You didn’t think anything was wrong when you stirred awake. It took you surprisingly long to even bother opening your eyes, mentally grumbling as you tried to figure out what had woken you. A flicker of light caught your attention. The warm, cloying air registered in your brain slowly. It was too warm.
Swelteringly so.
Ace was still sleeping beside you, flames rolling over his body angrily. They caught against the edges of the blankets, sending curling smoke into the sky and you pulled them off before they truly took.
You reached for him immediately, your hand landing briefly on his shoulder until heat drove you back.
“Ace.”
Your voice struggled to carry over the crackling of the flames and you shifted forward, trying to make out his features. He didn’t look like he was having a bad dream. If anything, he was lying eerily still; the flames moved around him almost as if they were alive in their own right.
“Ace.” Louder now.
He didn’t even twitch. You moved to your knees, trying to look for a place where you could touch him.
Any spaces on his skin were brief so you bit your lip hard and bore the heat to grab his shoulder, shaking him as best you could. The flames crept higher and hotter and you snatched your hand back before you could burn.
Panic rolled through you; not from the fire but from his stillness. Something was definitely wrong.
You said his name louder than before, grabbing the blanket to try and smother some of the fire on his face. You tapped his cheek briefly and startled when you found the skin ice cold. So cold it made you jolt back quicker than the fire ever would have. When had he ever been that freezing before?
He was heavy when you tried to push him, body surprisingly unyielding.
“Ace, please.”
Was this because he’d been around for so long?
You’d never kept a spirit around for this long before. You scrambled in your brain for what little knowledge you had about it. There were warnings in your journals but they were about your own safety. Nobody ever mentioned that the soul might fade. Fear clawed through your throat as the flames licked at the pillow under his head.
You couldn’t do this. You refused to lose him now. Not when you were getting so close to the ritual that could finally fix it.
You grabbed his shoulders, desperately, fingers digging in despite the heat, and his eyes snapped open.
The fire extinguished so quickly that the room dropped into darkness before your fear had anywhere to go. Smoke drifted in the space where the flames had been, thin and bitter against your tongue. Beneath your palms, his skin warmed slowly, like heat returning to water left too long in the cold.
Then, Ace moved, sitting up, his arms slipping from your hold as he summoned a small flame to his hand; his face illuminated in dancing gold.
“Hey, what’s – ”
You surged into him without warning, threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck as relief rushed over you. He huffed in surprise for a second, awkwardly looping his free arm around you as the flame in his hand flickered. The arm around you was soothingly warm enough to exhaust the terror from your veins.
For a second, there was absolute quiet as you held your breath, feeling him move beneath your cheek.
Then something hissed against his skin. You startled, reaching up to roughly scrub tears from your eyes. They streaked down your cheeks without your consent, hot and heavy.
“What’s wrong?” Ace’s voice was no longer exhausted; one hand coming up to brush tears away from your wet eyelashes. “Hey, are you okay?”
“It’s kind of silly,” you admitted, your voice sore around your sobbing. “I don’t even know why I’m so scared. It’s just… your flames were out and I couldn’t get you to wake up.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding confused and slightly flattered. “Sorry. I’m a deep sleeper.”
You nodded faintly, trying to calm the rapid fluttering of your heart. He was a deep sleeper. That made sense. Though a small, traitorous part of your brain whispered that you’d never seen him sleep like that before. He always woke up the moment you called for him, even when he was passed out face down.
You were probably imagining it but his eyes looked a little dull in the poor lighting, their brown faintly tinted by grey.
You shook your head before you started worrying more. He was fine.
“I know,” you said finally. “Think I had a bad dream or something before I woke up… why are you smiling like that?”
Ace fought to get rid of the smile, failing before he sighed softly. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I’m trying to comfort you but also, it’s kind of nice to hear.”
“What?” you asked.
“You were this upset just because I was asleep,” he said. “It’s kind of sweet.”
You huffed and sat back, lightly flicking his arm. “I was upset because you weren’t waking up. That’s normal.”
“Yeah but it’s still good to know.”
You laughed softly at the ridiculousness of it. Really. How did he think somebody would react when the person they’d… Your brain paused. When the person you’d fall in love with didn’t wake up?
The realisation of the word sat tight under your ribs and you straightened slightly. The acknowledgement felt comfortable. You found yourself looking at his grin and no other word suited him better.
“Oh,” you said softly.
“Oh?” he repeated.
You shook your head and smiled at him. “You’re kind of ridiculous sometimes,” you said. “I don’t know why you need more proof that I’d be devastated if something happened to you.”
“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked. “I’m already dead.”
You rolled your eyes and lightly pushed at his shoulder. “Hush.”
He let you push him, falling back onto the bed with a proud smile. Then he opened his arms and patted his chest curiously. “Come on,” he said. “If you sleep on my chest, you’ll know I’m okay. I promise I won’t set you on fire.”
“You can’t promise that.”
But you lay down regardless, head resting on him. You closed your eyes, fully expecting to hear the thump of his heart for a second before realisation caught up to you. It was exactly as he’d said. There was no reassuring beat to listen to. No satisfying rhythm to hear.
You pressed your ear a little harder against him anyway, as though wanting badly enough might invent one.
His arm wrapped around you before you could get too sad, his hand resting atop your hip reassuringly.
“Sorry for scaring you,” he said quietly after the room fell into silence.
You smiled and shifted closer. “Don’t be. It’s not something you can control.”
You managed to get some sleep that night and Ace woke normally the next morning – something that only twisted the knife in your chest about how unresponsive he’d been. You watched him detangle himself, carefully looking for anything unusual amongst his normal movements and finding nothing.
He tilted his head back to look at you. “You’re staring.”
“Admiring,” you said because it was half-true.
Without the injuries on the back of his neck, it was far more comfortable to press kisses against the sun-kissed skin there. His hair tickled your nose as you trailed soft pecks over his shoulders and he huffed, tilting his chin forward to let you continue to lavish attention onto him with a small hum.
The heat curling off his body settled your heart somewhat. How could he ever doubt what you would do to keep him with you?
It was funny to think about.
“You’re handsome,” you hummed. “I’m happy we got rid of those bruises. They make it much easier to kiss you.”
He glanced at you over his shoulder and you met his eyes, searching for any trace of the dullness that had lingered there the night before. You found nothing but a slight fluster, mixed in with something deeper you recognised all too well.
You kissed him before he could put a name to it. Not yet.
“Do you mind if I steal something bigger from you today?” you asked, not mentioning the hole but far too aware of it.
Ace looked wary. “I don’t like you getting hurt for it.”
“Even if it makes you feel better.”
“Especially then.”
You smiled softly at him and pressed a quick kiss to the side of his neck before you straightened. “But it gives you a much better chance of coming back and then you can keep me safe for real.”
He rolled his eyes at you but the easy smile on his face had returned. He was fine, you assured yourself. And soon he would be alive and then you’d be able to hear his heartbeat and feel his flames at your side normally.
Despite Ace’s earlier grumbling, he actually did stretch out on the infirmary bed Marco had taken to the loaned room in the Revolutionary Army’s headquarters. With his arms tossed behind his head, he almost looked as though he was lounging on the beach rather than allowing you to finally take a proper examination of the wound.
“Ask him to take a deep breath,” Marco said. “And then try your hardest to replicate it.”
Ace sighed. “My lungs are fine though.” He inhaled for what was barely a second, more a sharp intake of air than anything else, and released it. “See.”
You didn’t even bother trying to imitate it for Marco, just staring down with your lips pressed together. “That’s… really not a deep breath,” you told him softly. “That was shallower than my normal ones.”
Ace gave you a look and tried it again, this one coming even shorter than the previous. It was rather like a rabbit would breathe. He frowned and tried a third time, getting a little deeper before he suddenly began to cough.
You looked to Marco and he sighed.
“I thought so,” he said. “I had hoped it was just one damaged lung from the position I remembered but there might be another reason. Broken ribs or even his back might have pressed through them both.”
“My lungs aren’t damaged,” Ace protested and he sat up more. He tried to force a deep breath in and you watched as pain immediately shot through his face, rough coughs coming liberally.
You reached out to touch his shoulder immediately. “Hey, it’s okay,” you said. “It’s not a big problem if your lungs are damaged.”
“But I’ve been breathing the whole time,” he defended. “And it’s been fine.”
“Maybe because you don’t technically need the air,” you told him. “You might not have even noticed you weren’t doing it properly before.”
“Yeah, but I’m fine.” He tried to breathe in again and you sighed.
“Ace, please. It’s just going to hurt you.”
“It’s not meant to.”
“Yes but doing it over and over again won’t stop it from hurting.”
Ace sighed and slowly lay back down; brought his hand to his chest and rubbed at the edges of the wound as though that might help it. When it didn’t, he just stared up at the ceiling with a huff. Had he always breathed that quickly? You supposed you’d never thought to look for it before.
“It feels like I’m breathing properly,” he said. “Kind of. It only hurts when I try too hard.”
“You’ve probably gotten used to it,” you said.
His shoulders tightened for a second before he tried just one last time and winced again. “You might be right,” he said. “But it’s not like I had problems with it when I was alive.”
Marco was waiting patiently for you to look back up, staring slightly blankly into the space where Ace’s body would have been. When your eyes met his, he shook his head very minutely as though dragging himself back into the room.
“Do you think, just from looking at it, that there’s anything you could take? Don’t examine it too closely right now.”
You glanced at Ace once and he nodded before you looked closer. It really did seem to be a clean punch, but the closer you looked, the less there was that you thought you could handle.
The absence through his spine was most notable. Technically, his back was missing a whole chunk of itself and there was no way you would handle that. Then there were the much smaller disasters. The burned tissue was probably fine. Though there had to have once been organs where now there was only fused flesh.
Perhaps most importantly though, you could see his ribs. Or at least the edges of at least two. They were shattered, small fragments identifiable even in what remained of his body. Your stomach twisted and you forced yourself to look up at Marco.
“There are a few shattered ribs,” you said. “Maybe what’s causing the breathing?”
“I think the breathing is probably caused by a missing lung,” Marco said. “But… healed ribs would probably be helpful. The only problem is that kind of force probably wouldn’t snap them cleanly in two. They might splinter inward.”
“One less thing to heal,” you offered.
“What? No,” Ace said, immediately straightening. “If they splintered then you’re going to get really hurt by that.”
Marco gave you a flat look. “It could be. The problem is in how your devil fruit reacts. Will it just move the fracture or will it move the pieces too?”
“Probably just the fracture,” you said. “Logically, I mean, they spread out because there was space for them too. My body’s whole so it’ll probably just imitate how the break happened and then hold them in place.”
“I don’t normally like to bet people’s lives on the word probably,” he said.
Ace shifted away from your hand. “There’s something else there,” he said. “Maybe the burns.”
“The burns aren’t enough,” you reminded him.
Marco hummed softly. “The break in your knuckle came over as it was with no other tissue damage?”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s a possibility your theory is correct. Ace’s ribs broke from the back, forward. If I heal them in the same manner, there’s a pretty good chance I could stop any further damage from happening. It also won’t be anywhere close to pain free.”
A flicker of flame danced over Ace’s arms and he shuffled back on the bed. “Woah,” he said. “We are not doing this.”
“You said – ”
“Small things,” Ace said. “Small things are not broken ribs. What if you’re wrong and you’ve suddenly got no rib cage anymore? Or what if it’s too much and Marco can’t heal it in time?”
“I won’t be.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m willing to bet on it.”
“Well, I’m not!”
You reached out for him, hand hovering in the open space between you as you waited. “It’s a good chance,” you said. “The closer we get to bringing you back, the better everything will be. Your fruit and Marco’s combined can do a lot but we need this to be fixed and it’s far safer than taking like your lung.”
“I doubt you’d be able to do that anyway,” Marco said. “I can’t regenerate organs that have disintegrated.”
“What if the bone’s disintegrated too?” Ace asked.
“It isn’t. I can see that it didn’t.”
For a second, neither of you spoke and then Ace sighed and he lay back on the bed, eyes screwed tightly shut. He brought your hand closer, stopping just before it reached his torso and let it go. You’d have to cover the last few inches yourself.
You looked over your shoulder toward Marco and nodded. He gathered blue flame in his hand, moving closer to your back.
“Try and do it slowly if you can.”
“I will.”
That was a fool’s errand. You pressed your palm above the injury at first and then slid it down until your fingers lingered just inside of it where you could feel the space that should have had ribs and flesh to shield it.
It was a bad injury. As you reached through the barrier it throbbed like lightning before it even slammed into you.
Pain snapped through you so violently that the room vanished for a second. You stumbled back, straight into Marco’s hand but even as he healed, your breath disappeared. Heat and white pain split through your torso and a splintering agony took hold deep in your body. You desperately tried to inhale but your body refused, breaths limited to choked gasps as your knees buckled.
Ace was shouting your name. It was the only sound you could hear over the roar of phoenix flames in your ear.
The bone moved inside you; pulled and strained against your muscles for a second before it began to ebb away. It soaked through your limbs and dripped out like water from your skin as you managed to get a sharp inhale.
Then another.
Ace knelt in front of you, face pale beneath the warmth of his freckles. His hands were around your wrists and the warmth slowly overtook the sensation as his fingers curled and uncurled around your skin.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Got it,” you said, mildly victorious.
“Slowly, or take it all at once,” Marco said. “You two suit each other in that way at least. Absolutely no concept of restraint.”
You chuckled despite yourself, still wincing at the sting. “Didn’t know when I’d get another chance.”
Marco made a sharp, disapproving sound and pressed more flames over your sides. “It’ll fade,” he said. “You’re lucky I was ready for that.”
“Sorry.”
“Can you breathe?”
You breathed out slowly and then in. It stung. But it worked. “Yes.”
“How does Ace look?”
You dropped your gaze from worried brown eyes to the hole in his chest and a small hiccupping sigh of relief escaped you. You could see his ribs. It was a weird thing to celebrate but you could see them. Awkwardly stretched back but there.
“He has ribs again,” you said.
Ace looked down and immediately pulled a face. “Gross. It looked better before.”
“But it looks healthier now,” you enthused, picking up his hands and squeezing them. “That’s one less thing to worry about.”
He didn’t look as convinced as you were but at your expression, he shook his head and smiled. “You’re ridiculous,” he said. He leaned his forehead against your own. “Absolutely insane.”
“We definitely need a break moving forward,” Marco said. “I wouldn’t want you to risk another big injury before your body’s had time to recover but if this worked… I might be inclined to try something else of a similar nature.”
“Not now,” Ace said.
“No,” you reassured him. “Not now.”
The door opened and you turned your head; Sabo’s voice carrying through before he even looked around the room. “I have potential good news.” He looked at you, crouched on the floor and concern flashed across his expression. “Are you okay?”
“Ace has ribs again,” you said because the answer was your own were still killing you somewhat.
“Uh… great? I think. Scouts just reported seeing a marine ship dock on a nearby island. Looks like they’re resupplying so we have a bit of time.”
You pushed yourself straighter because Sabo wouldn’t bring you information about a random admiral. “Is it him?”
“He’s aboard. I thought I could send in some scouts to handle it but I can’t guarantee they’ll be able to get anything from him. Not safely at least. And I don’t want people to start a fight they don’t have the ability to get out of.”
He had a point. It wasn’t like the admiral was just dripping with his lava constantly. You’d have to get him to use it to collect it but what would he…
You could still feel the ghost of broken ribs beneath your skin when you caught a flicker run over Ace’s skin and his suggestion from weeks ago replayed in your head.
“He’s really quick to temper, right?” you asked. “If we put something behind a wall, he’ll go through it?”
“If it’s something he wants badly enough,” Ace said with gritted teeth.
“But you mentioned your fruit a few days ago,” you said to him. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. If he thinks that your fruit has reappeared within his reach, he’d try to retrieve it, right?”
Ace stared at you. “I think so,” he said.
“The Marines definitely want the Flame-Flame Fruit,” Sabo said, his expression tightening. “It’s become a symbol. For more than one side.”
After you arrived on the island, it took you no time at all to find the ship, clustered as it was with men in white coats. The man himself was even easier. He towered above his subordinates, not speaking and yet somehow giving orders as they moved around him, carrying supplies onto the ship with startling efficiency.
You had a fairly simple plan. Approach one of the less-important marines running around and tell them about something you were ‘worried’ about.
With any hope, they’d take the information to the admiral and then you could have Ace prove it by using his flames inside a building that seemed to have a locked door. The revolutionary who handed you the key to one of the warehouses had vanished faster than you even thought possible after giving it to you.
“I think this one is just within my tether,” you said, shoving one of the big metal doors open with your shoulder. “If I’m standing on the dock. When we walk past, just make it seem like somebody’s using your fruit inside.”
Ace didn’t take a step inside. His gaze was still firmly locked on the docks. “What if he doesn’t care?”
“Then we find another way.”
From what you’d quickly been briefed on during your trip here, he was being evaluated for a potential role as fleet admiral. If he took that promotion, you had no way of even beginning to get close enough to him.
Ace still wasn’t moving. “If he realises I’m with you, there’s going to be trouble.”
“Why would he suspect that?” you asked. “It’s not a common devil fruit to be talked about and even those who know about it wouldn’t expect you to have your powers still.”
“Yeah.”
But he didn’t walk. He stayed tight against your side, shoulders drawn almost to his ears. A flicker of flame passed over his skin.
“Maybe,” he said after a second. “We could use this.”
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I can use my fire but he can’t touch me when I’m dead,” Ace theorised slowly. “It could be an opportunity, right? If he tries to hit me, he’ll go straight through me and if you stay out of sight then I can get rid of him.”
You watched the fire curl over his arms and you reached out for him, grabbed his forearm and practically dragged him inside the dusty warehouse.
Old boats swayed above you, chains holding them groaning with exhaustion. You looked warily up at them and then back at Ace.
“That is not a good idea,” you said.
“Why not?”
“So many things could go wrong,” you urged. “What if he finds me? Then any chance you have of coming back will disappear forever.”
You wished Ace would look at you. He was still staring firmly at the wall as though he could see through it to where the admiral stood.
“I won’t let him. This is the best chance I could have.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Ace finally looked at you, expression blank in a way you weren’t certain you liked seeing from him. “I can do more than cause a distraction.”
“We don’t know what will happen if you use your fire over the bond,” you reasoned. “He’s not stupid. He’ll realise there’s probably something else hiding you if you just attack him out of nowhere. He could touch your fire with haki before. What if he could do the same now?”
Ace didn’t have an answer. He just shook his head. “I’m not scared.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
You reached out for him, hands gently coming up to rest against his cheeks as you tilted his face toward you. “Ace,” you said. “This isn’t a plan. We don’t want to fight somebody like that right now.”
“It doesn’t really matter to him if you’re wanting to fight.”
“To him, I’m nobody,” you urged. “I’m just a civilian. I’m not a pirate with a bounty. He won’t even remember my face.”
Ace sighed sharply and ran a hand through his hair. There were no flames, no sparking or guttering. But you could feel the anger rolling fever-hot from his body even without them. There was a part of him wanting revenge. You couldn’t blame him for that.
But it wasn’t the time.
“Fine,” he said. But despite the anger, there was something else there. A fear he named himself even if he pretended otherwise. “If he seems suspicious, you have to leave.”
“Already planning on it.”
You stepped closer and pressed your forehead lightly against his shoulder, just a small touch of reassurance. His arms wrapped around you immediately; far too tight. The way he squeezed you hurt but you didn’t move away.
Then he let you go.
“I hate this plan.”
“I know,” you said.
His hands came up to frame your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks softly as he looked at you. For a second, he didn’t move. Then Ace leaned in and kissed you, hard and warm, his fingers moving to the back of your neck and tightening.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.
“Don’t die,” he said. “There’s only room for one ghost here.”
“Soon to be no ghosts,” you said.
“Yeah.”
You squeezed his hand once before you locked the door of the building and began to count your steps as evenly as you could. You were pushing it a little, drawing this far from the tether. Even as you walked you could feel it straining against you, each step trying to drag you back to something more.
You approached one of the marines carefully, trying to look somewhere between nervous and relieved. The former was far from difficult.
“Excuse me,” you said and the man lifted his head.
The marine was clearly young but that was perfect. Young meant new and new meant he probably wasn’t going to be as good at reading you. You glanced over your shoulders and then lowered your voice.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” you said. “But I was always told I should tell the marines if I see one of those devil fruit things? A couple guys were bringing some into one of the warehouses down here and I think they’re going to try selling them or something.”
He blinked at you.
The Marines generally had little interest in devil fruits unless they were particularly strong but you hoped he wouldn’t outright dismiss your worries. Some of them still believed they were genuinely helping the general population.
“Uh… sure,” he said. “What did the devil fruit look like?”
You made a sphere with your hands. “Well, it was orange,” you said. “And it almost looked like it was on fire.”
“Where did you see it being taken?”
His voice sent a shiver of cold straight through you despite the warm, sunny atmosphere of the docks. For such a big man, you hadn’t even heard him approach, only noticing his shadow alongside yours as you turned.
Admiral Akainu was ridiculously tall. A sense of dread curled deep in your stomach as you tilted your chin up to consider him fully. The anger you should have felt was nothing in comparison to your nerves as he regarded you with far more observation than you cared to see. He didn’t seem like a man who forgot faces.
Maybe you’d misjudged that one.
You swallowed thickly while the marine you’d been speaking to blurted out a panicked greeting.
“I can show you,” you said, trying not to sound meek. “I don’t mean to interrupt important work but I thought it may be of interest.”
“We’ll have to see.” He nodded his chin to you. “Show me.”
You took a small step back before remembering you couldn’t walk backwards the entire way. It took a shocking amount of force to turn your back on him. Something deep in your ribs ached as you took a deep, shaking breath.
Thankfully, the warehouse you approached wasn’t far.
A tornado of flame erupted through the ceiling, tearing into the sky and causing all the soldiers to stumble back and yell. You wasted no time in dodging to the side, hiding behind the nearby crates like the scared civilian you pretended to be.
All the bother with getting a key and Akainu didn’t even try the door.
His fist turned molten as he marched straight through the wall.
Brick, wood, and metal screamed apart beneath him. Boiling rock poured over the alley in a sluggish wave, bright enough that you had to turn your face away for a second. The heat hit you a breath later and stole every thought from your head. It was worse than fire. Fire danced and flickered. Fire lived and moved.
Then Ace’s flames answered.
They exploded from inside the warehouse in a twisting pillar, ripping through the rotten roof hard enough that old beams snapped loose and spun upward in the inferno. The whole building groaned.
Had Ace’s flames always been so powerful?
You shook your mind free of the thoughts before you looked around and knelt.
The lava was still crawling from the ruined wall, thick and slow, blackening at the edges as it cooled. You dropped behind a stack of crates and shoved the metal box toward it with both hands. The heat bit through the sides instantly. You hissed between your teeth but didn’t let go.
The box scraped against the ground, its edge dipping into the molten spill. Red light licked over your fingers. The metal warped almost immediately, bowing inward like soft clay. Your palms burned even through the cloth you had wrapped around them, and for one horrible second, you thought the bottom would give out and spill magma over your feet.
You had it.
Akainu stopped.
You saw it through the gap between the crates. He turned his head slowly around the building, attention tracing over the walls before he looked back. The crate hid the box from his view. It did not hide you.
You made yourself flinch.
It was the only thing you could think to do. You jerked back like you had been caught staring, slammed your shoulder into the crate behind you and let out a small, terrified noise that didn’t take much acting at all. Then you scrambled away from the box just enough to make it seem like the molten spill had frightened you rather than tempted you closer.
One of the younger marines shouted something. Another called for civilians to clear the area.
Akainu’s gaze shifted.
You didn’t waste the gift.
You ducked away immediately, hurrying as far as you could go without yanking against the tether. Nobody followed.
The air dragged through your throat like smoke. You pressed your back against the shaded side of the building and lowered the box carefully onto the ground. The metal had gone soft in places, orange light bleeding through the seams. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it didn’t need to.
That went smoothly. Smoother than you thought it would.
Boots on the ground made you turn your head as Ace approached and for a second, you smiled at him, ready to showcase your win.
But the smile he returned was loose and barely there.
“Ace?” you asked.
He stopped in front of you.
Too close to miss the way his eyes looked straight past your shoulder.
A thick film hung over them again, grey and wrong, swallowing the warm brown you knew so well. It was worse in daylight. Worse when you couldn’t blame the darkness or your panic or the terrible half-sleep of the night before.
“Ace,” you said again, quieter.
He blinked.
The grey began to thin. His eyes warmed by degrees until he was looking at you again. His brows twitched faintly as though he had only just realised you were there.
“Sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t listening. Did you get it?”
“Yes,” you answered. It felt like blades dragging through your throat.
DESCRIPTION: You're a member of a powerful and rich family. When one of the family heads passes your share of an inheritance will be given after a year. But when others start dying it's clear someone wants a bigger share. Lucci is tasked with the assignment to investigate and protect you specifically.
WARNINGS: none
CHARACTERS: Rob Lucci
WORDS: 3582
A/N: After I had this idea, it was all I could think about until I had it written. It feels so good to be writing fully again. I hope you all enjoy this new story 💕
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI
Chapter One(here)| Chapter Two (coming soon)
———————
Normally funerals are emotional affairs, a time to pay one final moment of respect to the dead and say goodbye. A place to come together with family and support one another, bonding together in grief. That’s the common view of funerals. Not for your family though. As you took your seat amongst the masses you took a long, steadying breath and waited for the service to start. Blankly you looked to the large framed photograph of your great-uncle at the front of the room. A distant relative, a stranger in everything to you but a shared last name. You tried to think of any conversations you shared with him and could only really recall vague pleasantries in passing at social events or other funerals, times you were assembled to fulfil some duty that your family name expected of you. You heard laughter behind you and cast a glance back, spotting a distant cousin gossiping loudly with another relative, your great-aunt through marriage possibly.
Their conversation held no interest to you and you returned to your previous position, blocking out their voices and the other conversations bubbling up around you. There was no pretence in today’s gathering. For many, like yourself this was what was expected. Your obligation. Others held so much excitement that the room practically buzzed to the point you felt it impossible to relax. Your great-uncle was one of the main heads of the family and now that he was gone so many of your family could barely contain themselves at the question they all shared. ‘What was the old man’s will going to say?’ You held no curiosity on that part. The family, as large as it was was incredibly wealthy and held a lot of power in the world from multiple businesses and old connections. Not exactly royalty but close enough. Whether you got anything left to you or not, you already had enough to live in luxurious comfort for more than one lifetime. That was true for everyone in the room but for some of them, what they had still wouldn’t be enough. They craved more, wanting to hoard as much wealth and power as they could.
As the signal came for the service to start you sat a little straighter, telling yourself that all you had to do was sit through this and you could then go home and leave the vultures to themselves until the next wedding, event, or funeral required your attendance. That had been the plan at least. It seemed your great-uncle had other wishes entirely as when the funeral was concluded his lawyer stood and announced that those he called for were to remain behind. Everyone else was to leave. Sadly for you, your name was in the list. When the final family member not needed left with a resounding, petulant slamming of the door, you and the rest of your relatives listened silently as the lawyer read out your great-uncle’s final wishes. As expected his shares in businesses were evenly split between his surviving siblings. Adequate sums of money were given to close friends and chosen charities to ensure the family name continued to be seen in a positive light. But then came the reason you were still sitting here. “It is my wish for my wealth to be distributed out equally among you, my youngest and unwed relatives. However there will be rules. The first rule is that the inheritance will only be granted one year after my death. Secondly, should any of you marry in that time, your share will be forfeit and added to the other’s inheritances. Third, although you are all young and healthy death can come to anyone. Should any of you pass from now until the deadline, your share will also be forfeit and shared amongst the others.”
At the time you only nodded, showing you understood and stood with the others. You spent no further time in the room and promptly returned to your ship and headed home, thinking no more about the will or the inheritance that would come your way in a year’s time. Unless you got married or died that was. At that stipulation in the will you had held back the urge to laugh. Of course he would have snuck something like that in, he wasn’t the first to pull something like that. Your father had once told you about his great-great aunt forbidding anyone listed in her will from wearing the colour green for six months before they received their inheritance simply because she hated the colour. You reasoned part of the rules came from a place of boredom, if you have so much money you may as well have some sort of fun with it once your gone. As your ship pulled away from the island you finally let your body relax and truly felt like you could breathe properly again. With that over with you could finally get on with your life.
———
Ordinarily for mission assignments they were given to the agents that would be going out together, never in large groups like the one Lucci was stood with now. He wasn’t the only one confused it seemed. His gaze looked to the door as it opened and more agents came in and looked around in bewilderment. An answer for this mass of agents would be explained soon so he remained silently in his seat, lifting a curled finger to lightly stroke Hattori’s chest at the same time Kaku pulled up a chair beside him as Cipher Pol’s main liaison officer and multiple administrators entered carrying stacks of files. Lucci silently calculated there’d be a file for each agent. Wordlessly the administrators spread out around the room, handing out files as the liaison officer cleared his throat. “I’m keeping this brief. In the last month and a half twelve members of the same, prominent family have been killed.” Lucci took the file offered to him and flipped it open. His gaze zeroed in on the family name and felt a frown pull at his lips as some murmurs broke out, all of the agents understanding in unison how serious a family of your standing was to the balance and power of the world. It was also worth mentioning your family were huge supporters of the Marines for centuries. “While some managed to look like tragic accidents it’s clear these deaths have been intentional. We need to act before more are targeted.”
