to go even further, too. I… Sometimes I think the only thing that keeps me from going bad is Dick’s disappointment. Bruce’s, too, but. I don’t care what he thinks as much anymore.

“Some days the temptation is stronger than others, though. And that— It scares me. I cling tighter to the rules in response. I… It’s not an excuse for me to hurt you, though. I’m sorry. I love you. Come home whenever you’re ready.” He’s crying when he finishes, hanging up the phone. Thinks about staying in the basement; distracting himself with cold cases instead of going to bed.

He decides he’s disappointed Jason enough.

Jason comes home that night. Slips into their bed, gathering Tim in his arms. 

“You could never go bad,” he whispers. “You’re too fucking good, Tim.”

Tim shakes his head, burying his face in Jason’s neck. “If I convinced myself it was right, or for a good cause…” He holds him tighter.

Jason is quiet. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Tim doesn’t even hesitate.

“Then trust that I wouldn’t let you.”

Tim knows Jason has broken his own moral code more than once.

He also knows that Jason is far more careful with the people he loves than he is himself.

It’s a trait they share.

So he nods. “Okay.” 

“And you’ll do the same for me,” he says, softly—almost tentatively.

Tim holds him tighter. “Yes.”

He’s quiet for so long Tim thinks he falls asleep. Then, he offers, quietly, “Sometimes I think I’ll go too far, and— You’ll leave. Or that you’ll wake up one day, and realize I’m not going to change, that… That you can’t handle the killing after all. I don’t… I don’t want to lose you.” He doesn’t say, I thought I was losing you tonight, but Tim hears it anyway.

He kisses Jason’s neck. “You won’t,” he says, confidently. “But— If you ever do, or if it looks like you’re going to— I promise I’ll tell you. Warn you. I won’t just disappear without giving you a chance.”

Jason shudders in his arms. He tucks his face in Tim’s hair—Tim cups the back of his neck in response. “Feels like all you’ve given me a hundred second chances,” he whispers.

Tim nuzzles him. “I’ll give you a hundred more. You’re worth it.”

~

Jason starts making his own confessions, after that.

He lights a candle on the coffee table, filling the air with the scent of sandalwood. Then he stops. Turns his lighter over in his hand—flicks it on, then off again.

“I didn’t stop smoking because of how I died, or the Pit, or Talia, or for my health, or—any of the bullshit reasons I told everyone else. Sheila— Cigarettes remind me of her. The way she just sat there and watched.”

Tim stands, stepping into his space. He winds his arms around Jason’s waist. “You deserved better,” he says, quietly.

“We both did.”

‘We’ means Tim and Jason. It also means Sheila and Jason. Tim doesn’t know if he agrees with the latter—but. Whatever else she was, she was Jason’s mother, and that means something to Jason. So, he says nothing. Just presses a kiss to Jason’s shoulder.

~

After a rough patrol, another argument between Jason and Bruce—one that took both Nightwing and Red Robin to break up—Jason sits in the medbay of Tim’s nest, letting him stitch up his arm.

Tim is almost done, when Jason says, “I’ve given up on Bruce killing the Joker for me. I wish he’d let me do it. More than that—I just. I want him to tell me, to my face, that he missed me. That he loved me. That the loss of me was something painful. That—That he still loves me. I don’t. I don’t want to hear it from someone else. But I know— I know he won’t. The man who would have died with me, and sometimes I think that’s the worst of it all.”

Tim snips the thread, laying the needle down. He kisses the skin just above the wound, and lingers there. “I’m sorry.”

Jason is quiet. Then he turns, pressing his nose into Tim’s hair. He doubts it smells great—he hasn’t had time to hit the showers yet—but Jason doesn’t seem to care. “Me too,” he whispers.

~

Tim gets a box of cologne samples in the mail. He’s going through them, just for fun—handing the ones he likes best to Jason. As he passes over the third, Jason says,

“I don’t remember what Mom’s voice sounded like anymore—but. I found the perfume she loved. It was one of the most expensive things we owned. She only got it out for special occasions, or—or when she was sad, and needed something to help remind her of the good times. I— When I smell it, I can almost hear her again. Singing in the kitchen, or… Reading with me on the couch.”

Tim puts the cologne samples down. He tucks himself against Jason’s side and holds him tight. The vulnerability in Jason’s voice, in his expression… It scares Tim almost as much as it awes him. He just— He wants to protect him, to hold the softest parts of Jason close, where nothing and no one can hurt him again.

It’s an impossible wish, but. That won’t stop him from trying.

“Tell me about her?” he asks softly, laying his cheek over Jason’s heart. The steady beat is calming.

Hesitatingly—haltingly—

Jason does.

~

It keeps going. Back and forth.

