hiii! may i request an angsty zoro x reader, in which things started changing and slowly everything just kinda fell apart. they were both trying to act like it was fine but deep down they were scared and desperate and still holding on to whatever was left, hoping it wouldn’t break. (that one song did smth to me)
happy writing(≧▽≦)
The Lie We Share ₊⊹
⤷ ೃ࿔*:･ Roronoa Zoro x Reader ˎˊ˗
➜ Words: 11.3k
⊹₊⟡⋆ Warnings: Heavy angst, relationship strain, tense arguments, emotional withdrawal, open ended ending, reckless behavior, HINTED SUICIDAL IDEALIZATION PLEASE BE AWARE.
➜ A/N: yeah so…uhm, I shed a tear well writing this btw. It’s actally sad so be aware. /•᷅•᷄\੭
The salt-crusted wood of the docks always smelled of tar and old stories, a scent that clung to your skin long after the sun dipped below the horizon. Most people described love as a roar—a sudden, violent percussion of fireworks that demanded an audience. But as you navigated the narrow walkways of the harbor, you realized the love that actually lasted was a quiet thing. It was steady, stubborn, and patient, like the horizon line that refused to waver no matter how much the sea thrashed beneath it.
You never placed much stock in the idea of love at first sight. To you, love was a choice made every morning. It was the act of staying. It was learning the specific weight of someone’s silence and memorizing the rhythm of their breathing until it became the metronome for your own life.
You met him in the most unremarkable way imaginable.
There were no crashing waves to underscore the moment, no dramatic rescues or swords drawn in your defense. There was only the heat of a lazy afternoon and a man with moss-green hair leaning against a stack of crates as if the entire world bored him.
Everyone knew his name. Roronoa Zoro. The demon of the Straw Hat crew, a man whose body was a map of jagged scars and iron-willed discipline. When he walked through a market, voices dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. People watched him the way prey watches a predator—shoulders stiff, eyes darting, bracing for the moment they might become collateral damage.
You didn't flinch.
You were hauling a crate twice your size, your muscles burning and your vision swimming with sweat. When the wood slipped and you muttered a sharp curse under your breath, you looked up to find him watching you. His singular visible eye was sharp, tracking your movements not with intimidation, but with a quiet, piercing curiosity.
Most people looked away. You simply adjusted your grip, puffed a stray hair out of your face, and caught his gaze.
"Are you going to keep staring," you asked, your voice dry, "or are you going to help?"
The silence that followed was heavy. He narrowed his eye, studying you as if you were a puzzle piece from the wrong set. Then, wordlessly, he stepped forward. He took the weight from your arms as if it were nothing more than a feather. You thanked him like he was any other dockhand, and perhaps that was the spark. You didn't see a bounty or a legend; you saw a man who looked tired in a way that sleep couldn't fix. You saw a man who stood as if he was always bracing for an impact that never came.
You spoke to him the next day. And the day after that. You complained about the humidity; you teased him about his legendary inability to find a straight path to the marketplace. He would scowl, a dark, fearsome expression that you quickly realized was just his way of admitting you were right.
Love didn’t strike you like lightning. It rooted.
Slowly, the world began to shift. You noticed how he would move a fraction closer when a crowd grew too dense, his hand hovering near the small of your back. You learned the nuances of his quiet—the difference between the silence of peace and the silence of a mind working too hard. He, in turn, watched you. He saw that you didn't recoil from the blood on his haramaki after a skirmish. He noticed how your hands never trembled when you stitched his skin. You never asked him to be softer, but somehow, in the space between your shoulders, he was.
He didn't have the words for it, so he used his presence. He would sit beside you instead of across from you. He’d offer you the first bite of a meal Sanji had prepared, grumbling that he wasn't hungry anyway. He stood between you and danger without a second thought, yet he never treated you as though you couldn't hold your own ground.
One night, under a sky so thick with stars they looked like spilled salt, the realization hit you with a terrifying weight. You weren't afraid of him leaving anymore. You were afraid of him getting hurt.
That was the moment the promise took hold. It wasn't a loud vow shouted for the world to hear; it was the quiet one you made in the hollow of your chest. You would stay. You would choose him, again and again, through every storm and every calm.
Zoro once told you he didn't believe in eternity. He spoke of rusting swords and failing bodies, of how even the strongest men eventually fall to the earth. You only smiled. You knew that eternity wasn't about time—it was about devotion. It was the way his calloused hand fit perfectly into yours. It was the way he trusted you with his back in the heat of a roar, and the way his heartbeat finally slowed when you pressed your forehead against his chest at the end of a long day.
When the world called him a monster, you called him by his name. And in those moments, he looked at you as if you were the only thing in the universe that made any sense at all.
Staying on the Thousand Sunny happened by accident at first. You’d bring a whetstone he’d forgotten, or a bottle of sake you claimed was a bargain, even though he saw you count out your last coins to buy it. You told yourself you were just being a friend to the crew, but the Straw Hats were far too observant for that lie to last.
Luffy was the first to say it aloud. He had a way of seeing the hidden truths in the wind. He sidled up to you at the railing one afternoon, his grin wider than the horizon.
"Oi," he said, "are you joining?"
"Joining what?" you asked, startled.
"The crew." Luffy tilted his head. "Zoro's face is different when you're around."
You looked toward the training deck. Zoro was a blur of motion, sweat glistening on his skin, muscles tensed as he swung his blades. He looked the same as always—until he paused. He looked up, his eye finding yours across the deck, checking to see if you were still there. When he saw you, his shoulders dropped just an inch. The tension left his jaw.
"I have my own life," you whispered, more to yourself than to the captain.
Luffy just shrugged, leaning back against the wood. "You can bring it with you."
The rest of the crew fell in line like a song. Nami teased you about "financial discussions" that were really just interrogations about your heart. Usopp claimed he’d seen the "romantic tension" from miles away through his goggles. Little Chopper asked with wide, innocent eyes if you were going to be Zoro's wife, a question that nearly sent you overboard in embarrassment.
Then there was Sanji. He walked into the galley to find you carefully bandaging a shallow cut on Zoro’s arm. The swordsman was uncharacteristically still, watching your focused expression with a look that bordered on reverence.
The cook's cigarette nearly fell from his lips. "Marimo," he said, his voice straining. "Since when do moss balls get girlfriends before I do?"
"Finish that sentence very carefully," you warned, not looking up from the gauze.
Sanji clutched his heart, lamenting the cruelty of a universe that gave the "scary" girl to the swordsman, but beneath the drama, there was a quiet acceptance. You didn't break the rhythm of the ship; you became a part of its pulse. Even Robin, with her knowing smile, murmured that it was a rare thing to see a swordsman soften, calling you special.
You didn't feel special. You felt human, and perhaps a little brave. Because staying meant choosing a life where the sea never promised a tomorrow. It meant choosing the man the world feared and finding the softness he kept hidden behind three blades.
It was a mundane, accidental, beautiful devotion—and it was yours.
The wind at the bow of the Thousand Sunny was a living thing, wild and salt-slicked as it tangled through your hair. You didn’t hear him approach—you never did—but you felt the shift in the air, the sudden, solid weight of his presence settling beside you. For a long time, the only sound was the rhythmic creak of the ship’s hull and the restless churning of the sea below.
“You don’t have to,” he said finally. His voice was a low rumble, barely rising above the white noise of the waves.
You turned your head to find him staring straight ahead, his profile cut sharp against the moonlight. “Have to what?”
“Stay.”
The word was heavy, hanging between you like a suspended breath. It wasn’t a plea for you to leave, nor was it a command to remain. It was something far rarer from a man like Roronoa Zoro: an offering of freedom. You searched his face, tracing the silver line of his scar and the stubborn set of his jaw. Beneath that iron exterior lay a vulnerability he guarded more fiercely than his life. For a swordsman who claimed eternity was a myth, he looked at you in that moment like he was terrified to let himself hope for it.
“I know,” you whispered, reaching out. Your fingers found his—calloused, scarred, and warm. “I want to.”
His grip tightened instantly, a grounding pressure that felt almost like disbelief.
The following morning was a chaotic blur of sunlight and loud declarations. Luffy, with a mouth full of sea-king meat and a grin that could rival the sun, made the announcement before you’d even had your first cup of coffee.
“She’s staying!” he beamed, spraying crumbs across the galley table.
“I never actually—” you started, face flushing hot.
“You didn’t say no!” Luffy countered with flawless, circular logic.
From the corner of the room, Zoro let out a grunt that sounded suspiciously like a satisfied agreement. And just like that, without a signed contract or a formal ceremony, you were woven into the fabric of the crew. You weren’t there because you’d been recruited for a specific skill or because the ship would sink without you. You were there because, somewhere between those quiet dockside afternoons and the shared starlit silences, you had stopped being a visitor. You had become home.
Love with him was never a spectacle; it was built in inches. It lived in the comfortable space between your shoulders when you sat against the mast, saying nothing for hours while the rest of the crew spiraled into their usual brand of beautiful madness. You didn’t need to fill the quiet. He would sharpen his blades with a rhythmic shing-shing, and you would trace patterns into the weathered wood of the deck. You learned to read his grunts like a private dialect—the sharp one for annoyance, the soft exhale for exhaustion, and the low, vibrational one that meant he was perfectly content exactly where he was.
Training days became a silent dance of intimacy. He practiced at one end of the deck, muscles straining as his blades carved brutal, precise arcs through the air. You worked at the other, finding your own rhythm. You rarely sparred, but you felt his attention like a physical heat. His movements would shift when he knew you were watching—becoming sharper, more deliberate. If you stumbled during a drill, his blades would falter for the briefest of seconds, a silent check to ensure you were steady before he resumed his focus.
The storms, however, were different. When the sky bruised purple and the rain fell in blinding sheets, you found yourself leaning into the chaos, laughing as the ship tilted precariously. Then, you’d feel him. He wouldn't always touch you, but he would position his body to block the worst of the gale, acting as a living shield against the spray.
“You should go below,” he’d mutter, though he made no move to leave.
“So should you,” you’d challenge, and he’d simply stay put. When a particularly violent swell sent the deck lurching, his hand would find your wrist—firm, unyielding, anchoring you to the world until the clouds broke.
Later, when the sea calmed and the stars returned, a cup of sake would appear beside you. No explanation followed, just a faint shift in his posture as he angled himself toward you rather than the horizon.
There were nights when exhaustion claimed him, and you’d find him slumped in the crow’s nest, his jaw slack in a rare moment of unguarded rest. And on the nights you fell asleep on the deck after a long watch, you would wake to find his heavy, dark coat draped over you. You never saw him place it there, but he was always nearby, one eye half-open, guarding your breathing as if it were the most precious treasure on the Grand Line.
You learned his harder edges, too. You recognized the heavy silence that followed a blood-soaked battle and the way his shoulders tensed at the mention of things lost to time. He didn't use words for the things that mattered most, so you stopped asking for them. Instead, you would simply sit beside him, pressing your knee against his, proving that you weren't afraid of his ghosts. Eventually, his hand would find yours—not with desperation, but with a quiet, certain check.
The crew saw it, of course. To them, the two of you were as much a part of the ship as the lion figurehead. It didn't feel fragile; it felt like a mountain, slow-growing and unshakeable. There were no daily confessions or grand jealousies. He chose you every time he stepped into a fight to protect the life you shared. You chose him every time you cleaned the blood from his knuckles without flinching.
One evening, as the ocean turned to glass and the rest of the world slept, you sat together at the bow.
“You ever think about later?” you asked softly.
Zoro watched the horizon, his expression unreadable. “Later’s not promised.”
You hummed in agreement, the truth of their life at sea settling between you. But then, his fingers laced through yours with an absolute certainty that defied the dangers of their world.
“But as long as I’m here,” he said, his voice rough and low, “you’re not going anywhere.”
It wasn’t a cage; it was a vow. You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder and feeling the steady, rhythmic rise of his chest. Love with him wasn't declared in poetry. It was demonstrated in the way he shared his sake, the way he stood closer in the rain, and the way he guarded your sleep.
It felt permanent—not because of a spoken "forever," but because neither of you could ever imagine walking away.It happens on a day that has no business being significant. The sea is a vast, glassy mirror reflecting a sky so blue it feels like a dream, and the air carries the heavy, warm scent of summer. Behind you, the Sunny is alive with its usual brand of beautiful, domestic chaos. You can hear Luffy’s high-pitched laughter as he tangles with Usopp, the distant clatter of pans from Sanji’s kitchen, and Nami’s sharp, authoritative voice lecturing someone about the rising cost of supplies.
You are sitting on the grass deck, legs stretched out, focusing on the mundane task of patching a tear in one of Zoro’s sleeves. He is sitting directly across from you, his elbows resting on his knees, his singular eye fixed intently on your hands as they move the needle.
"You’re staring again," you murmur, your voice barely a ripple in the quiet space between you.
"Am not," he grunts.
"You are."
There is a long pause, the kind of silence that feels like it’s holding its breath.
"…Shut up," he finally says, though there is no bite in it.
You smile faintly, the needle pulling through the fabric with a soft skritch. A stray strand of hair slips from your tuck and tickles your cheek, dancing in the salt breeze. Before you can reach up to fix it, Zoro moves. It is almost absentminded, a reflexive motion as he reaches forward to brush the hair away from your eyes.
But his fingers linger.
It isn't an accident, and the weight of his touch sends a jolt through your chest. Your hands still, the needle forgotten in the fabric. You look up, and the world seems to narrow until it is just the two of you. There is no audience and no grand tension—just the quiet intimacy of the afternoon and the faint line between his brows that appears whenever he is thinking too hard.
He doesn’t look confused. He looks like a man who has been standing at the edge of a precipice for a long time, and he is finally done waiting for the wind to push him.
Neither of you speaks. It isn't a moment for declarations. He leans forward, moving with a deliberate slowness that gives you every chance to pull away, to turn the moment into a joke, to retreat. But you don't move. Your breaths mingle first, warm and steady, and then your lips press together.
It isn't the frantic, desperate kiss of a storybook. It feels inevitable. It feels like something that has existed between you for months simply decided it was time to take a physical shape. His hand slides to your jaw, his rough thumb warm against your skin. You feel the callouses of a life lived by the sword, the immense strength he holds so carefully in check just for you. He kisses you the way he does everything else—grounded, certain, and unshakeable.
You tilt into him, your eyes fluttering shut. The world doesn't stop. The sea doesn't roar. Somewhere on the other side of the mast, someone laughs too loudly at a joke you didn't hear. But here, in the shadow of the sails, there is only the quiet certainty of him.
When he pulls back, it is barely an inch. He rests his forehead against yours, his breath hitched just slightly. You open your eyes to find him watching you with a look of fierce, silent protection—as if he has decided in this very moment that you are a territory he will defend for the rest of his life.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice a low, gravelly vibration.
You huff a soft, breathless laugh. "You're asking me?"
His mouth twitches—the closest he ever gets to a true smile. Your hand slides up his chest, fisting lightly into the fabric over his heart, grounding yourself in its steady, powerful thud. It doesn't feel like a beginning; it feels like a confirmation. Every shared silence, every storm navigated together, every night spent guarding each other's sleep had been leading to this single, quiet point.
"Took you long enough," he mutters, pressing one more kiss to your forehead, gentler than the last.
You blink, startled. "Me?"
He grunts, standing up and offering you a hand to pull you to your feet. You take it, and when he doesn't let go—even as the crew starts to notice, even as Sanji begins a dramatic wail in the distance and Luffy grins like he’s won a bet—you realize something profound.
Nothing changed, and yet everything did. Love with him was never about a single moment; it was about the staying. And now, with your fingers laced together under the open sky, it feels less like a possibility and more like a promise that never needs to be spoken aloud.
In the days that follow, you don't suddenly become a different person. You don't cling to him, and there is no grand announcement. But a shift occurs in the hidden architecture of your lives. You become his north, and he becomes your anchor.
You notice it first on a crowded island. The marketplace is a sensory assault—too loud, too hot, with bodies pressing in from every direction. You feel your pulse begin to climb, that familiar spark of anxiety creeping under your skin. You don't say a word, but you don't have to. Zoro drifts closer. He doesn't make a scene; he simply adjusts his stride until his shoulder is firmly against yours, creating a silent, immovable wall between you and the chaos.
You exhale, the tension draining out of you. Later, when you tease him about "hovering," he scowls and looks away, but you both know the truth. The next time the crowd gets too thick, he is already there.
And then there are the fights.
He always returns with the same two words: "I'm fine." Even when he’s bleeding, even when his steps are heavy with the weight of a battle that would have broken anyone else. You trust him, so you don't rush into the fray, but you always wait at the edge of the battlefield with your heart in your throat. And every time he walks back through the dust, blood streaked across his skin and swords resting on his shoulder, you are the first thing his eye seeks out.
"You don't need to wait," he mutters one evening, wiping red from his jaw.
"I know," you reply evenly, meeting his gaze.
The point isn't that you need to be there; it's that you are.
Below deck, a ritual forms. You sit before him with a bowl of water and a clean cloth, dabbing at the cuts along his ribs. He pretends to be annoyed, grumbling that he can handle it himself, yet he sits there, perfectly still, letting you touch his broken edges in a way he would never allow another soul. You memorize every scar—the old silver lines and the fresh, angry red ones. Your fingers are reverent, gentle.
He watches you when he thinks you aren't looking, wondering how someone can look at his violence and his scars without a trace of fear. When you finish, you press your palm lightly over his heart.
"Don't scare me like that," you murmur.
His hand covers yours, pressing it deeper into his chest. "Not planning on dying." It isn't a joke; it’s a vow.
At night, the Sunny rocks gently on the waves, a cradle for the weary. You don't always sleep tangled together. Often, you lie back-to-back, your spine aligned with his. The steady heat of his body seeps through the fabric, grounding you in the dark. If you shift, he shifts. And sometimes, when he wakes from a nightmare he will never confess to, his hand wanders behind him until it finds yours.
You squeeze once. He squeezes back.
It is enough. It is more than enough. You don't need the fireworks or the grand declarations, because you have the quiet, enduring strength of a man who chooses you every single day.
The rare moments are the ones that settle most deeply into the marrow of your bones—the instances no one else is allowed to witness. On a quiet afternoon, when the rest of the crew has scattered to their own corners of the ship, it is just the two of you in the crow’s nest. The sun is a warm weight on your shoulders, and the sea stretches out in an endless, shimmering tapestry of blue.
You say something offhandedly sarcastic, a sharp-witted comment that usually earns a grunt of disapproval. But this time, he snorts. It isn't a huff or an exhale; it is a real laugh. It’s low and surprised, a rough melody escaping his throat as if he hadn’t intended to let it out.
You freeze, staring at him as if he’s grown a second head.
“What?” he asks, his guard slamming back into place, his voice immediately defensive.
“You laughed,” you breathe, eyes wide.
“Did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
He rolls his eye, looking away toward the horizon, but you catch the unmistakable, faint curve at the corner of his mouth. You lean into him, your own shoulders shaking with soft, infectious laughter, and for a fleeting moment, the world feels impossibly light. There are no battles to win, no bounties to outrun, and no heavy weight of dreams pressing down on your chest. There is only the two of you, suspended in a pocket of time that is simple and warm.
Neither of you ever uses the word “forever.” You don’t sit beneath the vast canopy of stars making grand, sweeping promises about growing old together. You don’t have to. Forever lives in the way he unconsciously matches his stride to yours on every new island. It’s in the way you reach for him in the dark without a second thought, and the way he follows when your steps falter. It lives in the quiet certainty that no matter how violent the sea becomes, you will turn your head—and he will be there.
It isn’t because fate declared it or because he swore a vow. It’s because, somewhere along the way, loving each other stopped being a choice you had to make and simply became who you are.
And then, slowly, the love stops being quiet.
It doesn’t transform through dramatic speeches or staged confessions; instead, it begins to spill over into the mundane parts of every day. It starts in the mornings. You’re often half-asleep at the galley table, chin propped in your palm, when Zoro walks in from his early training. His hair is damp, his shirt slung over his shoulder, and the scent of iron and sweat follows him. Without breaking stride or uttering a single syllable, he sets a cup of water in front of you before you can even think to ask.
You blink up at him through sleep-heavy eyes. “Thanks.”
He grunts, moving toward the bench. From the stove, Sanji huffs with exaggerated theater, waving a spatula. “Unbelievable! The moss-head notices her hydration but remains blind to my endless suffering!”
You smile into your cup, watching Zoro ignore him. But as he passes your chair, his hand rests briefly against the back of it—a small, casual touch, but a constant one. He always finds a way to touch you as he walks by.
Then come the louder moments.
Usopp challenges you to a harmless race across the deck one afternoon, and you accept with a grin. You are winning—almost—until your foot catches on a coil of rope. You brace for the impact of the wood, but you never hit the ground. Zoro catches you mid-fall, his arm hooked securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
The entire crew goes silent. You find yourself staring up into his eye, your heart hammering against your ribs.
“You’re clumsy,” he mutters, though his grip is tight.
“You love it,” you tease, breathless.
From the figurehead, Luffy bursts into a fit of cackling laughter. “He totally panicked! Zoro panicked!”
“I did not,” Zoro snaps, his face darkening.
“You screamed her name!” Usopp adds gleefully from behind the mast.
Zoro’s eye twitches, but he doesn't put you down right away. He keeps you anchored against him for a few beats too long, and maybe that is the loudest part of all.
Eventually, you start sitting together openly. It isn't just side-by-side anymore; it’s knees touching, his arm slung lazily over the back of your seat, his presence a constant perimeter. When you laugh too hard at one of Brook's jokes, you lean into his side without thinking. When he’s irritated by the chaos, your fingers slip into his hand beneath the table until his grip tightens and the tension finally drains from his frame.
The crew stops the teasing after a while. The reality of it becomes too obvious to poke fun at. You aren't fragile or fleeting; you are permanent.
On the sunniest days, you lie on the deck together. Zoro’s head rests in your lap, his swords within reach, while you comb your fingers through his short, green hair. He always pretends he’s awake, his breathing deep and steady.
“You’re drooling,” you murmur once, leaning over him.
He catches your wrist without even opening his eye. “Keep talking,” he rumbles.
You laugh softly and lean down to press a kiss to his temple. From a distance, Nami nudges Robin with a knowing smile. Robin only hums, her eyes warm with a quiet joy. Even Chopper beams, whispering loudly to anyone who will listen that the two of you are “so in loooove.”
You don’t deny it. You don't hide it. It becomes loud in battle, too. When an enemy lunges toward you, Zoro is there before the thought of fear can even form—steel flashing, stance wide, his fury sharp and immediate. You step back-to-back with him instinctively, two halves of a single, lethal whole.
“Left,” you warn.
He moves before the word is even fully out of your mouth.
When the fight ends and the adrenaline begins to ebb, you are both breathing hard. Blood streaks his cheek, and there’s a shallow cut on your shoulder. He turns to you first. Always you.
“You good?”
You nod, reaching out to him. “You?”
He scoffs, “Obviously.” But his hand cups the back of your neck anyway, pressing his forehead briefly to yours, needing the physical proof that you are solid, alive, and still standing beside him.
Later that night, the crew throws a celebration for no reason other than the fact that the sun rose and they are all still there to see it. There is music, food, and laughter echoing across the waves. You pull Zoro up to dance. He refuses. You insist, tugging at his hand until he groans and stands. He grumbles the entire time about how ridiculous it is, but his hands settle on your hips, steady and warm. When you spin beneath his arm, he doesn't let you drift far.
You are laughing, bright and unguarded, and he is looking at you like you are the best thing he has ever stumbled into by accident.
The love isn't hidden. It’s in the way he kisses your knuckles absentmindedly while listening to Nami’s navigation plans. It’s in the way you steal his bandana and tie it around your wrist just to watch him pretend not to care. It’s in the way he says your name—not often, and never loudly—but with a softness he reserves for no one else in the world.
You still don’t say “forever.” But when the ship rocks and you both sway in perfect balance, or when the storms roll in and his hand automatically finds yours, it feels bigger than any word could capture. It feels like something that echoes across the sea. It is loud. It is wholesome. It is unbreakable.
As Zoro pulls you into his side, the warmth of his body shielding you from the night chill while the crew laughs around you, you realize something radiant: love doesn’t have to be quiet to last. Sometimes, it gets to be joyful, too.
A year passes without either of you noticing the exact moment the seasons bled into one another. Somewhere between the jagged cliffs of unfamiliar islands, the bite of winter gales, and the adrenaline of hard-won victories, loving him stopped feeling like a new discovery. It became something woven into your marrow, as essential and quiet as the act of breathing.
And perhaps that is why you notice the shift so quickly.
It begins with the rhythm of the ship. Zoro starts training longer. At first, it’s subtle—an extra hour carved out before the sun breaks the horizon, a few more sets of weights after the rest of the crew has retired for the night. You tease him about turning into a machine, but the joke feels thin in the air. He only smirks, his eye fixed on some point far beyond the railing. "Can't fall behind," he says. He doesn't say behind whom, but you see the distant calculation in his gaze, a constant, silent measuring of his soul against a ghost.
You start finding him in the crow's nest at two in the morning. The moonlight catches the silver flash of his blades—drawn, sharp, and moving with a brutal force that feels less like practice and more like an exorcism. When you climb up to sit near him, the air is thick with the heat of his exertion.
"You'll snap something if you keep that up," you say, trying to keep your voice light. He doesn't stop. The steel hums through the air. "I'm fine," he grunts. You nod and pretend to believe him, but the words feel like a shield he’s holding up between you.
The change seeps into the aftermath of battles. He used to let you bandage him immediately, grumbling about the sting but leaning into your touch. Now, he lingers on the deck, a solitary figure staring at the horizon while the blood dries in dark copper streaks against his skin. When you finally approach with the bowl of water, he takes the cloth from your hand before you can reach him.
