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Summary: Law isnât good with words. But after finding himself thinking about the quiet ways his father used to show love to his mother, Law decides to try something different.
You sat at the table with Penguin and Shachi while Bepo lay sprawled comfortably across your lap, quietly enjoying the way your fingers scratched through his soft fur. Your fingers moved lazily through the white fluff, and the large polar bear instinctively shuffled closer, fully embracing his role as an oversized stuffed animal.
From across the room, Law watched you.
There was something soft in his gaze, something thoughtful. The corners of his lips threatened to curl into a smile.
The truth was, he had always had a weakness for cute things. And for quite some time now, he had considered you to be the cutest of them all.
You in your warm, soft pajamas. You peeking into his office late at night carrying a fresh cup of coffee and something to eat. Sometimes it was hot chocolate instead, accompanied by yet another attempt to convince your doctor, your captain, and your boyfriend to try the sugary disaster despite his constant insistence that he âwasnât really into sweets.â
You, always willing to listen whenever he rambled about a new medical discovery, your eyes bright with interest and your smile completely genuine. Even when he talked about things the crew would relentlessly tease him for, like his comic books or his coin collection, you never looked bored. Not once.
He found your clumsiness endlessly endearing too. Somehow existing within the same person capable of deadly combat and flawless strategy. It reminded him painfully of someone from his pastâsomeone just as warm and sincere.
Though you were considerably less accident-prone, he had to admit.
He still hadnât found the strength to tell you about that person.
Truthfully, there were many things about his past he hadnât managed to share yet. You had probably pieced fragments together already through conversations, things overheard from the crew, and your own intuition. Your relationship was still young enough that there were chapters of each otherâs lives left unread, but old enough that neither of you needed every detail to understand the other.
He loved finding you curled up in the library with a book, or half-asleep in bedâsometimes your own, sometimes hisâwaiting for him to finally stop working and come lie down too.
He loved the spark that lit your eyes whenever the two of you visited museums in whatever city the crew temporarily docked at. The conversations about paintings, writers, history, myths. The way your excitement spilled into every topic you touched.
And he loved your affection for sweet things.
Especially, as you constantly reminded him, for him.
âThe sweetest thing of all.â
Every single time, it earned an exasperated eye roll, ears tinged pink beneath the brim of his hat, and a desperate attempt to change the subject or stare intensely at the nearest wall.
Sweet. Sweet. Sweet.
Law wasnât always fond of revisiting the past. It followed him regardless of where he went, a shadow he had never quite managed to outrun.
But that evening, his thoughts drifted to his family.
To his father.
He remembered the way his father would surprise his mother with bouquets of the freshest flowers he could find. There was always a small note tucked among the stems, usually containing only a few words, yet somehow capable of bringing an even brighter smile and a blush to her cheeks.
Sometimes his father would return home early from work, a near impossibility for a doctor as respected as he had been, simply because he wanted more time with his wife and children.
Law remembered him helping around the house without being asked. Cooking lunch. Washing windows. Dusting shelves. Even the smallest, most ordinary little acts had been woven together with care and affection.
The captain found himself yearning for that too.
Love didnât always have to be spoken.
Perhaps that was why the memories lingered.
Because words had never been his strongest point.
He loved you.
God, he loved you.
There was never any doubt about that.
Yet sometimes it felt as though an unbearable invisible weight sat heavily across his shoulders, preventing him from taking that final step and showing you every ounce of tenderness he carried for you.
And there was so much tenderness. More than he knew how to express.
He only hoped you knew that already.
So he started small.
Just as you were about to leave your room and march down the corridor to his office and force your chronically sleep-deprived boyfriend into getting at least a tolerable amount of rest, the door slid open.
Law stood there holding two mugs of hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and two books tucked beneath one arm.
âI figured you could use about three hundred milliliters of concentrated sugar shock right now.â
His voice was as flat as ever, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. One corner of his mouth twitched upward as he stepped inside.
You blinked.
Before you could say anything, he crossed the room, placed one of your favorite books in your lap, and set the mugs on the nightstands on either side of the bed.
A moment later he slipped beneath the blankets beside you. Without a word, he nudged you gently against his shoulder and opened his own book.
You stared at him. Then at the hot chocolate. Then at him again.
ââŠAre you feeling alright?â
Law snorted.
âUnfortunately.â
You laughed, and the sound alone made the strange fluttering sensation in his chest feel worthwhile.
A few mornings later, you woke to something even stranger.
Instead of waking up alone in bed while Law disappeared into another round of research before sunrise, you woke up wrapped tightly in your loverâs arms, his hands resting securely around your waist.
For a long moment, you simply stared.
It wasnât unusual to fall asleep together.
It was unusual to wake up together.
Usually, by the time dawn painted pale streaks across the submarineâs metal walls, he had already disappeared into his office to bury himself beneath stacks of notes and medical journals.
As though he sensed you stirring awake, he pulled you even closer, a sleepy sound escaping him.
Then he buried his face deeper into your hair.
âKeep sleeping.â
His voice was muffled against your head.
âWeâre comfortable like this.â
You smiled despite yourself.
âCaptain, are you cuddling me?â
âNo.â
âYou literally have me trapped.â
âItâs a strategic embrace.â
A laugh escaped you.
The vibration of it made him pull you even closer. He inhaled slowly, catching the familiar scent of coconut and mango from your shampoo.
Warm. Comforting. Home.
For once, neither of you moved.
On another morning, you walked into the kitchen expecting to begin preparing breakfast for the crew since it happened to be your turn.
Instead, you found Law already there.
The counters were occupied by ingredients, dirty bowls, and evidence of what could only be described as organized chaos. He was in the middle of arranging food onto plates.
When he noticed you standing in the doorway, he immediately became very interested in the knife he was holding.
âI couldnât sleep. Thought Iâd make things easier for you.â
His eyes flicked toward yours, nervous despite himself as he waited for your reaction.
Your entire face lit up and you immediately walked up to shower him with kisses..
Before he could retreat, you crossed the kitchen and threw your arms around his neck.
âLaw!â
You kissed one cheek.
Then the other.
Then his jaw.
Then his forehead.
The poor man nearly short-circuited.
He blushing so hard it was almost concerning, grumbling under his breath and pretending to complain the entire time.
Heat rushed straight to his ears.
âH-Hey.â
Another kiss.
âCut it out.â
Another kiss.
âIâm serious.â
Another.
You finally pulled away enough to see his face.
Bright red.
Absolutely mortified.
And cute. Very cute.
Law muttered something incoherent under his breath and turned back toward the food as if the frying pan had suddenly become the most fascinating object in the world.
You only laughed harder.
The gifts continued.
Whenever the Polar Tang docked somewhere for supplies and circumstances forced you to stay behind to guard the submarine, your Surgeon of Death always returned with something for you.
A rare edition of a book.
A dress heâd spotted in a shop window.
A local dessert from a bakery tucked away in some side street.
A trinket tied to the history of the island.
Something thoughtful, chosen specifically for you.
He never made a big deal out of it. Usually heâd leave the gift beside you with a muttered explanation before pretending it wasnât important.
Once, he returned with a shirt he clearly intended for you to sleep inâa design modeled after the tattoos stretched across his chest.
He didnât even stay long enough to watch you open it.
The second he dropped the bag onto the couch beside youâwhere you sat listening to yet another one of Penguinâs ridiculously long jokesâhe turned on his heel and marched straight back to his office.
He did not wait to watch you open it.
His stomach was performing acrobatics the entire way there. His pulse wouldnât settle and something beneath his ribs felt unbearably strange.
Fifteen minutes later, a knock sounded at his door.
Then it opened.
You stepped inside wearing only your robe and the shirt.
Law glanced up and promptly forgot how breathing worked.
The oversized black fabric disappeared beneath your bathrobe, but the familiar tattoo design stretched across your chest exactly as heâd imagined.
Heat rushed violently up Lawâs neck, spreading over his ears and across his cheeks in seconds.
âH-Hey⊠what are you doing?â he asked, heart pounding so hard he was convinced it might burst straight through his ribs and sink the entire submarine.
You smiled at him from beneath your lashes.
âI wanted to show you how much I like my gift.â
You walked over slowly, placing both hands on his shoulders before covering his face in kissesâhis jaw, cheek, forehead, eyes, eyebrows, nose, and finally his lips.
By that time whatever remained of his composure had surrendered completely.
He deepened the kiss immediately.
Strong arms wrapped around your waist before sliding lower, lifting you effortlessly into his lap and pulling you flush against him.
When the kiss finally broke, his forehead rested against yours.
âI like it too,â he whispered against your mouth, the corners of his lips curved slightly.
âEspecially on you.â
The following week, the Polar Tang surfaced near a small coastal town.
For once, there were no emergencies and the crew scattered to enjoy the rare sunlight however they pleased. Some swam. Others wandered into town. Some napped on deck, read books, or simply enjoyed the fresh air before the submarine inevitably returned to the dark depths below. Some headed into town.
You and Bepo claimed a comfortable spot on deck and spent the morning enjoying the warmth.
Law had gone into town on urgent businessârestocking ingredients for his medicinesâbut insisted he wouldnât be long and that there was no need for you to come with him.
Bepo had strangely supported this argument with suspicious enthusiasm.
