hi bae!! could you (pretty please) write me one where sanji and fem! strawhat! reader have something really domestic, like taking care of each other after nightmares and such, until reader confesses and Sanji (who very much loves reader) says he don't feel the same because he's scared of someone actually caring for him?
maybe after a while Sanji see's reader close to someone else and crash out thinking reader lied about loving him but he's just being jealous and scared and we have a pretty happy ending to mend my little heart?
no need to have everything i listed, just listing the general vibe, feel free to include or exclude whatever you feel like
âśâ.Ë A/n: i really hoped you liked this! ngl i kinda dragged it out a little but it was a lot of fun writing this! byebye.
âËĘ á˘âËâ§ ďž.
The Grand Line was a capricious beast, its moods shifting like the tides, but aboard the Thousand Sunny, a different kind of constant hummedâthe quiet, steady rhythm of family. And at the heart of that rhythm, in many ways, was you, Y/N.
You were the Straw Hats' anchor, their soft landing, the one who always had a kind word or a gentle touch. You'd often find yourself leaned against Zoro's side during his naps, a comfortable silence stretching between you as the ship swayed. Nami would frequently seek you out on deck, sharing her latest mapping ideas or simply enjoying the sunset together, a rare vulnerability in her usually guarded demeanor. Usopp would spin his wildest tales to you, knowing you'd listen with genuine fascination, your laughter always his favorite reward. Even the usually reserved Robin would sometimes share a quiet moment, a knowing glance passing between you that spoke volumes. And then there was Chopper, whoâd often be found nestled in your lap, his tiny hooves gently kneading your clothes as you stroked his fur. You loved them all, each in their own unique way, a vital thread in the vibrant tapestry of the Straw Hat Pirates.
But with Sanji? That was a different story entirely. From the moment youâd stepped aboard, there had been an undeniable pull, a current that drew you both together. You loved everything about him: the way his perpetually swirly eyebrow twitched when he was deep in thought, the passionate fire in his eyes when he spoke of food, the almost theatrical flourish with which he presented even the simplest dish, the surprising gentleness of his hands when they weren't busy flipping ingredients or fighting, the way he'd fuss over everyone's meals, making sure each bite was perfect. You loved his chivalry, even when it was over the top, and the unexpected moments of seriousness that would flash across his face. You loved the little hum heâd make when he was pleased, and the way heâd light up a cigarette, the smoke curling around his impossibly handsome face. You loved his unwavering loyalty, his fierce protectiveness, and even his occasional dramatics. You loved the way he moved, with a dancer's grace, whether in the kitchen or in a fight. You simply loved him.
You two were inseparable. When he was in the kitchen, you were right there beside him, learning to chop vegetables with his precision, or just silently peeling fruit while he orchestrated his culinary masterpieces. You'd often find yourselves on the deck late into the night, sharing hushed conversations under the stars, or simply leaning against the railing, the rhythmic creak of the ship the only sound. When the world seemed to turn upside down, as it so often did on the Grand Line, you two were a singular unit. If a nightmare jolted him awake, youâd be there, a comforting presence beside him, stroking his hair until the terror receded. And when your own sleep was shattered by dark dreams, it was his warm embrace that would pull you back from the brink, his whispered reassurances chasing away the shadows. You were each otherâs calm in the storm, a steadfast, unyielding comfort in a chaotic world.
Your love for Sanji wasn't a sudden, blinding flash, but rather a slow, steady burn, deepening with every shared laugh, every quiet moment, every crisis weathered together. It was in the way his presence alone could soothe the frayed edges of your nerves after a particularly harrowing encounter. It was in the unconscious way your hand would seek his when the ship rocked violently, or in the easy comfort of his arm slung around your shoulders during a rare, peaceful evening on deck. You found yourself cataloging every one of his gestures, every expression: the soft crinkle around his eyes when he genuinely smiled, the rare, almost shy glance he'd cast your way when he thought no one was looking, the firm, reassuring squeeze of his hand when you were worried.
You'd catch yourself staring, sometimes, as he moved around the kitchen, a blur of motion and passion, and a warmth would bloom in your chest. It wasn't just admiration for his skill; it was a profound appreciation for the dedication he poured into every aspect of his life, especially his cooking. You loved watching him explain a dish, his voice filled with an almost poetic reverence for the ingredients. And when he'd present you with a plate, specifically made to your liking, a small, knowing smile on his lips, your heart would ache with a sweetness that was almost overwhelming.
There were moments, too, when the lightheartedness would fade, and you'd glimpse the deeper currents within him. When the crew faced a truly grim situation, or when his past weighed heavily on his mind, you saw a vulnerability that he rarely showed to others. In those times, your love for him solidified into something fierce and protective. You wanted to shield him from every hurt, to be his unwavering support, just as he was yours. The thought of a future without him, without his quick wit, his passionate spirit, his surprisingly tender touch, felt like staring into an empty sea. Your world, it seemed, had become inextricably linked with his, a delicious, exhilarating entanglement you wouldn't trade for anything.
The decision settled within you like a quiet certainty, a gentle hum beneath the surface of your usual camaraderie with Sanji. Today was the day. The thought both exhilarated and terrified you. Each time you tried to find the right moment, however, the chaotic energy of the Thousand Sunny seemed to conspire against you.
The first attempt was during breakfast. He was bustling around the galley, plates flying, a symphony of clanking dishes and sizzling pans. Youâd leaned against the doorway, trying to catch his eye, your heart pounding a nervous rhythm against your ribs. "Sanji," you started, but just then Luffy bellowed for more meat, and Sanji was swept away in a flurry of frantic activity, your words lost in the clamor.
Later, you found him on deck, meticulously polishing his shoes. The sea breeze ruffled his golden hair, and for a moment, the usual boisterousness of the ship seemed to fade. This was it, you thought. You approached him, taking a deep breath. "Sanji, there's something I really need toâ" But before you could finish, Nami called for his assistance with some navigational charts, her voice sharp and urgent. With an apologetic glance, he hurried off, leaving you standing alone with the unspoken words hanging in the air.
The day wore on, each failed attempt adding to the growing knot of anxiety in your stomach. You tried again during his afternoon smoke break on the deck, but Usopp and Chopper joined him, launching into a boisterous recounting of their latest "brave" adventure. You even considered interrupting him while he was cooking dinner, a sacred ritual, but the sheer intensity of his focus deterred you.
Finally, as the stars began to pepper the inky sky, a sense of quiet descended upon the Sunny. The gentle rocking of the ship was almost lulling, and the air was cool and crisp. You found Sanji leaning against the railing on the upper deck, a familiar silhouette against the starlit expanse, the orange glow of his cigarette tip a tiny beacon in the darkness.
Hesitantly, you approached him, the familiar scent of smoke and his subtle cologne filling your senses. You stood beside him, the silence stretching for a comfortable moment before a fresh wave of nervousness washed over you. You could feel your palms sweating, and your throat felt tight.
He took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember momentarily illuminating his profile. He looked peaceful, lost in thought. This was it. No more delaying.
Taking another deep breath, you turned slightly towards him, your gaze fixed on the vast, twinkling universe above. "Sanji," you began, your voice a little shaky, "I... I need to tell you something. Something important."
He turned his head, his brow slightly raised in silent inquiry, the cigarette still held loosely between his lips. He waited patiently, his gaze steady on yours.
You gathered all your courage, the culmination of all those unspoken feelings finally finding their way to your lips. "Sanji," you said, your voice gaining a bit more strength, your eyes locking with his in the soft starlight. "I... I'm in love with you."
The words hung in the cool night air, a confession laid bare under the silent witness of the stars. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the Sunny and the soft creak of the ship. Sanji remained still, his expression unreadable in the dim light. He didn't speak, didn't move, the cigarette slowly burning between his fingers. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, amplifying the frantic beating of your heart as you waited for his response.
The silence stretched, agonizing and thick, under the indifferent gaze of the stars. You watched him, your breath held tight in your chest, waiting for any sign, any movement, any flicker of emotion in his usually expressive face. The cigarette glowed, a tiny, defiant ember in the dim light. And then, he took it from his lips, exhaled a plume of smoke into the night, and his voice, when it finally came, was soft, almost a whisper, yet it struck you with the force of a physical blow.
"I can't, Y/N."
The words hung in the air, simple, definitive, and utterly devastating. Your heart, which had been pounding a frantic drumbeat moments before, seemed to simply drop, sinking into a cold, empty chasm within you. The gentle rocking of the Sunny suddenly felt violent, the night air sharp and biting. You wanted to ask why, to plead, to demand an explanation, but no sound would escape your constricted throat. His gaze, usually so warm and inviting, was now distant, unreadable.
He turned back to the railing, his back partially to you, and took another slow drag of his cigarette. It was a clear dismissal, a silent wall erected between you. The intimacy of the moment, the closeness you had always shared, fractured into a thousand pieces. The air between you, once so comfortable and familiar, was now thick with unspoken words and the crushing weight of rejection.
You stood there for what felt like an eternity, the reality of his words slowly, painfully, setting in. There was nothing more to say, nothing more to do. The hope that had blossomed so brightly in your chest withered and died in an instant. Without another word, you turned and walked away, the gentle creak of the deckboards beneath your feet a mournful counterpoint to the shattering of your own heart. Each step felt heavy, leading you further from the man you loved, and deeper into a silence that now felt colder than the ocean itself. You didn't know where you were going, only that you needed to be somewhere, anywhere, but there.
The night air, once a comforting caress, now felt like a frigid embrace as you stumbled away from Sanji. Every step was a dull ache, a physical manifestation of the chasm that had just ripped open inside you. Your confession, so bravely delivered, had been met with a quiet, undeniable "no," and the reverberations of that single word echoed in the empty chambers of your heart.
A cold wave of numbness washed over you first, a desperate attempt by your mind to shield itself from the raw, searing pain. You felt strangely detached, as if watching a scene unfold from a distance. Was that really your voice, so vulnerable, so exposed? And was that really Sanji, his back turned, leaving you to drown in the silence?
But the numbness was a fragile dam, and behind it, a torrent of grief began to swell. It wasn't the dramatic, weeping kind of grief, but a quiet, insidious ache that settled deep in your bones. It was the grief of a future unwritten, of whispered dreams that would now never see the light of day. Every shared laugh, every comfortable silence, every moment of intertwined closeness with him suddenly felt tainted, replaying in your mind with a new, cruel filter. Had you imagined it all? Had your feelings blinded you to the reality of your relationship?
Then came the humiliation, hot and stinging. To lay your heart bare, only for it to be gently, but firmly, pushed away. You felt exposed, foolish, as if you had worn your deepest secret on your sleeve for all the world to see, only to be met with polite indifference. You wanted to crawl into the darkest corner of the ship, to vanish completely, to escape the memory of his quiet rejection.
Beneath it all was a terrifying sense of loss. Sanji wasn't just a crush; he was your closest confidant, your anchor in the chaotic world of the Straw Hats. The thought of facing him now, of navigating the unspoken awkwardness that would surely settle between you, was unbearable. How could you go back to helping him in the kitchen, to sharing quiet moments on deck, knowing that your heart held a secret he didn't reciprocate? The very foundation of your most cherished friendship felt shattered, leaving you adrift and profoundly alone under the vast, uncaring expanse of the night sky.
Sanji watched your retreating figure disappear into the shadows of the Thousand Sunny, the glowing tip of his cigarette the only witness to the turmoil raging within him. Your confession, those simple, powerful words â "I'm in love with you" â had hit him like a physical blow, simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. He loved you. God, he loved you with a ferocity that surprised even himself. Every kind word, every shared laugh, every quiet moment of understanding you offered was a treasure he guarded fiercely. He loved your unwavering kindness, the way you effortlessly connected with everyone on the crew, your gentle nature that somehow managed to be incredibly strong. He loved the way you looked at him when he cooked, that genuine fascination that made his heart swell.
But saying "no" had been a knee-jerk reaction, a bitter taste in his mouth even as the word left his lips. It wasn't because he didn't feel the same. It was because the raw, unadulterated fear that had coiled in his gut for years had suddenly tightened its grip. The ghost of his past, the haunting specter of Zeff's sacrifice, the constant, gnawing anxiety of losing those he cared for â it all surged to the forefront. He'd seen firsthand the devastating price of love and attachment, the agony of watching someone give everything for him. He couldn't, wouldn't, put you through that. He couldn't bear the thought of you ever having to face danger, or worse, make a sacrifice for him. His deepest, most primal instinct was to protect you, and in his twisted logic, that meant keeping you at arm's length, even from his own heart.
He took another drag, the smoke bitter on his tongue. He could still feel the warmth of your presence beside him, the vulnerable hope in your eyes. Heâd seen the pain flash across your face as he spoke, and it had twisted a knife in his own chest. He wanted to pull you back, to explain, to confess his own overwhelming feelings. He wanted to tell you how much your "I love you" meant, how it had simultaneously shattered and healed parts of him he didn't even know were broken. But the words had frozen in his throat, choked by the fear of what loving you truly meant â the potential for loss, for heartbreak, for the kind of pain he'd sworn he'd never inflict on anyone he cared for again.
He stood there for a long time, the cigarette burning down to its filter, the night air growing colder. He had pushed you away, the person he cherished most, all because he was a coward. A silent, desperate ache settled in his chest, a stark contrast to the lively, boisterous Sanji the crew knew. He had traded your love for what he perceived as your safety, but the silence that now enveloped him felt anything but safe. It felt empty, vast, and terrifyingly lonely.
You found yourself leaning against the mast, the rough wood digging into your back, but you barely noticed. The numbness had begun to recede, leaving behind a raw, exposed nerve. Every breath felt shallow, every sound on the ship amplified and distorted. The once comforting creak of the Thousand Sunny's timbers now sounded like a mournful sigh, mirroring the desolation in your own heart.
You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to erase the image of his unreadable face, his quiet "I can't, Y/N." But it was seared into your mind, a brand of rejection that burned with a cold fire. All those shared moments, the late-night talks, the comfortable silences, the easy camaraderie â they now felt like a cruel deception. Had you misread everything so completely? Had your own feelings conjured a connection that never truly existed on his end? The thought was a bitter pill, difficult to swallow.
A profound loneliness settled over you, a heavy cloak in the vast expanse of the ocean. Even surrounded by your chosen family, the Straw Hats, you felt utterly isolated. How could you face them tomorrow, knowing this secret heartbreak? How could you look Sanji in the eye, pretend that nothing had changed, when your world had just been irrevocably altered? The very thought of his presence, once the source of so much joy, now brought a sharp pang of dread. The ease you once shared was gone, replaced by an insurmountable wall. You had bared your soul, and in return, you had been left with nothing but the echoes of a love unrequited, a future you had dared to dream of, now irrevocably shattered.
The morning wore on, the usual boisterous energy of the Straw Hats filling the galley, but for you, it was a finely tuned performance of pretending. You tried to focus on Chopper's excited ramblings about a new medicinal plant Robin had pointed out, or Namiâs exasperated sighs at Luffyâs bottomless pit of a stomach. But your awareness was a constant hum, attuned to Sanjiâs presence.
He moved past your seat, heading for the stove with a stack of empty plates. As he reached to grab a new batch of pancakes, his hand brushed against your arm. It was a fleeting contact, no more than a whisper of skin on skin, but it was enough. You flinched, a tiny, almost imperceptible jerk, pulling your arm away as if scalded.