"I've got it."
Your fingers hover in the empty space for a heartbeat too long before you pull them back. "Okay," you whisper. You sit beside him anyway, watching as he cleans his own wounds with detached, efficient movements. You miss the way he used to watch your face while you worked. You miss the quiet bridge that used to exist in that silence.
The crew doesn't see it yet. Luffy is still a whirlwind of hunger and laughter; Nami still counts her berries with a sharp eye; the Sunny still cuts through the waves like a dream. But you have begun to count the things that are missing. You count the nights he doesn't come to bed. You count the conversations that die after three words. You count the growing inches of cold air between your backs when you finally do lie down together.
"I'm fine," he says.
"I know," you reply.
It has become a script you both know by heart.
One evening, under a sky heavy with the scent of an approaching storm, you find him training with a desperation that makes your chest ache. He stumbles—just once—and the sight of it feels like a crack forming in your own ribs.
"Zoro," you call out. He straightens instantly, his jaw tight. "Go inside. It's going to rain."
You step closer, the wind whipping your hair across your face. "You've been at this for six hours."
"I'm fine."
The words hit you like a physical weight. You don't tell him that you’ve started waking up in the middle of the night, reaching for a warmth that isn't there. You don't tell him that when he stares at the horizon, you feel like he’s already halfway over the edge. He still loves you—you can see it in the way he instinctively moves to shield you from a stray spark or a sudden gust—but he is chasing a version of strength that seems to require him to harden into stone.
You try to reach him one night when the ship is finally still. You turn toward him in the dark and whisper, "Talk to me." The silence stretches so long you think he’s fallen asleep, until he finally mutters, "Nothing to talk about." Your throat tightens, and you roll back onto your side. There is just enough space between you now for the cold to settle in.
The routines remain, but the warmth has shifted. His knee no longer brushes yours under the table. His fingers graze your back as he passes, but they don't linger. You tell yourself it’s okay; you can't ask a man chasing the title of the world's greatest to choose softness. Across the deck, Zoro tells himself the same lie. He convinces himself that if he just gets stronger, he can protect you from everything—even fate itself. He thinks that by stepping back, he is lifting the weight of his ambition off your shoulders.
But the crew is starting to notice. Nami's laughter doesn't quite reach her eyes when she looks at you. Sanji stops mid-insult when he realizes Zoro’s gaze no longer tracks your every move across the deck. Even Luffy asks bluntly if you're fighting. When you both say "no" at the exact same time, the lie hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating.
One night, Brook begins to play. It isn't a celebratory song, but a slow, haunting melody that hums like an old memory. It sounds like the lullabies of a home long gone. It sounds like the night you realized that love can be a fragile, fleeting thing.
The fear pours into you all at once—a cold, drowning realization. You look at Zoro’s exhausted shoulders and the distance in his eyes, and you feel like you’re already grieving him. You feel like you're losing him before he's even gone.
Zoro notices. He always notices. He sees your spine go rigid, sees the way your eyes go distant and glassy. He doesn't know how to ask what's wrong without admitting that he’s scared, too. So he simply walks over and sits. He sits so close that your shoulders press together, a solid, grounding heat.
Your hand shifts on the deck, and after a long, agonizing second, his fingers slide over yours. He doesn't just hold your hand; he grips it with a sudden, fierce intensity. It isn't distracted. It is desperate.
"I'm not going anywhere," he says, his voice low and jagged.
It isn't a promise you entirely believe, and it isn't a question you can answer. "I know," you whisper, but the words break in the middle.
The music fades, leaving only the sound of the hull creaking against the dark water. You stay there, hands locked tight, neither of you brave enough to say the real fear out loud, but both of you feeling it pulse like a second heartbeat between your palms. The rope is pulled tight between two ships drifting in different currents, and all you can do is hold on.
It doesn’t happen all at once. You don’t wake up one morning and decide to cling; it is a slower, more insidious erosion of your peace. It begins with the nights you stay awake. At first, you tell yourself it’s accidental, that the caffeine from dinner hasn't worn off, or that the rhythm of the waves is too mesmerizing to leave. You sit on the deck long after midnight, your back against the mast, watching the horizon for a shape you know by heart. One by one, the others drift below. The lantern light dims until the world is only ink and starlight.
You wait.
When Zoro finally returns from his relentless training, his footsteps are heavy. He pauses when he sees you, a dark silhouette against the wood. "You should be asleep," he says, his voice like gravel. You shrug, pull your shawl tighter, and murmur that you aren't tired. He doesn’t argue, but he doesn't sit with you either. He disappears below after a brief, phantom touch to your shoulder—fingers there and gone before you can even lean into the heat of them.
So the next night, you wait again.
After the battles, the fear becomes a living thing. You don’t rush him with tears or scold him for his recklessness; you simply look. You memorize his face with the intensity of someone trying to capture lightning in a jar. You trace the line of his jaw, the scar over his eye, the steady rise of a chest that is still, mercifully, breathing. You do this because once, a long time ago, you didn't look long enough.
In a village far from this endless sea, there had been an older brother who stood in doorways just like Zoro—solid, protective, and teasing. He had promised to always come back from the fishing trips. But when the pirates came, he pushed you into a cellar and told you to stay quiet. You remember the smell of smoke and iron, the sound of something heavy hitting the floorboards above your head. When you finally climbed out, the house was a skeleton of ash, and he was still. You hadn't looked at his face long enough because you were too afraid to see the end of your world.
Now, that fear lives in you like a splinter. You believe that if you don't memorize them, they will disappear. If you don't stay awake, they won't come back.
Zoro notices the way you cling, but he misunderstands the language of your grief. He sees the way your eyes follow his every move after a fight, the way your voice trembles when you ask if he's hurt. He tells himself you’re scared because he isn’t strong enough yet. He begins to see love as a distraction—a crack in his armor that might lead to your undoing. He convinces himself that distance is discipline, and discipline is what will keep you alive.
One night, after a skirmish that leaves a jagged cut along his ribs, your restraint finally snaps. "Stop pushing yourself like this," you whisper, your hands shaking as you kneel before him.
"It’s my job," he says, his jaw tight.
"You're not invincible."
"I don't need to be."
The words feel like a wall slamming down between you. You ask him why he acts like he has to be a god instead of a man, but he only offers the same hollow command: "I'm fine."
The rope between you is fraying in opposite directions. You are holding on tighter, terrified of the stillness; he is loosening his grip, terrified that loving you openly will make him hesitate at the moment you need him most to be sharp. That night, you lie inches apart, both holding on, just not to each other.
The tension finally boils over in the training room on a night that is hauntingly calm. The lantern light throws sharp, lonely shadows across his shoulders as he swings his swords with a ruthless, joyless precision.
"You said you'd rest," you say from the doorway. He doesn't stop. You step closer, desperate to reach the man beneath the steel. "Zoro, you're running from me."
He stops then, his eye snapping to yours, sharp and defensive. The air becomes brittle. When you admit you're scared, he flinches, but the distance remains. You tell him that you’re supposed to face the world together, but he only mutters that you deserve better than a life spent waiting for a man who might not come home.
"So your solution is to make me feel like you've already left?" you ask, the question hanging in the air like a death knell. He doesn't answer, and that silence is the sharpest blade he has ever used against you. You realize then that he is already halfway out the door, trying to save you from the pain of a future loss by giving you the pain of a present one.
You walk away, nearly running into Nami and Sanji in the hallway. They look at you with eyes full of a pity you can't stand. You force a smile and say you're sorry for being loud, but the truth is you weren't loud at all. You were the sound of something vital breaking quietly.
That night, you don't come to bed. You sit against the railing, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the dark, indifferent water. You don't cry; it would be easier if you were angry, but you are only hollow.
Below deck, Zoro sits on the edge of the empty bed. He waits for your footsteps, but he doesn't go to find you. He thinks he’s being selfless by letting you go. He thinks he’s being strong by staying in the dark.
The crew feels the shift like a drop in pressure before a hurricane. At dinner the next day, the space between your knees is a canyon. When you stand, he doesn't look up. When he trains, you don't follow. It is an awkward, restrained normalcy that tastes like ash.
Yet, when you pass each other in the narrow hallways, his fingers twitch with the ghost of a desire to reach out. When the clang of his swords echoes from above, your body still flinches in instinctive awareness. Love is still there, heavy and alive, but it no longer feels like a sanctuary. It feels like a bruise against your ribs—a constant, pulsing reminder of what happens when two people are too afraid to reach for each other at the same time.
That night, the wooden floorboards of the hallway felt colder beneath your feet than usual. You hesitated at the heavy oak door, your hand hovering over the latch, pulse thrumming in your fingertips. Through the crack, you could see him. He was already lying down, his single eye fixed on the ceiling as if he were trying to find a map in the shadows of the rafters.
You considered turning away. You considered finding a quiet corner of the library or the deck to curl into, but instead, you stepped inside.
The room was thick with the scent of sea salt and the metallic tang of his swords. You lay down on the mattress, but the space you left between your bodies was a canyon. Neither of you spoke. Neither of you reached. The silence wasn’t empty; it was a pressurized chamber filled with every fear and every unspoken "I need you" that you were both too proud—or too terrified—to say. In the dark, just inches apart, you both realized something unbearable: you had never felt farther from each other than you did while sharing the same bed.
The days that followed were a blur of simulated normalcy. You tried to swallow the fear of losing him, the phantom scent of smoke from your childhood, and the memory of a brother whose face you didn't look at long enough before he was gone. But your mind betrayed you. It replayed the fire, the silence of the cellar, and the weight of your own grief. One night, the dam finally broke. You didn't shake, and you didn't make a sound, but you lay there beside him while invisible waves of grief spilled out, soaking your pillow.
Before dawn, you slipped away. You didn't touch him. You didn't linger. You left before the sun could witness the redness of your eyes. When Zoro woke minutes later, he reached back automatically—only to find empty space. His hand brushed the pillow where your head had been. It was cold. It was damp.
The realization hit him harder than any blade: you had been breaking right next to him, and he hadn’t even noticed.
Above deck, you threw yourself into a frenzy of work. You scrubbed wood that was already clean, your hands moving with a desperate, frantic precision. When Zoro finally appeared, you greeted him with a smile that was ready far too quickly.
"Morning," you said lightly.
He studied you, the silence stretching. He wanted to ask why you had cried, why you hadn't woken him, why you were drifting away. Instead, he only nodded. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep. I’m fine."
It was your turn to say the words. And the worst part was that you sounded exactly like him—hollow and distant.
Gradually, you stopped waiting. You stopped listening for the hatch to open after his late-night training. You stopped seeking him out after battles. When he returned with a fresh cut along his shoulder, you didn't reach for the bowl and cloth; you stayed across the deck, speaking quietly with Nami. The absence of your touch was louder than any argument they had ever had.
You were becoming smaller, folding yourself inward to minimize the pain of the inevitable break. "You're shrinking," Nami told you one night, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "You used to fill a room. Now it's like you're trying not to."
Across the deck, Zoro watched you. He saw you laugh with Usopp, but he noticed you didn't look for him afterward. He felt the space where your presence used to be—the hair ties forgotten on the map table, the ribbons near the training post. Now, everything was sterile. Your side of the bed looked like a guest room. He felt you letting go, and for the first time, the world’s greatest swordsman knew the terror of being the one left standing still.
The breaking point arrived on a day of fire and steel. A pirate crew twice your size swarmed the Sunny. In the chaos, you moved with a reckless, sharp carelessness that chilled Zoro to the bone. You stepped in front of a gun aimed at Usopp. The bullet grazed your ribs, but you only smiled. You didn't dodge the next blade; you just waited.
Zoro’s swords intercepted the blow inches from your skull, the clash shaking the deck.
"What the hell are you doing?!" he roared, his voice a raw, primal sound that cut through the battle.
After the dust settled, he grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around in front of the entire crew. "You don't just stand there! You almost got yourself killed!"
"So?" you fired back, your voice cracking the heavy silence.
"So?" he repeated, his grip tightening.
"You've been treating me like a liability for months!" you shouted, the fury finally erupting. "Like loving me is a weakness. If I’m such a weakness, what difference does it make if I get hurt? You already act like losing me is inevitable!"
Zoro’s breath faltered. The crew stood frozen—Luffy's usual grin replaced by a deep, aching sadness.
"You think I didn't notice?" you whispered, tears finally blurring your vision. "You stopped looking at me like I was someone to love and started looking at me like something you’d have to survive. And I got tired, Zoro. I got tired of fighting for someone who already decided I’m too dangerous to keep."
Zoro’s hands trembled. "I was trying to protect you," he said, but the words sounded small against the wind.
"From what? From loving you?" You wiped your face roughly, your voice turning hollow. "I don’t care if I’m a weakness anymore. At least then I meant something."
You turned to walk away. Zoro grabbed your wrist, his grip desperate, his voice nearly a growl. "You mean everything."
You didn't look back. "Then stop acting like I'm already gone."
You pulled free, and this time, he let you go. The whole crew watched as you walked away—the girl who used to fill every corner of the ship and the swordsman who never yelled, both shattered in the middle of a sunlit deck.
That night, the ship was too quiet. Even the waves, usually a comforting rhythm against the hull of the Thousand Sunny, sounded distant and muffled. You sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, tracing the intricate wood grain of the floor with your eyes as if the patterns might offer an answer to a question you were afraid to ask out loud.
Stay. Leave.
The words felt heavier than they should have, like stones pulling at the corners of your heart. You stood slowly, movements heavy with a strange, numb purpose, and reached for your bag. You didn't sob. You didn't break. Instead, you began to fold your clothes—carefully, methodically, with the kind of intense focus people use when they are trying very hard not to feel anything at all. One shirt. Two. Then, your fingers brushed the ribbon you had stopped wearing weeks ago. You hesitated over the silk, the memory of a lighter time snagging on your heart like a thorn.
If you left, the ship would keep moving. It had to. Luffy would chase the horizon with the same wide-eyed grin, and Nami would count the gold and the supplies twice over just to avoid looking at the empty space you left behind. Sanji would cook far too much food for weeks, habit driving his hands until the silence of the galley became too loud to ignore. Chopper would cry openly, his small heart unable to contain the grief.
And Zoro…
You stopped folding. Zoro would survive. He was a man built of iron and scar tissue; he always survived. That was the problem. He had become so good at surviving that he had forgotten how to live within the warmth of another person.
You zipped the bag halfway, the sound harsh in the stillness. “If I stay,” you whispered to the empty room, “I have to try again.” And trying meant risking a total fracture. It meant loving someone who was so terrified of losing you that he had chosen to push you away first.
You lifted the bag, but the door creaked.
You froze. Zoro stood in the doorway, his chest heaving as if he had run across the entire ocean to get there. His eyes dropped immediately to the bag in your hand, and for the first time, you saw something inside him truly shatter.
“…You’re leaving,” he said. It wasn’t a question; it was an admission of defeat.
You didn't answer. Silence was the only honest thing left between you. He stepped into the room slowly, his movements cautious, like a man approaching a wounded animal.
“I was wrong,” he said. The words sounded foreign, as if his throat wasn't built to house them. You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the handle of your bag. “About what?”
“About all of it.” He ran a hand through his hair, searching for words he had spent his whole life burying. “I thought if I didn’t let myself need you too much… it wouldn’t destroy me if something happened. I’ve lost people before. And every time, I told myself it was because I wasn't strong enough. So I convinced myself that loving you softer would make me stronger.” He let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “It just made me a coward.”
Your heart stutters, the numb wall you’d built around it beginning to crack.
“I saw you take that hit today,” he continued, his voice roughening with an emotion he couldn't name. “And for a second, I thought—this is it. This is the moment I was preparing for. And then I realized I’d already been losing you. Piece by piece. Because I was scared. I don’t want to survive you. I want you here. Even if it ruins me.”
The room felt suddenly far too small. He reached for your hand, and though every instinct told you to protect yourself, you didn't pull away.
“I’ll try,” he said, and this time, his voice cracked fully. “I don’t know how to do this right. But I’ll try. I’ll fight my own head if I have to. Just—” His throat tightened, his pride falling away like old armor. “Don’t go.”
It wasn't a command. It was a plea. Zoro never begged, yet here he was, terrified not of death or the sea, but of you walking out that door. You didn't smile, and you didn't rush into his arms. You simply nodded once.
“…Okay.”
Relief crashed over him so violently he almost swayed. You set the bag down, and he exhaled a breath he seemed to have been holding for months. But when he reached for you again, you stepped back gently.
“I’ll stay,” you said softly, your voice calm and final. “But not in here.”
His face fell, but he nodded. He understood. This was the consequence of the distance he had built—the realization that things wouldn't just snap back to how they were. You picked up a pillow and a blanket, explaining that you needed space. If you were going to try, you couldn't do it in a room that felt like the place where you had started to disappear.
As you walked past him toward the spare room, he didn't stop you. He stood alone in the doorway of a room that still smelled like you, yet felt emptier than it ever had. For the first time, he understood: you chose to stay, but he still had to earn you back.
He did try. God, he tried. He began coming to bed earlier, even if the bed remained empty. He would knock on the spare room door, awkwardly asking if you’d eaten. He sat beside you at breakfast, his gaze lingering on you as if he were relearning your features. He reached for your hand in small, careful ways, terrified that if he gripped too hard, you would vanish like mist.
The crew noticed. Nami saw him bringing you tea; Sanji noticed the way Zoro actually told you where he was going. But inside you, a quiet tiredness had taken root. You watched him try, and your chest ached—not because of what he was doing now, but because of what he hadn't done when you needed it most. You remembered the nights you waited up, the way you had shrunk yourself down until you were almost invisible. Loving him had always felt like holding a blade by the edge—careful, careful, careful—hoping it wouldn't slip.
Now, when he held your hand on deck, your fingers didn't curl back. He might have noticed, or perhaps he just pretended not to. Luffy would grin and declare that things were better, and you would smile for him. You were very good at smiling. But alone in the spare room, you would press your palm to your chest, checking for a heartbeat that didn't seem to reach as far as it used to.
It was late when Nico Robin found you on the upper deck. She didn't announce herself; she simply settled beside you, watching the moonlight dance on the water.
“You’re very good at pretending,” she said softly.
“He’s trying,” you murmured.
“Yes,” Robin agreed. “But sometimes people begin healing at different times. One starts when the other is already tired.” She looked at you with eyes that saw far too much. “You became smaller to survive loving him. I have done that before. It feels safer, but love should not require you to disappear.”
The words hit you with the force of a physical blow. You asked her what happened if you were already gone.
“Then the question isn’t whether he’s trying,” she said. “It’s whether you still want to stay. If you choose to stay, let it be because you are whole. Not because you are afraid to leave.”
When she walked away and Zoro appeared at the top of the steps, asking if you were okay, you didn't shrink.
“…I’m thinking,” you said honestly.
That answer scared him more than anything else. Because you did love him. You loved him when he was stubborn, when he was lost, and when he said your name softer than anyone else ever had. But love didn't cancel out the pain; it just made it more patient.
One night, you returned to the shared room—just to test the air. You lay on your side, staring into the dark. He was beside you, careful and quiet. After a long while, his hand shifted across the mattress, his fingers brushing yours before curling tentatively around your hand. It was the old signal—the silent "I'm here" that used to mean everything.
He gave your hand a small, hopeful squeeze.
Your heart stutters. You felt the warmth of his palm, the familiar roughness of his callouses. For a split second, your fingers twitched with the instinct to squeeze back. But the fear rose up—sharp, cold, and protective. If you squeezed back, you were stepping into hope, and hope was what had shattered you before.
So you didn't. Your hand stayed still in his—not pulling away, but not returning the gesture either.
The silence that followed was unbearable. He waited, his grip eventually loosening, though he didn't let go entirely. You felt his breathing change, his body going rigid with the realization of the distance that still remained. He turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling, while you kept facing the wall.
You loved him. You always would. But loving him felt like standing on a shoreline, watching the tide inch closer to your feet, and wondering if this was finally the wave that would pull everything out to sea.The next morning, the sunlight that filtered through the galley windows felt different—sharper, more honest. You sat at the table and made a silent vow: if you were going to stay, you refused to remain a shadow. You refused to be a ghost haunting the corners of a ship that was meant for adventure.
You started small. When Usopp launched into a story that was clearly ninety percent fabrication, you didn't just offer a polite smile. You laughed. It was a real, chest-deep laugh that made your shoulders shake and your head tip back. The sound was a bit rusty, like a gate that hadn't been opened in years, but it was vibrant. Usopp froze mid-sentence, looking at you as if you’d just performed a miracle, before grinning like he’d won a grand prize.
As the day progressed, you reclaim the space you had surrendered. You sat beside Nami, nudging her shoulder and teasing her about the exorbitant interest she’d charged at the last port. You helped Sanji in the kitchen, darting away with stolen ingredients before he could playfully scold you. You debated history with Robin and listened to Chopper’s medical theories with genuine curiosity.
You were louder. You stretched out on the grass deck in the afternoon sun instead of tucking yourself away. You hummed while you folded laundry. The ship felt brighter, the air finally losing that heavy, pressurized stillness that had plagued it for weeks.
And Zoro watched.
He watched from a distance, leaning against the mast or sitting by the weights. You didn’t avoid him, but you no longer orbited him. You didn't check for his approval before you spoke; you didn't glance his way to see if he was watching when Luffy threw an arm around your neck. You were living, but for the first time, your life felt like it belonged to you, not to the space between the two of you.
That was what hurt him the most. Before, even in the worst of the silence, there had been a thread—a constant, invisible check-in. Now, you were shining all on your own, and he realized with a jolt of terror that you didn't need his light to be visible.
One evening, as the crew sat in a circle on deck sharing stories and sake, he approached you after the others had begun to drift away.
“You seem... better,” he said. There was no bite in his voice, only a fragile kind of hope.
You gave him a small, steady nod. “I’m trying to be.”
“With them,” he muttered, the words escaping before he could catch them.
You met his eye, your gaze clear and calm. “With myself,” you corrected gently.
There was no anger in your voice, but the truth of it made him flinch. He had wanted you whole again, but he hadn't realized that being whole might mean you no longer needed to lean on him. As you brushed past him to go below deck, your shoulder bumped his lightly. It was accidental and brief. It didn't linger. And for the first time, Zoro felt what you had felt for months: close enough to touch, but not held.
You were learning a difficult, quiet truth: before you could love him again, you had to be a person first. Not his anchor, not his comfort, and certainly not the girl who shrank herself to accommodate his fear.
It was terrifying. Loving him had meant opening every door and window of your soul. It meant trusting that he would be there to catch you if the world tilted. You had done that once, and when he stepped back—even if he did it to "protect" you—the fall had shattered something foundational. You couldn't do that again. Not without knowing you would still exist if the floor dropped out a second time.
A few nights later, he found you sitting on the deck, watching the horizon as if it belonged to you. He sat down nearby, though he was careful not to touch you.
“You feel different,” he said quietly.
“I am.”
He waited for you to explain, but you didn't fill the silence for him anymore. You let the quiet sit between you, heavy and honest.
“I’m trying,” he said finally. “I don’t want you to think I’m not.”
“I know,” you replied.
“But I can’t love you the way I did before,” you continued softly, finally turning to look at him. “I loved you like you were my air. Like if you pulled away, I’d stop breathing. That wasn't healthy for either of us.”
He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. “So what does that mean?”
“It means I have to learn who I am without being tied to you first. I’m choosing to stay—not because I can't survive without you, but because I want to.”
That landed with a weight that made his breath hitch. He studied your face, realizing that this version of you was stronger, calmer, and no longer clinging. You told him that perhaps one day you would open up that way again, but it wouldn't be out of fear. It would be because you were safe and whole.
But as the days turned into a week, you realized that the walls of the ship were still pressing in on you. The history was too thick here; the memories of the "shrinking" version of yourself were etched into the very wood of the Thousand Sunny. You didn't pack in secret this time. The sound of the zipper was loud and intentional in the afternoon light.
The crew gathered as you folded your clothes. Chopper was the first to break, his voice wobbling as he asked if you were leaving forever. You knelt and promised him you’d be back, that you just needed time to figure out who you were when you weren't hurting.
Nami and Sanji looked ready to argue, to insist that the ship was your home, but they saw the resolve in your eyes and stayed silent. Robin simply watched with a knowing, peaceful expression. You weren't running away; you were choosing yourself.
Zoro stood by the mast, his arms crossed, holding himself together. He had known this was coming. He knew it the moment you stopped looking torn and started looking certain.
You slung the bag over your shoulder and walked toward him last. The space between you felt real—unfiltered by the old desperation.
“Is there anything I can say?” he asked. It wasn't a demand; it was a plea for a map he didn't have.
You shook your head gently. “If I stay because you asked me to, I’ll just disappear again.”
“How long?” he managed to ask, his throat tight.
“I don't know.”
You stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. “I’m not leaving because I stopped loving you. I’m leaving because I want to come back whole.”
“I was too late,” he said, the realization settling over him like a shroud.
“You were learning,” you answered. “But I was already tired.”
He didn't try to fix it. He didn't try to stop you. He simply stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. It wasn't the desperate grip of a man trying to trap you; it was firm and grounded, a way of memorizing your weight before you were gone. You pressed your face into his chest for one final heartbeat, feeling the steady thud of a heart that finally understood what it was losing.
You stepped back and smiled at the crew, repeating your promise to return. Luffy grinned, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Yeah, you will. You’re one of us.”
You turned toward the dock and walked away. Zoro didn't follow. He didn't beg. He stood on the deck and watched you go, feeling something he had never felt in all his battles with death: total helplessness. He finally understood that the only way to truly keep you... was to let you go.