Still, you didnât think much of it. Days like this were rare.Â
At some point, Bepo wandered off to grab cold lemonade while you stayed stretched out in your chair, eyes closed, listening to the waves and feeling the ocean breeze brush softly against your legs.
Everything felt peaceful.
Then suddenly, a tall shadow blocked the warmth of the sun.
You peeked over your sunglasses and found your beautiful, impossibly tall boyfriend standing over you, holding an enormous bouquet of peonies in soft pastel shadesâsoft pink, white, creamy, pale lilac. Petals layered like clouds.
Your breath caught.
âTheyâre beautiful,â you whispered, eyes shining as you buried your nose into the sweet floral scent. âHow did you know these were my favorite?â
Law watched you quietly.
His expression softened.
Heâd known because months ago youâd stopped in front of a flower stall and spent nearly ten minutes admiring peonies.
You hadnât realized heâd noticed, but he did of course.
Law noticed everything about you.
âLucky guess,â he replied quietly, watching you instead of the flowers.
You narrowed your eyes.
âLiar.â
He shrugged.
Your fingers brushed against a folded note tucked between the stems.
The moment you noticed it, Law swallowed hard.
Suddenly he felt far more nervous than he had facing emperors, marines, or sea monsters.
Slowly, you unfolded it and three words stared back at you.
I love you.
You looked up at him immediately, startled and flushed pink.
Then Law exhaled.
âI mean it,â he said before you could speak.
âEven if saying it out loud is hard for me sometimes. I love you. Breathing feels easier when youâre around. I sleep better beside you. You make every day better.â
He continued before courage could abandon him.
âEverything is better.â
The vulnerability in his expression nearly broke your heart. And he swallowed thickly.
âSorry if Iâm not always good at showing it.â
Tears gathered in your eyes before you could stop them and you laughed softly and shook your head.
âI love you too, idiot,â you whispered, hugging the bouquet tighter. âVery, very much.â A tear escaped despite your smile.
âAnd trust meâyou show it plenty. I never want you to stop.â
Something warm settled inside his chest. The anxious knot heâd been carrying all morning finally unraveled.
âI donât plan to.â
He carefully took the bouquet from your arms and placed it on the lounge chair beside you, You could put them in a vase later.
You were probably the loudest person on the Grand Line.
You laughed, fought, and loved with all your heart.
And somehow, for reasons no one could understand, you'd fallen in love with the most emotionally repressed pirate alive.
Trafalgar Law.
The alliance between Luffy, Law, and Kidd was supposed to be professional. Then you met Law.
The problem wasn't that he was handsome. Or his tattoos, or his hat, or the way he looked down on everyone.
The problem was his reactions. Or rather, the lack of them.
No one around you remained calm.
Except Law. Which completely captured your attention.
But despite all of that, Law genuinely liked you somehow. And he hated that. You were loud, reckless and chaotic.
He preferred plans, preparation and silence.
Yet somehow every time you entered a room, his attention followed you.
The thing about loving someone out loud was that you never hid it. You kissed his cheek in front of everyone or smiled beside him while holding his hand.
Law, despite keeping a straight face, secretly adored it.
What no one expected about your relationship with Law was that neither of you were jealous in a normal way. You were both terrifying about it. Only in completely different ways. You would push or threaten to hit anyone who came near him.
Law wasnât any better. Actually, he might've been worse, because at least you were loud about it. He was terrifyingly quiet.
People always assumed Law was the calm one in the relationship,the reasonable one and compared to you? that was true.
A pirate who once challenged an entire Marine battalion because insulted one of his nakamas.
But the people who thought Law was the safer half of the relationship didnât know him very well. Because Law didn't express his love openly, but he was dangerous when this one was threatened.
Law looked up from his book. His gaze drifted toward the upper deck where you were currently attempting to teach Luffy how to fish using your hands (a terrible idea actually since neither of you could swim). You were laughing completely unaware of the conversation. Lawâs expression softened. The way it only ever did when he looked at you.
âAs far as necessary.â
Because the loud one in the relationship was you, the one who shouted their love from rooftops. Law wasn't like that. He loved silently and patiently until the day someone threatens what he loves. Because he would burn down islands and turn the seas upside down without a second thought if it meant bringing you home safe and seeing that smile of yours.
Before the alliance, Law was desperately trying to convince himself that you were merely a crewmate. A temporary one, not even from his own crew but from the Straw Hats.
A very powerful, annoying and beautiful
Just a crewmate. No more.
Then he found you asleep on a cliff.
Not near a cliff, not beside it. Literally on the edge of it. One wrong movement and youâd fall hundreds of feet into the ocean below.
Law stopped walking. And he saw you. Then he looked at you more closely, trying to determine if he was hallucinating from staying up late reading a book. He rubbed his eyes and looked at you again.
ââŠBepo?.â He asked calmly
âYes, Captain?â
âAm I seeing things right?â
Bepo followed his gaze, then he almost passed out.
Law's soul briefly left his body. Zoro, following behind, walked calmly. "They do that all the time." He said casually.
Law's eye twitched. Then he started walking toward you, gently moving you further away from the cliff, and sat beside you while you were sleeping. He stayed there for two hours.
A week later happened again...
Years later, after you started dating, things somehow got worse.
Because now he cared officially. Which meant every terrible habit became infinitely more stressful.
Every time you disappeared, he searched for you.
Every time you got hurt, he was first at your side.
Every time you climbed somewhere ridiculously dangerous, he looked like he was seconds away from developing gray hair.
But despite all of that, he loved every single second by your side.
summary: For some reason, in missions with the Straw Hats, you always end up trapped with the 4 same guys from the crew
pairing: zoro x reader, sanji x reader, luffy x reader,sister!, ussop x reader
The Marines were horrified by you and your enormous bounty. The pirates always whispered about the Pirate King's daughter as if you were some otherworldly creature and product of lightning.
The Straw Hats simply called you Y/N , or, in Luffy's case, his older sister.
You possessed the powers of the Goru Goru Devil Fruit, which allowed you to create and control lightning. After Skypiea and knowing that a god possessed the same powers as you, your reputation rised above the sky (literally).
However, despite all that fearsome reputation, you spent most of your missions babysitting the same four idiots.
Crashing into G-8 base was, in your opinion, proof that the universe personally hated you.
The Going Merry had crash-landed directly inside a Marine fortress, every single hallway was packed with soldiers, and somehow the crew had split apart within the first five minutes in order to survive.
You sprinted down one of the fortress's endless gray corridors, your boots clattering against the metal floor as alarms blared.
"There!" a marine shouted behind you. "The Thunder Empress!"
âOh, come on!,I hate that stupid nicknameâ you groaned, sparks snapping from your fingertips.
You turned sharply around a corner, ducking beneath a closing gate, and kept running until you nearly slammed face-first into four familiar faces.
You stopped dead. They stopped dead.
Silence.
Then you closed your eyes in suffering.ââŠThis has to be a joke.â
"Y/N!" Usopp shouted dramatically, running toward you as if he'd seen salvation. "I'M SAVED!"
Before you could react, he clung to your arm like a terrified boy.
"What the heck are you talking about?" you hissed "Youâre making us noticeable, shut up!"
Too late. Usopp was already pointing at you proudly while talking way too loudly at the marines.
"Do you know how terrifying she is? She once sank three Marine ships! Marines faint just from looking at her!"
You slowly turned to face him. If looks could kill, Usopp would already be six feet under.
"Usopp," you said in a threatening tone.
He straightened up instantly. "âŠI should stop talking."
"Yes, you should."
Meanwhile, Sanji practically had hearts in his eyes.
âMy mermaid Y/N !â he sighed dramatically, grabbing your hand. âEven trapped in this prison fortress, your beauty illuminates these walls!â
You rolled your eyes so hard it nearly counted as exercise.
From beside the cook came a scoff. Zoro had gone oddly quiet the second he saw you. Not tense exactly, relieved. Like heâd been irritated ever since the group split and only now could finally unclench.
You missed the tiny smile pulling at Zoroâs mouth. The idiot was obvious.
âYouâre okay.â he muttered.
âOf course I amâ
"Hmm."
You immediately narrowed your eyes. "What does that reaction mean?"
"Now I can keep an eye on you."
You let out a disbelieving laugh. "Keep an eye on me? You were the first one captured!"
Before the argument could escalate, Luffy tilted his head.
âY/N?â he asked innocently. âWhy were you alone?â
You stared at him. âBecause unlike you people, I know how to move quietly....why can't I bumped into robin or nami?''
At that exact moment, Usopp accidentally knocked over an entire stack of metal crates.
CRASH
Everyone froze. A beat of silence passed.
âPIRATES!â
âOh my GOD, one minute ussop, you can't keep still for one damn minuteâ you groaned.
Suddenly all five of you were sprinting through the fortress while Marines flooded the halls behind you.
You all ran toward one of the gigantic bridges that connected the fortress towers. Everything was suspiciously quiet.
Click.
Rifles. Dozens of marines emerged from their hiding places, aiming at you all, and surged across both sides of the bridge, completely surrounding all five.
[Sanji and Zoro hardly get along, requring a lot of effort to keep things civil between them. But when it's revealed that they've both set their eyes on the same girl, their rivalry might just get out of hand.]