Sanjiâs movements faltered. He paused, his back to you, the plates clattering slightly in his hand. The easy flow of his culinary dance had been broken. He turned his head just enough for you to catch his gaze over his shoulder. His usual playful smirk was gone, replaced by a strained neutrality. Your eyes met his for a fraction of a second, and in that brief connection, you both saw it: the abrupt, jarring distance that had replaced your usual closeness. The warmth that had always flowed between you had curdled into something cold and brittle.
The shift was immediate. The lively chatter around the table didn't stop entirely, but it certainly dimmed. Luffy, ever oblivious to subtle cues, simply paused mid-chew, his eyes wide as he looked from you to Sanji and back again. Usopp dropped his fork with a clatter, his mouth agape. Even Zoro, who often seemed to exist in his own drowsy world, cracked open one eye, sensing the sudden chill in the air.
âWhat was that, Y/N? Did you get burnt?â Chopper piped up, his innocent curiosity cutting through the sudden tension like a knife. His wide, earnest eyes looked from your stiff posture to Sanjiâs rigid back.
You felt a flush creep up your neck. Your mind raced, scrambling for an excuse, any excuse, to diffuse the situation. Before you could even formulate a response, Sanjiâs voice, sharper than usual, sliced through the air.
âNo, Chopper-kun. Y/N-chan is fine. I just⌠almost dropped the plates.â His voice was clipped, a stark contrast to his usual melodic tone when addressing you. He didnât turn fully, his back still partially towards the table as he resumed his work with a renewed, almost frantic, energy.
The excuse was flimsy, even for the Straw Hats. The atmosphere remained thick, laced with an unspoken question. You kept your eyes fixed on your plate, pushing a pancake around with your fork, acutely aware of the curious glances, the knowing looks that were now being exchanged around the table. The breakfast, once a lively communal affair, had become a public dissection of the sudden, undeniable rift between you and Sanji.
The breakfast incident was just the first tremor. As the days bled into a new, unsettling rhythm on the Thousand Sunny, the crew, despite their varying levels of perceptiveness, couldn't help but notice the profound shift in the dynamic between Y/N and Sanji.
It began with the small things, the almost imperceptible changes that, when accumulated, painted a stark picture. Sanji's usual flamboyant greetings to you â the twirls, the heartfelt "Y/N-chan! My darling!" â had vanished. Now, they were replaced by a polite, almost formal "Good morning, Y/N," delivered with a brief, unseeing nod. And you, who had always met his theatrics with a fond smile or a playful retort, now simply offered a strained "Good morning, Sanji," often averting your gaze.
The most glaring difference was in the galley. You, who had been his most constant companion in the kitchen, meticulously prepping vegetables, sharing quiet conversations over the sizzle of pans, or simply being a comforting presence, were rarely there anymore. Youâd find excuses: needing to help Nami with charts, offering to mend Usoppâs latest contraption, or even spending extra time with Robin in the library. When you did enter the galley for meals, youâd choose a seat as far from Sanji as possible, and the easy banter that once flowed between you two had dried up completely.
Luffy, in his usual innocent bluntness, was often the first to comment. "Hey, Sanji! Y/N's not helping you cook anymore? Your food's still super good, but it's weird!" Sanji would just offer a tight-lipped smile and mumble something about you being busy, while you would busily focus on your plate, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.
Chopper and Usopp were equally confused. "Y/N, why don't you sit next to Sanji anymore? You always used to!" Chopper might ask, genuinely puzzled. Youâd usually manage a mumbled excuse about liking your current seat, or needing to be closer to someone else for a conversation.
Even Zoro, despite his constant naps, picked up on the tension. He'd occasionally open an eye to observe the subtle but significant distance between you two. He noticed how Sanjiâs usual doting attention towards you had changed to a guarded professionalism, and how your normally open and warm demeanor towards him had become reserved, almost wary. He rarely commented, but a shrewd glint in his eye suggested he was watching, putting the pieces together.
Nami and Robin, with their sharper social instincts, noticed it immediately and more profoundly. Nami would sometimes catch your eye, a silent question passing between you, but you'd quickly look away, your usual openness replaced by a shuttered expression. Robin's usual serene smile would often dim when she observed the interactions, or lack thereof, between you and Sanji. They saw the way Sanji's usual fiery passion seemed a little muted when you were in the room, and how your radiant warmth seemed to dim whenever he was near. The crew's favorite dynamic duo, their closest friends, were suddenly acting like polite strangers, and the Thousand Sunny, for all its adventurous spirit, felt a little colder, a little less like home, because of it.
The initial sting of Sanji's rejection lingered, a dull throb in your chest that refused to fully dissipate. Days bled into weeks, and the forced cordiality between you and the cook remained, an unspoken tension that permeated the galley and the deck. Yet, beneath the surface of that lingering ache, something else, remarkably, began to stir. Very, very slowly, almost imperceptibly, your heart began its long, arduous process of healing.
It wasn't a sudden, dramatic shift. There were still moments, a familiar scent from the galley, a glimpse of his blond head, that would send a fresh pang of sadness through you. But these moments became less frequent, their intensity diminishing over time. You started to find comfort in the smaller joys of life on the Thousand Sunny, appreciating the warmth of the sun on your skin, the salt spray on your face, the familiar rhythm of the waves.
You began to lean more heavily on the other Straw Hats, seeking solace and distraction in their unique personalities. You spent more time with Nami, poring over maps and discussing fashion, her pragmatic realism a grounding force. Youâd listen to Usoppâs wild tales with genuine laughter, finding a simple joy in his boundless imagination. Robinâs quiet wisdom became a soothing balm, her calm presence a welcome respite from the turmoil within. You played more games with Chopper, letting his pure, unadulterated innocence remind you of the simple happiness in the world. Even Frankyâs super enthusiasm and Brookâs musical antics provided a much-needed lightness.
Perhaps most surprisingly, it was your bond with Zoro that deepened the most during this time. The swordsman, usually a man of few words and frequent naps, became an unexpected source of quiet comfort. You found yourself gravitating towards him more and more.
You'd often find him in his usual spot, leaning against the mast or stretched out on the deck, either meditating or lost in one of his famous naps. Instead of trying to engage him in conversation, you'd simply settle down nearby, sometimes with a book, other times just gazing out at the endless ocean. There was no pressure to talk, no need for explanations. His presence was a solid, unwavering anchor in your turbulent emotional sea.
One afternoon, you were watching the clouds drift by, feeling particularly restless. Zoro, who you thought was asleep, mumbled without opening his eyes, "Still can't figure out the damn direction, huh?"
You let out a small, surprised laugh. "Something like that," you admitted, a rare moment of honesty escaping you.
He shifted slightly, and you felt a warmth spread from his shoulder, which was now just barely touching yours. "It gets easier," he grunted, his voice rough but not unkind. "Or you just stop caring as much."
He didn't pry, didn't offer platitudes. He simply understood, in his own quiet way, that you were hurting and that time was the only true healer. You found yourself sharing these silent moments more and more, the simple act of existing beside him a profound comfort. There were no expectations, no complicated dynamics, just a steady, reassuring presence that allowed you to slowly, gently, start putting the pieces of your heart back together.
The bond with Zoro continued to deepen, but it was a comfortable, platonic closeness, built on shared silences and an unspoken understanding. There was no flutter of nerves, no racing heartbeat when you were near him. Instead, there was a steady calm, a sense of being truly seen without having to explain anything. Youâd often find yourself handing him a cool drink after a particularly strenuous training session, and heâd offer a grunt of thanks, perhaps even a rare, small smile that never quite reached his eyes. Sometimes, heâd absentmindedly lean his head on your shoulder during one of his naps, and youâd simply let him, feeling the solid weight of him, a tangible reminder of a friendship that required nothing but presence.
You found yourself laughing more easily around him, too. Zoro, despite his gruff exterior, had a dry, understated wit that often caught you by surprise. He'd make a sarcastic comment about Sanji's over-the-top dramatics, or offer a blunt, insightful observation about Luffy's antics, and you'd find yourself genuinely chuckling, the sound feeling less forced than it had in weeks. You even started joining him for some of his late-night training sessions, not to participate, but to simply sit and watch, the rhythmic thwack of his swords against the practice dummy a strangely soothing sound. He never asked why you were there, and you never felt the need to explain. It was enough.
Sanji, however, saw none of this nuanced comfort. From his perspective, every shared moment between you and Zoro was a fresh stab of jealousy, twisting a knife in the wound your confession had left. He watched from the galley, from the deck, from the corners of his eyes, as your laughter, once freely given to him, now bubbled up around the swordsman. He saw the easy way you settled beside Zoro, an intimacy that had once been solely his domain.
He noticed the way your hand would sometimes hover, then gently pat Zoro's arm when he landed a particularly good hit during training. He saw the private jokes, the shared glances that passed between you, seemingly excluding the rest of the crew. When heâd observe you sitting quietly beside Zoro as the moss-head napped, a wave of resentment would wash over him. He imagined you gazing at Zoro with the same gentle affection you once reserved for him, and it burned.
He didn't see the platonic comfort; he saw a blossoming romance. He didn't see you finding solace; he saw you finding someone else. His mind, clouded by his own internal struggles and the bitter taste of his self-imposed rejection, warped every innocent interaction into proof of a burgeoning connection he couldn't bear to witness. Every quiet laugh he overheard, every casual touch, every shared moment of peace between you and Zoro, fueled his mistaken belief that you had moved on, and found the very connection he desperately wanted to offer, but felt he couldn't.
Sanjiâs heart ached with a dull, constant throb, a counterpoint to the vibrant chaos of the Thousand Sunny. Every laugh he heard from Y/N, every casual gesture of comfort she offered Zoro, felt like a fresh stab. He'd tried to convince himself heâd done the right thing, that pushing you away was for your own protection, but the emptiness where your easy presence used to be was a gaping void. He missed your quiet understanding in the galley, the way youâd hum along to his cooking, the gentle touch of your hand when youâd hand him an ingredient. He missed you. And now, watching you find that comfort, that quiet joy, with Zoro of all people, was a torture he hadn't anticipated. The image of you, smiling so easily beside the moss-head, haunted his waking hours and infiltrated his restless sleep. He felt a bitter irony twist in his gut: he had pushed you away to protect you, only to be consumed by the pain of watching you slip further from his grasp.
The galley was a symphony of midday clamor, a usual lunch scene that felt anything but normal to Sanji. Luffy was, predictably, inhaling mountains of food, his cheeks puffed out. Usopp was animatedly demonstrating a new slingshot technique to a wide-eyed Chopper, narrowly missing a stack of plates. Nami was counting Berry on a notepad, a faint frown on her face, while Franky loudly described a "SUPER!" new modification he planned for the ship to Brook, who was making a skull joke about his empty stomach. Robin sat serenely, a book open in her lap, occasionally offering a knowing smile to the unfolding chaos. Jimbei watched it all with a calm, amused expression.
Your presence, however, was what drew Sanji's gaze, a magnet he couldn't resist. You were seated beside Zoro, a familiar sight now. The swordsman was sharpening one of his katanas with a whetstone, the rhythmic shnnk-shnnk a low hum. You, Y/N, were peeling an orange, occasionally flicking a piece of peel at Zoro's shoulder, making him twitch without breaking his concentration. A small, private smile played on your lips, and when Zoro finally caught a piece of peel in his eye, he grumbled, and you let out a soft, melodic laugh â a sound that used to be reserved for him, Sanji, for his jokes, his antics.
They weren't being loud, or particularly boisterous, but the easy camaraderie between you and Zoro was palpable. You leaned in slightly as Zoro muttered something under his breath, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle a giggle, your shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth. You glanced up, your eyes twinkling, catching Zoroâs gaze, and for a moment, the world outside their shared bubble seemed to vanish.
Sanji watched it all from his place by the stove, a pan in his hand, his blood slowly, steadily, beginning to boil. He was meant to be the one making you laugh like that. He was meant to be the one you shared quiet jokes with. He was meant to be your comfort. The sight of your genuine amusement, the shared glance, the intimacy of the moment between you two, was the final straw.
With a sudden, violent motion, Sanji pivoted, and with a harsh, metallic clang that echoed through the entire galley, he aggressively threw the pan into the sink. It landed with a loud, reverberating thud, startlingly loud in the confined space.
The cacophony of lunch instantly died. Luffy froze mid-chew, his mouth agape. Usopp and Chopper whimpered, clutching each other. Nami's head snapped up from her calculations. Franky's "SUPER!" died on his lips. Brook's joke hung unfinished in the air. Even Robin's serene expression faltered slightly, her eyes widening.
The entire galley fell silent, save for the faint rocking of the ship and the lingering echo of the pan's impact. Every eye was now fixed on Sanji's rigid back, his shoulders hunched, his hands clenched. He didn't speak, didn't move. The tension in the room was so thick you could almost taste it, cold and sharp. You and Zoro, who had been trying to stifle your laughter moments before, were now completely still, the playful glint gone from your eyes, replaced by a wide, startled apprehension.
The silence stretched, suffocating and charged. The air in the galley was thick enough to cut with a knife, every pair of eyes fixed on Sanjiâs rigid back. He stood there for a moment longer, breathing heavily, before he finally spun around, his face contorted in a mask of raw emotion that stunned the entire crew into deeper silence. His usual suave demeanor was utterly shattered, replaced by a storm of pain, fury, and accusation.
His gaze, wild and unfocused, swept over the stunned faces of his crewmates before landing, like a physical blow, on you, Y/N.
âWhat are you looking at, Y/N-chan?!â he snarled, his voice rough, completely devoid of its usual charm. It was a voice none of them had heard directed at you before. âHappy now?! You got what you wanted, didnât you?!â
A gasp rippled through the galley. Namiâs eyes widened, and Usopp and Chopper huddled closer together, fear etched on their faces. Luffy, for once, was completely silent, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Sanji didnât wait for a response. His eyes, burning with a pain he couldn't articulate, flicked to Zoro. âAnd you! You just love this, donât you, Marimo?! Always there to pick up the pieces, aren't you?! Always there to be the big, strong hero!â His voice was laced with a venomous bitterness.
âSanji, what are you talking about?!â Nami finally managed to blurt out, her voice sharp with concern.
But Sanji was beyond hearing. He was caught in the torrent of his own anguish and misguided conclusions. He gestured wildly between you and Zoro, his voice cracking with the pain of perceived betrayal. âDonât pretend you donât know! All this âquiet comfort,â all these âshared laughsâ!â He spat the words out, mocking your developing friendship with Zoro. âJust a little over a month ago⌠she stood right there,â he pointed a trembling finger at the spot where you had confessed the other night, âunder the stars, and told me she loved me!â
The words hung in the air, a shocking, unexpected revelation. The entire crew froze, their faces a mixture of disbelief, confusion, and dawning realization. The clattering of forks on plates, the quiet murmurs, all ceased. Your face, Y/N, drained of all color, while Zoro, who had been listening with a rare intensity, slowly narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint appearing in their depths.
âShe told me she loved me,â Sanji repeated, his voice dropping to a low, heartbroken growl, his gaze boring into you. âAnd now⌠now look at you! Laughing with him! Was it all a lie, Y/N?! Was it just a game?! Because if you loved me, if you truly loved me, you wouldnât be acting like this! You wouldnât be sitting there, cozy with him, like nothing ever happened!â
His chest heaved, his confession of your confession laying bare not just his own pain, but also his deeply held belief that your affection for him had been fickle, easily transferred. The pan lay in the sink, a testament to the sudden, violent eruption of a secret that had been simmering beneath the surface, unnoticed by all but the two people at its heart.