Roronoa Zoro x Reader, ex-boyfriend!Trafalgar D. Law x reader
Summary: After leaving the Heart Pirates to join the Straw Hats, can you move on from Law?
warning: 4.5 words. spoilers for wano arc. some angst.
notes: For story purposes, reader joined the Straw Hats right at the two year skip - so a little after they all get back together. Also, flashbacks are in italic.
The morning sea breeze was cold and unwelcoming, but the view was as it always was - beautiful. On the deck, your feet dragged across the wood to the far left railing of the Sunny. Chopper’s favorite mug in hand, he liked when you used it, warm with coffee. The cook of the ship usually woke up before everyone to put on a pot of coffee and to prepare breakfast, he had been up and smiling when you walked into the kitchen.
“Morning, beautiful - coffee as per usual.”
“Thank you, Sanji. I couldn’t get much sleep last night.”
“It is the arm? I thought Chopper said it was almost fully healed?”
Touching the sling on your left arm, you said no. “I kept having this nightmare over and over.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Sanji readied your coffee and asked what the dream was about. You moved next to him at the stove, describing the dream. “I was just falling from the sky. Just falling, never landing. I wasn’t even panicking in the dream, I just….kept falling. Never landing - strange, huh?”
Sanji poured the correct amount of creamer into your drink and handed the mug over. “Kinda sounds peaceful.”
Thanking him, you left Sanji to his prepping to enjoy the morning.
The sea was calm, you gazed up at the sky and took a careful sip of coffee. The way Sanji roasted the coffee was diving, even Zoro couldn’t muster up a single negative thing to say about it. Speaking of, your eyes moved to the crow's nest. If Zoro wasn’t sleeping, he could be found working out in the crow’s nest. Smiling, you turned back to the ocean and for a split second, you thought of another pirate. A captain that had broken your heart into a million pieces - a man whose ship you had left because he couldn’t or wouldn’t love you the way you deserved.
“Law….”
His name came out in a whisper, but there was nothing to hide. Everyone on the ship knew of your affair with your former captain; the two of you had never hid your relationship to the public. There had been rumors of a secret marriage but that wasn’t true - Law was not the marrying kind and to be frank, neither were you. The pirate life was not a normal life and you had been content with being at his side. Until he became too protective - in the most well meaning way. He had never been controlling, but above all, he had been your captain. There were ways to keep you out of harm's way, even if it meant not letting you reach your true potential.
Even without a devil fruit, you had been a strong arm in his crew. Smart and quick witted, you had been a hell of a shot when it came to handing a pistol. You had become a sniper for the Heart Pirates and Law used your skill to get you far away from the fight.
Keeping you on roofs, on top of buildings, as a look out. Yes, this had been useful and some of the guys on the crew were thankful you had their backs - even from afar. Everyone has their role on a crew but you hate the feeling of being benched. You knew, deep down, Law’s intentions were good and it was because he loved you but sometimes you could love someone too much.
“I just want to keep my crew safe, you safe."
“So why are we even pirates, then, Law? Let’s quit this life, you and I. Let’s run away from whatever revenge you are seeking on this world. Find a place far away and settle down. Please, Law ....”
His face said it all, as the two of you stood on the wooden dock of a small island. The Strawhats had been docked there too, a funny coincidence but six months later, as you gazed upon the ocean on the Sunny - it felt like fate.
That night you had wandered into the village, towards the nearest tavern. Bumping into the Straw Hats that night, as they filled the bar with light and joy, laughter and light bickering. All this reminded you of your crew, the family you had loved for so many years. It was Luffy that beckoned you over to their table, grinning like a fool. He had changed so much in two years - you remember the state he was in after Ace died, he looked so much happier now that he was with his crew again.
He formally introduced his crew and they thanked you for helping him. It was true, you had been there when Law saved Luffy and the crew took him to Amazon Lily. The crew had stayed there for a while and you had gotten to know Luffy more.
Taking a seat next to Roronoa Zoro, you had humbly reminded Luffy that it was Law that saved him. “My captain is due all the credit, I just follow orders.”
“Wait -aren’t you two an item?”
Nami smiled across the table and you laughed. “I suppose…not really sure….”
Your words drifted off as Zoro slid a mug of ale in your direction; thanking him, you attempted to dodge a follow up question from the beautiful navigator but she was persistent. “Everyone says you two are married.”
“Just a rumor.” Not knowing how you ended up in the hot seat or why you felt somewhat relaxed around the group, you shrugged. “Things are a bit rocky between us - not that I want things to be aired out…”
“Mum’s the word,” Sanji smiled softly.
Gazing around the table, each Straw Hat’s attention was on you; without a reason, this warm feeling surrounded your body. Was it the crew? Did they have this secret power they could hold over people? You couldn’t say but you felt comfortable enough to indulge in the issues your captain and you had. Never speaking negatively of Law, you explained it all.
Sanji shook his head, lit up his second cigarette since you started talking. “Sounds like the man’s just trying to protect you. He's going about it the wrong way though…”
Zoro scoffed next to you. “Sounds like he can’t handle a strong woman - never let anyone hold you back.”
The entire table agreed, but Luffy sat quietly for a moment until he grinned. “I have a great idea! You should join our crew!”
There was no way - you stared at the captain and laughed. “Luffy, I’ve been with the Heart Pirates for a long time….”
“So,” he shrugged with a smile. “You always looked so miserable.”
Nami chastised the man but he was right. At that point, when Law had decided to stay a bit on Amazon Lily - things had gotten bad between the two of you. A distance had grown and that’s why you spent so much time with Luffy. Watching him train and admiring his eagerness to get back to his crew. When the time came for the Heart Pirates to leave, you had felt a sadness saying goodbye to Luffy.
“It would be kinda cool, you do have a badass reputation. I’ve heard you’re one of the best shots on Law’s crew. ” Franky chimed in and you smiled. The rest of the group started chatting about how they could always use another member.
Their enthusiasm created butterflies in your stomach and you glanced over to Luffy, the smile on his face ever so inviting.
----
A voice called from the door of the kitchen - it was Sanji, a serving tray in hand. Giving the ocean one last glance, you left the railing and went over to the cook.
“Can you take this up to Mosshead. I would rather not ruin my morning by seeing his ugly face.”
You laughed and placed your coffee mug onto the tray - which was filled with two plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, a few orange slices, another cup of coffee and toast.
“Are you able to carry it with one hand?”
Slipping your right hand under the tray, you balanced it expertly. Sanji seemed satisfied and you thanked him for the meal. “You are a true gift to this ship and humanity.”
Sanji laughed, rolling his eyes. “Just go give that idiot his breakfast. I don’t want him complaining about how I starve him.”
“Yeah, well, that’s inevitable.”
The two of you shared a laugh before Sanji disappeared back into the kitchen. Holding the tray, you started toward the ladder that led to the crow’s nest but Zoro was already standing at the bottom of it. He lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead and smiled when he saw you with breakfast.
“I was just about to come up to deliver breakfast.”
“That damn cook yelled at me through the intercom, told me to come down so you wouldn’t have to carry the tray up.”
You grinned and asked if he wanted to eat on the grass, he said yes and took the tray from you but not before you retrieved your coffee. He followed you to the grass and settled beside you - telling you to take the plate with the most food.
“You need to bulk up a little, on Wano, I could tell you were getting tired during the fights.”
“Well, shit, I was getting slammed left and right,” you pretended to be annoyed but then you took the plate with the most food and Zoro grinned. He yawned and took a sip of coffee, grunting angrily.
“Can’t stay a bad thing about the coffee, huh?”
Zoro’s face dropped. “It really pisses me off.”
You stared at him and he laughed, shrugging and stating Sanji had to be good at at least one thing. Choosing to ignore him, you started in on the breakfast and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. Your eyes stole a glance of the man next to you and for a brief moment, you tried to imagine Law in his place.
You had left the Heart Pirates - a crushing moment in your life, they had been your family for so long. Law was understanding and mature about the whole situation, and you weren’t surprised. He had always been a level headed person but for once in his life, you had wanted him to not be. You wanted him to beg you to stay, to promise that he’d change and let you flourish. All you wanted was to be the best version of yourself, his crew, for him but he had let you go. He let you go and you felt that because it was with the Straw Hats, with Luffy, it was easier for him to let you go.
“You’ll fit in well with them - you’ll be good.”
“I’ll miss the crew…you…”
Law smiled softly, lifting his hand to your face - his thumb caressed your cheek before he whispered, “ Good luck.”
The transition from pirate crews had been surprisingly easy - Law had been correct, as always, you did fit right in. The crew, especially Nami and Robin, took to you right away. The three of you became close quickly, but the others were just as welcoming. Surprisingly, Zoro had been very open to you training with him. He didn’t mind you working out with him and even gave you tips, and before you know it - he was sparring with you daily. It had been hard work but you grew stronger as time went by.
Law lingered less and less in your mind, time with the Straw Hats had changed you for the better. Love had cost you your first crew but this time around, the love you had felt with Luffy and the others - it felt empowering. These people were something else and by the time Wano was in your line of sight - it felt like you had been part of the crew since the beginning.
Something else happened - something unexpected.
You fell in love again.
The rescue mission for Sanji on Whole Cake Island had been successful - hard but successful. It was difficult when the crew was split into two - some went off to Wano, while the rest, including yourself, went to get Sanji back.
When you landed in Wano - you were all eager to reunite with the rest of the crew. Then things got interesting - apparently the Heart Pirates had infiltrated the island a month prior to Zoro and the others' arrival. You hadn’t expected to see your old crew or captain. So imagine your surprise when you finally reunited with the other Straw Hats and encountered Law.
“I see them!”
Nami’s voice cracked, her eyes watery as she pointed up toward a grassy knoll. Your eyes trailed up the small hill, from the distance you spotted several figures. Unable to tell, you hurried along with the others. Luffy had gotten split up from Sanji, Nami, Brook, Chopper, and yourself upon your arrival in Wano. Now it seems, the whole crew was finally reuniting before the inevitable fight with Kaido.
Hiking up the knoll, your eyes zeroed in on Luffy. He was waving and smiling, you felt elated to see your captain. Then your eyes wandered to the man next to him - tall, broad shouldered, green hair. His eyes found yours and you ran to him - his arms opened up to engulf you. Zoro lifted you off the ground, squeezing you tight as you laughed. It felt like too long since you last saw the swordsman.
When it was decided that you’d be part of the group that would go to Sanji, Zoro had pulled you aside. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.
“I’ll see you in Wano, got it?”
Nodding, you placed a hand over his. “Don’t worry about us, we got this.”
Zoro grinned proudly, giving you a hard kiss before resting his hand around the base of your neck. He moved his forehead against yours and the two of you shared a smile. “I know you do.”
At that point in time, the two of you were established among the crew. It was what it was - no one asked questions and everyone seemed fine with it. Even Sanji, sans the jokes here and there, knew that if Zoro was openly acknowledging your relationship -it wasn’t something to dismiss. The pair of you weren’t overzealous with PDA or affection, that was reserved for private moments and long needed reunions. Zoro had believed in you - saw the potential and had never even thought of keeping you from a fight. He downright encouraged it, he wanted you strong.
“Luffy’s going to be King of the Pirates, his whole crew needs to be strong. You need to be strong, get it?”
You did get it - and over time, as you pushed and trained, Zoro and you fell in love. It was organic and unexpected, a love fueled by the loyalty of being a part of the Straw Hats crew. Zoro and you put your duties to Luffy first and that mutual respect had bonded your relationship.
“It’s good to see you,” Zoro murmured under his breath, letting you down as you placed both hands on his face. He grinned as you gave him a quick kiss, aware that the rest of the crew was around. Like you said, the two of you liked to keep things private but some things couldn’t be helped.
“I have to admit, this getup looks great on you,” you eyed Zoro’s yukata and his face went red. Laughing, you left his side to Luffy. Giving him a hug, you told him you were glad everyone was together again.
“Yeah, Law’s here too!”
In that moment, you finally noticed Law standing off to the side. He was wearing traditional Wano clothing and he looked nonchalant as you noticed him. The last time you had seen him was on Dressrosa and there hadn’t been much time to even talk. The two of you had a brief conversation to catch up but he hadn’t known about Zoro and you.
Leaving Luffy’s side, you looked to Zoro - he stood next to Sanji, eyes on Law. Not an ounce of jealousy in his eyes. You recognized the look on Zoro’s face; he was just observing, he knew you could handle any situation, he was just there in case you needed him.
Law straightened up when you started towards him - he smiled softly when you asked where the rest of the crew was.
“They’ll be here shortly. They’ll be happy to see you.”
“I wish we’d stop meeting under these circumstances but I guess that’s what happens when you form an alliance with the Straw Hats.”
“We are not in an alliance,” Law muttered but you just smiled.
“Yes we are - our crew is more than happy to have you guys tag along but Luffy’s got dibs on Kaido.”
The man in front of you stared blanky, but you could tell your words had gotten under his skin and you laughed. “I guess we have another battle ahead of us but I have faith in Luffy - he’s going to free this country.”
Law said nothing but he nodded toward where Zoro stood. “I didn’t know you two were together.”
“Yeah, it sort of just happened.”
“I didn’t know he was capable of anything but fighting.”
“That’s the thing, Law, you have to believe in people,” you smiled and said you wanted to get back to your crew. He nodded and watched as you walked back to Zoro, feeling a ping of something when the swordsmen placed a strong arm around your shoulder as you conversed with Sanji and him. He heard you laugh and when you left Zoro’s side, he had to look away when your hand softly touched Zoro’s.
…
Wano had proven to be the toughest fight the entire crew had ever faced - it seemed like a never ending battle. Death had gripped its nasty fingers on you several times but every time, you thought of Luffy. And when it was said that Luffy had been defeated, died - you could not believe it because deep down, you knew. Knew Luffy was going to defeat Kaido and become King of the Pirates. So you continued to fight and when he presented in that beautiful form of his - white hair, hysterical laugh, it fueled the fire inside you.
In the end, Luffy defeated Kaido.
When it was announced, the fighting ended and you collapsed on the ground. All you could do was cry tears of joy and relief. Robin found you first, helping you off the ground - your left arm felt broken. The two of you embraced and when Sanji arrived - reporting about Zoro and Luffy’s state, you rushed to them. The next couple of days were filled with rest and anxiously as you waited for both men to awake. You were sitting in one of the palace’s gardens - staring into a pond.
With your left arm in a sling, the rest of your body was finally feeling less sore.
“Jinbe said I’d find you here.”
It was Law, you didn’t have to turn to know. His footsteps approached you and he asked if he could sit down. Making room, you patted the stone bench. He sat down, dressed in his regular clothes now. His eyes went straight to your arm and he asked if you wanted him to take a look at it.
“No, Chopper did a good job at wrapping it up. It’s definitely fractured, I should be good in a couple of weeks.”
“Well, at least you’re alive.”
“The crew?”
Law sighed but smiled. “Everyone made it through. I just wanted to come and check up on you.”
You told him you were fine but just waiting for Luffy and Zoro to finally wake up. Law hummed and began to explain what had happened on top level with Kaido. You listened as he recounted the fight against Kaido. You listened as he gave all the details but he left one thing out.
At one point, before they all ended up on the roof - Law found himself searching for your face in the crowd of fighters. His eyes scanned the room and then he saw you - you were crossing the banquet hall, pistols in both hands. You dodged several attacks, never faltering. Out of pure instinct, he lifted his hand and almost used Room to switch places with you but a hand firm gripped his shoulders.
“Leave her alone, she’s got this.”
His hand fell to his side as Zoro stepped up next to him, Law turned his head slightly and eyed the man. His eyes were on you and the look of pride on Zoro’s face changed everything Law had thought. In that mere interaction, he realized he had never really loved you. Or he loved you in the wrong way.
“We need to head up, now’s your time to say anything you need to her.”
Zoro scoffed. “You just don’t get it, do you?”
Law grimaced at him but said nothing. Zoro laughed but he was not amused. Instead he gripped both of his swords and kept his eyes on you; watching the hard work you had put in pay off. Yeah, he could see you were getting tired but he also recognized the fire in your eyes. That’s what made Zoro proud.
“She’s not going to stop until she’s dead - she’s a goddam pirate. She’s a Straw Hat and you might not know what that means. But to her, to me, it means we fight until we’re dead and when that happens - we get up and keep fighting.”
Zoro gave one last look at you before turning his back on the fight. “We need to get up there with Luffy.”
“Have any clue what Luffy is now? That form ... .I have never seen anything like it.”
“No,” you said, adjusting your arm against your chest. “I’m sure it means something none of us will understand but for now, I just want them to wake up.”
“I better go.”
Law stood up and you did the same, facing him with a soft smile on your face. He selfishly took it in, knowing this would probably be the last time the two of you would ever have a moment alone. He didn’t know what was next but after what he saw on Onigashima - the Straw Hats were going to give the entire world a run for their money.
“I was right, you know.”
“About what?”
Law grinned, reaching for your uninjured hand and gave it a squeeze. “You fit right in with the Straw Hats - it all makes sense to me now.”
Before you could say something, Nami appeared at the edge of the garden - shouting for you that Luffy and Zoro had awakened. Law saw the excitement in your eyes and he told you to go. Squeezing his hand back, you thanked him for coming to check on you and made him promise not to leave the island without a goodbye. He agreed and watched you rush back into the palace. Law took in a cool breeze against his face and in that moment, he felt the sense of closure he needed.
Zoro’s chest was bandaged up, he was nourishing a bottle of sake when the doors to the room slid open. Nami ran in with a wide smile on her face as you followed behind. The first thing you did was check on Luffy but he was too busy eating an elephant's weight in food. Leaving him to eat, you turned to Zoro.
His body settled as you locked eyes with him and you rushed to his side - he laughed as you placed a gentle arm on his chest.
“Damage doesn’t seem too bad, from what Law said you really pushed yourself.”
Zoro grinned. “Impressed, are you?”
Taking the bottle of sake from his hand, you leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. “You never cease to impress him, Roronoa Zoro.”
Not caring that the rest of the crew made their way into the room or that Luffy was bouncing around eating all the food in the room, Zoro’s fell grew serious and he whispered that he was glad you just had a broken arm. He pushed fallen hair away from your face and sighed deeply.
“I love you.”
Neither of you had said those words to each other but now, after everything that happened, it felt right. His eyes bore into yours and you touched his cheek softly. “I love you too.”
…
“These eggs are so good,” you hummed, taking another sip of coffee. Zoro begrudgingly agreed and asked if you wanted to train after breakfast.
“You can work out your legs - when does the sling come off?”
“Chopper said I can start physical therapy soon - I told him you volunteered to help me.”
Zoro agreed, pushing his serving of eggs onto your plate. “Fuel up.”
Not arguing, you let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes for a second. Zoro asked if you were tired and you told him that you kept having a nightmare.
“Now that you mention it, I kept having this dream over and over the other night. Except it wasn’t a nightmare.”
“Oh really? What was it?”
Polishing off the rest of his coffee, Zoro wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He grinned proudly, “In my dream, I kept catching you from the sky.”
The fork in your hand fell onto the plate and you laughed. “I was falling in your dream?”
“Yeah,” he stretched with a yawn. “Over and over again. The same dream, you falling from the sky and me catching you. See, even in my dreams, I'm a badass.”
“No, you’re just an ass,” you teased and Zoro grinned, lifting the plate off your lap and pushing aside the tray. He effortlessly moved you onto his lap, your back against his chest. He leaned back onto his arms and you laid against him, the two of you watching the clouds above. His chest rose and fell underneath your back and it started to soothe you.
“Why don’t you get some sleep, we can train after.”
“You sure,” you whispered, eyelids fluttering shut.
You felt Zoro kiss the top of your head. “Yeah, I’m sure. Get some sleep.”
Not one to argue, your body fully relaxed against Zoro and you could feel the warmth from his body - the cool air of the ocean breeze countered, leaving you in the perfect condition for a nap. As you fell asleep, you whispered to Zoro that you loved him and he held you tighter - being careful about your arm. He whispered it back and sat still the entire time as you slept. This time, no nightmares, just heavenly sleep.
Pretty please could I request a scenario/imagine with Ace where the reader is from Drum Island and lost someone or something during Blackbeards raid and the reader swore vengeance vengeance on the guy.
So when she's tracking Blackbeard down, she keeps running into Ace and it grows into a friendly rivalry to see who's gonna get Blackbeard first and they compare notes and information
How this all ends on Banaro id leave up to you, I'm not pressed on a happy or angsty ending and I'd like to see your spin on this! I like your writing a lot.
Chasing Fire and Shadows
portgas d. ace x fem!reader
poll for part 2
a/n: the islands I name are random tho lmao loved writing this so much btw
Snow falls hard on Drum Island the night Blackbeard attacks.
You remember the fire, the screams, and the way the cold didn’t matter because rage kept you warm. Blackbeard’s crew swept through the town like wolves through a sheep pen, lighting homes, laughing through gunfire. No mercy. No reason.
Your brother had gone to help put out the flames. He never came back.
All they found was part of his coat. Burnt at the edge. Blood at the seam.
That night, in the silent wreckage of your village, you dug your hands into the snow and swore two things:
You would find Marshall D. Teach.
You would kill him yourself.
After all that.
“Vengeance won’t keep you alive.”
That’s what Dr. Kureha says the morning you tell her your plan.
You stand in the snow, fists clenched, scarf whipping in the wind “Then I’ll make sure strength does.”
Kureha narrows her eyes “Strength without control is just chaos. What are you gonna do? Run around with a kitchen knife screaming his name?”
“No,” you say “I’m going to train.”
And you do train, for months, you fight your own limits. Early mornings. Weighted runs in deep snow. Hand-to-hand combat with heavy gloves.
You work under the mountain monks for endurance, under ex-hunters for reflex, and under Wapol’s leftovers for grit.
One of the monks, old and blind, says something you never forget “Pain will make you sharper, girl. But only love will keep you human.”
You don’t know how to feel about that.
Six months into your training, you find something in the wreckage of a smuggler's den near the coast.
A Devil Fruit. Rotating, pale silver with jagged navy streaks, looking like a storm frozen mid-sky. You remember your breath catching, your hands shaking.
You don’t know its name. No one does.
But you eat it anyway.
It tastes like battery acid and regret.
Three days later, lightning shoots from your fingertips during a sparring match. You black out. Nearly burn down a hut. But you feel the power, deep and electric, coiled in your blood like a storm waiting for a trigger.
They start calling you the Thunderborn after that.
You learn to control it, piece by piece:
Charging your body to move faster than the eye.
Electrocuting your punches for impact.
Using static fields to sense motion behind you.
Eventually, you learn to “blink” short-range lightning jumps.
Now — Alabasta
You walk into the Nanohana bar in a sand-stained cloak, hair still carrying bits of static.
And there he is again.
Portgas D. Ace.
At the counter. Shirt open, freckles out, drinking like he owns the damn place.
He doesn’t see you at first, but you don’t say anything.
You just sit beside him and order something cheap.
Then he turns “Well, well, if it isn’t Drum Island’s sparkplug.”
You smirk “If you call me that again, I’ll fry your eyebrows off.”
Ace laughs “You’ve gotten funnier. And sparky. Did I hear lightning outside earlier?”
You sip your drink “Might’ve been me.”
“Figured. You light up when you’re mad.”
You glance sideways “Why are you always ahead of me?”
“Because I don’t stop to make dramatic entrances.”
“Jerk.”
“Aw, come on. You missed me.”
You roll your eyes “Only thing I miss is good intel. Got any?”
Ace shrugs “He’s headed west. Some say Jaya. Others say farther.”
You slam your notebook on the counter.
He lifts a brow “Still writing everything down?”
You flip through pages of hand-drawn maps, bounties, and coded rumors “Unlike you, I don’t rely on luck.”
Ace grins “I rely on fire.”
“You rely on being reckless.”
“You rely on overthinking.”
The two of you stare at each other. Then both laugh just a little.
There’s something about him you can’t hate, no matter how frustrating he is.
He taps your notebook “We should compare notes.”
You raise an eyebrow “Are we teaming up now?”
He smirks “Nah. Just wanna beat you to him fair and square.”
You lean in “Then good luck keeping up, Hothead. I’m faster now.”
Ace tilts his head “I like a challenge.”
He finishes his drink, drops some coins, and walks away, but then he pauses at the door.
“I’ll see you at the next dead end, Lightning Bug.”
“Say that again and I’ll roast you.”
He laughs and disappears into the heat.
You stare after him, heart thudding like thunder in your chest.
You're not here to cause trouble. You're just passing through Scorpio Island, a busy port with cheap food and a decent information network.
It’s humid. Loud. Smells like salted fish and sweet rice. You’ve just finished questioning a dockworker who “might’ve seen a man with a weird black beard” which isn’t helpful at all.
Then the air shifts.
You pause mid-step. Hair lifts slightly from your skin. Not from your powers but from instinct.
You’re being watched.
When you look up, Marines start stepping out from the alleys. One, two, six, then ten. Boots clinking. Guns half-drawn.
You blink.
“What…?”
The nearest officer, a man with a square jaw and too many medals, steps forward.
“Y/N, right?” he says like he already knows “You’re coming with us.”
You take a step back, palms up “I don’t want any trouble. I’m not a pirate or anything—”
He tosses something at you.
A bounty poster.
It floats through the air and lands at your feet, face-up.
Your face. Your name.
Wanted: 82,000,000 Berries.
Alive or dead.
“What the—?” You crouch to pick it up. Your fingers spark from the shock of touching your own damn bounty “This has to be a mistake. I didn’t do anything.”
“You took down the Captain of the Blackjaw Pirates in Loguetown. Witnesses saw lightning. Saw you.”
Your jaw drops “I wasn’t—! That was self-defense! He tried to rob a ship I was on!”
