Hello, for a request, could it please be a law and shanks (separate) x reader where the reader has either abandonment issues or attachment issues? So for example, if they think law/shanks is pulling away, they’ll distance themselves first, and it starts to affect their relationship? Thanks
Stay with me
gn!reader
characters: law, shanks
a/n: I used both abandonment issues and attachment issues so that I could contrast traits between law/shanks and the reader to create tension and emotional depth — hope you’ll like it this way!
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── .✦ Law:
tags: established relationship, abandonment issues, hurt/comfort, emotional tension
words count: 3.7k
The Polar Tang is quiet tonight. Too quiet.
Law sits at his desk, writing notes about a patient. The lamp makes a small circle of light over his papers. Everything else is dark.
You sit on the bed behind him, hugging your knees. You watch his back. He has been silent for hours.
You bite your lip.
“Law,” you say softly “Are you mad at me?”
His pen stops. He looks over his shoulder, eyebrows pulling together “No. Why would I be mad?”
“You’re… quiet today,” you whisper “More than usual.”
Law sighs and turns back to his work “I’m working. That’s all.”
You nod, but something in your chest hurts. You stand up slowly and walk to him.
“Can I hug you?” you ask.
He pauses again “You always ask that.”
“Because… I don’t want to bother you.”
Law turns in his chair. His gold eyes look tired.
“You don’t bother me,” he says “Not unless I say so.”
You give a small smile “Can I, then?”
He nods once.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders. You lean your cheek against his hair. For a second he stays still… and then he lets out a long breath, relaxing slightly.
But only for a moment.
After a few seconds, he takes your hands and gently moves them off “Sorry. I need to finish this.”
And your heart drops.
“Oh,” you say “Right. Sorry. I’ll… I’ll just sit.”
You go back to the bed. You try to breathe normally, but your mind is loud.
He doesn’t want me close tonight. Maybe he’s tired of me. Maybe… maybe he’s pulling away.
Law keeps writing. The scratch of his pen feels sharp in the quiet room.
After a minute, he speaks “You’re upset.”
You freeze “No. I’m fine.”
“Liar.” he says without looking up.
Your throat tightens “I just… I don’t want to annoy you.”
“You’re not annoying.” his voice is flat, but honest. Law always means what he says.
You swallow “Then why do you push me away?”
He finally looks at you again, really looks.
“I’m not pushing you away,” he says “I’m trying to work.”
You stare at your hands “I know. I know, Law. It’s just… when you go quiet like this, I get scared.”
“Scared of what?”
You take a breath “That you don’t want me anymore.”
He blinks, like he didn’t expect that answer at all.
“Y/N,” he says slowly, “that makes no sense.”
Your voice cracks “It makes sense to me.”
He stands up. He walks to the bed. He sits beside you, not touching, but close enough that you feel his warmth.
“Look at me.” he says.
You do.
“I’m not leaving,” Law says “Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not unless you tell me to.”
Your eyes sting “But you always leave the room without saying anything. You stay silent for hours. I never know what you feel. I don’t know if you still want me.”
Law frowns deeply, thinking.
“That’s… not because of you. I just don’t talk much.” His voice is soft, almost awkward “I thought you understood that.”
“I do. But my brain won’t listen.”
He sighs “Then tell me. Don’t sit there hurting alone.”
You nod slowly.
He hesitates, then touches your hand, carefully.
“Come here.” he says, very quietly.
You lean into him, and he lets you. He even wraps an arm around your shoulders.
You had this same conversation many times. Law tells you he’s not leaving. You try to believe him.
But your brain… it never stops.
Every night, the same thoughts come back:
He’s losing interest. He doesn’t love me. I’m too much for him. One day he’ll get tired and walk away.
You know him. You know how he is. He’s not the kind of man who says “I love you” every minute. Not even every day.
He’s not one to hold your hand while walking around the ship. He’s not one to kiss you in front of the crew. He’s not one to hug you unless the room is empty.
He’s not clingy. He doesn’t like clinginess.
And that hurts even more.
Because you are clingy. And your brain keeps whispering that he hates that part of you.
Days pass.
Law gets busier with his captain work, doctor work, planning, training. He’s always moving. Always working. Always tired.
And of course, you start to feel… not wanted.
So you distance yourself.
Just a little at first.