“Sometimes I think no one actually wants me around—that people are happier when I’m not there.” 

“I think I left a piece of myself in the grave. It hurts less that it’s missing these days, but. It still hurts.”

“I never felt like I was alive until I became Robin. That’s part of why losing it hurt so much.”

“Sometimes Bruce and Dick will mention things—and I don’t remember them. They sound like happy memories, but, when I go poking around, all I can find are blank spaces. It’s fucking terrifying.”

“In the early days—sometimes Bruce would forget, and call me by your name. I… It feels awful to admit, but. Those nights were my favorite.”

“I hate looking in the mirror. For—for a million fucking reasons, but one of ‘em is how much I look like my dad. Like Willis. He wasn’t a bad man, except when he drank. He just… he drank a lot. I don’t want to be him.”

Secrets traded, back and forth. A lot of them big, some of them small. Always in the quietest moments, in the carefullest tones. Each one met with acceptance, with love.

Tim feels freer than he ever has. Not even swinging between buildings leaves his step so light.

He thinks Jason feels the same; thinks he smiles more, now. Tim has caught him humming in the kitchen more than once—finds himself humming the same tune.

Tim has never needed reciprocation to love someone.

Jason has given it to him anyway.

~

Ivy’s not done with truth pollen—determined to perfect this strain. This time, Tim is on the other side of the city when Jason catches a face full. He doesn’t miss a beat; working with Spoiler to wrangle her back to Arkham. As soon as it’s handled, he beelines back to the Nest.

Tim meets him there.

Jason doesn’t lock himself in an isolation cell, this time. He works with Tim to distill the antidote. Tim isn’t foolish enough to believe that all of the secrets Jason has buried in the recesses of his mind have come to light. He knows his haven’t. He knows, too, that for both of them, there are some which never will. That's okay. Jason has shared enough that the pollen’s compulsion has little to cling to; little to nourish its roots.

So this time—he doesn’t talk as much, this time; only the occasional confession spilling from his lips.

Most of them make Tim blush.

It’s a torturous hour—albeit for entirely different reasons than last time—and it ends not with a shared cup of tea but Tim pinned to the wall in the Nest shower, Jason on his knees, worshiping him until stars burst behind his eyes.

Tim turns the tables on him as soon as he remembers which way is up—and then they stumble upstairs, to bed, curling into one another like two mis-matched halves.

Jason tangles their fingers together. “Tell me a secret,” he whispers, to the darkness of the room.

Tim does.

[hannahbarberra162]

Under the Microscope, Part 6 (Yandere Sabo X Reader)

on Ao3

18+ MDNI

All the other chapters

You spend your first few days on the island. It's like a vacation, right?

Your POV

“Naturally there’s only one bed,” Sabo said as if you were being silly, “this was my room, how many did you think I would have?” He kept a firm grip on your arm as you tried pulling it away. “It gets very cold on the island at night and we don’t have any heating. We’ll share a bed again, like we did on the boat,” Sabo explained. The room was much like the house, it had belongings in it but bare white walls and no rugs on the wood floor. It had a large bay window, a small bookcase filled with books, a closet, a few wooden chests, and a bed big enough for two. You’d investigate the books later, you were tired.

“I don’t think - can’t I sleep on the couch? Or the floor?” you asked. 

“No,” Sabo replied firmly. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Sabo wasn’t asking you, he was telling you. It reminded you of when he informed you he’d be taking you to the Revolutionary Army.  “It will be like before. I’ll keep my clothes on and stay over the blankets, I don’t get cold.” You were uncomfortable with the idea, but what choice did you have?

“Ok,” you replied quietly. “I don’t, um, have another set of clothes, can I -” 

Sabo smiled again, back to his happy mood. He released your arm and put his hat down on top of the bookshelf.

“I told you, you can wear anything I have. Anything that is mine, is yours. The closet has various garments hanging, feel free to look.” You padded over to the closet, not commenting on the wedding vow-like statement Sabo had made. Looking through the clothes, you were a little disappointed. There were a few boxes up top filled with men’s summer clothes and a cowboy hat, but there were mostly Sabo’s shirts and slacks made of cotton. There wasn’t anything substantial like sweaters or thermal garments. It made sense, Sabo didn’t get cold, like he said. You did find some longer socks, which you took, along with a long sleeved shirt from the closet. 

“I’m gonna, um, change. Can you….” you trailed off, hoping Sabo got the hint, like he had on the boat.

“Of course, I’ll do the same. Be back in a minute.” Sabo took some clothes for himself and left the room. You hurried and changed, pulling the socks up as far as they would go. Since Sabo was taller than you they went past your knees, but were warm and comfy. Before putting on Sabo’s shirt you took off your filthy underwear and bra. You hand washed them a few times on the boat but they were still beyond gross. You wavered, you didn’t want to sleep nude under Sabo’s shirt but you really couldn’t bear to wear them another time. You sighed and buried them deep in the closet, you’d wash them again tomorrow. It would be mortifying to ask Sabo for underwear, but you’d have to do it eventually. 

