ushiromiya

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"yes?"

"are... are you okay?"

"perfectly."

helmeppo stood beside him blinked.

"...you've been staring at luffy's pirate ship for twenty minutes."

"...i'm waiting."

"...for?"

koby adjusted his glasses.

"...her."

poor helmeppo...

he looked even more confused.

before he could ask another question, loud laughter echoed across the harbor.

"KOOOOOBYYYYY!!!!"

koby froze.

there you were.

the straw hat pirate casually hopped off the sunny's railing as though you weren't trespassing into marine headquarters.

you landed gracefully before him, hands tucked behind your back, wearing the brightest smile he'd ever seen.

"hi!!!"

"..."

"..."

"...hello."

good.

great.

his voice didn't crack.

progress.

you tilted your head.

"aren't you gonna arrest me?"

"...yes."

"really?"

"...yes."

"right now?"

"...yes."

"..."

"..."

"...okay."

you simply stood there.

koby frowned.

"...what?"

"nothing."

"why aren't you running?"

you smiled innocently.

"because i'm waiting."

"...for what?"

"for you to do your job!"

his brain had already started buffering.

you giggled.

"come on, marine. aren't you supposed to catch me?"

he took a deep breath.

don't panic.

garp told you she'd try to distract you.

stay focused.

you can do this.

he stepped forward confidently.

"in the name of the marines, i am placing you under arres..."

you suddenly leaned in.

"...your freckles are cute."

"...what?"

"your freckles."

you pointed at his face.

"they're adorable."

his entire face exploded into scarlet.

"t-those have nothing to do with..."

"do you count them???"

"w-what?!"

"i would."

"kyaah?!"

he stumbled backward so hard he nearly tripped over his own boots.

you covered your mouth to hide another laugh.

too easy.

koby quickly shook his head.

no.

not this time.

he clenched his fists.

"nice try."

you blinked.

"...hm?"

"your— y-your tactics won't work today!"

"...tactics?"

"yes."

"what tactics?"

"the..."

he pointed accusingly.

"...t-th-the flirting!"

you gasped dramatically.

"me?"

"yes, you!"

"captain koby, are you accusing a poor pirate girl of flirting?"

"...y-yes."

"that's so mean."

"i'm serious!"

"you're adorable when you're serious~"

his eye twitched.

somewhere nearby...

garp watched while eating rice crackers.

"he's losin'."

bogard nodded once.

"he is."

koby inhaled slowly.

"...enough."

you raised an eyebrow.

"i'm arresting you."

you smiled.

"come and get me~"

you darted away.

"w-wait!"

he chased after her through headquarters.

marines scattered out of the way.

"captain koby!"

"she went left!"

"no, right!"

"she's on the roof?!"

"how did she even get up there?!"

you laugh the entire time.

every time koby got close enough to grab your wrist, you'd slip away at the last second.

"you're too slow~" you teased.

"hold still!"

"make me."

"that's literally what i'm trying to do!"

after nearly ten minutes of chasing...

you suddenly stopped.

koby nearly crashed into you.

"h-ha..."

he panted heavily.

"...got you."

his fingers finally wrapped gently around your wrist.

victory.

he smiled triumphantly.

"you can't escape this time."

you looked at your joined hands before looking back at him.

"...really?"

"really."

"you promise?"

"...yes."

"you won't let go?"

"...no."

your smile softened.

"...okay."

you stepped closer.

koby blinked.

"...?"

"..."

"...?"

before his brain could process what was happening...

you rose onto your toes.

*chu!*

a tiny peck landed against his warm cheek.

"...thanks for catching me~"

...

steam practically rose from koby's head.

his eyes became little circles.

his grip immediately loosened.

and you slipped free with practiced ease.

"see you later, captain!"

you waved cheerfully before sprinting away.

"w-w-wait!!"

he reached after you uselessly.

"you... y-you... y-you kissed..."

his sentence never finished.

*BONK!*

garp's fist landed squarely on top of his head.

"OW!!"