Sanji's chest heaved, his face flushed with a mixture of raw pain and a jealousy he could no longer contain. He pointed at you, then at himself, his voice rising, thick with anguish. âWe should be the ones laughing like that! We should be the ones sitting close, sharing private jokes! We should be the ones comforting each other when weâve had a bad day, or when we canât sleep!â His voice cracked on the last words, the memories of your shared nightmares, your gentle comfort, flooding his mind, twisting the knife of his perceived loss deeper. âThat was us! That was our thing! But you just⌠you just moved on, didnât you?! So easily! All that talk about loving me, just to go running into his arms a few weeks later?!â He gestured wildly at Zoro, his eyes burning with accusation.
He took a ragged breath, the sheer force of his emotional outburst leaving him winded. His rant trailed off, replaced by heavy, shaky breaths. The silence that followed was absolute, punctuated only by the distant lapping of waves against the hull. The entire crew sat frozen, their gazes shifting between Sanji's trembling form and your pale, shocked face. The secret, raw and ugly, was now laid bare for everyone.
You, Y/N, felt a tremor run through you. His words, especially the accusation of you "moving on," stung with a fresh agony. It was a complete misinterpretation of your pain, your slow healing, and your platonic friendship with Zoro. The injustice of it, coupled with the humiliation of this public spectacle, finally broke through your shock.
You pushed yourself away from the table, the scrape of your chair against the floor unnervingly loud in the quiet galley. Your voice, though trembling, cut through the tension. âSanji, stop! What are you even talking about?!â You stared at him, your eyes blazing with tears and indignation. âI donât âloveâ Zoro! I never did! Heâs my friend, heâs our friend! And I wasnât âmoving onâ to anyone! I was just⌠trying to feel normal again after⌠after you told me you couldnât love me back!â
Your voice cracked on the last words, the sheer vulnerability of your confession echoing through the sudden quiet.
Zoro, who had been watching the scene unfold with uncharacteristic stillness, slowly uncrossed his arms. He then pushed himself up, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he glared at Sanji. âYou really are an idiot, love-cook,â he sneered, his voice laced with his usual antagonism, but with an underlying edge of genuine anger. âShe was never ârunning into my arms.â She was just trying to stop feeling like shit after you rejected her. Unlike some people, I don't need to be fawned over to be a decent friend. Maybe you should try it sometime, instead of throwing tantrums like a spoiled brat.â He then turned, a rare, softer glance at you. "You okay, Y/N?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle.
Your voice, raw with emotion, hung in the stunned silence of the galley. The accusation of his betrayal, the public exposure of your deepest painâit was all too much. Your eyes, already burning, prickled with the threat of tears. You couldn't stay. You couldn't endure another second of the tension, the prying eyes, the agonizing presence of Sanji and his twisted understanding of your pain.
Without another word, you turned on your heel, pushing past the stunned Straw Hats. Your vision blurred, but you refused to break down here, not now, not in front of everyone. You marched out of the galley, the swinging door echoing your abrupt departure. The cool sea breeze on deck was a welcome shock, but it did little to quell the storm inside. You hurried to the railing, grasping the cool metal, drawing in deep, shaky breaths. Only one tear, hot and defiant, managed to escape, tracing a path down your cheek before you fiercely blinked it away. You wouldn't cry. Not anymore. Not for this. The vastness of the ocean stretched before you, offering a semblance of calm, a powerful, indifferent presence that mirrored your sudden emptiness.
Back in the galley, the silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the usual lively chaos. Sanji stood frozen, his arm still outstretched from his furious gesture, his face a mask of shock as your words, particularly "after you told me you couldn't love me back," finally registered. His rage, so potent moments before, deflated, leaving behind a profound emptiness and a cold, creeping dread.
Zoro's sharp retort still hung in the air, but his gaze, now fixed on Sanji, was devoid of its usual mockery. It was serious, almost challenging.
Nami was the first to move, her face a mixture of anger and deep concern. "Sanji! What was that?! You just⌠you just humiliated Y/N! And what do you mean, you 'couldn't love her back'?!" Her voice rose, demanding an explanation.
Usopp and Chopper, huddled together, looked utterly bewildered and heartbroken. "Sanji, you made Y/N cry!" Chopper whimpered, his eyes welling up.
Luffy, unusually quiet, finally spoke, his voice low and serious. "Sanji. What happened?" It wasn't a demand, but a quiet, firm question that cut through the remaining tension.
Sanji slowly lowered his arm, his shoulders slumping. The color had drained from his face, leaving him ashen. His bravado, his anger, had completely evaporated, replaced by a dawning, terrible realization. He had messed up. Royally. He had misinterpreted everything, lashed out, and hurt the one person he was desperately trying to protect.
He turned to face the stunned faces of his crewmates, his gaze unfocused, seeing the anger in Nami's eyes, the confusion in Luffy's, the hurt in Chopper's, and the stern disapproval in Zoro's. His eyes fell on the empty chair where you had been sitting, and the raw truth of your words hit him with the force of a tidal wave. He hadn't seen your heartbreak, only his own twisted fear. He hadn't seen your struggle to heal, only his own jealousy.
"I..." Sanji began, his voice hoarse, barely a whisper. He looked down at his hands, trembling. "I⌠I was scared." The admission was agonizing, stripped bare for all to hear. He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to look up, his eyes pleading with his crew, but especially with the empty space where you had been. "I thought⌠if I loved someone again, if I let myself truly love again⌠I'd lose them. I'd fail them. I couldn't⌠I couldn't bear to put Y/N through that. I pushed her away⌠to protect her." His voice broke on the last word, the truth of his selfish fear finally tearing through his carefully constructed defenses. "I didn't... I didn't think she'd actually⌠leave. And then... seeing her with him..." He gestured vaguely at Zoro, his jealousy still there, but now overshadowed by a crushing wave of regret and self-loathing. "I just... I thought she had moved on. That she didn't⌠didn't love me anymore." He squeezed his eyes shut, a lone tear escaping and tracing a path through the faint stubble on his jaw. "God, I messed up."
The raw, painful confession hung in the air, revealing Sanji's deep-seated fear and the colossal misunderstanding that had driven his outburst. The crew, though still reeling, watched as his shoulders visibly slumped, his usual confident posture replaced by one of profound defeat. He didn't wait for their reactions, for pity, or for judgment. The image of your retreating figure, the single tear you had fought so hard to suppress, was seared into his mind. He had to fix this. He had to try.
With a sudden, decisive movement, Sanji pushed himself away from the stove. His chair scraped loudly against the floor, a jarring sound in the now silent galley. He didn't spare a glance at Nami's worried face, Luffy's confused frown, or Zoro's scrutinizing gaze. His eyes were fixed on the galley door, the one you had just stormed through.
"I... I have to go," he muttered, his voice still hoarse, but laced with a newfound urgency. He didn't offer an explanation, didn't ask for permission. The need to find you, to explain, to apologize, was an overwhelming tide that swept away all other concerns.
He strode out of the galley, his long legs carrying him quickly down the corridor. He burst onto the main deck, his eyes scanning wildly. The sea breeze whipped at his hair, and the familiar creak of the Thousand Sunny seemed to mock his inner turmoil. He spotted you almost immediately, a solitary figure leaning against the railing at the ship's stern, your back to him, gazing out at the vast, indifferent ocean.
His heart ached at the sight. You looked small, vulnerable, and incredibly distant. He had done that. He had built that distance between you. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Sanji began to walk towards you, each step a testament to the fear he was pushing past, and the desperate hope that it wasn't too late.
Sanjiâs steps were hesitant as he approached you, the usual confident swagger gone. The silence between you was heavy, punctuated only by the rhythmic creak of the Sunny and the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull. He stopped a few feet behind you, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He couldn't see your face, only the stiff set of your shoulders, the way you clutched the railing.
"Y/N," he began, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. It was the first time he'd spoken your name without a flourish, without a honorific, and it felt stark, intimate in a way that made his stomach churn with nerves. "I... I'm so sorry."
You didn't move, didn't acknowledge him beyond a slight stiffening of your shoulders. The ocean remained your sole focus.
He took a tentative step closer. "What I said... back there... it was unforgivable. I was a fool." He closed his eyes briefly, the memory of his outburst a fresh wave of shame. "I was angry, and scared, and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair. You didn't deserve that."
Still, you remained silent, your stillness unnerving. He yearned to see your face, to gauge your reaction, but you kept it hidden.
"I know I messed up," he continued, his voice laced with a raw honesty. "When you told me... what you told me that night... I was terrified. Not of you, Y/N, never of you. But of... of losing you. Of hurting you. I've seen what love can cost, and I... I was a coward. I pushed you away because I thought that would keep you safe, keep you from the kind of pain I've carried. But all I did was cause you pain myself."
A soft, almost imperceptible sound escaped you. A sniffle, perhaps. It was enough for Sanji to feel a flicker of hope, a sign you were listening.
"And seeing you with Zoro..." he admitted, his voice softening, tinged with regret, "I just... I misinterpreted it all. I was jealous. Blinded by my own stupid pride and fear. I saw you laughing, being comfortable, and I thought... I thought you had just moved on, that what you said to me didn't mean anything anymore. That was wrong. So incredibly wrong of me." He paused, waiting, hoping for a response.
Finally, your voice, barely a whisper, floated back to him on the breeze. "It hurt, Sanji." Your voice was flat, devoid of emotion, yet the simple statement was a devastating blow. "A lot."
He flinched, the truth of your words a heavy weight in his gut. "I know," he choked out. "And I'll never forgive myself for it. I ruined everything, didn't I? Our friendship... everything."
You finally turned your head, just slightly, enough for him to catch your profile. Your eyes were red-rimmed, but dry, your jaw set. You looked exhausted. "You said you couldn't," you murmured, your voice brittle. "That was the hardest part. Not understanding why."
"Because I'm a damn coward, Y/N!" he burst out, frustration and self-loathing coloring his tone. He stepped closer, reaching out a hand as if to touch your arm, but hesitated, letting it drop. "I was so scared of loving you and then... losing you, that I chose to lose you myself. It was the stupidest, most self-serving decision I've ever made." He took a shaky breath. "Can you... can you ever forgive me?"
The wind whipped around you, tugging at your hair. You looked out at the endless expanse of the ocean, the setting sun painting the clouds in fiery hues. Your gaze was distant, thoughtful. After a long moment, you finally turned fully to face him, your eyes meeting his. The raw hurt was still there, visible in their depths, but beneath it, a faint flicker of something elseâresignation, perhaps, or simply exhaustion.
"I..." you began, your voice still quiet, but steady. "I need time, Sanji." You offered nothing more, no promise, no condemnation. Just that simple, clear statement. The possibility of healing, of moving forward, was there, but it wouldn't be easy, and it certainly wouldn't be rushed.
Sanji stood there, absorbing your words. "Time," he repeated, the single word hanging in the air. It wasn't the immediate absolution he desperately craved, but it wasn't a definitive "no" either. It was a thread, fragile but present, in the wreckage of his own making. He knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his aching heart, that he would wait for as long as it took.
The first day after Sanjiâs confession and your subsequent departure was thick with an unspoken tension that settled over the Thousand Sunny. Breakfast was quiet, almost unnaturally so. Sanji, though he served everyone with his usual precision, kept his gaze largely fixed on the plates, avoiding eye contact with you. And you, Y/N, felt the weight of every silent glance from the crew, though they admirably tried to act normal. You ate quickly, excusing yourself as soon as possible, seeking refuge on the deck, where the vastness of the ocean offered a strange sense of solace.
The next few weeks were a delicate dance of hesitant overtures and cautious acceptance. Sanji, true to his remorse, began a subtle campaign of making amends. It wasn't about grand gestures; it was in the small, thoughtful ways he always showed his affection, but now directed solely at you, with an added layer of deference.
Youâd find your favorite tea waiting for you on the railing when you went to watch the sunrise, perfectly brewed and still warm. Sometimes, a plate of exquisitely prepared fruit would appear beside your usual spot on the deck, cut into perfect, bite-sized pieces, a silent offering. Heâd leave small, perfectly arranged pastries outside your cabin door in the mornings, knowing you had a sweet tooth. He never lingered, never forced an interaction, simply left his culinary gifts and retreated, giving you space.
The crew, observing this quiet ballet, maintained a respectful distance, though their hopeful glances were not lost on you. They saw Sanji's obvious remorse and his earnest attempts to bridge the chasm he'd created.
The air between you and Sanji slowly, imperceptibly, began to thin. The biting tension eased into a more subdued awkwardness. You still avoided direct eye contact for the most part, but the sharp pain of his rejection had dulled to a persistent ache.
One afternoon, you were sitting on the deck, attempting to mend a tear in one of Usoppâs worn shirts. The sun was warm, and the ship rocked gently. You heard the familiar clink of ceramic as Sanji approached, placing a small, steaming mug of coffee beside you. It was your favorite blend, black with just a hint of vanilla, exactly how you liked it. He didn't say anything, just set it down and began to turn away.
âSanji,â you said, your voice a little rusty from disuse, stopping him mid-pivot.
He froze, his back still partially to you, his shoulders tensing. He slowly turned his head, just enough for you to see his profile, his brow furrowed with apprehension.
You took a deep breath, the scent of the coffee filling your nostrils. It was now or never. âThank you,â you said, gesturing to the mug. âItâs⌠itâs perfect.â
He turned fully then, his eyes, still guarded, meeting yours. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through him. âOf course, Y/N-chan,â he managed, his voice softer than it had been in weeks, the familiar honorific returning tentatively. âAnything for you.â
The silence stretched again, but this time, it felt less suffocating, less painful. It was a space for tentative breath. You took a sip of the coffee, its warmth spreading through you. âIt doesnât make it all okay, you know,â you said, your voice quiet, honest.
He nodded, a profound sadness in his eyes. âI know,â he said, his gaze unwavering. âI donât expect it to. I just⌠I hope one day, it wonât hurt so much for you.â
You looked into the rich, dark surface of your coffee, seeing your reflection waver slightly with the shipâs movement. âMe too,â you murmured, the admission a quiet truce, a small, fragile opening in the wall that had been built between you. It wasn't forgiveness, not yet, but it was a beginning.
The quiet exchange over coffee was a delicate first step, a crack in the wall that had separated you and Sanji. In the days that followed, that crack slowly, tentatively, widened. It wasn't an immediate return to the effortless intimacy you once shared; the raw edges of the recent past still lingered, a phantom ache. But the silence that had felt so heavy began to fill with hushed conversations and the gentle hum of renewed connection.
The first few shared moments were tentative. You found yourself drawn back to the galley, not as a constant fixture, but occasionally. You'd sit at the counter, perhaps peeling an apple or sketching in a notebook, while Sanji worked. He'd offer you little samples of what he was preparing, small, perfect bites that were both an apology and an offering of his unwavering care. Your responses were brief at first, a soft "Thank you, Sanji," or a nod of appreciation, but they grew steadier, more comfortable.
One afternoon, you found him meticulously cleaning his collection of pristine cooking knives. You approached cautiously. "Those really are sharp," you commented, a simple observation. He paused, looking up, and for the first time in weeks, a small, genuine smile touched his lips. "Only the best for my lovely crew, Y/N-chan," he replied, the familiar honorific feeling less forced, more like a soft invitation. You stayed there for a while, simply watching him work, the comfortable silence a balm to both your spirits.