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If Sanji was a different man, maybe he'd feel a bit embarrassed about his little habit. Maybe he'd question whether intensely staring at his crewmate from afar is appropriate.
However, he is who he is, so Sanji just silently smokes his cigarette all the while watching you discuss something with Nami. You're telling her something that must have really moved you - there's a plethora of emotions on your face and your hands are all over the place gesturing. The cook chuckles to himself. You're cute when you're excited.
Then, something stings inside his chest. What does Sanji have to do to become your confidant? To be the person you run to whenever you need an ear to listen? His suave words and rivers of compliments have worked perfectly so far but it seems like he's come to some plateau. Lingering touches, less than ambiguous remarks, favors and gifts... And yet you're not any more inclined to throw yourself at him than you were a month ago.
"Don't bother, waiter." he hears a voice behind him.
Sanji almost chokes on the cigarette smoke. He wasn't expecting anyone to catch him red-handed, much less for that person to be Roronoa Zoro - the only one who would spill his little secret just to get under his skin.
But Zoro's willingness to get under the cook's skin goes a lot deeper, at least in Sanji's mind. He's not oblivious to the swordsman's prying eyes that follow you and the compliance with which he succumbs to your every whim, even if he tries to appear annoyed.
Sanji feels his skin burn as he watches you move around in a short skirt. As though he's under a curse or stared the Basilisk straight in the eye, he can't look away. You've asked Nami to cut the material down, not being a fan of the way you looked in a knee-length skirt. It wasn't bad, just a little awkward.
Now you're standing in front of Nami, turning around and walking in place so she can see if everything's the way you wanted. The ginger girl keeps grabbing the hem of the skirt, folding it upwards to see if the seams are right.
Then a few floorboards creak as someone else approaches the scene.
"What do you think, Zoro?" you ask in a thrilled voice. Maybe if Sanji made his presence known, you'd ask him too. Then he could gawk at you all he wanted, up close, under the guise of 'making judgment'.
"It's fine," he answers with apparent disinterest.
Zoro walks past you and Nami. Sanji closely watches him, sounding out whether the swordsman has noticed him and whether he's willing to tell on the cook. Then, to his horror, Zoro glances over his shoulder, returning his attention to you. He looks you up and down, a little too slow to be considered innocent. Zoro licks his lips.
The swordsman turns again, meeting Sanji's seething stare. A mocking half-grin enters Zoro's face. He bumps his shoulder into the cook's as he goes past him. They don't exchange any words but their strife couldn't be more clear.
"If you think you can talk me into giving up on her, you're more of an idiot than I thought," Sanji retorts. He's willing to physically fight Zoro if things come down to that. Then, should the universe bless him, you'd take care of his wounds with your tender touch.
Zoro snorts. "I'm just sayin' there's no way she'd go for you. You smell like dishrags and salivate over any girl with a pulse."
Sanji takes the cigarette out of his mouth. He chuckles, both out of anger and disbelief. "If you spent as much time with women as you do staring at your swords, maybe you'd learn that brooding and vaguely threatening stares are hardly attractive, moss-head."
"You don't know anything about her, new guy," Zoro drones out. His low tone sounds like a warning.
The swordsman's irritation is like music to Sanji's ears. A mischievous smile appears on his face. "I've spent enough nights with her to know what she likes."
Roronoa slightly raises his eyebrows. Sanji almost believes that he surprised Zoro but the expression of the dark, brown eyes is nothing if not malicious. "So that's where she is when she's not warming my bed?"
A tense silence falls between them. They stare at each other like goaded bulls, ready to gore their horns through the other man. Their crescendo almost comes to a violent climax when something distracts both of them:
Nami and you burst into wholehearted laughter, tears streaming down your faces. Shouts of 'No way!' are cut into syllables by chuckles.
Both Sanji and Zoro let out a lovesick sigh. Immediately, they turn to glare at their rival. There, as silence remains between them and their hearts are filled with your laughter, the two men take up the rivalry, knowing that they're equally too stubborn to give up until either of them wins.
a/n: let me introduce the new fictional bf in my page
Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x Female Reader
summary: In the midst of a storm and a battle, Zoro decides that if they're going to die, it should at least be interestingâŠ.(based on this scene from Pirates of the Caribbean â)
The storm was intense.
Lightning lit up the sky, creating a spectacular display; thunder rumbled loudly. The sea churned beneath the Thousand Sunny, waves clawed at the hull, and the wind howled through the sails as if it had a personal vendetta against everyone.
And on deckâŠ
a fight.
Steel clashed against steel, sparks flew among the raindrops. Pirates surged toward the ship in relentless waves, slipping, screaming and falling.
Your sword moved so fast you couldn't see it if you blinked. Clean arcs, precise footwork, a control that made chaos seem organized.
A pirate lunged; your sword met his, spinning and disarming him. Your foot tripped him, and before he hit the groundâŠ
Hands erupted from the deck.
The power of your Devil Fruit (Hana Hana no Mi) sent him flying cleanly over the railing.
You didn't even look at him.
"Next," you murmured
CLANG!
A familiar rhythm joined yours.
Three swords. Green hair.
Zoro
Back to back, your movements synchronize effortlessly, swords and conjured limbs intertwining as if you'd practiced a thousand times (and you had)
âYouâre getting surroundedâ he said, voice low
You smirked. âTook you long enoughâ
Another wave slammed the ship. Somewhere behind you, Usopp screamed like his soul had already left his body.
âIâM TOO YOUNG TO DIEâ!â
âYouâre not even dying!â Sanji snapped, kicking a pirate clean off the deck, annoyed.
Brook, somehow, was laughing.
A pirate lunged at him. He didnât even turn his headâhis sword moved, precise and effortless, sending the man crashing down.
Then, like this was just another dayâ
âIâve been thinkingâ Zoro said
You raised a brow, casually snapping three pirates unconscious with a twist of your conjured arms. âwell thatâs newâ
âShut upâ
A flash of lightning illuminated the sky and the rain intensified. The ship began to move more violently.
Zoro stepped closer.
âYou said onceâ he continued, like you werenât both in the middle of a fight, âthat if we ever died, it should at least be interestingâ
You blinked. ââŠI did say that yeah, why?â
Another pirate tried to stab youâan arm sprouted from his back and gently pushed his face into the deck.
Zoro nodded once and then grabbed your wrist pulling you just out of the path of a bladeâthen didnât let go.
Around you, the crew was fighting.
"LUFFY, STOP USING ME AS A WEAPON!" Usopp yelled as Luffy threw him at two pirates like a human boomerang.
âWhat are you doing?â you asked, suspicious.
âWe might dieâ he said simply.
âThatâs optimisticâ
âSo letâs get marriedâ
A pirate slipped and fell between you. Neither of you turned to look at him.
"I don't think it's the best time!"
"Maybe it's the only time"
A flash of lightning illuminated the sky again. Your hair whipped around your face, the rain lashed against your skin, and your heart pounded.
Behind you, "WAIT, WHAT?!" Luffy shouted, immediately abandoning his fight to run over you two.
âTHIS IS NOT THE TIME!â Nami snapped, punching two pirates mid-sentence.
Another enemy lunged at you; Zoro blocked without turning. You took a step forward, completing the move. Your swords crossed for half a second before separating again.
You let out a short laugh, breathless and sharp. âYouâre proposing in the middle of a storm?! Why?â
He looked at you then âBecause I donât want to die without knowing you said yesâ Zoro didn't take his eyes off you. "I've already made my choice. What's yours?"
You turned to look at him and shouted, "SANJI!"
Zoro stared at you with a confused expression.
''MARRY US!'' you shouted.
A voice cut through the chaos. âMOVE.â It was sanji
''Him?! Really?!'' Zoro asked annoyed.
A pirate flew into himâSanji kicked him away without even glancing.
Another wave slammed the ship
''COOK, NOW'' Zoro shouted fighting.
Sanji cleared his throat.
âWe are gathered here todayââ
A cannonball crashed into the side of the ship making it move violently.
ââto join these two idiotsââ
âHEY!â you and Zoro snapped in unison.
ââin what is possibly the worst-timed decision in history.â
Another pirate lungedâZoro cut him down. You flipped another over your shoulder.
âDo youââ
âLOOK OUT!â Usopp screamed as someone charged.
You didnât even turnâan arm sprouted from the pirateâs back and pushed him into the ocean.
Sanji tried again.
âDO YOUââ he raised his voice. ââtake this womanââ
âBEHIND YOU!â Nami shouted.
Sanji didnât stop.
ââto be your lawful wedded wifeââ
Zoro turned to you fully now, rain running down his face, swords steady in his grip.
âYES,â Zoro said.
You stepped forward, blade still in hand, breath unevenâbut your voice didnât waver.
Sanji turned to you.
âDo you take this idiotââ
âI SWEARâ!â Zoro snapped annoyed.
ââto be your lawful wedded husbandââ
âI doâ
Sanji raised his voice again, now half-yelling over thunderâ
âDo you take each otherââ
ââin sicknessâ!â
Zoro blocked a strike.
ââand in healthâ!â
You spun, cutting someone clean off their feet.
ââfor as long as you both shall live?!â
Zoroâs eyes didnât leave yours. âI doâ
Your grip tightened on your sword. âI doâ
Brook started humming something vaguely wedding-like.