“Sir, this copy of the will…” One agent spoke up, his gaze on the legal document included in everyone’s file. “Are we to lead with the belief that these deaths are at the says of someone in the family itself?”
“Yes. The less members to share the inheritance, the bigger the survivors receive.” The liaison nodded. “This isn’t the first time such a thing has happened however the bigger picture is what each of these deaths do to the world state. This family has dealings in many industries and is large enough to cause havoc if this situation worsens. The newspapers are already circulating stories on this and we need to get it under control. Each of you have been given a specific family member on the inheritance list. You are to investigate thoroughly to discover if they are the person or persons responsible for the current deaths, stop them from causing anymore, and prevent them from being targets. Most importantly of all, keep a low profile and do not attract any attention about your true intentions. There will be no more public news about this situation. You all have your assigned target, leave as soon as possible.”
With that Lucci rose from his seat and left with the other agents, everyone set on their tasks with no room for idle conversation. As he boarded his ship, he gave a small cursory nod to Kaku and the others. Stepping into his quarters, Lucci sat down and began to meticulously read over his file. Silently he examined your photos and personal information, looking for anything of use to aid him in his investigation. If there was just under a year until the inheritance was paid, it was safe to assume that would be the duration of his mission. If he wanted to be as prepared and efficient as possible he needed to craft a persona for himself to explain his presence with as little questions as possible. Your family weren’t to know they were being observed and he could hide himself with little effort but if you were one of the targets, instead of the perpetrator he doubted those responsible would stop after a single failed attempt. A family as rich and influential as yours could hire multiple assassins and mercenaries as they liked without batting an eye to the price and that was before they received the added boost from your late relative.
Absently Lucci drummed his fingers against the armrest of his chair as he looked over the twelve deaths. One died from falling over the balcony of their mansion in the middle of a party, that had originally been classed as a drunken accident. One had fallen down the stairs and broken their neck. Another drowned after ‘falling asleep in the tub.’ One death had been at the hands of a seemingly random pirate raid hitting the island they lived on. Two had been stabbed in previously thought to be safe locations, one had been shot by a sniper, three had suffered poisonings, and two had perished in fires. Lucci felt himself growing annoyed already. If the assassins were as good to be able to kill from a distance with a sniper as well as get into the homes and even manage to plant poison without detection then he couldn’t just merely stick to the shadows for the duration of the mission. If he had to prevent any possible chance of death befalling you then he would have to get close. Close without his presence being suspicious, preferably in a way that granted him access to your home.
His sharp gaze poured over the included images of your home and its full blueprints of the layout, already searching for possible weak spots and good vantage points for nighttime surveillance. By the time the sun had set and he was turning in for the night he had everything memorised, already devising the fastest routes and running through any and all possible methods for breaking in, hiding, escaping for nearly any scenario or attack.
The next morning the ship docked at the island neighbouring yours and Lucci disembarked, ready dressed in simple and plain clothing and planning to get a merchant ship to take him the rest of the way. His plan was to appear as though he was just a simple civilian moving to your island in search of work. For the next nine and half months he was no longer an agent, an instrument to kill. He was an ordinary man, just like he had been back on Water 7. Skilled, hardworking, unassuming. He’d be just another person going about their life until his mission was classed a success and he could discard the persona and return to Cipher Pol Headquarters, just as he did for his other missions. It was no effort at all to get passage onto the ship, especially after some money was offered in gratitude for the journey. Lucci leaned against the mast of the modest little ship that drew closer to the island already visible in the distance. Just another short distance to go.
———
You were exhausted but knew there would be no benefit to going to sleep so early in the day, as tempting as it would be. You braced your hands against the counter of your kitchen and glared out at the bright, sunny day that was irritating your stinging, tired eyes. You’d arrived home just as the sun rose after yet another trip to yet another funeral and had no urge to do anything. Not that you had anything pressing to do anyway. Any necessary correspondences and minimal duties were seen to before you’d left for the most recent funeral. Rubbing your neck you sighed and looked around the kitchen, remembering why you came here in the first place. In spite of your exhaustion and all that had happened you knew you needed to eat. Even if it was a little at a time, you needed to maintain your energy in some capacity because you knew this was far from over.
You ate slowly, forcing yourself to just focus on one bite at a time. It didn’t matter if your meal took longer than usual, if anything it meant it would kill time until you could actually lie down and sleep. Now that your stomach was full you felt a little bit more alert and with that came the agitation of having energy but having nothing to do. After you washed up and cleaned away your plate you stepped outside into your garden just as you caught a muffled but familiar voice in the distance, drawing closer to the front gate of your home. The island mayor if you weren’t mistaken. “Now remember, I’m only showing you the house because you helped me out. Don’t be disturbing them, until tomo- oh!”
The mayor jumped in surprise from behind the gate to see you approach. The old man bowed respectfully at you, regardless of how many times over the years you’s told him he didn’t need to. Sharply he jabbed the man beside him in the ribs, coaxing him to bow too. Curiously you looked at the newcomer who peculiarly had a white pigeon perched on his shoulder. He wasn’t someone you recognised and given how the mayor mentioned showing him your house it was clear he was a stranger to the island completely. Now you had to wonder why he wanted to see it. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh him? He appeared late this morning. Wants to make the island his home apparently, been asking about jobs and lodging.”
“I see.” You smiled, looking to the stranger politely. “Any luck?”
The man opened his mouth but the mayor cut in immediately. “He’s got a room in the tavern for tonight at least and managed a few odd jobs in town.” The mayor lightly clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “Then I remembered you mentioning you were considering looking for someone to do work on the grounds. Perfect timing huh? I’ll leave you two to discuss things, oh and sorry again for your loss.”
You nodded stiffly and watched the mayor turn and disappear down the path that lead him back to town, leaving you and the stranger alone. You jumped slightly when the pigeon on his shoulder ruffled his feathers and extended a wing. “Hoo, hoo I’m Hattori. This guy’s name is Rob Lucci and the mayor’s right he is looking for work.” An amused curve of your lips appeared as your eyes darted back to Lucci’s face. “So you got anything for us like the old man said?”
“That depends.” You mused watching Lucci’s head tilt slightly, showing he was listening. “Show me your hands.”
“Huh? What kinda interview is this?” Hattori’s high pitched tone sounded out and you grinned playfully, offering him a light shrug.
“Humour me?” You requested innocently. “Put your hands between the bars, palms up please. Promise I don’t bite.”
Lucci stared at you for a second, keeping his expression calm and slowly lifted his hands from his sides and did as you asked, passing them between the spaces of the bars in the locked gate. You leaned forward and examined his palms with a critical stare before you gently reached out, your fingers running over his palms and fingertips while your thumbs traced against the back of his hands. You took in the coarseness of his warm skin, feeling every little nick, callous, faint scars, and especially taking note of how strong his hands felt even in their relaxed position. Satisfied you pulled your hands away and smiled at him. “Okay. Interview’s over.” You smiled, turning on your heel and began to head back towards the house. “Come back tomorrow, I’ll get you started on some work then.”
“What was that about?” Hattori called after you. Instead of stopping or looking back you lifted your hand to lazily wave at them.
“Tomorrow morning, Lucci.” Lucci watched you disappear, completely unsure of what to make of you so far. You seemed like any other rich person, ordering people based on their random whims but at the same time your careful scrutiny of his hands and the fact that you kept a safe distance from the gate that you never once moved to open told him something else entirely. Still he couldn’t complain, this introduction went far smoother than he’d thought possible. Already he had an in with you and if you were going to allow him to work for you on your grounds, he already had access to your home during the day for his investigations and to keep you from being assassinated. He turned and headed back to the town, making sure to be seen to return to the tavern he’d gotten lodging in for the night then he’d make his way back here to start his hidden surveillance of you.
———
You hadn’t done anything of note throughout the day, stayed inside your home only really going to your study and the kitchen. Lucci observed you didn’t have any servants in your home. You didn’t even have a cook when he watched you prepare dinner for yourself. Perhaps this was their day off? He’d look into that more over the coming days. You cleaned up and when night fell Lucci remained in the shadows as you moved up the staircase and into your bedroom. Even living in seclusion and away from the rest of the town you still moved to the large windows and began to close the curtains only to stop suddenly and stare out. Lucci narrowed his eyes. No, there was no way you could see him. Not this far back and with this cover. Then you leaned forward and used your sleeve to wipe a mark off of the glass before pulling the curtains closed and hiding you from sight.
When the lights switched off, Lucci moved swiftly and silently to clear the high fences and crossed the grounds. As expected picking the lock of your door took little effort and he made his way inside. Starting in the kitchen he meticulously inspected your food and raw ingredients looking for any sign of possible tampering or poisoning. When that was cleared he moved through your home like a ghost, anything he moved and investigated was put back with precision as if he wasn’t there. There were no suspicious lists of your relatives or signs of being in contact with an assassin but this was his initial search. His more in-depth scrutiny into your home, secrets, and personal life would come later. The rich always knew how to cover their tracks efficiently but if there was anything to find, it was inevitable he would root it out and succeed in his mission.
Finally he moved to your room. Staying close to the door he peered inside your room and saw you lying in your bed. The sound of your deep, relaxed breathing telling him you were definitely fast asleep. Lucci stepped inside and did a sweep of your room, keeping an ear out for any sign of change in your breathing or for any possible intruder coming to make their move so swiftly after the last death to hit your family. For the rest of the night Lucci stayed hidden in the hallway, guarding you until the sun began to rise. Quickly he left, locking up behind him and made his way back to the tavern to change and ready himself for his first full day of working for you.
———
After a full night’s rest of deep, uninterrupted sleep you felt more yourself and woke feeling refreshed. As you rose you remembered Lucci would be returning and sighed, working on preparing yourself for that. You were happy to play the fool if it meant people kept their guards down and underestimated you. The laidback member of an important family who got everything they wanted without a care and with no real view of the world beyond the fact it was there to cater to your every wish was an easy role to play. But you weren’t an idiot. You never were. And it certainly didn’t take a genius to spot how twelve less family members meant someone in the family wasn’t satisfied with their already enormous share and weren’t going to be happy until there was only them left. You would be a target. If not today then definitely within the next nine and a half months.
As you looked outside you spotted Lucci casually appear on the pathway towards your home you stepped outside and headed towards the gate to unlock it and let it inside. You didn’t believe in coincidence so you weren’t going to just believe some mysterious stranger looking for work happened to appear in the midst of all this was by chance. He was hiding something and you were going to keep him occupied with work until you got to the truth of the matter regardless of what it took and how long.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺. reader is expelled from her home, depression, there will be a second part! see pinned post for banner creds and where I find fanart!
With your knees to the ground of your homeland, you felt utterly defeated as you peer into the eyes of the crow before you.
It felt as if Boa Hancock took your soul from you and ridiculed your desire for an eternity in your homeland when she declared you an enemy of your own Country, all because you had fallen in love with a man.
“Oh,” You whisper to yourself as you notice your own reflection in the eyes of the crow. “Why are you so blurry?”
You blink away your tears, but they disobeyed you and fell.
He wasn’t just any man, he was the Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.
“Ace,” You whisper to yourself, your nails now dirty. You had dug your fingers into the ground. “What should I do? Ace?”
Ace couldn’t hear you, he was miles and miles away, drinking and laughing as he celebrated another win upon defeating an enemy.
The Crow titled its head, keeping your face in its memory, and flew away into the sky, as you silently wish it took you with it.
“Name,” Sonia says, a light hiss at the end, but her hiss meant no harm. “Your time is up.”
Your time is up.
As if all the laughters, smiles and tears meant nothing; as if you meant nothing. You look at the now empty spot where the crow once stood, staring at you, and you rise. If love was beautiful, why did the world and its residents have to curse it?
“For what it’s worth, I hope Big Sis changes her mind.” Sonia says, her eyes on you, but you refused to meet her eye.
A quiet scoff escaped your mouth. Sonia didn’t hear it. No one heard anything you did or say, unless it involved breaking the rules. You take a step forward, then another, and you left without a word. You left without looking back. All you could do was look forward and leave your homeland behind, all because love failed you. He failed you.
Tears threaten to fall, but you blink them back, and for the first time they did not disobey you.
Plot: Newly named Emperor Shanks visits the Moby Dick to honor a childhood promise
The Moby Dick went quiet the moment Red-Haired Shanks stepped onto the deck.
Shanks had come alone.
He crossed the gangplank with one hand resting at his side, his mouth curved in that lazy, infuriating smile.
Marco was the first to move.
He stepped into Shanks’s path, arms folded over his chest. “You lost?”
Shanks looked around the deck, taking in the familiar white sails, the division commanders, the younger men staring too openly, the older ones who remembered too much.
“No,” he said. “Still looks about the same.”
“That wasn’t an invitation to reminisce.”
Shanks laughed under his breath. “Good to see you too, Marco.”
From the upper deck, Whitebeard’s laugh rolled down like thunder.
“Gurararara. Let him through.”
Shanks walked forward like he had every right to be there. Men moved out of his path. A few hands stayed near weapons. He did not spare them a glance. His gaze lifted to Whitebeard, seated in his great chair.
“Newgate.”
Whitebeard’s eyes narrowed slightly beneath the crescent of his mustache.
“Red-Hair.”
A few of the younger pirates shifted at the title. It was still new enough to taste strange in the air.
Yonko. Emperor.
Shanks only smiled wider.
Whitebeard reached for his sake. “You’ve got nerve walking onto my ship without your crew.”
“I figured if I brought them, you’d think I came for a fight.”
“And if you come alone, I’m supposed to think you came for tea?”
“I was hoping for sake.”
Someone snorted.
Marco did not.
Whitebeard drank, then lowered the bottle. “Say what you came to say.”
Shanks’s smile softened into something almost polite.
“I came to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
The deck went dead.
Then all at once, it erupted.
“What?”
“Did he say marriage?”
“Is he drunk?”
“He looks sober.”
Marco’s head turned slowly toward him. “You want to repeat that?”
Shanks glanced at him. “Sure. I came to ask—”
“No,” Marco said. “Don’t.”
Whitebeard did not move.
For one long moment, he simply stared at Shanks.
Then his grin widened.
“Gurararara.”
The laugh shook the deck.
A few men relaxed.
A few did not.
Shanks stood there patiently, one hand resting on the hilt at his hip, looking pleased with himself.
You had been halfway down from the aft stairs when the words reached you.
Your hand tightened around the railing.
That smug bastard.
You descended the rest of the steps with enough force that three nearby pirates wisely moved aside before you reached the main deck.
Shanks saw you coming.
His face lit up.
That was the worst part. Not the title. Not the arrogance.
It was the way he smiled at you.
Like he had been waiting for this.
“There’s my girl,” Shanks said warmly.
You stopped several feet from him. “No.”
Shanks looked pleased to see you angry. “I wondered how fast you would come down.”
“Fast enough to stop you.”
“You’re a little late for that.”
“You asked my father before asking me.”
“I did.”
“In front of everyone.”
His smile softened at the edges. “I wanted witnesses.”
Your face heated. “You wanted an audience.”
His eyes moved over your face, and your stomach tightened before you could stop it. You hated that too. Hated that he could still look at you like the boy who used to lean too close just to see if you would shove him.
He looked different now. Broader through the shoulders. Stronger. The boyish charm had not disappeared; it had gotten worse. Sharper at the edges. Harder to ignore.
But his eyes were the same.
Bright. Wicked. Patient.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
Whitebeard leaned back in his chair, watching you both with open amusement.
“My daughter says no.”
Shanks did not look away from you. “I haven’t asked her yet.”
“You asked me,” Whitebeard said.
“Tradition.”
“You care about tradition now?” you snapped.
Shanks placed a hand over his heart. “I have always respected sacred promises.”
Marco made a sound of disgust.
Shanks’s attention returned to you at once. “You remember what you promised me.”
You went still.
“You were twelve.”
“And deeply committed.”
Someone near the mast choked on a laugh.
Your face heated. “Do not encourage him.”
Shanks turned slightly, addressing the watching crew with the casual confidence of a man about to make everything worse. “For the record, she said yes.”
“I was eleven! And I wanted the bracelet.”
Shanks’s smile softened. “I know.”
You remembered the bracelet. Cheap silver, bent slightly at the clasp, much too big for your wrist. Shanks had pressed it into your hand and told you that when he became a great pirate captain, you had to marry him.
You had laughed in his face.
Then you had let him put the bracelet on you anyway.
You had worn it for three days before your father noticed and asked where it came from. You had lied badly. Shanks had lied worse. Roger had laughed so hard he had nearly fallen off a barrel.
Whitebeard’s voice cut through the noise. “Red-Hair.”
Shanks finally looked back at him.
The amusement on Whitebeard’s face remained, but his eyes had sharpened.
“You became an emperor and decided your first act would be to walk onto my ship and ask to marry my daughter?”
Shanks shrugged lightly. “Not my first act.”
“Careful.”
The word cracked across the deck.
The laughter died.
Shanks did not flinch. His smile stayed, but the ease left his face.
“I came because I said I would,” Shanks said.
Your breath caught despite yourself.
Whitebeard watched him.
Shanks continued, voice still easy, but quieter now. “Took longer than I thought.”
You stared at him.
The deck felt too exposed. Too crowded. Every brother, every commander, every curious fool aboard seemed to be listening with their whole body.
You hated him for that too.
For making a spectacle.
For making your heart react before your pride could stop it.
One sentence from him, and there you were again: a red-haired boy grinning at you after you had kissed him behind a stack of crates and shoved him so hard he fell into them.
The woman you were now knew better.
The woman you were now knew Shanks was dangerous in ways the boy had only pretended to be.
So you lifted your chin.
“And what if I refuse?”
Shanks’s eyes warmed.
“Then I’ll ask again later.”
A wave of groans rose from the crew.
You closed your eyes for one second. “Unbelievable.”
Marco stepped between you and Shanks just enough to make a point. “Or you could leave her alone.”
Shanks looked past him at you. “I could.”
“You should,” Marco said.
Shanks’s smile tilted. “That depends on what she says.”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
You stepped forward before he could say anything else. His smile softened when you came near.
Your pulse jumped.
You hated that most of all.
“Private,” you said.
Shanks blinked once. “What?”
“If you came all this way to make a fool of yourself, you can do it without an audience.”
His grin returned. “So there is a conversation.”
“There is a warning.”
“I like warnings.”
“Then listen carefully.”
Marco made another disgusted sound.
You reached out, grabbed the front of Shanks’s cloak, and pulled him down just enough that his smile stopped being quite so easy.
The deck erupted again.
You ignored them.
“You will stop smiling,” you said under your breath, “or I will let Marco throw you overboard.”
Shanks straightened, still watching you. “Lead the way.”
You turned sharply and started toward the aft corridor.
Behind you, Marco muttered, “I don’t like this.”
Whitebeard laughed into his sake.
“She’ll handle him.”
You did not look back.
You already knew Shanks was following.
You could feel his smile at your back the whole way.
——————————
Your room was close enough to the upper deck that you could still hear the muffled noise of the crew outside.
You opened the door, stepped inside, and waited.
Shanks followed you inside.
You shut the door hard enough that the frame rattled.
His gaze moved to the bed.
Then to you.
His smile widened. “I have to admit, this is not where I thought the proposal would take me.”
You picked up the letter opener from your desk.
Shanks glanced at the blade and gave a quiet laugh.
“Fair.”
Shanks leaned back against the closed door.
You tightened your arms around yourself. “Why now?”
Shanks did not answer immediately.
Outside, someone laughed. The sound carried through the door, then faded.
“Because I meant what I said.”
Your throat tightened.
“You don’t know me anymore.”
His answer came quietly.
“No.”
Shanks had not moved from near the door. That alone made you pause.
“I don’t know you the way I used to,” he said. “I know that.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Asking for the chance to know you again.”
He said it plainly. No grin. No joke tucked behind the words.
That was harder to fight.
“You really expect me to believe you came all this way because of something we said as children?”
“No.”
That answer stopped you.
Shanks looked at you. “I came because I never stopped thinking about you.”
You looked away first, furious with yourself for needing the second it took to recover.
“You’re assuming there’s something left to find.”
“I’m hoping.”
The quiet honesty of it took some of the fight out of you, and you hated him for that too.
Shanks’s eyes stayed on yours. For a moment, neither of you moved.
Then Shanks reached into the inside of his cloak.
You stiffened.
He paused, brow lifting. “If I were going to draw a weapon in your bedroom, I’d be doing this much worse.”
“You are very close to being hit.”
“I did assume that was still on the table.”
He pulled out a small box.
You stared at it.
Shanks glanced down at the box, then back at you. “Before you accuse me of stealing it, I paid for this one.”
Then he opened the box.
The bracelet inside was not cheap silver. It was gold, delicate but solid, worked in a pattern of small linked waves. A single red stone sat at the clasp.
It was beautiful.
That irritated you immediately.
Shanks looked down at it with a small, almost self-conscious smile.
“An upgrade,” he said.
You looked up at him.
The humor had not left his face completely, but it had softened into something quieter.
“I don’t remember the old one being this nice,” he said.
“It wasn’t.”
The answer slipped out too quickly.
Shanks’s eyes lifted to yours.
You realized your mistake a second too late.
His smile changed.
“You kept it.”
You looked away.
He did not say it like a victory. He said it like he remembered the day he had given it to you.
You folded your arms tighter, but it did nothing to help. “It was ugly.”
“It nearly fell off twice before lunch.”
“You noticed?”
Shanks’s smile warmed. “I was twelve. You wearing it was the most important thing that had ever happened to me.”
You had no sharp answer ready.
Shanks looked back down at the new bracelet. His thumb brushed the edge of the box.
“Last time, I gave you something cheap and acted like it was enough because I was a kid and I didn’t know better.” He looked at you again. “I know better now.”
The room went quiet.
“You think expensive gold fixes your entrance?”
“No.” The edge of his smile returned. “But it does make me look more prepared.”
A laugh almost escaped you.
He laughed softly, and the sound loosened something in your chest.
Then he closed the box.
“I’ll keep it for now,” he said.
You looked at the box.
Shanks noticed.
His voice lowered. “Unless you want it.”
Your eyes moved to your desk. To the drawer you had not opened in front of him. The drawer where the old bracelet sat, bent clasp and all.
Shanks followed your glance. When he looked back at you, he did not tease.
That was worse.
“You really kept it,” he said.
Your fingers curled at your side. “It was a long time ago.”
“I know.”
You looked at the box again.
Gold. Red stone. Small linked waves.
Beautiful enough to annoy you.
“It does not mean I forgive that entrance.”
You held out your hand.
Shanks did not say something clever. He only placed the box in your palm.
The weight of it was small. The feeling was not. You closed your fingers around it before you could change your mind.
“And if you look pleased with yourself,” you said, “I will throw it overboard.”
Shanks’s mouth twitched.
You narrowed your eyes.
He fought the smile down. Badly. “Understood.”
You looked away first, the box still held tight in your hand.
“You are not getting an answer today,” you said.
“I didn’t expect one.”
“You asked my father.”
“I asked your father because he is your father.” Humor flickered across his face. “And because if I didn’t, he might sink my ship on principle.”
“He still might.”
“I know. That’s why I came alone.”
A reluctant laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
He went quiet at the sound, watching you like that small laugh had been worth crossing the sea for.
Shanks took one more step toward you, then stopped. He was close now. Close enough that if you reached out, you could touch the front of his cloak again.
His voice softened.
“Have dinner with me.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Dinner.” His smile returned, but gently this time. “Not a wedding. Not an answer. Just dinner.”
“On your ship?”
“Unless you’d rather feed me here and let Marco glare at me the whole time.”
“That does sound enjoyable.”
“I thought you might like that part.”
He waited.
“One dinner,” you said.
His shoulders eased. “One dinner.”
“And if you make one more joke about my bed, I will stab you with the letter opener on my desk.”
Shanks glanced toward the desk, then back at you. “That one looks dull.”
“Would you like to find out?”
He laughed softly, and this time you did not look away fast enough to hide that you liked the sound.
His gaze caught on your face. For a second, the room felt smaller.
Shanks leaned in.
His mouth brushed yours. Soft at first.
You moved closer instead of pulling away.
Shanks paused against your mouth, and you felt him breathe in.
Then he kissed you again.
This time, it was not soft.
His mouth pressed firmly to yours, warm and sure, and kissing him now made your knees less reliable than they had any right to be. His hand rested on your waist.
Your lips parted on a breath.
Shanks made a low sound against your mouth and pulled you closer.
Then you broke the kiss first.
Barely.
Your lips still brushed his when you spoke.
“Dinner,” you said.
His eyes opened.
“Dinner,” he agreed.
Then he stepped back.
Shanks opened the door, but paused before stepping out.
He smiled.
Not smug this time.
Fond.
“I’m glad you kept it.”
The door closed softly behind him.
Outside, Marco said something sharp.
Shanks laughed.
You stood in the middle of your room, staring at the door, unable to stop the small, foolish smile that came after him.
Summary: The mission is almost over. Neither of you is ready to stop pretending.
Or, in other words: Sanji has spent four days trying to convince you that you're special. Now he has to convince you to believe him.
You can read the first part HERE.
Word count: about 11.8k (oops 🤭🤭)
Contains: fake dating, fake engagement, fluff, PINING, awkward overdramatic romance, a bit of angst, reader being insecure about how flirty Sanji is and his true feelings, a bit of blood, CONFESSION and a lot of tooth rotting fluff, lots of kissing.
Author’s Note: Finally, here’s the second part of the fake engagement story! I still think pining is my favorite thing to write, but these two deserved their happy ending. Thanks everyone so much for the love you showed Part 1! I hope you enjoy it, lovelies! 🩷
Morning slowly crept into the room through the narrow gap in the curtains you had forgotten to draw completely shut.
You could hear the steady rhythm of breathing lulling you back to sleep, and as you stirred slightly, you became aware of a weight around your waist tugging you closer.
As consciousness gradually returned, you realized your cheek was pressed against Sanji’s chest while his chin rested atop your head, tilted just enough that he could breathe in the scent of your hair. Strong arms held you securely against him, your legs tangled together so that your left leg rested beneath his right. The blanket, rather than covering either of you properly, had somehow ended up wrapped around your waists, tossed carelessly across your stomachs sometime during the night.
Your heart fluttered.
Even if you’d wanted to escape, you doubted you could have.
Not that you were particularly eager to.
It was nice, if only for a moment, to imagine this was your everyday life.
Sanji drew in a slow breath, catching traces of your shampoo and sweet perfume before unconsciously pulling you even closer. His fingers brushed lightly against the exposed skin of your waist where your nightgown had ridden up, sending a shiver through you. You twitched instinctively, and your cook immediately lowered his hand.
A quiet apology rumbled from his chest.
The two of you remained like that for a while, suspended in a sleepy sort of bliss, until he finally gathered enough sense to murmur:
“Is this alright, my dear?”
He was already prepared to untangle the two of you completely and put some distance between you when, to both your surprise and his, you only burrowed deeper into the crook of his neck.
“It’s too early,” you mumbled. “Go back to sleep. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
A scene that would have been unimaginable only a few days ago.
Sanji gazed down at your closed eyes and peaceful figure with such tenderness that his chest ached. He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. Settling more comfortably against the pillows, he began absentmindedly tracing patterns along your arm and shoulder with one hand while holding you close with the other, until he, too, drifted back to sleep.
By the time he opened his eyes again, your side of the bed was empty.
The balcony door stood slightly ajar, allowing a soft sea breeze to drift through the room.
Stretching, he climbed out of bed and made his way toward you, though not before improvising breakfast's most important ingredient, managing to make the two of you coffee with what little the suite had to offer.
He found you sitting on the balcony with your feet drawn up slightly, gazing out across the endless stretch of ocean.
“Good morning, my beloved.”
His voice was warm and slightly rough with sleep as he offered you a cup.
Making room for him, you watched as he pulled his chair closer and sat beside you.
Smiling, you returned the greeting and took a sip. A quiet sigh escaped you as you closed your eyes for a moment, and Sanji’s heart immediately decided this was how every morning of his life ought to begin.
“It’s so peaceful,” you said, watching the waves.
“I could get used to this.”
A faint smile touched your lips, though there was something wistful about it.
“Still… as impossible and loud as they are, I miss our crew.”
Sanji laughed softly.
Partly in agreement.
Only partly.
One day, after everything was over, he hoped to steal you away on an adventure of your own.
“We’ll see if you’re still saying that in a few days when you’re diving into the ocean after Luffy because he decided to chase some flying beetle he found fascinating.”
You bit the inside of your cheek in a futile attempt to suppress your laughter.
It didn’t work.
Sanji’s heart promptly grew three sizes.
“Alright,” you admitted. “That definitely.”
Eventually it was time to get ready for breakfast, and so you and the curly-browed cook found yourselves sharing the resort’s absurdly spacious bathroom.