"told ya not to fall for it."

"i-i didn't!"

"you let go."

"...she kissed my cheek."

garp snorted.

"yep."

"..."

"that's rough, kid."

bogard adjusted his hat.

"...you smiled."

koby's eyes widened.

"...i— w-what?"

"you smiled."

his face somehow became even redder.

meanwhile, from the sunny's deck...

you leaned against the railing, watching him frantically cover his face with both hands.

you laughed so hard you nearly doubled over.

"he's so cute!!!"

luffy looked up from his plate of meat.

"who?"

"my favorite marine."

"oh."

he took another bite.

"he blushes a lot."

"that's exactly why."

"10.000 and I'll throw in one of these charms for the beautiful lady", he holds up one of the little trinkets that lie scattered across the table.

you scoff. "so because i'm pretty, you think i'm stupid?"

the man rolls his eyes the moment he realizes that his scamming tactics aren't going to work on you.

"fine", he drops his greasy salesman act and slumps back in his chair. "5.000."

you narrow your eyes at him.

"i'll take it for three."

"four", he tries.

"three."

the man glares at you, but nevertheless takes your money and fishes out a bag for you.

the sun feels hot on your skin as you navigate your way through the bustling market. it's always busier in the summer, especially in the early afternoon, and you're slowly beginning to regret your decision of going grocery shopping early today.

already exhausted, you decide to take a small break, leaning your back against a tree and finding comfort in the shadow of the leaves above your head. light falls through in tiny spots that dance on the grass by your feet. summer seems to get hotter every year in this place.

slowly, you let your eyes drift across the town square. you know this place well, every nook, every corner engraved in your mind. you know the ways of the entire island, the way the wind blows, the way the people and crowds move, the way the weather changes and the way the rain tastes.

it's hard to be surprised in a place you've been calling home for so long now, which is why you notice instantly when something feels out of place. like the tall figure hiding in the shadows of one of the buildings framing the marketplace.

you do a double take.

it's not exactly unfamiliar. but it doesn't belong here. it doesn't fit in.

your heart jumps when you recognize the slightly hunched posture and the long dark coat flowing down the silhouette.

law.

he appears to notice that you've spotted him, his eyes already carefully trained on you.

he lingers for another moment. there's too much distance between you to actually tell, but you think you notice a smug smirk playing at his lips.

then he dips his head and disappears into the shadow of a small alley. luckily, you already know where he's headed.

you waste no time in picking your bags back up and hurrying off after him, the items still left on your grocery list long forgotten as you make your way home.

law is back. finally.

how much time has it been? two months? maybe three?

when you unlock the door to your small house at the town's border he's is nowhere to be seen yet, but you can still barely contain your excitement.

god, how you've missed him.

you put down your bags and head to the kitchen to put away the food you bought, when suddenly his voice rings through your hallway, and you stop in your tracks.

"that vendor is going to cry himself to sleep tonight."

you whirl around.

law is leaning against the wall in your hallway, legs long, arms crossed and face blank.

he hasn't changed one bit since you last saw him.

his hair looks disheveled, he's not wearing his hat. he usually takes it off to be less recognizable, not wanting to raise any suspicions about his more or less frequent visits to your island. his beard is trimmed a little shorter, his jaw looks sharper - has he been eating? his eyes still hold the exact same expression you've grown to know so well.

a smile makes it's way onto your lips. "law."

his mouth quirks up the tiniest bit in response. his voice is low when he speaks.

"hi."

there's a sudden pull, a tug at your heart, like the universe is trying to balance out the distance between you at once. you can't restrain yourself any longer and surge forward, launching yourself into his arms. he catches you easily as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"miss me?", he smirks.

"only a little", you mumble against his lips.

the kiss you share is deep and filled with longing. your groceries stand forgotten on the floor next to you when you finally pull away.

"how long are you staying?", you ask a little out of breath.

there's a glint in his eyes, a tiny hint of regret when he responds.