Luffy clapped. âTHIS IS GREAT!â
Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose, then sighed dramatically.
âBy the power absolutely no one gave me I now pronounce youââ
The ship lurched violently.
Sanji finished, voice cutting through thunderâ
ââhusband and wife!â
âYOU MAY KISS!â Luffy screamed.
Zoro didnât hesitate. His hand came up to your face, rough, steady, certainâ
pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro Ă reader
genre: romance, angst, hurt/comfort, near-death confession
summary: After nearly dying for Zoro, long-suppressed love surfaces, forcing both to confront fear and devotion.
word count: ~4.1k
c/w: graphic injury, stabbing, blood, near-death experience, choking/drowning on blood, guilt, crying, trauma, canon-typical violence
a/n: This fanfic is based on this request: HERE . I hope you enjoy it!! Love to the person who requested this!!! <333
†opla masterlist (REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!) )
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The salt-laced wind whipped across the deck of the Going Merry, a familiar and comforting song that had become the soundtrack to your life. Laughter echoed from the crow's nest where Usopp was likely spinning another grand tale, and the mouthwatering aroma of Sanji's cooking wafted from the galley, promising a feast. It was a perfect, peaceful day, the kind of day that made you feel invincible, like you and your crew could take on the entire world and win.
You were perched on the railing, watching the endless blue expanse, a contented smile on your face. Zoro was nearby, as he often was when you were on deck. He wasn't doing anything in particular, just leaning against the mast with his arms crossed, eyes closed in a state of restful vigilance. His presence was a constant, reassuring anchor in the chaotic sea of your lives. You'd grown accustomed to the silent language you sharedâa glance, a small nod, the rare, fleeting moments when your hands would brush against each other. It was in those small touches that a universe of unspoken feelings resided, feelings you were both too proud, too scared, to voice.
"Beautiful day, isn't it?" you said, your voice soft.
He didn't open his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Hn. Better for napping."
You laughed. "Everything's better for napping with you."
That earned you a low chuckle, a rare and precious sound. It was in that moment of unguarded warmth that it happened. A flicker of movement at the edge of your vision, a shadow that didn't belong. Your instincts, honed by months of navigating the Grand Line, screamed a warning.
"Zoro, look out!"
You didn't even think. Your body moved on pure, primal instinct. You shoved him, hard, away from the mast. He stumbled, caught off guard by your sudden force, his eyes flying open in confusion and then alarm. The shadow resolved into a man, a grinning pirate with a blade that glinted maliciously in the sun. He must have been stowaway, a remnant of your last skirmish, waiting for a moment of vulnerability.
He hadn't been aiming for Zoro. He'd been aiming for you.
But in your desperate attempt to save the man you loved, you had thrown yourself directly into the path of his attack. The blade didn't just enter; it was a searing, white-hot agony that tore through your abdomen. The force of it stole your breath, a strangled gasp escaping your lips as you were thrown back against the railing.
Time seemed to shatter. The perfect day, the laughter, the smell of foodâit all dissolved into a cacophony of shouts and the sound of rushing feet. But all you could see, all you could focus on, was Zoro's face.
The sleepy contentment was gone, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated horror. His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were wide with a terror you had never seen in him before. He moved with a speed that defied logic, crossing the deck in a single, fluid motion. The attacker didn't even have time to register his own victory before Zoro's sword was drawn, a silver blur in the sunlight. There was a sickening thud, a gurgle, and then the man crumpled to the deck, a non-entity, forgotten the instant he hit the wood.
Zoro didn't spare him a second glance. He was at your side in an instant, his strong arms gently, desperately, catching you as your legs gave out.
"No," he breathed, the word a raw, ragged sound torn from his throat. "No, no, no."
You slumped against him, your head lolling against his chest. The pain was immense, a burning fire consuming you from the inside out. You could feel a terrifying warmth spreading across your stomach, soaking through your shirt.
"Zoro..." you whispered, your voice already weak, thready.
"Don't talk," he commanded, but his voice was shaking. He carefully lowered you to the deck, his hands hovering over the wound, afraid to touch, afraid to make it worse. "Sanji! Chopper! Get over here, now!" His roar was a thing of fury and panic, a sound that would have terrified any enemy.
But his attention snapped back to you instantly, his green eyes boring into yours, frantic with fear. "Hey. Look at me. Stay with me."
You tried. You really did. You focused on his face, on the desperate plea in his eyes, on the way his calloused hand was now cupping your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. The sounds of your crewmates rushing towards you were a distant muddle. Luffy's angry shout, Nami's gasp, Usopp's cry of dismay. It was all background noise. The only thing that was real was Zoro.
"It's... okay," you managed to say, though a wet cough betrayed you. A coppery taste filled your mouth.
"It's not okay!" he snarled, the anger clearly directed at himself, at the situation, at the universe for daring to do this. "Why did you do that? Why?"
You managed a weak, bloody smile. "Couldn't let... him get... that moss head of yours..."
A choked sound, half sob, half laugh, escaped him. "You idiot. You absolute, stubborn idiot."
Chopper was there now, his small face a mask of professional concentration undercut by sheer terror. "Move, Zoro! I need to see!" he squeaked, already pulling out medical supplies. Sanji was right behind him, his face pale, a lit cigarette forgotten between his fingers.
Zoro refused to let go of you, his body a protective cage around yours. He just shifted, allowing Chopper access while still cradling your head in his lap. His other hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours, a grip so tight it was almost painful, as if he could anchor you to this world through sheer force of will.
The world was starting to go fuzzy at the edges. The vibrant blue of the sky began to bleed into the wooden planks of the deck. Zoro's voice was a distant echo. You could feel the life draining out of you, a cold seeping into your bones that had nothing to do with the ocean breeze.
Then, a new horror. A wave of liquid surged up your throat. You couldn't breathe. Your eyes flew wide, and you began to choke, a horrible, wet, rattling sound. Blood, warm and thick, bubbled past your lips.
"Chopper!" Zoro's voice was a desperate cry.
"She's choking on the blood! Her lung must be punctured!" Chopper yelled, working frantically. "I need to get her to the infirmary, now! Zoro, help me!"
But Zoro was frozen, his eyes locked on the blood trickling from the corner of your mouth. It was a visceral, terrifying confirmation of how close you were to the edge. The sight of it broke something in him. He saw the light in your eyes beginning to dim, saw your body going limp in his arms.
"Stay with me," he begged, his voice cracking, the formidable swordsman of the Straw Hat Pirates completely undone. "Please, just stay with me. Don't you dare leave. Don't you dare."
Your grip on his hand slackened. The pain was fading, replaced by a strange, heavy calm. You looked up at his face, at the tears now tracking clean paths through the grime on his cheeks. Roronoa Zoro was crying. For you.
The thought was so profound, so heartbreaking, it gave you a final burst of clarity. This was it. This was your last chance. All the words you'd held back, all the feelings you'd tucked away for fear of disrupting the delicate balance of the crew, of your friendship, came rushing to the surface.
"Zoro..." you breathed, the name barely a whisper.
"I'm here," he said instantly, his face so close to yours you could feel his ragged breath. "I'm right here."
You swallowed, fighting against the encroaching darkness. "Is it... too late... to say what's on my mind?"
His breath hitched. A fresh wave of tears welled in his eyes. "No," he choked out. "No, it's not. Tell me. Please, tell me."
You opened your mouth to speak, to finally give voice to the secret you'd carried for so long. I love you. I've always loved you.
But the words wouldn't come. The darkness was faster. It pulled you under, a silent, cold tide. You felt his hand squeeze yours one last time, heard him shout your name, a sound of pure anguish.
And then, there was nothing.
The next three days were a special kind of hell for the Going Merry and her crew. The attacker had been unceremoniously dumped overboard, but the satisfaction was hollow. A heavy, suffocating grief had settled over the ship, a stark contrast to the cheerful atmosphere that had reigned just hours before.
Zoro was a ghost. He sat outside the infirmary door, a silent, unmoving sentinel. He hadn't left that spot since Chopper and Sanji had carried you inside. He hadn't eaten. He hadn't slept. He'd refused all offers of food and water, his one-track mind focused solely on the closed wooden door that separated him from you.
He kept replaying it. The perfect day. Your smile. The way you'd called him a moss head, your voice full of affection even as
you bled out on his deck. The sight of the blade sinking into your flesh was seared into his memory, a brand on his soul. He'd faced down warlords, monsters, and gods, but nothing, absolutely nothing, had ever terrified him like the sight of you falling.
The first night was the worst. Every creak of the ship, every groan of the wood, sounded like your last breath. He could hear Chopper moving around inside, the occasional clink of medical instruments, the soft murmur of the doctor talking to himself as he worked. Each sound was a fresh stab of anxiety. Was that a good sign? A bad one? He didn't know. The ignorance was a form of torture.
Luffy had come to him once, his usual boisterous energy replaced by a quiet, uncharacteristic seriousness. He'd just sat down beside Zoro, staring at the door, not saying a word. After a long while, he'd placed a hand on Zoro's shoulder. "She's strong, Zoro. She'll make it." Then he'd left, leaving Zoro alone with his thoughts.