You stop following him around. You stop asking for hugs. You stop waiting outside the infirmary. You stop touching him unless he touches you first.
The crew notices. Some look confused. Some whisper.
Law notices too, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t question it.
He actually thinks you finally understood him.
He thinks you realized he needs his space. He thinks you’re giving him room to focus on his work.
One evening, he enters your, basically shared, room. You’re lying on the bed with your back to him, pretending to read.
He stands at the door for a moment, watching you. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.
“You’re quiet lately…” he says.
You give a small, careful smile he can’t see “I’m just tired.”
Law nods like he accepts that. He thinks it’s normal.
He doesn’t realize he’s the reason you’re tired.
He sits at his desk and starts working. You stare at the wall, holding your breath so you don’t cry.
Minutes pass.
Then Law speaks again, voice flat but curious “You didn’t wait for me today.”
Your fingers tighten around the book.
“I didn’t want to bother you” you answer.
“You don’t bother me.” he says immediately.
But his tone is too calm. Too normal. No emotion.
It feels like he’s just saying it because he has to.
You turn a page without reading.
“I know,” you whisper “I’m just… giving you space.”
Law hums quietly, as if this makes sense to him.
“Okay… Good.” he says.
Your heart cracks.
You don’t respond. You can’t. Your throat hurts too much.
He goes back to writing, believing everything is fine. Believing you finally understand his position.
He has no idea you’re breaking apart right next to him.
You wake up early the next morning. Law is still asleep beside you, breathing slow and deep. His hair is messy, his eyes closed, his arm loose on the blankets, he looks peaceful.
You stare at him for a moment. Normally, you would kiss his forehead. Normally, you would stay there until he wakes up.
Not today.
You get up quietly, grab your clothes, and slip out of the room without making a sound.
A few of the crew are already eating. You force a small smile.
“Morning” you say.
“Good morning!” Bepo says, cheerful as always.
You sit with them and start eating. You try to focus on your plate, not your feelings.
It doesn’t last long.
Bepo tilts his head “Where’s Captain? You two usually eat together.”
Your stomach tightens.
“He’s sleeping.” you answer quickly, eyes on your food.
Penguin leans forward with a stupid smirk “OOOH, you tired him so much last night??”
Shachi elbows him “Penguin—”
You don’t laugh. You don’t even look at him.
“Yeah… no.” you say quietly.
Your voice is flat. Dead, almost.
The three of them freeze. They exchange a worried, confused and uncomfortable look. They can tell something is wrong.
You push your plate a little.
“So… do we reach the new island today?” you ask, trying to sound normal.
Bepo answers quickly, kind of pretending he doesn’t notice your mood “We already reached it! When Captain wakes up, we can go look around. It’s a big village. Looks nice!”
You nod “Thank you.”
You stand up and grab your finished plate.
“I’ll get off,” you say “I’ll go look around alone today.”
The three of them stop eating.
Penguin and Shachi stare at you with big, confused eyes. Bepo’s ears drop a little.
Shachi speaks first, voice soft “Are you sure? Why don’t you wait for us and go all together?”
You turn and give them a smile, or something that tries to be a smile.
“I just want some alone time” you say “Don’t worry. See you guys later.”
You walk away before they can say anything else.
Behind you, the crew exchange a silent glance.
They all think the same thing: Something is wrong and Law has no idea.
Law wakes up alone.
The bed is cold. Your side is empty. The room is quiet.
He slowly sits up, rubbing his eyes. You always wake him gently, or sit beside him, or at least move around the room.
He frowns, confused, but shrugs it off at first. Maybe you just woke up early. Maybe you’re with the crew.
He gets dressed and goes to the dining hall.
The moment Law steps in, the room goes stiff.
Bepo stops eating mid-bite. Penguin straightens his back like he’s being judged. Shachi just stares at his plate.
Law blinks “What’s wrong with you three?”
“N-Nothing, Captain!” Penguin squeaks.
Law narrows his eyes. He can always tell when his crew is hiding something.
“Where’s Y/N?” he asks.
Bepo puffs his cheeks nervously “They, uh… already ate.”
Law waits for more.
Penguin slowly adds, “They, um… left.”
“Left?” Law repeats.
Shachi nods quickly “They went to look around the island.”
Law crosses his arms “Alone?”
Penguin gulps “Yes, Captain.”
Law’s face doesn’t move. No anger. No surprise.