You crawled into the bed, laying down under the covers. Your eyelids were heavy, you wanted to sleep even though it wasn’t late in the night. The bed was firm with a handmade quilt on it. It was a Jolly Roger of some crew, but you weren’t sure whose it was. Laying your head on the pillows, you squirmed around until you were comfortable. Sabo re-entered the room wearing more casual clothes than you’d ever seen him in but still with leather gloves on. You scooted over, giving him plenty of room on the bed. He laid down next to you, wavy blond hair strewn over his pillow. He was close to you, but wasn’t touching you. Like he said, the room was getting colder now that it was night. Maybe you’d cuddle up to him in the night, but you were OK for now.

“I feel like you’re drugging me,” you said sluggishly, hand under your cheek, face turned towards Sabo. 

Sabo laughed lightly. “What makes you say that?” He tugged the quilt higher up so it was covering your shoulders.

“I’m so tired all the time, I feel like all I do is sleep,” you said, yawning. 

“You’ve been chronically exhausted. How much were you sleeping before we met?”

Your eyes shut of their own accord. “Not much, maybe a couple hours a night. Couldn’t sleep more than that.” 

“It’s your body catching up. I’m sure you’ll adjust soon,” Sabo said quietly. You hummed, already drifting off to sleep. You thought you felt Sabo kissed the top of your head, but you were already one foot in Dreamland.

Sabo POV

Sabo watched you sleeping, as he had the previous nights. He wasn’t going to sleep yet, but he wanted to send you off to rest at your side. You were already scooting closer to him to get warm, but you’d be alright for now. Sabo hadn’t mentioned that the warmer clothes were in the chest by the foot of the bed. He wanted you to be cold, to seek his warmth in the night, like you had the past few nights. He’d let you know before he left for the RA headquarters, he didn’t want you to be cold in his absence and seek out someone else, even if it was only Ace. 

He wasn’t going to do anything, but Sabo was curious about your outfit for the night. He let his hand wander down under the blanket for a moment before he simply had to see if what he felt was correct. He gently peeled the blanket back, scooting closer at the same time. Sabo felt his cock pushing against his pants as he ran a hand slowly up your leg, beginning at your ankle. You were wearing his socks but because you were shorter they looked more like thigh-highs.  It was so sultry and sexy to see you like that, Sabo wanted to peel them off of you with his teeth. He wanted  to fuck you with your feet on his shoulders while you wore those socks and nothing else. He wanted to be smothered by your clothed thighs as he ate you like a fine meal, your fingers gripping his hair. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hand higher and higher to touch your thighs where the socks cut off. He made a mental note not to buy you any socks in your size, he thought his looked great on you.

As he ran a finger up your leg towards your hip, he made another fascinating discovery. You weren’t wearing any panties. Sabo knew you didn’t mean to provoke him, otherwise you would have indicated it somehow. He didn’t want to spoil his own fun, so he didn’t take a good look at your nudity. Sabo wanted you to show him your luscious body, not take furtive glances in the dark like a thief. Sabo reluctantly pulled the blankets back over you, but you rewarded him by rolling towards him. He was able to keep a hand on your leg, delicately touching you while you slept. You sighed happily in your sleep, the first time Sabo had heard such a sound coming from you. 

Sabo also noticed that you didn’t correct him when he mentioned your sleep schedule when you “met.” Normally you were so quick to say that he’d kidnapped you, but you’d let it slide for the first time. He wanted to gently acclimate you to your new life, and it seemed like you were adjusting rather well for your first week. Sabo silently slid out of bed, pressing another kiss to your head. It was too early for him to go to sleep and he had to deal with this massive erection you’d given him. 

Grabbing a towel, Sabo silently left the room and shut the door, leaving you to sleep. Going to the shower, Sabo turned the water on as cold as it would go. He didn’t love being in water as a Devil Fruit user, but some sacrifices needed to be made. Under the cold streams of water, Sabo tried to will his visions of you in those socks to go away but it was no use. Sighing, he changed the water to hot, and started slowly stroking his cock. He’d done this daily since he met you, one more time wasn’t going to make a difference. 

Grabbing the base of his thick cock with one hand, he slowly started pumping himself into his fist. In his imagination, you were spread out beneath him, mewling for him, calling his name. He imagined fucking you slow and deep, hitting your sweetest spot with his cock just so. He sped up his movements, imagining your tits bouncing as he fucked you faster, biting into your shoulder and marking you. You’d come undone before him, moaning his name over and over like a prayer on your lips. As Sabo imagined you coming, he came in his hand, almost moaning your name. Panting, he took a moment to collect himself and turned off the shower. Wrapping himself in his towel, he quickly brushed his hair and put on his clean clothes. 