Sanji was the most persistent. He'd bring trays of food, each one more elaborate than the last. "You need to eat, Marimo-head," he'd say, his voice lacking its usual venom. "You're no good to her dead on your feet."
Zoro would just glare, his gaze unwavering from the door. "I'm not hungry."
"Bullshit. You're going to waste away. What happens when she wakes up and sees a skeleton guarding her door?"
The thought of you waking up was the only thing that kept him from completely shattering. It was a fragile flicker of hope in a cavern of despair. He held onto it, nurturing it in the dead of night when the fear was at its worst.
On the second day, his stoicism began to crumble. The crew kept their distance, sensing the volatile, dangerous energy radiating from him. But in the dead of night, when he was sure everyone was asleep, he allowed the mask to fall. He leaned his forehead against the cool wood of the door, the silence of the ship pressing down on him.
He thought about your last words. Is it too late to say what's on my mind?
What had you wanted to say? The question echoed in his mind, a relentless, maddening loop. He, who was usually so decisive, so sure of his path, was lost in a sea of what-ifs. Regret was a bitter poison, and it was coursing through his veins. He'd had so much time. So many opportunities. And he'd wasted them all, hiding behind his ambition, his duty, his stupid, stubborn pride.
He'd always told himself there would be time later. After they found the One Piece. After he became the greatest swordsman. After the journey was over. He'd been a fool. The Grand Line didn't grant later. It only offered now.
A sound escaped his throat, a strangled, wounded noise. He squeezed his eyes shut, and for the first time since he was a child, he cried. Not silent, stoic tears, but raw, gut-wrenching sobs that shook his entire body. He cried for the words left unsaid, for the future that was slipping away, for the brilliant, vibrant woman who had thrown herself in front of a blade for him, and who might never open her eyes again.
He didn't know how long he sat there, a broken man against a wooden door, but eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and he slipped into a troubled sleep, still leaning against the infirmary, his hand resting on the doorknob as if he could somehow sense you through the wood.
You woke up slowly, drifting back to consciousness as if from a long, deep dive. The first thing you were aware of was a dull, persistent ache in your abdomen, a deep throb that seemed to be the center of your entire world. The second thing was the smell. Antiseptic and clean linen. You were in the infirmary.
You tried to take a deep breath, but a sharp, stabbing pain in your chest made you stop, your breath catching in your throat. You coughed, a weak, rattling sound, and the movement sent a fresh wave of agony through your torso.
A small, furry face appeared over you, his eyes wide with relief. "You're awake!"
"Chopper?" your voice was a hoarse whisper, dry and unused.
"I'm here! You're okay! Well, you're not okay okay, but you're alive!" he chirped, his professional demeanor barely containing his joy. "You gave us quite a scare. The blade punctured your lung, and you lost a lot of blood. It was... it was really bad. But I fixed it! I'm a great doctor, after all!"
You managed a weak smile. "Thanks... Chopper."
"Don't try to talk too much," he advised, fussing with your IV drip. "You need to rest. You've been out for three days."
Three days. The weight of it settled on you. You remembered the blade, the shock, the look on Zoro's face. The blood. The question you never got to ask.
"Zoro..." you breathed, your heart starting to pound in your chest, which was a very bad idea, as the pain quickly reminded you.
Chopper's expression softened with sympathy. "He's... been outside. The whole time. He hasn't left. He hasn't even eaten."
Your heart ached for a different reason now. You could just picture him, a stubborn, loyal guard dog, refusing to move. "Can I... see him?"
"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Chopper said gently. "You need to rest. And he... well, he's not in a good way. He needs to know you're okay first. Let me go tell him you're awake. Just... try to rest."
Before you could protest, the little doctor scurried out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the steady, rhythmic beep of a heart monitor. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing, trying to push past the pain and focus on the fact that you were alive. You were alive, and Zoro was outside that door, blaming himself.
A few minutes later, you heard voices in the hallway. Chopper's high-pitched, excited tone, and then a lower, rougher one. Zoro's.
"She's awake, Zoro! She's going to be okay!"
There was a moment of silence, and you imagined him processing the news. You pictured the tension leaving his shoulders, the relief washing over him. Then, the sound of the door creaking open.
He stepped inside, and the sight of him nearly broke your heart all over again. He looked like hell. His face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot and shadowed with exhaustion. A thick stubble covered his jaw, and his clothes were wrinkled and creased from three days of wear. He looked smaller somehow, diminished, the formidable first mate of the Straw Hat Pirates reduced to a man balanced on a knife's edge of hope and despair.
His eyes found yours, and the raw, unguarded emotion in them took your breath away. It was a storm of relief, guilt, fear, and something so profound, so deep, it made your chest ache.
He didn't say anything. He just moved to your bedside, his movements slow, almost reverent. He reached out, his hand hovering over yours, as if afraid he might break you.
"Hey," you whispered, your voice cracking.
"Hey," he rasped back. His voice was raw, gravelly from disuse. He finally let his hand settle over yours, his touch impossibly gentle, his thumb stroking the back of your knuckles. "You're... awake."
"Seems so," you managed a weak smile. "You look like shit."
A wet, shaky laugh escaped him. It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. "You look worse."
He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sank into it, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked like he was about to collapse, but he was holding himself together by a thread. For you.
"I'm sorry," he said, the words thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry."
"What for?" you asked, confused. "You didn't do anything."
"I should have been faster," he said, his voice tight with self-loathing. "I should have seen him. I should have protected you. Instead, you... you saved me."
"I'd do it again," you said, without a moment's hesitation. "Every time."
He flinched as if you'd struck him. He bowed his head, his shoulders shaking. "Don't say that," he choked out. "Don't ever say that."
You watched him, your heart breaking for his pain. You squeezed his hand as best you could. "Zoro. Look at me."
He slowly lifted his head, his green eyes swimming in tears he refused to let fall. "I thought I lost you," he whispered, the words a confession of his deepest fear. "For three days, I thought... I thought I'd have to navigate this damn sea without you."
"You won't," you promised, your voice firm despite its weakness. "I'm not going anywhere."
He just stared at you, his gaze so intense it felt like he was trying to memorize every line of your face. The infirmary was quiet, the only sounds the soft beeping of the monitor and your own shallow breathing. The unspoken words hung in the air between you, heavy
and palpable. You knew he was thinking about your last moments on the deck, about the question you had asked. And you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that you couldn't wait any longer. Neither of you could.
"Zoro," you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. "About what I said... before."
He tensed, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. "You don't have to," he said quickly. "You need to rest. We can talk later."
"No," you insisted, gathering what little strength you had. "There might not be a later. We both know that. I almost... I almost ran out of laters."
He closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. He couldn't argue with that. He had lived it.
You took a shallow, careful breath. "When I asked if it was too late to say what was on my mind... I wasn't just asking because I thought I was dying. I was asking because I was a coward. I was always a coward when it came to you."
His eyes snapped open, filled with disbelief. "You? A coward? You took a sword for me!"
"That was instinct," you said, shaking your head slightly. "That was easy. This... this is the hard part. Telling you that I'm in love with you. That I've been in love with you for what feels like forever. That I love your stupid, stubborn determination, and the way you sleep anywhere, and how you get lost even when you're going in a straight line. I love the rare smile you save just for me, and the way you're always watching my back, even when you pretend you're not."
The words tumbled out of you in a rush, a lifetime of suppressed feelings finally breaking free. You were breathless by the end, your heart hammering against your ribs, each beat a painful protest from your injured body.
Zoro was completely still. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched on, so long and so loud that you began to panic. Had you made a terrible mistake? Had you misread everything?
But then, you saw it. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down his weathered cheek. He didn't wipe it away. He just let it fall.
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the edge of your bed, his face inches from yours. The scent of steel and sweat and something uniquely Zoro filled your senses.
"I was the coward," he said, his voice a low, rough murmur that vibrated through you. "All this time, I thought I was being strong, keeping my focus on the goal. But I was just a coward. I was terrified."
"Of what?" you breathed.
"Of this," he said, his gaze dropping to your bandaged stomach. "Of having something to lose. I've already lost so much. I didn't think I could survive it if I lost you, too. So I told myself it was better to have you as a friend than to risk everything and lose you completely."
He looked back up at you, his eyes shining with a raw, devastating honesty. "I watched you bleed out in my arms, and all I could think was that I was a fool. A damn, arrogant fool. I had the most precious thing in the world right next to me, and I was too scared to reach out and grab it. I would have traded every victory, every step closer to my dream, for one more minute with you. For the chance to hear you say my name like that again."
He gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light. "I love you," he said, the words simple, direct, and more powerful than any declaration you could have imagined. "I think I have loved you since the moment I saw you refuse to back down from a fight you couldn't win. You're stronger than me. You always have been."
Tears streamed down your face now, mingling with the sweat on your temples. You laughed, a wet, hiccupping sound that sent a jolt of pain through you, but you didn't care. "You're the idiot," you whispered. "The biggest, most stubborn, wonderful idiot in the entire world."
He smiled, a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes, banishing the shadows and making him look like the man you adored. "Maybe," he conceded. "But I'm your idiot."
He leaned in closer, his gaze dropping to your lips. It was a question, an invitation. You answered by closing the small distance between you.