He started leaving you little notes with your morning teaâa silly drawing of a swirly brow, a perfectly pressed flower, a recipe for a dessert you once mentioned liking. They were small, almost childlike gestures, a testament to his earnest desire to reconnect. And you, in turn, began to leave him things: a particular herb you found growing on an island, a small, polished seashell, a drawing of him surrounded by hearts (which you quickly scribbled over, much to his amused glance).
You still sought out Zoro's quiet company, finding solace in his unspoken understanding, but now, you also found yourself back on the deck with Sanji, watching the stars. The conversations weren't deep confessions, but gentle, meandering talks about the day, about the sea, about nothing in particular. He wouldn't comment on your past rejections, nor would you bring up his fears. It was simply about being together again, slowly rebuilding the easy rhythm of your connection. He no longer looked at Zoro with overt jealousy, and you no longer felt the need to hide your interactions with the swordsman. The tension, though not entirely gone, had softened into a quiet understanding.
The Straw Hats watched this gradual reconciliation with a mixture of relief and quiet satisfaction. Nami and Robin, ever perceptive, exchanged knowing glances, a silent acknowledgement of the healing happening before their eyes. They saw the lingering hurt in your eyes, but also the tentative warmth returning, and the genuine remorse in Sanji's guarded expressions.
Luffy, after his initial confusion, simply seemed happy that his two friends were talking and spending time together again. He'd occasionally try to rope you both into his antics, a silent test of the re-established camaraderie.
Usopp and Chopper were overjoyed. "Look, Sanji and Y/N are talking again!" Chopper would whisper excitedly to Usopp, who'd nod with a knowing grin. They missed the familiar dynamic between you two, and seeing it slowly return filled them with childlike glee.
Even Zoro, in his own gruff way, seemed content. He'd occasionally catch Sanji watching you, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and a rare, almost imperceptible smirk would cross Zoroâs face. He saw that Sanji was finally putting in the effort, acknowledging his mistakes, and that was enough. The tension that had permeated the ship had begun to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm, a hopeful return to the harmonious chaos that defined the Straw Hat Pirates.
The tentative steps taken in the galley and on the deck slowly, but surely, led to deeper connections. The walls between Y/N and Sanji began to crumble, brick by painful brick, replaced by the familiar comfort of shared vulnerabilities and, most importantly, laughter. It wasn't the forced politeness of the initial weeks, nor the strained awkwardness of the first interactions. This was genuine, unrestrained mirth, a sound that had been sorely missed on the Thousand Sunny.
The shift was most evident during meal times. You found yourself gravitating back to your old seat near him, the casual brush of your shoulders no longer causing a flinch but a quiet warmth. Youâd catch his eye from across the table, and a shared smirk would pass between you when Luffy did something particularly outrageous, a silent inside joke that needed no words.
One evening, while Sanji was meticulously plating dessert, he accidentally slipped on a rogue banana peel left by Luffy, doing a comical, flailing dance before catching himself just before he hit the deck. The sound of a genuine, unrestrained giggle burst from you, bright and clear. Sanji, momentarily mortified, looked up to see you clutching your stomach, tears of laughter streaming down your face. Instead of his usual dramatic sulk, a small, sheepish grin spread across his face, and he let out a chuckle himself, the sound a rusty but welcome melody. That shared moment of unadulterated amusement felt like a breakthrough, a vital return to the lightness you once effortlessly shared.
Soon, the galley became a place of easy laughter once more. Youâd tease him about his overly dramatic reactions to Namiâs requests, or playfully challenge his insistence that carrots were always inferior to other vegetables. He, in turn, would jest about your occasional clumsiness or your tendency to hum off-key while you worked. The familiar, comfortable banter flowed between you like a river finding its natural course, washing away the last lingering remnants of tension.
Outside the galley, your interactions blossomed too. Heâd still bring you tea or snacks, but now heâd stay, leaning against the railing beside you, sharing quiet observations about the passing islands or the starry sky. Sometimes, heâd recount a funny anecdote from his past, or share a new recipe idea with an almost childlike enthusiasm, and your genuine interest would light up his eyes. You, in turn, found yourself opening up about your own experiences, sharing stories and insights you hadn't voiced since the rift between you two had formed.
The crew, having witnessed the tumultuous journey, felt the palpable relief in the ship's atmosphere. Nami would often smile to herself, a soft, contented expression on her face, when she overheard your laughter mingling with Sanjiâs. Chopper would bounce excitedly, delighted to see his two beloved friends back to their old selves. Even Zoro, who continued to share his quiet, unwavering friendship with you, would occasionally offer a subtle nod of approval in Sanji's direction, a silent acknowledgment that the love-cook was finally getting his act together. The Thousand Sunny hummed with a renewed warmth, a testament to the resilient bonds of its unconventional family.
While your relationship with Sanji had healed, returning to a comfortable closeness filled with laughter, the unspoken question of your romantic feelings still lingered, a gentle undercurrent beneath the surface of your renewed friendship. Sanji, still bearing the weight of his past rejection and your subsequent hurt, hadn't broached the subject again, content to rebuild your bond slowly and genuinely.
Unbeknownst to you, however, Sanji had been having clandestine talks with a certain navigator with a penchant for Berry and a surprisingly strategic mind: Nami. Seeing the genuine affection that had always existed between you and Sanji, and witnessing his sincere remorse, Nami had taken it upon herself to give him a little⌠push.
One evening, as the Thousand Sunny sailed under a sky dusted with a million stars, Nami casually steered you towards the deck after dinner. "Come look at the moon, Y/N! It's supposed to be particularly beautiful tonight," she said, a little too enthusiastically.
As you stepped onto the deck, you were met with a sight that made your heart skip a beat. Sanji stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the ship's lanterns, looking uncharacteristically dapper in a well-fitting suit. In his hand, he held a small bouquet of vibrant red roses. He looked nervous, his usual confident swagger replaced by a charmingly vulnerable demeanor.
Nami, with a sly wink, subtly backed away, leaving you two alone. Sanji took a deep breath, his gaze locked on yours, a warmth spreading through his eyes that you hadn't seen in a long time.
"Y/N," he began, his voice a little shaky but filled with sincerity. "After everything that happened⌠after my stupid mistakes⌠I realized something very important. Pushing you away was the biggest regret of my life. My fear almost cost me the most precious thing I've ever known." He stepped closer, the roses held out in offering. "You are kind, you are strong, you are the most amazing person I've ever met. And every moment I spend with you, even just laughing in the galley, makes my world brighter."
He paused, his gaze searching yours. "Y/N⌠I know I don't deserve it, not after everything. But⌠would you give me another chance? Would you let me love you, properly this time? Because I am, wholeheartedly, irrevocably, in love with you."
The air crackled with unspoken emotions. The stars twinkled above, silent witnesses to this long-awaited moment. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a joy that had been dormant for too long finally blossoming. A soft smile touched your lips as you reached out, gently taking the roses from his trembling hand.
"Yes, Sanji," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "Yes, I would."
A wave of relief washed over Sanji's face, quickly followed by a radiant grin that lit up his features. He stepped closer, his eyes filled with a love that mirrored your own, and gently cupped your cheek. The Thousand Sunny, sailing smoothly under the starlit sky, finally felt complete.
The word hung in the air, a delicate bridge spanning the chasm of past hurts. "Yes, Sanji," you whispered, and the relief that washed over Sanji's face was immediate, profound, and utterly transforming. His usual suave demeanor, which had been a mask for so long, melted away, revealing a raw, pure joy. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin, and then, slowly, reverently, he leaned in. The kiss was soft, tentative at first, a question and an answer, before deepening into a heartfelt embrace that sealed the long journey back to each other.
The Thousand Sunny, ever the silent observer, seemed to hum with a newfound warmth. The stars above twinkled brighter, and the gentle rocking of the ship felt like a lullaby of contentment. When you finally pulled apart, breathless, your eyes locked with his. The love shining in his gaze was unmistakable, mirroring the radiant warmth now blooming in your own heart. It was a love that had been tested, nearly broken, but had ultimately endured.
The Straw Hats, ever perceptive, hadn't missed the private moment unfolding on deck. Nami, who had orchestrated the confession, let out a soft sigh of satisfaction, a small, knowing smile gracing her lips. She nudged Luffy, who had been quietly watching the scene with unusual focus.
"They finally did it!" Usopp whispered excitedly to Chopper, who was bouncing on his hooves with glee.
Zoro, leaning against the mast with his arms crossed, simply grunted. But a faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the successful, if dramatic, resolution.
The next morning, the Thousand Sunny felt lighter, filled with an almost palpable sense of joy. Sanji, true to form, outdid himself with breakfast, laying out a feast fit for kings and queens. His usual "Nami-swan! Robin-chan!" greetings were still there, but his eyes constantly sought yours, a soft, private smile just for you.
You found yourself sitting closer to him at the table, your hand occasionally brushing his under the table, a secret language passing between you. The crew, now fully aware of your newfound status, couldn't contain their excitement. Luffy cheered, Usopp and Chopper danced around the galley, and even Franky let out a booming "SUPER!" of approval.
The teasing was immediate and good-natured. Franky declared you both the "SUPER LOVE-LOVE COUPLE!" while Brook composed an impromptu, albeit slightly off-key, song about love on the high seas. Sanji, usually flustered by such attention, simply preened, his arm naturally finding its way around your waist, pulling you closer.
The journey ahead was still fraught with danger and adventure, but now, you faced it not just as a crew, but as a couple, your love a new, vibrant thread in the already strong tapestry of the Straw Hat Pirates. The difficult times had forged a bond of understanding and patience, a foundation upon which a beautiful future could finally be built.
i love you headcanons. i love you rarepairs. i love you crackships. i love you self inserts. i love you kinsonas. i love you ocs. i love you selfshipping. i love you oc x canon. i love you x reader. i love you aus. i love y
THANK YOU TO @littlebirdygirlywriting FOR THE TAG :]
Rules: Pinterest is setting you up on a blind date! Search the following and post the results: fictional character, date, gift, outfit, dessert, and love quote.
I am SO SORRY this took so long... I had this in my drafts for like two weeks and got mad that it stopped me from putting pictures, because I tried to do three characters and Tumblr's picture limit on posts is 10. So I finally got back to it and just used Canva to make the collages, haha. As a note, your lovely account owner Winter is plus size, so I tried to take that into account when picking out the outfits. And I also tried my best to avoid AI images but Pinterest is full of them and I'm really bad at telling when something is AI generated for some reason, so if I used one please tell me and I'll change it!!!!
First up, the people's princess Matthew Murdock, a.k.a. Daredevil. A newer obsession, but a strong one nonetheless. I am absolutely enamored with this man.
Second, my first fictional crush, my pookie for more than ten years, the one and only Chrom Fire Emblem. Oh lord how I wanted to be my Robin in middle school. (Side note, does anyone remember those little toy animals with the magnetic paws?? I had like five million of them as a kid).
And last, but most certainly not least, my babygirl Rengoku Kyojuro. I don't typically cry over fictional characters, but iykyk.
I low-key want to do more, but I stopped myself here. I don't have anyone to tag, so if you have seen this post, consider yourself tagged for the challenge and have fun!
Summary: Every year, it was the worst week of your life. A week absolutely brimming with unpleasant anniversaries. But when you sleep through your alarm for work, you donât expect a certain Matt Murdock to come knocking at your door. Or that youâd confess the feelings you have for him.
Authorâs Note: I canât believe I reference a game of truth or dare so often in this fic just to not be able to come up with what the dare would be. Smh. Sorry guys. You can use your imagination I guess. đ Thank you SO MUCH for the request anon!! I hope itâs everything you were hoping it would be and that itâs not too cliche⌠(And that itâs not too long, because this baby really got away on me. đŹ) This is actually my first time writing (or at least posting) for the DD fandom, so please let me know if Iâm OOC!
Warnings: Angst (but with a happy ending), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, References to Parental Death, Cussing, References to Alcohol and Hangovers, no use of y/n (Iâm getting pretty good at back flipping and somersaulting around it, but I still apologize if it comes off clunky), Fluff at the end (because whatâs the point of hurt/comfort if we donât have some cute, fluffy comfort??), Love Confessions. Iâm posting this without editing, and yes, that is a warning. (I am SO going to regret this decision later, but I am way too tired to edit).
This cannot be happening. I cannot be falling in love with Matt Murdock.
It was stupid, really. The stupidest thing that had caused you to realise it.
Freaking Foggy.
Granted, you couldnât entirely blame him. You were far too old to succumb to peer pressure anyway. Far too old to be playing Truth or Dare with a six-pack of beer and the exhaustion of an emotional week under your belt.
A week absolutely brimming with unpleasant anniversaries.
The anniversary of your motherâs death, the anniversary of your long-term boyfriend breaking up with you for your best friend, your birthday. Bing, bang, boomâŚback-to-back.
Every year, it was the worst week of your life, and you just wanted something fun and lighthearted and silly enough to make you forget about the ache wrenching your heart in two.
Stupid. Stupid anniversaries and stupid emotions and stupid, stupid, STUPID, idiotic game.
It was juvenile, and you cursed yourself for going along with the idea. Because now, you had another item to add to the list.
And the week wasnât even over yet.
A steady thumping at your door matched the rhythm pounding in your head, your name spoken through the thin wood.
Peeking through cracked eyelids revealed afternoon sunlight streaming into your apartment, the alarm clock beside your bed happily displaying 12:05pm.
Shit!
You bolted upright in bed, groaning as your head throbbed in protest. Another series of knocks rapped against your door, followed by your name again. Double shit!
Matt.
Stumbling out of bed, you grit your teeth against the headache and tripped your way to the door, fumbling with the lock and cursing your hangover. The drinking hadnât stopped once you got home, and you were really starting to regret that decision.
The lock clicked, and before Matt even had a chance to step into the apartment, apologies were spewing from your lips.
âIâm sorry. Iâm sorry. Iâm so sorry, Matt. It wonât happen again. I mustâve slept through the alarm or forgot to set it or something, but it wonât happen again, I promise. Iââ
The words were spilling out of you like a river, and even you were struggling to make sense of them. Embarrassingly, tears pricked the backs of your eyes, something that only deepened the ache pounding through your skull.
âHey.â Matt dropped his cane in the entryway, door closing behind him and strong, steady hands placed groundingly on your shoulders. âHey, itâs okay. Iâm not mad. Foggy, Karen, and I were just worried when you didnât show up to work. We thought somebody better come check on you.â
That wasâŚreally sweet.
And the floodgates opened.
Gut-wrenching sobs tore through your body, every ounce of hurt and despair and loneliness bottled up for the last several years breaking through your carefully-constructed walls and flowing like a wellspring onto the hardwood floor.
For a second, Matt froze, stunned, and you wanted to kick yourself. This was not what Matt had signed up for by volunteering to come check on you. If anything, he was probably wishing right now that Karen or Foggy or literally anyone else had offered to go instead.
âIâmâIâm sorry.â You tried to apologize for crying, for not showing up to work, for being a crazy, messed-up disaster that Matt certainly shouldnât have to deal with.
His arms wrapped around you, warm and comforting, and despite your best intentions, you found yourself melting into the touch, clinging to the front of his dress shirt and probably ruining it with your tears.