“You blew a hole in the harbor.”
You groan “He exploded first! I exploded back! It wasn’t like I was trying to—!”
“Doesn’t matter. You attacked a pirate with a bounty. You fought on public ground. That makes you a threat.”
You clench your fists. Static dances around your knuckles.
“I don’t want to fight you,” you say again, slower, sharper “I’m not your enemy.”
But they don’t listen.
They raise rifles. They step forward.
And you flinch, not from fear, but from frustration.
“DAMN it,” you mutter “Why is everyone so STUPID—”
Suddenly, there’s a gust of hot wind and a blur of orange and freckles.
“Oi” says a voice you recognize, just before your feet leave the ground.
“What the—!”
You're lifted off the street in a flash of fire, bridal style, and the world tilts.
Portgas D. Ace is grinning, even as flames flicker at his shoulders.
“She said she doesn’t want a fight,” he calls to the stunned Marines, like he’s announcing a party “So back off.”
And then he’s like flying. No, blasting forward in a burst of flame, carrying you over rooftops, streets, and screaming civilians until the port becomes a blur beneath you.
After making sure you got far enough, he sets you down gently. Too gently.
You slap his arm.
“What the hell, Ace?”
“Ow.”
“You could’ve dropped me!”
“Sure, but then I’d have to carry you again. This way saves time.”
You glare. Sparks flicker from your hands “I had that under control!”
“Yeah, I saw,” he says, flopping onto a patch of dry grass like this was a walk in the park “Totally calm. Not shouting at all.”
You kick a rock “They’re saying I’m some kind of threat now. I didn’t even mean to take that guy down! He attacked me!”
Ace lifts a brow “Big guy, metal jaw, kinda ugly?”
“That’s the one.”
“You melted his sword.”
“It was instinct!”
Ace whistles low “That’s why your bounty’s that high. Not many people take down a guy like that without trying.”
You fold your arms, seething “This is so stupid.”
Ace looks at you for a long moment “You okay?”
You sit beside him “No. I’m not. I’m not even close.”
“...You’re not gonna cry, are you?”
You shove his shoulder “I will electrocute you.”
He laughs “There she is.”
You look out toward the ocean, your anger slowly cracking “I didn’t sign up for all this. I just wanted to find Blackbeard.”
Ace’s smile fades “Yeah. Me too.”
You don’t say anything for a while. The wind brushes past, carrying sand and silence.
Finally, you ask, “So. What now?”
Ace stretches his arms behind his head “We keep chasing. And maybe next time, I’ll let you save me for a change.”
You side-eye him “...You just want to get carried.”
“I’m just saying it’s only fair.”
It’s late afternoon on Mira Island, a laid-back little place known for its wind chimes, lazy bars, and fishermen who talk too much.
You’ve been here two hours and already heard five versions of “a pirate with a black beard stole someone’s boat.”
Typical.
You’re sitting outside a bar near the water, boots up on the railing, pretending to enjoy a bland cocktail. The sun hits the sea just right, and for a second, you forget the bounty, the chase, the Marines...
"Nice poster, Sparkplug."
You freeze mid-sip. That voice again.
You lower the glass slowly and turn.
Ace stands there, grinning like always, flipping something between his fingers.
He slaps it down on your table.
Your new bounty poster.
It’s the same damn thing from Scorpio Island… but worse.
Now it says:
WANTED — Y/N
Dead or Alive — 142,000,000 Berries
And the picture?
You groan “Where the hell did they even get this photo?”
Ace leans on the table, chin on hand “Looks like a surveillance shot. Pretty high quality for Marines, honestly.”
You glare “I look good in it. That’s suspicious.”
He snorts “Right? I mean, hair’s all dramatic in the wind, eyes glowing. You look like you're about to declare war on God.”
You squint at him “Did you come here to bully me?”
“Nah,” he says “Came here to drink. Saw your face first thing at the port. Figured I’d come ruin your day.”
You grab your glass “Too late, it was already ruined.”
Ace sits across from you and signals the bartender “Then let’s make it worse.”
Two drinks later you're both laughing. You’ve moved on to shots.
It turned into a challenge somewhere between the third insult and the first real smile.
You’re trying not to slur. He’s trying not to fall off his stool.
“This island’s too quiet” you mutter, pouring another.
“You’re just mad it doesn’t have Marines to shock.”
“You’re mad I can outdrink you.”
Ace points at you “That’s not true. You’re just shortcircuiting, so the alcohol hits faster.”
You gasp “Did you just insult me?”
He nods “Twice, actually. You missed the first one.”
You slam your glass down “One more round.”
“Only if you ask nicely.”
You roll your eyes “Fine. One more round… idiot.”
He grins “There it is.”
Later on, you're both quieter. Buzzed, but not spinning.
You stare out at the sea, feeling the calm before the next storm. Because there’s always another storm.
You speak first “You know… maybe we should just make it official.”
Ace lifts a brow “What?”
You look at him, serious now “An alliance. You and me. Find Blackbeard together.”
He pauses.
Then he shakes his head, just once “Can’t.”
You frown “Why not?”
“He’s dangerous.”
You sit up straighter “You think I don’t know that?”
“He killed someone I cared about.”
Your breath catches “...Same.”
Ace doesn’t look at you when he says, “I can’t risk someone else.”
You stare at him, heart suddenly heavier “So what, all this time… you were just playing nice?”
He blinks “No.”
“Then were you feeding me fake info? Sending me in the wrong direction to keep me out of it?”
His expression hardens “I don’t do that.”
You cross your arms “Really? Because it kinda feels like I’m chasing a shadow and you’re chasing the real thing.”
“I gave you everything I had. Every rumor, every tip. That’s my style. I don’t lie to people I respect.”
You scoff “Respect?”
Ace leans in a little, face calm but serious “Yeah. You’re strong. Smart. Brave. You deserve better than chasing a monster into hell.”
You meet his eyes.
“I’m already in hell beacuse of him” you say.
Ace doesn’t respond. Just looks at you for a long time.
The silence between you is sharp. Electric.
And then he says, “...I’ll see you around, Sparkplug.”
He leaves before you can say anything else.
You sit there, staring at the table, fingers twitching.
The poster flutters in the wind, your own face looking back at you.
Wanted. Alone. Again.
It’s too damn hot.
You're holed up in an abandoned fishing shack on Gulliver Island, nursing a half-broken fan and peeling off your jacket like it’s trying to kill you.
Outside, the jungle hums with heat and insects. Inside, it’s just you, a damp rag, and one tall, shirtless idiot leaning against the doorway.
“Thought you’d be gone by now” you mutter.
Ace smirks. He’s barefoot, towel slung over his shoulder, sunburnt collarbone on full display.
“I was,” he says, stepping in like he owns the floor “But then I heard about a lightning girl terrorizing a squad of Marines a few miles up the coast.”
“I didn’t terrorize them,” you snap “They cornered me. Again.”
He raises both hands “Hey, I believe you. I just figured you might need a break.”
You glare “So you brought yourself?”
He grins “Thought you’d enjoy the view.”
Your eyes flick over his bare chest before you can stop yourself “Please.”
“Caught that.”
You toss your rag at his head. He catches it with one hand and chuckles.
Later, you sit across from each other at a short wooden table. There's barely enough space for two people, and your knees touch every time one of you shifts. You blame the heat for the sweat on your neck, not the way Ace’s eyes linger too long when you lean forward.
He slides something across the table.
Your bounty poster. Again.
You groan.
“They upped it,” he says casually “You’re at 170 mil now. Guess the lightning show made an impression.”
You snatch the paper “Why do they keep using this photo?”
“You look too good in it. Makes you more dangerous.”
You shoot him a look “I’m already dangerous.”
“Oh, I know.”
His tone is low. Too low. You feel it in your spine.
You set the poster down.
“So,” he says after a beat “What now?”
You shrug “Still chasing him. Still alone.”
Ace’s fingers tap the table. His knee bumps yours again and doesn’t move.
You meet his gaze. It’s hot in here, and not just because of the island.
“You ever get tired of being on your own?” you ask, voice soft.
He doesn’t answer right away.
“I’ve got reasons” he says eventually.
“I know. You told me.” You lean in a little “Doesn’t mean you have to like it.”
Ace watches you for a long moment. There’s tension now, real and pulsing. It builds between you like a charge in the air, like your own devil fruit is reacting to something deeper.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt” he says, quietly.
You look down, then back up at him “I don’t want to see you die chasing him alone.”
Your foot brushes against his under the table. Neither of you moves this time.
You could lean in. He could close the gap.
But neither of you does.
Instead, he stands, too quickly. His hand runs through his hair, like he’s shaking off whatever just passed between you.
“I’m sleeping on the roof,” he says “Too hot in here.”
You watch him leave, jaw tight, pulse racing.
The door creaks shut behind him.
You're left alone with the heat… and a storm you’re not sure you can keep holding back.
Weeks later.
The storm rolls in fast.
One second you're arguing with a stubborn trader about a Blackbeard sighting, the next you're sprinting through sheets of rain, your jacket clinging to your skin like a second, colder version of yourself.
Lightning flashes above. Loud. Familiar. Yours, or maybe not.
You duck under a hanging sign and shake out your soaked sleeves. Behind you, heavy footsteps squish through the mud.
“I told you to wait” Ace says, breathless.
You turn, rain dripping from your hair “I told you to keep up.”
His freckles are speckled with raindrops. His hair’s a mess. He looks unfairly good for someone drenched head to toe.
“Nice weather” you mutter.
“I swear, you summon this stuff on purpose.”
You smirk “Oh? Fireboy scared of a little water?”
He gives you a look “I’m not scared. I just respect the enemy.”
“What's that even supposed to mean.”
Thunder cracks above. You flinch slightly, but Ace notices. He steps closer, that infuriating grin back on his lips.
“Shouldn’t you be used to this?”
“Not when I’m stuck in it with you.”
He gestures to a shed nearby, half-hidden behind a fruit stand “There. Shelter.”
You glance at it. Small. Barely big enough for one of you.
“Great” you deadpan.
Inside the shelter it’s even worse than expected.
Dark, creaky, barely more than a shack. But it’s dry. Mostly. Except the roof drips in two places.
You stand awkwardly close. Too close. The space smells like rain and sweat and wood. His arm brushes yours when he adjusts his belt. You try not to react, but your skin’s already warm from the charge of the lightning earlier.
“You’re shivering” he says quietly.
“No, I’m not.”
He looks at you. Long. Serious.
“Come here.”
You stare “What?”
“I’m warm,” he says, and yeah, his Devil Fruit does give him an advantage here...
You hesitate. Just a second.
Then you sigh and step closer. He pulls you in gently, an arm around your waist, casual like it means nothing. But it does.
His skin radiates heat. His breath brushes your temple. You stand there, half-mad from how close his mouth is to your ear.
“Better?” he asks.
You nod, voice low “Yeah. It’s fine.”
“You sure?”
You feel his smile before you see it.
Then, softer “You know… I wasn’t trying to push you away. Lat time we met.”
You glance up.
“We’re not allies” you say.
“We’re more than that,” he answers “Aren’t we?”
The silence grows thick. Your heart pounds so loud it nearly drowns out the rain.
You tilt your head “You always this forward when you’re wet?”
He chuckles, low and slow “Only when I like the person I’m stuck with.”
You stare at him.
He stares back.
Your lips are inches apart.
And still… neither of you moves.
Not yet.
But the storm isn’t the only thing building.
The rain pounds the roof, wild and heavy. The wind howls through the cracks in the walls, but inside the shack it’s still.
Your breath hitches.
Ace hasn’t moved and neither have you.
Your fingers curl slightly into his shirt. He’s too warm. Too close. Too good at looking at you like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.
“Say something” you whisper.
His voice is rough “You want honesty?”
You nod.
“I think about you too much.”
You blink “That wasn’t the kind of honesty I was expecting.”
He grins but it's softer than usual “Then maybe you should stop expecting the worst from me.”
You don’t have a smart reply this time.
You tilt your face up. You’re done pretending the heat between you is just because of your devil fruits, or the jungle, or the shared goal of revenge.
This is different. And it’s real.
You lean in.
So does he.
The kiss is slow at first. Testing. His lips brush yours like a question.
Then it deepens.
Your fingers fist into the front of his shirt. His hand finds the back of your neck, thumb grazing your skin in a way that sends a sharp bolt of need straight through you.
You shift, pressing closer... hips brushing, mouths moving. The shack feels smaller. The air tighter.
You gasp when his teeth graze your lower lip.
He pulls back just enough to speak, voice hoarse.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the first island we met at.”
“You’re late” you murmur, tugging him back down.
This time, the kiss is rougher. More desperate. His hands on your waist now, yours sliding up under his shirt, fingers trailing over warm skin. He swears under his breath when you do.
You only break apart when a roll of thunder shakes the shack.
Your foreheads stay pressed together.
You’re both breathing hard.
Still wrapped around each other.
“Storm’s not letting up” he says.
“Guess we’re stuck.”
A small smile “Yeah. Real shame.”
Time pass and you’re curled up beside him, his jacket draped over you both like a blanket.
You trace a small burn scar on his shoulder lazily with one finger.
“You still want to find Blackbeard alone?”
Ace’s jaw tightens for a second.
Then he exhales “I don’t know anymore.”
You nod. You understand.
But for now, in this moment, neither of you are alone.
Weeks pass.
You and Ace keep crossing paths. At first, by accident. Now? You’re not so sure.
You bicker like rivals. Fight like friends. Flirt like something more.
“Lightning for brains” he mutters when you zap open a locked door instead of picking it.
“Matches-for-hands” you snap back, shoving past him.
But you don’t go separate ways this time.
It’s hot again. The island of Kota is all red dust and thick air. You’re sitting outside a half-crumbled tavern, nursing something too bitter to drink, when a kid, skinny, sunburned, eyes too sharp for his age, runs up to your table.
“You’re the lightning girl, right?”
You pause “Who’s asking?”
He glances around, then whispers, “I got news. About the man you’re hunting.”
That gets your full attention.
Ace looks up from his drink across the table. His whole body shifts, not much, but you feel it. Tension behind the ease. He’s worried, and trying to hide it.
“What kind of news?” you ask the boy.
“Blackbeard passed through Southshore two days ago. They say he’s headed to the mountains on Harka Isle. Big crew. Real big.”
The kid slips a folded paper into your hand and bolts before you can ask more.
You stare down at the message. Your pulse picks up. The handwriting is frantic. Names you recognize. Places that weren’t supposed to exist anymore.
“Let me see.” Ace says, reaching for it.
You snatch it away “No.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know if it’s real—”
“I’ll decide that.”
He leans back in his chair, jaw tight “You’re not thinking straight.”
You stand “And you’re not listening.”
The fight doesn't end when the sun sets.
You’re pacing your rented room above the tavern, lightning buzzing faintly under your skin.
Ace leans against the doorframe, arms crossed.
“You’re acting like you’ve already decided to die.”
You spin “And you’re acting like I don’t have a reason!”
He walks toward you “I never said that.”
“But you think it.”
Silence.
His voice drops “I think you’re carrying something too heavy. Alone.”
You look at him.
And something breaks open.
“You want to know exactly why I’m doing all this? Fine.”
You walk to him close, but not touching.
“He killed my brother,” you say “During the raid on Drum Island. Not with his own hands... Blackbeard’s a coward. But it was his chaos. His madness. My brother bled out in the snow, calling for me, and I was too far to reach him.”
Ace’s eyes darken. He doesn’t move.
“I don’t care what it costs,” you whisper “I don’t care if I burn out, or if I die with him. As long as I take that bastard down into hell with me.”
He exhales slowly, like your words hit something deep.
And then he steps forward.
“I hate this,” he says quietly “Because I get it.”
You don't say anything else.
You just reach for him.
Later on, the sheets are twisted. Your skin still hums, but not from lightning. You’re pressed against Ace, legs tangled, his hand stroking slow circles on your spine.
Neither of you says much.
You don't need to.
It wasn’t rough. It wasn’t fast. Not this time.
It was everything unsaid, poured out in touches and breath and the way he looked at you like you were more than vengeance.
You break the silence.
“You really think I can’t do it?”
“I think you can,” he says softly “I just don’t want you to lose yourself doing it.”
You stare at the ceiling.
Too late for that. But you don’t say it.
You just stay there, in the dark, skin on skin.
Storms can wait. But not forever.
The sun is cruel when it wakes you.
You turn over, reaching across the bed.
Cold, empty sheets.
Your stomach drops.
You sit up, frowning “Ace?”
No answer.
You scan the room. His shirt is gone. So are his boots. His dagger. His hat.
You rush downstairs barefoot, wild with sleep and fear “Ace?!”
The barkeep doesn’t even look up “Left before sunrise. Didn’t say much.”
Your pulse pounds in your ears “Left where?”
No answer.
You push out into the sun-drenched street. A headache builds behind your eyes “Damn it. Damn it, Ace—”
“Hey” a voice says. It’s the kid from yesterday, standing near the edge of the alley. Same nervous energy. Same sharp stare “He left you something.”
You rush over “Where is he?!”
The boy just hands you a folded piece of paper.
You open it with shaking hands.
I had to go ahead.
I know you’ll try to follow me. I hope you don’t.
If I can end this, maybe you won’t have to.
Don’t hate me for this. I’m not trying to leave you. I’m trying to save you.
You reread the words five times.
They don't sink in.
You press the page to your chest, breath shaking. But your mind grabs onto one thing.
He didn’t say goodbye.
He didn’t say he wouldn’t come back.
You chase every whisper. Every rumor.
Lightning burns under your skin as you cross sea after sea.
Someone saw smoke on Banaro Island.
Two men, one made of fire, one of darkness.
You go there.
You go to Banaro.
The island is scorched, like lightning and death danced a waltz across its surface.
Ash coats the wind. Trees splintered, rocks cracked down the middle.
Your stomach twists but your hope is louder.
“Ace won,” you whisper to yourself “He had to.”
There’s no body.
No blood.
You search until your knees ache. You find his hat, not burned, just buried under some rubble. You hold it to your chest and close your eyes.
Maybe he left it on purpose.
Maybe he’s coming back for it.
You smile.
You believe that.
You have to.
Three Days Later
You're in a small port town, hair damp from rain, scarf pulled tight as you sit in a dusty inn with a cup of bitter coffee.
There’s a newspaper crumpled on the table beside you. You’re not even looking at it.
Until you see the name.
“Portgas D. Ace: Captured. Now held in Impel Down.”
Your chest goes cold.
The mug slips from your fingers and shatters.
People glance over, but you don’t notice.
You just stare.
Captured.
Alive.
But for how long?
The newspaper says nothing about the fight. Nothing about what’s coming next.
But you know.
The World Government has him.
They’re going to make an example out of him.
You press your palms to your face and sit still for a long time.
Hope is still in your chest... But now it’s shaped more like panic.
06- When Luffy’s birthday turns into a group get away to a small cabin by a lake, you cannot deny his own brothers an invitation. Surely the week long get away would leave a lasting impression with his eldest sibling.
uhhh no warnings really but sharing food. i know some people are weird about that stuff 🤷♀️
Wednesday: Local Diner
You wake with a start, a hollow aching in your chest, and the room empty of your two friends. Despite your positions splayed out on the bed there is a deep seated knowledge that you will never be as comfortable and calm as you were during the movie last night.
And that alone, that fluttering of anxiety brought about, was enough to wake you fully.
Going through the motions of your morning routine is fairly easy. Yet there is something gnawing at the back of your mind the entire time. It holds an emotion that you cannot quite unlock at this hour, a thought that you unconsciously push back on, so that you can continue with your little vacation with a clear mind. You invested far too much time and money on this trip to allow it to be ruined by something a menial as your feelings.
Dressed for the summers day, you head downstairs to join the others in the breakfast spread already being picked on by the group. You collapse into one of the open seats and survey the variety of plates. Everything seems to be mostly intact, except for the platter of sweet rolls, and your shoulders drop in disappointment.
A knee knocks against yours under the table and you slowly turn to face Ace. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good, actually.” You smile at him. “What about you? Luffy actually stay in his own bed?”
“Yes, thankfully.” Ace rolls his eyes dramatically. He then turns back to his plate, and you believe the conversation to be over, until he reaches out in front of you to place a small plate down. “Saved these for ya.”
Your eyes turn to the small platter, fish painted around the perimeter of it, and notice the two sweet rolls with the icing that you like so much. The ones that you have eaten every single day this week, as Sanji has always made sure they were there at your request. “Oh.” Your voice is low and that ache has returned. “T-thanks, Ace.”
“No problem.” He simply shrugs and returns back to his meal.
Your eyes cast around the group, smiling to yourself at the light that each person seems to exude. It seems that the vacation, your own little break from life, has done wonders for everyone here. One light seems to shine the brightest though, and you catch yourself throwing occasional glances his way, allowing it to warm you through.
“I really think we should check it out!” Nami’s voice is chipper as ever as the sounds of forks scraping on plates reverberates through the room. Her eyes meet yours and you urge your brain to catch up on the conversation. “It’s supposed to be a cute little, local diner.”
“The ladies at the sale were raving about it.” You confirm, taking a slow sip of the fresh juice.
“Tired of my cooking already, my dears?” Sanji places a hand on his chest in mock offense.
“Of course not,” Nami quickly shakes her head, not wanting there to be any threat of Sanji not cooking for the remainder of the trip. Not that he would ever do that to her. “But you deserve a break for a night, this is your vacation too.”
Sanji shrugs, “I enjoy what I do.”
“It’s just one night.” Robin offers a smile.
“Yeah! And then you’ll be rested up to cook a big feast tomorrow!” Luffy grins, practically vibrating in his seat.
Sanji rolls his eyes, but voices his agreement nevertheless.
As plates empty and drinks are downed, everyone gets up to go about doing their own thing. Sanji waves off any offers of help with the dishes, especially with the knowledge of having a break, and the lingering crew is shooed out of the kitchen.
You move about your day on auto pilot, checking in with everyone as you wander mindlessly around the cabin. No agenda and no real goals for the day. It was something that started to gnaw at you in an odd was as you were left alone with your thoughts.
Before you could spiral any deeper, Ace pops into the room, patting at his pockets as if checking something. He scans the room with furrowed brows until his eyes land on you. “Oh, hey doll.” He grins at you, demeanor light. “You know where my keys are?”
“Think I saw them on the kitchen counter.” You remember the heat filling your face at the sight of his alligator key chain. He quickly turns to the kitchen, an aha soon followed by the jingling of keys. You watch him enter the room again with curiosity peaked, “And where are you going?”
He clutches the keys in his hand, mouth opening before he quickly stops himself, head tipping in thought. “Do you, uh, wanna go for a drive?”
“Where to?”
“Dunno.” A cheesy grin is offered to you. “Just wanted to go out and drive.” His shoulder leans in the door way as he watches you, brows raised and biting his lip as he awaits your answer.
And that look. That stupid look.
It was far too intriguing to deny. “Let’s go.”
You quickly follow Ace outside and to his car. He tugs the driver door open with a smile that he can’t seem to wipe away. The drive was meant to be his reprieve from the group, a moment alone, but he couldn’t deny that he was satisfied with the new development.
As you settle into his passenger seat, he works to hook his phone up, before handing it over to you. “Play me something good, doll.” He teases, as if he didn’t have the most broad taste in music imaginable. You scroll through his many playlists as he backs out of his parking space, turning the car towards the winding back roads. The smooth sounds of ABBA soon fills the air and Ace grins, reaching over to crank the volume. “I love this song.”
Ace begins to tap the rhythm against the steering wheel, head tipping back, before absolutely belting out the words. You break into a fit of giggles at the unexpected performance, watching as he does a little dance in his seat. “Come on, doll. Don’t play ABBA if you’re not gonna put on a performance with me.” Gone was the man quietly mouthing the words to the music days ago, replaced by the one entirely comfortable in making a fool of himself in front of you, seemingly with a goal of making you laugh. “Let’s go, it’s the chorus, you gotta know this.”
And who are you to deny Ace such a request? You follow him into the chorus and his energy only seems to raise at this. Amidst his little dance, he takes your hand in his, shaking it with emphasis to each word.
Songs change one by one, the energy staying high, and laughter echoing in the guitar solos. Ace drives with little purpose, taking winding roads and pushing the two of you further and further into the back woods. At some point, he turns off into a clearing to turn the car around and not get the two of you too lost.
As Ace throws the car in reverse, you lean forwards to turn the music down. “Alright, what kinda instrument do you play then? It’s gotta be something with the show you’re giving me.”
A grin pulls to his face as he throws an arm around the back of your seat, looking over his shoulder to avoid backing the car off of the mountain itself. You watch him closely, his body leaning towards yours and that sly grin on his face.
“I can play guitar, but I don’t perform or anything.” He moves his arm back to put the car in drive. “A little drums too, all just for fun though.” Eyes glance both ways for a brief moment, before he turns to look at you. “But i’m glad you were impressed.”
A playful smile pulls to your lips, “Well, I never said I was impressed.”
“Awh, you wound me.” He presses his palm to his chest and pouts at you.
“Awh, don’t cry, Ace.” Your bottom lip pokes out to match his pout and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to track the movement, your breath catching in your throat. He meets your eyes again and a flush overtakes his freckles.
You’re not given the chance for a comment as your phone rings. Both of you jerk back in surprise, Ace’s eyes turning to check the road again before he is pulling out. You raise the phone to your ear without even checking the name.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” Nami’s voice crackles over the line.
“Out on a drive.” You simply answer.
“A drive?” She pushes. “With Ace? Are you-“ The line cuts in and out as you only pick up a few syllables every now and then.
“Nami, you’re cutting out.”
Her voice finally cuts through, clear as day. “We’re starving!” You pull the phone away at the sheer volume she was speaking.