The kiss was impossibly gentle, a delicate, careful press of his lips against yours. It tasted of salt, of tears, of unspoken promises. It wasn't a kiss of passion, but of reverence, of homecoming. It was the kiss of two souls who had spent years circling each other in the dark, finally, miraculously, finding their light. It was everything you had ever wanted and more.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. "Don't ever do that to me again," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"I'll try not to," you promised, a feeling of profound peace settling over you, a soothing balm on the pain. "But you have to promise me something too."
"Anything."
"Promise me you'll eat something," you said, a teasing note in your voice. "You're starting to look like a skeleton. Sanji was right."
He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest. "Okay. For you. I'll eat."
"And sleep," you added. "In a real bed. Not on the floor outside my door."
He hesitated for a moment. "I'll sleep right here," he said, nodding towards the chair. "If that's okay."
"More than okay," you whispered, your eyes already growing heavy. The confession, the emotional turmoil, it had all taken its toll. "Stay."
"I'm not going anywhere," he vowed, his voice a low, steady anchor in the encroaching darkness. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
You believed him. You closed your eyes, a contented smile on your lips, the steady, strong presence of the man you loved beside you. The pain was still there, a dull throb in your side, but it was distant now, overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling of rightness, of coming home.
The Going Merry sailed on, her timbers creaking a gentle lullaby. Outside, the sun was setting, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink, a promise of a new day. And in the quiet of the infirmary, two wounded hearts, finally laid bare, began to heal together, bound by a love forged in fire and blood, and stronger than any steel.
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro (OPLA) x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, romance, supernatural au
Summary: Three years ago, you gave Roronoa Zoro everything. To save his life from a deadly curse, you used your Devil Fruit power to erase yourself from his mind, choosing to live as a ghost in his wake. Now, as a captive on the Straw Hat ship, you have to face the man who looks at you like a stranger while his soul refuses to let you go.
Note: My masterlist
--
The wood of the mast is rough against my back. It bites into my skin through the thin fabric of my shirt. I do not flinch. I keep my chin tilted up even though the cold steel of a katana is resting just inches from my throat.
Roronoa Zoro stands over me. The sea breeze tousles his green hair, and his eyes are narrowed into lethal slits. To the rest of the world, he is the Pirate Hunter. To the crew of this ship, he is the man who captured the dangerous woman they found at the last port. To me, he is a stranger. I have made sure of that.
"Give it up," Zoro says. His voice is a low growl that vibrates in his chest. "This is the fourth time you have tried to steal a rowboat. You are not going anywhere."
I stare back at him. I make sure my eyes are like chips of ice. I have practiced this expression in the mirror of every cheap tavern and dirty inn for years. I have to look at him as if he is nothing more than a nuisance. I have to look at him as if I do not know the exact way his jaw tightens when he is annoyed. I have to look at him as if I do not remember the warmth of his skin against mine.
"I do not belong to you," I say. My voice is steady. "I do not belong on this ship. Kill me or let me go, Swordsman. This middle ground is boring."
I see his grip tighten on the hilt of his sword. His knuckles turn white. He should kill me. I am a bounty hunter from a rival faction. I am an enemy. His instincts are usually perfect. He is a predator who knows when to strike.
But I see a flicker of something that is not anger in his eyes. It is a ghost of a memory that I ripped out of his head three years ago. He feels pull toward me that he cannot explain. It makes him move closer, invading my space until I can smell the scent of sake and sharpening stone on him.
My body betrays me. Even as I glare at him with hatred, my heart begins to race. My pulse thumps in my neck, right where his blade is resting. My breathing hitches. He notices. He is a fighter; he knows how to read a body. He looks down at the way my chest rises and falls. He looks at the way I am leaning into him instead of pulling away.
"Why do you look at me like that?" he asks. He sounds like a man frustredly trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
"Like what?" I snap.
"Like you want to spit on me and kiss me at the same time," he says. He lowers his sword just an inch. "I should have cut you down the moment we met. My gut told me you were trouble. But every time I raise my blade, my hand feels heavy. It is like my own body is refusing to hurt you."
"Maybe you are just getting soft," I taunt him. "Maybe the Straw Hats have made you weak."
He snarls and slams his hand against the mast right next to my head. He is so close now that our breaths mingle.
I want to reach out. I want to touch the scar on his chest. I want to tell him his name and hear him say mine the way he used to. But I cannot. Everyone I have ever kept close has ended up in the ground. My power is a curse, and the only way to keep Zoro alive is to make sure he never loves me again.
"I am not weak," he whispers. His face is inches from mine. "But there is something about you. I feel like I am haunted. I look at you and I feel like I am losing my mind."
I keep my face a mask of stone. "You are just tired, Zoro. Go take a nap."
He huffs a breath of disbelief and finally steps back. He sheathes his sword with a sharp click. He looks like he wants to shake the truth out of me, but he doesn't know what the truth even is. He turns on his heel and stomps away.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I slide down the mast until I am sitting on the deck, my head in my hands. I have to get off this ship. I have to leave before he remembers.
Later that evening, Zoro is sitting on the grassy deck. He is supposed to be napping, but his eyes are open. He is watching me as I am sitting on the opposite side of the ship, pretending to sharpen his sword.
Luffy walks over to him. The captain is unusually quiet. He sits down next to his first mate and looks out at the sea. Luffy has a different kind of sight. He sees the hearts of people. He sees the things they try to hide under layers of lies.
"She is a mystery, isn't she?" Luffy asks. He swings his legs back and forth.
Zoro grunts. "She is a pain in the ass. She is an enemy we should have left at the port. I don't know why you let her stay."
Luffy tilts his head. He looks over at me, then back at Zoro. He smiles that small, knowing smile that he only uses when he is being serious.
"I let her stay because of the way she looks at you, Zoro," Luffy says softly.
Zoro frowns. "She looks at me like she wants to kill me. She hasn't said a nice word to me since she got here. She treats me like a stranger."
Luffy shakes his head. "No. People who hate each other don't look like that. You know, for someone who pretends to be a stranger, she looks at you like you are her ocean. She looks at you like you are the only place she wants to sail, even if she is afraid of the water."
Zoro goes still. He looks across the deck at me again. I feel his gaze and I look up. For a split second, I forget to be cold. I forget to be a stranger. I let the longing show in my eyes. I let the love I have buried for three years rise to the surface. It is only for a heartbeat. Then, I catch myself. I scowl and turn away.
But it is too late. Zoro saw it. He doesn't understand it yet, but the seed is planted. He stays there on the deck, feeling the phantom weight of a memory he cannot quite reach.
I stay on my side of the ship, praying to a god I don't believe in that I can find a way to escape before he realizes that the ocean he is looking for is standing right in front of him.
--
One evening, I am sitting on the wooden deck with my back against the railing. I am trying to reminding myself of the distance I must keep between myself and the crew, especially him. I closed my eyes and let the sound of the waves take me back to the night three years ago. It was a night just like this one before I ruined everything to save his life.
I remember the way the moonlight hit the tiny room we had shared in that hidden village. We were younger then. He was already a legend in the making, but to me, he was just Zoro. We had spent months traveling together. We were a team of two against the world.
That night, the air was thick with things we had never said out loud. He had reached out and taken my hand. His skin was warm and calloused from years of gripping a sword. When he pulled me close, I didn't fight him. I didn't want to be a stranger then.
I remember the first time we shared. It was slow and quiet. He wasn't the brooding swordsman the world knew. With me, he was gentle. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and looked at me as if I were the only prize he ever wanted to win. His touch was like a fire that started in my chest and spread to my toes.
I felt truly alive for the first time in years. But as we lay there afterward, the fear began to crawl up my throat. I looked at him while he slept and I saw his future. He was going to be the greatest swordsman in the world. He was going to have a crew and a dream.
And I knew my curse. Everyone I loved died. My father, my brother, and my best friend. They were all gone because they stayed by my side. The sea has a way of taking things from people like me. Zoro often said it wasnât my fault. I looked at Zoro and I knew I couldn't let the sea take him too. I couldn't be the reason his story ended early.
I sat up and hovered my hand over his forehead. My Devil Fruit power felt cold in my palms. It was a shimmering, pale light that looked like stardust. It was beautiful and terrible. To use it, I had to reach into the most private parts of a person's soul. I reached into his mind that night. I expected to see his swords or his ambition. Instead, I saw myself.
His heart was entirely full of my name. Every memory he had of the last year was colored by my presence. He remembered the way I laughed. He remembered how I liked my coffee. He remembered the exact moment he realized he loved me. It broke my heart to see how much space I took up in his life. He loved me so deeply that it made him vulnerable. A man with that much to lose is a man who makes mistakes in a fight.
I leaned down and pressed my lips to his one last time. It was a kiss of goodbye, even though he was right there. As our lips touched, I let the cold light pour into him. I watched as the memories of us dissolved. I watched the love in his heart vanish. I wiped it all clean.
When I walked out of that room, I wasn't just leaving a man. I was becoming a ghost. I had erased my own happiness to buy him a long life. That was the price. I would live, and he would live, but we would never be "us" again.
The sound of footsteps on the deck snaps me back to the present. I open my eyes and see a pair of sandals. I look up to see Luffy. He is wearing his straw hat and a wide, curious expression. He doesn't look at me like I am a prisoner. He looks at me like I am a friend who is lost.