âIâmâIâm sorry, Matt. Iââ
âShhh.â He interrupted you with a hum, gently resting his chin on top of your head, strong arms locked securely around you.
Still, you felt the need to explain.
âItâsâitâs just a really rough week for me, but Iâll be fine. Iâll be fine. Iâm always fine. I always end up fine. I justââ
He shushed you again quietly, warm hands running soothing strokes up and down your back. The tears began to slow, and you hiccuped before attempting to take a long, controlled breath.
âThatâs it. Thatâs good. Just breathe.â
His hands didnât stop moving, and you closed your eyes, savouring the touch for however long it would last. Burying yourself in the comfort of it.
Maybe you could make a piece of this moment last forever.
When a deep, shuddery sigh expelled itself from your lungs, Matt stepped back, head tilting as his hands rested back on your shoulders, seeming to be listening for something. What, you didnât know. Concern marred a crease on his forehead though, and another wave of guilt roiled in your stomach.
âAre you okay?â
âYeah.â Your voice was small and weak, pathetic. âMatt, Iâm soââ
âStop saying youâre sorry.â His tone was firm, brooking no argument. His hand started stroking up and down your arm. âYou have nothing to be sorry for.â
âI was late for work.â The words fell to the floor with your gaze.
âWe got by for the morning.â
You squinted against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, the ache behind your eyes barely manageable. âI made you guys worry.â
His tone remained smooth, calm. âThatâs okay. Youâre okay, and thatâs all that matters.â
âAndâŚâ You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, worrying your lip between your teeth. âI got tears on your shirt.â
A wry smile tilted his lips, and you could just picture the amusement dancing behind those red glasses. âIâll live, and itâll wash.â
âI justâŚâ You sighed, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes, trying to uproot the headache that seemed to be drilling a hole through your skull. âI just wish this week was over.â
The tips of his fingers danced over your arm, and his voice became low, tender. âWhy?â
Tears sprang to your eyes again, but you forced them back, swallowing down the lump attempting to rise in your throat.
Could you tell him? Could you really, truly trust him with this information? Would it make him look at you differently? Would it make him see you as broken?
âIt justâŚâ You paused, hesitating. âItâs just got some bad memories attached to it, is all.â Then, before you could stop yourself. âDid you know my mom died six years ago yesterday?â
Matt frowned, lips twitching like he wanted to speak.
But you kept going.
âHeart attack. The doctors never saw it coming. I was in my first year of universityâŚâ You swallowed, bitter memories you regularly kept locked away rising to the surface. âI was on the plane when she passedâdidnât even know until my dad met me at the airport.â
Your name drifted from his lips, hushed and sad. It should make you stopâit should make you shove the feelings back into a box, lock them up tight, and forget about them forever. InsteadâŚ
âTwo years later, this great guy came into my life. Smart, funnyâŚâ Almost as handsome as you. You pushed the thought aside and continued. âWe were talking about marriage. Family, kids. We would buy a house on the coast, right next to his parents. We were going to be so happyâŚâ
The memory played out before your eyes. Big house, a dog, 2.5 childrenâyouâd even talked colour schemes, baby names. Had tentatively set a date for just after graduation.
âUntil the doctors thought they found something on one of my routine screenings. Suddenly, âin sickness and in healthâ became a little too close to home. He was sleeping with my best friend before I even had a chance to tell him it was a false alarm.â
By the hard set of his jaw, Matt was less than pleased to hear about your piece-of-shit ex, lips pressed firmly together like he might be trying to keep himself from having a word with him this very moment.
A near-hysterical laugh floated up from your chest, heart ripping apart inside you.
âIt was really a stupidly shitty thing to do on someoneâs birthday, but hey, live and learn I guess. Just gives me one less reason to celebrate. It hasnât been the same since my mom passed anywayâŚâ
His head tilted sharply. âYour birthday is this week?â
A small, pathetic nod tipped your chin. âToday, actually.â
Mattâs jaw worked, expression so pained you thought for a second he might be more hurt by the knowledge than you were.
âAnd then, of course, Iâm stupid enough to play Truth or Dare, get so outrageously drunk that I sleep through my alarm, and if I worked for anyone other than you, I wouldâve been fired on the spot, soâŚâ The headache was splitting your brain in two. You needed an aspirin. âIcing on the cake.â
Walking into the kitchen to dig through your cupboards for the pill bottle and a glass of water, you genuinely hoped Matt would leave it as is. It was stupidânothing but a hard week and an off day and two minutes of word vomiting. Or maybe closer to ten. Either way, you just wanted to keep your head low and forget about this little outburst until the end of the week, when you could cry properly.
Of course, you shouldâve known better than to think Matt would leave it alone.
âOkay, first of all,â he said, following you into the kitchen, âyou would not have been fired from any other job. Youâve been nothing but punctual every other day of the yearâone bad day doesnât scrap a perfectly good record. And secondââ he interrupted your protest with a furrowed brow and his hand raised in the âstopâ position. âYou were not that drunk when you left the office yesterday. What happened?â
You winced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, and you delayed by popping the aspirin in your mouth with a swig of water. When you were finished, Matt was still waiting.
âNothing.â
He scoffed, and you tried not to let it hurt. âNothing?â
âThatâs what I said, Matt.â Whoa, you did not mean for your tone to be so sharp, but there was no stopping it now. âMaybe I had a few more when I got home. Maybe I had a whole case. Maybeââ your voice cracked, and tears pricked your eyes again. âMaybe I just didnât want to think about my dead mother or my cheating ex or the fact that when I took that fucking dare yesterday, I didnât realise I had feelings for you until it was too late. And Iââ Tears flooded the dam, dripping down your cheeks, your words breaking on a sob. âI canât have feelings for you, because all they ever do is get me hurtâŚand I canât handle any more hurt, Matt. I canât! I canâtâ-â
For the second time that day, you dissolved into sobs, the sheer force of pain clefting you in two like a tidal wave.
Through a haze of tears, you watched Matt hesitate, hand flexing, before stepping forward and slowly wrapping his arms around you, keeping you together when you were sure you would fall apart.
The reality of what youâd just confessed washed over you, embarrassment now mixing with the sadness to create a whirl of agonising pain.
You wanted to choke on the feelings.
âIâmâIâm sorry, Matt.â Your words were so garbled, you have no idea how he understood them.
But he did.
âWhat did I say earlier?â he soothed, warm hand stroking up and down your back again. âYou have nothing to be sorry for.â
God, you wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that you hadnât just ruined your career confessing feelings for your boss. Wanted to believe that he wouldnât just slowly disappear from your life, like a ship in the night, fading out of friendship, out of reach of a lighthouse.
Your body bucked and hiccuped, lungs struggling for air through the emotion filling your chest. His arms tightened around you.
âShhh, sweetheart. Shhhh.â His lips graced your hairlineâa soft kiss, tenderâbefore he again rested his chin on top of your head. âItâs okay. Youâre okay. Just breathe, okay?â
You shook your head, the salt-stained fabric of his shirt swishing against your ear. âNo. Matt, I ruined everything.â
âYou didnât ruin anything.â
âI ruined everything!â
Grasping fistfuls of his shirt in shaky hands, you felt his jaw shift atop your head.
âYou didnât ruin anything,â he repeated, voice barely above a whisper. âIâGod, IâŚI shouldâve told you a long time ago.â
You sniffed, wiping the tear stains off your cheeks with his shirt. âTold me what?â
He paused, chest expanding with a breath, like he was preparing himself for something.
âThat IâŚI have feelings for you too.â
âDonât patronize me, Murdock,â you snipped, attempting to push out of his arms, because thatâs just what you didnât need, someone to make fun of the emotions that you already knew were stupid.
He held you fast.
âIâm not. I promise you Iâm not.â The conviction in his voice was almost enough to convince you of the truth on its own. And if it wasnât, his heart racing against your fingertips, chaotic and wild, certainly was. âIâve been in love with you for a long time, sweetheart. IâI just didnât know how to tell you.â
He smiled sheepishly, and the world moved in slow motion.
âYouâŚlove me?â A whisper is too loud to describe the question you breathed, but Matt chuckled, the tips of his ears flushed a dusty shade of pink.
âYeah.â His head tilted, slight crease between his brows, carefully regarding your reaction.
âMatt MurdockâŚâ you breathed, wiping the final few tears off your cheeks and looking up into his red glasses. âThis is the best birthday Iâve had in a long time.â
He frowned. âThen we really need to fix that.â
You laughed, a real, genuine laugh, probably the first one this entire week, and melted back into his arms.
Just as a side-note, I think I'm also going to use this blog to collect fanfictions that I enjoy as well. Kind of like a dual writing-and-reading blog. I'll have separate master lists for different fandoms! I don't have my laptop right now so I'll be making these on my phone, it may end up being wonky... I will also be reblogging other writers I enjoy the work of!
Can I request a Shisui x Reader fic where she feels/knows his clan doesnât like her because she isnât one of them/is a normal shinobi and that makes her think she isnât good enough for him but Shisui finds out about this after an unexpected encounter between her and one of the clan members and he does something about it. Angst to fluff if you can and Iâm so sorry if this is oddly detailed đ if your not comfy with it itâs okay ! Thank you đđ˝
Author's Note: Howdy!!! Just gonna not address the, once again, lengthy absence. I think it'll be better if I just don't acknowledge it and write when I want. Anyways, I went back into my inbox and saw this request that mirrors a WIP I had in my folder, so I figured it would be a first good post back (again). I hope that the anon who requested this sees this post. It's not what I would call my best work, but I hope it's up to snuff. Thank you to my readers. :) Also, has anyone else gotten the Marvel bug from playing Rivals? I've been watching all of the movies and reading comics, I'm probably going to add it to my fandoms list.
Rating: Teen
Warnings/TW: Canon-typical violence, reader is bound, gagged, and blindfolded, reader is buried alive
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Uchiha Shisui x gn!Reader
Word Count: 1534
Summary: Your history in helping Itachi and Shisui stand up to the Uchihas is not appreciated by the clan.
You knew something would happen.
The gossip, the whispers, the blatant disgust. But never this.
It was something you wanted to stave off - you just wanted a chance to live in your little fairy tale for a little while longer.
One of the biggest unspoken rules in the shinobi world was clan above all. This statement never resonated with you, a shinobi from a poor and unnotable family in Konohagakure. Who and who not to interact with, what clothes to wear, your career path, and so much more⌠What was the point, you wondered? It was something you understood logically, even when you went against the strongest clan in Konoha, but the depth of loyalty was something you would never understand.
It was the simpler times of naivety from your genin and chunin years, making friends without a care in the world, that you clung onto as you groaned in a musty, humid pocket under the ground, eyes covered, a gag shoved and tied into your mouth, and hands and ankles bound tight.
This is what you get for fucking with the Uchiha.
It wasnât like you didnât know it was dangerous to have and hold feelings for your team mate and one of the clanâs most prized members, Shisui Uchiha. In school it was alright to nurse a crush - everyone did for him, boys and girls alike. How could they not? He was the popular boy. Endlessly kind, yet one could tell at even such a young age there was something mysterious about him. As you two aged, however, your crush only intensified. Through being placed on the same team as Shisui and his best friend, his familyâs hardships, and your fellow team mate and Shisuiâs best friend perishing violently during a routine mission while still genin. Through the death of your parents to the attack of the Nine-Tailed Fox, your grueling training at the hands of ANBU instructors, and your involvement with Shisui and Itachi to stop the Uchiha uprising all those years ago, saving both of their lives and exposing both the plans of the clan and Danzo. It wasn't the most graceful way to go about it, and made you a lot of enemies.
To be honest, the violence and hatred surprised you. You, a strong outsider and clanless shinobi, seen to have supported two of the most promising Uchiha shinobi into betraying their clan, must have been at the top of their âkillâ list, though. It was a lapse of judgement to forget this and not consider the hatred harbored for your public humiliation of the clan. You did understand the Uchiha, or at least you tried to. Blatantly and falsely accused of the attack that slaughtered countless civilians and shinobi indiscriminately. You didnât blame them, couldnât blame them, especially when you came to know of the open secrets regarding the workings of the village elders and the continued oppression of Konohaâs oldest existing clan. But that doesnât mean you could stand by and watch your village be torn apart.
And all of those choices led to your being buried alive.
While thinking, your breathing through the ragged cloth slowed to a whisper, and you regained focus on your situation. The group of Uchiha shinobi had caught you by surprise during a moment of vulnerability at the memorial you keep of your parents at the lake they used to take you to play at. Your senses were turned off and they silently pounced, swiftly getting you into this situation.
Now, though, you were in mission mode. By the length of time you fell, the hole you were in must have been created by an earth-release jutsu. Digging this deep and cleanly while leaving a pocket for you to suffocate slowly in was certainly the work of a shinobi. Thankfully, you realized as you began to wiggle through the pitch-black, your fingers could still move. It would be possible to escape.
Forming the signs with one hand, you channeled your chakra to your knuckles and struck a devastating blow on the plug of earth. Rocks and gravel scattered around you performed the technique again. This time, the compacted dirt shifted and gave way, rocketing into the air. The force of your strike tugged and ripped the binds at your wrists and they burst apart like a rubber band put under too much tension. With your free hands, you ripped away the gag and blindfold, keeping your head low and eyes squinted against the light while you undid the ties at your ankles.
As your senses recalibrated, you could hear screams and yells up above. Had you blown away the watch? They would all know you got out after your dramatic exit - your battle senses were turned to eleven and rising as you jumped out of the hole.
The fight was, however, over. About twenty or so shinobi bearing the clan symbol of the Uchiha were littered around the crater you emerged from. All subdued, but still breathing and alive, their chakra signatures bearing strong life force. In the center of the fight, was one of the only other people you would have ever expected to come to your aid, shoulders heaving for breath and covered in scrapes, bruises, and ripped clothes.
âShisui.â You muttered, hackles lowering. He was here. He came for you. How did he know what happened?
He called your name, his voice calm on the surface. But the raw emotion underneath cracked your own shell too.
âI could have handled myself,â you said with a smirk as you both approached each other, attempting to diffuse the situation. You didn't expect the vice-grip hug that Shisui gave you, though. It was bone-crushing yet comforting.
âI'm sorry,â Shisui sighed, head resting on your shoulder. âI am so sorry.â
âYou saved me,â you said incredulously. âWhy are you apologizing?â
You could feel his heart rate keep at its erratic pace as you wrapped your arms around his torso and the rumbling of his chest as he spoke. âI'm the reason this happened.â
âNo,â you scolded, wrenching yourself out of his grasp. It was something always unsaid until recently. That Shisui thought he was the one putting you in danger purely by being your friend. Though it never came from his mouth, you knew he blamed himself.
âBut they want you dead because of me. This was the worst one.â Shisui bit his lip in that infuriatingly cute way he always does (only you would be thinking about how your not-partner looks quite handsome scuffed up and distraught over your safety). âI just want to keep you safe, yeah? You helped me and Itachi so much and it feels like the least I could do for my team mate.â
âWould you keep me safe at the cost of losing me?â You questioned, looking into his kind brown eyes as they shifted and darkened. âMaybe I don't want that answer. I'd rather stay in danger like this than lose you.â
Shisui sighed and looked up at the sky, but re-trained his gaze on you and let you continue.
In a rare moment of emotional vulnerability (in hindsight, probably because you had just escaped being buried alive and saved from an ambush afterwards by the man you loved), you grabbed Shisuiâs face and let the words come out.