Exiting the bathroom and going downstairs, Sabo saw an unamused Ace waiting for him in the living room, perched on the back of the sofa. Sabo sighed, the conversation was going to happen sooner or later. Ace wanted it sooner.

“Sabo, what the fuck?” Ace began. He wasn’t yelling, which was a good start. Sabo wasn’t going to let him disturb your sleep, but it would be easier to talk to him if he didn’t start getting angry immediately.

“Well, I couldn’t leave her -” Sabo began, but Ace interrupted immediately.

“I know the RA didn’t order you to bring her here, so I’m asking again, what the fuck?” Ok, Ace was mad. He actually thought through why you’d brought Sunny here.

“You’ll like her! She’s smart, she’s kind -”

“She’s pretty too, eh Sabo?” Ace crossed his arms.

“I mean, yeah, but that’s not why I -”

“Cut the shit Sabo, what’s going on?”

Sabo sighed, he was going to have to level with Ace at least a little bit. He’d never been able to conceal the entire truth from his brother, Ace knew him too well.

“I brought her from that Marine base, she was the target of my last mission. She’s a brilliant scientist, I want her to continue researching some of her prior assignments. And I didn’t want to bring her to the RA, I thought it would be overwhelming for her. She’s…tightly wound, anxious. They weren’t treating her right, they were hurting her.”

“And…? -” Ace prompted. He wasn’t going to drop it until Sabo confirmed what he wanted to hear.

“OK, fine. Yes, I like her.” Sabo was annoyed, he didn’t want to talk about his feelings for you, even with Ace. Ace grunted. 

“But that’s not why I brought her here,” Sabo protested. “I’m going to have to go back to the Headquarters soon and I want you to watch over her. You can’t stay by yourself on the island forever. You need to -”

“Don’t tell me what I need to do, Sabo,” Ace bit out. Sabo rolled his eyes. He’d been trying to get Ace off the island for a long time, but Ace wouldn’t leave. Every time Sabo left for a mission or for the headquarters, he offered Ace a spot on whatever ship Sabo was taking but Ace declined every time. He always said that he needed more time to heal, but Sabo thought he was scared. Scared to see his old crew, his old friends, to see Luffy, to face the judgment of people he knew. Not that he would say all that to Ace, that was a sure way to get a week of silent treatment. Sabo didn’t want to force him off the island either, that would be counterproductive. 

“Well, she’s staying here for now. Give her a chance. She’s got a fun Devil Fruit -” Ace’s face soured as Sabo mentioned Devil Fruits, but Sabo persisted “and I don’t think she even knows who you are.” Ace’s eyebrows went up nearly to his hairline.

“How? Everyone in the world knows -”

“Ask her yourself. She didn’t react when you introduced yourself, it wasn’t an act. She’s been isolated in her lab for years. The Marines were working her to the bone, you should have seen her when I met her.” Ace huffed. Sabo was pleased you didn’t know who Ace was, it would be easier for you to talk to each other if you didn’t come in with any preconceived notions. He knew you and Ace would get along well, you two just needed to sniff around each other a little. 

“What’s her Devil Fruit? Anything good?” Sabo hummed to Ace’s question. Ace was already a little interested, he could tell.

“Not for combat, but it’s fun. She can magnify things -”

“ -like make food bigger?” Sabo rolled his eyes. Of course Ace’s mind would go straight to food.

“No, as far as I can tell she can just magnify the images of things, but it’s still useful. I’m sure she’d show you if you asked.” Ace thought for a moment.

“Final question: why aren’t you calling her by her real name?” 

Sabo bristled at the question. “She hasn’t told me yet, just her nickname. She’ll tell me when she wants to.” Sabo did know your real name but he didn’t want to freak you out. He knew a lot about you, actually. But he’d only use the information if he needed to.

Ace jumped off the couch gracefully. “Whatever, Sabo. I know you’re hiding something. But for now I don’t care. I can babysit her while you’re gone but don’t expect us to become friends.” Ace walked out of the house into the cool night. Sabo rolled his eyes but smiled a little as he went to his office to work on some reports. Things would work out just fine. 

Your POV

You woke in the early morning, finding yourself curled into Sabo’s side. He had his arm looped over your middle, spooning you from behind. Turning onto your back, you saw he was still asleep. You were cozy and enjoyed the sensation of being near someone, even if it was your kidnapper. True to his word, he was wearing clothing and was over the blanket, which was a small source of comfort. You looked him over in the morning light. His features were relaxed in sleep, his wavy hair splayed out giving him an angelic look. You hadn’t really gotten a close look at his scar before, even when you were in his jail cell with him. It covered most of the left side of his face and looked like it dipped below the collar of his shirt. You felt the impulse to trace it with your fingers but didn’t want to wake him. 