Ace chuckles, having overheard the statement. “Tell them to meet us there.” He simply shrugs. “We aren’t too far out.”
“Yeah, Nami just meet us there. ‘Kay?” You can vaguely hear her shout out an okay, followed by crackling words and pauses of silence. “Can’t hear you, love you, bye.” More crackling ensues but you hang up the phone. You toss your phone back into the cup holder in favor of Ace’s. “Do you know where the diner is?”
Ace nods, but you’re too deep in his playlist to notice. “We passed it up earlier.”
“Oh,” You raise your head to stare out the windshield in thought. “I didn’t even notice.”
With a simple shrug, the music is flowing again.
The concert ensues but it is a little bit more calm this time. Instead of belting out the lyrics, you’re given a moment to truly hear Ace’s voice, the sound washing over you and making your heart skip a beat. The next song you queue up is something you hoped matches his tone and allowed you to hear more.
But the diner is soon coming into view, much to your disappointment, and Ace is pulling into the gravel lot. The others hop out of the two cars as Ace parks, stretching their limbs as if they had been in there for ages.
Luffy bounces on his heels, “Let’s eat!” He beams as the group rush forwards. Part of you feels sorry for the wait staff and how much they were about to have to handle with your group.
You and Ace trail behind the group, bumping each others shoulders and sharing playful glances. As you enter the diner, you already see the group following after a waitress towards a large circular booth. Everyone slides around in the booth, Ussop pausing to allow Ace to slide in with Sabo, sending you a look as you move in beside of Ace.
Ussop takes place beside of you, elbowing you in the ribs and wagging his brows at you. You send the man a death glare before turning to flip the menu open.
Ace lets out a yawn as he looks over the menu, almost missing the waitress turning expectantly towards him for his drink order. He offers a sheepish smile to the woman. He shifts against the vinyl seating, bumping your shoulder by pure accident, and pulling your attention away.
“You okay?”
“Got really tired all the sudden.” He shakes his head.
You hum in thought, “Talk to me then. What are you getting?” And he seems grateful for the distraction, babbling on about the southern chicken platter sounding good, but the burgers sounding even better. Of course, he would want an extra side no matter what he ordered because he realized that he was absolutely starving. His appetite could combat Luffy’s, after all.
Then the attention is called to Zoro and Sanji’s bickering, something about the former being grateful to have a break from Sanji’s meals. A shouting match ensues and Nami lands a swift smack upside both their heads as she scolds them.
Conversation chatters on, and the woman is soon returning with two others at her side, all with giant trays in hand. They begin passing out plates, with the bulk being offered to the brothers. The group remains rowdy as ever and easily break the quiet ambiance of the local diner.
You dive into your plate of food, the chicken platter, happily shoving the food into your mouth. Crispy and perfectly seasoned, a grin pulling on your lips. Everyone else happily indulge in the southern style dishes, grins all around, and you had to admit to yourself that it was nice seeing Sanji so relaxed after a week of catering to you all. You offer a sideways glance to see Ace shoveling food into his mouth, freckled cheeks cutely puffed out, as he seemed to be enjoying his burger.
“Hey,” You call to him, cutting off a piece of the chicken to drop on his plate. “Try it, ‘s really good.”
Ace grins as he pops the piece of meat into his mouth. He nods in satisfaction, “Good, but the burger is definitely better.” Then he collects the greasy burger into one hand. “Try a bite.”
And as if it was the most casual thing in the entire world, you take a bite off the burger he was already halfway through. The melted cheese blended perfectly with the tangy barbecue sauce, but you shake your head at him. “You’re crazy, the chickens definitely better.” He dramatically rolls his eyes in response.
“Your tastebuds are broken.” Then he is reaching over to one of his side plates. “Here, try this. These are better than anything else.” He drops a couple of the fried cheese curds onto your plate.
You toss one in your mouth and a smile pulls to your face at the satisfying taste. “Okay, you’re right about that at least.” You collect the other one and lean into him a little bit, “Can I try the sauce?” You nod to the miniature ramekin that came with the dish.
“Sure, but they’re better without.” He picks up the black dish to offer over the dip.
Dipping the fried cheddar, you pop it into your mouth. “Oh, Ace, you’re crazy.” Your eyes blow wide. “That sauce is so good.”
“Well have at it then, doll.” He shifts his plates around to place the cheese curds between you. “I’m willing to share.”
You match his grin as you grab another.
The waitress puts in the work, but everyone is ever grateful for it. Sanji especially commended the woman for her work. She clears plates away as they empty, refills drinks, and even joins in on some of the groups banter.
Amidst this, you hear Ace yawning yet again. He leans against the space that has now been emptied in front of him. Ace’s eyes flutter shut, cheek slumping against his palm as sleep won over the best of him. His body was ridged but you figured it was a matter of time before he slumped fully against the table.
You gently place a hand on his knee and squeeze it in effort to wake him without startling him and causing a scene. Ace jolts awake at the feeling, back straightening, as he offers you a quick smile of thanks. Though he turns quickly, you don’t miss the way his cheeks flush. His hand dips below the table to grab for yours, clutching your hand and giving it a squeeze, a clear battle to stay awake flickering across his face.
You lift a hand as the waitress comes by, leaning over Ussop to order a black coffee, before she is off again to a new table.
The woman soon returns to gently place the white mug beside your iced drink. You silently slide the mug over with your free hand and offer another squeeze to Aces fingers.
The blush returns on his cheeks to accentuate the freckles fanning across his skin. “Thanks, doll.” Ace smiles as he collects the hot coffee.
The table that was previously overwhelmed with plates is now significantly dwindling down as everyone finishes up. Your waitress continues to pop in and out, the older woman reveling in the charming words of the blonde cook whenever the mood strikes him. The energy drops steadily as everyone gets their stomachs full.
With everything cleared up, the group lingers around the table in waiting for the undoubtedly hefty bill split a solid ten ways. You had apologized to the woman for having to split it up in such a way but she waved you off with a grin- “Just remember this when you’re leaving a tip.” And with a cheeky wink, she was off.
Despite the black coffee, there was still a tired glaze about Ace’s eyes.
“Alright, Ace, give me the keys. I’m driving back to the cabin.” Sabo juts his hand out. Ace goes to speak his protest but his brother quickly cuts him off. “Yeah, yeah, i’m sure you’re fine. But i’m not letting you wreck out in the middle of nowhere.” The two glare at each other for a long moment, before Ace relents and drops his keys into Sabo’s open palm.
The group divides up into the three cars- the brothers taking Ace’s car while you, Robin, and Ussop take Nami’s car and the guys pile in with Franky. Pleasant conversation passes between Nami and Robin in the front, while you are left in the back with Ussop side eyeing you. But he never makes a comment on the entire ride there.
However, when you arrive at the cabin, Ussop is calling you to sit with him outside on the porch. You already have an idea of what the topic of conversation is about to be as you plop into the porch swing beside of him, the chains swaying you both gently.
“Sooo,” Ussop drags out the word as he worries his shoe against the stained wood. “What’s going on with you and Ace?”
“Me and Ace?” You can practically feel your heart in your throat.
“You and Ace.” Ussop narrows his eyes.
You shrug with the facade of nonchalance, “We’re becoming friends, least i’m pretty sure we are.” Ussop tips his head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling, and drawing in a deep breath.
“Friends?”
“I think so, yeah.”
Ussop rubs a hand over his cheeks in exasperation. “I know you like to take care of your friends,” His head tilts to look at you closely. “But what was that at the diner?” Heat fills your cheeks and you force your eyes away, staring at the sun setting over the lake.
“I don’t know.” You purse your lips.
Silence lingers for a moment.
“Well do you have feelings for the guy?” He prompts, observing you very closely for any true indication. You blow out a breath and continue staring out, before throwing your hands out in a half hearted gesture to convey you do not know. “If you ask me,” His shoulder bumps yours in a shrug. “Or Nami. Or Robin. Or Franky.” He quickly adds. “The two of you are definitely falling.”
“Falling?” Your attention snaps to him. “Ussop, I barely know the guy.”
“Oh, so you’re in denial.” He huffs a laugh as you roll your eyes at him. “Been there.” The glare you send him does not deter his ramblings as he continues before you can protest. “But it’s different with a guy like that, ya know. He’s Luffy’s brother and that can really complicate things.”
“So i’ve heard.” You mutter bitterly.
Ussop sighs to himself, fidgeting with one of the many bracelets on his wrists. Worry furrows at his brow. “Do you remember Kaya?” He cannot meet your eye as he asks this.
“Your ex-girlfriend?”
“Yeah, that one.” He chuckles a humorless laugh. “You may not know this, but I used to be good friends with her brother. We were really close before I started dating her.” His voice is thick as he continues. “I don’t think i’ve seen his face since we broke up.” Hands drop in his lap as if they were iron weights. His words linger in the air for a moment before settling equally as heavy on you. “I’m not saying anything like that will happen if you do end up falling for Ace, but it’s something you should keep in mind.”
“Yeah, okay.” Your voice is low as you sink lower into the seat, allowing your head to fall on Ussop’s shoulder.
He slaps a hand onto your knee. “I’m not saying ignore your feelings, by the way.” Ussop speaks lowly, gently swaying the seat as he thinks over his next words. It seemed obvious that the newly found affection for Ace was far from the affection you held for the rest of your friends, no matter how heavily you denied or ignored it. “Just communicate and don’t be stupid for once.” You swat at his hand and his shoulders shake your head as he laughs.
The atmosphere shifts to normal as you watch the sun dipping low.
A thought pops into your mind. “Sooo,” You drag the word out. “Anyone having these conversations with Robin and Franky?” Your gaze tips up to Ussop just in time to catch the dramatic eye roll.
“I’m having them with Franky but that guy is kind of hopeless.” Curls fluff into your eyes as Ussop shakes his head. “Think they’re in the same state as you.”
01- When Luffy’s birthday turns into a group get away to a small cabin by a lake, you cannot deny his own brothers an invitation. Surely the week long get away would leave a lasting impression with his eldest sibling.
Note: I’m from the south of the US so if some phrases or game names sound weird, uh, my bad i guess
Friday: The Arrival
“So cool!”
Luffy’s loud voice echoes through the log cabin, the slapping of sandals on wooden floors was quickly followed by two other sets of footsteps.
“Hey, this place is Super!” Franky grins as he moves about the place along with Luffy and Ussop, stopping only to lightly rap his knuckles against the cabin wall in appreciation.
“Glad you guys like it. We will accept any form of compensation you have to offer us.” Nami grins, earning several glares.
“We already helped pay for this place.” Ussop points out.
“And we’re always open to tips.” She winks at you as she follows Sanji up the stairs, an array of bags slung over his shoulders.
The doors upstairs were already thrown open by Luffy, the rooms long explored before the rest of you were able to join. The group crowds by one of the open doors and peer inside.
“There’s only two beds in here!” Zoro grits, staring at the intricately carved wooden frames. Nami’s laugh echoes down the hall in a pleased way.
“Then this one is ours.” You brush past him to place your bag by one of the plush beds. “Unless you and Sanji wanna snuggle tonight, then by all means.” The glare you receive is deadly, but you have known Zoro far too long to be swayed. “Don’t worry, I won’t judge.”
“The other rooms better not be like this.” The man grumbles as he stalks off to check out the rest of the cabin.
His reaction wasn’t too pleased to find the second bedroom had the same set up, and the final with full sized mattresses shoved into wooden bunk bed frames. “Do we look like children!” The green haired man fumes.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” Nami laughs loudly, voice echoing from down the hall before she enters your room. “It’s a nice place! I wish we were closer to some shops or something, but it will do for what all we have planned.” She rambles on about the general store that was only a few miles down the road that Sanji was very eager to explore for ingredients. The only store, as any other direction led to windy roads and even more trees. “I was thinking the two of us could bunk up, if that’s okay?”
“Sounds like a plan. Robin is such a light sleeper, I’m afraid she would never sleep.” You quickly agree as the aforementioned woman enters the room.
“I believe Luffy’s brothers have just arrived.” She announces as she takes in the room with a faint smile on her face. And with a shriek that vibrated off of wooden walls, it seemed as if Robin was correct.
You lead the women to stare out the window at the sound of yelling from outside. There, you watch as Luffy practically launches himself towards the two men in an embrace. You’re impressed by how solidly they catch the younger guy, as if they were waiting on this exact thing.
“You haven’t met Ace yet, have you?” Robin prompts with a twinkle in her eye. You shake your head, and you can’t miss the look she and Nami share. As if there was a secret that only they were aware of. “I think you’ll like him.” She happily declares as Nami snickers at your side.
The yells of the brothers only grow louder as you join the group outside.
Sabo calls out your names in greeting, taking his chance to break away from his brothers, running up to the group before Luffy could bring him back into an embrace. Ace and Luffy remain close to the car in a mess of black hair and limbs as the older man attempts to wrestle his little brother off of him. Eventually, he gives in and reluctantly trails behind Sabo with Luffy hanging off of his shoulders in an affectionate display of brotherhood.
With the playful scuffle over, you are finally able to greet Ace. He looks rather similar to his childhood pictures, all tan skin and freckles, but the man carried himself with an easy grin that wasn’t evident in any of the photographs.
Ace greets the others before his eyes fall on you. There was something warm about his eyes, they held a similar mischievous sparkle you could always see in Luffy, but there was just something more.
Luffy breaks away from Ace before either of you can speak to throw his arm around your shoulders instead. “Ace! This is Y/N!” He grins bright as he looks between you and his brother. The guy was practically vibrating in excitement, happy to finally have all of his best friends and his brothers in one place. As reluctant as Nami had been on choosing this location, it was already worth it.
Ace repeats your name with a bright grin on his face, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Same to you.” Your head tips to the side at the charming smile being thrown your way. “It’s nice to finally meet the infamous Ace.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but is quickly cut off as Luffy launches forward to throw his arms around both brothers shoulders. “Oh, I can show you guys our room! It’s gonna be us three sharing, just like when we were kids!” He is then tugging the two inside as they groan in protest.
You watch them go for just a moment, but right before you look away, you notice Ace look back over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock as he smiles back at you and you cannot seem to explain the heat that instantly fills your face.
“Can you imagine Luffy as a kid? He’s already packed full of energy, I can imagine those two had their hands full with a brother like that.” Ussop wonders aloud.
“Something tells me that they could match his energy.” Robin laughs to herself.
The group files back inside the cabin, voices echoing from up stairs, as everyone arranges themselves comfortably about the common space. Not long after, the brothers shuffle down the stairs to join the group.
“First order of business,” Luffy launches himself over the back of the couch, landing on the cushion between you and Ussop with a muffled thump. “When’s dinner?”
“We got lunch not even an hour ago!” Sanji huffs, making you laugh. The road trip down had been rather pleasant for you- with Nami in the drivers seat, the calming presence of Robin, and stacks of bags in the back seat preventing a fourth member from entering the vehicle. This made it all very lax for the three of you. You can imagine that the other vehicle, driven by Franky, was much more chaotic with the five men packed inside.
“Well, yeah, but i’m already hungry.” He pouts.
“Why don’t we check out the lake for now?” Nami suggests with an eye roll. It would be a wonder if you make it out of this trip without accumulating some kind of debt from your shared grocery bill.
“Oh yeah!” Luffy perks up.
“You make sure to pack your floaties, Lu?” Sabo teases with a grin. The boy whines out his protest as the group laughs, landing a punch to his brothers arm. This led to the blonde chasing Luffy up the stairs for his revenge.
The group soon follows and you realize Nami has made a break for your suit case as Robin closes the door behind her. “Let’s see what looks you two brought along.” Nami grins mischievously as she begins to dig through your belongings. As much as you wanted to fight it, Nami was nothing if not persistent when it came to clothing, and this was a rather common occurrence. She pulls a bathing suit out and holds it up towards you from a distance. Humming to herself, she turns to grab another and goes through the same routine. She nods in satisfaction at this one and tosses it across your shared bed.
Robin is sat on the white sheets of her bed in waiting for the same treatment. There was never any avoiding it.
“So,” Nami begins, being far more delicate with Robins things than she was yours. “What did you think of Ace?” She directs the question to you with a tiny smirk on her face.
Your brows shoot up, as the question took you off guard. You had maybe five minutes of being in the man’s presence and he was already the main topic. “I mean, he seems cool. Didn’t expect him to be so-“
“So dang attractive.” She grins teasingly.
You cannot help but laugh as she holds Robins own garments up as she did your own. “Not what I had in mind,” You shake your head. However, she already knew she wasn’t wrong. Dark messy curls, freckled cheeks, and that deep, raspy voice. In fact, attractive may have been too light of a term but you wouldn’t dare voice something of that notion.
The conversation drops as everyone gets ready, Nami already having carefully planned her first outfit for their lake day in advance. Once changed, you all exit to the room to a chorus of loud voices carrying from downstairs.
“Hundred berry says Sanji gets a nose bleed.” You mutter as you walk down the stairs.
Nami throws a glare over her shoulder, “I don’t take losing bets, Y/N.”
And just in time, “Wow!” Sanji’s voice rings out in that lovesick tone you were all too familiar with. “You ladies look gorgeous!” A flurry of compliments follow the three of you out the door and towards the lake.
The cabin offered a gorgeous view, one you and Nami were rather pleased with after so many rejected luxury resorts. The lake was just outside the cabin, a sandy beach that led into the sparkling waters. Mountains in the distance faded away into the water and set up the perfect spot to watch the sun rise and set. A volleyball net was nestled into the sand and a line of beach chairs sat not far off. There was a dock a distance away as well, perfect for the many fishing adventures Luffy and Ussop were already planning.
The group hit the sand running, splashing into the waters with little hesitation. Rough housing, races, and efforts to dunk each other under the water quickly ensued. You, Nami, and Robin join them with zero hesitation. The group of guys viewed you as sisters, more or less with Sanji’s flirting, and did not hesitate to offer the same treatment. They very well knew you were capable of handling yourselves.
It wasn’t long before you were called up on Zoro’s shoulders, Nami on Sanji’s across from you, as a fight of chicken ensues. Nami grapples with your hands, a smirk on her face that waivers a bit as you push back. Zoro and Sanji bicker from under you, one of Zoro’s hands leaving your leg to push at Sanji’s chest.
“Hey! Easy down there!” You call out, smacking at the mossy green hair when you waver on his shoulders. Nami takes her chance to push forwards, shoving at your shoulders, in hopes to throw you off. With a lack of support from Zoro and Sanji from their own pushing and bickering, you feel yourself begin to fall. Quickly grabbing Nami, you use the momentum against her, a heap of limbs splashing into the water as everyone around you cheers.
You emerge from the water, wiping droplets from your eyes, to the sound of Zoro and Sanji arguing over who won. The game continues as different pairs battle it out. It’s not until Luffy and Ace team up that your clear winners are defined, as Ussop claimed the former to have “a ridiculous reach” which no one was able to argue against.
After seemingly hours of games and splashing around, you retire to the sand with Robin and Nami. There’s an easy air about the group as you all settle down on beach towels together, laying out to dry off and get a tan in.
The loud voices seem to drown out in the distance, giving no way to a more calm chatter of conversation between your little group on the sand.
Soon after, you can hear Luffy calling your names, a shadow cast over your faces as he stands over the three of you. “Let’s play volleyball!” Luffy offers a toothy grin as he holds up a blue and red ball before your faces. “C’mon!”
The sunny smile he send you all has you reluctant to deny him, pushing up onto your elbows to look up at him. “Alright, I’m in.” You relent, leaning up and dusting sand off of your arms. Luffy grins before offering a hand to help you stand.
“I’m out.” Nami grumbles into her arm.
“As am I.” Robin nods, but at least offers the guy a smile.
The smile wipes from his face. “Come on!” Luffy whines, pouting at the two women. “It’s not as fun without four people!”
“No!” Nami huffs back. “We have been swimming for hours, now I want to work on my tan before the sun goes down.
“You guys are lame.” Luffy pouts, muttering under his breath as he remains standing over them for just a moment. He finally huffs and looks over at you, “At least you’re fun.” He playfully rolls his eyes as Nami swats out at his legs from her position. “It’s fine, see Y/N, this is what I have brothers for.” He simply states, before turning towards the water and loudly calling out their names. The brothers snap to attention, heads whipping around to meet their brother, as he holds the volleyball above his head. “Come play!”
Ace and Sabo exchange look, glancing back towards you, before shrugging. They push through the water until they are back on solid ground, tossing wild hair to shake water droplets from the ends, before they join the two of you.
“Perfect, now teams-“
“I want Y/N on my team,” Ace is quick to interrupt as he leans closer to you, offering you a charming smile. Long lashes flutter over freckled cheeks and you cannot deny yourself a moment to take the man in. There was just something about him, his presence, that seemed to draw you in. “Looks like she could wipe the floor with you two herself.” He offers a playful sweeping look over your figure. You raise a brow in question and Ace simply grins back at you.
“Yeah right!” Luffy quickly defends his new team, uncaring of how everyone was split, as long as his brothers were playing. “Sabo and I are totally gonna win.”
“Keep dreamin’ Lu.” Ace smirks.
The two brothers huff off to their side of the net with a competitive spark in the air.
Your eyes fall to Ace with an amused smile, “Seems i’m caught up in the middle of some sibling rivalry.”
Ace grins at this, “Nah, those two are just used to losing to me.” There’s a cocky smile on his face, but you’re not given the chance to revel in it, as Luffy begins yelling for the two of you to get ready and start the game.
You take net as Ace positions himself behind you, preparing for the serve that likely would be targeted directly at him. His brothers were more than determined to beat him.
Luffy offers a hard hitting serve, a sting in Ace’s forearms as he bumps it to you. There’s an easy smile on your face as you offer him the perfect set up. Ace spikes the ball directly between Luffy and Sabo, groans leaving the pair as they attempt to dive for it and headbutt each other in the process, the ball hitting the sand.
A cheer leaves your mouth as Ace bounces on the balls of his feet, sauntering a step forwards to offer both hands in a high five, which you quickly accept.
“Lucky shot.” Sabo grumbles as he rolls the ball back under the net.
Ace scoops the ball into his arms before jogging outside of the sand barrier court.
Your eyes focus ahead, noting how Sabo watches his brother like a hawk from the back row and how Luffys bounces in place. You wait in anticipation, absentmindedly adjusting your bathing suit following all of the movement from the earlier play, ensuring there would be no awkward wardrobe malfunctions you would have to endure. Twirling one of the string at your hip around your finger, you finally hear the ball being tossed in the air and a distinct crack of it being smacked… only for it to connect with the net and drop at your feet. Sabo and Luffy laugh loudly as you turn to look at Ace.
“So, what happened to all that smack you were talking?” Your arms cross over your chest. Ace’s cheeks flush, the color rushing to the tips of his ears as he avoids your gaze.
“Sorry, uh, Luffy was distracting me.” Ace awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as you go to scoop up the ball.
“Yeah, Luffy.” Sabo scoffs, earning a glare from his brother.
“Yeah, okay, get it over the net this time. I don’t wanna lose a point by default if you miss again.” You tease the man, who playfully rolls his eyes.
The game continues blow for blow, the score fighting to push one of you ahead for the victory. Despite the initial unfamiliarity, you and Ace have managed to adapt to one another. It was as if you found a flow within each other. You somehow always knew where Ace was and he was always there to back you up when needed. It became an easy flow for the two of you, an equal partnership of setting each other up, and plenty of celebratory high fives that led up to you drifting closer and closer each and every time.
“Game point, your serve.” Ace grins at you, tossing the ball over. This had been the third game point as the brothers would never be satisfied unless someone won by two points. It seemed every time someone was one up, the other team scored to prevent the win. “You got this, Y/N.”
The serve is flawless.
Sabo fumbles the receive, but Luffy manages to tip it over the net with only two hits, pushing it over Aces head and in your direction.
You grin at the easy pass to Ace, who sets you up, and allows a perfect spike to Luffy. The boy fumbles it, hitting it but also sending it flying over his head. Sabo sprints after it, clumsily sending it back. Luffy dives for it, but he’s entirely unsuccessful as the ball bounces weakly off of his forearm and leaves him defeated in the sand.
Yours and Ace’s cheers ring over the lake, voices blending as the man pulls you into a triumphant embrace, effectively smushing you into his bare chest. A breezy laugh leaves you as you glance up at him. His hand places gently on your hip as he shifts to gloat to his brothers, rubbing your shared victory in their faces, a bright grin on his face. Ace is overwhelmingly warm and the sand stuck to both of you seems to grit at your skin, and yet, you can’t wipe the smile from your face.
Ace finally looks down to meet your eye, a sparkle in them, before they blow wide and heat fills his cheeks. “Sorry.” It’s a breathy and rushed as he takes a step back. You nearly stumble from the sudden change in support.
Luffy and Sabo pout for a moment longer, before Luffys stomach begins to interrupt their whining. He places a hand over his bare stomach and he looks to your group of friends with a frown. “Where’s Sanji? I’m hungry!” He calls out.
Nami laughs to herself as she stands from her beach towel, “He went inside already to start dinner.” She bends over to grab her towel from the sand, shaking it out dramatically to remove any lingering particles. “We should probably join him, get cleaned up before dinner. I need to wash the lake out of my hair.”
Everyone mutters their agreement, collecting their things and heading off towards the cabin.
There’s just enough time for everyone to fight for one of the two bathrooms in the cabin, some zoro having to be chastised for smelling like lake water by Nami before they even agree to shower, before Sanji is calling out for everyone to gather around the table. Just like the bed frames above, the kitchen chairs are carved with the same intricate patterns.
Everyone takes their place, Luffy decisively taking place at the head of the table, before he lifts his cup up in cheers. You all follow suit.
↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟
The bedroom was too hot. Nami pressing up against your side was too much. The tired mumbling in your ear was driving you insane. An elbow digs into your ribs and you suddenly regret agreeing to give up the bed for Robins sanity. What about your sanity?
With a loud huff, you peel yourself away and nearly stumble out of the bed, sleepily landing on your feet. You allow the other two the courtesy of silently escaping the room. Even though Nami was surely not being courteous of you and your sleep- you suppose it’s not her fault as she is sound asleep, but you don’t truly care at the moment.
You’re surprised to see light from downstairs, knowing that everyone had long retired to bed, but you cannot bring yourself to care. If you stay in that room any longer, you may go mad. You press on to the kitchen.
Ace is stood with his back turned to you, shirtless and perfectly showing off the sword and skull back piece in colored ink. It was something you easily noticed earlier, but the man was in constant motion so you weren’t able to see the finer details. The hibiscus flowers that framed the skull, the pink beads flowing around the hilt, or the black bandana fitted on the skulls head. It was gorgeous worked that fit perfectly along his muscled back.
Tearing yourself from the moment of admiration, you notice it seems as if he’s looking out the window above the sink and entirely lost in thought. You rock back on your heels and clear your throat in hopes to catch his attention.
Ace quickly whips around and a tired smile pulls to his lips. “Oh, hey. What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep, think Nami was seconds away from throwing me into the floor.” You shrug, returning his tired smile, before walking further into the kitchen.
“Yeah, I get it.” Ace smiles at you as he leans on the counter. “I used to share a room with Luffy and Sabo, but I can’t say that I remember them both snoring so loud.” He states, making you laugh. “I mean, they’re at least in the other bed, but it’s like they’re trying to take this whole place down with it.”
You grin at him, moving to lean on the counter across from him. “Oh, you mean we aren’t right next door to an active construction zone?”
Ace chuckles at this, a deep and hearty sound that seems to warm up the entire room. “Nope, that would just be my little brothers.” You hold each others eye for a long moment as a laugh bubbles up in your chest. Ace eventually drops his head, fingers tapping along the counter in deep thought. “So, uhm, you’ve been friends with Luffy for a while, yeah?
“Oh, uh, yeah. He just kind of brought me into the friend group one day, we barely even know each other but Luffy said it was ‘just a feeling’ that we would all be good friends.” You laugh, offering air quotes around the words. “I think that’s kind of how he did all of his friends, actually. Just decided he would be friends with us and we somehow fit together.” You hum in thought. “Sanji and Zoro might raise some questions at times, but those guys are like brothers. Just brothers who constantly fight.”
“Luffy does that.” Ace smiles to himself. “If he decides he wants to be your friend, then you’re never getting away from him. And I mean never.” His head raises, lidded eyes slowly dragging up your form, before he draws in a deep breath. His teeth catch his bottom lip for a brief moment, “He’s lucky to have you, friends like you.” Ace speaks as if the gears are slowly turning in his head. He is silent for a beat, before looking back up at you as if he had worked something out in those few moments of silence. “I appreciate you planning all of this, ya know, for him. So thank you.”
“Oh, it wasn’t just me. Nami, Sanji, and pretty much everyone else all helped.” You quickly shake your head.
“Yeah, but.” Ace shakes his head with a small laugh. “The fact that you all were willing to do it,” He trails off biting at his lip. “Birthdays weren’t a big thing for us growing up so it’s… it’s really nice.”
“ ‘S the least we can do. Luffy does a lot for us all.” You shrug it off.
“Yeah, he’s a good guy.” Ace hums.
A smile pulls to your lips as you lean a little bit closer. “Yeah, well, I heard that he learned it all from his big brother.”
Ace makes a small sound in the back of his throat before his eyes flicker away. “Yeah, Sabos great.” He mutters.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
Ace forces a laugh, “Yeah, well, you don’t know me that well, doll.”
“Lucky you, I have all week to get to know you.”
Ace raises a hand to his face, rubbing at his jaw, lips set into a frown. “Yeah, lucky.” He mutters before standing straight and offering a strained smile. His warm brown eyes look a little bit colder. “We should both go to bed, yeah? Probably gonna be a long day tomorrow.”
You watch the man closely, the way his shoulders are tense and his whole demeanor has changed. “Yeah we should.” You agree quietly, rocking back on your heels. The shift in the atmosphere was clear and Ace was here first to be fair. You turn to leave, but something stops you in your tracks, slowly turning to face him again. “Ya know, bad guys don’t usually thank other people for doing something for a friend, little brother or not.”
Ace stays silent for a moment, watching your retreating form. He blows out a breath, “Goodnight, doll.”
The salty sea breeze tugs at your clothes as the Red Force sails toward the inevitable. The tension on the ship is thick, suffocating. The usual camaraderie and laughter of the Red-Haired Pirates have been replaced with quiet, unspoken understanding—this battle might be their hardest yet.
You stand near the ship’s railing, gripping it tightly as the enemy fleet grows larger on the horizon. You’ve fought before, stood beside Shanks and his crew through countless battles, but something about this one feels different. More dangerous.
A warm arm drapes around your shoulders, pulling you against a familiar chest “You’re tensing up again.”
You glance up at Shanks, his face bathed in the glow of the setting sun. His usual carefree smile is there, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Even now, as danger looms, he tries to make it easy for you.
“I’m fine” you murmur, leaning into him.
He chuckles softly “Liar.”
You don’t respond. Instead, you let yourself sink into the comfort of his warmth, his heartbeat steady against your ear. His hand traces slow, reassuring circles against your arm, a silent promise that he’s here, that he’ll keep you safe.
A lie.
You swallow the lump in your throat “Shanks… promise me something.”
His fingers pause “Hm?”
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then presses a lingering kiss to your forehead “I promise.”
Another lie.
The battle begins faster than expected. Cannons roar, steel clashes, and chaos erupts across the battlefield. Smoke clouds the sky, shouts and screams mixing with the deafening crash of waves against ships.
You stay close to Shanks at first, cutting down anyone who gets too close. You’ve fought alongside him before, and he never treats you as weak—he knows you can handle yourself. But this time, something is different.
Because this time, Shanks is bleeding.
You see the moment he falters, the way his body tenses as blood seeps through his coat. His grip tightens around Gryphon, but his movements are just a second slower than usual.
“Shanks!” You rush toward him, but before you can reach him, he turns—his expression unreadable.
“y/n, run.”
Your breath catches “What?”
His single hand grips your wrist, his hold firm despite the way his strength is fading. His eyes, usually filled with warmth and mischief, are deadly serious.
“I’m ordering you to leave.”
“No.” You shake your head violently “No, I’m not leaving you like this.”
“Y/N!” His voice is steady, even as blood drips onto the ground between you “This isn’t up for debate.”
Anger and fear surge through you “I don’t care if you’re my captain—”
“I do care.” His grip tightens for a brief moment before he releases you, stepping back “And as your captain, I’m ordering you to go. Run as far away as you can!”
Tears sting your eyes “Shanks, please. I can help you—I can fight!”
He smiles then, soft and heartbreaking “I know you can. But I won’t risk losing you.”
A sword swings toward him, and he blocks it just in time, gritting his teeth. His opponent lunges again, forcing him back, and you take a step forward—
“Y/N!” His voice cuts through the noise like a blade, raw and desperate. His eyes meet yours, and in them, you see everything he can’t say. Run. Live. If you love me, you’ll leave.
Your entire body trembles. Every instinct screams at you to stay, to fight, to protect him like he’s always protected you. But this is an order.
A final order.
With a broken sob, you turn and run, his voice lingering in your mind like an echo you’ll never forget.
When you finally look back, the battlefield is nothing but fire and smoke, and Shanks is nowhere to be seen.
The ocean air feels suffocating as you run, each step pulling you farther away from the man you love. Your heart is pounding, not just from exertion, but from the sickening dread that settles deep in your chest.
This isn’t right. You shouldn’t be leaving. You should be by his side, fighting, protecting him like he’s protected you.
But his voice—his order—rings in your ears.
Tears blur your vision as you reach the escape boat docked at the edge of the battlefield. A few crew members are already there, fighting to hold off enemies as they prepare to retreat.
Lucky Roux catches sight of you. His expression darkens, but he doesn’t question why you’re here. He knows.
“Get in” he says gruffly, cutting down an enemy before shoving you toward the boat.
“I—I can’t—” Your voice is raw, shaking “Shanks is still—”
“He ordered you to go, didn’t he?” Benn Beckman’s voice comes from behind you. He’s covered in blood, his rifle still smoking from recent gunfire. His expression is unreadable, but his sharp gaze locks onto yours “Then follow it.”
You shake your head, gripping the sides of the boat “But what if—”
“He wouldn’t have sent you away if he didn’t think it was necessary” Benn cuts in, his voice firm but not unkind “Trust him.”
Trust. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Trusting that he’ll survive. Trusting that this order isn’t just to get rid of you, but to protect you.
But it feels so wrong.
You hesitate, your nails digging into the wood. Behind you, the battle rages on, cannons firing, swords clashing. You strain your eyes, searching for red hair in the chaos, searching for any sign of him.
Nothing.
“Go.” Beckman’s voice is softer now, but there’s no room for argument.
With a final, shaking breath, you step into the boat.
The moment it pulls away from the battlefield, the weight of it crashes down on you. You grip the sides so tightly your knuckles turn white. The salty wind stings your face, mixing with the wetness of your tears.
You feel like a coward.
You feel like a traitor.
You don’t know how long you sit there, staring blankly at the bloodstained waters. Time moves painfully slow, stretching endlessly as the battle fades into the distance.
And then—silence.
The fighting is over.
The Red Force never comes.
Days Later
You barely remember docking at a remote island, the crew scattering to tend to wounds, to grieve, to wait.
You haven’t spoken since leaving. Haven’t eaten, haven’t slept. All you do is stare at the horizon, waiting for a red ship, for a familiar silhouette, for a sign—any sign—that he’s still alive.
Nothing.
Your hands tremble as you press them against your face, trying to block out the thought that keeps creeping into your mind.
What if he’s gone?
What if that was the last time you ever saw him?
You never even said goodbye.
You should’ve fought harder. Should’ve stayed. Should’ve told him one last time how much you loved him.
A shaky breath leaves your lips.
You can’t lose him. You won’t.
And if the Red Force never comes to find you—
Then you’ll find him.
Weeks Later
The wait is unbearable. Every day that passes without word from the Red Force chips away at you, leaving you hollow. You don’t eat much. You barely sleep. The crew watches you with quiet concern, but no one tells you to move on. They’re grieving too.
But you don’t accept it. You won’t accept it.
Shanks isn’t dead. You refuse to believe that the man who held you in his arms just days ago—the man who kissed you and promised he’d come back—is gone.
So, you prepare to leave.
It’s reckless. You don’t have a full crew, or even a proper ship. Just a small vessel, enough supplies for a journey, and the unwavering determination to find him.
Beckman finds you before you can set sail.
“You’re really going through with this” he says, arms crossed, watching as you load the last of your supplies.
You tighten the ropes securing the mast “You already know the answer.”
He sighs, stepping closer “You don’t even know where to start looking.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
Beckman studies you for a long moment. Then, finally, he pulls out a folded, weathered map and presses it into your hands “We heard rumors about a wreckage near the outer islands. No sign of the Red Force, but… some of the bodies matched the enemy crew.”
Your stomach twists. You unfold the map, tracing the route with your fingers. It’s not much to go on, but it’s something.
You grip it tightly, looking up at him “Thank you.”
Beckman hesitates, then places a hand on your shoulder. His voice is softer than usual “If he’s alive, he’ll find his way back to you.”
You nod, even though you’re not willing to wait that long.
Days at sea turn into weeks. You follow every rumor, every whisper of a battle-torn ship, every sighting of a red-haired swordsman. But nothing leads you to him.
You find traces—abandoned camps, wreckage of enemy ships, scattered reports of someone like him—but never him.
The desperation eats at you. You can’t stop. You won’t stop.
Then, one night, during a brutal storm, your ship is caught in monstrous waves. Lightning cracks across the sky, illuminating the endless sea. Your grip on the wheel is tight, arms aching as you fight to keep the vessel steady.
And that’s when you see it.
A shadow in the distance. A wrecked ship, barely afloat. Tattered sails. A flash of red against the darkness.
Your heart slams against your ribs.
No. It can’t be—
Without thinking, you turn the ship toward it. The storm fights against you, but you don’t care. You push forward, fueled by nothing but raw desperation.
As you draw closer, you see movement on the wreckage. A lone figure, slumped against the railing.
And then the lightning strikes again, revealing the face you’ve been searching for.
Shanks.
Your breath catches. He looks half-dead—soaked, bloodied, barely holding onto consciousness. But he’s alive.
“SHANKS!” You don’t even think before leaping from your ship, crashing into the icy water. The current fights against you, but you push forward, reaching for him.
His head lifts slightly, dazed eyes meeting yours “y/n?” His voice is hoarse, barely audible over the storm.
You grab onto the wreckage, pulling yourself up beside him. He’s worse than you thought—his coat is torn, bandages wrapped haphazardly around his torso, dried blood staining his skin.
Tears sting your eyes “You idiot,” you choke out, cupping his face “You ordered me to leave, and look at you now.”
A weak chuckle escapes him “Guess… I should’ve ordered you to come back sooner.”
Despite everything, a broken laugh leaves your lips “Yeah. You should have.”
His body sags against you, exhausted, but his fingers find yours, gripping them tightly “You found me.”
You press a trembling kiss to his forehead “Of course I did.”
Shanks’ body is weak against yours, his breathing uneven, but his grip on your hand is firm—like he’s afraid that if he lets go, you’ll disappear.
You press your forehead against his, tears mixing with the rain that drips down your face “I thought I lost you.” Your voice cracks, and you don’t care.
His fingers brush against your cheek, slow and unsteady “Nah… you’re stuck with me.” He manages a weak smirk “You partially ignored my order, huh?”
You sniffle, smiling through the tears “Worst captain I’ve ever had.”
He chuckles, though it quickly turns into a cough. You hold him closer, pressing your lips to his temple, whispering “Let’s get you home.”
But before you can move, his grip on your wrist tightens. His gaze locks onto yours, filled with exhaustion, love, and something else—something deeper, something unchanging.
“y/n,” he murmurs, voice still rough but laced with warmth “new captain’s orders.”
Your breath catches “What now?”
His thumb brushes against your skin, his touch gentle despite the pain he must be feeling “Stay by my side. Always.”
A sharp breath escapes you, and for the first time in weeks, your heart feels whole again.
You nod, leaning in until your lips are just above his “Aye, Captain.”
Then you kiss him—soft and deep, pouring every ounce of love and relief into him. He sighs against you, melting into the touch, his fingers tangling weakly in your soaked clothes like he never wants to let go.
first of all, it will not show on his face. ever. years of steeling himself to face any life-threatening obstacle has made it easy for the swordsman to hide his feelings under a facade of his typical cold indifference… at least that's what he thinks
meanwhile Shanks is over here like
bc he clocks it even before Mihawk himself realises he harbours feelings for you. Shanks could tell from the way his old friend would linger behind you at all times, eyes darting towards any sign of danger; how the ends of his lips quirked upward ever so slightly every time you speak to him and how intently he listens even if the topic is obviously not something the swordsman is interested in. your captain knows had it been anyone else (including him!) trying to make conversation about such mundane things, Mihawk would’ve long walked away
no one on the crew questions how often the Warlord seems to be tagging along, everyone just assumes he has his own business to take care of and hitching a ride on the Red Force just happens to be the most efficient way
you’re ecstatic that he’s coming aboard more frequently, however, and are not afraid to show it, often dragging him around the ship to show him your favourite spots. your shamelessness makes your fellow crewmates fear for your life but after a while even they get used to the sight of you pulling around the Greatest Swordsman in the World like a mother cat with her kitten. they dare not assume anything about the man but behind closed doors, some do gossip about how strange it is he’d allow you to do such a thing with no repercussions
Mihawk believes he fell for you after one particular interaction in which you forwent taking part in some festivities in favour of sitting beside him a distance away from the party
“shouldn’t you be dancing with the locals or something?” he’d commented rather snarkily, assuming you perhaps had some ulterior motives for staying by his side.
“i just want some peace and quiet tonight.” you shrugged. “it’s nice sitting with you in silence,” you added with a smile and for the first time in a long time Mihawk felt blood rush to his face. “but i can leave if i’m bothering you.”
“no,” he answered before he could even fully process your offer. “you may stay.”
your smile grew wider and some foreign feeling gripped at his heart.
it’s been a while since that night and he’s long since accepted that that feeling was some kind of infatuation; or at least, that’s what it started out as. day after day he feels his heart yearning for you; at first the feeling was simply small and nagging but it’s long since grown into something akin to desperation, like how one’s lungs would yearn for air after holding their breath for far too long
your voice is the sweetest sound Mihawk’s ever heard and on days he isn’t aboard your crew’s ship, he wishes to hear it more than anything. you could talk to him about snail anatomy and his need would be more than satiated
your touch burns his skin but it hurts more when you let go. so often you grab him by the wrist to pull him around, the contact itself enough to send his poor heart racing. the simple action flusters him so much he always wishes for you to let go before his facade breaks but when you finally do, arriving at where you wanted to bring him, he wants nothing more than for you to hold his hand again
Mihawk feels like a child. actually, scratch that, even as a child he’d never felt this way around anyone before. always laser-focused on his swordsmanship, he never saw the need to seek out companions in general. he’d keep the rare ones he stumbled across and liked well enough but never actively looked. even meeting you was purely a coincidence; had you not joined his old friend’s crew, he’s sure you never would have met
he’s thankful that you did, though
“would you care to join me for dinner tonight?” the swordsman asks from across the ship’s library where the two of you had been browsing books in silence for a while now.
“dinner?” you respond rather lamely, surprised by the sudden invitation. he smiles to himself but you aren’t able to catch it from so far away. he, however, more than easily notices your flustered expression. “just us two?”
“yes.”
“... is it…” you look away from his direction and kick at the floor at some non-existent rocks, “... a date? like a… romantic date?”
your sudden shy demeanour is so endearing to the man he feels what can only be described as ‘cuteness aggression’ as he resists the urge to close the wide gap in between the two of you.
“only if you want it to be,” Mihawk replies rather smoothly, a stark contrast to his anxiety-ridden heart that’s currently pounding so hard in his chest it feels like it's about to explode. at his answer, your eyes meet his and you smile so sweetly it nearly knocks him off his feet.
summary: Trafalgar Law discovers you’ve been hiding a severe injury from him
a/n: another req from the end of dec last year! back then i still wasn’t very confident with Law’s character but i think i should be good enough with it now :3c
contents: pre-relationship, descriptions of bodily wounds, infection, angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, very soft!Law
wc. 1.5k
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the first thought that comes to mind when you wake up in the infirmary feeling super groggy and sore is: “fuck.” pulling aside the blanket draped over you reveals an impeccably clean, fresh bandage wrapped firmly around your torso where, the last you remember, underneath it lays a gunshot wound you hoped the others would never find out about
you can barely recall the lightheadedness and nausea you felt before you passed out. it turns out re-stitching and re-dressing your own infected wound is a lot harder than doing it for someone else, especially when you have to muffle your groans of pain during the process
you’d gotten the injury during a battle against enemy pirates and you’d decided that since the bullet made a clean exit, you needn’t bother your captain for medical assistance–especially since, at the time, he was busy helping the Straw Hat’s doctor with the more severely-wounded allies. having some experience doing first aid, you foolishly assumed you’d be able to handle it all on your own, that it was a small matter not worth adding to your captain’s already-overflowing plate
on top of the bedside table sits a jug and two plastic cups, one of which looked like it’s been used. there’re also numerous boxes of different medication and a handwritten note that says “do NOT leave this room until you’ve finished your entire course of medication” in Law’s familiar handwriting
knowing that he’s aware of your state–and most likely the person who treated you to begin with–eases your anxiety a little. at least now you don’t have to stress over hiding it from him and your other crewmates
what doesn’t help with your nerves is how for the following week you spend recovering, you don’t see Law at all. everyone else has taken turns coming in to spend time with you: Bepo takes naps with you, Shachi brings you comics to read together and Penguin sneaks you little snacks but not once has your captain shown up at all. your crewmates don’t seem too keen on talking about him when they’re with you, too, which only means one thing: he’s super pissed
you begin to worry and overthink as you near the end of your mandatory bedrest, dreading the inevitable moment Law finally shows up and you have to face the consequences of causing even more trouble for him than if you’d just asked for help right after the battle a week ago
it gets worse when you’re alone with no one to distract you from any intrusive thoughts. what if he thinks i don’t trust him to be my captain? what if this ruins his view of me as his crew member permanently? what if he kicks me out of the crew entirely?
you end up lamely falling asleep with tears staining your face and end up in such deep sleep that–like every night before–you don’t stir at all when Law enters the room and takes a seat by your bedside. he sighs deeply and rubs his face, eyes burning from sleep deprivation, as he leans back in the chair and readies himself for yet another whole night to watching over you and leaving right before the sun rises
Law notices your tears and feels a pang in his chest as he recalls a conversation he had earlier with Penguin; the latter had asked him to come see you while you’re awake since it’s obvious to everyone you’re worried he’s mad at you
“i’m just saying, Captain, it might be better to clear the air sooner or later,” Penguin said as he scratched the back of his neck. “(Y/N)’s been looking more miserable by the day.”
“good. she should be.” Law’s response comes out a lot colder than he wanted it to but Penguin knew him well enough to understand that. “what was she thinking hiding an injury like that? had she hidden it any longer or if Bepo hadn’t found her passed out in her room that day, a near-fatal fever would’ve kicked in at any moment!”
he stopped himself before he could get even more riled up, knowing it wasn’t Penguin’s fault so he shouldn’t be suffering the brunt of his captain’s fury.
as he sits in the darkness of the infirmary, the room only barely illuminated by the moonlight shining in through the open window, Law thinks about what he held back from saying aloud: how learning that you’d fallen unconscious with a badly infected wound made him question everything he thought he knew about his capabilities as a captain
he knows he doesn’t need to sit by your side every night–and deprive himself of much-needed sleep–but he’s deadly paranoid. just a week ago he’d ignorantly assumed his crew members were fine and directed all his attention to Luffy’s crew, only to find out days later you’d been walking around with a bullet hole through your body this entire time
what if i’m missing something else? he wonders, eyebrows furrowing as he rapidly blinks away the sleepiness in his eyes. what if her condition worsens if i leave?
giving in to temptation, he picks up your hand and holds it carefully, before idly running his thumb over your knuckles and the individual joints of your fingers. it’s something you do to him often, especially during the nights when he shows up to your room unannounced, silently pleading for company
you aren’t dating. not yet, at least. though it’s obvious to the two of you–as well as everyone else–that your relationship doesn’t quite fall under the category of ‘friends’, either. for a while now, you’ve been something in between for him; someone whose opinion of him he’s more sensitive about and whose company he yearns for any time you’re not within his sight. he knows you feel the same way, too, from how you spend all of your free time ‘bothering him’ endlessly to how willingly you let him crawl into bed beside you when he needs your warmth and companionship to keep away the nightmares
Law’s pulled out of his own thoughts when he catches a glimpse of the tears still clinging to your face, the moonlight having reflected off the wet surface in a way that caught his attention. without thinking, he reaches out to dry them only for your eyes to flutter open once his fingers make contact with your cheeks
“Law?” you croak and almost instantly he begins pouring a cup of water for you before bringing it to your lips. wordlessly, you drink as he tilts the cup gently, careful not to spill anything. there’s an odd pause between the both of you when he places the cup back on the bedside table and then turns back to looking at you without saying a thing.
he catches the way you fiddle anxiously with a corner of your blanket and a single word fumbles clumsily out of his mouth before he can stop himself.
“sorry.”
you look at him, confused. he swallows thickly.
“i’m sorry i haven’t come to see you. i heard from the others you think i’m mad at you.”
“are you, though?” you reply, biting your lip. “mad at me?”
Law sighs and rubs his face again. “no,” he answers honestly. “i’m mad at myself for not noticing sooner.”
“i’m so sorry,” you gasp suddenly before fresh tears begin pouring down your face. he panics internally and reaches out towards you almost as if to grab your shoulders but he pauses before any contact is made, his hands hovering over you. “i’m sorry i hid it from you and the others, i just didn’t want to cause you any trouble but i just ended up making things even worse.” you wipe frantically at your face, almost embarrassed to be crying about such a thing in front of your captain.
“no, no, (Y/N),” Law shushes, finally finding the courage to touch you, resting his large hands on your shoulders before squeezing gently in an attempt to ground you. “don’t cry. i forgive you, okay? just don’t hide such a thing again. it’s my duty to take care of you. it’ll never feel like trouble, no matter how busy i am.”
you nod as you sniffle and smile wobbly at him and the sight sends an arrow straight through his chest. his heart begins to race when you reach out as if asking for a hug.
“sleep with me tonight? and maybe tomorrow night, too?” you ask softly in such an innocent manner it knocks the wind right out of his lungs. not trusting himself to speak without fumbling like an idiot, Law simply responds with a smile and a nod before crawling into bed beside you.
the infirmary bed is much smaller than your personal one–seeing as it’s made for only one adult–but neither of you have an issue with the proximity forced upon you two due to the lack of space. if anything, you welcome it happily, humming with content when you feel him wrap his arms firmly around you, holding you pressed to his firm chest. Law buries his face in your hair as he feels you nuzzle into the junction of his neck while he falls into some much needed sleep.
the siren and the sun (portgas d. ace x reader) [pt5]
a/n: gong xi fa cai my fellow ace lovers, i have returned after more than 2 weeks of no new chapter, enjoy :D also this will contain my first attempt at something vaguely smutty and im trying my best so ahsjdhsahddgsjfhd
contents: fluff!! whitebeard pirates being a whole family :’D, some suggestive themes as i attempt to write smth seggsy
wc. 1.9k
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part 4
i.
the gentle rocking of the Moby Dick and the gentle streams of light filtering through your cabin blinds are what coax you awake the next morning.
blinking away the sleep in your eyes, it takes you a second to remember the events that occurred just hours ago when the sun had yet to rise and the moon stood high in its place. the memories are solidified as such–and not as mere dreams–when you feel a light stirring on top of your chest.