âI quite frankly don't care what your clan thinks of me. They can keep trying to kill me for what I've done with you and Itachi, but they and their judgement and hatred will never, ever stop me from being with my friends. FromâŚâ You faltered, gulping down the saliva in your mouth and steeling yourself to put words to your feelings.
âFrom the man I love. You, Shisui.â
Your heart thrummed with anxiety, ironically even more so than when you were in your supposed-to-be tomb. Thoughts rushed through your head as your hands fell to your sides and you glanced away. I shouldn't have said that. I just ruined it. Why am I-
A firm grip took your chin and made you look back up. Your eyes were met with raw emotion before you felt Shisuiâs lips crashing into yours. It was a breathtaking, desperate kiss. One you would share with your lover before parting. But this⌠you got the impression immediately that your anxiety was unwarranted. That this was just the beginning.
âAfter all of these years, I never thought you felt the same,â he whispered. âI thought it was foolish to imagine myself with you.â
At that, you burst into laughter, hugging Shisui again while shaking with mirth. âYou couldn't tell? I have been so into you since school!â
The mood was shifted so harshly, but you two went along with it.
âTake this seriously!â Shisui admonished lightly before giggling, embracing you much more gently this time.
After what felt like an eternity in his arms, he brought his mouth to your ear and spoke.
âI love you too.â
You couldn't lie to yourself. You put on a tough face during missions, and it wasn't unearned. You were able to handle even the most precarious and violent battles. But once in a while, it felt good to rely on someone else, too.
Well what's going on? Been a hot minute... depending on your definition of a hot minute. I have had an entire year since I've returned to this blog, though if anyone has been observant I have been on tumblr and accidentally reblogging stuff here instead of my main account. Well, shit happens.
Speaking of shit happening, I kind of just had A Year. To be more descriptive, I joined a community choir, had a throat surgery and learned that ignoring your problems doesn't make them go away it makes them worse, and now I am absorbed in work and trying to re-expose myself to my interests instead of thinking about my job all of the time! So basically I'm aspiring to be those authors who write fanfic while they're giving birth or something, lol. But yeah, nothing groundbreaking happened I just kind of had a mini mental fluxuation for A YEAR and now I think I'm feeling better. So, I'm going to write again.
I'm incredibly sorry for not posting anything for the past year, but it really just kind of slipped by me. I'm going to try my best for it not to happen again without an announcement, but this is such a bad habit of mine. I hope you all can be understanding as I try to change my ways a little bit here.
May I please request headcanons for Naoto, Yu, and Kanji reacting to their S/O having anger issues and snapping when a bully goes too far?
author's note: So, hi y'all! i've had quite a year, i'll make a post later. I wanted to clear out the one or two things I had already finished in my WIP folder, though, so this is my return for now.
rating: teen
fandom: persona 4
pairing: shirogane naoto x gn!reader, narukami yu x gn!reader, tatsumi kanji x gn!reader
word count: 1336
summary: you stand up to your bullies! wish i was this brave when i was in high school and college LOL
Naoto Shirogane
For months, Naoto has heard story upon story about how you have been putting up with crap from a group of people in your club. Itâs all endless, from how they give you backhanded compliments about your skills to them âaccidentallyâ giving you the broken equipment and watching you fail over and over again for their amusement.
Honestly, you werenât even aware of half of the incidents being their fault, Naoto had to be the one to sneak into your club room to investigate and find that your stuff was being tampered with in the first place. She absolutely hated breaking the news to you, but she knew she had to tell you the truth. What wasnât expected, however, was the pure rage that shot through your eyes. Naoto thought there might be sadness, maybe even tears if you were particularly emotionally vulnerable at that moment, but this was so unlike you. âLet me handle it,â is what you told her. She kept her eyes on you from then on.
Which is exactly why she caught the beginning of the incident the next day over lunch. A leader of your club struck up a conversation with you at your desk, and Naoto immediately noticed you were snippy with them. It wasnât until they dealt a snide comment, however, that you slammed your hands on your desk, sending your empty bento flying to the floor and catching the attention of every student in the room.
What came out of your mouth next could be described by Naoto as⌠needlessly vulgar. You tore into the leader, listing off bullying incident after incident in cruel detail, as well as what it said about the leader and their deepest insecurities that they actually did those things. It wasnât for a few moments until Naoto realized that she had helped you put that list together (...sans emotional damage, of course) herself if you ever decided you wanted to go to the principal with the information. Oh, dear, she would think. I really should put a stop to this.
While you were in the process of tearing the club member down with a snide smirk, talking about how âtheir efforts will only set their own club performance and university admissions backâ and âif they wanted attention so badly, well now theyâve got it undivided from the entire roomâ, Naoto took a hold of your wrist and dragged you out of the room, gently sliding the door shut.
Your breathing haggard from anxiety, she would drag you to a barren corner and tentatively hug you for a long time before pulling back and placing her hands on your shoulders, suggesting with a sigh: âIâm proud of you for sticking up for yourself, but next time do not use my data for your vigilante justice? Please?â
Yu Narukami
The last week of school was rough for everyone, but particularly you. On top of winter semester finals, you had to deal with a⌠letâs say, cast of characters that leeched on to whatever insecurity you radiated and made it as much of their problem as it was yours. Underhanded compliments, disguising random rude gifts as acts of kindness⌠Yu especially hated it when they played you into thinking they were your close friends. Couldnât you see that the Investigation Team was more supportive of you than they could ever be? Couldnât you see that he was trying his best to lift you up when all they wanted to do was bring you down?
But Yu isnât about forcing people into their decisions. As much as he has a soft spot for you, heâs going to let you figure this one out yourself, of course with his own support. More times than he could count, Yu listened to your suspicions with an open ear and a sympathetic face, always reminding you of your positive traits. It was the only thing he could think of that would help, but your sorrow turned to anger slowly. Almost too slow for him to notice.
Heâll be clued in real quickly, though, when he sees you flinging a tray of âfoodâ at a group of people crowded around you on the school roof. Heâll be shocked - Yuâs never seen you get violent with anything but Shadows. He seriously thought you didnât have a mean bone in your body. However, he couldnât help but feel a little bit of pride for his partner standing up for themselves. Maybe, you could hold back on the string of curses that flow from your mouth, though!
After this event, when the bullies run off covered in whatever mystery substance they had placed in your lunch box, Yu is there to sit beside you as the weight of your actions hit you.
âI⌠I just threw that shit at them,â you murmured to yourself, barely registering Yuâs presence beside you.
âYou stood up for yourself, he clarified, just sitting down to wrap an arm around your shoulders. âIâm proud of you.â
Kanji Tatsumi
Kanji has always wanted to handle the problem himself. Every time he finds you upset or you have yet another problem with a bully, heâs ready to throw his weight around to close their mouths for you. You always refuse though, with a level of grace that sends Kanji into a fit that he has to tamper down. He wished he could take away every single problem in your life, but he trusted you to do it in the way that was best for you. However, that smile on your face was always there when everyone shit on you. Gleaming, wide, mistakenly joyous. But it never reached your eyes. It wasnât even like Kanjiâs own situation. He chose to look and dress and act the way he does. But you were being bullied for something you couldnât control. It drove him, for lack of a better term, damn crazy. Which is why he was giddy when he caught the scene in front of Yasogami after school that day.
A circle of students were gasping and egging on some sort of event happening in the middle. With his shoulder, Kanji easily wedged into the inner ring, though he seriously couldnât believe what he was looking at when he got there. You were hammering your knee into the stomach of the ringleader of the group of bullies, propping up their body with a fist in their uniform collar to take more blows. In between the crowd's noises, you cried out, "This is what you get for every. Single. Terrible. Hurtful. Word!" Before he could think anything, he was pulling you off of the bully, arms hooked under your shoulders, feet dragging against the concrete and asphalt as Kanji once again split the crowd. This time, it was his mere presence that had people parting easier than Yaso-Inaba's fields of wild grass in a storm's wind.
You didn't struggle against him at all, your limbs just went limp while Kanji carry-dragged you down the pathway to the Samegawa Floodplain. Kanji was proud of you for standing up for yourself. That was the first thing he told you after he sat you on top of his jacket on one of the walkway's benches, misted from the afternoon rain sputter.
Despite his words, your thoughts swirled. What had you just done? You never thought of yourself as the type of person to just⌠snap in public like that, but it happened. The lid on your ugly thoughts and feelings came undone, and you'd let them loose. Kanji settled next to you, placing an incredibly stiff arm across your shoulders as you shoved your face into your hands. "I know I'm notâshit⌠the best person to be lecturin' on this, but," he started, his voice gruff and unsteady, "you stood up for yourself, right? Maybe starting a walloping like that in the school yard might not have been your best moment, but, what I'm trying to say is, y-you did good. In my book, at least."Â
How Genin Naruto, Sasuke, Neji, Hinata, Sakura, Rock Lee react to going on a go mission in a long time and when they return the reader is waiting for them at the gate and is so happy that they are back that he hugs them and ends up knocking them down and doesn't let go of them for a while and stays with them all day. (The reader and they are in love with each other)
author's note: First post in a long time! I took a little bit of a liberty with some of the characters, but the general idea is there for all of them. It was a while since I got this request and I was working off of the material I had written in my Google Drive (and the majority of this request was written two months ago), so if you would like me to rewrite some of the entries please let me know. I can do that. For now, though, I hope you all enjoy!
rating: general
fandom: naruto
pairings: genin!uzumaki naruto x gn!reader, genin!uchiha sasuke x gn!reader, genin!hyuga neji x gn!reader, genin!hyuga hinata x gn!reader, genin!haruno sakura x gn!reader, genin!rock lee x gn!reader
word count: 2038
summary: Greeting the genins when they come back from a long mission!
Uzumaki Naruto
When returning from a week away, Naruto is dorking out to Sasuke, Sakura, and Kakashi about how he totally helped out when the enemy was attacking the three of them. Sakura gets in a word about how he was tussling with cats, not enemy shinobi, before you leapt off a roof onto Narutoâs back.
The unexpected piggyback ride leaves him stumbling and bristling, screaming, âWHO IS THAT?!â In response, you lock your legs around his torso and grip his shoulders through the flailing, giggling like a maniac. When he hears your laugh, Naruto whips his head up to get a glimpse of you and⌠well⌠this has the result youâd think it would.
The back of his head slams into your nose and you release your grip, the two of you now nursing matching wounds as the rest of Team 7 stands off to the side watching the show with deadpan expressions.
âWhat was that for, Uzumaki? I was just trying to say hi!â you would quip, pointing a finger from your free hand at him, your other pressing into your face to quell the pain.
âItâs not MY fault that I was ambushed!â he would yell, pointing back at you. At this point, you two were attracting the attention of the civilians and Team 7 needed to drag you two away forcefully.
After the two of you calmed down, you ended up apologizing for scaring Naruto with your silly prank. He laughs it off and accepts, saying it was an accident and that it was pretty funny and harmless in the end. He even offers you another piggyback ride around the village, this time without the headbutting, which causes your heart to beat a little faster as you accept.
Uchiha Sasuke
As usual after returning to Konoha with Team 7, the only people to greet them at the gate were Sakuraâs parents. Naruto darted off to⌠wherever the hell he goes to cause mayhem, while Kakashi simply vanished into the air, leaving Sasuke to make his way home alone. To the empty Uchiha compound. He always took the long way.
However, this particular day, it seemed that he had a shadow â you. Sasuke knew youâd been following him since about halfway through his walk home, when he spotted your ninja garb through the crowds swiftly taking cover in an alleyway. Half of him was always irked by your insistence that you spend time with him. Didnât you have anything else better to do? But the shameless part of him, the one that yearned for a friend, was thankful that you took the time out of your day to be with him despite his prickly and cold attitude. Besides Team 7, you were the only one that ever kept trying; only you could possibly understand the motives behind that decision. Does he feel guilty about it? Yes, damn it, he does. He should be focused on his goals, not whatever the hell this is. Something in him is healing, though. And tells him to let you in. Just a little bit.
On the threshold of the compound, you stepped from Sasukeâs peripheral and appeared with a bag of treats. âHey, Sasuke!â you greeted with a wide smile. âI saw you got back while I was out in the markets,â You noted the scrapes and bruises over his body, as well as the state of his clothing and his sour expression. âRough mission?â
He would respond with an affirmative noise, taking the bag from your hands and leading the way to his house. There, you would chew his ear off with stories about your training and small missions while he sat in silence, sharpening his dull kunai and shuriken from the mission. The rest of the compound may have been haunted by the ghosts of the massacre, but right now, something in Sasuke felt a little bit at ease in that household for the first time in years as you and him munched on junk food together.
Hyuga Neji
The second that you get word that Team Guy is expected to return from their long-term mission, you plant yourself at the gates to welcome them back. They must be far away, however, since youâve been lounging with the guards for way too long, playing cards and gossiping about practically every other shinobi in the village.
In the blink of an eye, one after another, two flashes of green speed through the gates, leaving clouds of dust billowing. The draft from, assumedly, Lee and Guyâs movements, sent the cards from your game of blackjack spiraling into the air. The chunin assigned guard began lunging for everyoneâs cards to get an upper hand, leaving you to struggle for just your own. You had a damn good hand, too! At least you thought? Of course this would happenâŚ
Tenten shot by soon after, begging for her sensei and team mate to âplease stop this nonsenseâ. It barely occurred to you, though, that the one person you were looking for was still missing as you lunged and grabbed for your cards. Your vision had tunneled up with your head, your gaze flickering to the⌠Huh? Where your cards were once fluttering in the air is now only blue sky.
âHey!â you shouted, whipping your head down and around. âWhich one of you took my cards? Picking on the genin, are you? Howââ
âI have them right here,â a voice snarked from your left, putting five fanned-out cards right over your field of vision. âYou should probably fold soon. Youâve only got seven out of twenty-one. Unless youâre the one that bet that entire pile of chocolate.â
âNeji! Youâre back too!â You snatched the cards from his outstretched hand and turned to the regrouped chunin, throwing your cards down on the dirt face-up. âI fold.â In one fluid motion, you turned and took Nejiâs wrapped forearm in your hand, taking him into the streets of Konoha. He opened his mouth to complain, but not before you shut him right up with a wide smirk, telling him this is exactly what he advised.
Hyuga Hinata
Daring not to sprint with the delicate pastries in your grasp, you walked hastily towards the main entrance of Konoha. Team Eight was supposed to already be there. Have you missed them? Maybe Kiba held them up somewhere along the way following some random animalâs poop scent for a prank. That situation would certainly not be ideal, but at least you would be able to see Hinata the second she got back to the village.
Unfortunately, you seemed to be a little late as you caught her in the shadow of the shopping crowds. You approached in her direct view and waved to make sure she wasnât shocked too much. But you still enjoyed the slight flush of her cheeks and little smile that you could only catch if you were truly paying attention to her.
âHinata!â you called, handing the box to her as she whispered a greeting in return. âI got you these pastries! I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go find somewhere around to hang out and eat them with me?â
âOh!â She reached out and snatched the offering with a swiftness you didnât know she possessed. Still holding it out, Hinata bowed to you with a small âthank you!â coming out before she panicked and took off with an air of sorrow. What you didnât see was her blush shoot up to her ears and down her neck.