You tried to slowly move Sabo’s arm off of you, but as soon as his arm wasn’t making contact with your body, he brought it back down and pulled you closer to him. Any attempts to free yourself just made him hold you tighter. There wasn’t any way you were getting out of bed without Sabo letting go of you. Sabo was strong, but you didn’t think he would be that strong in his sleep.

“Sabo,” you whispered, trying to wake him gently, “Sabo, let me go.” Sabo stirred a little but his iron grip didn’t budge. “Sabo,” you whispered, this time shaking him gently, “lemme go.” You squeaked as a sleepy Sabo rolled and pulled you under him.

“No,” Sabo grunted as he fell back to sleep on top of you, his face buried in your neck. Your face heated as you felt the combination of his hot breath on your face and his morning erection pressing against you. You knew it was a natural occurrence, he wasn’t even awake, so you wouldn’t mention it to him. 

“Sabo,” you said, louder this time, “Sabo, you’re squishing me, get off.” You repeated yourself even louder and shook him and he finally woke up.

“Hi,” Sabo said huskily, grinning down at you with closed eyes, face still soft and sleepy. Ugh, why was he so goddamn attractive?

“Hi. You’re crushing me,” you replied, trying to push him off you. Sabo opened his eyes and took stock of the situation. You realized his milky eye didn’t track anything - you had suspected but now you knew he couldn’t see out of it at all. 

“Oh, sorry,” Sabo replied. He didn’t seem embarrassed or surprised in the least. He rolled off, laying on his back next to you. Stretching, Sabo let out a big yawn. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you, you can go back to sleep,” you said quietly. You figured he might want to go back to sleep, judging by the sun it was still very early in the morning. 

“No, it’s alright, I’m up. It’s good to start the day early, I should thank you. Are you always a morning person?” You thought about it for a moment.

“Well, this is the first time I haven’t gotten up to reverie in years, so I don’t really know. I never took any vacation days, I was always busy -”

“Working,” Sabo finished for you again. You were getting tired of him doing that. “Well, this could be like a vacation, you can rest and relax and have fun.” Vacation was not exactly how you thought of your time with Sabo. He hadn’t done anything bad to you, but it wasn’t a vacation to be taken against your will. You didn’t answer, just swung your legs over the side of the bed, pulling the long shirt lower so it covered more of your thighs. 

“What do you want to do on your first day off?” Sabo asked, still laying down, now with his arms behind his head. You turned your head to face him, fiddling with the quilt on the bed.

“Umm, I’m not sure. I don’t know what there is to do here,” you replied. You actually hadn’t had a day off in a long time. If you were at the base you would probably have worked anyway, but now there was nothing to do.

“I think you should spend some time outside. You have an unhealthy pallor to your skin. I mean, I know I’m pale, but you look like you’ve spent years locked away.” 

“I wasn’t locked away, but you’re probably right. I saw some interesting flowers, similar to some I’ve seen on Spring islands and I wanted to…” you trailed off, knowing Sabo wasn’t interested in your thoughts on flowers.

“Wanted to do what?” Sabo prompted. Your face heated again, it was a little embarrassing to talk about your nerdier hobbies.

“To um, press them. And look at them later. It’s a…hobby I used to do. I have, well, had a few books of flowers I pressed over the years.”

“What a wonderful way to spend the day! You do that, I’ll work, and we can meet back up at lunch time.” Sabo seemed happy you’d found a way to entertain yourself. You started to get up, but sat down quickly with a question.

“But wait, how will I know when it’s lunchtime? I don’t have a watch and what if I’m on the far side of the island? How will you let me know it's time to eat?” Sabo smiled at you and gently pulled your hair.

“I’ll use my observation haki, silly. Ace can too, we’ll always be able to find you here.” Sabo said so casually, but it sent a chill down your spine. They’d always be able to know where you were? The chances of you escaping from the island were down to zero. You’d have to wait until Sabo took you off the island, if he ever did. 

“Ah. Ok. Well, I’ll um, get dressed then. Make some breakfast maybe,” you said awkwardly. You went to the closet, took a pair of Sabo’s pants and a belt you found, and tried to discreetly dig for your dirty bra and panties. Wrapping it all in a bundle, you scurried out of the room to the bathroom to change.