Just… stillness.
But his eyes sharpen like knives.
“And none of you stopped them?” he asks.
“We tried!” Bepo says, ears dropping “They said they wanted some alone time.”
Law goes silent for a moment.
Bepo finally asks, “Did… something happen between you two?”
Law looks away, jaw tightening “No.”
But the way he says it isn’t convincing.
Then he asks, quietly but firmly “What did they look like?”
Penguin rubs the back of his neck “…Sad.”
“Really sad…” Shachi adds.
Bepo nods “They didn’t smile at all.”
Law closes his eyes for a second. A very, very small sigh escapes him “…I see.”
He turns to leave.
Bepo quickly stands “Captain—! Do you want us to go look for them?”
“No,” Law answers “I’ll go.”
Penguin hesitates “Captain… are you sure everything is okay?”
Law stops at the door but doesn’t look back “I thought things were okay,” he says softly “But it seems I was wrong.”
And with that, he walks out, coat swaying behind him, heading toward the island.
Not rushing. Not running. But moving with a purpose the crew almost never sees.
A purpose that says: I need to find them. Now.
The village is big, noisy, and full of people moving around, sellers yelling, children running, travelers talking loudly. The smell of food fills the air.
Law walks through the crowd, scanning every corner. His steps are fast, sharp, focused.
He checks the market. The docks. The small side streets.
Nothing.
His jaw tightens.
Where did they go?
He takes another turn, heading toward a quieter part of the village, away from the noise, away from the main road. A place someone would go to be alone.
And finally… he sees you, sitting on a small stone bench under a tree, staring at the ground. Your shoulders are tense, your body small and tired-looking. You’re not crying, but you look like you did earlier… or like you could at any second.
Law stops for a moment… just watching you.
You don’t see him.
He walks closer. His boots make a soft sound on the dirt, and you look up instantly.
Your eyes widen a little “…Law?”
He stands in front of you, hands in his pockets, trying to look calm, but his eyes are sharp and full of questions.
“I was looking for you” he says.
You look away “I just wanted some air.”
“On a new island? Alone?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
You shrug “I’m fine. You didn’t need to come.”
Law stares at you for a long second. Then he says quietly “You’re avoiding me.”
You swallow “No, I’m not.”
“Y/N” his voice is firmer now “Don’t lie to me.”
Your chest tightens.
“I’m not lying,” you try again “I just needed space. Isn’t that what you also want?”
Law frowns “…What?”
You exhale shakily and stand up, turning away from him.
“You want space, Law. You always want space,” you say softly “So I’m giving it to you.”
He takes a slow breath, then he says “That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” Your voice cracks “You don’t like clingy people. You don’t like being touched when you work. You don’t like PDA. You don’t like when I follow you. You don’t—”
“Stop.” Law steps forward.
You swallow again but keep talking, voice trembling “You don’t do any of those things, and that’s fine. That’s who you are. But every day I felt like I was bothering you more and more. And I kept thinking that maybe… maybe you were getting tired of me.”
Law freezes like your words hit him straight in the heart.
You laugh weakly and look away “Today I thought… maybe you’d be happier if I gave you space. Maybe you’d breathe easier without me.”
Law finally moves and grabs your wrist gently, not hard, but enough to make you look at him.
His voice is low and tense “Why would you think I breathe easier without you?”
You blink, surprised by the emotion in his voice.
He steps closer.
“You think I’m losing interest?” he asks “You think I don’t want you? That I’m about to leave?”
You look down “…Yes.”
He stares at you for a long moment.
Then he says something he almost never says, something raw and honest “Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you.”
Your breath catches.
“And I wouldn’t chase after you,” he adds, “if I planned to leave.”
Your heart stings again, but this time for a different reason.
You whisper, “Then why… why do you act like you don’t care?”
Law exhales, long and tired “…Because I don’t know how to act different.”
You stare at him.
He shakes his head slightly.
“I’m not good with words. I’m not good with affection. I’m not good with people being close.” He pauses “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
You feel your throat tighten.
“I thought you’d get tired of me…” you say softly.
“I’m not tired of you,” he answers “I’m tired of not understanding what you need.”
Your eyes widen.
Law looks down at your hand in his.
“Tell me what I’m missing,” he says quietly “I can’t fix what I don’t see.”