"You aren't going to run away today. I can tell,"Â Luffy says. His voice is sincere.
"You shouldn't trust me, Captain. I am dangerous to have around. Your swordsman told you that himself," I say.
Luffy sits down on the deck next to me. He crosses his legs and looks out at the ocean. "Zoro says a lot of things. But he feels things even more. He is confused right now. He feels like he is missing something important, and he thinks it is because of you."
I look away, staring at the white foam of the waves. "He isn't missing anything. He is exactly who he is supposed to be. A great swordsman. A loyal friend. He doesn't need a shadow following him around."
"Is that what you are?" Luffy asks. "A shadow?"
"I am a ghost," I say softly. "I died a long time ago, Luffy. I just forgot to stop breathing. I had to make a choice. I could have a life with someone, or I could make sure that person had a life at all. I chose the second one."
Luffy hums a low note. He doesn't ask for details, but I can feel him processing my words. He is smarter than people give him credit for. He knows that I am talking about Zoro, even if I haven't said his name.
"You think the sea is stronger than love," Luffy says. It isn't a question. "But I think you are wrong. I think if you love someone soulfully, like you do, you can't just erase it. You can take the memories, but you can't take the feeling. It stays in the bones."
"I hope you're wrong," I whisper. "Because if you're right, then all my suffering was for nothing."
Luffy stands up and pats his hat. "I'm usually right about these things. You should go get some food. Sanji made something special. And don't worry about Zoro. He is stubborn, but he isn't blind. He will find his way back to the ocean eventually."
I watch him walk away. My heart feels like it is being squeezed by a giant hand. I look toward the gym where I know Zoro is training. I can hear the dull thud of his weights hitting the floor. I am sitting on the same deck as the man I love, but we are worlds apart. I have achieved exactly what I wanted. He is alive, and he doesn't know who I am.
So why does it feel like I am the one who is drowning? I pull my knees to my chest and hide my face. I have to stay cold. I have to stay a stranger. But I can still feel the ghost of that moonlit night on my skin. I can still feel the warmth of a man who once gave me his whole heart, even if he doesn't remember that he did. I am the only one left to carry the weight of our love.
--
Life on the ship with the Straw Hats is loud and chaotic. Every day is a test of my patience and my resolve. I spend most of my time trying to blend into the shadows of the deck or hiding in the library. I do not want to be part of their family. I do not want to sit at their table and laugh at their jokes. Every time I see the way they care for one another, it reminds me of what I had to kill in myself. It reminds me of the warmth I stole from the man with the three swords.
Zoro is everywhere. No matter where I go on this ship, he seems to find a reason to be there too. He is tracking me like a predator tracks a stray animal that has wandered into his territory. If I go to the kitchen for a glass of water, he is suddenly there leaning against the doorframe. If I go to the deck to watch the stars, he is already perched on the railing with his eyes closed. He acts like he is sleeping, but I know better. He is watching me with his ears and his instincts.Â
I try to be mean to him. I use every sharp word I can find in my vocabulary to keep him away. I tell him his presence is annoying. I tell him he smells like sweat and cheap liquor. I roll my eyes when he gets lost going from the mast to the galley. I do everything in my power to make him hate me. Hate doesn't invite the curse, or make the sea want to take him away from me.
"You are still here," Zoro says one afternoon. I am sitting on a crate, trying to fix a tear in my cloak. He is standing over me, blocking the sun. "I thought you would have tried to jump overboard by now."
"I am waiting for a better island," I say without looking up. "This current stretch of ocean is boring. Even a shark would find you too tasteless to bite, so I would have no entertainment while I swim."
He let out a short, dry laugh. "You have a sharp tongue for a prisoner. Most people in your position would be begging for mercy or at least trying to be helpful."
"I am not most people," I snap. I look up at him then withan uninterested gaze. "And I am not your friend. Stop talking to me."
He doesn't leave. Instead, he sits down on the deck right in front of me. He starts to sharpen one of his blades. He knows the sound sets my teeth on edge. He knows that his proximity makes my skin prickle with a heat I cannot explain.
I have tried to escape four times this week. Every time, I wait until the middle of the night to sneak toward the small rescue boat at the back of the ship. I am quiet as a shadow. But every single time, as I reach for the rope, a heavy hand drops onto my shoulder.
"Going somewhere?" he always asks. His voice is usually thick with sleep but his eyes are wide and alert.
"Let go of me, Zoro," I hissed at him. I tried to pry his fingers off my arm, but he didn't budge.
"Luffy said you stay," he replied simply. He didn't even sound angry. He sounded bored, which was even worse. "And since I am the one who has to go get you when you fall in the water, I am tired of the extra work. Just go back to your cabin."
After that last attempt, he becomes my shadow. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He follows me from one end of the ship to the other. He doesn't say much, but he was always there. He calls me a clumsy thief and a terrible liar. He told me I looked like a drowned rat when the sea spray hit the deck.
But underneath the insults, there is a tension that is pulling us together like a magnet. I can feel it in the way he looks at my mouth when I am yelling at him. I can feel it in the way my hand trembles when I am near his swords. We are both pretending. We are playing a game of cat and mouse where both of us are the hunters.
I want to scream at him. I want to grab his green hair and pull his face toward mine and tell him everything. I want to tell him that I remember the way he breathes when he is deep in sleep. I want to tell him that I know the secret scar on his hip that he never shows anyone. I want to jump on him and let out all the frustration and the love and the grief that has been rotting inside me for three years. I want to hit him and then I want to hold him until the sun comes up.
And I can see the same hunger in him. He doesn't know why, but he is drawn to me. He is a man of honor and discipline, but when he is near me, his guard slips. He lingers too long when our hands accidentally brush over a shared plate of food. He watches me with an intensity that feels like a physical touch. He is searching for something in my face that he cannot name.Â
"Why are you staring at me?" I ask him one night. The ship is quiet. Everyone else is asleep. We are the only two on deck.
"I am not staring," he says, though his eyes are fixed on mine. "I am just wondering why a woman who claims to hate me so much stays close enough for me to smell her perfume."
"It isn't perfume. It is soap," I say coldly. "And I am only here because you are blocking the stairs."
"Then move me," he challenges. He stands up and steps into my personal space. He is so close that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. He is a furnace of life and strength. "Try to push me out of the way. Try to escape right now."
I look at his chest, then up at his face. My heart is pounding so hard I am afraid he can hear it. I want to push him. I want to let all the lies fall away and just be with him. But I think of the curse. I think of the blood on the sand. I think of the empty room in the moonlight.
"You aren't worth the effort," I say. My voice cracks just a little bit, but I hope he doesn't notice.
I turn around and walk away, leaving him standing there in the dark. I can feel his eyes on my back. I know that arrogant, knowing smile of his. He knows he is winning. He knows that no matter how mean I act or how many times I try to run, I am tied to him by a thread he cannot see. We are both walking on the edge of a cliff, and it is only a matter of time before one of us falls. I just hope that when we do, I am the only one who hits the bottom.
--
The mission was supposed to be simple. Luffy wanted to explore the ruins of the Sun Temple to find a lost map, and I had no choice but to follow. Zoro had been assigned to watch me. I kept my distance, walking at the back of the group and refusing to meet his eyes.
When we reached the inner chamber, the traps triggered, and the shadows came to life. I saw a blade aimed at Zoroâs back while he was busy with a dozen guards. I didn't think. I threw myself in the way because I would rather die a thousand times than see him bleed.
The stone floor of the temple is freezing against my skin. I can feel the blood soaking into my clothes, spreading in a warm, dark circle. The villain stands over me with a jagged blade that glows with a sickly purple light. He has just pulled it from my chest. I try to breathe. I look up and see the ceiling blurring. I can feel my power escaping from the wound in my heart.
It does not look like blood. It looks like tiny, shimmering sparks of gold and silver. They are floating out of me like fireflies. Each one is a memory I stole. Each one is a piece of the life I tried to hide from the world. I see a spark that holds the image of his smiling face and the sound of his laughter. It is drifting away into the smoky air of the battlefield.
I hear a sound from across the room. It is a guttural roar that sounds like a wounded animal. I turn my head slowly and see Zoro. He is standing in the center of a swarm of guards, but he is not looking at them. He is looking at me and the golden lights leaving my body.
His face is pale. His eyes are wide and bloodshot. In that moment, something inside him snaps. He looks like his entire world has ended. He clutches his chest with one hand as if he can feel the blade in my heart. He feels a physical tear in his own soul. The ghost that has been haunting him for weeks is suddenly screaming. He knows me. He does not have the memories yet, but his spirit recognizes the light leaving my eyes.
"Get out of my way," Zoro says.
The guards rush him, thinking he is distracted. They are wrong. Zoro becomes a blur of steel and shadow. He does not use any fancy techniques, or call out the names of his attacks. He simply cuts through them. Anyone who stands between him and me is cut down before they can even raise a shield.
He ignores the cuts on his own arms. He ignores the bruises and the fatigue. He only sees me. He is clearing a path through a sea of enemies with a single purpose. He reaches the steps of the altar where I am lying. The villain tries to swing the jagged blade at him, but Zoro does not even flinch. He parries the blow with such force that the villainâs weapon shatters into a thousand pieces. With one swift movement, Zoro sends the man flying backward into the stone wall.