Ace mumbles something incoherent as he adjusts his head, still deep in slumber. his face rests on its side atop your chest as his firm arms lay on either side of your body with one hand interlocked with yours while the other stretches out and dangles over the edge of your bed. your free hand–the one not held clenched in his damp palm–is draped across his back, bent at the elbow just enough for the tips of your fingers to reach the base of his hair at the back of his neck. you drag your hand up further until his mildly sweaty, wavy hair is weaved in between your digits before you start scratching at his scalp gently.
he hums softly and shuffles a little but settles back into deep sleep with a faint smile stretching across his freckled face. taking a few quiet minutes to look at his peaceful self, a warmth swells up in your chest. you can’t quite remember the last time you’ve seen him so calm and relaxed, even as children he was always on-edge regardless of being awake or asleep.
a sudden light knocking snaps you out of your thoughts as your eyes dart over to the door of your cabin slowly swinging open just a crack.
“hey, (Y/N), you awake–” you recognise Marco’s voice before you see his face but once you do, you immediately catch how his eyes widen when he spots Ace sleeping on top of you. his mouth begins to form an ‘O’ shape but you cut him off before he can say anything embarrassing.
“leave!” your tongue tingles as you use your Devil Fruit ability, careful not to speak too loud in fear of waking the young man resting on your chest. as expected, your commander obeys without question and shuts your door but it doesn’t take long before you hear muffled shouts about how some people now owe him a lot of berry.
“guess we won’t have to break the news ourselves, huh?” Ace mutters as his eyes flutter awake. he grins when your eyes meet his and you can’t help but smile, too. “good morning, pretty,” he hums before inching forward to brush his lips against yours.
“g’morning,” you reply in the middle of the kiss as you feel your face heat up when it dawns on you that this really is happening. you are, in fact, in bed with your childhood love and he is, in fact, kissing you good morning.
you idly wonder if life could get any better than this and, for the following months, it does.
ii.
it doesn’t take long for you and Ace to become very comfortable as partners and the endless teasing from the division commanders and Pops himself doesn’t fluster you as much as you initially worried it would. it helps that aside from poking fun at the both of you, they wholeheartedly support your relationship and aren’t afraid to show it.
Marco was the one who suggested transferring you from the first division to the second–purely out of sheer coincidence–when it was announced that Ace would officially join that division.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’d said as he turned his head away to hide his teary eyes when you asked if he would miss you being his second-in-command.
“y’know i don’t have to change divisions just for Ace, right?” you teased while elbowing Marcoin the ribs in an attempt to get him to show you his face.
“well, we all know you want to,” he replied as he ruffled your hair, “and what kind of big brother would i be to stop you?”
Vista had been the one who taught Ace about the language of flowers which eventually led to you receiving a bouquet of one hundred and eight sunflowers. when you asked him what it meant, all he did was turn red, stutter incoherently before setting himself on fire.
“he’ll tell you whenever he’s ready!” was all Vista said with a hearty chuckle when you asked him for its meaning instead, knowing full well if you tried asking Ace again the entire ship might go down in flames.
Thatch was the one who prepared a twelve course meal just for the two of you after Ace offhandedly mentioned the anniversary of the day you first met Luffy and him was coming up soon.
“how’d you even remember that?” you’d asked incredulously, finding it hard sometimes to even recall the current day of the week, let remember a single date from so many years ago. in response, his face flushed red.
“i-i don’t know! i just do, okay?” he huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, his freckled cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red when you started to laugh.
on the mentioned day itself, you and Ace exited your cabin for dinner only to find the ship was entirely empty except for Thatch and Izou–with the latter promptly whisking you away the moment he spotted you leaving your room.
after half an hour of waiting in the dining room by himself, wearing a suit that was definitely not his, Ace felt his jaw drop when he saw you enter as Izou shut the door behind you. a light layer of makeup was painted on your face, the amount just enough to accentuate your features without overshadowing your natural beauty.
when Ace’s eyes trailed down from your face to your body, he realised then it was the first time he’d ever seen you wearing a dress and it was perhaps the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. although, if he were to be honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely sure if the clothing itself was beautiful or if it was because you had been the one wearing it.
that evening, for the first time in his life, Ace ate as slowly as possible, working his way through the different courses at a snail’s pace. the food was delicious but seeing your candle lit face smiling at him from across the table satiated a yearning deep in his heart.
later that night, after you’d long fallen asleep, Ace slipped out from your bed and found Thatch still up, prepping ingredients for the next day. to the older man’s surprise, Ace bowed deeply and thanked him for the meal and for putting a smile on your face that would be engraved into his memory for the rest of time. Thatch simply laughed and said it was no big deal, that he was happy to do it for the both of you.
Ace ended up staying up that night and you found him later in the morning, sleepily cutting vegetables in the kitchen by Thatch’s side.
iii.
over the months, you and Ace become a force to be reckoned with, making your mark on the seas in your sworn father’s name.
it doesn’t take long for the world to learn that the infamous super rookie Fire Fist Ace was now in Whitebeard’s second division and that wherever he showed up, one person would undoubtedly be by his side.
another Devil Fruit user, surely, the marine cadets would whisper amongst themselves as another charred ship docks at headquarters and out of it pours countless soldiers on stretchers. i hear it’s not Conqueror's Haki,” one would say to another, “it doesn’t matter how hard you try, as long as you hear the command, you can’t fight it.”
some would believe the rumours while others didn’t, steadfast in their belief that there’s no way the Command-Command Fruit still exists–not when the higher-ups insist it's been permanently destroyed. eventually, though, a handful of the sceptics would find themselves facing Fire Fist and his ally in the flesh and if they live to tell the tale, they’d return to their base and insist the Command-Command Fruit user truly is out there somewhere.
meanwhile, out on the open seas, you and Ace can’t care less about what the marines think of the two of you. all you care about are the little moments you share with him–like sitting in the front of his modified Striker as it speeds across the ocean while your hair catches the salty breeze; or the feeling of his soapy wet hair as you comb your fingers through it whenever you shower together, followed by the sound of his laugh after he shakes his hair dry just because he knows it annoys you.
your favourite moments with Ace are the quiet ones. the ones where you’re all alone and neither of you have anything to say but it doesn’t matter because the silence is so comfortable. you like when he lets his hands wander ever so carefully over your bare skin and underneath your clothes. his face always turns so red and yet he’ll stare into your eyes almost shamelessly, silently asking for permission to do more.
and then the quiet moments will turn not-so quiet as your soft huffs and moans fill the air while his fingers dance their way to places only meant for him to explore. sometimes you swear you can even hear the pounding of his Ace’s heart as he experiments with ways to elicit his favourite reactions from you–the ones where your breath hitches or your hips buck into his hand.
sometimes he’ll let you return the favour but more often than not he’ll insist he enjoys making you feel good more than anything.
on the nights he gives in to his desires, though, Ace makes noises almost unbecoming of a powerful young man like himself. he’ll hide his face behind his hands or bury it into your blankets, unable to bring himself to openly show his teary eyes and drooling lips until you gently coax him out of his embarrassment.
“it’s okay, pretty boy,” you’ll find yourself saying more often than not as you softly pry his large hands away from his flustered, sweaty face. “don’t hide from me, my love,” you’d coo and he’d choke back a moan, fighting the urge to cover his face again, baring it all for you and only you.
and after all is said and done, Ace will sneak food and drinks into your cabin even if you tell him you’re not hungry but you’ll eat and drink anyway because he stole them all for you. you’d thank him by peppering his freckled face in kisses and dragging him to the shower before he can succumb to his sleepiness. you’d clean each other while chatting under your breaths and laughing at each other’s jokes. then, you’ll go to sleep in each other’s arms and he’ll use your chest as his pillow just like he did the night before.
hours later, the sun will rise and you’ll wake up before Ace does, as you always do, and the day will continue just like it had done yesterday, feeling so similar yet so different at the same time.
the little life you’ve built around your family and Ace is good and you’ve never been happier.
but you soon learn that all good times must come to an inevitable end.
cw : royalty au, strangers to lovers, arranged/political engagement, reader is royalty, sabo is cold (but will warm up over time in other chapters) // wc : 3.851 words
Part 1
“What a happy day, isn't it? For our families to have settled on this union.”
“Yes mama,” you inclined your head towards your mother in an acquiescing manner — a tall astute woman known for her stern character hidden behind a kind smile. Seeing the faint smile blooming on your lips, one that had been forged through years of etiquette lessons, she turned her radiance towards the guests seated opposite the two of you. In turn you did as such, your eyes landing first and foremost on the man who had just been appointed as your fiance but not without stretching your lips further as decorum would have it.
Much in contrast to proper manners, your betrothed far from spared you the necessity of giving you a smile, rather keeping a pointed expression that soon found interest elsewhere from your profile. His aversion made it easier for you to scourge his features — named Sabo, blond haired, round eyed, an ailment on his left eye that was enough to incite scorn as scars were the same as losing one's standing in society. Even if the decoloration of his affliction far from bothered you, society wouldn't be as kind behind closed doors. Nevertheless, he sat looking attractive in his blue colored garments, leaving your heart to delay its flutter only once enough time would be given to get acquainted.
But for now, you had bigger worries for a forced engagement had been casted upon your shoulders, as the second child but first born daughter of your family. Your prospects were either to marry high nobility of your land or board a boat overseas. Following an unconventional past experience with the world beyond your borders it rendered you fearful of the unknown as someone thrown out of her element like a freshwater fish thrown into the ocean; you mused it wise to keep a higher authority, acquaintances and your family closer to your grasp in your homeland.
Love stories were a luxury of fiction, a sweet temptation to divert the mind and the heart from reality. A reality which sat before you in all its grandeur, as the chatter of your soon to be family in law echoed in your mind. Perhaps other members of society were accorded the pleasantry of seeking love matches. Even if you seeked the answer to this question, envied them for it, the reality remained that you were constricted to the coffins of your rank. Suffocating as it sometimes were, your gender additionned with your birth number made for a more breathable world. And now, as your bottom rested on a rather comfortable sofa, the invisible entrapment of a promised marriage came to suffocate your reality. In a rather swift and decisive way too, as just only a week ago the notion of marriage remained as a simple afterthought in your mind.
“I trust this union will make you see us as a part of your family. Of course we don't dream of ever replacing your parents, but that we will forge a similar bond over time dear,” the interpellation of the women sitting opposite you stirred you away from your musing.
Another polite smile. “Of course, Mrs. Didit,” you stared at the woman while hiding away the wretchedness she aroused in you through her pamperous and obscene behavior. Additionally, the father too, Outlook III, shared a common tinge of character as his wife, making the pair far from agreeable let alone likable. Despite their play at convincing your family, your heart far from agreed to entertain the false promises of accepting them as your kin.
“I believe it is time we let our children get acquainted with one another,” your mother raised aloud, stirring another round of stiff smiles and chuckles as last pleasantries were given.
With the emptying of the room, you finally felt like you had space to breathe — nevertheless you kept your posture, back straight and hands resting on your lap, as your position demanded it. You gave a quick glance at your bothered who had yet to say much on the occasion with the adults present. Under normal circumstances, it would be considered rude to not so much as partake in the conversation. Was it an attempt at silently rebelling the mariage? Or was he simply the shy type? In any case you could only hope he wasn't the tied tongued type.
“They all seem over the moon, as if they're marrying themselves,” you gave a stark chuckle to lighten up the atmosphere.
Sabo looked at you with a blank indecipherable expression. “Wish they would tone it down a bit but they'll probably be at it until the actual ceremony happens.” His voice was low, steady and devoid of any feelings.
A part of you rejoiced at his response — at least your days wouldn't be spent in total quietude. “And after that they'll fill our ears with talk of babies,” you added, hoping to bond on a shared enemy.
However your claims were met with an iron wall. “Are you opposed to this mariage?” Sabo asked, sending such an inquiring gaze to pierce through yours it took you aback.
“Should I be?” The bridge between your eyebrows furrowed itself.
“I always thought princesses like you dreamed of grand mariages and promises of love.”
The incredulous statement made you spill out an offended scoff. To hear an unfiltered opinion of the masses made you realize just how absurd your gilded world must sound to others outside the walls.
“Am I wrong?” Sabo pressed further, raising an eyebrow as he kept his unreadable composure.
“Well,” you began, shifting over your sitting cushion. “I did in fact dream of love and all its promises once upon a time ago.” You fiddled with your fingers, blinking as a diversion to avert your eyes.
“I feel there is a but coming, feel free to speak freely,” Sabo gave a respectably nod.
You thinned your lips, feeling guilty of pointing out an obvious reality. “We're strangers,” you curtly said. “Even with a flashing ceremony, what love is there to be found with someone I know less of than my own personal staff?” You explained.
Sabo hummed and nodded in approval. “Glad we agree on that. I wasn't planning on seeing this through either way.”
It was with utter unsettlement that you tilted your head to the side, bewildered at his announcement. “Excuse me?”
“I do not wish to marry you,” Sabo frankly repeated, keeping his uptight sitting position and fists clenched on his legs.
“Surely you will not do me the humiliation of not seeing this through?” Your voice took on a breathy note while your core started feeling the restraints of your corset.
“Someone of your rank will recover from this,” his sharp words seemed to cut past the layers of lessons and facades built into you.
Your breathing quickened. “Surely not after such an affront, I will be sent abroad!” You slowly shook your head, mostly for yourself than to make him realize your desperation.
“Oh what a bad thing,” Sabo sarcastically said, and at the spiteful glare you gave him he quickly added. “You will be fine, I'm sure.”
“No. I agreed to this marriage, to avoid such a fate. We must work this out, find a common ground, something, please!”
Sabo kept his walls, only allowing himself a slight disapproval shake of the head. “I'm afraid there is nothing for us to negotiate on.”
“Then what is your reason for refusing? Responsibility? You will have none for my brother is king. Being a Duke shouldn't be far off your alley,” you rather harshly spat, feeling the rumbling of an unsure future elevate the rhythm of your breathing.
“My circumstances are not for you to know,” Sabo dryly responded.
Your palms clenched into fists as a boiling down your stomach raged. Nevertheless your upbringing prevented you from spewing profanities at the man before you. “Then, if I may, how will you waltz your way through this engagement? Or am I not entitled to know?”
Sabo mustered your gaze for a few moments. “Well, as you are a part of this, you should be made aware that I intend to keep it up for appearance's sake and once…” he trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows not from anger but from discontent. “Once my affairs are in order, I shall disappear without pinning no blame on you whatsoever.”
“And how long will this charade last?” The polished nails from your fingertips clawed at your skin unconsciously.
“Say two to five weeks at most.”
You took in a deep breath, feeling the straightness of your back starting to burn in discomfort. “I thank you for your honesty. Had you been sincere from the start, we would have both greatly benefited from not having to be in one another's company for such a short time,” all traces of counterfeited courtesy left your face seeing as there was no need to keep up a facade with a deceitful stranger.
“I had no intention of proceeding with this engagement. Things went haywire which led to this unfortunately,” Sabo tried to plead but you paid him no mind, receiving it instead with a dry scoff.
On this note you stood up, feeling betrayed and reluctant to stare a second longer into his emotionless blank eyes. “Oh what a bad thing to happen,” you sarcastically spoke in turn, scarcely refusing to accord him a curtsey before your brisk heels stomped the carpet and carried you elsewhere.
----
Love never came easy to all. This you knew and were ready to make the necessary work towards achieving this desired necessity for a smooth mariage. But instead, you found yourself entrapped with a mixture of anxiety, fear and despise towards someone you were ready to move mountains for. Someone who had spoken their mind freely and truly, sparing you the hollows from darkness of the unknown by confiding in you rather than lie or keep secrets. Someone who had expressed their wishes, which you had, in retrospect, poorly reacted to. If your mind wasn't in such a frenzy as to what fate awaited you at the end of the month, you would instead be wallowing in self-deprecation for your poor display of understanding, let alone empathy.
You had no knowledge of the whereabouts of your mother, nor the guests she entertained for that matter, therefore your pace led you to a secluded place, bolting in a respectable way between the hard workers of the castle. Climbing a flight of stairs, hands treading up the hem of your skirts, you ignored all until you reached the royal infirmary.
There your body found comfort, basking in the sunlight that seeped through the open curtains, the transparency of the uniform white color that inhabited the room, leaping along in a similar way on the sheets from the single bed with rows of pharmaceutics surrounding it, the vague smell of antiseptics and the sight of the nurse. A kindhearted woman with purple hair, named Kobato and sporting glasses who had been accorded the privilege of nursing not only you but your family line as well, while the physician busied himself through other household summons.
“Are you ill, your highness?” The woman asked, scrambling to stand from her desk to bend in a curtsey, her eyes luring over your form.
In fact, through your rush in coming here your cheeks had shot red in color and your breathing had increased in a ragged mess since leaving the sitting room. The nurse's concern was well placed.
“I'm fine,” you breathed and went to lie on the bed. Its plush, silk texture soothed the exterior of your predicament as the nurse went to stand nearby.
“Would you like a glass of water?” She asked, taking notice of your breathless behavior.
You nodded. “That would be appreciated, yes.”
As she busied herself, you slumped further into the pillow, staring at the pristine ceiling that, unlike the many other rooms lacked in lavish decorations, which often than not prevented your eyes from feeling overwhelmed. Your mind followed suit, sinking in the news you received the day before that you were to be engaged, plus meet with his family the next day. How, despite having the knowledge that no pleas or arguing would help your case, you gritted your teeth and welcomed an obscene couple into your home, played at false pretenses during a brunch and finally as private time had been bestowed onto the pair like a reward, you faced the soon to be news that it would all fall apart.
“There you go miss,” the nurse handed you the glass. You propped yourself into a sitting position, eyes lingering in the past while you uttered a faint appreciation of her gesture before drinking.
Soon the glass was freed from your person and you laid back down, propping your hand on your core like a corpse as you felt your rapid rise of the chest quell down.
“Is royalty unlovable?” You asked the nurse, fully expecting a certain answer.
Her honeyed voice filtered through your ears like butter. “Of course not! It would be everyone's greatest honor to marry into the royal family,” she assured you.
A silence occurred in which you focused only on your breathing.
“Is this about your recent engagement?” Her tone carried uncertainty as she felt dubious whether her question was appropriate.
“I'm afraid I am not to marry,” you dryly said.
“What terrible news, how so?”
Your eyes maintained their focus on the white ceiling. “He has other obligations inquiring him to run away and which he does not wish to share with me.” Seeing as the nurse had returned to her desk, you failed to witness the compassionate gaze she bore. “What am I to do? I do not wish to leave everything I've ever known behind to marry another elsewhere,” you murmured in a low voice. Your heart clenched while your knuckles turned white. Such a display would grant you a lecture from your mother, but thankfully the nurse was one of the few discreet, tight lipped individuals of the palace.
“Your highness could accompany him into his business if she doesn't wish to end the engagement,” the nurse spoke after a moment of musing.
You bit your lower lip, feeling she had a point for as -if- the marriage would come to pass, both of you would be thrown out of your respective residence to start anew in a new one. “Is that my only option?” You asked. Begging your family to betroth you to another at this stage would not only be folly, but a complete affront they would never be compelled to face.
“Or you could give him a reason to stay. Convince him that the pros of your alliance far outweighs those of his obligation.”
You shifted over the bed covers, turning towards the nurse to glimpse at the truest smile one could find here. There were no traces of malice from her face or words of advice. The history that had settled over the years compelled you to trust in her words as you gave her a hopeful smile.
“Thank you, I'll try,” you sat up as she nodded. At the end of the day, you were also a member of the royal bloodline — if your brother and mother were too proud to marry you off to another member of society, then why let the man in question fly his wings elsewhere? Why, after knowing of his intentions, would you sit by and let it happen? What good would come off it but your own loss of face? Like many, you had your own pride too. Plus arranged marriages weren't uncommon, and God forbids you let it dissolve without a common ground of understanding.
It was with this resolution that you bid farewell to the nurse, thanking her for the advice and time she spared you and headed down the halls once more. You marched, once again sparing few notice at the constant buzzing of the staff amidst the castle, instead forging a rough plan following the guidance you had received.
After having a general idea to propose, you confidently turned the doorknob of the room you previously sat in only to be met with absolute desolation from the lack of living being. A pout rounded your lips — of course Sabo wouldn't have stayed alone in the same room for so long. You closed the door behind you, thinking of the places a guest might take interest in from the palace but resorted to asking the working personnel for any sightings of your fiance until you found the answer.
“Sabo, there you are,” you walked upon the grass and further into the garden; flowers of all kinds lounged the side, and lush wisteria trees descended like an accomplice to partly hide the height of your betrothed.
Hearing his name, he perked his head up in your direction, giving a look, again far from decipherable. “Are we to return to our parents?”
You shook your head, stopping once you had entered the coffins under the tree to stand before him. “Not at all.”
“Then what is it?” His tone was rather impatient, which didn't come as a surprise.
The scent of the flowers blooming into one aroma prevented you from losing your cool. “May I ask, are you refusing to marry because you love another? Will you wed someone else?”
“Far from that actually. Though you could say there are others whom I love outside of this life,” his reply sounded disinterested, almost as though he owed you that much for the sake of your inner peace.
Good. Then it meant there is place for negotiations. You ignored his innuendo, pressing further with your plan. “I'm aware you previously refused all forms of negotiations, but will you hear me out?”
“Anything for her highness,” he sarcastically said, his eyes visibly fighting an eye roll.
Once again, you brushed aside his rudeness. “You are, as I imagine, planning on leading a life outside of your noble status, correct?”
He nodded. “So?”
“Have you considered the cons such a life would provide? Think, if you, or those you briefly fondly spoke of, were to fall ill how will you pay for the medical bill? I may not know which part of town you wish to live in but how will you seek refuge if a plague were to break out? How will you eat if a famine occurs?”
It was enough to compel him to roll his eyes properly. “Discomfort is of no concern to me. If nobles weren't living such a life, maybe the issues you spoke of wouldn't be a problem.”
“Perhaps not, but the reality remains that it is. They exist, and you, who have been sheltered under the roof of said nobles, have made your body acclimated to such a life.”
“Which I refuse to lead any longer,” he darkly said.
“Then perhaps you could consider the benefits of a double life?” He raised an eyebrow which internally left you gleeful to have aroused his interest. “Look, political engagement like ours isn't only for couples to get to know one another while our respective parties benefit from it. We can also both get something out of it.” You took in a deep breath. “We marry, apart from your required presence at certain events, you lead a life free from the responsibilities of a Duke, which I shall assume instead while you maintain the financial security and aid the title provides.” Now that the cat was out of the bag, your heart raced in anticipation while awaiting his answer.
Sabo scoffed, baffled at your statement. “And how is it, your highness, that you can utter such words with confidence? Have you ever done paperwork?”
Your expression twisted, offended. “Do not assume my capabilities based on my title. I'll have you know that as the second in line, I received an education, perhaps not as precise as my brother, but nonetheless fit enough to rule the kingdom if his life was to slip away! Managing a mere dukedom is like child's play!” You reeled in his face, even if the hidden truth remained you sometimes indulged more in dilly dallying than work.
“Apologies,” and for once he spoke of sincerity, for the fire in your chest quelled at his words. “Say we proceed with your plan, what is there for you in this? Surely not love?”
You briefly exhaled through your nose. “Love?” You brushed aside the preposterous idea with the wave of your hand. “What love is there to be found while trying to make a common agreement? I desire nothing more than to avoid being sent abroad.”
To your relief, Sabo didn't pry further in your reasoning, inclining his interest elsewhere. “How will you be so sure no one will pry into our business?”
“We could consider moving to the countryside. None will take interest in a couple that moves so far away from the town and it's gossip.” Finally, you felt seen, as the look he casted on you wasn't so devoid of emotions but one with keen interest. “Furthermore, if you do not desire this path, I am willing to sacrifice my privilege to be your companion on your journey.” With hesitancy, you wrapped your fingers around his hands, at first delicately for it was the first time you physically interacted with a man outside of your family. “Our worlds collided today, but it doesn't mean we can't make the most of it.” Your fingertips that now found ease on the warmth of Sabo's hands gave a slight squeeze to emphasize your point.
Sabo's eyebrows furrowed. “No,” he abruptly pulled his hands away from your grasp, showing no remorse from the abrupt shock on your face. “You speak without knowing of my plans. It may all sound grand to you, but I do not wish to carry dead weight with me.”
“I am not dead weight!”
“But have you ever walked down commoner’s streets?” His eyebrows drew closer together and his voice had raised an inch, the reality of his location preventing him from properly shouting.
Ashamed to answer aloud, you bit your lower lip while averting your gaze.
“There is no telling whether the life I want for myself will be suitable for you. I can't let you accompany me.” He firmly said.
His tone was final, however you longed to plead your case further. Therefore you parted your lips, but before the sound of your resistance came forth, the voice of your mother came to interrupt instead.
“Ah, finally. We were beginning to wonder where you both had wandered off to.” Yet you spared none of your attention towards her voice, keeping instead a disappointed but hopeful look on Sabo.