You were already dressed and nearly finished getting ready, currently applying the last touches of makeup while trying to decide which jewelry suited today’s dress best.
Your fake fiancé watched from the sidelines with sparkling eyes, utterly fascinated by these small rituals of yours.
While rummaging through your jewelry case, you frowned.
“I swear I took the other earring out already…”
Without a word, Sanji gently dropped it into your palm.
“Looking for this, my dear? It was beside your toiletry bag. It must’ve slipped underneath.”
You blinked.
“Thank you.”
His smile softened immediately.
Sharing one bathroom should not have felt this domestic.
And yet somehow it did.
Later, while you were curling your hair, Sanji insisted he could help.
“You won’t be able to reach the back properly.”
Before you could argue, he was already carefully separating strands of your hair and wrapping them around the heated iron, taking exaggerated care not to burn you.
“You have such soft, silky hair, Y/N-swan,” he murmured, moving from one lock to the next, completely enchanted by the closeness. “I could do this every da—AAH!”
Naturally, he burned himself.
Even while jerking back, he made a heroic effort to keep the curling iron far away from your neck.
“The MOST IMPORTANT THING A COOK HAS, my delicate hands!” he lamented dramatically.
You looked at him with immediate concern, but after examining the situation and realizing it was, as expected, considerably less severe than his reaction suggested, you gently took hold of his wrist and guided him toward the sink.
Turning on the cold water, you held his finger beneath the stream.
Sanji forgot how to breathe.
“I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” you muttered.
Meanwhile, Sanji was busy berating himself for overreacting.
While you searched through your cosmetics bag for burn ointment and carefully applied it before placing a bandage over the spot, his thoughts galloped off in directions that were entirely unhelpful.
Directions that involved scenes like this repeating themselves years from now.
Far more often than they had any right to.
“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’d willingly put both hands into a fire if it meant I could spend half an hour running them through your hair.”
You stared at him in confusion for a moment before trying not to laugh.
Instead, a snort escaped you.
“I see you’re not lacking in dramatic flair,” you teased.
“Never,” he grinned and then added, with surprising sincerity:
“But I mean that one.”
You held his gaze for a silent moment before reaching up without a word to straighten the collar of his shirt and adjust his tie.
“Since a wounded man such as yourself is clearly no longer capable of doing it alone”
Your fingers moved deftly, straightening the knot and settling it perfectly into place.
“Besides, your finger’s covered in ointment.”
Sanji very nearly started purring from the intimacy of the moment.
Standing this close to him, focused entirely on fixing his appearance, felt dangerously easy.
He silently swore that he would never wear another tie again unless you were the one adjusting it around his neck with such quiet care and attention, standing close enough that he could feel your warmth.
Since you'd arrived a little late for breakfast, you were invited to join a table occupied by several older couples, all of them comfortably past the age of either of you.
Ever the gentleman he had been born to be, Sanji escorted you to your seat and pulled out your chair, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder as he helped you sit before taking the place beside you.
Trapped in endless small talk and snobbish fascination with gossip about other couples neither of you cared about in the slightest, you found yourself with little appetite.
Being watched so closely made you uncomfortable, and instead of eating, you merely picked at your breakfast.
Naturally, your fake future husband noticed immediately.
After carefully selecting a slice of prosciutto and ricotta and placing them atop a piece of toast, he cut off a bite-sized piece and held out the fork toward you.
“Here you are, my love. I can’t bear the thought of you going hungry.”
He looked at you with such attentiveness and affection that your heart skipped.
And somehow, despite the absurdity of trying to make you feel less self-conscious by drawing even more attention to you through pet names and hand-feeding, you found yourself loving him a little more for it.
Perhaps it was because, in Sanji’s eyes, you belonged at the center of every room.
It seemed as natural to him as sunflowers turning toward the sun no matter where it stood in the sky.
The way he always turned toward you.
Every eye at the table was now fixed on you as you blushed fiercely and obediently accepted the bite, chewing while staring determinedly at your plate and taking a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice to soothe your suddenly dry throat.
All the while, Sanji watched you unabashedly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before taking your left hand and brushing his lips softly across your knuckles.
“How adorable they are, don’t you think, Jacqueline?”
“A truly beautiful couple!”
An older woman adorned with pearls the size of apples and enough bright red lipstick for an entire theater troupe leaned toward you, immediately joined by the rest of the table.
"So," she asked brightly, "how long have you two been engaged?"
“I only gathered the courage to ask her the fateful question three months ago, on the anniversary of our relationship,” Sanji improvised effortlessly, already several chapters deep into a story that existed nowhere but in his head. “Though I bought the ring after only two weeks.”
He lowered another kiss to your hand.
“I knew she was the one for me.”
Several pairs of eyes immediately dropped to your left hand.
A collective gasp swept around the table.
“But where is the ring?!”
You grabbed Sanji’s arm and buried your face against his bicep.
“I’m sorry, darling! Just remembering it breaks my heart!” You dabbed at entirely imaginary tears. “My beloved gave me the most beautiful ring imaginable, but I…”
Everyone leaned closer.
“…I lost it on the beach we visited a month ago.”
Horrified gasps erupted from every direction.
“My darling,” Sanji said softly, brushing his fingertips across your cheek, “please don’t upset yourself. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”
He took your hand firmly and pressed a kiss into your palm.
“I’ve already hired people who claim they can find it. Besides…”
His gaze never left yours.
“I’ll buy you as many rings as necessary. You’re the only irreplaceable thing.”
The table practically melted.
As the conversation continued, you answered question after question, some silly, some surprisingly personal, yet somehow always arriving at the same answers without needing to think about it.
As though it had stopped being improvisation a long time ago.
Which, in truth, it had.
The older couples laughed when you both answered simultaneously to questions about who cooked more often, who was more likely to plan romantic dates, who apologized first after an argument, and who took longer to get ready in the morning.
“You’ve definitely been together long enough.”
The two of you merely exchanged a glance before breaking into matching laughter.
You really had.
The resort employee barely gave either of you a chance to protest before fastening bright wristbands around your wrists.
“Congratulations! You’ve been selected for our Lovers’ Lagoon Excursion. A complimentary glass-bottom boat tour for couples.”
The smile on your face froze. You pinched your “fiancé’s” arm, but he only lit up even more.
“…Oh,” you said weakly.
“How romantic!” the woman beamed. “The captain always reserves the front seats for newlyweds and soon-to-be-weds.”
“We’re not…”
“Thank you very much,” Sanji cut in with effortless grace, bowing just enough to preserve the illusion. “We’re honored. I can hardly wait to witness such breathtaking sights beside my beloved… assuming I’ll be able to see anything past her beauty.”
The employee clasped her hands together with a delighted sigh before hurrying off to greet the next unsuspecting couple.
You let out a long breath.
“…Wonderful.”
Sanji gently patted your shoulder.
“Come now. It’ll be nice.”
The boat drifted lazily across water so impossibly clear it scarcely looked real. Beneath the broad pane of glass stretching between the benches, schools of brilliantly colored tropical fish danced through coral gardens while graceful rays glided silently across the white sand below.
Around you, every other couple leaned close together, pointing excitedly beneath the boat or stopping to take photographs.
You and Sanji leaned together as well.
Just for entirely different reasons.
From this angle, the resort’s eastern shoreline lay in perfect view.
More importantly…
“Duchess of my heart and soul,” Sanji cooed loudly enough for the nearby tourists to hear, “look at that beautiful coral.”
You smiled shyly for the benefit of your audience, already resigned to his endless stream of pet names.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“But not nearly as gorgeous as you, my lovely queen.”
Without moving your lips, you murmured,
“Supply dock. Eleven o’clock.”
His gaze never visibly shifted.
“I see it.”
Beyond the decorative villas stood a modest concrete dock that hadn’t appeared on any of the guest maps. Two uniformed security guards watched the entrance while another pair stood beside a truck that had only just arrived.
Far too much security for towels and imported wine.
A forklift rolled forward carrying a long wooden crate wrapped in thick black plastic.
No company logos. No shipping labels.
Only a serial number stenciled across one side.
Several resort managers appeared almost immediately, abandoning whatever they had been doing to oversee its arrival personally. One signed paperwork while another inspected the perimeter before motioning everyone closer.
“Interesting,” you breathed.
Sanji rested an elbow casually against the boat’s railing, every bit the lovestruck fiancé admiring the scenery. And under any other circumstances, he would have been.
But at that moment, his focus was entirely on the mission, both for the sake of the crew and for yours. More than anything, he wanted to prove himself worthy of your trust. The kind of steadfast, capable knight who would never allow harm to come to you.
“Count them.”
“Four guards.”
“Five.”
You blinked.
A man dressed in the resort’s white linen uniform stood farther back, pretending to smoke while never taking his eyes off the crate.
The crate disappeared through a reinforced service entrance carved directly into the cliffs behind the dock.
The heavy doors sealed shut almost immediately afterward.
“…That’s excessive,” you muttered.
“For supplies?” Sanji agreed quietly. “Very.”
Neither of you spoke for several long moments.
It wasn’t proof.
Not yet.
But it was another collection of tiny details, each one slipping neatly into place, slowly completing the puzzle that lay at the heart of your mission.
The captain cheerfully announced that you were approaching the island’s most spectacular coral reef.
Around you, delighted couples leaned over the glass, marveling at the vibrant sea life below.
You reached for Sanji’s hand, sending such a violent flutter through his heart that he had to fight to keep it from showing on his face.
To anyone watching, it looked like nothing more than a tender gesture between devoted lovers.
Instead, your fingers pressed twice against his palm as you rested your head lightly against his shoulder.
We come back tonight.
His thumb brushed once across your knuckles in answer.
Agreed.
After what had seemed to you like an exhausting lovers’ excursion, though in truth it had been rather enjoyable thanks in no small part to your so-called fiancé, the two of you found yourselves about fifteen minutes away from the resort when Sanji noticed a narrow path leading down toward a beautiful stretch of beach, quieter and far less crowded than the others.
“Look, my love,” he said, gently taking your hand and nodding toward the little trail.
“We’ve still got some time,” he added, looking at you with those warm, hopeful eyes of his. The very same eyes that had always filled you with a quiet sense of safety whenever they found you during one of the countless dangerous situations your crew stumbled into, or during the quieter moments, when your own thoughts became your greatest enemy.
You forced yourself to tear your gaze away from him, pretending to examine the path instead.
“Trying to play hooky, darling?”
He grinned, and that endlessly beloved curled eyebrow of his arched.
“All I’m saying, my dearest, is that it would be a terrible shame to travel all this way only to spend our time investigating kitchens and wealthy old snobs.”
His eyes never left you, captivated by the way the breeze toyed with loose strands of your hair. “Besides, the greatest tragedy of all would be for this shoreline never to be blessed by your beauty. You deserve the chance to enjoy the sunshine and the sound of the waves without having to worry about Luffy catapulting himself into you at any given moment.”
You pretended to consider it, though in reality you were already longing to be alone with him, free from the watchful eyes of staff members, pretentious guests, and the constant expectation that you keep acting out a role you secretly wished were real.
“Let’s go,” you agreed. “I’m going to lose my mind if another ambush drags us into yet another painfully awkward ‘romantic adventure’ with dozens of other couples.”
A tranquil panorama of turquoise sea unfolded before you, and the empty shore, blissfully free of lurking waiters or overeager resort employees, filled you with an indescribable sense of peace.
Just the gentle rhythm of the waves, the warm sand beneath your feet…
…and your fake fiancé.
Deciding to make the most of the beautiful scenery before you, you slipped off your sandals, gathered your dress above your knees, and wandered slowly across the warm sand toward the shallow water.
Sanji soon joined you, relieving you of your sandals under the pretense that he’d carry them so you could simply enjoy yourself without worrying about anything else.
You stepped into the water until it reached your ankles, cool enough to make you draw in a sharp breath and let out a tiny startled sound.
He couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips.
You were simply too adorable.
Catching him from the corner of your eye, you flicked a playful splash of water his way.
He stared at you in exaggerated disbelief.
“Just one moment, my dear.”
To your confusion, he hurried back onto the beach instead of retaliating. He carefully placed both his shoes and your sandals together on the sand before draping his jacket neatly over them to keep them out of the sun. Only then did he return.
“I could’ve just tossed them aside,” he said with a smile, “but I’d never treat your lovely things so carelessly, Y/N-swan.”
Then he gently splashed you back.
A soft gasp escaped you before you waded forward as gracefully as one could through knee-deep water—which wasn’t particularly graceful at all—and sent a much larger splash flying in his direction before darting away.
The Straw Hat cook laughed and gave chase, sweeping his arm through the water with enough force that the spray drenched not only you but the upper half of your dress and even your hair. You squeezed one eye shut, trying desperately to keep the saltwater out of it.
“Sanji!” you cried.
He froze.
“My sweetest darling, how horribly clumsy of me!” he exclaimed, immediately launching into an avalanche of apologies. “Absolutely inexcusable! You simply must forgive me. I never intended for my uncivilized, caveman-like behavior to offend such a lovely and noble lady as yourself…”
Completely swept away by his own dramatic speech and looking seconds away from genuine tears, the blond cook was abruptly interrupted when you retaliated with a spectacular splash that soaked him from his trousers all the way to the damp blond bangs now plastered over both eyes.
Silence lingered for exactly one heartbeat.
Then, laughing, he caught your wrist and gently drew you closer.
“My love,” he said between chuckles, “I had no idea you were such a little minx. You truly frightened me.”
Still laughing, he retaliated with several gentle splashes of his own.
“As ungentlemanly as it may be, I’ll claim at least the smallest measure of revenge.”
He tried stepping back to avoid your next attack, but because he was still holding your wrist, he accidentally pulled you toward him. Instinctively, he caught you before you could stumble into the water, leaving you pressed against his soaked chest instead.
For a single suspended moment, neither of you breathed.
You could feel each other’s hearts racing, frantic against your chests like woodpeckers determined to hammer straight through your ribs until they traded places.
Your eyes met.
The afternoon sun wrapped a golden halo around him, deepening the impossible blue of Sanji’s eyes and illuminating the quiet kindness that had always lived inside them.
For one impossible instant, you thought you’d never seen him look more beautiful.
The sight left you utterly frozen, and the only thing sparing you from complete embarrassment was the fact that he seemed every bit as captivated by you.
Perhaps even more.
He noticed nothing except your long eyelashes, the softness of your hair as the sea breeze carried one stray strand across your face, hiding part of one eye.
Almost unconsciously, Sanji lifted a hand and, with infinite care, tucked the strand gently behind your ear, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek and the curve of your jaw.
Your heart leapt yet again, somehow finding room to race even faster than before.
Meanwhile, he found himself staring at your slightly parted lips, still damp from seawater and from the way you’d been biting them between bursts of laughter.
In a desperate attempt to save yourself from what felt like an imminent heart attack, you suddenly splashed the right side of his chest and bolted forward.
Your laughter echoed across the empty beach as two hopelessly lovestruck grown children chased each other through the surf, their carefree shouts carried away by the wind.
When you finally stopped to catch your breath, both of you breathing a little harder from the running and laughing, you found yourselves gazing out over the deeper water shimmering beneath the late afternoon sun.
Sanji reached for your hand.
As though he’d read your thoughts, he raised one eyebrow and nodded toward the open sea.
“We’re already soaked anyway, my love.”
You looked at him, and for one dangerously tempting moment, you nearly gave in.
The afternoon remained pleasantly warm, and the cool water would have been wonderful. Even the splashing had already done wonders.
Still, you hesitated.
“I’m not sure that’s a convincing enough argument,” you replied. “Besides… we didn’t bring swimsuits.”
“I fail to see how that’s stopping us.”
He paused before adding more gently, “Of course, my dear, we won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I only suggested it because it’s painfully obvious you’ve been dying to dive in. You’ve been looking at the horizon rather pleadingly for quite a while now.”
Touched by how effortlessly he’d read you, you still let out an indignant little huff.
“I never look pleadingly at anything.”
Five minutes later, the two of you were swimming toward deeper water.
You’d quickly left your clothes folded on the shore so you could move more freely, and Sanji had kept his back turned the entire time while you changed, despite the fact that there was hardly any difference between your underwear and a swimsuit. If anything, depending on the design, some underwear was arguably less revealing.
Besides, after everything you’d been through together, you’d already seen one another in every conceivable state.
Even so, out of respect for you, your fake future husband wanted to offer you every bit of privacy he possibly could.
As you swam farther from shore, sometimes splashing one another, sometimes racing, other times playfully brushing a hand against the other’s leg before insisting it had probably been some mysterious sea creature, you both found yourselves wishing this holiday would never end.
A quiet melancholy seeped into the cracks of your hearts, reminding you that this adventure had an inevitable ending…
…and that every beautiful moment between you was still, at least officially, nothing more than make-believe.
When you finally emerged from the water, utterly drenched after staying in until your skin had begun to wrinkle, you both collapsed onto the sand before you.
Perhaps not the wisest decision, considering how much you hated grains sticking to wet skin, but this wasn’t the time to be fussy.
Lying there side by side, gazing up at the endless sky, you slipped into one of those rare, beautiful silences where words truly felt unnecessary.
Closing your eyes, you basked in the warmth of the sun, content to let yourselves dry a little beneath its gentle rays.
Even with your eyes shut, a faint smile played across your lips.
Sanji watched you.
Again.
For what was surely not the first time, nor the last.
Completely captivated by a sight he could have watched forever, if only you would let him.
Knowing there wasn’t enough sunlight left for either of you to dry completely, you eventually decided that “mostly dry” would have to do and began brushing the sand from your legs.
“Hey there, little troublemaker,” your “fiancé” laughed. “You don’t have to shake all of it onto me.”
Then he noticed a spot you’d missed.
Without thinking, he reached down and gently brushed the remaining sand from your leg.
His hand froze for the briefest moment as he realized what he’d done.
“…Thank you,” you murmured shyly before standing.
Walking back toward your clothes side by side, your little fingers brushing together every now and then without either of you quite meaning them to, you noticed beautiful seashells scattered along the shoreline.
You bent down several times to pick up the ones you liked most before continuing on.
A few moments later, once you’d reached your things, Sanji draped his jacket over your still-damp dress, the only piece of clothing that had remained almost completely dry.
“It’s getting a little breezy now. Better this than catching cold, my love.”
He opened his palm to reveal several seashells.
They were even prettier than the ones you’d collected yourself.
“For your collection,” he said with a smile, slipping them into the front pocket of his jacket where it hung around your shoulders.
You immediately added your own shells beside them.
“Thank you, Sanji.”
Your smile lit up his entire world.
“That’s really sweet of you.”
Then, before you could overthink it, you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
Warmth rushed over the cook so suddenly that it spread all the way across the bridge of his nose, enough that anyone passing by might have assumed he’d simply spent too long in the afternoon sun.
At the insistence of your so-called future husband, the two of you climbed a small hill overlooking the beach.
It was close enough that you could easily wander back into the sea if you wished, yet far enough away to admire the coastline from an entirely different perspective while enjoying a conversation that seemed determined never to end, drifting effortlessly from one topic to the next.
One last quiet indulgence before returning to the resort.
By some miracle, only the occasional passerby wandered through your little sanctuary, never enough to disturb the peaceful corner you’d found for yourselves.
As Sanji recounted one of his adventures aboard the Baratie, back when he was still inexperienced and Zeff had only just begun teaching him to fight with his legs, an exceptionally beautiful tourist strolled past.
He smiled politely and dipped his head in greeting.
But he never interrupted his story.
The very next second, his eyes returned to you as though they had nowhere else they’d rather be.
You stared after the woman, waiting in silent disbelief.
Surely…
Surely there would be some kind of reaction.
But none ever came.
Instead, Sanji stood up and began demonstrating one of the kicks Zeff had taught him as a boy, using a nearby rock as his unfortunate volunteer.
The next interruption came when another beautiful young woman approached and shyly asked if he would mind taking a photograph of her by the sea.
“Of course.”
He took the picture, immediately handed the camera back, and politely offered to take another if she wasn’t satisfied with the first.
Then he returned without delay, sat back down beside you, and continued your conversation.
No shameless flirting.
No hearts in his eyes.
No dramatic declarations about the extraordinary honor of immortalizing such breathtaking beauty in a photograph.
Unable to let that pass without a comment, you nudged him playfully.
“You’re starting to slack off.”
“Hm?”
“Usually you’d have proposed marriage by now.”
He blinked, genuinely confused.
“…Would I?”
You laughed.
“Absolutely.”
He scratched the back of his neck.
“…I suppose my attention was elsewhere.”
The beach had grown quieter as afternoon drifted toward evening. The tide had crept farther inland, erasing the footprints the two of you had left behind barely an hour ago, while the sea, calm and endlessly blue, breathed against the shore in slow, rhythmic sighs.
You watched it in silence, absently turning a smooth seashell over between your fingers.
“I’ve been wondering something,” you said at last.
Sanji, who had been skipping flat stones across the water with steadily improving success, glanced back over his shoulder.
“Hm?”
“What do you think happens after?”
A faint crease appeared between his brows.
“After what?”
“After all of this. When Luffy becomes King of the Pirates, when you find the All Blue. When all of us finally achieve the dreams that set us on this long journey in the first place.”
You smiled, and for a moment only the waves answered your question.
Sanji came to sit beside you again, resting his forearms on his knees as he looked out across the water. A small smile touched his lips.
“I think…” He drew a slow breath, as though the answer surprised even him. “I’d like to build something that lasts.”
You turned toward him.
“A restaurant?”
“Maybe.”
His eyes never left the horizon.
“Nothing grand. Just a place where people know they’ll always find a good meal, no matter who they are or how much money they've got.” A quiet chuckle escaped him. “Somewhere Zeff would spend every day complaining I’m doing everything wrong while secretly praising me and stealing my food whenever he thinks I’m not looking.”
You laughed, the picture so vivid you could almost see it.
“I’d visit.”
“I should hope so.”
He looked at you then, warmth softening every line of his expression until it settled deep in your chest.
“I’d rather not imagine a future where you’re somewhere far away, beyond my reach… somewhere I could only admire you from a distance instead of enjoying your company.”
You looked back at him, quietly moved.
“I think…” Lowering your eyes, you traced slow circles in the sand with the tip of the shell. “My dream isn’t all that different. I don’t think I’d spend my life chasing the next great adventure. Knowing me, it’d probably find me anyway.” A faint smile curved your lips. “I’d want something steady. Something dependable.”
“Dependable?”
“A place where you don’t wake up wondering whether you’ll have to leave tomorrow.”
There was an old sadness woven gently into your smile.
“Somewhere safe. Somewhere you belong. Somewhere the people you love are waiting for you at the end of the day... and you know they’ll still be there the next morning.”
The sea carried your words away before either of you spoke again.
“I suppose that’s a rather ordinary dream.”
“No,” Sanji said softly, threading his fingers through yours.
“It’s mine too.”
When you looked at him, there was something impossibly gentle in his eyes.
“I think it’s the rarest dream of all.”
The corners of your mouth lifted before you could stop them.
“You do?”
“I do.”
His gaze drifted back to the horizon, where the sun had already begun its slow descent toward the sea.
“People spend their lives chasing extraordinary things.” His voice had grown quieter now, thoughtful in a way you rarely heard from him. “They cross oceans searching for treasure, glory, fame… and somehow forget that, in the end, what most of them really want is exactly what you just described.”
He smiled softly.
“A home.”
The word settled warmly between you.
“A place where you're accepted and loved unconditionally, exactly as you are.”
Neither of you noticed how naturally the conversation had become our dream instead of yours or his alone.
After a comfortable silence, you turned toward him with a small smile.
“You’ve been smiling a lot today.”
He looked almost surprised.
“So have you.”
“I have?”
“You have.” A quiet laugh escaped him. “You don’t usually seem this… light.”
Your eyes wandered back to the shimmering sea, where the waves sparkled beneath the lowering sun.
“I suppose none of this feels entirely real.”
“What doesn’t?”
You gestured toward the empty beach, the endless water stretching before you, the lazy hours that had slipped by unnoticed...
...your fingers still intertwined.
“…Us.”
For a long moment, he simply watched the waves.
Then, wearing a smile so small it seemed meant only for himself, he said,
“I used to imagine days like this.”
His thumb brushed absentmindedly across the back of your hand.
“But somehow they always felt unfinished. Like something essential was missing, and no matter how I pictured them, I could never quite reach the ending that made them whole.”
His eyes finally met yours.
“I think I forgot that even the simplest moments become extraordinary when they’re shared with the right person.”
Your fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the shell, while his thumb continued tracing lazy patterns across your palm.
Neither of you spoke after that.
There was nothing left to say that the sea hadn’t already understood.
After the sun’s golden rays began melting across the blue sky, slowly deepening into shades of amber and crimson, the two of you realized just how completely you’d lost track of time.
What had been meant as a brief escape had quietly become an entire afternoon filled with moments you both feared would one day exist only as memories.
The walk back was still wrapped in that same easy contentment, though now tinged with quiet melancholy as the perfect afternoon slowly drew to its close.
Sanji insisted on carrying both his shoes and yours, and had stubbornly taken your bag as well despite your repeated assurances that it was hardly heavy.
You couldn’t help watching him as he walked beside you barefoot, blond hair still tousled and damp with saltwater, his trousers only half rolled back down, his shirt rumpled and not quite buttoned properly anymore. The elegant shoulder bag looked almost absurd slung across his shoulder, while your heels and his own shoes balanced precariously from the fingers of one hand.
Somehow, the sight made your heart ache in the sweetest way.
Every glance at him sent another warm flutter through your chest, until the corners of your mouth refused to stay still.
The hotel soon came into view and with it came the return of reality.
But Sanji noticed something before either of you reached the entrance.
A service cart rolled away from the kitchens, disappearing along a narrow stone path no ordinary guest ever used.
At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about it.
Silver cloches gleamed beneath crisp white linen, bottles of wine rested in polished ice buckets, and a waiter pushed the cart with practiced composure.
Yet Sanji’s pace slowed almost imperceptibly.
“That’s dinner.”
You looked at him.
“For Villa Twelve?”
His eyes never left the cart.
“…Earlier than yesterday.”
In that instant, the beach, the laughter, the sea… everything vanished.
You were back on the mission.
After a brief exchange, you both came to the same conclusion.
Three days of careful observation had given you enough information to risk something bolder.
The atmosphere changed the moment you stepped beyond the resort’s public gardens.
The cheerful bustle faded behind you, replaced by a silence so complete that even your own footsteps suddenly felt intrusive.
This secluded wing had clearly been designed for guests who valued discretion above all else.
The pathways narrowed into winding stone corridors bordered by immaculate flowerbeds and towering hedges trimmed with almost obsessive precision, while elegant lanterns stood at measured intervals beneath old cypress trees, their glass panes already beginning to glow against the approaching dusk.
There were remarkably few guests.
Far more security.
Two guards stood at the entrance to the private lane, speaking quietly before one wandered toward the shoreline. Another strolled through the gardens with practiced indifference, casual enough that it took only a moment to realize he wasn’t wandering at all.
He was observing everything.
Sanji noticed it immediately.
Without appearing to look directly at anyone, his gaze drifted from one guard to the next, lingering only long enough to judge the rhythm of their patrols before moving on to the nearest exits, the balconies overlooking the gardens, the servants’ entrances concealed behind flowering vines, and the narrow footpaths leading back toward the main resort.
Watching him work was strangely mesmerizing.
Barely an hour ago he’d been laughing as the waves chased the two of you across the sand, earnestly insisting the oddly shaped shell in his pocket looked exactly like a rabbit.
Now every trace of that carefree afternoon had disappeared beneath quiet competence.
He moved with the same relaxed confidence as before, even pausing once to admire an orchid blooming beside the path, though you knew perfectly well it was only an excuse to slow your pace and observe without drawing attention.
It reminded you, not for the first time, that Sanji had always been far sharper than people gave him credit for.
The service cart eventually disappeared through a discreet entrance behind one of the largest villas.
Villa Twelve.
You remained outside the surrounding hedges, careful to keep enough distance that anyone glancing through the windows would see nothing more suspicious than another couple enjoying an evening stroll.
For several long moments…
Nothing happened.
Then voices drifted through the open French doors, carried by the evening breeze in broken fragments.
“…tomorrow…”
“…midnight…”
“…Dock Seven…”
“…bring the Eternal Pose…”
“…the buyer sails before dawn…”
The words alone were enough to quicken your pulse.
Another voice, lower this time, answered too quietly for either of you to distinguish before one final sentence floated through the silence.
“…no witnesses.”
You instinctively leaned forward.
Sanji’s eyes met yours.
The exchange lasted only a heartbeat, but the conclusion was immediate.
It wasn’t everything.
But it was enough to understand what was about to happen.
Yet one question still lingered.
Who was behind it?
Tilting your head almost imperceptibly toward the open window hidden between the stone walls, you silently suggested getting just a little closer.
Perhaps one more sentence would give you the name you were missing.
Sanji followed your gaze before giving the secluded garden one careful sweep.
“I’m not convinced that’s our smartest move,” he murmured.
“If we don’t, the name slips away.”
You were already moving before he could argue further.