âAh! No, I wanted to share them!â you sighed with a laugh, beginning the chase. I wanted to spend time with you! Hinata does, too. She just needs a minute to get that darn blush off of her face! Though, when you do catch up with her and sit down, you note that her ears stayed red the rest of the day.
Haruno Sakura
Sakura really wasnât sure what the heck all of the petals were for. She was initially shocked senseless when her parents werenât there to greet Team Seven. Everyone milled by like they didnât exist. Naruto wanted to drag everyone to Ichirakuâs, but being tired of his nonsense after the past week, Sakura allowed her attention and stride to wander away from the group after giving a half-hearted farewell. When she rounded a corner, a cherry blossom petal in the breeze caught her attention.
She thought it wasnât even cherry blossom season. Was this a genjutsu? Or maybe they were fake. Determined now to find out, Sakura began to follow upwind, the direction from which the petals came from. The further she worked into the forest, the more she was convinced it was a genjutsu â she could smell the cherry blossom. Her hand twitched over her kunai strap as she worked her chakra network overtime to disrupt the illusion.
Awaiting at the destination was what seemed to be a massive pool of the pink petals. If Sakura wasnât convinced this was some sort of trap, she would be in awe of the beauty surrounding her. A completely normal summer forest with a pocket of spring right here.
âYou wonât find any disruptions in your network because thereâs no genjutsu.â You rounded a tree trunk, a picnic basket in hand. âI just wanted to get you away from your team for the rest of the day. Youâve probably had more than enough of them.â
âOh my gosh. Oh my GOSH. You are the best!â Sakura squealed, jumping down from the trees, hugging and twirling you.
You invite her to sit on the blanket of petals you set up, preserves you managed to purchase with your savings from Inoâs familyâs store. (Of course, youâd never tell her that.) It seems like youâre able to guess all of her favorite foods and drinks as you whip them out of the basket comedically, pretending to summon everything like a magician.
Until sundown, the two of you are able to enjoy a relaxing afternoon in the quiet ambiance of the surrounding forests of Konoha, the only noises being your uproarious laughter and soft gossip breaking just over the static of the leaves in the wind.
Rock Lee
(The same beginning situation as Nejiâs, so if itâs familiar, thatâs why!)
The second that you get word that Team Guy is expected to return from their long-term mission, you plant yourself at the gates to welcome them back. They must be far away, however, since youâve been lounging with the guards for way too long, playing cards and gossiping about practically every other shinobi in the village.
In the blink of an eye, one after another, two flashes of green speed through the gates, leaving clouds of dust billowing. You take off after them across the rooftops without thinking, wanting to greet Lee. Vaguely behind you, you can hear Neji and Tenten yelling at them to stop, that their race was supposed to be over at the gate. It took a good few moments before they actually were able to pump the brakes and de-accelerate, kicking up the dirt road.
You, however, purposefully ram yourself into Leeâs back from above like a hawk, giving him a hug that almost puts him out on the ground. âWelcome back! I missed you,â you yell, interrupting his argument with Guy-sensei on who stepped over the threshold first. He greets you warmly after recovering from the shock, returning your hug with just as much vigor. âI am sorry for leaving for so long, but we are back!â
âAh, how wonderful youth is!â You forgot that Guy-sensei was right there, so you withdrew, a bit bashful. âLet me ask you, young (Y/N), who did you see enter the village first? You were there, right?â
You confess that in all honesty, you were not focused on that at all, just the fact that your friends were all back. At this point, Tenten and Neji catch up, ready to give the lecture of a life. Which is why youâre not surprised at all when your ride spins around and takes off to avoid the scolding, laughing and trying to figure out where the two of you want to lead them for a post-mission meal.
As promised. I'm on the hype train. Keep in mind that I'm only at Skypiea right now, and the arc that I am at will be updated periodically in my fandoms section, so that potential requesters will know what characters and events they can reference!
(ace ily set ur heart aglazeđŠđĽ) (yes i know about that dont worry his figure is going next to my rengoku <3)
What's up, everyone! So, my last post was... *checks calendar*
Two months ago??
I'll be real with y'all, I did NOT notice that much time passed. That's on me. But I will let you know what's happened in that time and why I've been away.
Mainly what's been happening is that I graduated university and started a new job, so I have had to:
Shift my sleeping schedule towards the morning, which was a Herculean effort, especially when ya girl's got â¨insomniaâ¨.
Move my entire livelihood back home and unpack from my apartment, which by the way is still not done!
Create an entire financial/budget system since within the span of about two weeks I went from entirely dependent on my parents for everything in my life to completely and utterly independent minus, like, groceries and rent.
Actually work... woo hoo! I do actually like my job, but it's hard. It's an adjustment from my normal way of thinking, so I'm definitely mentally tired by the end of the day.
So yeah, life has been yikes. I have been writing in increments, but not enough. Now that my schedule has adjusted, I anticipate I will be updating more. Now, onto the real reason I made this post:
THANK YOU FOR 50 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!
Omg I cannot believe you guys kept supporting this blog even though I've been MIA for a bit. I'm so grateful for each and every one of you that request, like, reblog, and comment on my little headcanons and fics. I have absolutely no ideas whatsoever for an event, so for the next few days I'll be brainstorming. By next Monday, I will have something cooked up to thank you all! I just wanted to say thank you so much for all of the support, it truly means so much that you all come back for my writing. I'm a deeply unconfident individual, so when people give me validation on my hobby I get all happy and giddy :)
So yeah, that's pretty much all. I have a few requests and my own pieces cooking up in the background. I'll also be making a separate post about a new fandom that I am opening for. So watch out for that! See you soon!
Hello! Just wanted to say that I really liked your P5 headcanons. They were super fun to read. Do you mind if we send in our own ideas, like sending in expansions on your headcanons or sending in our owns? Your headcanons really inspired me and I really want to share them with you. Thanks again and have a great day!
Wait omg I am incredibly flattered to hear that my work was able to inspire you! Yes of course this would be okay, I am more than down to discuss headcanons for any characters that I write for. Collaborative writing is super duper fun, and if any of y'all would wish to do that on my blog I would be deeply honored. I hope you're doing great too, anon, and the rest of everyone that reads this post as well!!!!!!
Could we please get general relationship headcanons for Haru from Persona 5?
author's note: HARU!!!!!!! omgomg I love her so much and I know I'm going to say that about almost every single Persona woman but can you blame me??? Hashino might be a steaming, heaping piece of shit but somehow he wrote some pretty kickass women. I guess a broken clock is right twice a day. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy! :)
rating: teen
fandom: persona 5
pairing: haru okumura x gn!reader
word count: 1068
warnings: canon-typical content
summary: What would it be like to be in a relationship with Haru?
While Haru is a very soft-spoken woman, her convictions are rock-solid. She wants to be at the forefront of her late fatherâs company, and she has no issues asserting herself to do this. However, this doesnât mean that Haru didnât go through a lot to get to this point, especially as a woman who sought to take over a familial position of power at a company in Japan. Because of her abusive ex-fiance, I imagine that Haru would be weary of opening up to someone romantically ever again. Not that she ever âopened upâ to that douche canoe, but an experience like that can really mess with your perception of what romance and love actually is. You would have to work hard to gain her trust and be someone incredibly dependable. Of course, Haru is a bit of an eccentric, so sharing these interests would make her happy, but I think for her sake and comfort, someone stable who she can come to rely on and open up to would be perfect.
As for how Haru is when actually beginning a relationship, I think she would be very traditional and would expect those types of things from you, whether sheâs aware of it or not. Things like expecting you to open the car door for her, push her chair in, pay for the meal, take her coat off, etc. Thatâs the kind of society she grew up around, so thatâs the type of courting sheâs been socialized to expect. To be eased into the idea, if you will, even if she already really likes you. And she does. If you go this route, she would be incredibly flattered that you considered her expectations on how to ask her out. If you outright asked her to be your partner, however, it might fluster her a lot. Werenât there steps to this process? She would think it strange that youâre acting purely off of emotions, but in a way, refreshing and indicative of the new life sheâs decided to live. There wouldnât be anything wrong with either approach for her.
For a first date, I actually think she would want to go to a garden. It sounds pretty obvious for Haru, I know, but sometimes the most obvious answer is the best one! We all know that she adores gardening and everything to do with the cultivation of flowers and crops. If you didnât know Haru very well before dating her, this may very well be the first time you hear her raise her voice beyond her normal tone, explaining facts to you about every flower and plant within the garden. Sheâs like an encyclopedia on this type of stuff, and to you itâs incredibly endearing. The whole time, she holds your hand and swings it up and down as she points out all of her favorite flowers. Remember these.
Haruâs love language would be quality time. Iâm not completely sure what happened to her mom in canon, but I think it can be safely assumed that she was not around for one reason or another as she is never mentioned. Her father was busy with the company as well, leaving her alone from a young age, presumably with teachers at school who were already spread thin among the classroom, or with nannies at home who were only with Haru because they were paid to be with her. They may have come to care about her, but their primary obligation was their job, and while child Haru may not have understood that explicitly, the impact follows her. No one spent much time with her because they wanted to, and Haru craves that. Even if youâre doing work or reading a book or something, do it in the same room as her. Maybe not explicitly cuddling though, not at first. It takes a bit for her to work up beyond holding hands. After youâve been together for a while, though, you wonât be able to peel her off of you. She rests her head on your shoulder and lays in your lap often, begging for you to pet her hair with no shame. It means the world to her that you would choose to spend time in her presence, and even more when you actively do activities with her. This is because if you choose to do so, the conclusion she would draw is that you definitely arenât with her just for her money, youâre with her for her. I like to think she would love doing jigsaw puzzles or just taking walks around the neighborhood she lives in. I was considering giving her gift giving as her love language actually, but I figured that as a child of a rich CEO, Haru probably had her âloveâ bought all the time by her father and later, her ex-fiance. If you give her gifts, make sure itâs something incredibly thoughtful, like her favorite flowers/something you made yourself, or something sheâs morbidly curious about, like a true crime book or real animal bones.
Seeing as the Phantom Thieves are the only people Haru is close to after her fatherâs death, she would definitely introduce you to them. Sheâs not above radiating a threatening aura to them to behave around you, so you definitely donât have to deal with the antics of Ryuji and Ann at first. She does really care about getting their approval on whether they like you or not, since she does highly respect their opinions and them as people. However, in the end Haru has learned through her life not to rely on the decisions of others in her own life, so she wouldnât make any decisions about you based on what her friends say.
Overall, look forward to a mostly calm and very wholesome relationship with Haru. Due to the path she has taken in her life, it will be necessary to ensure that you can support her through her unique hardships as a majority shareholder in a major company. Whatever you give into the relationship, though, Haru gives back ten thousand-fold, ensuring that you never feel alone and that you are just as taken care of as she feels with you. You will have your own responsibilities as the partner of an Okumura, but there are a lot of adventures ahead of you two and that fills both you and Haru with precious optimism for the future.
Genin Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Rock Lee, Neji, Gaara how they react to the reader awakening their sharingan because of their love for them. Feel free to create any scenario.
author's note: My glorious return after finals and moving!! I hope you all are doing wonderfully! I'm going to be clearing out my inbox, and as I haven't been inundated with requests, they have remained and will remain open. I hope you enjoy this one, I actually went wayyyy too far writing it and had a lot of fun. It is also incredibly not proofread since I want to get stuff out after being gone for a little while :( please enjoy y'all
rating: teen
fandom: naruto
pairing: genin!uzumaki naruto x gn!reader, genin!uchiha sasuke x gn!reader, genin!haruno sakura x gn!reader, genin!rock lee x reader, genin!hyuga neji x gn!reader, genin!gaara x gn!reader
word count: 3940 (!!!!!!)
warnings: canon-typical violence/content
summary: Different scenarios for an Uchiha!reader on how they awaken the Sharingan for their crush.
You are half-Uchiha, though you were raised outside of the clan and your heritage kept a secret. Therefore you were missed during the massacre. No one knew of your heritage except your mother, your non-Uchiha parent, the only one left after your fatherâs death in the field as a shinobi. There was even hope that you would never awaken the Sharingan, therefore fully masking your status forever. Those hopes were, however, unfounded.
Team 7 Scenario
In the Forest of Death, you are separated from your team with possession of the Scroll of Heaven. A team from an enemy village ambushes you, and at first, you stand no chance. They absolutely demolish you beyond recognition, though youâre able to get solid hits in as you are a quite talented genin. While taking the scroll afterward would suffice for their goals, they decide that they are going to off you to get it for fighting back too much.
In that moment, you feel fear. Youâre about to die. Rage. You couldnât fight back properly enough to defend your teamâs scroll. Hatred. Towards the ninja who are going to kill you for something so senseless. And the last thing that flashes through you is⌠love. Your crush, the person that holds your affections, one you want to see again and again forever. These feelings light fire to your eyes, and when the one pinning you down is about to stab at your throat, you⌠seem to gaze into the future. Itâs blurry, but you see exactly how to avoid it with your limited energy and battered body. Right as you dodge and the kunai plants into the soil, someone comes out of the trees and begins to attack your to-be-killer.
Uzumaki Naruto
Naruto hears the commotion and takes off, forcing Team 7 to follow him. There, he sees you dirty and bleeding, pinned to the ground with a kunai at your throat. On his watch, no one is going to harm one of his friends, least of all you. Without thinking he would form two Shadow Clones and send them after the teammates standing guard, his actual body launching towards you. But he thinks heâs too late. The kunai jabs down towards your throat. He jumped too late. Dread fills his veins, but that is immediately replaced with relief once you muster the energy to duck out of the way. After tackling your assailant and getting them on the ground, he tried to make eye contact with you to assure you that youâre going to be okay. Thatâs when he catches a glimpse of your red eyes with one black spec offset from the pupil.
Okay, woah, he totally thought Sasuke was the only one who would be able to awaken the Sharingan. After all, the only other people he knows of that have it are Itachi, who is also an Uchiha, and Kakashi, who told Team 7 that it was a âgiftâ from an Uchiha friend. Therefore he is understandably incredibly confused. The rest of Team 7 arrives and helps the Shadow Clones route the team that attacked you. Your team arrives as well, and you all thank Naruto and the rest for coming to your aid and defending your scroll. Secretly, your heart is leaping in joy. You canât believe Naruto saved you in two ways â helping you awaken your Sharingan and taking care of the other ninja for you.
Itâs here where Narutoâs incessant gazing into your eyes is noticed by yourself and the rest of the people there. You blush, thinking, Oh, heâs looking right into my eyes! His are so pretty, I wonder if he thinks the same of me⌠oh, no. Now that he feels everyoneâs gaze, his gaping mouth shuts and he says to you, âNo way you have the Sharingan, that is so cool!â Genuinely, he would think itâs awesome. Like, you must be a super cool, awesome ninja to get it, even if you already have the potential. The others would just be stunned silent. This makes you nervous, as well as relieved. Naruto doesnât think any less of you for it, thankfully, but it looks like youâll have some explaining to do. No one questions you yet, though, thereâs a mission to finish.
With your Sharinganâs new skills, your team is able to acquire a Scroll of Earth and complete the second round of the exams. In the waiting room for the preliminaries, Naruto approaches you and just stares you in the eyes with wonder. Again you feel the heat of embarrassment and infatuation wash over you, and you give him a slight nod and a smile. He focuses more on your amused expression and blushes, muttering about how cool you were back in the forest. Still shaken, you give him a quivering smile and thank him for the help, holding out your hand for a handshake. Eagerly, Naruto accepts.