"not long."

law lets your slide out of his arms and lowers you back to the floor. you press yourself against his chest and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

it's funny how a person who is always gone can smell more like home than the house you sleep in every night. you let yourself be enveloped in his scent and take a deep breath.

"either way, i'm happy to see you."

you know that law visits as much as he can. you know what his life is, know what his days look like, you would never hold it against him that he isn't around much. after all, you knew exactly who he was when you fell for him.

law rests his head on top of yours and burries his face in your hair. it bothers him too, to have to leave you behind. you can see it in his eyes every single time. but you know that your safety is more important to him than the pain of your frequent goodbyes. and for that you're eternally grateful.

"i'm happy to see you, too", he mumbles into your hair.

you can't help the chuckle that escapes your mouth, even as your heart flutters at the softness that lies within his words. it's rare for law to say things like this so openly and you would never miss a chance to tease him for it.

"wow", you grin and look up at him, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. "when did you become such a softie?"

law rolls his eyes, but you don't miss the smirk he bites back when he playfully pushes you aside.

he plays along with your comment. "a lot can happen in two months."

you cross your arms in front of your chest.

"oh yeah?", you grin. "what else changed then?"

law's eyes lock with yours as he takes a step forward, crowding you against the wall in your narrow hallway.

one hand lies firmly on your hip, the other one is placed against the wall next to your head when he smirks down at you.

"i could show you."

you exhale.

"please do."

august (law)

law can hear movement coming from inside the house when he leans against the frame of your front door and he nods to himself. you're home.

he would never admit it out loud but he likes to plan the way he's going to surprise you each time he visits well ahead of time. the look on your face, the spark in your eyes and that smile, the way he can feel your happiness take over the second you spot him are all things law thinks about a lot. it's a moment he looks forward to the entire time that he's away at sea.

his crew like to joke about the gone look on his face when he's daydreaming about his 'secret girlfriend' again. idiots. they're not even supposed to know about you, but apparently law isn't as low-key as he thinks when he goes off to see you.

he knocks.

almost immediately his heartbeat picks up in anticipation and law internally curses at his body. this thing between you two has been going on for long enough, he should be able to handle it without breaking out in a nervous sweat.

but then there's footsteps and then the door swings open and then there's you, and law forgets how to breathe.

you look up at him with big eyes and the next thing he knows is you in his arms, and your face pressed into his neck, and he holds you like he never wants to let you go again. and he realizes that he really doesn't.

"law", you exclaim happily and he feels that warm feeling wash over him, that feeling that only your presence can give him. even just hearing you say his name like this is heaven. law could listen to you say his name all day long.

he lets you out of his embrace just to pull you right back into a kiss.

oh, how he has missed this.

he kisses you for a short while until eventually law forces himself to pull away in order to hand you the gift he's still holding in his hand.

"you brought me flowers", you smile and take the bouquet from him.

law watches you close your eyes to smell them and takes a mental screenshot of your face. if he was an artist he would try drawing you, so that he could look at the soft expression adorning your features every single day. add that to the list of things he would never say out loud.

"thank you", you say softly.

law's heart melts. he clears his throat to cover it up.

"they don't die", he casually mentions.

you glance up at him. "what do you mean?"

"they're special", law explains, as you take a step back to finally let him inside. "they're from an island with a very unique vegetation. the local plants have cellular matter that decomposes so slowly that they outlive regular plants by centuries, even when you cut them."

he pulls the door shut behind him. "so they won't wilt."

you shake your head in disbelief, a stunned smile forming on your lips.

"so you're telling me that all this time you've never gotten me flowers because you didn't want them to be gone too soon?"

your question hits law square in the chest. he should've known that you'd see right through him.

it's true. law figured that a gift that doesn't last is useless from someone who isn't around to give you a new one once it's gone.

he tries to play it off and simply shrugs.

"aww", you coo. "law, you wanted them to last so i don't forget about you."

law gives you a look and you laugh.