As you expected, the pants were too big and you had to use the belt to keep them up. It had a red letter “A” emblazoned on the buckle, it was probably Ace’s. You’d ask him if you could use it when you next saw him, and hoped he said yes. Ambling down to the kitchen, you made one of the three meals you were good at making - quick buns with egg filling. It took a little bit of time for the dough to rise but they were worth it. By the time Sabo had come down the stairs, the buns were done steaming and you were finishing off the eggs to go inside. You’d made some coffee and were drinking it from a mug you’d found.

“Thank you for cooking! This looks amazing, I can’t wait to try it,” Sabo exclaimed, sitting down at the counter. You served him a plate, then grabbed your own.

“I think I made too many, I haven’t cooked in a while,” you lamented. Sabo grinned.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Ace’ll show up eventually. He’s never been one to leave food behind. Especially nothing as good as this.” You hummed and bit into your food. The two of you ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the early morning sun. When you were done, you cleaned your plate and went outside, purposefully not asking Sabo for permission. He said you could and you didn’t want to act like more of a captive than you were. 

You spent the morning enjoying strolling around the island. There was a surprising amount of ecology on the island. There was freshwater, like Sabo had said, but also some grassy areas and some more densely wooded areas. Vegetation abounded and you enjoyed looking at some of the unique specimens you hadn’t seen before. Once you were far away from the house, you tried zooming in on it, just to see what was happening inside. You spotted Sabo and tried zooming in further, to see what he was writing at his desk. As you watched him, he looked up and smiled, waving at you. It scared you and you dropped the magnification immediately. Evidently the observation haki worked both ways and he could tell when you were watching him. 

Dropping that idea, you spent your time in nature observing various organisms. You’d forgotten how much you enjoyed macrobiology since you spent so much time on the micro side of things. You were looking closely at an interesting leaf you found on the ground, when someone spoke behind you.

“Hey, it’s lunch -” Ace started, but you cut him off with a scream.

“Don’t scare me like that!” you panted, out of breath from your fright.

“Whaddya mean? I wasn’t being quiet or anything. I even called your name a couple times,” Ace said in disbelief.

“Well I didn’t hear you, geez,” you said, heart rate finally calming down, “sorry, let’s head back.” You and Ace walked near each other back to the house.

“You wearing my belt?” Ace asked, looking at your outfit after a few minutes of walking in silence.

“Oh, I’m sorry, yeah. Is that OK? I found it in Sabo’s closet and I needed -”

“S’fine. I’m not using it. What were you doing?” 

“Oh, um, looking at a leaf. It had an interesting serration pattern that I wasn’t expecting given the climate of the island.” Ace didn’t reply, but most people didn’t. It was no secret to you that the things you found interesting weren’t always interesting to others.

“With your Devil Fruit power?” Ace continued, almost sounding attentive.

“Yeah. Did Sabo tell you? I can um, magnify things.” 

“He mentioned it. What can you do with it?” Ah, the same question you always got. You tried not to be defensive, you didn’t think he meant anything by it.

“I use it a lot in research, like a supercharged magnifying glass. I also like to look at the stars, animals, plants, bugs -” Ace cut you off.

“You like bugs?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah, I wanted to become a botanist or an entomologist for a while when I was a kid. That’s a scientist who -” you started to explain, but Ace cut you off again. 

“I know what an entomologist is. Kind of a weird thing for a kid to want to be,” Ace said. You shrugged, you didn’t need to justify yourself to him. What was with these brothers and interrupting? Were they raised by wolves or something? If anything, you were feeling annoyed at yourself for sharing information without being asked. 

“But, then again, our other brother has always wanted to be King of the Pirates, so…not the wildest dream I’ve ever heard of.” Ace mentioned the third brother, you wondered who he was or if you’d meet him on the island. Only time would tell. The two of you reached the house with Sabo sitting on the porch, waiting with three dishes of stir fry at the ready.

“Did Ace catch you unaware?” Sabo asked when you got close enough. “I heard you scream.” You blushed, you didn’t think it was that loud. 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t his fault, I wasn’t paying attention.” You sat down on the chair nearest Sabo and started to eat. Like the previous night, the food was excellent. You sat between the two brothers, eating and staring at the ocean, enjoying the quiet calm. 

After that, things fell into a pattern for the next few days. Sabo gave you a notebook and a pencil, and you spent your days outside observing and noting the flora and fauna of the island. Someone would come and get you for meals, and you’d go to the house to eat. Sometimes you’d read on the couch in the afternoons and take a short nap or go walk along the rocky shore of the island. It was quite relaxing, you actually felt energized and recharged. Shortly after dinner every night you’d be too tired to stay awake any longer and have to go to sleep. Sabo always went to bed with you and you always woke up to the two of you spooning. 