With practiced agility, you climbed onto the low stone wall bordering the villa, steadying yourself with one hand while Sanji remained below, quietly keeping watch over the courtyard.
From there, the voices carried just a little more clearly, though still frustratingly incomplete. You strained to catch another sentence before it vanished beneath the rustling leaves.
It would have worked.
It almost did.
Only your feet were still damp from the sea.
The smooth stone offered far less grip than you’d expected.
Your footing slipped without warning.
The sudden loss of balance sent you pitching backward, barely managing to swallow your startled gasp.
You never reached the ground.
Strong arms caught you before gravity could.
The force drove Sanji back a step, his grip instinctively tightening around your waist as he steadied both of you against the wall.
But the damage had already been done.
Inside the villa every voice fell silent.
The conversation stopped so abruptly that the ringing quiet felt louder than the words themselves.
A heartbeat later came the scrape of chairs.
Then hurried footsteps.
“Someone’s out there.”
The French doors flew open.
Guards spilled into the gardens carrying lanterns, their lights sweeping methodically across the hedges, pathways, and flowerbeds.
There was no alarm.
No shouting.
Only the measured caution of men unwilling to ignore even the faintest disturbance.
Sanji didn’t hesitate.
One arm stayed firmly around your waist as he guided, almost carried, you toward a narrow recess hidden behind a thick stone partition, concealed from the garden by climbing ivy and carefully sculpted hedges.
The space was scarcely wide enough for two people.
It forced your bodies together.
Lantern light drifted slowly across the courtyard only a few yards away.
He shifted just enough to place himself fully between you and the opening, broad shoulders shielding you completely should anyone glance into the passageway.
His eyes never left the searching guards.
They were sharp, unwavering, though when they flickered toward you for the briefest instant, the determination in them softened into something infinitely gentler.
“We have what we need,” he breathed so quietly you almost felt the words instead of hearing them.
“Whatever we're still missing… it isn't worth risking you.”
Your heart stumbled.
Before you could answer, one of the guards changed direction.
The lantern beam swept across the hedge.
Closer.
You heard the steady crunch of boots against gravel, every footstep impossibly loud in the suffocating silence.
Then you caught the scent before you saw him.
Salt carried inland on the evening breeze, mingling with expensive cologne as the guard stopped scarcely a few feet away.
Instinctively, both of you pressed even deeper into the narrow hiding place until there seemed to be no space left between your bodies.
Your forehead rested against Sanji’s chest.
One hand clutched the front of his shirt.
His arm remained securely around your waist, holding you so firmly you scarcely dared breathe.
Beneath your cheek, his heartbeat was steady, strong, almost impossibly calm compared to the frantic rhythm pounding inside your own chest.
Seconds stretched into what felt like entire minutes.
The guard lingered, lantern raised, eyes sweeping slowly over the hedges before finally lowering the light with an irritated sigh.
“Must’ve been a cat.”
His footsteps gradually faded.
Neither of you moved.
Not immediately.
You stayed exactly where you were until the last glow of the lantern disappeared behind the villa and the muffled conversation resumed inside.
Only then did Sanji allow himself a slow breath.
Only then did you realize you’d been holding yours.
Several more minutes passed before either of you dared leave your hiding place.
Silently, you retraced your steps through the gardens, leaving Villa Twelve behind exactly as quietly as you’d come.
It wasn't until the familiar paths leading back toward the hotel opened before you that the tension finally begin to unravel.
Your pulse was still racing when an unexpected laugh escaped you.
Not because anything had been funny, but because the adrenaline had nowhere else to go.
“That was… entirely too close.”
Sanji let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair before looking you over from head to toe, as though reassuring himself you were truly unharmed.
“Far too close, my dear.”
You lowered your eyes.
Embarrassment settled heavily in your stomach.
“I almost got us caught.”
He stopped so abruptly you had no choice but to stop with him.
“Almost.”
He took your hand as naturally as though he’d been doing it for years, his thumb tracing slow circles across your knuckles.
“But we still walked away with exactly what we needed, my love”
“I still compromised the mission.”
“You kept your head,” he said gently. “And we both got out.”
You shook your head.
“You were the one who got us out.”
A smile found its way back to his face, softer than the playful grin he’d worn only hours earlier on the beach.
“That’s exactly why we make such a good team.”
As he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your gaze caught something that made your own smile vanish almost instantly.
A thin crimson line crossed his palm.
You caught his hand before he could lower it.
“Sanji…”
He blinked.
Only then did he seem to notice the shallow cut.
It wasn’t deep, though fresh blood still welled slowly from where the rough edge of the stone wall had caught him while pulling you safely out of sight.
He gave a small shrug.
“I suppose I was in a hurry.”
You carefully wrapped your fingers around his hand, making sure not to reopen the wound.
“I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
A fond smile softened your voice.
“Come on. Let’s get back to the room so I can patch this up properly.”
He didn’t argue.
Your hands remained intertwined all the way back through the hotel lobby, where you arrived windswept, slightly disheveled, and still carrying stubborn traces of sand from your afternoon by the sea.
Judging by the knowing smiles exchanged among the reception staff…
You looked every bit like a young couple returning from an impulsive seaside adventure.
Neither of you made any effort to correct them.
When you finally made it back to your room, you insisted that Sanji shower first.
He was practically glowing from the simple fact that you were fussing over him, and although he protested halfheartedly, there was no disguising how delighted he was by the attention.
While he was still drying his hair, he quickly slipped into the pajama bottoms before you walked into the bathroom to retrievie the first-aid kit from the shelf.
Gently taking his injured hand into yours once more, you examined the shallow cut with quiet concentration.
After carefully cleaning it with an antibiotic tincture, you wrapped his palm in a fresh bandage before finally letting go of his hand once you were satisfied with your work.
There was something almost unbearably intimate about the moment.
Sanji couldn’t take his eyes off you.
The thought that you were caring for him so tenderly had completely undone him.
He watched you with a smile so bright it could have rivaled the stars outside before admiring the neat bandage once you’d finished.
“Thank you, my wonderful Y/N-swan!”
He lifted your hand, pressing a grateful kiss against the back of it only moments after it had been tending to his injury.
“I’ll pack our things while you take a shower. I know you hate the feeling of salt on your skin, and you’ve probably been waiting for this all day.”
After lingering in the shower far longer than you meant to, wondering what tomorrow would mean for the two of you, you dried your hair, finished your evening skincare routine, and slipped into your nightgown before stepping out onto the balcony.
Tomorrow would most likely return everything to the way it had always been.
Back to the familiar and painful routine where all the affection you’d found yourself quietly cherishing these past few days would once again be divided equally between you, the women on the crew, and every beautiful stranger who happened to cross Sanji’s path.
Waiting for you outside was your wonderful fake fiancé, a steaming cup of your favorite tea already in his hands.
Somehow, while you’d been showering, he’d even managed to arrange dessert.
With unmistakable pride, he explained that he’d prepared it yesterday and convinced one of the cooks he’d befriended the night before to bring it up at just the right time.
“You’re unbelievable,” you said with a smile, savoring the sweet dessert as the cool evening breeze drifted across the terrace.
Above you stretched a sky scattered with countless stars, the kind that had always left you caught somewhere between awe at the vastness of the universe and an indescribable loneliness that seemed to accompany it.
“My love… something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
Sanji’s thumb absentmindedly stroked the back of your hand as he searched your face with quiet concern.
Very little ever escaped his notice.
You met his eyes for only a moment before looking away again.
“It’s nothing,” you murmured. “I’m just tired.”
He nodded in queit understanding, though the small smile he offered carried a hint of sadness.
“Our little love mission ended far too quickly.”
He fell silent for a moment, lost in thought.
“…It wasn’t enough.”
You looked at him, puzzled.
You’d fully expected that tomorrow morning he’d be twirling around the Sunny with tears streaming down his face as he proclaimed how much he’d missed Nami and Robin, probably propelled into the air by another spectacular nosebleed the instant he laid eyes on your beautiful crewmates again.
Perhaps he’d have enjoyed this hotel infinitely more if he’d been paired with one of them instead.
Perhaps he’d even have been happier.
And yet here he was, thanking you with the same sincerity he would have shown any woman, even one who’d tricked him into walking straight into the jaws of a Sea King.
Because that was simply who Sanji was.
He had never been capable of denying a woman a kind word, no matter who she was..
Not even someone like you.
“Yeah…” You smiled faintly. “It really was a surprisingly fun mission. Almost like a vacation.”
Your fingers tightened slightly around your teacup.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get sent here with one of the girls instead. You probably would’ve solved everything much faster, and then the two of you could’ve actually enjoyed the rest of your stay.”
His brows knitted together in immediate confusion.
“I don't agree with that in the slightest.”
He looked genuinely bewildered.
“And no one could’ve handled this mission better than you, Y/N-swan.”
You didn’t answer.
Instead, you quietly steered the conversation elsewhere.
“You’ve been surprisingly well-behaved these past few days.”
He smiled, though concern still lingered behind it.
“I suppose.”
“It must’ve been difficult.”
“Difficult?”
“Resisting the urge to compromise the mission by declaring your love to every beautiful woman in the hotel.” A tiny smile tugged at your lips. “Though, to be fair, most of them seemed to be taken.”
“No.”
“No asking anyone to marry you?”
“…No.”
Then, hoping to coax a smile from you, he added with unmistakable fondness,
“I’m already marrying you.”
You looked at him.
“…Why?”
He blinked.
“…Why?”
“Was it only because of the mission?” you asked quietly. “Or did a miracle happen and every woman here simply wasn't your type?”
Silence settled between you.
Then, with complete honesty and growing concern, he answered,
“What? No… Where is all this coming from?”
“You’ve always flirted,” you said, offering a small smile that never quite reached your eyes. “Even when the woman in question was trying to kill us, you could never help yourself.”
Your gaze drifted toward the stars.
“But these past few days…”
You swallowed.
“You stopped.”
You looked back at him.
“Or rather… You just acted the way ordinary people flirt.”
The words lingered between you.
Your conscience twisted painfully at the thought of hurting someone as kind—and as hopeless—as Sanji.
“It’s not your fault,” you added quietly. “This is entirely my own doing.”
You let out a slow breath.
“I just… couldn’t stop myself from wishing that everything you said to me… everything you did… every nickname… every compliment… every small kindness…”
Your voice faltered.
“Some part of me convinced itself they were genuine.”
You forced yourself to continue.
“That they were meant only for me.”
A lump rose painfully in your throat.
“Even though I know that’s simply who you are... I know none of it was supposed to mean anything.”
A small, broken smile crossed your lips.
“But no matter how many times I told myself that…”
You looked into his eyes.
“…I couldn’t make my heart believe it.”
The ocean breeze stirred the loose strands of blond hair that had fallen across Sanji’s forehead, but he made no move to brush them aside.
A cigarette rested between his fingers, little more than a habit at this point.
He had lit it minutes ago, yet it had burned almost untouched, thin ribbons of smoke dissolving into the night air while his attention remained fixed entirely on you.
An unbearable silence settled between you.
If someone had been standing close enough, perhaps they could’ve heard the quiet sound of Sanji’s heart breaking.
She truly believes she isn’t special to me.
The thought alone made him feel sick.
After everything he’d tried to show you over the past four days, after every careful gesture and every quiet effort to make you see yourself through his eyes, you still believed you were simply another woman he’d been kind to.
Somehow, he had led you to believe the exact opposite of the truth.
When, in reality, you were the most extraordinary person in the world to him.
The only one.
A sad, disbelieving smile tugged at his lips as he struggled to understand how such a painful misunderstanding had ever been allowed to grow between you.
“You really think I’ve spent all these years treating you the same as everyone else?”
You gave the smallest nod.
“I don’t know.”
A tired smile touched your lips.
“Usualy... You compliment beautiful women you meet. You make people laugh. You make complete strangers feel as though they’ve known you forever.”
His brows drew together almost imperceptibly.
“But sometimes I wonder if you even realize how effortlessly you do it.”
Your eyes locked with his.
“You make everyone feel special, Sanji...”
Your voice trembled.
“So how was I supposed to know that I was?”
You paused, feeling both lighter for finally speaking the words aloud and infinitely guiltier for the sorrow reflected in the beautiful blue eyes you’d grown to love so much.
“You look at people as though they matter,” you whispered. “And after years of watching that… I started wondering if the way you looked at me was simply another expression of the same kindness.”
The silence that followed was almost unbearable.
“So tell me, Sanji…”
You folded your arms, more to keep your hands from trembling than to shield yourself.
“How am I supposed to believe that what you’re saying now is any different?”
Your voice softened.
“How am I to know that, if someone else had been sent here with you instead of me…you wouldn’t have looked at her exactly the same way? Said the same things, smiled the same smile.”
You searched his face.
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
You laughed softly, though there wasn't an ounce of amusement in the sound.
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’ve spent so many years making everyone around you feel special…”
Your eyes shimmered.
“…that I never knew whether I truly was.”
Something in his expression faltered.
Not dramatically.
His shoulders, which had remained stubbornly squared throughout the conversation, finally eased, as though he had at last understood what had been hurting you all along.
He crossed the small distance between you with slow, careful steps, moving gently enough that you could still have walked away had you wanted to.
He didn’t reach for your hand immediately.
Instead, he searched your face with a tenderness that made it painfully difficult to look anywhere else.
“So that’s what you’ve been hearing all this time,” he murmured, his voice heavy with quiet sorrow.
Your brow furrowed.
“When I tell another woman she’s beautiful…” he continued softly, “…you think I’m saying the same thing I’m trying to tell you.”
“Aren’t you?”
A faint, melancholy smile touched his lips before disappearing almost as quickly as it had come.
“No.”
The answer was so simple that it almost frustrated you.
“...No?”
“I flirt,” he admitted without shame. “I always have. I’ll try to rein it in a little more than I usually do…” A tiny, self-conscious smile flickered across his face. “Though I suspect there'll always be at least a little of it left.”
His gaze softened.
“It’s part of who I am, and I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise.”
His fingers twitched at his side before he finally gathered the courage to reach for your hand.
He held it as though it were made of glass.
As though he feared you might pull away at any moment.
Lifting it carefully, he rested your hand over his chest.
Beneath your palm, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“But flirting ends the moment I walk away.”
His thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles across your knuckles.
“What I feel for you follows me everywhere.”
Your breath caught.
“I can tell a stranger she’s beautiful because beauty deserves to be admired.”
His eyes never once left yours.
“Then she leaves, and I go on with my day.”
A quiet, self-deprecating laugh escaped him.
“But you…”
He shook his head, as though words had suddenly become inadequate.
“You stay.”
His fingers closed around yours just a little tighter.
Beneath your hand, his heartbeat quickened.
“You stay in my thoughts when I’m cooking because I wonder whether you’d enjoy what I’m making. You stay whenever I pass a bookstore because I catch myself thinking about which novel you’d disappear into for hours. I hear a joke and instinctively think, ‘She’d roll her eyes at that.’”
He smiled to himself.
“And whenever we’re apart, I can’t stop wondering whether you need help with something, even though I know perfectly well you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. It still eats at me that I can’t simply run to you if you ever needed me.”
The corners of his eyes softened.
“Every little thing about you is engraved somewhere in my heart. I know exactly how you take your coffee. I know how often you drink it and at what time of day.”
A smile warmed his face.
“I always find myself wandering back into the kitchen whenever there’s a storm because I know you can’t sleep, and sooner or later you’ll sneak in looking for something warm to drink… secretly hoping, though you’d never admit it, that someone might keep you company.”
He looked at you with indescribable affection.
“I know you pretend not to like people fussing over you because it embarrasses you, when in truth every little kindness fills your heart.”
“I know you always leave the last piece of food in case someone else wanted it... I know the difference between your real smile and the one you wear when you’re telling everyone you’re fine.”
His own voice had begun to waver.
“Do you really think I’d notice all of that about everyone?”
His now-empty hand lingered near the ashtray, unconsciously searching for the cigarette he’d forgotten moments ago before falling still again.
Your eyes burned with tears.
“So when we were separated during the investigation…”
He gave a small, breathless laugh.
“I wasn’t wondering whether the receptionist smiled back at me.”
His gaze never left yours.
“I was wondering whether you’d remembered to eat lunch.”
He stepped a little closer, leaving barely enough space for the evening breeze to pass between you.
“If Nami had been sent with me…”
You nodded.
“I would’ve protected her.”
“If Robin had been sent…”
Another nod.
“I would’ve protected her too.”
“If it had been Vivi… Rebecca… any woman in this world…”
He smiled sadly.
“I would’ve complimented them. I would’ve played the devoted fiancé because that’s what the mission required.”
His voice dropped to little more than a whisper.
“But every night, when we came back to that room…”
You had never seen him look so vulnerable.
“…I would’ve been counting the days until it was over.”
Silence settled gently between you as his thumb continued its slow circles over your hand.
“But with you…”
The smallest smile appeared.
“I kept wishing we’d been given one more day.”
He let out a quiet laugh.
“Pretending you were mine…”
His eyes shimmered.
“…made me happier than I’ve ever been.”
His gaze searched yours, stripped of every trace of theatrical charm.
“You can doubt my judgment.”
A rueful smile tugged at his lips.
“God knows I’ve given you enough reasons to.”
“You can doubt my timing...”
He looked down for a moment.
“I’ve waited far too long to tell you any of this. I should’ve found the courage years ago instead of foolishly hoping you’d somehow notice on your own.”
He drew a slow, unsteady breath.
“But don’t ever convince yourself that what I feel for you is the same as the compliments I scatter to the wind.”
Almost hesitantly, he reached up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
The gentleness of the gesture made your chest ache.
“You may doubt the stars if you wish. Doubt the sea beneath our feet. Doubt every foolish promise I’ve ever made...”
He rested his forehead lightly against yours.
“But never doubt this.”
His voice was scarcely louder than the breeze.
“I love you.”
He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment before smiling, almost in disbelief.
“And if these last four days have taught me anything… it’s that once pretending stopped feeling like pretending… there wasn’t another person in this world I wanted beside me but you.”
He swallowed.
“I’d choose you.”
A faint, almost embarrassed smile.
“Tomorrow. The day after. For as long as you’d let me.”
Tears streamed freely down both your faces.
You had never imagined happiness could hurt this much.
You wanted to answer him.
You wanted to tell him everything.
Instead, all that escaped your lips was a trembling whisper.
“Sanji…”
“Yes, my love?” he answered immediately. “I’m so sorry… I should’ve told you sooner. I just—”
Unable to bear the distance between you for another heartbeat, you silenced him the only way you knew how.
You rose onto your toes and gently pressed your lips against those of the man who, by now, you could finally call your boyfriend.
For a heartbeat, the world stood perfectly still.
Sanji remained utterly frozen. Not because he didn’t know what to do.
But because after years of quietly loving you, after days spent pretending this moment belonged to him, his happiest dream had become real so suddenly that his heart needed a second to believe it.
Before you could pull away, his hands found your waist with infinite care, as though you were something precious entrusted to him rather than something he dared claim as his own.
He pulled you just a little closer.
The kiss lingered.
Soft. Unhurried. Tender beyond words.
He kissed you with astonishing patience, as though hurrying even a single heartbeat might somehow wake him from the happiest dream he had ever known.
It felt as though every tightly folded corner of your heart, kept closed for years by fear and uncertainty, slowly unfurled beneath the warmth of his lips until there was nothing left to protect.
Nothing left to doubt.
You bloomed before him as naturally as a flower turning toward the first light of spring, and in that quiet moment you understood, with breathtaking certainty, that this was what home had always been meant to feel like.
Eventually, the night drew to a close.
A night the two of you would remember for the rest of your lives.
One you would return to again and again, years from now, with the same fond smiles and quiet certainty that, somehow, everything had begun here.
Your cheeks ached from smiling.
Happiness coursed through your veins with an almost dizzying intensity, leaving you restless, exhilarated, completely unsure what to do with yourself.
You had never been happier.
Judging by the way Sanji looked at you, neither had he.
“…May I?”
You smiled, gently running your fingertips over the soft stubble that framed his jaw.
“…Please.”
His arms slipped around your waist once more, drawing you against him as though he were still afraid you might disappear if he let go.
You nestled closer without a second thought, both of you smiling like hopeless fools.
Another kiss found you.
Slow and unrushed.
This time you let your fingers wander higher, tracing the graceful arch of one of his eyebrows with featherlight touches.
When you finally pulled back, both of you slightly breathless, your lips pleasantly swollen from an evening spent stealing kisses, you shifted just enough to look down at him.
Then, to his complete surprise, you leaned forward and pressed the gentlest kiss against one curly eyebrow.
Then the other.
Sanji’s entire face turned scarlet.
He actually moved his fringe aside with embarrassed haste to make it easier for you to reach the second one, his heart threatening to beat straight out of his chest.
“My love…” he whispered, barely able to form the words.
His fingertips drifted lazily over the small of your back before your lips found each other once more.
The kisses came easily now.
Some impossibly gentle, little more than lingering brushes of affection.
Others filled with years of quiet longing finally given permission to exist.
Every now and then one of you would begin to smile halfway through, forcing you apart with breathless laughter before inevitably drawing you together again.
Your foreheads remained resting against one another, your breaths mingling in the quiet room while a gentle summer rain began tapping softly against the balcony doors.
Sanji smiled again.
Not the dazzling smile he offered strangers.
Not the hopelessly lovestruck grin that accompanied his theatrical compliments.
Something quieter and smaller.
Infinitely more precious.
The smile of a man who had finally stopped dreaming.
By breakfast, the difference was impossible to miss.
Oblivious to everyone except each other, the two of you sat at the table stealing glances every few seconds.
Whenever you reached for something, Sanji was somehow already there, carefully choosing your favorite foods before absentmindedly lifting your hand to place a light kiss against your fingers.
You talked and laughed.
The rest of the dining room might as well not have existed.
You had come to this hotel searching for an Eternal Pose.
Instead, you’d found something infinitely more valuable.
Something neither of you had expected.
Something that might never have had the chance to grow had you not been separated from your wonderfully chaotic crew.
Robin had already contacted you through the Den Den Mushi.
Before evening, the two of you would reunite with the Thousand Sunny before setting out to recover the Eternal Pose.
“Lovebirds!”
One of the elderly ladies from the neighboring table waved enthusiastically.
“You’re even more smitten than when you first arrived. That room of yours must be magical! Richard and I shall request it next time.”
Sanji only smiled, keeping your hand firmly in his.
“We’re simply making the most of our last few peaceful hours together before duty steals us away for a little while.”
And we don’t need anyone else.
Slightly disappointed that she hadn’t lured you back into another afternoon of gossip, the woman eventually returned to her husband.
Once she was gone, Sanji reached into his pocket and carefully slipped something between your joined hands.
It was the photo the hotel photographer had taken a few days earlier.
The one your then-fake fiancé had accepted with such ridiculous enthusiasm.
You couldn’t help smiling.
His grin in the picture was wonderfully carefree, while your own face wore the unmistakable blush of someone trying very hard not to admit how happy she was.
“I’m going to frame it.”
He looked almost dreamily at the photograph.
“We’ll keep it in our room once Franky builds us one.”
Then his eyes widened.
“That is…”
He immediately scratched the back of his neck.
“If… if that’s something you’d ever want.”
You laughed softly before kissing his cheek.
“Thank you.”
Sanji practically melted.
Then, with unmistakable excitement, he placed a small velvet box into your hands.
“Until then…”
He closed your fingers around it.
“…you’ll have this.”
You opened it.
Inside rested a delicate necklace with a tiny locket.
When you gently unclasped it, you found a miniature copy of the very same photograph tucked safely inside.
Your eyes lit up.
Throwing your arms around his neck, you peppered his cheeks with delighted kisses until he looked seconds away from fainting.
“It’s beautiful! When did you even manage to do this?”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“I slipped out the night before last while you were asleep and found a jeweler just before he closed. I asked if he could make it for me.”
A bashful smile spread across his face.
“I picked it up later while we were apart.”
Then he reached into the pocket of his jacket.
“And this one’s mine.”
He revealed an elegant pocket watch.
Inside was the same tiny photograph.
You stared at him.
“…How did you know?”
How did you know we’d end up here?
His smile softened.
“I didn’t.”
A quiet pause.
“But I hoped.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I thought… that maybe one day I’d finally find the courage to give it to you.”
A tiny laugh escaped him.
“Even if you threw it back at me.”
You couldn’t stop smiling.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Every ounce of your affection found its way into another gentle kiss.
The sounds of your crew reached the harbor long before the Thousand Sunny came into view.
As soon as Sanji helped you aboard, Luffy launched himself across the deck, chanting “FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!” like a sacred prayer, while Usopp and Chopper enthusiastically joined in.
“WOULD YOU THREE CALM DOWN UNTIL WE’VE LEFT THE HARBOR, YOU UNCIVILIZED APES?!”
Sanji barked, kicking the deck beside them.
Not one of them noticed.
For the first time that day, he reached for a cigarette.
These idiots really do bring out the worst in me.
While you hugged Nami and Robin, eagerly recounting everything you’d seen on the island, Sanji watched you from across the deck with unmistakable affection.
After stubbing out his cigarette, he wandered over.
“Ladies,” he greeted warmly, kissing each of their hands. “It’s always wonderful to see you.”
Then, almost absentmindedly, his fingers found yours.
He intertwined them naturally before lifting your hand to his lips for the briefest kiss.
“I’ll go prepare something refreshing for the Straw Hats’ princesses.”
The deck fell strangely quiet.
Nami slowly raised an eyebrow.
Robin smiled knowingly.
“…Finally.”
She chuckled.
“We should’ve sent you two on a mission together years ago if this was all it took.”
Usopp’s jaw hit the deck.
“THEY'RE ACTUALLY TOGETHER?!”
Chopper burst into delighted tears.
“I KNEW THEY'D FIGURE IT OUT!”
Luffy looked up from the loaf of bread he’d already stolen from the kitchen.
“Huh?”
He blinked.
“Weren’t they already?”
As the Sunny sailed toward its next adventure, leaving the suspiciously cupid-infested hotel behind, you and Sanji stood side by side at the railing.
He rested his chin lightly atop your head while both of you watched the horizon.
“So…”
His voice was quiet.
“Still willing to go on adventures with me, my love?”
Smiling, you answered the only way that felt right.
With a kiss.
The first of countless more to come.
To every adventure that awaited you.
And, someday, to the greatest one of all.
From the other side of the deck, Nami sighed dramatically.
“I’m beginning to think we may regret opening their eyes.”
Robin laughed softly.
“They’re going to be unbearable.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Nami groaned. “She’ll sigh over him even more than before, and he’ll become completely impossible.”
Robin watched the two of you for another moment, her smile impossibly fond.
“I don’t know. I think they’re adorable.”
Authors note: Thank you so much for reading! 🩷 I hope you enjoyed the conclusion as much as I enjoyed writing it. And thank you again for all the love you showed Part 1. It truly means the world to me!
Tagging those who asked to be notified 🌸: @im-so-tired-sorry @starinthesky-writes @peachycat17 @shewhodabbles @imastorytelleritsondvd
Summary: Pretending to be engaged to Sanji was easy. Convincing yourself it meant nothing was harder.
Part 2 is OUT!
Word count: about 6700
Contains: fake dating, fake engagement, fluff, PINING, awkward overdramatic romance, mild angst, reader being insecure about how flirty Sanji is.
Authors note: there will be a part two pretty soon, I'm almost done
“There is absolutely no downside to pretending we’re engaged, my sweet love,” Sanji said, eyes shining as he carefully draped his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric brushing teasingly against your bare skin.
“Yes, except for the part where people would think I was engaged to you,” you teased, though you couldn’t stop the faint warmth spreading across your cheeks.
This was going to be a very long mission.
You could have spent hours wondering how exactly you’d ended up in a situation where you were pretending to be madly in love with a cook who seemed born for the role, only to find yourself sharing a honeymoon suite with him for four days.
And yet, there you were, standing in the middle of an absurdly luxurious hotel room, surrounded by flowers, mirrors, silk sheets, and enough romantic decoration to make you wonder what terrible crime you’d committed to deserve such a fate.
Then again, the room itself wasn’t the problem.
The problem was the ecstatic cook currently wandering around it with hearts in his eyes, tossing rose petals into the air and admiring towel arrangements shaped like various adorable, mythical, and, in your opinion, deeply nauseating creatures.
It had all started innocently enough...
The crew had needed information from a wealthy broker attending an exclusive gathering on a secluded resort island. Rumor had it he was acting as the middleman in the private sale of the only known Eternal Pose leading to an otherwise unreachable island, and Robin wasn’t about to let a lead like that slip away.
They didn’t need to steal it. All they had to do was find out who currently possessed the Eternal Pose, where the exchange would take place, and how it would be transported once the deal was done.
The problem was that access to the event was restricted to married couples and engaged pairs.
Simple enough, right?
Except no one had actually known that tiny, insignificant little detail until Sanji and you were already standing at the reception desk.
Up until that moment, he had behaved exactly as he always did around you: hovering attentively nearby, opening doors, showering you with compliments.
Which was why it wasn’t particularly surprising when the woman behind the counter smiled warmly at the two of you while checking your reservation.