You look down at his hand holding your wrist. His touch is warm. Careful. Real.
You take a shaky breath.
“I fell for you because of who you are… how you are.” you say softly.
Law’s eyes lift to yours.
“I never wanted you to change,” you continue “I don’t want you to be someone else just because I have abandonment issues. That’s my problem. Not yours.”
Law’s brows tighten. He looks like he’s trying to understand every word you say, trying to read every tiny expression on your face.
“You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ every day,” you add “You don’t have to hold my hand in public. You don’t have to be clingy. I don’t want to force you into something you’re not.”
You look away, voice small “I’m scared of losing you. That’s all.”
Silence fills the air. Soft but heavy.
Law lets go of your wrist only to take your hand instead… slower, gentler, like he’s asking for permission.
“Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m not trying to be someone else.”
You nod “I know.”
He studies your face, eyes sharp and serious.
Then he asks “Then what can I do for you to believe me, Y/N?”
Your heart stops. You stare at him. You’ve had so many conversations like this, but he has never said something like that… never this blunt, never this honest, never this open.
He looks… almost frustrated. But not with you. With himself.
Like he truly wants to understand. Like he truly wants to help.
You freeze, shocked.
“You… you really mean that?” you whisper.
“Yes,” he says immediately “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
Your mouth opens, then closes.
You think. And think. But the harder you try to find an answer, the more empty your mind feels.
“I don’t know…” you finally whisper.
Law blinks “…You don’t know?”
You shake your head slowly.
“I don’t know what I need. I just… get scared.” Your voice cracks again “I don’t know what would make me believe you won’t leave. Nothing feels enough when my brain tells me the worst.”
Law exhales, not annoyed, not angry. He seems almost… softer.
He steps closer, close enough that his coat brushes your leg.
“Then we figure it out.” he says.
You look up at him, eyes wide.
He continues, tone steady “I can’t read your mind. And you can’t read mine. So we talk. Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s confusing. Even when we don’t know what the hell we’re doing.”
Your chest tightens.
He holds your hand a little firmer, not letting go.
“And if you can’t tell me what you need,” he says, “then tell me how you feel. Start there.”
You swallow hard.
“Law…” you whisper.
He tilts his head slightly “Yes?”
You take a shaky breath.
“I feel scared every time you’re quiet,” you admit “I feel unwanted when you’re distant. I feel like I’m annoying you when I’m clingy. I feel like one day you’ll wake up and think you don’t want me anymore.”
Law stares at you, listening.
“…Okay” he says quietly.
You blink “O-Okay?”
“Yes. Okay.” He squeezes your hand “You tell me that. Every time it happens.”
Your eyes sting again.
“You won’t get tired of hearing it?” you ask.
“No,” he says “I’ll get tired of you hiding it.”
Your breath catches.
You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect him to be so… real.
Law takes a slow breath and adds “Just don’t walk away from me without telling me something is wrong. That’s all I ask.”
He looks at you for a long second. Then he looks away, jaw tense, ears turning red.
He lets out a small breath and says, quietly “For the record… I fell for you for who and how you are as well, Y/N.”
You blink, surprised.
He keeps staring at the ground, like the words are too embarrassing to say while looking at you.
“Don’t think that just because I look like I don’t enjoy PDA…” His voice drops even lower “…or you being clingy… that I actually don’t like it.”
Your heart jumps.
“…Law?” you whisper.
He turns even redder, ears burning.
“I said what I said.” he mumbles, refusing to look at you.
For a moment you don’t say anything. You’re too shocked and too touched.
You slowly reach out and place your arms around him, pulling him into a hug.
You expect him to stiffen, to pull back, to freeze like he always does when someone hugs him unexpectedly in public.
But this time… He doesn’t. He lets you.
You feel his body tense a little at first, like he’s surprised.
Then, slowly, you feel him relax under your arms.
His shoulders drop. His breathing evens out. His hand lifts hesitantly and rests on your back, fingers curling into your shirt.
“Y/N…” he says softly, almost whispering into your shoulder.
“Yes?” you ask, voice muffled against his chest.
“Don’t think I hate the way you are.”
You close your eyes, holding him tighter.
“I won’t,” you whisper “Not anymore.”
You feel him exhale against your neck, a long breath he’s been holding for too long.
He leans just a bit closer enough to show you something important, that he trusts you.
And for Law, and for you, that means everything.