Sabo’s  POV

Sabo watched silently from afar as you delicately touched a crimson flower petal with a slightly shaking finger, like it was spun from glass. You were crouching low to the grassy ground, inspecting the island’s blaze flowers. They were gorgeous when in bloom, their petals a gradient that went from deep red to orange, mimicking the fire from which they got their name. The flowers didn’t have any practical use besides their beauty, but when Sabo had seen them blooming on the island during his initial inspection, he had taken it as a sign that he and Ace were meant to live there. 

Sabo didn’t have to try very hard to hide himself from you, you remained as oblivious as ever, which worked to his advantage. He watched over you constantly to ensure that your transition to living on the island was as smooth as it could be. He watched you wander around the island, either in person if he had time, or checking in on you with his haki. Sabo wanted to spend every moment with you, given that he’d be leaving in a few days, but he knew that wouldn’t help you adjust any faster. You were like a little kitten, you needed to explore your new environment on your own - with a little guidance here and there. He sought you out every few hours, usually to let you know that meals were ready or that he’d made you tea back at the house.

Every time he found you, you were magnifying something, or making little notes in the journal he’d given you, or gathering wildflowers to press later. Sabo could practically feel the tension lea vin g your body as you were allowed to exist without deadlines and stress after being overworked for god knows how many years. It still made his blood boil to think of the way you’d been treated at the hands of the Marines but Sabo would bide his time until he left the island. For now, he wanted you to forget that you were brought here and just relax while he was still able to care for you in person.

Sabo was a little nervous to leave you with Ace, especially since you’d just gotten to the island. Ace would come around, Sabo wasn’t worried about that. Ace’s loneliness and curiosity would trump his moodiness, it wouldn’t take long. If Sabo had his wishes, he would have stayed here with you for at least a month, showing you what life would be like when you accepted your place at his side. But unfortunately, being the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army meant that his presence was needed in person, not just over the den den. He had a few smaller missions he needed to complete, and he was hoping to be done with all of that and back to the island in a few weeks. 

Sabo knew he would miss sleeping next to you in bed, it was practically one of his favorite parts of the day. You still drank the water he gave you, making you conk out by 9 PM every night. He would miss a lot of the physical touches he fostered between the two of you, taking every opportunity he could find to touch you. You were still unsure and shy, and didn’t always pick up on it when Sabo flirted with you. He found it endearing, how reserved and inexperienced you were. It made Sabo wonder if he’d be your first (and last) lover, or if you had some kind of romantic fling before. 

Intentionally pushing your boundaries, Sabo would stand too close to you when you were showing him a particular bud, or guide you back to the house with his hand on the small of your back. He would ask you about the stars at night before you got too tired, sitting behind you on the rocky beach so that your back touched his chest. You always flushed at his antics, but never said no or moved away. In fact, during colder evenings spent under the stars, Sabo found you leaning towards him for heat, much like you did in the night. He saw your glances you tried to hide, watching him as he cooked in the kitchen or as he worked in his office. Every day you came closer to Sabo’s goal of getting you to trust him, to want to be with him the way he wanted to be with you.

Walking up to your still crouching form, Sabo tried to make as much noise as he could so as not to startle you. He kicked rocks, he was humming, he even snapped a few sticks under his feet to generate noise. Once close enough, Sabo put his hand on your shoulder in greeting. You jumped, surprised to see him, and accidentally dropped the flower you’d been holding. 

“S-Sabo! Sorry, I didn’t see you, I was um, looking at this flower,” you said while retrieving the blossom from the dirt below. Sabo truly enjoyed your observations and thoughts about the vegetation and insects on the island. He found that you had a wealth of knowledge about almost all facets of science, and were always interested in learning more. He was sure that once he was gone, you’d pilfer his meager library in search of more information. 

“Mmh, the blaze flower. Lovely, isn’t it?” Sabo picked another beside you, twirling the stem between his fingers. 

“It is, I’ve never seen another like it. I wonder what geological and meteorological attributes of the island make it blossom so early in t he season,” you replied thoughtfully, still touching the petals. Sabo took his flower and gently tucked it behind your ear. As always, your face flamed and you averted your gaze from him, but you didn’t remove the flower he’d given you. Sabo stood up, and giving you his hand, helped you to your feet as well.

“Lunch is ready, let’s eat before Ace does. Otherwise, all we’ll have left are these flowers for food,” Sabo joked, trying to lighten the tension. You laughed lightly, having seen Ace’s appetite in action. Sabo put your hand on his forearm, like a gentleman, walking together back to the house with arms linked. You didn’t flinch or pull away, instead allowing him to rub small circles into your soft skin with his gloved thumb. One day at a time , thought Sabo, one day at a time.  

Your POV

Life was easy on the island, you actually had been enjoying your captivity thus far, if you were being honest with yourself. You were still nervous around Sabo and his brother but you were enjoying your time on the island when you were out exploring. Sometimes Sabo would come find you and ask you about whatever you were looking at. You knew he was scientifically oriented, so you shared your findings with him. They weren’t particularly academic, but seeing a beautiful flower or fascinating beetle held your interest and seemed to hold Sabo’s as well.