“I assume you’re engaged. Ah, young love! You’re practically glowing! Access to the event is restricted to married and engaged couples only.”
The words struck you like lightning from a clear sky, and heat rushed to your face.
Before you could untangle your tongue enough to respond, however, Sanji’s eyes lit up.
This is the greatest day of my life, he thought.
Not with the smile he wore when flirting or charming every beautiful woman who crossed his path.
No, this one was confident. Victorious.
Like a man accepting the highest honor at an award ceremony.
Yes, that’s me. Her fiancé. That’s right. Absolutely.
“Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I’ve been looking forward to bringing my fiancée somewhere like this and showing the whole world just how lucky I am.”
You stared at him.
“I wouldn’t dream of denying my honeybun an experience like this.”
…Honeybun?
The receptionist practically melted.
“How adorable! Let me just check… Ah, yes. A couple like you deserves our finest honeymoon suite.”
She handed the keys to the blond cook.
“It’s ready. Gorgeous sea view, enormous jacuzzi, private pool, spa… and plenty of privacy,” she added with a knowing smile. “Enjoy yourselves, lovebirds!”
Sanji somehow managed to beam even brighter, puffing out his chest like an outrageously proud peacock.
“We certainly will! Isn’t that right, my dear Y/N-swan?”
If the ground had opened beneath your feet at that very moment and swallowed you whole, you would have accepted it as a divine deus ex machina.
Sadly, reality remained intact.
“You’re just precious! Look at her! A wedding right around the corner, and he still has that effect on her. She’s red as a poppy!”
One tiny lie, as your so-called fiancé would later put it, caused absolute chaos.
Congratulations began pouring in from every employee they encountered. Complimentary champagne appeared. Cakes. Reservations for couples’ activities. And, worst of all, the luxurious suite would belong to the two of you for four long, seemingly endless days.
“Refusing would have looked suspicious. Besides, I wouldn’t have passed up an opportunity like this if my life depended on it,” your insane fake future husband explained later.
Four days of sweet, sickening romance with Sanji.
The prospect would have been far easier to endure if he weren’t a natural-born expert at expressing affection and performing grand gestures.
Every touch, every door he held open, every chair he pulled out, every compliment he offered came naturally to the cook. He would have done those things regardless, though admittedly with far less frequency and considerably less intensity.
What was happening at the hotel was something else entirely.
Everything had been exaggerated tenfold.
His hand never seemed to leave the small of your back. He introduced you to everyone with a radiant smile. He devoted his undivided attention to you, never leaving you alone for long, remembering every detail of every conversation.
Worst of all, none of it felt forced.
For the blond gentleman, playing the role of the perfect fiancé seemed as effortless as breathing.
For you, meanwhile, it had taken only a single evening to bring you dangerously close to throwing yourself into the ocean and abandoning the mission altogether.
The hardest part was allowing yourself to play along.
To act equally smitten.
You had simply never been that kind of person, even when it was only pretend.
The embarrassment was bad enough.
Feeling painfully aware of your own stiffness and inability to relax somehow made it even worse.
The problem wasn’t Sanji.
Far from it.
For all that his affection was generously distributed among every woman he met, there was still something undeniably pleasant about being cared for. He treated every woman on the crew like something precious, and his kindness extended to others as well, even if he could be considerably rougher around the edges with them.
No, what unsettled you was precisely how universal that affection was.
Instead of bolstering your confidence, it had the opposite effect.
Everything felt unreal.
And on your worse days, almost mocking.
Because there was simply no way someone could genuinely say those sorts of things about you.
By the time you were finally escorted to your suite, your “fiancé,” whose arm had remained securely around your waist the entire walk, seized an unexpected opportunity.
The moment you caught your foot on the elevator threshold, he swept you effortlessly into his arms.
Instinctively, you threw your arms around his neck.
“I can still sweep you off your feet,” he said with a wink.
The hotel staff collectively dissolved into delighted squeals.
Then, lowering his voice slightly, he added:
“And every time you fall, I’ll be there to catch you.”
After he finally carried you over the threshold, murmuring, “A little rehearsal before the real thing, my love,” and the door clicked shut behind you, you immediately wriggled out of his arms.
Not without some difficulty.
The way he’d been holding you, firm and secure, had made it practically impossible to fall.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” you hissed, trying to calm the frantic beating of your heart.
Sanji ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the carefully arranged curls you held so dear in the process.
“We don’t have a choice, my love” he said. “It’s the only way. You heard her. They’re only letting couples in.”
Then he paused, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you with unmistakable fondness.
“And, truthfully, I’m honored that I get to call a creature as lovely as you my fiancée. Even if it’s only for a little while.”
Just when you’d thought you’d recovered, your cheeks burst into flames all over again.
“…I suppose you’re right. We only have three more days to survive,” you sighed.
The next unavoidable disaster came when you finally took a proper look around the room.
It wasn’t terrible.
Actually, it was beautiful.
Spacious, decorated in warm tones, with enormous windows and a terrace overlooking the sea.
As far as positives went, however, that was where the list ended.
Because the first thing anyone would notice was the petals.
They were everywhere.
On the enormous king-size bed positioned shamelessly in the center of the room. Across the floor. Scattered over the pillows. Even hanging from the chandelier and ceiling fans, so that petals drifted down around you like rain whenever the blades moved.
An massive heart made of red, pink, and magenta rose petals had been arranged atop the comforter.
And, as the final touch, two towels folded into swans sat at its center, their beaks touching to form yet another heart.
Beside them rested a bowl of strawberries and a card that read:
“For unforgettable moments together.”
“Of course.”
“What?” Sanji asked as he wheeled the last suitcase inside. “This is magnificent! A swan for my Y/N-swan!”
You merely blinked.
The sheer predictability of the Straw Hat cook left you momentarily speechless.
That only made his grin widen.
“Come on, admit it. We’ve seen worse rooms. They could’ve put us in that suite with the mirror on the ceiling.”
You quickly looked away.
“I wouldn’t mind admiring your beauty from every possible angle.”
His smile turned positively roguish.
“Sure you wouldn’t,” you snorted.
Something akin to sympathy flickered through his eyes, but before he could say anything, he walked over to the bed, scooped up a handful of petals, and tossed them into the air.
The delicate red and pink confetti scattered around him, floating down in slow motion like something straight out of a perfume commercial.
“Isn’t it wonderful, my love?”
“They plucked and butchered an entire family of perfectly innocent flowers just to create some tacky nonsense about an ‘intimate retreat for lovers.’ Somewhere, a rose bush is missing half its relatives. Every time someone says ‘romantic getaway,’ a cupid dies.”
You brushed an irritated swath of petals off the bed and accidentally knocked one of the swans crooked.
Sanji laughed.
“You have a vivid imagination.”
He lit a cigarette and glanced around the room.
“You can tell they put a lot of effort into this. That’s dedication. Don’t wreck it. The staff must’ve spent ages setting all this up.”
Kind. Thoughtful. Considerate.
Your chest tightened slightly at the realization.
Still, you replied, far more gently than you’d intended:
“Well, we have to sleep somewhere.”
The world seemed to stop.
Had he thrown another handful of petals at that exact moment, they probably would’ve frozen midair.
“Oh.”
“Oh.”
You would’ve expected Sanji to short-circuit on the spot.
To start hyperventilating. To spring a nosebleed from the mere implication of spending the night in close proximity to you.
Instead, he cleared his throat and gave a small bow.
“No need to worry, milady. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“What?”
“It’s really no trouble,” he said, smiling more sincerely this time. “You didn’t ask to end up in this situation.”
Why was he so damn nice?
“Like hell you’re sleeping on the floor.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a pirate. I’ve slept in worse places. Besides, do you have any idea what it’s like sharing space with Luffy, Usopp, and Marimo? This is practically luxury.”
“So?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a pirate too. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Absolutely not.”
The playful tone vanished immediately.
“I’ve slept in worse places,” you repeated, throwing his own words back at him. “And yes, I’m grateful that I share a room with Nami and Robin now. They’re fantastic roommates. But I had a life before that. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. Sleeping on the floor isn’t going to kill me.”
Sanji’s eyes filled with equal parts determination and compassion.
“The day I allow any woman, especially you, to be uncomfortable is the day I’m no longer among the living and whatever horrors lurk beneath the Grand Line finally drag me down.”
You stared.
Your breath caught.
Heat rushed into your cheeks so suddenly it almost hurt.
“The bed is more than big enough.”
“That’s not the point,” he began.
Then he stopped when he realized you were serious.
“You can’t possibly be as stubborn as I am.”
He laughed.
“If a lady such as yourself insists on inviting me into bed with her, who am I to deny her?”
You immediately smacked him with the spare towel swan.
“Stop.”
He looked at you softly.
Steadily.
And for just a moment, some of the awkwardness evaporated.
“We’ll share the bed,” you confirmed.
Sanji’s expression became suspiciously neutral.
The sort of neutrality people only managed when they were trying very, very hard not to react.
“You stay on your side.”
You pointed a warning finger at him.
“Of course, my dear.”
“And don’t try anything weird.”
“Naturally.”
“You’re agreeing awfully fast.”
“I’m being cooperative.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Me?” He smiled innocently. “Never.”
The lying blond.
It was eventually time to shower.
The hotel had thoughtfully provided enormous fluffy bathrobes which, to your horror and Sanji’s delight, were embroidered in gold thread.
One read:
Future Mrs. Forever
The other:
Future Mr. Forever
“I’m going first.”
“Of course, my dear.”
“…And don’t even think about coming in, peeking, or trying to join me,” you warned.
Sanji looked genuinely offended.
“I wasn’t planning to! …Do you really think that little of me?”
The wounded look in his eyes sent a familiar sinking feeling twisting through your stomach.
Guilt. Unfortunately.
“And what about that time you spied on Nami, Vivi, and me?” you reminded him, as you always did.
His head immediately lowered.
“I’ll be apologizing for that for the rest of my life.”
As if he wouldn’t do it again, the pervert.
“I promise I’ll behave. Take your time. It’ll give me a chance to unpack.”
His voice softened.
The door had barely clicked shut behind you when he let out a long breath.
Somehow, he was going to earn your forgiveness.
Somehow, he was going to make you understand who he really was.
Sanji would freely admit that, in the past, he’d occasionally behaved like an idiot.
Chasing after every beautiful woman he saw, bending over backward to make them happy, sometimes even humiliating himself in the process, if Zoro was to be believed.
But he’d always thought the way he treated you was obviously different.
Now, however, he could see the problem.
When a man required medical attention every time a woman smiled at him, suffered catastrophic nosebleeds whenever he caught sight of a particularly attractive figure, and practically launched into orbit after receiving a hug, it was understandable that you might question the sincerity of his feelings.
Maybe, over the next few days, he’d finally be able to show you.
He lit a cigarette and sank back onto the couch.
Then another.
No matter what happened, he promised himself one thing:
he wouldn’t let you regret agreeing to come with him.
Inside the bathroom, you discovered a walk-in shower with not one but two rainfall showerheads, a bathtub large enough to comfortably fit six people, rose petals scattered across its surface, candles arranged around the edges, and, to top it all off, a small plaque that read:
“Because every romantic journey deserves to begin with a shared bath.”
“Good Lord.”
A knock sounded from the other side of the door.
“Everything alright in there?”
“There are flowers. In. The bathtub.”
“…Seriously?” he laughed.
“It’s like you designed this place yourself.”
“You’re flattering me.”
When you emerged from the bathroom wrapped in the enormous bathrobe, your hair still damp and your face free of makeup, Sanji nearly forgot how to breathe.
A goddess of this sea, he thought.
Though, if he was being honest, the look leaned far more toward comfort than glamour.
For a moment, he simply stared.
Then he quickly gathered himself and looked away.
“The bathroom’s free.”
“Thanks.”
You headed for your suitcase to retrieve your nightgown and toiletries.
I’m doomed, echoed through Sanji’s mind.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to maintain his composure for the rest of their stay at the resort.
By the time he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a navy silk pajama set and drying his hair with a towel, you were already tucked into bed on the left side, flipping through one of the resort brochures.
He greeted you and sat down on the edge of the mattress.
“What are you reading?”
You glanced up.
“I’m studying this absurdly elaborate brochure and wondering where we might find actual information about the Log Pose.”
He leaned closer to look over your shoulder.
The warmth of his body and the brush of his breath against your neck sent a shiver down your spine.
You were beautiful, his mind screamed.
The sight of you in your nightgown. Your lovely hair. The shadow your lashes cast across your cheeks. The scent of shampoo, lotion, perfume, and all the little things that made you unmistakably you.
It would’ve brought kings to their knees.
Never mind an ordinary mortal like the Straw Hat cook.
Sanji physically forced himself to pull back.
“Sorry.”
Instead, he picked up another brochure from the bedside table.
Glancing through it, he found no useful information whatsoever.
The pages were packed with advertisements for couples’ massages, sunset cruises, private dinners beneath the stars, and enough heart-shaped decorations to make his eyes hurt.
“‘Renew your vows beneath our Moonlight Pavilion,’” he read aloud. “…They’re really committed to the theme.”
You snorted.
“I’ve learned more about their honeymoon packages than our actual mission.”
He hummed and closed the brochure.
“They wouldn’t advertise something like this openly.”
“No, but they still have to organize it somehow.” Resting your chin on your hand, you thought aloud. “People don’t just arrive on an island carrying priceless navigation equipment. Someone checks them in. Someone handles their luggage. Someone prepares their rooms.”
Something shifted in Sanji’s expression.
“…The staff.”
You nodded.
A slow grin spread across his face.
“I can work with that, my dear.”
“You can?”
“I’m a chef.” He shrugged as though the answer were obvious. “Professional kitchens love talking to other chefs. Give me an hour near theirs and somebody will complain about deliveries, difficult guests, or whoever ordered dinner at three in the morning.”
“You make espionage sound suspiciously easy.”
“It usually starts with food.”
You couldn’t help laughing.
“Then I’ll handle the guests.”
“The guests?”
“They’re wealthy.” You gestured vaguely with the brochure. “Wealthy people gossip. Especially when they think they’re talking to another harmless tourist.”
“So…” Sanji summarized, counting on his fingers. “I befriend the staff. You mingle with the guests.”
“And every evening we compare notes.”
He nodded.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Your gaze wandered around the outrageously romantic room once more before you sighed.
“…I just didn’t think reconnaissance would involve matching bathrobes.”
Sanji followed your eyes toward the embroidered robes hanging beside the wardrobe.
“…Or complimentary couple’s slippers.”
That night, the two of you lay on opposite ends of the enormous bed, so far apart that Zoro and Luffy could’ve comfortably fit between you.
Possibly Chopper too.
“…Are you planning to fall off?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re literally hanging between silk sheets and the abyss.”
“It’s fine.”
“Gravity is eventually going to win. I hope you know that.”
“I’m respecting your personal space,” he continued solemnly.
A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.
You rolled your eyes.
“Look how much room we have.”
“I’m aware.”
An idea suddenly struck you.
Grinning, you began arranging the decorative satin pillows between the two of you.
“There.”
“A barrier?” he asked, tilting his head dramatically.
“A border.”
He looked at you warmly.
“A neutral zone?”
“Exactly. If neither side violates the established boundaries, there will be no unfortunate consequences.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time.
“And as a firm guarantee of our neutrality and peaceful diplomatic relations…”
You grabbed a handful of leftover rose petals and scattered them across the pillow border.
“…our brave soldiers of the Red and Pink Rose Army.”
Sanji laughed and immediately joined in.
“I’ll be the reds!”
One of your movements accidentally brushed against something hidden near the headboard.
Suddenly, music filled the room.
“Love is in the air…”
Both of you jolted upright.
“What did you do?!”
“How should I know?!”
“Where do you turn this thing off?!”
After several frantic attempts, and after cycling through an alarming variety of songs ranging from cheerful pop music to heartbreaking ballads about eternal love conquering all earthly obstacles, soulmates separated by fate, and passions that transcended every boundary imaginable, you finally managed to silence it.
Then promptly collapsed into helpless laughter.
At last, you settled into bed properly.
No limbs dangling over the edge.
No imaginary cupids soaring triumphantly overhead.
Just silence.
Neither of you seemed capable of falling asleep.
The rhythmic chirping of insects drifted through the open window alongside the distant sound of waves.
And breathing.
“…Sanji?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“…Thank you.”
“For what?”
He turned toward you in the darkness.
“For offering to sleep on the floor.”
A pause.
“…There really wasn’t another option.”
You rolled onto your side and stared at him incredulously.
For a man who spent most of his life behaving exactly like Sanji, he certainly had nerve pretending otherwise.
“For you?” you said. “The same man whose thoughts managed to shock Viola, and that woman survived Doflamingo?”
Even in the darkness, you could practically feel him turning red.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“…I don’t want you to think that way about me,” he muttered.
His voice was quieter now.
“You’ll see. I’m not quite as hopeless or reckless as I probably seem at first.”
A smile spread across your face in the darkness.
Not that he could see it.
When you stirred awake at dawn to the sound of waves rolling against the shore, the pillow barricade had long since fallen victim to the countless movements of the night.
And yet, both of you had remained firmly on your respective sides of the bed, never brushing against one another even once.
Somehow, Sanji appeared to have spent the entire night hanging off the very edge of the mattress. One arm dangled toward the floor, one knee bent precariously over the side, and the blanket the two of you had shared, despite stretching over the ruined wall of pillows, offered him no warmth whatsoever in the coolness of the night and early morning. Nearly all of it had migrated to your side.
Frankly, he looked as though he would have slept more comfortably on the floor, as he’d originally suggested, and the faint shadows beginning to form beneath his eyes seemed to agree.
Propping yourself up on one elbow, you took a moment to study him.
His soft blond hair had transformed into a proper crow’s nest, no pun intended. It was so thoroughly disheveled that both spiral eyebrows were fully visible. Raising your hand, you traced the familiar shape of them in the air above his forehead without actually touching him.
You quickly withdrew your hand when his mouth fell open a little further and a faint snore drifted through the room.
A quiet fondness bloomed beneath your ribs and softened your expression.
He’s so handsome when he’s asleep, you thought.
Without the burden of constantly proving himself.
Without the sweetened compliments, poetic declarations, and endless displays of admiration he seemed to consider necessary whenever a woman crossed his path.
Once more, your gaze wandered across his peaceful sleeping features before you carefully pulled the blanket over him.
A tiny gesture.
One that reflected only a fraction of the countless unconscious acts of kindness and consideration he showered you with every day.
If only he could truly love me too, you thought.
Then you settled back onto your pillow, hoping to steal another hour of sleep.
Sunlight spilled into the enormous honeymoon suite where, side by side, lay two members of the Straw Hat crew, each entirely unaware of the effect they had on the other.
The cook was the first to awaken.
His eyelashes fluttered as he fought off the last traces of sleep, and almost immediately he noticed the warmth wrapped around his torso.
He was covered.
How could I allow such a thing to happen?
The thought struck him with immediate horror.
Despite all his efforts, despite spending most of the night stubbornly refusing to relax, he had apparently surrendered to unconsciousness and allowed dear Y/N to freeze while he selfishly stole the blanket for himself.
How would he ever recover from such disgrace?
Could such shame be washed away?
Had he truly committed such a crime even in his sleep?
Had he dared expose a delicate flower to the cold simply so his own selfish person could enjoy a little comfort?
Unforgivable.
Then he paused.
The blanket didn’t look as though it had been carelessly yanked away from a lady at all.
Quite the opposite.
It had been arranged with remarkable care, positioned almost geometrically around the places most vulnerable to the morning chill.
His eyes widened.
Could it be…?
Y/N-chan…
Brightest creature to ever set foot upon the Grand Line…
Thoughtful, caring, wonderful angel…
Goddess of my All Blue…
Stars practically exploded behind his eyes.
What had he done to deserve such kindness?
His gaze drifted toward your sleeping form.
You looked peaceful.
Content.
The soft rhythm of your breathing filled the quiet room.
Slowly, sunlight began creeping across your face.
When it finally reached your right eyelid, you stirred.
Sanji was already blushing by the time your eyes opened.
“’Morning,” you mumbled.
“Good morning, angel.”
You pushed yourself upright and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
A small part of you felt self-conscious under the intensity of his attention. Who knew what you looked like first thing in the morning?
“By the way,” you said, squinting at him, “it’s kind of creepy to stare at people while they’re sleeping.”
Sanji blinked in astonishment.
A remarkable statement coming from a woman who had, only a few hours earlier, been tracing the shape of his eyebrows in the air above his face.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Not even the greatest effort imaginable could keep me from looking when such beauty is right in front of me.”
Whether it was the sunlight, lingering sleepiness, the way he was looking at you, or his words themselves, you couldn’t say.
All you knew was that the blush spreading across your cheeks deepened considerably.
After a surprisingly peaceful breakfast, if one ignored the heart-shaped pancakes, the complimentary “Lovers’ Blend” coffee, and the waiter who insisted on taking a commemorative photograph, you finally had a chance to focus on the reason you were there.
Sanji, for his part, had been absolutely delighted by the photo. At one point, he’d proudly drawn you against his chest and looked at you with such ridiculous tenderness that you’d actually laughed at the absurdity of the situation.
“It would be a crime not to take a picture of such a lovely couple! Especially when you’re wearing that beautiful dress. I refuse to let an opportunity like this go to waste.”
The photograph had been taken.
Unfortunately.
Sanji unfolded the resort map between the two of you.
“So,” he said, tapping the paper. “Where do we start?”
Resting your chin on your hand, you studied the various amenities listed across the island.
“I’ll start with the kitchens,” he declared.
Leaning over your shoulder, he allowed his lips to brush your bare shoulder in passing for the benefit of a pair of employees walking nearby.
You felt a shiver race down your spine at the subtlety of it.
“You don’t even work here.”
“I don’t have to.”
His grin widened, visibly charmed by your flustered reaction.
“A chef recognizes another chef. Give me twenty minutes.”
“And if they throw you out?”
“They won’t.”
“…You’re awfully confident.”
“They’ll feed me first.”
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
“Alright, Mr. Master Chef.”
“And what about you?”
“I’ll mingle.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
He lit a cigarette.
“Perhaps it would be safer if you enjoyed the spa, got a massage or two, and waited until I’ve figured out what we’re dealing with.”
You cut him off immediately.
“I’m perfectly capable of surviving crowds far more troublesome than this, and you know it. The only real danger is that I’ll lose my mind listening to conversations about imported wine and scented bath salts.”
Sanji nodded.
Apparently deciding it would be wise to hold his tongue in the future.
“I’ll pray for your survival.”
“Please do.”
He stood, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his shirt.
Two can play this game, you thought.
Rising to your feet, you reached up to straighten his collar yourself, stepping closer and lowering your voice near his ear.
“We’re meeting back here for dinner, darling?”
Sanji froze.
Then unfroze.
Then seemingly forgot how to breathe.
Then remembered and started breathing far too hard.
His heart hammered against his ribs like an overenthusiastic woodpecker.
“Y-Y/N-swan!”
He practically melted.
Then hastily pulled himself together and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I’ll come find you sooner than that,” he promised softly. “The moment I’m finished.”
The kitchens turned out to be exactly as Sanji had predicted.
Organized chaos.
Steam curled from simmering pots. Knives struck cutting boards in rapid rhythm. Orders flew across the room louder than cannon fire.
Sanji lingered outside the entrance for all of thirty seconds before spotting one of the sous-chefs struggling with a crate of vegetables.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward.
“Need a hand?”
The older man blinked.
Then let out a grateful sigh.
“Wouldn’t say no, young man.”
One crate became two.
Two became helping unload supplies.
Which somehow transformed into correcting the seasoning in a seafood chowder.
The head chef took one bite.
“…Who made this?”
Standing nearby, Sanji shrugged with practiced nonchalance.
“I only added a little thyme.”
By lunchtime, nobody questioned why he was there.
Stories, recipes, culinary disasters, and tales of memorable guests flowed as freely as the food. They exchanged anecdotes about everyone from high-ranking Marines to infamous pirates, a subject on which Sanji, naturally, had plenty to contribute.
He blended into the crowd so effortlessly it was as if he’d worked there for years.
At one point, a waiter grumbled that Villa Twelve had once again requested dinner for two to be delivered precisely at nine o’clock.
“The strange part,” another waiter added, “is that only one guest is registered there.”
“Maybe they’re lonely,” Sanji suggested casually while chopping herbs.
The waiter snorted.
“Not lonely enough to eat two full-course meals every night.”
Another cook joined the conversation.
“And they’re ridiculously secretive. Management personally delivers the second place setting.”
Interesting.
Sanji continued sautéing vegetables and preparing meats while quietly absorbing every piece of kitchen gossip that might lead them toward the information they needed.
Meanwhile, your own investigation proved exhausting in a completely different way.
The resort had thoughtfully organized what they called A Morning of Shared Serenity.
In practice, this consisted of wealthy couples drinking tea while discussing each other’s lives with astonishing enthusiasm.
You smiled.
Nodded.
Spoke fondly of your wonderful fiancé, who unfortunately wasn’t present at the moment, while mentally noting that if you ever had to attend one of these events again, Sanji would absolutely be coming with you.
Every pretentious comment was met with polite interest.
Every boast was encouraged.
Every complaint was carefully entertained.
Somewhere between the second and third discussion about luxury yachts, an older woman leaned toward her companion.
“The Beaumonts reserved the Moonlight Pavilion again.”
“They always do.”
Your ears immediately perked up.
“Tomorrow evening, wasn’t it?”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Apparently they’re finally meeting that business associate they’ve been waiting for.”
You stirred your tea and kept your expression pleasantly neutral.
Now that’s something.
Another guest sighed dramatically.
“I do hope they aren’t discussing business all night. It ruins the atmosphere.”
“They rented the entire pavilion.”
“Again?”
“Mhm. Complete privacy.”
You took another sip of tea to hide the smile threatening to appear.
People with entirely too much money truly couldn’t resist gossiping.
By the time dinner finally arrived, you felt as though your social battery had been completely drained and was in desperate need of emergency intervention.
You’d stopped by your room beforehand to freshen up and change clothes, reviving yourself with several chocolates from the complimentary gift basket. Sugar had always possessed the miraculous ability to raise you from the dead.
When you entered the dining hall, however, there was no sign of your “future husband”.
Just as you approached the table, a familiar voice called out:
“My beloved.”
You turned.
The blond man with spiral brows stepped toward you and gently pressed a kiss to your hand.
“My eyes are blessed to see you. You look beautiful, as always.”
For a moment, the two of you simply looked at one another.
Then he pulled out your chair.
All around you, elderly couples decorated in varying degrees of extravagance watched the exchange and sighed dreamily.
As you sat down and he carefully moved your chair closer to the table, Sanji leaned near your ear.
“Tonight, I’ll have the honor of feeding you myself. I helped prepare dinner with the chefs.”
You laughed and glanced at him.
“You always feed me.”
Then, more quietly:
“You’re the cook of our crew.”
“And it’s always an honor, Y/N-swan.”
His gaze settled on yours.
Deep and attentive.
As it always did, it immediately found what it was looking for.
“Long day?”
“I know entirely too much about honeymoon cruises,” you muttered.
He laughed softly.
Once you had both been served, with several enthusiastic recommendations from your personal chef, the conversation turned more serious.
“I’ve got something.”
Sanji smiled over the rim of his wine glass.
“So do I.”
“You first.”
He shook his head.
“Ladies first.”
You sighed dramatically.
“I think someone important arrives tomorrow.”
“They’re already here.”
Your eyes widened.
“…What?”
“The kitchen has been preparing dinner for two in Villa Twelve since yesterday evening.”
You frowned.
“But only one guest checked in.”
“Officially.”
The single word was enough.
Your thoughts immediately arrived at the same conclusion.
“The business associate.”
Sanji inclined his head.
“I’d wager they’ve been on the island for at least a day. Whoever arranged this meeting has gone to considerable lengths to keep their arrival off the books, but kitchens notice the sort of details people assume they’ll overlook.”
Despite yourself, you leaned forward.
“What exactly did you hear?”
“One waiter complained about delivering two full-course dinners every evening to a villa occupied by a single registered guest. Another mentioned that management personally handles the second place setting and that nobody is allowed to ask questions.”
A thoughtful silence settled between you.
Your fingers traced absent circles around the stem of your wine glass.
“That explains something.”
His attention sharpened immediately.
“The Beaumonts?”
You nodded.
“I spent the morning surrounded by people who gossip the way sailors drink, and somewhere between discussions about yachts and charity galas, two women mentioned that the Beaumonts had reserved the entire Moonlight Pavilion tomorrow evening. Apparently they’re finally meeting the business associate they’ve been waiting for.”
The corner of Sanji’s mouth lifted.
“So your gossip confirms mine.”
Leaning back in your chair, you watched the scattered pieces suddenly arrange themselves into a coherent picture.
“The associate arrived quietly and has been hidden in Villa Twelve. Tomorrow night’s reservation isn’t just dinner.”
Your eyes met across the table.
“It’s the meeting we’ve been looking for.”
Sanji nodded slowly.
“Exactly.”
For a brief moment, neither of you touched your food.
The sounds of cutlery, conversation, and soft music faded into the background as you considered what this meant.