You stay in Law’s arms for a while, the world around you quiet.
Then you slowly pull back to look at him.
His face is red.
His eyes are avoiding yours.
But he doesn’t let go of you.
You smile softly “…You okay?”
He clears his throat “I’m fine.”
You’re still holding hands.
He notices.
You notice him noticing.
And you expect him to pull away like he always does in public.
But instead… he tightens his grip.
“Let’s go back to the ship,” he says “Together.”
Your heart feels warm, almost too warm.
“You want to walk like this?” you ask, raising your joined hands.
Law’s ears turn pink again.
He looks away “…Yes. Don’t make me repeat it.”
You giggle and he relaxes even more at the sound.
On the way back, he doesn’t talk much, but he keeps brushing his thumb over your hand.
Slow.
Gentle.
His way of saying: I’m here.
When you reach the ship, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin are standing outside like they’ve been waiting for hours.
Penguin’s eyes widen “Captain… is holding hands?”
Shachi elbows him hard “Shut up! Don’t scare them!”
Bepo’s face lights up “I’m glad you two are okay!”
Law glares at all of them “Don’t comment on things that are none of your business.”
But he still doesn’t drop your hand.
The crew exchange looks… happy, relieved looks, but say nothing else because they want to live.
You reach Law’s room and he lets you inside first and closes the door behind you.
Then he stands there, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
You tilt your head “What is it?”
He looks like he’s trying to force words out of his mouth.
“I’m not good at… comforting” he admits “I don’t always know what to say.”
You smile gently “You're better than you think.”
He slowly walks closer.
Then he lifts a hand and touches your cheek carefully, almost like he’s scared to get it wrong.
“I’m trying.” he says.
Your heart melts instantly.
“I know,” you whisper, leaning into his touch “I can tell.”
Law looks at your lips for half a second, then immediately looks away like he didn’t.
You grin “You can kiss me, you know.”
His ears turn red again.
“I—I know that” he mutters.
You step closer, closing the distance “Then do it.”
He hesitates… then gently cups your chin and pulls you in for a soft kiss.
Not rushed.
Not messy.
Slow.
Warm.
Real.
When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
You press your forehead to his.
“…And I’ll try to trust that.” you whisper.
He nods once, firmly, his hand still on your cheek “That’s all I want.”
── .✦ Shanks:
tags: established relationship, avoidant attachment, hurt/comfort, fluff, teasing crew
words count: 2.8k
The deck is loud, between laughter, clinking bottles and someone shouting about food.
Shanks sits on a crate near the table, one arm hanging loose, a bottle in his hand. He looks relaxed, but he’s not.
You sit a few steps away from him, leaning against the railing, arms crossed. Close enough to hear him. Far enough to breathe.
Shanks looks at you and then at the empty space next to him.
He pouts.
“You know,” he says loudly, “there’s a very nice spot right here.”
You don’t move.
“I’m fine here.” you answer calmly.
He leans back, dramatic “Wow. Cold.”
Benn Beckman takes a slow drag from his cigarette “Y/N doesn’t like being glued to you, Captain.”
“I’m not glued,” Shanks argues “I’m just… emotionally attached.”
Yasopp laughs “You sound whiny again.”
“I am not whiny…” Shanks says immediately.
Lucky Roux grins “You are. Especially when they ignore you.”
You keep staring at the sea like none of this matters.
Shanks sighs loudly “You don’t even care, do you?”
You shrug “About what?”
“About me suffering,” he says, hand to his chest “Deeply.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Ouch.”
The crew laughs again.
Shanks gets up and walks closer to you, standing just a bit too near. You shift your weight to creating space.
He notices.
“…You always do that.” he says, quieter now.
“Do what?” you ask.
“Move away.”
You look at him for a second and then back at the sea.
“I like space.”
“Yeah,” he says softly “You really do.”
There’s no anger in his voice, just something sad but playful, and, most importantly, real.
He tries again, lighter this time “Come on. Sit with me. Just for a bit.”
You shake your head “I’m good.”
He groans and drops back onto the crate.
“Cruel…” he tells the crew.
Benn smirks “You chose this.”
“I chose love,” Shanks replies “And now love refuses to hold my hand.”
Lucky Roux points at you “They don’t even look guilty.”
You really don’t.
Shanks looks at you again, eyes soft now, no teasing.