Uchiha Sasuke
Along with the other members of Team 7, who he was originally chasing but was now leading, Sasuke caught a glimpse of your haggard body fighting back against the wounded but fresh shinobi. For a second he allowed himself to think that it was somewhat unexpected that you would have the gusto to take on all of these enemies and still survive, even after being put under the knife. Something in him admires you for it, though. Sasuke would perform the Phoenix Flower Jutsu to separate each member of the opposing squad from each other, so Team 7 could pick them off easily. This is when he caught a glimpse of your eyes, a one-tomoe Sharingan floating within them.
What? Huh? Sasuke and Itachi were the last Uchiha. He was effectively his clanâs only member. What the hell were you doing with what seemed to be a freshy-awakened Sharingan right now? Genuinely, it angered Sasuke. He would single handedly drive away the enemies in anger and stalk up to you. Youâre happy at first that Sasuke is going to talk to you, but when you register his expression, your slight smile falls into a frown. He looks pissed. At this point, your team is just arriving and holds Sasuke back as he yells at you, your body reflexively flinching back. âWhere did you get those eyes? Who the hell are you?!â
Yeah, what a way to figure out that your secret Uchiha heritage was actually showing itself. Naruto and Sakura apologized for Sasukeâs behavior as he thrashed out of your teamâs grip and stalked off. After that experience, you and your team were too shaken up to fight properly and ended up failing the Forest of Death stage. The whole time, you keep thinking to yourself about Sasukeâs reaction. Did he hate you now? Before, he was neutral to you, if a little sour like he was with everyone else. But thatâs just how he was with his friends, and you knew that his friends were incredibly important to him, even though he would never admit it. You genuinely feared that your connection to his clan and the secrecy surrounding it being shattered as it was would cause an unmendable rift between you two.
While observing the fights, Sasuke came up to you. With anxiety and hope, your heart beat hard in your chest. Sasuke would start: âThe two turds are forcing me to apologize to you for freaking out, so sorry. But your Sharingan. Where the hell did it come from?â You take Sasuke away to explain the entire situation to him with a shaky voice. How you have had to live with the pain of the massacre in silence, how you couldnât say a word to one of the boys who could understand and needed someone to understand. At the end of your explanation, you realize with a gulp youâre still holding his wrist in a death grip, but he doesnât make a move to break free. And his gaze is neutral⌠no, thereâs a small hint of pain and sympathy there. You return the look, the two of you sitting with the painful truth that now stirred between. Sasuke wasnât alone. He had someone left that wasnât a genocidal maniac. Itâs an incredibly foreign feeling to have a comrade in suffering. He recognized that it felt comforting and cathartic. But maybe you feel the same and can help him with his goalsâŚ?
Haruno Sakura
Sakura is paralyzed the second she hears your yell. Are you in trouble? You must be! The team is already headed in the direction she heard you, so her eyes are wide open and plastered below the branches to spot you out. From above, she sees you almost get stabbed, and screams. Naruto and Sasuke look back at her and then down to the fight. Sasuke wonders if they should interfere, while Sakura and Naruto have already lept down and engaged. Sakura is able to quickly identify the leader of the team and cast a genjutsu on the ninja, the one that you avoided the stab of. Their eyes widen and dart around, seeing something no one else could, before they scamper into the woods. The other two are taken care of by Naruto and Sasuke. While they fight, Sakura comes up to you and puts her hands on your shoulders to stabilize your panting body, running her hands down to your wrists to pull you up. âAre you okay?â she would ask, looking into your eyes and seeing red. If you werenât catatonic, her actions would have you in a state of bashfulness.Â
Your eye color changed⌠are you bleeding? It must be an injury. But no, itâs different. Your sclera would be red as well. She took a closer look at your thousand-yard stare. Your irises were a defined scarlet. With a⌠tomoe. Just like Sasuke had. So you have the Sharingan? But youâre not an Uchiha, as far as Sakura knows. She waves her hand in front of you to snap you out of your haze, the Sharingan retreating into your eyes. âWha⌠what happened?â you stuttered, obviously taken aback by the ordeal. You would explain the situation, Naruto and Sasuke rendezvousing with your team in the background.
âHow do you have that?â Sakura would ask you, her expression wrought with concern. Curiosity sparkled through her eyes, though. It was genuinely adorable. So, you would tell her your story. Sakura hugs you in the middle of it, which stops you mid-sentence, forcing you to regain composure before continuing. Her embrace was warm and kind, completely uncharacteristic of her fiery attitude that you adored. Still, it suited her. And made your thoughts creep to a halt. All you could think about was how soft and comfortable you were in her arms, especially as she says to you, âDonât die on me like that, alright, bozo?â
Team Guy Scenario
As a special assignment while your jonin sensei was on an S-rank mission, your team had been split up and assigned to other genin squads to perform missions with. This was in order to ensure that you all could work together with more than just your own squad. As the assignments went out, you internally cheered when it was announced that you would be with Team Guy. After all, your crush was on that team, and this mission could be your chance to show off. However, those hopes were dashed when you met up with them at the gate and your mission was explained. The five of you were to provide security at a minor lordâs party. So, no talking once you got there, separate assignments at separate locations, the works of a guarding mission. Due to this, you were a little grumpy on the way, though the rest of the team chalks this up to you not being pleased to have to work outside of your team.Â
You and Team Guy arrive at the large mansion holding the party, greeted by the head of security of the family. You are all instructed to take up separate positions, but in an act of divine intervention, you are teamed up with your crush.
Rock Lee
Rock Lee is elated that he gets to spend the entire mission with you. After all, you are the lady of his affections. Before your formal assignment, Lee convinces you that it would be helpful to assist the servants in setting up for the party, and you eagerly agree for more excuses to chat with him about anything. You two end up laughing about the oddities of the mission, like how your employer hasnât even shown their face yet, or how some of the decorations youâre setting up were incredibly gaudy and weird. Laughing so casually with Lee makes you feel butterflies in your stomach.
The mirth of the night is interrupted in time, however. Festivities are in full-swing and you are standing guard at the entrance with Lee, exhausted after having to put up with curious guests that have never met shinobi before. A shadowy figure unexpectedly leaps from the treeline onto the roof of the building. âDonât worry, Iâll check it out!â Lee would say, leaping before you had a chance to argue. You assumed he was going to stake out the roof to see what was going on and report back to you. A minute passed. Then five, then ten with no Rock Lee in sight. Worry began to creep into your thoughts. What happened? Was he still following the figure, or did he meet up with Neji on his patrol?
Your questions were not unanswered for long, however, when Lee rocketed off of the roof from a wind style jutsu and hit the ground with a sickening thud. Panic rose in your chest. You had to help him. Smoke rose into the air from your smoke bomb, signaling to the others outside that something went awry. In an instant your body was shielding Leeâs, a kunai held in front of you to deflect the katana of the assailant. They leapt down and engaged you in a flurry of taijutsu and kenjutsu blows. In what seemed like an instant, you were bested. So fast, you would think, the exchange seemed like it was only a second. The assailant charged at you, but before you could deflect with a punch, he had your arm in his grasp. His grip was shattering. No. No, no, no. You wanted to protect Lee. You werenât even sure if he was alright right now. True fear blossomed in your chest while you struggled to release the assailantâs grip. You could do nothing. You were helpless. In that moment, the flush of emotions seemed to pause time, and you saw Neji leap from the roof. He floated down behind your attacker and seemed to tap him with his palm.
Time rushed forward again, and once you realized that Neji neutralized the attacker, you immediately spun around to tend to Lee. His eyes were peaking open, meeting yours immediately. Rasping your name, he would say to you, âIs that⌠the Sharingan?â This would throw you into another fit of panic. Lee recognizes this and reaches a hand shakily up to your face while your healing ninjutsu does its work. âYouâre very pretty,â he says. âThey suit your face magnificently.â
Hyuga Neji
You and Neji are assigned to do patrols around the surrounding treeline. The night is quiet and Neji doesnât pick up on any oddities with his Byakugan. So, you talk. About everything and nothing. In the boredom of the situation, he does not speak. You continue to try to strike up conversation, but are continuously cut off. There is a misunderstanding here. You think the mission is kind of pointless and that nothing threatening will show up, but Neji always carries out his missions with the utmost focus.
Therefore, when an enemy ninja comes up behind you to strike, you donât even notice since youâre prodding Neji about something inconsequential that youâve forgotten two seconds later, disoriented and kicked off of the blade that pierced your back into your shoulder, bleeding out onto the nearby rooftop of the mansion. Your perception blurred. The stars drew trails in the sky. Nejiâs Palm Rotation seared into your vision after a moment, presumably incapacitating the attacker as he immediately came to your side to assist you. By that time, you were coming to, pressure being put on your wound and remedial medical ninjutsu being applied.
Neji would ask if you were alright, but your hearing still wasnât back, just your sight. Why⌠your sight? What was that behind you two? A figure was sneaking behind Neji. You tried to cry in warning. He was too busy focusing all of his energy on not harming you with his chakra, however. He needed to keep a perfect balance on the technique he had yet to master in order to ensure your safety. Nothing came from your throat. It was cracked. Dry. Barren. Only a squeak came. The figure smirked. You met its glare, focusing all of your fear and determination towards it. It couldnât hurt Neji. Not while he was helpless, trying to save you.
Before either of you could register anything, the ninja slumped to the ground. One second in a focused and trained sneak attack stance, the next crumpled and prone. Neji stopped healing, your wound almost entirely closed, to prepare to fight, but all he saw was someone incapacitated. His gaze found its way back to you, where it met the Sharingan. Neji found this illogical. Immediately his Byakugan were active, scanning your chakra network and his own for any sign of a manipulation jutsu or genjutu. There was none. âYou possess the Sharingan?â he would gently prod. You would, of course, panic, knowing that this made complete sense and definitely outed your heritage. Still weak from the blood loss, though, you couldnât really go anywhere. âDonât worry, your secret is safe with me. I somewhat know what itâs like. Let me properly apprehend the enemy under genjutsu so that I can take you back to the others and report the situation.â
Enjoy your op children if you can stop him from dying. Yes, they can have both the Byakugan and the Sharingan.
Hidden Sand Scenario - Gaara
Shortly after the Uchiha massacre, your mother moved the two of you to the Land of Wind, specifically Sunagakure, to protect you from any persecution that may result if you were discovered. Frequently, you experienced the rampages of the One Tails, one of them tragically claiming your motherâs life. Despite this, you didnât blame the Kazekageâ son, Gaara. Everyone knew the truth about Naruto in Konoha, and your mother was one of the few who knew that jinchurikis were victims but had to keep silent about it for safety concerns. Nothing of note ever occurred with your relationship with Gaara, however, you were just genins at the same time and did training together. His attitude was off-putting for a long time and you werenât really sure if you liked him all that much. You couldnât help thinking about him in your spare time, though, and bringing attention to yourself by standing up to villagers soiling his name. Just what exactly was he to you? Just someone to observe from afar?
Your team wasnât recommended to the chunin exams in Konoha, and you were kind of happy. It would protect you from danger, even if your mentor didnât know it. There was no knowledge of the Konoha Crush from your end either, not at least until Gaaraâs team came back. He was⌠changed, you noticed. Not so angry. Something within him was at peace. He was acting strangely. Attempts to be kinder than before were made. You actually had a conversation with him about how the exams went. The story was, well, you could tell it was sanitized, but it seemed like someone from Konoha was able to change something within Gaara. Not something inherent about him, but like they healed him. In fact, you two spoke for the first time ever. He was actually quite kind. Gentle. You ignored the stares you got from the villagers by hanging out with him and his siblings more and more. And when a summons for a mission appeared, you snuck out to join them, even if it was to Konoha. Gaara, Temari, and Kankuro reprimanded you at first, believing that you were not fit for the mission, but you convinced them to let you stay, stating that you would support them with the poisons and healing elixirs that you learned to make from Lady Chiyo over the past few months.
Eventually, you had all split up, you and Gaara headed towards perhaps the worst fight on the battlefield. One against an opponent you learned was named Kimimaro, the leader of the Sound Five. On the way there, Gaara had little to tell you. âLet me handle him. You stay back and heal anyone who is injured.â While slightly frustrated, you agreed, knowing that would be your greatest use against such a strong opponent. The battle was already grueling, and you learned a little more about Gaaraâs time in Konoha. He had an altercation during the chunin exams with the ninja who you were currently healing, Rock Lee. While not an experienced healer yourself by any means, you could tell that the damage he sustained those months ago was⌠horrific. It sent a shudder down your spine to know that Gaara was capable of consciously doing that, not just Shukaku, but you suppose you always knew that anyway. He was a sickeningly strong shinobi responsible for horrific acts. But you always saw a scared kid with a demon inside of him.
As you were lost in thoughts, your eyes drifted upwards, catching something quite frightening. Kimimaroâs bones were protruding through his skin and attacking via growth and manipulation. You wished you had time to process just how disgusting this was, but before the thought crossed your mind, you saw the bones piercing Gaaraâs sand shield. This, of course, sent sheer panic through you. It was supposed to be impenetrable. Nothing could get through it. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Without thinking, you abandoned Leeâs wounds and leapt at Kimimaro to distract him, hoping your attack would allow Gaara to land the finishing blow before anything dangerous got through his ultimate defense. For a moment, you wondered why you had moved so automatically. What drove this action? Fear for Gaara? That had to be it, but why? There wasnât time to think. Without noticing your vision sharpen immensely, you pulled out a poison-tipped kunai and neared the fight. Of course, with your anger, Kimimaro and Gaara noticed you immediately. You swiped with reckless abandon, stabbing through an auxiliary bone before being pinned through to a tree branch. Before passing out, you heard Gaara growl and scream.
When you came to, you were in an all-white room, a girl with pink hair on one side of you and Gaara on the other, holding your hand. You met his eyes and all the words were exchanged in one glance. A scolding, an apology. An expression of gratitude. When she left, he started speaking. The first words out of his mouth, however, scared you greatly, especially considering where you must be. âYou awakened the Sharingan. Can you explain to me?â You very quietly spilled the information to Gaara, and he somewhat sympathized with the persecution you must fear facing. âI promise I will get you back to Suna without issue. Thank you for coming to Konoha with me and my siblings, despite how afraid you must have been.â
would u be okay with writing something nsfw for shisui đŤŁđŤŁ
p.s i luv ur writing đđ
Hi! So, in my rules I do not do any NSFW whatsoever for now. I believe they're linked in my pinned, but if they're not I'll fix it right away. This likely will not be entirely permanent, but this also isn't a promise. I'm an incredibly prudish woman... I apologize. You may have been the anon that sent the request a bit ago as well, and I do actually have a fic cooking up inspired by it, but SFW. I really hope you understand!
Thank you so much for the compliment on my writing, I really do appreciate each and every one ^^
EDIT: I just now realized that in my rules I didn't actually specify that I did not write NSFW. This is a mistake on my part and I apologize. I updated the post to reflect this change. I'm still relatively new to this, so please be patient with me as I iron out these mistakes!
Wow! It's a good thing you prioritised your life first because you have so much to do! Please take care of yourself and don't forget to rest!
Thank you, I really appreciate that y'all understand ;)
I'm about to post the next request that I have finished, and hoooo boy is it a beefy one! They should be flowing pretty steadily from hear on out for the time being!