"thank you", you then say earnestly. "seriously, these are beautiful."

not as beautiful as you, law thinks.

november (you)

you wake up in the late morning. sunlight spills through the curtains and into the room. you watch it throw shadows over law's sleeping form.

slowly, you let your eyes wander from his face, down his neck, over his naked torso, tracing the swirls of black ink engraved into his skin forever.

he has his left arm thrown over your waist, his legs tangled with yours. soft breaths leave his slightly opened mouth. his dark hair is a terrible mess. it suits him.

law came back two nights ago and you've been enjoying every single second of his company. life feels brighter with him there. once he's gone it always leaves you feeling like something's missing. it's not just the lack of his presence. it's as if your soul is incomplete when he's not there. it's as if he takes a part of you to sea with him.

you raise your fingers up to his face, carefully pushing back a piece of hair that has fallen into his eyes. you could watch law sleep forever. he looks so peaceful like this, so soft.

in moments like this you wonder what it must be like to only know him out there in the real world. to only ever see the surgeon of death and not this side of him, never this side. the man lying in bed next to you isn't the surgeon of death. he's simply a man.

"it's rude to stare", law mumbles into his pillow.

you breathe out a small laugh.

"so what?"

law cracks an eye open. a lazy smile hangs on his lips when he looks at you. then he pulls you closer until you're flush against his chest.

"so, i want an apology", he jokes quietly, voice still rough from sleep.

you giggle. "how about a kiss?"

law mocks a contemplating hum.

"i was thinking more like a written statement."

"okay", you shrug. "will you let me get up then?"

you feel his arms tighten around you.

"what?", he almost sounds offended. "no! why?"

"well, how else would i prepare you a written apology?"

law sighs in defeat. "i guess a verbal one will do as well."

you look up at him.

"i deeply apologize for any disturbance i may have caused you during your well-earned beauty sleep."

law snorts.

"will you forgive me?", you ask theatrically.

he looks at you carefully and raises an eyebrow.

in a fracture of a second you're being flipped onto your back with law hovering over you, his face suddenly very close to yours.

"i might", he whispers.

in a dramatic gesture, you hold a hand over your heart and fake a sniffle.

"i'll do anything for your forgiveness."

law smirks when he leans in.

"oh, will you?", he mumbles as his lips meet yours.

you sigh into the kiss, running your hands up the smooth skin on his back and tangling your fingers in his hair.

law angles his face to deepen the kiss, slowly sliding a down to your waist and under them hem of your shirt.

you pull him into you by the back of his neck, tugging slightly at his hair and he lets a low groan slip into your mouth, that makes your entire body tingle.

his lips leave yours and he kisses a trail along your jaw and down your neck. he drags his teeth over his favourite spot there, the one he knows will make you squirm and your fingers tighten around his hair as a quiet moan escapes you.

with a satisfied smirk, law's lips find yours again. he slides your shirt up further and tugs, urging you to lean up and take it off. you comply, only breaking the kiss to pull the shirt over your head. he takes it off your hands and carelessly throws it behind himself, before pushing you back down on the bed.

instead of leaning in, he hovers over you for a moment, looking at you with this soft look in his eyes you so rarely get to see.

you stare up at him and drink in the sight of late morning law. his dishevelled bed-head, the everpresent circles under his warm toned eyes, the golden earrings and the uneven breaths.

god, he's beautiful.

you let yourself drown in the moment, drown in law's eyes and his love, as he leans back down to kiss you again and again and again.

april (law)

law watches as you let yourself fall back into the fluffy grass, lifting your gaze up to the blue sky. spring came early this year on your island. it's already warm outside with the sun casting a warm glow over your skin.

there's a soft thump when he goes to lie down next to you.

"we leave in an hour."

he feels you tenderly interlock your fingers with his. a moment passes before you respond.

"i'll miss you."

law turns is head to the side and finds you already looking at him. you're beautiful in the sunlight. it brings out your eyes. he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"me too", he admits.

his heart flutters at the small smile you fail to hide at his confession, and he lets himself sink deeper into the grass, treasuring the memory of your face in this delicate moment.

you shuffle closer to him and he lets go of your hand to hold out his arm, so that you can lean your head on his shoulder. your hand finds his chest und you start drawing lazy circles onto his torso. law suppresses a content hum at the feeling.

carefully, he runs a hand through your hair and places a ghost of a kiss on the top of your head. he almost can't help it when the words slip out of his mouth.