Then, almost absentmindedly, you smiled.
“I have to admit, I thought spending the afternoon listening to wealthy socialites complain about one another would be the least useful assignment.”
“And I thought I was simply making soup.”
A laugh escaped you.
At that exact moment, the music changed.
Violins.
Cellos.
Double basses.
A graceful symphony swept through the dining hall.
Several couples were already dancing together, moving across the floor in perfect harmony.
Sanji’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Milady,” he said, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your skin, “may I have this dance?”
You rose almost automatically, carried along by the moment, and your feet felt strangely light as he drew you closer.
“But Sanji,” you whispered through gritted teeth, thoroughly embarrassed, “I don’t know how to dance.”
A fond smile touched his lips.
He looked genuinely charmed by your expression.
“Don’t worry, my dear.”
His voice softened.
“Just follow me.”
As the distance between you disappeared, Sanji placed his right hand lightly against your shoulder blade, his arm forming a strong, protective frame. He guided your left hand to his shoulder, and your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket.
Then he offered you a reassuring smile.
It’s alright.
You’ll be fine.
Slowly, the two of you began to sway together.
The steady rise and fall of his breathing seemed to provide a rhythm all its own.
Or at least it probably should have.
You had only the vaguest idea what you were doing.
Feeling the subtle shift of his weight onto his right foot, he guided you to mirror him. You softened your knees and stepped back.
For several glorious seconds, everything went perfectly.
Then you stepped directly on his foot.
Mortified, you immediately began apologizing.
Sanji behaved as though nothing had happened.
He stopped you by lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm.
“Relax, my dear. You’re doing wonderfully.”
A blatant lie.
“I didn’t even feel it.”
Another one.
Noticing your discomfort beneath the curious eyes of the surrounding guests, he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and leaned close enough for only you to hear.
“Don’t pay attention to anyone else.”
His voice was warm.
“They aren’t important.”
And somehow, after that, they really weren’t.
The music continued.
You found the rhythm again.
And gradually, you had to admit that you were enjoying yourself.
The closeness. The undivided attention. The feeling that, for a little while, the rest of the world had simply ceased to exist.
As though the two of you were the only people that mattered.
As though you were infinitely precious to one another.
That night, after returning to the suite and preparing for bed, both of you were exhausted.
Somehow, even more exhausted than after many of the adventures that had involved actual fighting.
And yet there was a strange lightness to it as well.
Perhaps because you had genuinely enjoyed spending the day together.
Lying beneath the covers, it all felt surprisingly natural.
Probably because we’ve lived together on the ship for so long, you told yourself, attempting to rationalize it.
After only two days of pretending, the routine no longer felt particularly forced.
There was something deeply comforting about his presence.
The effortless courtesy.
The chairs he pulled out for you.
The jackets draped over your shoulders whenever it grew cold.
The way he always insisted you shower first.
The privacy he gave you without ever being asked.
Even sharing a bed.
If it had been anyone else, you weren’t sure you would’ve managed to close your eyes at all.
Yet lying here beside him, with his sleeping hand unconsciously holding yours against his chest, over his heart, it felt as though you’d been doing this your entire life.
Existing in one another’s immediate orbit.
Close. Vulnerable. Safe.
And that frightened you a little.
Because alongside that comfort came hope.
A painful, stubborn hope.
That perhaps, despite everything, there was still a chance he truly thought you were worth loving.
❝Hiding your devil fruit from everyone is the only rule. Unless it's your crush.❞
PAIRING: Monkey D. Luffy ╱ fem!reader
TAGS: fluff, angst, the timeline starts at Thriller Bark and contains spoilers up to Egghead
WORDS COUNT: 13k
LOU'S NOTES: Hi! English is not my first language, so let me know if you see any mistake, I would be very grateful <3
The sea obeyed your voice.
Its waters danced and whispered just for you, caressing your feet and soothing your pains, thrilling your soul with its gentle mirages that carried you back home. Pleased to embrace you in its waves once more. Pleased with your return.
The sea waited for you for centuries. Patient. Longing. Tearful.
No soul had been born who could tame its ferocity. The times were divine, rushing to shore without coinciding with him could be a catastrophe. So it forced itself to endure. To tolerate the pain. To tolerate the desire to see him again.
It remained hidden under the wing of a specific family, protected by them on a remote island in Grand Line, for centuries without being disturbed. They passed the word down from parents to children, grandparents to grandchildren. That devil fruit, kept in a locked chest, with its peculiar conch shell shape that glowed in shades of blue and light blue, was not to be consumed.
The fruit would choose its bearer. Like no other, it would sing to attract whoever it desired, until it made them carry an unknown destiny. Anyone who coveted it wrongly would be punished.
And everyone learned to respect it.
You had always been curious. Why was your family the only one who knew about its existence and could take care of it, when there were so many others on the island? Why couldn't anyone else even get close enough to appreciate it? What was known about that devil fruit was passed on by word of mouth. Your aunt had told you about its appearance during a festival in the village, while dancing with laughter, one jump after another, to the rhythm of "don, don, don, don", but she didn't know if it was real either. Someone else had told her about it.
Your grandmother wouldn't let anyone near the old temple on the highest hill on the island. The task of caring for it was relegated to a few women in the family, those who had the gift of hearing. Hearing what? You thought it was nonsense. How could anyone hear a fruit? As a child, you couldn't make sense of it.
But curiosity kept you awake.
And you understood everything at the age of seven.
A festival to an ancient god was being celebrated in the village. Sitting on a bench —a tree trunk cut down by your father—, you admired those present. There it was again. That rhythm. That dance. It was fun, it was playful, it was free. The huge smiles on their faces were something that only that dance could give.
The dance of Nika.
They did it once a month, as if trying to call him, intending him to join in the fun if he saw them, and something inside you told you that this god would do just that. He would join them with a huge laugh. And the party would never end.
But what was happening here was more than just a party. It was a plea. The people of your village and your family believed that he would return to save them. And someone important would come with him.
You shook your head from side to side, playing with the fabric of your white dress when you heard it.
A melancholic voice sang melodies that pressed on your heart. You were too young to understand the longing behind that song, the pain of loss. Its slowness differed from the joy in Nika's rhythm.
You covered your ears, not wanting to hear any more. But it was calling you. It was making you get up from your seat against your will.
Under the watchful gaze of your grandmother, whom you could not see through the sea of people, you made your way towards the forest. The old woman heard the crying in that song, more intense than ever. It was different from what it always whispered to her. Now it was crying out for you.
You followed the path with a grimace. It was lit by small golden lanterns shaped like flowers. Despite your fear of being scolded for entering the forbidden area, you couldn't help but follow that voice. Its broken song gradually changed, becoming a little more cheerful. Enough so as not to break your heart. You wondered if this is what the song of the sirens sounded like, the ones you read about in your book, the ones who lived on gyojin island.
You stopped in front of the temple. How many minutes had it taken you to climb the hill? You had lost track of time while enveloped in those melodies.
Seeing it up close took your breath away. Tall marble pillars surrounded by ivy stood before you. A glass dome revealed the interior of the place, making your blood run cold.
A golden statue of a woman stood in the middle, surrounded by water. Would you sink if you approached it? Or would it be shallow, free to walk towards it? That woman looked up at the sky with her back to you, her arms outstretched, her fingers curved as if touching something.
Was she singing? Could a statue sing? Or was it...? You searched with your eyes until you found it. A chest rested at her feet, surrounded by vines. As if it had never been touched before.
But something in that voice asked you to. Something in that woman's position begged you for something.
You dipped your tiny feet into the water and a sigh of relief escaped from within you when the water only reached your hips. For an adult, it would reach their knees or lower.
You walked across the slimy ground covered in seaweed, pouting in disgust. Your grandmother protected this place, but it seemed she didn't clean it, given its condition.
The singing grew softer as you got closer. The moonlight made the statue look more beautiful, but its golden colour would shine brighter in the sun.
When you reached its feet, which were in front of your face, you raised your hands to the vines, pulling them off one by one. The chest, once freed, looked old. Conveniently, a key lay beside it. You shook your head in confusion. No one had stolen it in centuries, and you had made it there without anyone stopping you. What were they afraid of? It was silly to fear a fruit. Surely it had some foolish power, like the men on the reward posters that arrived every week. There were a few incredible powers, but there were also fruits that seemed bad to you.
You inserted the key into the lock, opening the chest carefully so as not to break it. You widened your eyes in amazement when you saw it. It shone in shades of blue and light blue, shaped like a seashell. So this was what the devil's fruit looked like. You took it in your hands, not knowing that you were being allowed to do so. Not knowing that your destiny was being forged.
Standing by the island's beach, with the celebration behind her, your grandmother smiled softly. The clock was ticking again.
He had already been born and consumed his fruit, and he had chosen you at the same time to accompany him.
With the sudden violence of the sea that night, the people dancing merrily and a little girl spitting in a temple alone, the old woman welcomed the goddess of the sea.
The "Hito Hito no Mi, model: Naia" had chosen its bearer.
Your growth since that night had been quite an adventure. Your grandmother had told you things, like the name of the fruit and where it came from. The reason why your family had protected it for generations and generations finally had an answer. You were direct descendants of Naia, but the goddess was jealous and refused to choose a woman before the time. You didn't know who she was waiting for, and the old woman didn't have a concrete answer. Only old beliefs that had been instilled in her, which she couldn't vouch for as being true.
But if you were there, in front of her, surrounded by fish that seemed to be talking to you, then there was a chance that he was also in another sea.
The longer you lived in the village, the more miracles happened. The famine ceased with the increasing abundance of fish. Your unconscious attracted large fish and beasts from the Grand Line, which were hunted to feed the villagers. They ate through tears, thanking the sun god for his help, without knowing who was really responsible.
Ships began to stop there. After four years, your voice began to attract sailors, bounty hunters, and pirates. With their visits, the families around you were able to support themselves. The imminent improvement in the standard of living among these villagers caught the attention of the world government. An island was rising and should not remain outside their hands, living according to their laws. Abiding by the rules was the best they could do.
However, no one could accept it. The hatred in their hearts consumed them alive. These people were not the kind who wanted to be protected by the marine or receive the light of the world government by paying tribute. No. These people had their beliefs, beliefs that those above despised. Beliefs for which they would seek to silence them.
Your grandmother knew that your devil fruit would bring trouble. If the legends were true, the search for your existence would be relentless.
A woman with the ability to control the sea was an aberration to everyone who admired her. A forbidden existence hidden like a myth.
But myths had an origin and, in turn, someone who tried to destroy them.
As a very young girl, you had no control over the sea. The strong emotions he was unaccustomed to sent him into a frenzy. Your cries stirred up hurricanes, impossible to stop until your heart was calm again. Your anger violently shook the waves, your sudden outbursts calling forth tsunamis.
Their frequency was not something that the world government —who kept their eyes on the island that was suddenly making a name for itself— could ignore. Marines disguised as sailors or ordinary tourists came and went, reporting what they saw. Was that island changing its magnetic field? After centuries of maintaining the same one? Or was something beyond their control happening?
It was after a huge earthquake and a subsequent tsunami, one that was out of the ordinary, with waves so big that they flooded the coast and left the island without a port, that your grandmother made the decision to expel you. CP0 began prowling the area when you were seventeen. They walked around looking at all the women, with instructions to pay special attention to the youngest ones.
Any who showed abnormalities. Any who seemed to interact unnaturally with the sea. Any who talked to fish.
The one who could be the woman the five elders wanted desperately.
Your grandmother, your aunt, and your mother did everything in their power. Sooner or later, those government agents would find the temple to the goddess Naia, confirming the suspicions of the celestial dragons. That temple, that golden statue facing the sun, was the only one in the world.
Those who knew her believed she had died, leaving no trace of her passage through life, a woman who would never set foot in such a rotten place again. But there she was, laughing in their faces, always hidden, always waiting for the right moment to return.
The three women in your family knew that news of such magnitude would not sit well. Everyone was in danger, not just you. And they were willing to face them as long as they could be reunited.
Your mother pulled you by the hand, all of them covering their mouths to stifle their tired gasps. The forest was the village's domain, illuminated in every corner, trees marked to indicate the paths back home. Your aunt carried a bag of clothes and your grandmother led the way.
They came upon a flooded coastline. Four villagers were holding onto tree trunks, pulling on ropes tied to the boat to keep it steady. They had placed two barrels of provisions inside. You looked at everyone in alarm, not knowing what to say, not wanting to leave.
This island was your home. Everyone had watched you grow up. Why did you have to leave everything behind? Just because of an ancient legend that no one knew was real?
The old woman placed her hands on your cheeks after your aunt had wrapped the bag around your body.
"You must flee, child." She whispered.
You shook your head, frightened. Yes, your devil fruit seemed to control the sea, but you had never sailed. You had never gone out into the world. And you would not be going out onto a calm sea. You lived in Grand Line, and out there were fearsome pirates, the yonko sailed those waters.
"It's for your own good. And for the good of the world." She tucked your hair behind your ear with trembling hands. "One day you'll understand."
"I don't want to go." You whispered, looking at your mother pleadingly.
"It is Naia's will." Your grandmother called your attention again. "You, Y/N, must continue living."
Naia, that mythical goddess again. What did it matter if you were her chosen one for something you couldn't understand?
"Lie. Don't talk about your devil fruit. Don't reveal it to anyone. That way you can survive." Your mother's words squeezed your heart.
"Don't worry about us, we'll be fine." Your aunt said with a smile.
"Destiny will bring the two of you together." Murmured the older woman.
Her kisses on your forehead, the calm sea as the villagers lifted you onto the boat, their hands waving in the distance, your uncontrollable crying.
You didn't know how long you had cried as the small boat sailed on its own course. The sea remained calm around you as it carried you as far away as possible from your native island. An island where government agents searched relentlessly for a young woman who fit the description, interrogating and silently murdering those who refused to cooperate.
At some point, your eyes closed after crying for so long, each tear altering the sea around your island, unknowingly embracing the lifeless bodies of many girls you called your friends, as well as those of adults and elderly women. Among them, your family.
All protecting a goddess who would help a new dawn arrive.
Usopp prepared his bait, ready to catch something. They hadn't put anything in the aquarium for days. Luffy had put another shark in, and it had eaten all the fish, leaving them without provisions, without meat. Their captain was more unbearable than ever, and he had only gone a day and a half without eating meat.
He cast his line, humming his song as he tapped his feet. The sun burned his skin, and the sea seemed particularly calm that day. Would he catch anything if no fish came near the worms he had stolen from Robin's garden?
Zoro left his weight on the ground, opening the window of the crow's nest.
"Oi, there's something shining in the water." He announced.
Usopp raised his fishing rod, looking for his binoculars. Nami and Robin put down their magazines and books and stood up.
"Something shiny? Treasure?" Nami asked, smiling.
"I want to see!" Luffy shouted, opening the kitchen door. His rubber arms stretched out to the deck railing, throwing himself towards it to get there faster.
Robin smiled as she watched him jump up and down excitedly. Soon the others arrived, crowding around the railing. Chopper was lifted up by Zoro, who sat him on his shoulder so he could see better. Sanji stood next to them, smoking.
"We have to catch it!" Said Luffy.
"Oi, Luffy, wait." Usopp murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. "First we need to see what it is from a distance."
"We can always throw it back into the sea." Added Robin.
"You're so scary!" Shouted Usopp.
"Luffy, bring that shiny thing over here." Ordered Nami to the rubber boy, looking excitedly at the glint in the distance.
The captain's arms stretched out as far as they could, pulling the small boat towards the Sunny Go at a speed that the sea offered no resistance to. Refusing to protect her from him.
"I see barrels!" Chopper shouted.
"Super!" Franky celebrated.
"Will they have food? I hope it's in good condition." Said Sanji.
"I hope it's treasure..." Nami said dreamily, clasping her hands together with a huge smile.
"I hope it doesn't kill us." Usopp lamented, thinking it was a trap.
"We can always throw it back into the sea." Robin repeated.
Luffy blinked, tilting his head to one side. Inside the boat was a girl, sleeping as if she weren't in the Grand Line. He pressed his lips together when he noticed the trail of tears on her cheeks. Her eyelashes were still wet, as if she had never stopped crying, even in her dreams.
"Chopper, we have to help her."
The seriousness in his tone alerted the crew. They looked closely, the sun no longer dazzling their eyes, revealing the figure trembling as she hugged a bag.
"We have to get her on board!" The crew's doctor ran to Franky after Zoro brought him down.
They all worked together without asking any questions yet.
There was a girl in their infirmary. A girl who had suddenly appeared amid those treacherous waters, sleeping as if she didn't care about the danger of her actions. A girl who was burning with fever while the little reindeer placed damp cloths on her forehead.
Sanji made tea for everyone while they waited for news from the doctor, curious about her identity.
"I checked her belongings. There was nothing with her name on it. Just clothes and food." Robin commented.
Nami tucked a strand of her short hair behind her ear and sighed.
"All we can do is wait for her to wake up."
"How did she survive?" Murmured Zoro, leaning against the kitchen wall with his arms crossed.
"It's a mystery. Falling asleep in Grand Line with all the pirates around who could have killed her..." Robin shook her head.
"Lucky we found her." Nami acknowledged.
Sanji was holding back, but the soft smile on his face and the multiple turns he made while serving tea told everyone how happy he was with the presence of another woman in the crew. The swordsman insulted him under his breath, earning himself a kick, and then starting a fight.
Everyone ignored them, accustomed to their behaviour. As the hours passed, uncertainty grew among those present. They continued with their activities while you were being treated. All that remained was to wait for you to wake up and tell them about yourself.
You opened your eyes slightly, looking around in confusion. It wasn't your boat. There was no captivating sky above you. There were no waves rocking your body to calm your crying.
You sat up a little on the examination table, leaning on one elbow. The two lamps that illuminated the area provided good lighting. On your left were two small shelves with bottles, their labels showing you the names of their contents. Medicines. Looking to your right, a single desk stood with more medical instruments. Laboratory tubes with different coloured caps, a stone mortar, many books and posters with drawings, from lungs to bones.
But what caught your attention most was the creature sitting in the chair. It looked like a stuffed animal. You had never seen anything like it on your home island.
"Oh! You're awake!" A shrill voice startled you.
Did that stuffed animal talk?
"What are you?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. "Can you talk? Where am I?"
"I'm the doctor for this crew." He climbed onto a stool next to you to examine you.
You seemed to be feeling better. Sanji could prepare something to boost your strength.
"A pirate crew?" You whispered fearfully.
The worst-case scenario was being captured by pirates. You mentally berated yourself for not being more careful. For falling asleep. For not begging harder to stay at home.
"Wait here." Said the little one, adjusting his tiny doctor’s coat as he left what looked like the infirmary.
You found him cute, but you weren’t going to admit it. You had to escape, not succumb to this creature. You found your sandals next to the examination table and put them on. You climbed down, making as little noise as possible, and opened the door again. You found yourself on the deck, its grass making you gasp, but you covered your mouth so as not to be discovered.
You had to survive. You had to hide. That's what your grandmother would have wanted. Your mother. Your aunt. They had all given you the chance to live. You just hoped they were all right.
You ran towards the deck in search of your boat, but growled when you didn't see it.
"Wait! Don't jump!" A female voice shouted behind you.
You turned around fearfully. A beautiful woman with short orange hair was approaching you slowly, careful not to scare you any more.
"I'm Nami. The navigator of this crew." She introduced herself with a sweet smile.
"Am I on a pirate ship?"
"We're not like other pirates." The woman assured you.
"We're good!" Shouted the doctor behind her. "And you shouldn't be out of bed. You could get sick again."
"My angel, allow this cook to be your slave and treat you like the princess you are." Said a man crouching in front of you with a bowl of soup. It smelled good. Did he say slave?
You blinked in confusion.
"Why don't you become my slave and, as your first order, jump off the ship?" Said a man with green hair and two katanas at his waist.
The blond's eyebrow twitched and he turned towards the swordsman, kicking him.
"You're going to scare her." Said a melodious voice. A woman with black hair and bangs looked at you with a sweet gaze.
"You're not going to kill us, are you?" Asked a man with a long nose hiding behind the black-haired girl.
"I thought you were going to kill me."
"Usopp is afraid of cockroaches. You could kill him with that before he tries anything." Teased the orange-haired girl.
"Oi, Nami, why are you telling her that!?"
You watched them interact for a few minutes. They were... funny. Like a little family. They didn't look like the pirates you read about in your books or in the newspaper. The dreaded Rocks D. Xebec, the mighty Whitebeard, the youngest yonko Shanks. They were all intimidating, with powerful crews, but these pirates were strange.
You smiled softly, unaware of the gaze of a certain rubber boy sitting on the lion's head.
His eyes, curious about the girl in front of him, tried to find something he had seen before. Some trace of those tears that soaked your cheeks, as if the pain you carried was greater than you wanted to show. What you hid inside you would one day explode, but until then, until you let him see it, he only wanted one thing from you.
"Join my crew!" He shouted from above. "That way you won't have to go on that little boat."
You looked up, and the air around you seemed unreachable, forbidding you to have it as you lost yourself in that smile, so bright as it melted into the setting sun.
It wasn't like you to trust so quickly. It wasn't like you to wander around with your eyes closed, without trying to figure out other people's intentions. But nothing in his gaze, in their gazes, showed you any hostility or malice. That young man who stood above everyone else as their captain had a calming aura. As if everyone would be fine by his side. As if even the greatest dangers could not disturb them with him by their side.
You knew you could have refused that day. Sailed alone until you found another island. But wherever you went, you would carry the danger with you.
And along with them, you discovered that the danger was represented by their captain.
On your first day after agreeing to join, everyone introduced themselves to you. The doctor was called Chopper, a cute blue-nosed reindeer who loved telling you medical facts, eating cotton candy, and hated the heat. He knew a lot about medicinal herbs and had an incredible dream.
The beautiful black-haired woman was Nico Robin, wanted by the World Government for being the only survivor of Ohara. She was an archaeologist and her knowledge of everything dazzled you. They told you that they had defied the World Government to save her life, and your heart beat faster.
If they knew that CP0 was after you, would they fight for you? Could you be that important to them?
The navigator, Nami, had been part of the crew from the beginning. She liked to buy pretty clothes and treasures. But what fascinated you most was her knowledge of the weather, her ability to anticipate the sea. You didn't need to announce the whispers of those waters if she could interpret them.
The long-nosed guy, Usopp, served as a sniper. His weapon confused you, forcing you to shut your mouth when you saw him use it. He never missed a single shot, always hitting the target. Nami and Robin would bet, and the short-haired girl always won because she trusted him.
The green-haired man was Roronoa Zoro, who had earned a reputation as a pirate hunter. He was serious and slept a lot, but when he laughed, he laughed heartily. He also had a strange obsession with annoying the blond man. The cook with the weird phrases and compliments, Sanji. His meals were a delicacy, and he had taken the time to ask you what your favourite was so he could make it and make you smile.
The man who only wore swimming trunks was the ship's carpenter, Franky. He had built the Sunny Go, and you considered it a work of art. You complimented the aquarium, and the area would possibly become your favourite.
And the captain, Monkey D. Luffy. That boy with his silly rubber devil fruit that made you smile. He was cheerful, playful, and funny. If everyone was here, he must be someone trustworthy.
Everything about him caught your attention.
As the days passed, you allowed yourself to feel comfortable around them. Perhaps this wasn't what your grandmother would have preferred, but if these people were enemies of the world government, then there was no safer place for you and your true identity.
No one could find a faceless girl with forbidden abilities, let alone imagine that she was now a pirate.
You told them what you could about yourself. Saying your name or talking about where you were born was not a challenge. These people did not judge you or pry into your past, not if it did not directly affect them. You discovered that they tolerated being mocked, but they did not tolerate anyone talking to or touching their friends. It was a silent respect for one another, a fondness that went beyond understanding. They were friends, they were where they needed to be. Where they belonged.
And just as everyone had their role in the crew, you couldn't really find yours.
They didn't force you to learn how to fight like an expert, but they wanted to teach you the basics so you could defend yourself.
You couldn't reveal the truth about your devil fruit. You had only mentioned that you had one, but you didn't know its powers. You had never used it to attack, as you had never been forced or needed to do so. You had never seen what it limited you to and what it promised you. With the "Hito Hito no Mi, model: Naia", you could only hear fish and sea creatures. And there was something else. Something you had discovered that embraced you in your darkest moments.
The addition of Brook —a skeleton who played various instruments and sang, which almost gave you a heart attack when you saw him— helped a lot to maintain a façade. His devil fruit had worked after he died. Everyone assumed that yours would awaken when the time was right.
Living day to day, joke after joke, disaster after disaster, was relaxing you.
You played with water pistols with everyone, shared clothes with Nami and Robin (and at night you spoiled each other with face masks and massages), you laughed at Sanji and Zoro's fights, rejected the cook's attempts to take you on a date, played guessing games about what was inside Chopper's laboratory tubes to make him smile, gave Brook ideas for songs while you drank tea together, joined in Franky and Usopp's shooting competitions, betting on who would hit the target. Always trusting the sniper, winning berries that you shared with Nami.
Luffy taught you your little training sessions to learn how to defend yourself. More than once he found you staring at him blankly, thinking you didn't understand how to throw a good punch, when in reality you were just mesmerised. Enchanted by his joy. By his smile. By his disposition. By his beauty.
"You have to bring one arm back and then push with the other! Like this!" He said, frowning in concentration.
Nami and Robin watched them, both leaning against the railing on the upper floor, outside the room the three of you shared.
"Luffy always gets like this when he decides to take on a pupil..." Sighed the navigator. "Luffy, Y/N isn't a kung fu dugong!"
The rubber boy looked at you.
"You're not going to make it?" He lamented, lowering his arms. "Zoro! Lend her one of your katanas!"
"No way." Muttered the swordsman without opening his eyes, trying to sleep.
Preparing your mind and body to improve your defence, those weak blows you used to deliver, was something you never imagined you would have to do when you lived in your village. Keeping up with your captain and the crew's cook was torture. Kicks to the head, hips, legs. Punches to the chin, stomach, nose. They were trying to teach you something you could use in a complex situation, if you didn't have time to hide. Which seemed silly to you.
Luffy's dream was to become the pirate king.
A noble dream. A dream for the brave.
He talked to you about freedom, about how the freest man in the world would be the one who became the pirate king, and you listened to him. He would sit next to you after training, when Sanji left them alone to prepare a snack at sunset. The rubber boy talked about everything and nothing. The words flowed from him as if from an inexhaustible source.
In a short time, you got to know his older brother, Ace, who, impressively, was the commander of Whitebeard's second division. A certain Dadan who raised them both alongside some mountain bandits. A young woman named Makino who always brought them clothes and taught them manners. His grandfather Garp, who served as a vice admiral in the marine and always wanted to force him to join. The yonko Shanks, who was the original owner of his straw hat, with whom he had a mission to return it when he surpassed him. And his brother Sabo, who died as a child and whom he missed madly.
Luffy talked and talked, filling your silences, smiling at you when you said something. Patiently waiting for you to talk about yourself. Eagerly waiting for you to open up. For your freedom by his side. Because that was what he wanted most for his friends. For them to be free.
But what chance of freedom could he give them if he was suffering so much?
His reality hit him like cold water. He was there, and yet he wasn't.
His world was falling apart.
He had lost them all in Sabaody. He believed he was strong, he believed he could overcome anything with enough courage, with enough confidence. If he had them by his side, he could overcome anything that came his way. He would fight for his dream, for the dreams of his friends, for the dreams of the people he met along the way.
He would do everything possible to put a smile on their faces.
So why were they determined to take his smile away? Why did they make them disappear before his eyes? Why did they let him smile broadly when he saved his brother, only to force him to hold him in his arms as he whispered his last words? Why did they have to kill Ace? Why?
Luffy was devastated. Those who were present when he awoke heard his cries of agony in the jungle. His pleas for Ace. His questions about his whereabouts.
He banged his body against the trees. His head against the rocks. He cried uncontrollably, asking, begging, pleading. A soft "thank you for loving me" repeated over and over in his mind, breaking him as he hugged himself.
It was Jinbe who pulled him out of the constant spiral his thoughts were caught up in. The doubts that gnawed at him were stagnating. Luffy wanted to be strong. He wanted to be strong enough not to lose anyone else. He wanted to be strong enough to carry his brother's will with him so that one day he could look up at the sky and smile at him, showing him that he had succeeded. He had become the king of pirates.
The news of Whitebeard's and his commander's deaths spread around the world. It received positive reactions from those who feared them and had been harmed by them. Fear spread throughout the territories that had been protected by this powerful crew. But those who suffered the most were the small family who had raised and watched these brothers grow up in Foosha.
Holding the newspaper in your hands, you read and reread the news. Just like everyone else in the crew, you wanted to be by his side. You could feel where he was. The sea whispered it to you, and you were impulsive. You never measured your actions. You never said enough to yourself. So you stole a small boat on that desolate island where you had ended up after their separation in Sabaody.
You let the sea guide you without a log pose, leading you to your captain. After a few days, you ignored the new newspaper announcing that Luffy had returned to the scene of the tragedy. Two years. You would all be reunited in two years. But you couldn't not go to his side.