As before, you enjoyed talking with Sabo, even under the new circumstances. He was always polite and sweet and tried his best to make you feel comfortable. You had to constantly remind yourself that he had ulterior motives, that he just wanted you to work for the Revolutionary Army and this was all just a part of a plan. You knew he was touching you a lot, but you knew better than to think it was all genuine . But you found yourself wanting to lean back into his body more during your stargazing, or to grab his hand as the two of you walked together, or to sit closer to him on the porch steps so your legs touched. You didn’t do those things, but the longing increased day over day. It made you feel a little pathetic, enjoying the attention and affections of someone who was only pretending, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

On the sixth morning, as you finished your eggs in a bun, Sabo and Ace perked up their heads simultaneously. It was eerie, like they both sensed something at the same time. You hadn’t felt anything, it unnerved you. 

“Ship’s here,” Ace grunted, already back to eating. Sabo’s eyes flicked to you.

“We’re going somewhere?” you asked, confused. Maybe this would be a chance for you to escape after you made it to the next destination. 

“Ah, no. I’m leaving. You’re staying here with Ace,” Sabo replied, putting his hand over yours as if to comfort you. 

“You’re leaving me here?” you asked quietly, your hopes suddenly dashed. 

“Not forever, I just need to leave for a bit. It will only be a few weeks, then I’ll be back. You won’t be alone, Ace will be here too. He’ll keep you company.” Ace grunted again. You’d had a few conversations with Ace, but not many. He wasn’t unfriendly or mean, but he was reserved and distant. “Ace will be nice ,” Sabo hissed, looking pointedly at Ace, “and I’ll be here again before you know it. Do you want me to bring anything back for you?”

You were stressing out at the sudden information. Your free hand was shaking, but the one under Sabo’s was kept still by his own. Sabo rubbed his thumb in circles over the top of your hand, watching you carefully. You didn’t like that he was leaving you here, in the middle of nowhere, with someone you didn't know, for an undetermined time, for unknown reasons, to go somewhere secret, what if Sabo died and no one ever found you again, what if Ace got mad at you and killed you, what if there was a tsunami and the island flooded, what if you starved to death on the island…your thoughts were flooded with bad potential outcomes and crises. 

“Maybe some books?” Sabo prompted, bringing you back to his original question.

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Can you get books about the flowers and plants for the island? Especially if there's one about the fruit trees in this area of the Grand Line, there's some really interesting varieties." You’d wanted to learn more than just your casual observations had been offering. You'd never spent time on an autumn island before and you found it fascinating.

“Of course, anything else? Anything you need?” Sabo was still stroking your hand gently. You flushed, thinking of the other items you wanted.

“I..um…need…clothes. All the clothes a woman would need.” You tried to get around saying the actual items, it was too embarrassing. 

“My clothes seem to work well for you for the most part. Is there anything specific you need? Skirts? Dresses?” You had a feeling Sabo knew what you were asking for, he just wanted you to say it.

“No, um, I mean a skirt would be nice, but um, I really need, ah, underwear. And a bra.” You weren’t sure your bra would make it the entire time Sabo was gone, but you weren’t going to go around braless. Sabo smiled, patting your hand.

“Ah, of course. Not to worry, I’ll have Koala buy some. She reports to me, she was on the ship with us. I don’t think I introduced you,” Sabo mused. You remembered him talking to a woman about your murder, perhaps that was Koala. “But you were so sick, remember? Another reason I don’t want you coming for such a short trip.” You nodded, not really processing what Sabo was saying.

“Ace can get a hold of me, call me if you miss me,” Sabo said brightly.

“You’re leaving now?” you asked. Things were moving too quickly, you didn’t have time to adjust to the sudden changes.

“Sorry, the Revolution waits for no one. Stay in the house until Ace tells you the boat is gone. It’s safe but I don’t want anyone to see you.” Sabo stood up and walked over to stand next to Ace, ruffling his long hair.

“Bye, brother. Call me for anything.” Ace barely acknowledged Sabo’s farewell, just gave him a side hug while continuing to eat. Sabo put his top hat on his head, strapped his pipe to his back, and grabbed his coat off the hook on the wall. 

“One last thing,” Sabo said, coming close to you. He leaned down and cradled your face in his hands. Pulling you forward, he kissed you softly on the lips. You were shocked, you didn’t resist or react. Sabo took that as encouragement, kissing you again more deeply while keeping your head in his hands. He pulled back, gave you a small smile, and let go of you.

“Bye, love. See you soon,” he said, tipping his hat with a grin.