“You know I like being close to you.” he says.
“I know.” you answer.
“And you still don’t want it?”
You hesitate.
“I just don’t need it right now” you say instead.
Shanks watches you carefully, then he smiles gently and patiently.
“Okay,” he says “I’ll wait.”
The crew quiets down a little because they all know that tone.
Shanks never forces, but he also never gives up.
And you keep staring at the sea, pretending your heart isn’t beating too fast just because he wants to be close.
Days pass.
The ship slows down as the sun starts to set.
“Land ho!” someone shouts.
The crew gets busy fast… ropes, orders, laughter. Shanks jumps up, suddenly excited like a kid.
“New island!” he says, grinning “Food, drinks, maybe trouble.”
You move toward the edge of the deck, looking at the island ahead. It’s calm, warm and quiet.
Shanks comes up beside you.
“Hey,” he says softly “Wanna explore together?”
You don’t look at him “I’ll look around later.”
His smile drops just a little.
“Later?” he repeats “Why not when we arrive?”
You shrug “I like seeing things alone first.”
Lucky Roux laughs from behind you “They’re rejecting you again, Captain.”
Shanks groans “Stop announcing it.”
Benn smirks “You notice they always walk ahead of you?”
Shanks looks at you. You’re already moving toward the plank.
“…You do,” he says quietly “You always walk ahead.”
You pause, then answer without turning around “I just walk faster.”
The crew gets off the ship in groups. Laughing. Talking. Touching shoulders.
Shanks walks behind you this time, hands in his pockets.
Yasopp leans down and whispers loudly “He looks like a kicked puppy.”
“I do not.” Shanks snaps.
“You do.” Benn says calmly.
You hear them, but you don’t react.
On the island, Shanks tries again.
He reaches for your hand.
You step aside.
“I don’t like holding hands in public.” you say quickly.
Shanks freezes “…You didn’t mind last week.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
You don’t answer.
He laughs awkwardly, scratching his head “Wow. Okay. Today I’m really not winning, huh?”
The crew watches carefully now. The teasing stops.
Shanks lowers his voice “Did I do something wrong?”
You shake your head “No. You’re fine.”
“But you keep pulling away.”
You finally look at him, and he sees your eyes are calm.
“I just need space,” you say “Please don’t make it a big deal.”
Shanks stares at you for a long second.
Then he smiles again softer, careful.
“Okay,” he says “I won’t.”
But it hurts anyway.
That night, the crew eats together in the village. You sit across from Shanks, not next to him.
He complains quietly the whole time.
“They used to steal my food.” he mutters.
Lucky Roux laughs “You’re dramatic.”
“I’m emotionally neglected.” Shanks says.
You keep eating and don’t look at him. But when you stand up to leave early, Shanks watches you go and this time, he doesn’t joke.
He just follows you with his eyes.
Thinking.
Waiting.
Weeks later.
You say yes this time. Not because you really want to, but because you said no too many times already.
Shanks looks surprised when you agree.
“Really?” he asks, eyes lighting up “Just us?”
You nod “Just us.”
He grins like a kid “Great! I knew today would be my lucky day.”
You force a small smile.
The island is beautiful. Wide streets. Warm wind. Soft light.
Shanks walks next to you, close.
He reaches for your hand. You see it coming and so you move your hand away and pretend to look at a stand.
“Oh— look at that!” you say.
His hand stops in the air.
“…Right…” he mutters, pulling it back.
He laughs it off at first “No hands. Got it…”
You walk side by side but not touching. No brushing fingers. No shoulders. No accidental contact.
Shanks talks less than usual.
You notice. You just don’t know what to do about it.
Later, you leave the village and walk into a quiet valley. Green hills. No people. No noise.
It’s peaceful.
Shanks slows down “So,” he says softly, “this place is nice.”
“It is…” you answer.
Silence falls again.
Then he reaches for you. Slow this time. Careful.
You panic. You step back without thinking.
“I— I’m sorry,” you say quickly “I just…”
Shanks freezes.
His hand stays in the air for a second… then drops.
He looks at it, like it betrayed him.
“…Guess it’s my fault,” he says quietly “always reaching when I shouldn’t.”
Your chest tightens.
“That’s not— I didn’t mean—” You shake your head, trying to explain “It’s just… you knew how I was when you confessed to me.”