The room goes quiet. The minions have all fled or fallen. Zoro drops his swords. They hit the floor with a heavy metallic clang. He falls to his knees beside me and scoops me into his arms. His hands are shaking. This man, who can hold a hundred pounds of steel without a tremor, cannot keep his fingers still as he touches my face.
"Don't," he gasps. "Don't you dare go."
I cannot speak. My lips are parted, and I am gasping for air that will not come. The very last of the shimmering lights is hovering just above my mouth. It is the brightest one of all. It is the memory of that night that started it all.
Zoro looks at the light, and then at my fading eyes. He looks like a man who has finally found what he was looking for, only to watch it turn to dust. He leans down, his forehead resting against mine. He is crying, though he does not seem to realize it. His tears fall onto my cheeks, mixing with my own.
He moves by instinct. He knows that if that light goes out, I go with it. He knows that if he does not catch it, the hole in his soul will never be filled. He leans down. His lips are rough, and they are trembling. When he presses his mouth against mine, the world explodes into color.
The tiny light does not vanish. It shatters. It pours back into me through our connection. At the same time, the years of erased history come rushing back into his mind. I feel the shock in his body. He stiffens, his hands clutching my shoulders. He sees the hidden village. He remembers the soup in the rain. He remembers the way I cried while I erased his memories and feelings.
The warmth returns to my limbs. My heart starts to beat steadily. I open my eyes, and for the first time in three years, I see a man who truly knows me.
The last thing I see before everything turns black was him pulling back just an inch. He finally understands why his heart was never empty. It was simply waiting for the owner to come home.
--
The white walls of the infirmary feel like they are closing in on me. I am sitting on the edge of the narrow cot. My chest is wrapped in thick bandages, and every breath I take is a reminder of how close I came to leaving this world. I should be happy that I am alive and that Zoro remembers me. But the fear is still there. The curse has not gone away just because he knows my name.
Zoro enters the room without knocking. He is carrying a tray of food that he probably stole from the kitchen. He looks tired, but his eyes are sharper than they have been in years. He sets the tray down on a small table and pulls up a chair. He doesn't say anything at first. He just watches me with that such an intense gaze that makes my skin feel too tight.
"You need to eat," he says. "Chopper says you are healing fast, but you are still too pale."
I do not look at the food. I do not look at him. I stare at my hands in my lap. "I have been thinking, Zoro. You must have tons of questions messing your head right now. About what happened between us that night..about us.â
"And?" he asks. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
"It was a mistake," I say. I have to push him away before the sea notices how happy we were. "It was the adrenaline. It was the moment. We were both distracted by desires. It was a one-time release of tension."
The room goes silent. I can hear the sound of Zoroâs breathing, which has suddenly become slow and deliberate. I look up and see that his jaw is locked tight. He stands up slowly. He looks like he is going to war.
"A one-time release?" he repeats. He walks toward me, and I instinctively slide back on the cot until my back hits the cold stone wall. He reaches out and plants his hands on the wall on either side of my head to trap me in the small space between his arms.
"Look at me," he commands.
I shake my head, trying to turn away. "Go away, Zoro. If you stay with me, you will die. I cannot have your blood on my hands. I already sacrificed three years of my life to keep you breathing. Don't make it for nothing."
He grabs my chin with his hand and forces me to look up at him. His eyes are burning. There is no confusion in them anymore. There is only an unwavering certainty.
"I don't care about your prices," Zoro says. His voice is a harsh whisper against my skin. "I don't care about your curses. I spent three years walking around this ship feeling like I was dead inside. I looked at you and felt a hole in my chest that I couldn't explain. I have spent too long forgetting you, and I am never doing it again."
"You don't understand," I sob. "The people I love always leave. I am trying to save you."
"Then let me save myself," he snaps. "I am Roronoa Zoro. I am going to be the greatest swordsman in the world. Do you really think a little bad luck is going to take me down? I have fought monsters and gods. I am not afraid of a girl with a sad story."
He moves even closer. I can feel the heat of his body pressing into mine. The bandages on my chest feel tight. My heart is racing so fast I think it might burst. He is refusing to let me be a martyr. He is dragging me back into the light whether I am ready or not.
"You are mine," he says. It is not a request. It is a fact. "You have been mine since we met. Not just that night in the village. You can try to run. You can try to erase my mind again. But I will chase you across every ocean every single time until you realize that you belong by my side."
I look into his eyes and see the truth. He is not going to let go. He would rather die with me than live without me. The fear is still there, but it is being overwhelmed by a wave of desperate, hungry love. I reach up and grab the front of his shirt, pulling him down.
The kiss is crushing. It tastes of the three years we lost and the fear that this might be our last second of peace. It is a vow that he is making with his whole soul. He is claiming me, marking me as his own, and challenging the entire world to try and take me away.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, finally giving up the fight. If the sea wants us, it will have to take us both together. As his lips move against mine, I realize that I am no longer a ghost. I am a woman who is loved by Roronoa Zoro, and for the first time in a long time, I am not afraid to breathe.
Summary: Steve meets the new girl alongside her brother and little sister
The roar of an engine erupted at Hawkins High.
Steve's fingers gripped the steering wheel while Nancy looked up from the paper Steve had given her minutes earlier. Her annoyance already blooming.
"What's that?" she asked.
The answer announced itself.
Two Camaros slide through the Hawkins High parking lot. One was navy blue. The other black. More elegant. The kind of car that does not scream for attention because it already has it.
They park side by side.
Heads turn. Conversations stall mid-sentence.
The driverÂŽs door of the black Camaro opens first.
You step out.
Ripped jeans, black boots. A black top that disappears under a denim jacket. Your red hair falls over your shoulders, shiny and uninhibited, reflecting the morning sun as if it wants to start a fire.
Max gets out from the other side of the car, slamming the door.
Billy gets out of his own car.
Steve doesnât realize heâs staring until Nancy scoffs.
You noticed the stares immediately. All of them. Teachers. Students. The basketball kids who usually think they own the school. You glance around once, slowly and deliberately, and a knowing smile spreads across your face as if you've been there before.
Nancy's jaw tightens.
âSeriously?â she mutters, heat rising in her cheeks as every guy within a ten-foot radius suddenly forgets how legs work.
Steve says nothing. He can't stop watching you and how your sister stays glued to your side like a shadow.
Billy slams the door, sunglasses on and a frown on his face. You bump his shoulder with yours, not exactly friendly, but not hostile either. A silent truce. He mutters something in your ear. You respond with a lazy nod.
Steve swallows.
âWho is that?â Nancy asks, too sharp.
Steve shrugs. âNo idea.â
Y/N Mayfield arrives like a problem Hawkins didnât know it needed.
Steve and Nancy donât last much longer.
The cracks were already there. Guilt. Silence. The breakup was messy and leaves Nancy standing alone in a bathroom and Steve leaving a halloween party.
Steve bumps into you another day by accident.
Or maybe not.
The back of Hawkins High School smells like wet leaves and dampness. Steve cuts through the alley to avoid the noise from inside, his shoulders heavy with things he doesn't want to name, having just talked to Nancy about what happened at the party, ending their relationship for good.
Then he hears voices.
Billy's voice, high-pitched and irritated. Yours, low and firm.
"You can't decide that for me," you say.
Steve freezes around the corner.
"I'm just saying," Billy snaps. "Coming here was the worst thing that could have happened to us."
You laugh dryly and humorlessly. "We're here now, Billy, there's nothing more to be done."
There's a pause. Steve glances at you just long enough to see you leaning against the brick wall, a cigarette between your fingers, the smoke swirling around your face as if it belonged there. Billy stands in front of you, tense, his hands in his jacket pockets.
"And Max?" Billy adds.
Your tone changes. Softer. Dangerous in a different way. "She's adjusting."
Billy exhales through his nose.
"Unbelievable."
Another moment. Billy scoffs, shakes his head, and storms off toward the parking lot, his boots crunching on the gravel.
Steve stays frozen, heart thudding.
You donât notice him at first.
You take another drag, exhale slowly, eyes closed. When you open them, you catch him standing there.
Neither of you moves.
ââŠYou gonna keep spying,â you ask calmly, âor say something?â
Steve winces. âI wasnât spying. Just⊠walking.â
âUh-huh.â
You flick ash to the ground, studying him with open curiosity. No embarrassment. Just interest.
âYouâre Harrington,â you say.
âYeah,â he replies. âAnd youâre Hargrove, right?â
ÂŽÂŽMayfield, actuallyÂŽÂŽ
He blinks. âYouÂŽre not related?â
ÂŽÂŽStep-brothersÂŽÂŽ
A small smile tugs at his mouth before he can stop it. âMakes sense.â
You arch an eyebrow. âDoes it?â
''Yeah, kindaÂŽÂŽ
âSo,â you ask, pushing off the wall, stepping closer. Not too close. Just enough. âWhat are you doing back here, Steve Harrington?â
He hesitates, then shrugs. âNeeded air.â
You nod. You both remain silent.
"Well," you say, "see you later."
Steve watches you walk away, your red hair gleaming against the gray walls.
And for the first time since everything started falling apart, Steve thinks that maybe something new has just come into his life.