You wanted to give him something to hold on to. Something that would give him calm and strength while everyone waited for their reunion.
The sea beasts cleared your path and escorted you somewhere. It took you three days to reach a jungle island. You got off your boat, nervously smoothing your white shirt. You trusted the sea. It wouldn't be wrong. But if Luffy was in this place, how would you get to him without being killed by one of those beasts growling in the distance? Sanji had taught you a few kicks, and your captain a few punches, but you were still weak.
This island was covered in vegetation. The trees stood proudly, as tall as if they were competing with each other to be the first to reach the sunlight. The plants with strange leaves were striking, to the point that something in your mind told you not to touch them. And in the distance, threatening to erupt, you could see three volcanoes.
You entered the jungle, startled by the sound of quick, heavy footsteps running towards you. You looked to your side and your scream echoed through the trees.
A larger-than-normal tiger was approaching you, baring fangs as long as your arm. You froze in fear, falling to the grass as you closed your eyes when it lunged to bite.
"Young lady? I don't know how you got here, but this is no place for beautiful girls."
You opened your eyes when death did not come, and instead there was an elderly man adjusting his glasses in front of you, smiling sideways. The tiger lay between you both, unconscious.
"Old man Rayleigh! Where are you?"
The speed with which you stood up impressed the man in front of you, whose name was Rayleigh. Rayleigh? You looked at him again. He closed his eyes, a gentle smile on his face, crossing his arms. You had read about him. You had read everything about the pirate king and his crew.
"Huh? Y/N?" You looked behind the dark king and there he was. Your captain, completely bandaged, looking at you in surprise. "Y/N!"
His movements were, all in all, normal. He didn't use his powers as he ran towards you and wrapped you in his arms. He seemed to be careful with his body, and he certainly needed to be.
"What are you doing here? How did you get here? How are the others? We were supposed to meet in two years!" His excited voice as he pulled your body close to his using what little strength he had devastated you.
You hugged him back, careful not to disturb any areas where the injury was more severe. You felt a slight tremor in his body as he asked a thousand questions, not giving you time to answer.
Rayleigh watched the two of you thoughtfully, Jinbe joining him at his side, having felt a sudden calling.
"I came by boat." You whispered.
"The little boat? That's dangerous." Said Luffy.
"Young lady, you crossed the Calm Belt and overcame all those sea beasts in a simple boat? You must be very strong." Rayleigh inquired.
"It's not that." Jinbe wanted to say, but the words reached no one but you in your mind.
Your eyes quickly found him, and he smiled at you.
"Oi, Y/N, Y/N, are you going to stay?" Luffy asked with a huge smile, capturing your full attention.
"No. I'd be interrupting whatever is going on here."
"You need to train, you're still weak." He teased.
"I'm not!" You complained.
But you were. The right-hand man of the Pirate King and the first son of the sea smiled amusedly. One, knowing the whole story. And the other, having grown up with a legend.
The sun and the sea belonged to each other. And the sun and the sea were unknowingly facing each other.
"If you don't mind, I have a proposal for you, miss Y/N." Said the gyojin.
Luffy and you stopped arguing and looked at him.
"I would like to train you in gyojin karate."
"Gyojin karate? I'm bad with my fists." You muttered, embarrassed.
"That would be great, Jinbe!" Said Luffy, picking his nose. "But doesn't it only work with gyojin? Will she turn into a mermaid?"
"She'll make it work better than anyone else." Said Rayleigh, walking towards a campfire. "I'll give you a month to talk and for Luffy to recover. Then you'll leave with Jinbe. Is that alright with both of you?"
Luffy nodded, dragging you by the hand towards the campfire.
In a month, he and you grew closer. You discovered all kinds of beetles, a hobby of his that you loved. You made them fight, betting on which one would win, groaning in frustration when you lost. You could never beat him when he had the advantage of knowledge over you.
You fought over the food Rayleigh hunted, receiving teasing from the adult who quickly grew fond of you. In his eyes, you were a sweet girl who needed to bring out that hidden strength. Jinbe only scolded Luffy when he bit your hand before you could take some meat.
It caught your attention how in the mornings your captain was a cheerful boy, giving a huge smile to anyone, but at night he would break down. You slept separately. Rayleigh used to cover him with his cape, and Jinbe covered you with his. But when no one was looking, when they went to the island's shore to talk in private, Luffy would move.
He sought refuge in your arms. He didn't ask for permission. He didn't ask questions. He didn't speak. All you felt were his bandaged arms wrapped around your waist and his face against your chest. If tears wet your shirt and silent sobs shook his body, you said nothing. You stroked his hair silently until he fell asleep, and only after making sure he was, did you sleep yourself.
It was the morning after a nightmare woke him up that you made your decision.
You had done this three or four times in your life. You weren't sure you could do it, but that was the only reason you had visited Rusukaina.
On the shore, you took off your sandals and put your feet in the water. The weakness of seawater, which must bother all users of the devil's fruit, never bothered you. When they said it was an anomaly, this was why.
You stretched your hand out over the water and it rose just ten centimetres. You clenched it into a fist and opened it again. Fifteen centimetres. You closed it again and the water fell, splashing as it formed a puddle. A puddle in the sea. The water was mirrored, confirming your success.
"How can you be there if you ate a devil fruit?"
You looked up, frightened.
Luffy looked at you confused, his head tilted to one side and his lips pursed.
"You didn't eat one then?"
"Luffy..."
"I saw you lift the water."
"It must have been your imagination." You said, smiling nervously.
"No. Earlier on the Sunny Go, I saw you attract the fish. I thought it was Camie, but Camie doesn't eat her friends."
You remained silent.
"It must be great to be able to swim with a devil fruit!" He laughed as he approached you. "What were you doing with the water? Something like fium and splash!"
You scratched the back of your neck while the bandaged boy moved his hands in exaggerated movements. That was just how he was. And you were becoming more attached to him than usual. The way he explained things with the sounds they made made you smile.
"If I tell you, it will be a secret between us."
"Are you going to show me your treasure?" He asked, his eyes sparkling.
"Something like that."
You took his hand, pulling him close to you. You both looked out at the puddle in the sea, so much like a mirror.
With the end of the month and the promise to meet again in two years, you parted ways. The truth about your devil fruit was kept by your captain, who smiled happily at learning more about you. Happy at how little by little you were opening up to them. To him.
He begged you for different tricks with water, bursting into laughter when the sea water weakened him. He understood why Jinbe had to be the one to train you, eager to know how strong you would be in two years. He was saddened when, at night, he no longer had your warmth by his side and your caresses on his hair to soothe his pain and trauma.
But he took refuge in your gift.
That puddle you had created in the sea was trapped in a seashell. You had taught him how to take the enchanted water out and put it back in, with no limit on its use.
He believed it was the best thing in the world after his hat, his brothers, and his crew.
His lonely nights were filled with laughter by the sea. Laughter that had previously only existed in his memories, but which he could now hear and see. The puddle formed mirages, reflecting his memories.
He saw Ace. He saw Sabo. He saw the three of them running through Mount Colubo. Hunting, playing, fighting. He cried at everything he witnessed. Just hearing his brothers being happy, Sabo counting the points in their training sessions, Ace teasing him for being weak, his taunts at seeing his older brother embarrassed when receiving compliments from Makino. It all made his heart ache.
The two years passed more quickly than the crew had expected. The strength they had all gained, their new skills and their new appearances were something to be appreciated.
Your training with Jinbe on a remote island in order to hide your identity had been laborious. You were good at gyojin karate. Your devil fruit responded to you with ease now. You could defend yourself and attack without relying on others, but the adult had told you that you still had a long way to go. The Hito Hito no Mi would not stop there. You still had to awaken it. You still had to learn more with it, without limiting yourself. You could do anything you could imagine with enough determination.
You smiled amusedly when you saw Nami sitting at the bar, drinking alone. You approached her from behind, hugging her and whispering in her ear.
"Are you free tonight?"
The woman, now with long hair, shuddered when she recognised the voice and turned around with a smile.
"Y/N!" Her arms wrapped around you in a big hug. "It's been so long! You look amazing!"
"You look beautiful, Nami." You said, sitting down next to her with a smile.
"Ladies, would you like me to buy you a drink?"
You both turned towards the voice with disinterest, your expressions instantly changing when you recognised it. Usopp was smiling, looking more confident than ever. Nami and you rushed to hug him, starting to talk about everything the three of you had done in those two years. You talked a little about your training, saying that you were now good at karate, proud of your attacks.
As the minutes passed, you met up with the others again.
The Sunny Go was still in the same place you left it, without a single scratch. Seeing most of the crew filled your heart with joy. Those people who had welcomed you with open arms two years ago were finally in front of you again.
Franky whistled and complimented the beautiful women in front of him. His appearance had changed a lot since the past, but he was approached by Usopp, who looked at him excitedly and asked all sorts of questions. Chopper, wearing a new hat and looking cuter than ever, jumped around and hugged Robin excitedly. He had missed everyone dearly. Robin, more beautiful than ever with her long hair, talked about her days with the Revolutionary Army.
Everyone looked healthy, but above all, they looked happy. Happy to be back where they belonged.
But someone was missing.
And just thinking about seeing him again made your heart race wildly inside your chest, wanting to escape.
"I can't wait to see how much Luffy has changed since last time!" Usopp exclaimed with a smile from ear to ear. "I'm so excited to see him!"
"Me too." Said Robin.
You nodded silently, smiling fondly. When the assumption was made that he might have gotten himself into trouble, Chopper offered to go find the three remaining members. The moment the little one left, an irreplaceable presence fell from above.
Brook had left behind his life as a world-renowned musician to return to his beloved friends. They all welcomed him with smiles.
"And I thought you couldn't get any more beautiful…" Commented the skeleton, looking at the three women. "Well… Two years have passed."
He sat down on a barrel and a few strings of his guitar resonated in the air.
"Would you all be so kind and show me your panties?"
"No way!"
Nami kicked him away, while Robin and you laughed.
"Oi! Guys!"
You looked up just as his voice reached your ears. Your big smile matched those of the others, but the sparkle in your eyes hid the longing in your heart, those feelings that had blossomed when you spent a month together, completely alone, sleeping in each other's arms every night. Those feelings you tried to fight, repeating in your mind like a mantra that they would pass if you didn't see him, breaking down when you dreamed of his smile or when you thought of his reaction to seeing you again.
You stayed behind the others with a sudden blush on your cheeks.
You had never seen him without his multiple bandages. And now there he was, stepping onto the deck of the Sunny Go while greeting everyone, wearing an open red shirt that revealed that huge scar.
Luffy had gained muscle. He looked stronger. More confident. And yet, you could see that he was the same as always, that his strength and confidence were centred on the people around him.
The rubber boy looked for you, smiling when he saw you.
Neither of you spoke, at least not out loud, pretending that nothing had happened between you.
The journey to Fishman Island had been quite an adventure. Seeing the underwater world left you speechless. Holding onto the railing, you admired the different schools of fish that surrounded the ship from time to time, circling twice before swimming away. You wanted to reach out and feel them against your skin, but that would have exposed you. The sea water did not weaken you, and the crew knew you had an “unused” devil fruit.
"I think they're greeting you." You looked to your side, to that warm presence.
Luffy was looking at a school of pink fish that had come up to your face to look at you from the other side of the bubble.
"Yes?" You said, amused.
"We could eat them."
"Don't even think about it." You scolded him.
"But you're not a mermaid!"
"But they talk to me. They're friends."
"Friends aren't for eating." He muttered, pressing his lips together.
You giggled admiringly at the little pout he made as his stomach growled. That soft sound from you disturbed the sea animals around the Sunny Go, who were happily swirling around.
"Are there always so many fish? How cool!" Said Usopp, standing next to you.
You snuggled up to Luffy a little, pretending not to know anything. Luffy moved his mouth into a pout to one side, also pretending not to know.
"You're bad at lying." You whispered.
"I'm not." He whispered back.
You laughed, leaving him with Usopp.
Fishman Island was a dreamlike place. Your devil fruit seemed comfortable there, and the mermaids and gyojin looked at you excitedly.
The powerful goddess of the sea, Naia, stood before them.
The legend told for generations spoke of how she was always accompanied by a man. A clingy man who never left her side. A playful man who always made her laugh. A selfish man who never refrained from looking at her with love and wanting her for himself.
That man was the sun god.
They said that when they separated, the goddess cried so much that her tears disturbed the sea. The catastrophe caused by the forced breakup of their love made her sleep for centuries. And at some point, when the sun rose again, she would wake up.
Mothers and children never stopped talking about how they, the inhabitants of Fishman Island, would be the first to recognise her. After all, Naia was a kind of mother to that race.
Everyone wondered who the man accompanying you would be.
Nami and Robin watched amused as the little mermen, mermaids, and gyojin children clung to you shamelessly, asking you to play with them. You had no idea how to refuse. Throughout the banquet, you were here and there, performing water tricks hidden from your crew, entertaining the little ones who were excited by the slightest thing you did.
Jinbe, happy to see your progress and how you were doing in the water, smiled as he drank his sake.
Everyone was having a good time. Everyone except for a rubber boy who occasionally remembered that you weren't by his side and, capriciously, pouted. He calmed down again when they gave him meat, enjoying the party.
You sat down next to him, exhausted. You didn't know what other tricks to do for those children. You took a sip of sake, on the verge of spitting it out when another gyojin child came up in front of you.
"Oi, kids, she's mine for now." Said Luffy, frowning and taking a bite of meat.
You blushed, trying to drink the sake faster. Robin raised an eyebrow at his words, giving the orange-haired woman beside her an inquiring look. They both knew how possessive the rubber boy could be. His hat and his friends were equally important to him. But that phrase… That tone was different.
The impact his words could have on one's life or day was foreign to Luffy. Noticing that what he unconsciously said brought a revolution was not something he cared about.
He continued as if nothing had happened.
And so, his normal behaviour over the following days came as no surprise to anyone. The navigator and the archaeologist watched you both closely, knowing that there was something else going on between you.
Even though your captain sat next to you at breakfast, fighting with you over the portions you hadn't eaten yet (something he would do with anyone), there was something strange about it. The natural way you would slap his hand and growl at him. The way he would bite your hand hard, making you cry out. They did not remember the two of you being so close before Sabaody, two years ago.
You had not had time to develop such a friendship.
And it did not seem like a simple friendship.
One night, when you hadn't yet come to your room to sleep with them, they talked.
"Seriously, if those two are a couple and they didn't tell us..." Whispered Nami.
"I don't think they are. In fact, I think that's where they're headed." Robin refuted.
"If Luffy feels something for her, he won't notice." Growled the navigator, burying her face in her pillow.
The black-haired woman smiled as she sat on her own bed.
"We just have to give them time." She murmured.
"We have to keep an eye on them."
"Without interfering." Robin concluded.
Island after island you visited in the future, day after day that passed, both women decided to give you privacy, paying attention only during dinners. As if reviewing the day, looking for some sign of progress.
It was amid the heat of the flames and the volcanoes about to erupt in Punk Hazard that Robin noticed the first detail: Luffy talked to you like he didn't talk to anyone else.
The heat was unbearable, you could barely stand that kind of hell, ignoring that your captain now looked like a centaur and shouted excitedly that he liked having four legs. If you looked closer, you noticed that the ones at the back, which had just been attached, were barely working. They flew through the air because Luffy's legs did all the work.
You wiped the sweat from your forehead for the fourth time when the smiling boy approached you. He leaned over to you, whispering in your ear.
"Why don't you make something like a sphere of water and hydrate yourself?"
"I can't. There's no source of water nearby." You whispered.
"Your sweat."
You parted your lips, not believing what he had said. Use your sweat? And why was he looking at you like that? With his brow slightly furrowed, as if he had said the most serious, intelligent and obvious thing in the world. You smiled amusedly, patting his shoulder.
Robin noticed it again when all of you arrived on the other side of the lake, where the island became wintry. The small group was shivering from the cold, freezing after falling into the water. The archaeologist sighed as she felt her body warm up, turning to check that everyone was okay, raising her eyebrows briefly in surprise.
Her captain was wrapping a coat around your body, as if it were a practised movement. Neither of you knew that Luffy had actually watched others do this and wanted to try it himself.
Because that's what people who loved someone else did, right? Give them a coat so they would never be cold. Rayleigh had done it for him when they trained together. Hancock had lent him hers to get to Sabaody.
In his mind, if you cared about someone, you should give them a coat.
Although he knew very well why he only wanted to give it to you.
During the banquet, when you walked away to comfort Chopper, who was frightened by Trafalgar Law, the two women sat down to exchange information. Nami hadn't seen anything unusual, so she was surprised to hear about her captain's actions towards you.
The navigator became frustrated when she couldn't stay in Dressrosa, feeling like she was missing out on everything. Robin promised to keep her informed when they met again.
And so she did.
You had signed up with him for the coliseum tournament, wearing one of the many gladiator outfits. Luckily, you had been placed in a different block from Luffy, saving you from a difficult fate. It wasn't time for your competition yet when Zoro came looking for the two of you.
The urgency with which you began searching for the exit made you anxious. Outside, it would soon be chaos, but the thought of Luffy abandoning one of the few physical reminders he had of his brother made your heart ache. You wished you could get it for him, but he had forbidden you to do so. If he left, you would go with him.
You stopped in your tracks for a few seconds when you realised there was nowhere to escape. Encountering Bartolomeo and Bellamy only confirmed your suspicions. It was all a trap and you were trapped in the coliseum, only he knew the way out.
"Luffy senpai, what will happen to the Mera Mera no Mi?" Asked the green-haired man, staring at the wall.
"The lives of my comrades are more important."
You bit your lower lip. A physical reminder of Ace that he couldn't have. A physical reminder that would give him a glimpse of his time in the world, something that would show him that he was there. You could stay in the coliseum without any problems. Win it, take it away in its chest, keep it safe, and run away with it until you could give it to Luffy...
Luffy tugged on your little finger without looking at you to pull you out of your thoughts. Bartolomeo talked non-stop, still facing the wall, about how he had always planned to win it for him. Because he admired him. He admired the whole crew and would do anything for any of you, but especially for the young man next to you.
You turned to look back when approaching footsteps interrupted you. You frowned at the man. He was dressed like a noble would be. And he wore a custom hat.
"I won't let you keep the Mera Mera no Mi, Straw Hat Luffy."
"What are you talking about, idiot?" Bartolomeo growled, walking towards him. "I don't know who you think you are, but to you he is Luffy senpai. Respect him!"
The green-haired man continued talking, trying to intimidate him, but that man was not fazed. He was calm, not taking his eyes off the boy you loved. You began to frown.
"I've known all that for a long time." Said the man, pushing Bartolomeo away.
You stood in front of Luffy, trying to protect him when he started to approach. Your right hand took a familiar gyojin karate stance, and something in the blond's gaze seemed to sparkle in recognition. The rubber boy stood in front of you again, hating that you were protecting him.
But what happened next was something neither of you were prepared for. You stepped aside, your lower lip trembling, unable to interrupt them.
You could only watch your rubber boy crying as he hugged him. His sobs were loud, letting out more than he had allowed himself to do at your side. He apologised. He repeated to the blond that everything was fine and that he shouldn't apologise. The older one thanked him for staying alive.
And you were broken, thanking whoever for this joy in his life.
Living two years of his life believing that he had lost his two older brothers must have been the greatest torture.
In Zou, despite the situation they had to face in Big Mom's territory, Nami and Robin made a space for themselves.
"So, his brother is the second in command of the Revolutionary Army?" The navigator whispered.
Robin nodded. She had kept that secret for two years.
"Sabo noticed something too."
"What?"
"I don't know what happened between the three of them, but when Luffy and Y/N were sleeping after the battle..."
"Separately?" Whispered Nami.
"Yes and no. Luffy was in bed and Y/N was holding his hand, sitting on the floor."
The navigator nodded thoughtfully, waiting for her to continue.
"Sabo said he liked his little brother's girlfriend."
Nami's eyes widened in surprise.
As if Zoro and Franky hadn't heard the revolutionary's conversation too. Now you had two more pairs of eyes watching you from afar.
As night fell, you yawned relaxed in bed. You couldn't be at peace for long. Your stomach churned at the thought of Luffy going to the territory of a yonko without you. It calmed you to think that the friends he was going with were good and trustworthy. Bringing Sanji back was essential.
You couldn't imagine your days without him in the kitchen, occupying every corner and filling the room with his twists and compliments.
The blanket was lifted carefully and arms wrapped around your waist.
"Luffy?" You whispered.
"Mhm."
Your heart skipped a beat. Should you put one hand on his hair and the other on his back like you used to? Should you tell him to go back to his room? To his bed? And not feel his warmth. Not feel his heartbeat. Not comfort him in silence. Since you saw each other again, you hadn't slept together.
"Y/N?" He whispered, resting his chin on your chest. "You must stroke my hair."
His demanding tone, trapped in a pout, made you giggle. He relaxed under your touch. He hadn’t wanted to bother you when you saw each other again, but he had missed this. Your fingers in his hair, the gentle circles traced on his back, waking up without you leaving him.
You had stolen his heart in a month, and he wasn't doing anything about it.
"Sorry." He murmured, his cheek resting on your chest. His tone didn't seem to regret whatever he was regretting in the slightest.
"Why are you apologising?"
"I gave Sabo your gift. The seashell." He whispered without looking at you. "I thought he would need it more than I did."
You smiled, resisting the urge to kiss his forehead.
"It’s okay. I can make you another one if you want."
Luffy didn't say what he was thinking. He knew you would make those magical pools for him if he asked, without needing a seashell. Next time, he wanted to show you everything he had to show.
But that would have to wait.
Wano was unlike anything you had ever seen before.
The suffering of the people in this village made your blood boil. Poor people had nothing to eat, and their water was contaminated. Seeing them live dehydrated, with sick children and rumbling stomachs, pushed you to your limit.
Hiding your identity would be difficult in this country. They needed you, so you allowed yourself to do something in secret. The gentle touch of your hands began to purify the water of the river of Ebisu, the pollution seeping into your bones. You didn't mention it to anyone, it was an experiment. You wanted to know your limits.
The flowing water was clean, perfect for the children, elderly and adults in the area. It was the little you could do while enduring the pollution. You had to find a way to expel it from within you without causing havoc. Throwing it away and contaminating plants, the land for future crops or the sea itself disgusted you.
But maybe, enduring it was your mistake.
Perhaps if you had gone against your principles and stopped trusting Luffy's words, those that promised to save this country, you would not be suffering now. But it was impossible for you not to do so. It was impossible for you not to trust him. You knew he would succeed, because he never lied. He worked hard for what he set out to do.
He was like sunshine in the lives of those who knew him.
You tolerated the contamination in your bones during the battles in Onigashima, but weeks had passed since you received it and your body began to take its toll at the worst possible moment.
You could only hear Nami and Usopp's screams when you stood in front of them. The three of you had a little girl with you. Otama was Luffy's adoration, and putting her in danger was something you would never forgive yourself for. The powers of your devil fruit did not respond in time to counter the threatening attack of the yonko Big Mom, an attack that was aimed at your friends.
The "heavenly fire" struck your body, its impact propelling it and slamming it against the walls. That homie, Prometheus, pushed your body wall to wall, breaking them one by one as if he were on a mission. As if he wanted to kill someone from the straw hat crew.
You spat out a little blood when the fire became more intense. It was burning your torso and arms. If you moved your fingers slightly, you didn't have the strength to call on the sea water, nor to send Prometheus backwards.
A song reached your ears. You opened your eyes slightly, meeting the gaze of the homie, so threatening and sinister. You smiled slightly, knowing you would be safe.
That soft intonation, almost as if a mother were tucking her beloved child into bed, could not be heard by anyone else present on Onigashima. Naia's song was exclusively for you, only heard on special occasions. The first time you heard it, you consumed her fruit. And this time, everything was a mystery.
"Y/N!"
Was that cry from Usopp or Nami? You couldn't see them. You could only watch Prometheus rage at your smile.
A gasp escaped from within you as the force of his attack tripled. The other homies joined him, Hera and Napoleon, carrying you through the hard rock wall.
A beep stunned your ears.
Your body fell from a height impossible to calculate. The abyss drew you into its darkness, and you could do nothing but embrace it.
The severity of your injuries left you with no strength to scream. To call for help. To call out to anyone.
Luffy, your friends, the people of Wano who trusted you. Was this your end? Was this Naia's will, for which you had been expelled from your native island? Did you really have to die like this?
The water engulfed you as you hit hard, sinking you to the depths.
"Announcement to all of Onigashima!"
Bao Huang's shout echoed in every corner. The fighting didn't stop, but everyone was paying attention. Something had changed.
"A member of the straw hat crew has been defeated!"
Usopp growled, wiping away his tears in despair. He felt useless. He should have taken the attack, not let you cover him. He couldn't do anything because of the fear. He couldn't do anything to stop you from falling. Nami hugged Otama, sobbing hard, apologising to Luffy over and over again even though her captain wasn't in front of them. How could she explain to him that she let the woman he loved be killed right in front of his eyes? Everyone's friend? Another straw hat.
"Y/N has been killed by Big Mom-sama!"
At different points on Onigashima, the crew was moved. Different reactions crossed their faces. Anger, sadness, regret. Some, like Chopper and Brook, shouted through their tears that you couldn't have died. That Bao Huang was lying. Others, like Zoro and Sanji, silently continued to fight. You were just as stubborn as Luffy, whatever had happened to you, you wouldn't stop there. Jinbe stopped dead in his tracks as Robin hugged Chopper, looking for something to hold on to before her thoughts consumed her mind.
Luffy's heart scratched at his chest as he was forced to hold back.
He wanted to run to the edge of the terrace. He wanted to look down. He felt the need for his longing to become one with the sea despite his inability to swim. And he felt you. The soft beating of your heart, how weak your pulse was, and how calm the waves were. Could you drown if you were the sea itself? Could your wounds condemn your soul to an irreversible fate?
He clenched his fists, unflinching. One mistake, one moment of weakness, would end everyone's life.
For some strange reason, the news from Bao Huang did not affect him like it did the others, who were crying incessantly.
Luffy trusted you, even when his observation haki could no longer sense your heartbeat.
You had spent a month together. You had slept together. You had shared and fought over food. You had cared for his mind and his nightmares without him asking. You had listened to his whole story and his dreams, while opening up about yours only to him. You had been one of the reasons he was standing there today, fighting.
He trusted you. He trusted that you would be okay.
If your origin was the sea, then you would return to it. And the sea would do its thing to bring you back.
Because you belonged by his side, in a silent agreement that neither of you would break.
In the depths, hundreds of fish and sea creatures surrounded your lifeless body, giving you space, shy to be near their goddess. Your outstretched arms allowed them to see you. The burns on your torso and neck continued to bleed, despite the water's attempts to soothe them. The pollution tolerated for weeks drained away little by little, oozing from your body until it gathered into a sphere.
"Nika, you've got yours!"
"Oi, Luffy! That's my food!"
The voices, clearly reproachful, echoed among those present under the sea.
"Naia! Come jump!"
"Y/N, let's play something!"
A heartbeat.
"Nika, stop moving, you're annoying."
"Luffy, I can't sleep if you move around so much. Go to your bed."
Another heartbeat.
"Naia is mean."
"Y/N is mean, she wouldn't let me eat her food."
Fire ravaged Onigashima. Everyone began to gather in one place, desperately searching for a solution. The captain of the straw hat pirates continued to fight Kaido, filling the atmosphere with anxiety. No member of the alliance wanted to hear any more bad news.
"Even if Straw Hat-ya wins, we'll all die in the fire." Said the captain of the heart pirates. "We have to find a way to put it out."
Nami took a few steps towards the centre, standing next to Marco as some surfaces began to give way.
The sudden tremor in the floor frightened everyone. Several fell to the floor, breathing heavily amid the flames and two powerful presences fighting on the terrace. The navigator held Otama tightly in front of her.
"An earthquake? How is that possible up here?" She said, confused.
"This isn't normal. Something's happening." Robin drew some minks towards the centre with her powers.
"Is Straw Hat provoking it?" Kid growled.
"No..." Law said. "He's still fighting Kaido."
"I sense another presence-yoi."
"It’s not Luffy or Kaido? What’s going on? Robin!" Chopper hugged the archaeologist, crying.
"There’s something in the sea!"
The scream of one of the beast pirates alarmed their opponents, with Law being the first to look into the hole you had made in the wall before dying. His crew had been on the Polar Tang at the moment you fell, but according to their reports, it was impossible to reach your body. A blue sphere surrounded you and the sea beasts threatened to attack them. They could have killed his friends, but something was holding them back. The waves battered his submarine, sending it away every time it approached where you were supposed to be.
One by one, they took clumsy steps to look through the hole, at a considerable distance, afraid of falling. Most of the straw hats did not want to see what was left after your death. The pain in their hearts could not be revealed, and their tears could not be shed. Not until it was all over.
The waves crashed into each other with fury, their directions unnatural. Not even the weather in the New World could explain something like that. Nami left Otama next to a sleeping Zoro, holding onto the wall to get a closer look.