The words come out wrong. Too sharp. Too cold.
Shanks looks up slowly.
“…Yeah,” he says “You didn’t even confess back.”
Your heart skips.
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it.
“This…” he says, pointing between you and him, “…this just happened.”
He lowers his hand “And I don’t even know how.”
Silence crashes between you.
You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, but you’re scared.
Scared of being too close. Scared of needing him. Scared of saying the wrong thing.
Scared of saying everything.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” you whisper.
“But you did say it.” he answers gently.
He doesn’t sound angry, and that almost makes it worse.
Shanks takes a step back, giving you space.
“I don’t want to push you,” he says “But I don’t want to pretend this doesn’t hurt either.”
You open your mouth but nothing comes out.
Your fears sit heavy in your chest, locked behind your ribs.
You can’t explain them. You can’t name them.
You just stand there, shaking a little, watching the man you care about look confused and sad because of you. And you hate yourself for it.
Shanks exhales slowly. He rubs the back of his neck, looking at the ground.
“I don’t think you meant to hurt me,” he says “And I know you don’t pull away to be cruel.”
You look at him, surprised.
He gives a small, sad smile “You’re scared. I can see that.”
Your chest tightens.
“But,” he adds gently, “I can’t fix something you won’t tell me.”
You lower your head “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he says right away “That’s why I’m not mad.”
He steps back, giving you space again… too much space.
“I’m going back to the ship now,” he says “see you later.”
That’s all.
He turns around and walks away, leaving you alone in the valley.
You stand there for a long time.
Thinking.
About his hand in the air. About his sad smile. About how patient he’s been. About how scared you are.
You hate all this.
When you finally head back to the ship, the sun is already lower. The deck feels… different.
Too quiet.
The crew is there, but they’re not laughing. No jokes. No shouting.
Benn is leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Lucky Roux isn’t eating. Yasopp isn’t smiling.
You don’t think too much about it.
You just ask, softly “Where’s Shanks?”
The crew looks at each other.
Benn answers, calm but serious “He’s been in his room since he came back.”
“…I see…” you say.
No one stops you when you walk past them.
You stop in front of Shanks’ door.
Your heart beats too fast.
You raise your hand and knock.
“Yeah?” his voice answers from inside.
“It’s me…” you say.
There’s a short pause “…Come in.”
You open the door slowly and step inside.
Shanks is sitting on the bed, elbow on his knee, staring at the floor. He looks up when he sees you.
“Oh,” he says quietly “Hey.”
The door closes behind you and suddenly, there’s nowhere left to run.
The room is quiet.
He looks tired. Not drunk-tired. Not lazy-tired.
More like emotionally tired.
You stand near the door, not moving.
“…You okay?” he asks softly.
You nod, then shake your head “I don’t know.”
He lets out a small breath “Fair answer.”
Silence again.
You stare at the floor as your hands shake a little.
Shanks notices.
He stands up slowly and then he stops a few steps away.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” he says “But I don’t want us to stay like this.”
You swallow hard “I don’t want that either.”
Your voice is already breaking.
Shanks tilts his head, gentle “Then talk to me. Even if it’s messy. Even if it doesn’t sound nice.”
You laugh weakly “It won’t.”
“That’s okay,” he says “I’ve heard worse.”
That almost makes you smile.
You take a deep breath.
“I’m scared…” you finally say.
Shanks nods “I know.”
You look up, surprised “You do?”
“Yeah,” he answers quietly “I just don’t know of what.”
Your chest tightens.
“I’m scared of needing you,” you whisper “Scared of wanting you too much. Scared that one day I’ll wake up and realize I can’t function without you.”
Shanks doesn’t interrupt, so you keep going.
“I’ve always been fine on my own. I like being alone. I like space. I like knowing I can leave if I need to.” your hands clench “But with you… it feels different. And that terrifies me.”
Shanks’ expression softens.
“I pull away because if I don’t,” you continue, voice shaking, “I feel like I’ll fall too deep. And if that happens… I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you.”
Your eyes burn.
“So I keep distance. I pretend I don’t care. I act cold.” You laugh through the pain “Because caring feels dangerous.”
The room stays silent.
Then Shanks speaks, voice low “…You think I’d leave.”
You hesitate “…Yes.”
He exhales slowly and runs a hand through his hair.
“Damn,” he mutters “I was afraid of that.”