Feeling more hurt than you'd like to admit, you watched as Sabo walked past you, his ignoring the following of your gaze along himself to rejoin the group of adults. It was also with reluctance that you stiffened your features, squared your shoulders with a straight back and followed in his tracks.
summary: Trafalgar Law’s sudden discovery of your past ties to Straw Hat Luffy and Fire Fist Ace leaves his emotions in shambles
a/n: it’s my first time writing for Law and i’m a bit nervous but imma try my best!! i’m basing my interpretation of his personality on his appearance so far in punk hazard + some fics i’ve read of him before ;;0;; i’ve been struggling with this for like almost 3 days now so imma split this into 2 parts and hope the second part isn’t as tough to write :’D
contents: set during Sabaody Archipelago arc w/ spoilers (?) from Luffy’s childhood, Luffy’s older sister!reader, Law has to deal with his feelings and is a Mess, Ace is causing trouble without even being physically present, jealousy, insecurity, angst
wc. 1.5k
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part 2
i.
as Trafalgar Law watches the infamous Straw Hat captain sucker punch a Celestial Dragon, the very last thing he expects to hear is you shouting the boy’s name.
“Luffy?!” you nearly scream, jumping out of your seat beside your captain. all of the eyes that were initially glued to the ruckus now turn to you, including that of Monkey D. Luffy; and it isn’t lost on Law how the furious scowl on the younger man’s face almost instantly morphs into a giant smile.
“(Y/N)!” Luffy yells in return as he waves his arms around wildly. “i can’t believe you’re here! you made it, too!!”
Law is vaguely aware of Shachi and Penguin whispering animatedly to each other behind him but he can’t really be bothered to listen to them right now, not when you so recklessly leap into action once the fighting begins.
he and Bepo watch silently as you strike guard after guard with your signature weapon–a long metal pipe–while you move in tandem with Straw Hat Luffy. it’s almost seamless, the way he and you work around each other’s moves, as if the other’s fighting pattern is almost engraved into your very muscles.
“woah, what the hell?” Shachi comments aloud. “i never knew (Y/N) was friends with Straw Hat. did you, captain?” Law only manages a loose shake of his head, a million thoughts running through his mind as he continues to observe how different you seem as you fight beside Luffy.
in all the years Law has known you, you’ve always struck him as a level-headed fighter and an overall extremely calm and collected person–it’s one of the many reasons he fell for you to begin with. and yet here you are, having leapt into action seemingly without a second thought, all for a boy Law didn’t even know you were associated with until right now.
“you guys don’t think she hid this from us on purpose, right?” Penguin suggests in a tone tinged with slight embarrassment, as though uncomfortable at the idea of even thinking you’d been wilfully hiding something from everyone.
“no… she must’ve had a reason…” Bepo replies, idly hugging Law’s sword as his eyes continue to trace your movements at the front of the auction house. he winces when you land a particularly harsh blow against one of the Celestial Dragon’s guards.
as the conversation awkwardly dies out, Law can’t help but feel the eyes of his crewmates looking his way almost expectedly. he doesn’t blame them, after all, it’s no secret you’ve been dating for quite a while now. if anyone was to be the most shocked at this discovery, it’d have to be him.
“and here i was thinking you were never gonna wake up,” an unfamiliar voice spoke as Law’s eyes fluttered open. head spinning, he groaned and tried to rub his face with his hands, only to wince when a sharp pain bloomed over his palms. “your hands got burned a bit. i don’t think they’ll scar but you shouldn’t try to move them so much for now.”
“who are you?” he croaked as he blinked away the blurriness in his vision and was greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar room. “where am i?”
“i’m (Y/N) and i don’t know where we are,” you replied simply. “all i know is that you almost died and i saved your life.”
“why?”
“do i need a reason?”
the sudden sound of a gunshot tears across the auditorium and is followed by a cacophony of gasps as all eyes turn to the stage where just mere seconds ago, one of the Celestial Dragons stood with a gun pointed at a mermaid.
Law feels his heart sink when he realises what you’ve done.
standing on wobbly knees, you let your pipe fall to the ground with a loud clang. before you lies the unconscious body of a lady Celestial Dragon with her gun now sitting a few metres away from her unmoving hand.
you’d moved without thinking after seeing the way Luffy and his crewmates shouted when the mermaid’s life was put in danger. the dots connected in your head and it gave you all the reason you needed to risk it all for his friend.
he is, after all, your beloved baby brother.
“(Y/N)!” two distinct voices cry your name at the same time as blood begins to pour out of your stomach, the warm red liquid seeping through your fingers as you clutch your wound in vain. out of the corner of your eye, you can see Luffy sprinting towards you but out of instinct, you scan the scattering crowd in search of your captain.
the moment your eyes meet, you’re shambled into his arms.
“what’s the matter with you?!” Law hisses under his breath before he lays you down carefully on the ground. “you’re never this reckless. why’d you–”
“hey! you!” Luffy barks, pointing a finger in your partner’s direction. in true Luffy-fashion, he completely ignores the countless guards and marines as they continue to charge towards him, only to get beaten down by his crewmates before they can even get close. “give me my big sister back!”
“SISTER?!” exclaims a chorus of voices, a combination of his crew and your own.
you can only manage a sheepish smile when Law glances down at you with a flabbergasted look on his face.
ii.
“you should join my crew.” he’d spoken so casually, as though such a proposition wasn’t potentially life-changing for a lone wolf like yourself.
after you managed to find his crew mates and lead them back to your temporary hideout, you’d been invited onto their submarine with the offer to drop you off anywhere you’d like. unable to think of any place in particular, you decided to stick around for a bit and before you knew it almost six months had passed by.
“i mean, you’ve stuck around this long,” Law continued after realising you weren’t going to respond any time soon, “you must trust us to some capacity, right?”
he’d hit the bullseye without even trying.
you liked the Heart Pirates, you really did, but your journey from the very day you departed from your home island was wrought with hurt and betrayal. after countless encounters with scummy captains and their shitty crews, you swore you’d go solo until you could find one of your brothers again. it didn’t matter which: Ace, Sabo or Luffy.
they were the only ones you could trust, after all.
the commotion dies down after a strong wave of Haki washes over the room, followed by the thuds of countless unconscious bodies unceremoniously hitting the ground. everyone turns their attention to the culprit–everyone except you and the man currently patching you up.
kneeling over you, Law silently sanitises and bandages your gunshot wound after ensuring there wasn’t any fragments left in your flesh. he’d been deadly quiet after Luffy announced to the world his ties to you as your brother and you aren’t entirely sure if this is the regular Law kind of quiet or the bad kind of quiet. something in you heart says it’s the latter and yet your boyfriend tends to your wounds so tenderly, as if he isn’t upset in the slightest.
once he’s done, he even helps you to your feet slowly and carefully, though still not saying a single word.
after a while of watching the Straw Hats speak to an old man who showed up out of nowhere, Luffy comes running your way. it isn’t lost on you how Law’s shoulders tense up in response as he inches closer towards you until the back of his hands brushes against yours.
“(Y/N)!” he laughs before throwing himself against you and pulling you into a tight hug. although it really hurts your wound, you can’t help but smile as he nuzzles his cheek affectionately against yours. “i’ve missed you so much! i can’t believe you’re here of all places! did you see my wanted poster? i have a super awesome crew now, you should meet them–”
Law observes as the Straw Hat captain yaps endlessly whilst you gaze down at him with a softness in your eyes your boyfriend foolishly thought had always been reserved solely for him.
“oh! and i met Ace in Alabasta and he told me to give this to you if i ever see you,” Luffy says as he rummages through his pockets before pulling out a ring strung on a chain. “Ace also told me to tell you that he misses you lots and hopes to see you again soon!”
Ace? surely it’s not Fire Fist Ace? what connection do you have with him, of all people? what else have you been keeping from me?
though, now that he thinks about it, Law never would’ve expected you to be siblings with Straw Hat Luffy, who’s to say you aren’t associated with other infamous pirates? since the day you agreed to be his girlfriend, he’d been under the impression he knows who you are, as you do with him, but now he’s not so sure anymore.
synopsis: being in love with zoro is not for the weak, especially when such a love is unrequited. so it is all the more confusing when a certain pirate refuses to let you go when you decide to give your heart a break and leave the crew for good.
note: i really need to stop writing zoro fics with an arranged marriage and bodyguard/protector type premise. with that being said… enjoy xoxo
(also yes this is part ONE. here is the link to PART TWO)
+ + + + + + + + + + + +
Thunderstorms are the perfect weather conditions for silent rumination. You isolate yourself in a corner of the ship, eyes closed as rainwater glides down your face in cool streams. With a smile, you breathe in the scent of salt and earth that mingles with the southern winds.
The crew is below deck, sheltered from the downpour and crackling lightning that splits the skies every so often. They’re all asleep and have been for a while now. You are the outlier. The strange one that decided to sit between a storm and the sea during the devil’s hours. Funnels of black clouds swirl angrily above you as it continues to pour. Your clothes, hair, everything is drenched. Soaked down to the very bones—some particularly weary ones.
You relish the feeling of the water against your skin for another moment, reviving yourself from the bleak reflections plaguing your mind. By the time you make it inside, a decision was made.
The next morning, faint sunlight filtered by sparse clouds light up the horizon in hues of soft orange and calm yellow. The water is still. Steady. Almost as if it had forgotten its role as a tempest’s plaything mere hours ago. It’s early. Much too early for most of the crew to be awake, but you can hear a faint tinkering from Usopp’s room and the steady footsteps of another member coming up the stairs to the upper deck.
A familiar silhouette appears in your vision.
“Morning, Robin,” you say.
The archaeologist comes to stand next to you and nods. “Good morning. You’re up early.”
“Had a lot on my mind. Doesn’t leave much room for sleep,” you point out.
“Did you get any?”
“Some.”
She raises a brow, unconvinced.
“About an hour's worth,” you shrug.
An arm sprouts up from the railing you’re leaning on. It holds out a mug of steaming coffee. You take the cup gratefully. The smooth liquid warms you up in the crisp autumn air. Robin takes a sip of her own drink before responding.
“What’s the verdict?” She asks.
“I’ve decided to go.”
She sighs. “That’s it then. I understand there’s no point in trying to change your mind?”
You shake your head sadly. The past few weeks of turmoil and trepidation cemented that certainty. You can’t stay. Not when the fate of a nation falls on your shoulders… and certainly not with feelings as forbidden as the ones you harbour.
“Is it because of him?”
“No. No,” you emphasize at Robin's doubtful expression.
“Don’t lie,” she chides.
You grimace. “Well, not entirely because of him.”
Robin scans the calm horizon with watchful eyes, a storm of thoughts whirling into action behind that piercing gaze of hers. The archaeologist has always been the most logical out of the crew, favouring rationality over emotion. It is the trait you admire most about Robin and the reason why you sought her counsel specifically, choosing to confide in her—and only her—about the decision you faced.
“He deserves to know,” she says softly.
You stiffen, the mere thought making your throat tighten up with anxiety. You shake your head, effectively ending the conversation. At the perfect time too, as one by one the rest of the crew pad up the stairs, ready to start the day.
Luffy first, bounding up the steps with a large grin. Nami follows, then everyone trickles through the doors. Zoro is last.
The swordsman yawns and stretches his arms behind his head, taut muscles glistening under the morning sun. He opens one eye, peeking at you from under sleepy lids. Your heart clenches at the lazy smile he greets you with.
This is going to be difficult.
“Mornin’,” Zoro mumbles, stifling another yawn behind his fist.
The rest of the crew bustles about, running around the deck in preparation for the day ahead. You hear Luffy’s excited laugh somewhere in the background followed by familiar shouts of concern and beratement from Nami, Sanji and Usopp, each taking turns to scold the captain’s latest—and no doubt foolish—idea. Whatever it may be.
The noise and chaos fades away the moment Zoro walks up to you, his warmth surrounding you despite the cold morning temperature. It makes it near impossible for you to focus on much else. Anything else.
“Hey,” you say.
He frowns, eyes scanning your face. You resist the urge to touch it, anxious. Was there something on your face? A pimple? An eyelash?
“What? What is it?” You ask, nerves alight.
“Did you stay up late?”
You blink, caught off guard. Did you really look that tired?
“Yes,” you answer plainly. There’s no point in trying to hide it from him. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Zoro arches a brow. “Why not?” Concern laces the question. You almost crumble, seconds away from confessing the truth you’ve been hiding for weeks, when someone barrels into Zoro, knocking him over and effectively ending your conversation.
Luffy, unfazed, pops up onto his feet and dusts himself off, his signature toothy smile never having left his face. Despite his right-hand man groaning on the ground next to him, Luffy seems as chipper as ever.
“Sorry, Zoro!” He apologizes, not sounding very sorry at all.
“I… hate… you…” Zoro grunts, still recovering from having the wind knocked out of him.
Luffy only laughs it off and runs back to the rest of the crew, chattering about some new adventure that is bound to be more effort than it is worth.
“You okay?” You press your lips together in an attempt to stifle a laugh.
Zoro takes the hand you offer, warm palm wrapping around your own. You can feel rough calluses against your skin—a testament to his training. You pull him up and watch him steady himself. He doesn’t let go of your hand. Nervous, you break contact first.
He shoots you a puzzled look, but decides against commenting on it.
“I will be once I knock him upside the head.”
“Let’s not give the poor boy brain damage.”
Zoro snorts. “You mean more than he already has?”
You laugh, the sound almost entirely concealed by a burst of raucous shouts coming from the other side of the deck. Curious, you begin walking over to the crew. Zoro follows suit with his hands in his pockets. As the two of you make your way across the ship’s expanse, the sight of Nami and Luffy arguing comes into view. The others stand off to the side, exasperation and amusement colouring their expressions.
“It’s too risky!”
“It’ll be fine, why are you being so boring?”
“I am trying to keep us from getting killed,” Nami seethes. Her face is set in a tight scowl that twists her features into something alarmingly frightening. You haven’t seen her this angry in quite some time.
“Not if we’re careful,” Luffy defends. The captain looks bored and irritated at the same time.
Nami’s right eye twitches.
Oh dear.
“And since when are you careful?”
“I’m not. But [name] is.” Your captain jerks a thumb in your direction.
All heads swivel to look at you.
You raise your palms up, placating. “I… just got here.”
Nami runs up to you, eyes pleading. The ginger-haired woman grabs your shoulders and gently shakes you.
“Please knock some sense into him!”
You tilt your head and lean to the left in order to peek at Luffy from behind Nami’s frame. The boy scratches the back of his head with a toothy grin.
“Would you care to explain, Captain?” You ask bemusedly.
Luffy’s eyes dance with mischief. “We’ve got a mission!”
It’s Zoro that steps in this time. “Just the two of you?”
“Well, yeah,” Luffy answers plainly.
You gently pry Nami’s hands off. “Why?”
“You’re the only one who knows the layout of the place,” he explains.
You frown. “What place?”
“Aracorn Palace,” Robin interjects. There’s a small smile on her face as she watches the situation unfold. Always assessing. Always dissecting.
Aracorn… such a familiar name. It takes a second before a sliver of memory tickles the edges of your mind. An image forms; one of a mighty castle built from silver and stone erected in the heart of a powerful city.
You used to travel there for important delegations and social banquets. Luffy is right. You do know the area well.
“We’re going there? What for?”
“And why only the two of you?” Zoro questions.
“To be stealthy,” Luffy grins.
“Right. Stealthy. You.” Zoro stares, unconvinced.
Luffy ignores his second-in-command. “We’re going to go rescue someone. He’s being kept in the dungeons.”
So many questions.
“Who is it?”
Robin, again, speaks up. “His name is not important. He may not even own such a thing. His role as an ex-member of an underground information guild named Kleios is what makes him useful to us. An execution date has been set for tomorrow evening, so if we are to save the man, we must do it soon.”
“Well? What do you say?” Luffy's enthusiasm is palpable.
The rest of the crew watches you, assuming that you would wave it off. The danger is obvious, and you are—among most instances—level headed enough to pull the plug when needed.
One last adventure.
You surprise them.
“I’m in.”
✧ ˚ · .
You should have known it wouldn’t be easy. In fact, you should have known that the entire plan would fall apart because of course it did. Nothing ever seems to go right for the crew. Right now you curse such rotten luck. Although… it isn’t even luck, not really. It’s the captain… Zoro… Nami… Sanji… the whole lot of them! No matter how organized—how meticulous—a plan was, it never actually fucking went to plan. You suppose you’ll miss it. That unmanned chaos. You suppose you’ll miss all of it. As for who you’ll miss most…
“Zoro!” You stare up at the swordsman in both relief and horror. He dangles from a rope ladder, cascaded off the side of a strange looking vehicle—one with wings and whirring motors that suspend its large metal body in the open air. Usopp sits in the pilot seat manning the impressive contraption. Sweat beads on his forehead from concentration. The others are likely protecting the ship from the nation’s naval cavalry.
You increase your pace despite the burning sensation in your lungs. Hot on your heels is a stretch of armed guards mixed with strange looking creatures that look to be a gruesome mismatch of different animals—both natural and mythological.
Chimeras.
Luffy, for once, listened and fled alongside you when shit hit the fan—albeit with extreme reluctance. The captain was able to deal with the first rush of soldiers and their Chimera, but the monster was vicious and even Luffy struggled. That was a mere one. The royal guard owned five. And all of them, snapping their fanged teeth and snarling in hunger, are quickly closing the distance between themselves and you—their prey.
The prisoner was long dead. The whole thing was a trap designed to ensnare the Straw Hats, and Luffy and you had walked straight into it. By the time you both realized you had been played, the cavalry had already surrounded you. Thankfully, Luffy was the master of creative escapes. He was not, however, a master of subtle ones. What was originally one guard unit and its accompanying Chimera quickly turned into all of them chasing after you in a vicious frenzy.
“Don’t engage! We’ll come to you!” You shout towards Zoro, urging him to stay aboard. You can see a sort of panic in his eyes, mottled by excitement. He’s itching to fight. But doing so would be his biggest mistake yet and likely his last as well if he does not heed your words.
The murderous soldiers are practically breathing down your necks, and even with Luffy trying to fend off as many as possible, you will quickly be overwhelmed by the strength of the Chimeras. The monsters growl and roar as their heavy steps thunder behind you, bloodlust practically soaking them through. If Zoro abandoned the ladder and tried to fight them off… it would be sheer suicide. You won’t let that happen.
Luffy manages to stretch out and grab hold of Zoro in the near distance. With a yell, he swings himself up and grabs you along the way. You yelp, the sudden movement catching you off guard. You shut your eyes as the wind whips you in the face. With a soft thud you land against a warm mass.
Zoro catches you, arms encircling your waist.
“Are you okay?” He murmurs into your ear.
You sag into him from relief. “Yes. Is Luffy…?”
“He’s completely fine,” Zoro smirks.
Luffy, who is sprawled across the floor, gives you two thumbs up in reassurance. You can’t help but laugh.
“Usopp! Take us away.”
The pilot gives you a smile and a salute before he presses a button and pulls the wheel up. Slowly, you feel the contraption tilt upwards. Smooth and steady.
CRASH!
Out of nowhere, you and the rest of the crew are violently thrown to the left as something punctures the metal wall of the vehicle and jerks the entire thing back. Before you go slamming into the wall, Zoro twists himself around and cushions the blow.
“What the hell?” Zoro’s grip on you tightens protectively.
A strange red pincer curls into the crumpled sheet that—just a moment ago—was the side hull. It looks to be the same sort of armour that is found upon the back of a crab, except it bears a darker color. Not unlike a deep pool of blood. Its shape is almost identical to that of a scorpion's tail but riddled with sharp ridges that cover its surface. The thing is the size of your head—a grotesque limb extended from one of the Chimeras, no doubt.
Zoro and Luffy both immediately jump into action, the former slicing at the pincer while Luffy tries brute force. Neither works. Solid and unbending, the pincer trembles then stills. The next second you are staring into the howling winds and open space. The army roars beneath you, fifty feet below. The ugly beast with the scorpion tail isn’t finished. It narrows its beady eyes and with astonishing speed, it whips its tail upwards, spearing the floor.
Usopp does his best to recenter, managing to keep everyone upright and away from the gaping hole left by the ripped wall.
“Shit,” Zoro hisses. “The damn thing is too tough. I can’t cut through.”
“I can’t rip it out!” Luffy frowns, throwing punch after fruitless punch at the immovable pincer.
Panic threatens to overwhelm you.
Shit, shit, shit. Shit!
Something glints in the corner of your vision. A solution strikes you and you scramble towards a device on the floor.
“The laser cutter! I can–” but your voice is lost to the bellowing winds as the monster yanks its tail once more, causing the entire machine to shake. You fumble with the device and clumsily clasp it in your trembling hands. Vertigo strikes you as you look down for a split second.
The ground is nearing at an alarming rate.
It’s too close. Too—
Zoro jumps.
“NO!” You reach out in an attempt to pull him back but you're too late. The fabric of his shirt slips out of your grasp and Zoro goes tumbling down—straight into the unhinged maw of the monster below.
You aren’t sure if the screams piercing the air are your own or if they belong to the dying men below. With fluid ease, Zoro manages to sidestep the beast. He dives into the mass, slashing through their ranks. It is beyond impressive.
But it is not enough.
The Chimeras have zoned in, their attention drawn to Zoro. Snarling and snapping, they circle their prey.
Its suicide.
“No…”
Luffy steps forward, ready to leap into the chaos, when familiar shouts sound from below.
The rest of the crew are here.
You collapse in relief, adrenaline draining from your body.
He’s okay.
✧ ˚ · .
“This is such a stupid fight,” you sigh.
“This isn’t a fight,” Zoro frowns, unnerved by the very idea of arguing with you.
Sanji pipes up. “It sounds like a fight.”
Nami pinches him by the ear and drags the chef out of the kitchen, scolding him as he protests and apologizes.
“But Nami! They’re in my workspace!”
You and Zoro both ignore him, too preoccupied with the argument at hand.
“I saved your life. His too. If anything, you should be thanking me.”
You scoff in disbelief. “I’m not going to thank you for your recklessness.”
“And I won’t apologize for it,” Zoro says firmly.
“You’re going to get yourself killed one day! I refuse to stick around and watch it happen.”
He freezes as he catches onto the underlying meaning behind your words. “What do you mean by that?”
“I…” you hesitate, unprepared for this conversation. You didn’t mean to let news of your departure slip out. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You’re both too agitated. Too riled up.
“What do you mean by that?” He echoes. His voice is low and careful, tip toeing on the edge between urgency and trepidation.
You want to turn around. Walk away. Lie.
But this is Zoro. A man you entrust with your life and, occasionally, your heart as well. Secrets don’t belong in your relationship—as muddled as it is—and they will only consume what trust you have forged through the years.
It is time to bear the truth in front of the most terrifying witness.
With a rough swallow, you tell him everything. Your plan to leave the crew, to retain your birthright, and to finally settle your country’s score, once and for all, by bringing peace through union. A marriage between royal heirs. You and a foreign prince.
You can’t look at him as the secret you’ve been harbouring finally spills over your lips like oil. If you look at him, you’ll cry.
“…I leave in two weeks,” you finish. You’re still staring at the ground, heart racing a mile a minute.
There’s no answer. Silence stretches on for a while, so quiet a person’s breath could be mistaken for thunder. So cloying, it stains your lungs. Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You snap your head up, ready to demand a reply from the swordsman, but the look on Zoro’s face wipes anything you have to say from memory.
Shock, anger, disappointment, sadness. Those are all too shallow of description for the depth of what he is feeling. The best he settles on is desperation. An intensely unpleasant anxiety that borders on panic. That is what currently thrums in his veins.
You’re leaving…?
“You won’t change my mind Zoro.”
He doesn’t answer.
“Nothing will,” you add softly.
Especially not him.
This is your goal—your dream. He can’t take that away from you no matter how much he resents it. He simply can’t. But he can be angry, can’t he? He deserves that anger. Needs it to keep him sane. But before he can articulate it, you speak up again, turning the subject back to the argument before.
“The point is you’re too rash.”
He’s barely listening. “It’s my job.”
“No,” you reply firmly. “No it’s not. You put that title on yourself—placed that burden on your own shoulders, never asking for a hand. Not even when so many would offer.”
“I don’t need help. I protect my friends. That’s what I do,” he grits out.
“Even at your own expense?”
“Yes.”
You scoff in disbelief. “It's idiotic.”
“It’s my duty.”
“So you say!” You throw your hands up, exasperated and frustrated. “But that’s not all it is, is it? You fear losing that part of yourself—the protector, the bodyguard, the shield—because you would lose yourself in the process. Your entire life—your purpose—does not revolve around meaningless self-sacrifice and protecting us from a world we choose to exist in!”
He scoffs in sheer disbelief. “And you? What exactly is your role? Don’t you dare stand there and attempt to psychoanalyze me when you’re just a damn coward!”
You suck in a sharp breath, his words striking deep. “I am not a coward.”
“Then why the hell are you running away?!”
“Running? Running?!”
He nods, jaw clenched. He avoids looking straight at you—at the hurt in your eyes. “Yes. The only thing you know how to do.”
Anger replaces hurt. “You fucking hypocrite,” you spat out.
He shakes his head. “I’m just calling it like I see it.”
“You are nothing without your so-called duty,” you hiss. “So you do not get to judge mine.”
“Is that why you abandoned it in the first place? I wonder where this valiant change of heart came from.”
“You could never understand.”
He drops his gaze to the floor and takes a heavy step back. Zoro can barely look at you. “You’re right. I could never understand turning my back on people who needed me.”
Those are the last words he says to you. The next morning, you are gone. All of your things and belongings cleared from your room—like you had never existed on the ship in the first place.
i haven’t actually posted much on tiktok recently but i Am a little sad that there’s really no other social media where i can comfortably post about being trans in the way that i want to. there’s really nothing like it.
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