"The water is receding." She whispered. "Everyone, stay in the centre!"
"Oi, oi, Nami, the waves can't reach up here, why are you worried?" Asked Usopp.
"Because of that thing that's taking shape."
The metres receded by the sea rose up in a wave. A wave almost two thousand metres high, immovable. And in its centre, there was a figure. A woman created from water, rivalling a giant in size.
"We won't get out of here alive." Cried Usopp.
"Robin-chan, Nami-swan, I'll protect you."
"Sanji! Me too!" Chopper whimpered.
"She looks like..." Law whispered.
"That's Y/N!" Jinbe shouted.
The entire crew's eyes widened before they began screaming and crying.
"Monster!" Usopp exclaimed upon seeing the figure.
"What is that thing, it's scary!" Nami cried.
"Y/N-chan had that kind of power all along?" Sanji shouted, leaning further out of the hole.
"I'm glad she's alive, yohoho!"
"It's a super miracle!" Franky sobbed.
"What a peculiar shape..." Robin murmured thoughtfully. "Do you know anything about it, Jinbe-san?"
The gyojin smiled broadly.
Naia had returned.
"I would recommend everyone stand in the centre and hold each other. Y/N is going to do something."
You cupped the water in your hands. Just as you had practised for two years, you had no reason to be nervous. Your body felt healthy and light as you became the sea itself. The burns would still be there once you broke this form, but now it was enough. Jinbe had trained you relentlessly so that you could achieve his hikishio ipponzeoi.
You prepared your attack and, without hesitation, half the sea was thrown towards Onigashima.
The flood was unprecedented.
The fire was completely extinguished. The devil fruit users weakened. The few gyojin who were there saved everyone from being swept away by the waves. Nami carried Otama, Usopp saved Robin, Sanji held Zoro, Franky grabbed Brook, and Jinbe put Chopper on his shoulder. Everyone in the crew smiled as they looked out to sea, where your figure stood in all its grandeur and splendour. To say they were surprised would be an understatement. They had so much to ask you. Two wanted to apologise for everything you had been through. A certain swordsman would seek you out to train when he woke up and heard the news. The archaeologist wanted to know everything about your devil fruit and its rarity.
You were something that transcended the unnatural.
"Shishishi!"
You looked up at the island's roof. Luffy, in a strange white form, floated in the air, reclining with his arms behind his head. His beautiful pink eyes looked at you fondly. And amid all that radiant happiness, you could see tears threatening to escape.
"Thank you for coming back, Y/N."
The land of Wano made headlines worldwide. The bounty posters were updated. The crew now belonged to a yonko, straw hat Luffy.
It made you happy to see how he was getting closer and closer to fulfilling his dream. And, in turn, how you were now one of the members with the highest bounty.
You held the poster in front of your face, grimacing from time to time as you felt Chopper's hooves on your burns, applying an ointment that he claimed was excellent. You would be left with scars on your neck and chest, but you couldn't dream of leaving that country without a scratch. You didn't regret defending your friends.
Although Nami and Usopp never left your side, the sniper crying and hugging you every time you passed by him, and the navigator offering you berries (something she wouldn't normally do with anyone) and multiple strokes on your hair.
You paid attention to your photo on the poster. It was you, from head to toe, every little detail, every tiny imperfection, but all loved by the sea. The sea goddess you had awakened had been captured and everyone admired her. For some she was terrifying, for others magical.
You smiled dumbly. You couldn't always use such a powerful attack, but being immortalised like this was nice. You traced the numbers with your index finger, curious about the insane sum.
Why was your head suddenly worth 1,000,000,000 berries? You had only died, come back to life, and extinguished the fire on Onigashima. Perhaps you had also purified all the water in Wano, and Trafalgar Law had used his devil fruit to remove the pollution from inside you. But that was not something others could know.
You never got a straight answer to that.
Egghead was about to be a disaster. CP0 was on the island with clear instructions. Your boots echoed on the floor as you stepped aside to wait for Luffy. You were supposed to take him back to Labophase, but he was more interested in facing an old enemy he had encountered again.
You looked up, entranced. His Gear 5 was mind-blowing. Everything he could do with his devil fruit, the ease with which his brain came up with new ideas, it all made you laugh. Not to mention the floor, which now made you bounce.
Vegapunk hurried over to the monitors.
"Have the white and blue warriors appeared yet?" He asked, his eyes shining as he caught sight of Luffy laughing. "Tell me about those transformations. The white one from Straw Hat and the young girl on her wanted poster."
"We don't know, to be honest." Said Nami. "Luffy's is the Gomu Gomu no Mi, but Y/N's is unknown to us."
The scientist pressed his lips together, holding back a smile.
"There is no fruit with that name in the devil fruit encyclopaedia!"
The crew gasped, unable to comprehend.
"What? That's impossible!" Exclaimed the navigator.
"Luffy always says gomu gomu when he attacks." Added Usopp.
"Look how beautiful he is! I'm sure she is too!" Rambled Vegapunk, raising his hands. "It's fate! I didn't expect to meet them like this."
"If you know anything, tell us. Y/N-chan doesn't talk much about herself." Sanji requested.
"What happened to those two?" Franky asked, approaching the screen to look at the two of you.
Luffy was still floating there laughing, and you looked at him with a sparkle in your eyes.
"They look like gods."
The cook choked on his own words, unable to believe it.
"Luffy a god? He's an idiot!" He shouted. "Y/N-chan is a goddess, that's true."
Robin looked at Vegapunk in surprise.
"Are you saying that those appearances we saw are those of gods?"
"Yes." Said the scientist, his expression turning serious. "The warrior of liberation. He who plays the fool and brings smiles to all. The sun god, Nika!"
The few crew members present were surprised. The answers that no one else could give them were in the brain of this man who stared at the screen excitedly. Eager to talk. Eager to educate the world.
"And the goddess he loves, the one capable of punishing everyone for him. The goddess of the sea, Naia."
Nami shook her head, approaching Vegapunk.
"Nika and Naia? I've never heard those names."
"Of course not. Their names were erased from history." The scientist said abruptly. "Nika and Naia were inseparable."
The revealed legend left them speechless. In the end, the archaeologist was right.
It was best not to interfere.
The sun god felt a deep longing for the sea. Seeing it every day made him feel free, and he wanted to reach it more than anything else. Then, one day, he met its goddess. He thought she would help him help. If he could make people laugh, then she could give them freedom.
Naia was closed off, only willing to care for those she loved: the gyojin, the mermaids, the mermen. Opening the doors of her heart to let Nika in went against her principles. He knew how to make her laugh effortlessly with a joke or a silly expression. He fought with her over food, hitting him every time he wanted to eat a fish. He invited her to have fun jumping with his friends. He asked her to do water tricks for him.
Falling in love with each other was natural. Nika always admired her foolishly, his gaze never leaving her. He loved her loudly with his actions. He loved her silently with his words.
Naia always looked up, because he loved to float. He shone in a way that only he could. Her love was protective, ensuring that he never lost his smile. That he never shed a single tear.
For him, she was freedom. And for her, he was.
Someone feared their powers together, the ease with which people became attached to and trusted them, asking them for things they could give them. So, under false pretences, he murdered the sun god.
The two lovers agreed to meet again when destiny required it. When the time came. First, Nika would return, accompanied by a man who shared his ideals of freedom. Then, Naia would notice him. Her living love.
That devil fruit that had eluded the world government for centuries, and that devil fruit that was believed to be non-existent, would wait to be reincarnated.
Nika would choose who would bring a new dawn to the world, and Naia would take into her sweet arms the one who would support him on his journey. A mystical love, a destined love. Unconsciously, their successors would love each other just as they had.
Because their souls resonated. Their souls yearned for each other. Their souls waited.
And that statue that had been looking —alone, hidden from everyone with its arms outstretched— at the sun for centuries, would finally be able to feel his skin under her fingers once again.
“you’re such a ray of sunshine!” thanks! one day i chose to act happy and then i kept choosing it over and over and over and over until the neurological pathways formed like desire paths in the thicket. i dug and clawed my nails into the grooves of my brain and carved out joy. i retouch it every day.
when you joined the crew, to sanji, it was like nami and robin never existed, or any other woman in fact. you’d been blessed with one of the most beautiful devil fruits that gave you the ability to produce any plant whether it was flowers, herbs, weeds and poison meaning your were a natural at healing. you had just the sweetest soul too, helping him in the kitchen, leaving gentle lingering touches in his face, using your ability to make him seasonings he’s never tried before, the list goes on!
the sunny was decorated in all types of flowers making your presence known to all of the crew. usually you were in the sick bay helping chopper but this evening you find yourself in the kitchen instead. you were sat on the counter, peeling oranges and putting the peels into a pot while you pushed the slices into sanjis mouth as he baked.
“what are the peels for, mon coeur?”
you slipped from the counter, padding off to the sink and filling the pot with water to boil. You moved to stand next to sanji, placing the pot on one of the free stoves.
“s’a simmer pot. makes the room smell nice when you boil it.”
you turned on the stove, hands raising above the boiling water as fresh sage and bay leaves fell from your palms. sanji’s lovesick gaze never left you as the fruity scent started to fill the kitchen.
“hand me a cinnamon stick sanji.”
sanji was snapped out of his hazy thoughts, his long arm extending to the other side of the counter and was brought back with a cinnamon stick in hand. when you put it into the pot it might’ve created the most heavenly smell sanjis smelt in his life.
you gently stirred the pot, signaling for sanji to hand you another orange. he peeled it for you, dropping them into the pot. the kitchen fell into a silence, a comfortable silence.
you felt an orange slice press against your lips, graciously accepting it with a smile as he returned the favor.
the kitchen was now filled with the sent of cinnamon-y oranges and the late night pasta sanji had over the stove.
he turned off his stove, setting his pasta into a bowl and decorated it in marinara sauce. your eyes were stuck on those slender fingers of his while you mindlessly stirred the simmering pot. he placed the plate of pasta on the candle lit dining table before coming back to you to wrap his arms from behind.
sanji smelled like smoke and hints of lemon. it went nicely with the scent of the room. it made you a little dizzy too.
he took your hand, thumb rubbing the back of it with a tenderness that only he could give.
“may i take you out for dinner, mademoiselle [᪥]?”
you turned off your stove, turning in his arms to face him. you took a few seconds to think like you were pretending to think when you were already going to say yes. just before the worlds could leave your mouth, you saw a suspiciously long arm enter the kitchen, feel up the table and grab a big portion pasta off of the plate. the hand zoomed out just as quickly and you looked back up at sanji.
“well..”
he raised his visible eyebrow at your mumble, turning around just to see the same stretchy arm once again on the plate, this time taking the entire dish.
now sanji did almost yell his captains name out loud but brushed your face with his hand with an apologetic look before swiftly leaving the kitchen. all you heard was yells and luffys oh so familiar giggles coming from the deck.
oh well, maybe next time.
a/n from lay ⨾༊·˚: wow i am getting consistent i wonder how long i can keep this ideas up for 🤤 if everything goes right usopp fic will be delivered tomorrow ❤️🩹🙏🏽. this can be depicted as opla i guess but not really what i had in mind.
summary: it was cute, at first, the way the young straw hat wearing captain clung to your every word and watched you like you had strung together the very sea that he loved so much. it became extremely annoying, however, when you realized you had fallen for him, too— even harder.
or: luffy discovers something he loves more than food.
warnings: reader is a chronic flirt, rivaling even sanji. slight tension, banter, luffy is intoxicated by reader, reader is manipulative– not in a toxic, icky way but in a way that drives luffy (and poor sanji) insane. *clears throat* walk him like a dog, sis, walk him like a dog…..
the sun was already up, as you made your way across the deck of the merry. zoro was still in his sentry soldier stance, guarding the ship from whatever he had envisioned the biggest threat to be. nami was scolding usopp about using her pen to scribble down ideas, and sanji, judging by the sweet scent wafting through the air, was cooking lunch.
“looking good, zoro. if you hadn’t acknowledged my presence, i really would have thought we got a new statue to decorate the ship.”
zoro eyed you, the slightest hint of amusement on his face, “i see you’ve finally woken up. nice of you to join us today, you almost missed the part of the day when the sun isn’t the highest point.”
“perfect timing to sunbathe…”
“i beg you not to.”
“can’t stand the sight?”
“i can’t stand the way the other two act around you…”
at this you smiled to yourself and crossed your arms, “they’re cute. it’s rather amusing…”
“to you.”
“you could ease off our poor captain… sanji at least can take it.”
“no he can’t!” you snorted, “the first time i flirted back at him, he collapsed.”
this made zoro smile, looking more amused than you had ever seen him, “i know. but it never gets old…”
you grinned at him, shaking your head slightly. you had formed some kind of odd friendship with zoro. you had bonded over the stupidity of most people and barely attainable aspirations. you nudged him once as you brushed past him and he acknowledged you with a non irritated glance.
“he was looking for you, by the way.”
“sanji?”
“probably. but no…”
you smiled to yourself, despite the attempt you had really made not to get attached, “where is he?”
“his usual spot…”
you started up the curved horns of the ram’s head, but you didn’t make it far before there was an enthusiastic inhale and a head appeared over the edge. “there you are!”
“captain…” you smiled up at him and tried to remember when they stopped being forced and only an act.
each time you addressed him as captain, luffy swore he malfunctioned just a little bit. he pulled you the rest of the way up, dragging you directly into his lap like he forgot there were others around.
you hummed contently, “good morning…” what you had meant as a quick greeting kiss, luffy always escalated. he pulled you closer, kissing you with the fervor of a man that had not, in fact, seen you eight hours previously. you tilted your head slowly as luffy traced down your neck. you put a hand on his chest, steadying him with a breathy laugh.
“luffy—“
“hmm?” he pulled away from you slowly, eyes glossy and pupils blown.
“let me at least eat first…”
“oh, great idea! i could go for seconds!”
you eyed him in amusement, huffing slightly as he dragged you down the figurehead and towards the gulley. “good morning, beautiful. i was wondering when you’d show up… luffy was wandering around like a lost puppy waiting for you.”
luffy gave you an innocent smile, blushing slightly.
it hadn’t always been like this. you had no intention of falling for the captain at all, or forming any kind of romantic relationship. you had heard of a crew going to the grand line and taken your opportunity. sanji, tending the bar at the time, had told you everything with only one coy smile to him. you had taken one look at the crew and rethought your odds greatly– but you had been proven wrong again and again and the straw hat crew had turned your entire world on its side.
even the captain seemed to be fond of you from the beginning. luffy was always checking on you, always asking for you specifically to accompany him when off the ship. it had originally made it easier to make more requests, it had been easier to get anything you needed— though anyone on the ship wouldn’t have hesitated to make sure you were comfortable and taken care of— and it was even easier to actually fall for him.
the small smiles that got you anything, the slight brush of his arm that had him stopping whatever he was doing and giving you his full attention… it had shifted to something beyond just an end goal— you had wanted to be around him. you wanted to greet him before anyone else… you wanted those few touches to linger and shift into something else.
you still felt guilty— dragging him along on whatever self serving agenda you had. but then it had become real and you were more scared than you had ever been. because that wasn’t supposed to happen. you were never supposed to stay with this crew… you were never supposed to fall for the captain in a straw hat, but now that’s all you wanted.
you had told luffy once, on the quiet of the ram’s head, that you were sorry. you hadn’t meant to use him and that you promised now it was real.
luffy just looked over at you with those constant soft eyes, the smallest smile on his face, “i know that. at the time i just thought i was so lucky to spend time with you. i knew you would never actually go for someone like me… but then the more time i spent with you, the more i realized you were perfect for me. and you were always meant to be here with me.”
shit.
you had cried then.
and every wall you had put up and every brick you had placed to be independent and on your own shattered. because you wanted him. you wanted to be with the captain of the straw hats. you wanted to be by his side when he found the one piece, more than you ever wanted anything.
it was impossible to hide from him, you learned quickly. he was always there— circling you, looking out for you, telling you what was wrong when you hadn’t even been able to identify it yourself. horrifyingly, you fell for him fast. he defended you in arguments even against zoro, he had protected you on more than three occasions, as if it was just the only thing that had ever crossed his mind to do.
you fell hard. and he loved you with every bit of himself, just like he did everything else. sometimes he was dizzying, sometimes he took your breath away just by the sheer force of him—
“are you alright?”
a hand settled on your shoulder as you leaned against the barrier, elbow brushing against the orange tree. you glanced over at the soft brown eyes under the familiar black curls.
“i’m good, luffy… very good.”
“you were thinking about something…”
it wasn’t a question.
“you.”
this made luffy grin like a kid on their birthday, overlooking their stash of presents. “i like hearing that…”
you smiled to yourself and let your head fall on his shoulder. his hand was there immediately; pulling you closer, grabbing you, always acting as if he hasn’t seen you in years. you placed a delicate kiss under his jaw and he pulled you fully into his lap with a grin.
“oi, lovebirds! remember we can see you.”
“ah, i think it’s charming… look at how pathetically whipped our captain is. if his eyes could be heart shaped i think they would be.”
“sanji, not everyone is as hopelessly romantic as you.”
“and yet she landed with luffy and not me…”
you smirked to yourself, glancing over your shoulder at sanji, “are you jealous, gorgeous?”
sanji muttered a curse under his breath as you batted your eyelashes with a grin. he still couldn’t handle female attention— and you still thought it was great fun to mess with him.
“sanji!” luffy huffed, crossing his arms and pouting, “stop flirting with my girlfriend!”
sanji gaped, stammering over protests, “i— i wasn’t! i wasn’t, luffy! she—“
luffy snorted, cackling like it was the funniest joke in the world. sanji cursed again, looking at you like you were responsible for his constant torment and verbal assaults.
you smiled innocently, eyes sparkling mischievously. zoro was nearly as amused as you; always thoroughly enjoying jokes at the cook’s expense.
“i don’t see why you’re laughing, mosshead! she tried flirting with you, too! you just are broken or something!”
zoro snorted, smirking in even more amusement, “i happen to remember that i was the first one she tried fighting…”
“usopp was the easiest. i think he was too easy… he was tripping over his own jaw when she winked at him.”
nami rolled her eyes, glancing between you and luffy, “for all the torture she put you boys through, i don’t think she planned on falling for that one.”
sanji grinned, “she certainly didn’t. i would have been the obvious choice…”
“oh, yes. the blond haired blue eyed cook.”
“well it wouldn’t be the mosshead!”
zoro snorted and luffy had reappeared to shove sanji in the face with an irritated expression. his overprotective jealousy was rather adorable to you. his possessiveness when any male gaze was on you was more amusing to the crew than his love for food— until it was directed onto them.
“luffy, be nice to sanji. he really tried…” you winked at sanji playfully and sanji huffed. you turned your attention back to luffy, fingers sliding up the space of his stomach between his unbuttoned shirt, “he just couldn’t compete with brown eyes and black curls…”
luffy melted into you, tensing and breathing in slowly, eyes dilating as if hit with an adrenaline shot. he leaned in towards you, eyelids heavy and mouth parted just slightly; now looking remarkably like he was drugged or in a trance.
you grinned up at him, looking innocent despite your hands on either side of his shirt. luffy’s eyes softened, though there was still that slightly wild look about him. you placed a quick kiss on his jaw and his smile grew. he put his hand on his hat, like he always did when you kissed him— like he was preparing to be knocked off his feet.
“the hair, huh?” luffy’s eyes sparkled, smiling softly with the faintest teasing expression. you smirked faintly, tilting your head, “among other things.” you straightened his shirt that you had messed up, smiling up at him.
“you’re still happy here?”
you paused, as if offended by the question.
“with me? you don’t regret it? you’re still…”
“luffy.” you turned to face him fully, “i plan on following you to the end… until you find the one piece and become king of the pirates…”
“or until you’re sick of me…” he said it like he believed it.
you shook your head, “no. i think we’ll both be old and grey and retired on a beach somewhere before that happens…”
luffy beamed, seeming to stand straighter and get closer. he kissed you again and there was collective groans from the crew. they had thought— perhaps hoped— that the pda and luffy being all hands and puppy eyed and pathetic for you would be a phase you would grow out of.
may I please I request a Luffy x fem reader where Luffy has an oblivious crush on the reader, maybe with some bits of Luffy being jealous. thank you :)
Oblivious Crush
Summary: Luffy has an oblivious crush on you and unfortunately for him, you don't notice too
Song: One Dance - Drake
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
The first time you noticed something was off about Luffy was when he punched a hole through the mast of the Going Merry—not out of anger, but because you'd laughed at something Usopp said.
His face had gone weirdly blank, straw hat shadowing his eyes, before his fist just… went through solid wood like it was made of wet paper. "Whoops," he'd said, grinning that impossible grin of his, but his voice was higher than usual.
You'd chalked it up to another Luffy Thing, until it kept happening: the way he'd suddenly materialize beside you during meals, elbow knocking over Sanji's carefully plated dishes, or how he'd startle Chopper mid-examination by demanding to know if you thought his new scar looked cool.
By the third week, even Zoro had stopped napping through it. "He's being weird," the swordsman grunted one afternoon, watching Luffy—who was currently hanging upside-down from the rigging—drop an entire orange into your lap without explanation.
You'd barely peeled it before he snatched half the segments with a speed that would've made Nami's temper flare, if she hadn't been too busy rolling her eyes.
"Weirder than usual," you corrected, spitting out a seed. Zoro just gave you a look that said you're somehow dumber than he is.
The jealousy was subtler than you'd expect from a man who announced his hunger like a naval siren. Like when Buggy's new recruit—some grinning idiot with a sword twice his size—had dared to challenge you to a duel on that last island.
Luffy hadn't even let the guy unsheathe his weapon before clotheslining him into the next cove with a rubbery arm, then immediately pretending to pick his nose like he hadn't just committed assault.
"You looked busy," he'd said later, shrugging, except you'd been sharpening your knives. Not exactly a high-stakes activity.
And then there was the hat. Your hat, the wide-brimmed one you'd stolen from a Marine captain last summer, salt-stained and perfect for napping under.
Luffy had started stealing it when he thought you weren't looking, only to return it hours later smelling faintly of meat and his own stupid, sun-warmed hair.
You'd catch him adjusting it over your head with a concentration usually reserved for fighting warlords, fingertips brushing your temples like he was afraid you'd vanish if he pressed too hard.
"There," he'd say, satisfied, as if he hadn't just reordered your entire world with two syllables.
The breaking point came during a storm so violent even Nami looked nervous. Lightning split the sky as you wrestled with a loose sail, rain turning the deck into a hazard, when suddenly—warmth.
Luffy's arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his chest plastered against your back like a human shield against the downpour.
"Don't drown," he muttered into your sopping hair, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and for a heartbeat, you forgot how to breathe.
Then he was gone, tackling a wayward barrel before it could hit Usopp, laughing like nothing had happened.
That night, curled in the women's quarters with Nami's soft snores filling the dark, you pressed your face into the stolen hat still damp from the storm. It hit you then, slow and inevitable as tide coming in: Luffy didn't do subtle.
The mast, the oranges, the way his sandals squeaked when he pretended not to be following you—this was him screaming without making a sound. You sat up so fast Robin stirred in her sleep, heart hammering.
Holy shit. Holy shit. Luffy was—
Morning found you bleary-eyed at the galley table, nursing coffee thick enough to stand a spoon in.
Sanji slid a plate of eggs toward you with a smirk. "Captain's been asking for you," he said, nodding toward the deck where Luffy was—of course—balanced precariously on the figurehead.
As if sensing your gaze, he turned, straw hat tilting back to reveal that grin, bright as the dawn behind him. Your stomach did something complicated.
You were so fucked.
The realization settled like gunpowder in your veins—dangerous and liable to blow at the slightest spark. Luffy, who'd once headbutted a sea king for stealing his meat, was currently watching you eat with the intensity of a man starved.
When you accidentally met his eyes, he didn't look away. Just tilted his head, curious, like you were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. You choked on your toast.
Nami chose that moment to slam her weather logbook onto the table, making you jump. "Either tell him or stop making that face," she muttered, not even looking up from her charts. Your cheeks burned.
Across the deck, Luffy stretched one rubbery arm to snag a passing seagull mid-flight, entirely unsubtle. The bird squawked indignantly as he reeled it in, examining its wings with exaggerated interest.
"Hey," he called, holding it out toward you, "think this one's faster than Buggy's guy?"
The sheer audacity of it punched a laugh out of you. That was the thing about Luffy—he didn't do hints, didn't do half-measures. If he wanted something, he reached for it with both hands.
And right now, standing there with a baffled seagull in his grip and sunlight caught in his lashes, he was reaching for you. The knowledge hit like a cannonball to the chest: inevitable, devastating, exhilarating.
You stood so fast your chair clattered to the deck. Time to find out if rubber could burn.
You crossed the distance before you could second-guess it, stopping just shy of where his toes curled over the figurehead's edge. The seagull, sensing its opportunity, pecked his wrist and flapped away.
Luffy didn't blink. "You're staring," you said, your voice steadier than your pulse.
His grin widened. "Yep." Simple as that. No pretense, no games—just Luffy, laid bare in a way that made your ribs ache.
You swallowed hard. "Why?"
He cocked his head, considering. "Same reason I punch things that piss me off," he said, like it was obvious. "Feels right."
Then, before you could process that, he leaned forward—too far, too fast—and your hands shot out to catch him on instinct.
His chest collided with yours, warm and solid, his breath a laugh against your cheek. "See?" he murmured, fingers tangling in the fabric of your shirt. "Told you."
Behind you, Usopp's poorly stifled gasp was loud enough to wake the dead. You didn't turn. Couldn't. Not when Luffy's thumb was tracing the hinge of your jaw like he'd mapped it in his sleep, not when his eyes were dark with something hungry and new.
The ship swayed beneath your feet. Or maybe that was just you. "You're gonna fall," you managed. Luffy's grin turned wicked. "Nah," he said. "Got you."
And damn him—damn him straight to hell—he was right. . . .
Enjin sneaking and slipping into your bed from behind you, slithers his big, inky hands up along the curves of your hips up to the smooth skin beneath your shirt of your rib cage. greedy, inquisitive lips kissing slowly, suggestively at the back of your neck to the slant of your soft shoulder. you softly, tiredly mumble him a whispered enough and he whines a little, continuing on kissing your neck, stopping just at the juncture of your jawline, watching you peer swiftly over your shoulder.
"baby, I've missed you, please let me have this"
"En', no. I'm too tired, I've been on non-stop missions for the past few days, besides..." you slightly adjust yourself a bit, maneuvering the comforting blanket from your body to showcase a deeply nuzzled and coddled Dear sleeping ever so close to your chest. cute tiny little arms holding on to you with a grounding grip, snoring lightly. peacefully.
Enjin groans, irritatingly. slumps his head against your shoulder defeated, then sharply gazes down at the sleeping younger cleaner clinging onto his partner.
"what's he even doing in here anyways? shouldn't he be with Bro or something?"
"Enjin, stop. he had a nightmare, poor baby, and Bro is currently away on a mission. so get over it."
again, Enjin exceeds an annoyed protracted groan, but with more rolled vexation and provocation of not having his alone time with you. and solely, only with you. he rests his chin onto your shoulder, then catches a quick glimpse down at the now awakened young cleaner. smugly grinning up at him, snuggling closer into your warmth and tenderness.
and Enjin could feel his blood vessels pop rigorously along his neck and forehead. the knowing, menacing glint shimmering in the young cleaners eyes, triggering something so frenzied.
I'm giving Lucci the biggest honor I can bestow upon my favorite characters: dad.
Pairing: Rob Lucci x f!reader
When people see your children they always tell you they look like you pressed Ctrl + C ond yourselves and then Ctrl + V. Girl, you birthed your clones. They boy is a carbon copy of his dad, ice cold glare and all; whereas the girl is your exact twin.
Rob as a parent is... certainly something. He was not trained for this, and still there he is being a dad in his extremely unorthodox way. He loves them, you are sure of that, in his own twisted way, but he doesn't know how to properly express it.
You nearly fainted the first time he told you he had put down the children. (They were sleeping)
Rob is not a parent who is overly affectionate or expressive with his kids, but a parent who spends the entire night by their side when they get sick.
He is a parent who at the ice cream parlor, whenever they chose a different flavor, he always orders their favorite for himself, because he knows that at the first lick they are not going to like it and will want his.
He is a parent that always leaves comforting moments to you, but that decimated an entire crew when he suspected they posed the slightlest threat towards them.
He is a parent that will tolerate having them climb onto his lap while he works on paperwork which is HUGE coming from him. There was one time a rookie agent knocked at his office's door while was just writing a small missive and nobody saw them ever again.
He is a parent who will endure his daughter's constant babbling without a single complaint, and I pity those who dare to complain.
He is a parent who wants to train them to become government assassins and you, on the other hand... do not. You'd rather have them chose their own path that does not involve killing, but know that Rob will eventually sneak some lessons.
He is a parent who thought having a family would make him weaker and vulnerable, but instead it made him even more dangerous than he already was.
edit because I forgot to add up this image that perfectly sums up how Rob is a parent:
annaxmalina
pixelskylines
titsay
jacobvanloon
andulkaphoto
baratheonpilled
vaporwave
blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