You look at him.
He looks back at you, serious now.
“You know,” he says, “from my side… it feels like I’m chasing someone who keeps stepping back.”
Your heart sinks.
“I start wondering if I imagined things,” he continues “If I pushed too hard. If you’re just… tolerating me.”
“That’s not true.” you say quickly.
“I know,” he answers “Now. But before? I didn’t.”
He looks away.
“When I confessed,” he says, quieter, “I knew you agreed to it but didn’t confess back. I told myself it was okay. That feelings grow differently. And that we have different ways of showing our feelings.”
He swallows “But sometimes… I feel lost. Like I don’t know where I stand with you.”
That hurts more than you expect.
“I never meant to make you feel that way…” you whisper.
“I know,” he says again “That’s why I stayed and I still stay.”
You look at him, eyes wide “You stay?”
He laughs softly “Yeah. Because even when you push me away, you still look back.”
He steps closer, without touching.
“You care,” he says “You’re just scared of what that means.”
Your tears finally fall.
“I don’t know how to be close without panicking,” you admit “I don’t know how to let someone love me without wanting to run.”
Shanks’ voice softens even more.
“Then don’t run,” he says “Just stand still. I’ll meet you where you are.”
You cover your face with your hands “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
He answers without hesitation “You already did.” then, gently, “And I’m still here.”
You break.
A quiet sob escapes you.
Shanks moves instantly, but carefully “Hey… hey.”
He opens his arms, not forcing.
“I’m not asking you to change overnight,” he says “I’m not asking for constant touching or big confessions.”
You lean into him before your brain can stop you.
He freezes for half a second, then he hugs you. Warm. Solid. Safe.
“I just want honesty,” he murmurs into your hair “When you pull away, tell me why. Don’t leave me guessing.”
You nod against his chest.
“I can try” you whisper.
“That’s enough,” he says “Trying is enough.”
He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against yours.
“I’m not here to trap you,” he says softly “I’m here because I choose you. Every day.”
Your chest aches but in a good way.
“And if one day you need space,” he adds, “take it. Just don’t disappear on me.”
You breathe in slowly “…Okay.”
He smiles then. Small. Real.
“See?” he says quietly “We’re figuring it out.”
For the first time, you don’t step away, and Shanks doesn’t rush you.
You look at him for a long second, then, before fear can stop you, you lean forward and kiss him.
It’s soft and careful.
Shanks freezes for half a second, then smiles into the kiss like he just won something precious.
When you pull back, his eyes are bright.
“…Wow,” he murmurs “Okay. Yeah. That was definitely worth the emotional damage.”
You laugh quietly, and realizing he’s truly happy, makes something warm bloom in your chest.
It makes you happy too.
Later you walk toward the dining area together.
Your fingers touch.
You hesitate, but then you let your hand slide into his.
He looks down, surprised, then smiles wide. He squeezes your hand gently, like he’s afraid to scare you.
You’re almost near the crew when Shanks suddenly stops, making you stop as well.
He gently pulls his hand away.
You look at him, confused, but he’s smiling. Soft. Reassuring.
Before you can say anything, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your forehead.
Your breath catches.
Then he walks past you, heading straight to the crew like nothing happened.
“Alright!” he says loudly “Who’s hungry? Because I am starving.”
The mood changes instantly. Laughter. Teasing. Relief.
It’s like someone turned the light back on.
You stay where you are for a second, watching him joke and laugh, watching the crew relax around him again.
You smile.
Then you join them.
After a few minutes, Shanks disappears and comes back with a plate of food.
He places it in front of you.
“Eat,” he says simply “You didn’t earlier.”
You look at the plate, then at him.
Slowly, you take it…
…and put it aside.
Then you step closer and wrap your arms around his neck.
The deck goes quiet.
No jokes. No teasing. No comments at all.
The crew watches silently.
Shanks freezes.
You feel his whole body stiff, breath caught.
For one second, you worry you went too far, for him and also for yourself.
Then…
His shoulders drop.
His body relaxes.
His one arm comes up and settles around your back, warm and strong, holding you close.
You rest your forehead against his shoulder, heart racing.
Shanks lets out a small laugh, soft and almost shaky.
“…You’re going to kill me one day.” he whispers.
You smile against him.
But for the first time, you don’t pull away, and for the first time, neither does he.
