All My Life
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
Sabo x F! Reader
Summary: Reader has been a Revolutionary since birth. But her first mission went terribly wrong, leaving her friend Sabo terribly scarred. They've stuck together since the day he lost his memory--but she remembers everything. So when news hits the papers, and Sabo falls ill, Reader has to grapple with the outcomes and consequences of her first and longest-running mission. Has she succeeded or failed? What happens when her former-amnesiac Sabo finally remembers her?
Warnings/Tropes: Slight Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Trauma, Medium Angst & Mild Cursing. Revolutionary!Reader, Besotted!Sabo, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Amnesia, Light Angst & Mild Cursing.
Original Request;
Hi again. Requests on Sabo at your service 😂 I love it too much 😍 anyway. I'm still here because the first request was great! You write very well. I put you if you allow me in the favorite writers that I discovered on this site! ♥ and also if ever another idea comes to me, let me come back to let you know *bows*
Good ! we're going to go to my dear and adorable Sabo.... I don't know if you write nfsw? Let me know if it's yes or no (so I can see what kind of request I'll send you)
So, reader will be in the revolutionary army before Sabo, she meets him at her mission in fuschia. Then after his accident, she helps him to overcome this ordeal and years later, Sabo discovers that he loves her but how to tell her given how much he is not comfortable with himself and says to himself he doesn't deserve happiness
I don't know if it's angst or not, but it's too hard to be soft... Especially the last sentence. Sabo-chan, you deserve all the stars in the universe, don't think like that 🤧 a happy ending at the end where I (reader) comfort him. I trust you to bring sabo's insecurities to the fore and how reader comforts him
***
He didn’t remember screaming. Not really.
He remembered the darkness, though. The way it sank into his ribs and sucked all the air from his lungs. He remembered collapsing. Something sharp cracking beneath his knees. Someone—Koala, maybe—calling his name. The press of hands trying to steady him. The sting of bile in his throat. The burn in his chest that wasn’t fire but something worse.
And then, nothing.
When he opened his eyes again, he was somewhere quiet. Somewhere warm.
Dim candlelight flickered across the stone walls of the infirmary. Familiar. The kind of place he should’ve hated by now. The kind of place where pain got catalogued and patched up and sent back into battle. But this time, no one rushed him. No one poked or prodded or asked too many questions.
Only one person was there.
Y/N.
She sat beside his cot like a statue carved out of tension and salt. Her boots were scuffed from the knees up with dried mud. A half-healed gash on her cheek. Fingers knotted in her lap so tightly, the knuckles shone white. But her eyes—when they met his—he saw they’d been crying.
Sabo shifted, trying to sit up, only for a bolt of nausea to punch through his gut.
She was at his side in a flash. “Hey—hey, easy, you’re okay. Just breathe.”
Her hand pressed against his chest. Not to pin him down, just to ground him. Anchor him.
“I’m here,” she said softly. “You’re not alone.”
Something cracked in him then. A splintering deeper than bone. He didn’t even realize he’d grabbed her wrist until his fingers started to shake.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” His voice was hoarse. Strangled.
Y/N blinked, lashes fluttering like she’d been struck. “I wanted to. I tried.”
“Ace,” he rasped. “Luffy. I forgot them. I forgot everything—and I’m supposed to live with that? Like it’s okay?”
He felt like he was drowning again, but this time there was no ocean, no fire—just memory. Smoke and ash and screaming. A little boy with freckles. A kid with a straw hat and stars in his eyes. A girl with knives in her hands and the whole world balanced on her shoulders.
“I didn’t just forget them,” he whispered. “I left them. I let them die.”
“No,” she said firmly. Too fast.
“You don’t understand—”
“I do,” she snapped. Her voice broke on the edges like brittle glass. “You think I didn’t try to stop it? I begged Dragon. I fought. I disobeyed orders and risked everything and it still wasn’t enough.”
Her breath hitched. She stood suddenly, pacing the narrow room like a storm in boots and bloodstained sleeves.
“I saw the paper, Sabo. I saw Ace’s face in the headline. I heard your scream. And I knew—knew you remembered. And all I could think was… God, please don’t break. Not now. Not him.”
Sabo stared at her. At the tear tracks on her face, fresh and raw. At the way her hands clenched like she was trying to hold herself together by force alone.
He whispered, “I don’t deserve this.”
Y/N turned to him slowly.
“This,” she echoed. “What is this?”
“You. This life. Any of it.” He looked away. His hand twitched toward the left side of his face, stopped, hovered. “Ace is gone. Luffy could’ve died. And I’m still here. Scarred and stupid and—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted, fierce and quiet. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that.”
“I’m not—Y/N, I’m not the boy you used to know.”
“I know,” she said. “I watched you burn, Sabo. I dove into the sea to drag you back. I was there when you couldn’t remember your name. And I never left.”
She stepped closer, kneeling beside the cot again. Her hands reached out, this time not to anchor him, but to touch. Her fingers curled around his own, gentle but sure.
“You didn’t leave them,” she said. “You were taken. And Ace… He wouldn’t want you to waste what he died to protect.”
Sabo’s throat tightened.
Her hand rose, brushing his temple, just shy of the jagged web of scar tissue that glowed pale in the low light.
“I miss him too,” she whispered. “But I’m still here. So are you.”
The silence stretched long. Steady. Not empty, but full—of breath and heartbeat and everything unspoken.
He looked at her, truly looked, and thought: She’s always been there.
And suddenly the words were there, teetering on the edge of his tongue.
“I love you.”
It was small. Quiet. Almost lost in the hush of the room. But he meant it with every cracked rib and burned nerve and memory that still hurt to hold.
Y/N blinked.
Then she smiled. That smile. Dandelion-sunshine-supernova, all in one. And she leaned forward until her forehead pressed softly to his. Her voice was barely a breath.
“I love you too, Sabo.”
He closed his eyes. Let the warmth settle into his bones.
Later, they’d talk more. Share stories. Bury the guilt between them like seeds in the dirt—things to be grown from, not haunted by.
But for now, they sat in that quiet place. Hand in hand. Forehead to forehead. Hearts still aching, still healing.
And for the first time in a long time, Sabo let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—he was allowed to be happy.
That maybe, just maybe… he deserved it.
***
Ahhh! This got way out of hand. I am so sorry, my dear @sab0ace !—Please forgive my tardiness. I hope, after all this time you have found this story well worth the wait.
All the best,
Rose