"you know i love you, right?"

the circles on his chest stop and you shift even closer.

"yes", you confirm in a fragile whisper. "i love you too."

and so the two of you lie in the grass as law simply holds you, knowing that he'll have to let go again way too soon.

it's never enough. not a single day passes where law doesn't miss you. no matter the amount of chaos that constantly happens around him, no matter who he's fighting. he could be standing in the middle of a war and you would still be on his mind.

and law thinks to himself how cruel it is, to find love like this only to have to leave it behind. to have to keep you behind closed doors, to always keep his distance to ensure your safety. and he silently makes a promise to himself, that one day, after everything is over, he'll take you with him and you'll never have to be apart again.

"what?" your eyebrows furrowed together, a hand moving towards his open palms on the table. your other arm is still pulling your jacket together.

you follow his gaze back down to your chest before the realisation hits you— the idiot was whimpering because he couldn’t get a good look at your boobs of all things. you kick him under the table, aggrieved. "there's some guy behind you that i think has been having a staring contest with my tits."

"who the hell—?" ace's eyebrows creaks, his smile twitching as his hands turned down on the table; he straightened up, slowly turning himself around. he has half the mind not to go over there and fuck up this random guy for commiting two grevious crimes against him. count one, staring at tits that should be for his eyes only; count two, forcing you to hide said beautiful chest from his view?

actually. "i'm going over there."

"ace—"

"i'm not living in a world where you have to cover up your beautiful rack 'cause of some fucking creep." he straightens up, you pull on his arm; ace looked down at you, annoyed, and then he turned to look at the guy who'd taken to looking at ace now because of his movement. "fuck you think you lookin' at? get your own fuckin' girl."

"dressed like that, she's our girl."

you let go of ace's arm, raising your hands in surrender. "have fun."

ace grinned, stepping out over the bench. "knew you'd come 'round." he leaned down to press a kiss against your cheek and his hand sneaks a squeeze of your boob, "for good luck." he claimed— then he's running off to 'protect your honor' or maybe stake his claim on your boobs.

"wear whatever you want, babe." ace tells you sometime later, after you both make a quick exit from the scene of the crime. his arm slung over your shoulder, obviously taking advantage of his height to get a bird's eye view of your 'beautiful rack', "ohhhh, that mesh lace shirt that you wear over nothing but your bra is fuckin' gorgeous." he remembered.

"...her anatomy is remarkable."

the heart pirates exchanged confused glances.

law continued as if discussing the weather.

"minimal scar tissue despite the injuries they survived. her liver regenerated cleanly. the blood vessels are intact where they should be, and her lungs are... surprisingly healthy."

he adjusted a clamp with surgical precision.

"i've operated on countless people. pirates, marines, civilians." his golden eyes briefly flickered toward [redacted]'s unconscious face. "very few have organs this resilient."

bepo blinked. "captain... are... are you complimenting her organs?"

"they deserve it."

the room fell silent.

law continued stitching.

"her heart rhythm is stable even under severe blood loss. efficient. strong." a faint pause. "it's a good heart."

shachi snorted. "captain, you make that sound romantic."

law ignored them completely.

"her kidneys show no long-term damage despite chronic dehydration." he examined another monitor. "healthy pancreas. excellent spleen. her body recovered from malnutrition far better than expected."

he nodded to himself in quiet approval.

"i'd give her organs a perfect score."

"CAPTAIN," bepo whispered, horrified. "normal people compliment someone's eyes..."

law didn't even glance up.

"i notice organs first."

law sat in his usual spot, arms crossed as he watched the room slowly become covered in small signs of his crewmate's presence. a book left open on the table. a cup of tea placed beside his medical notes. a few tiny seashells arranged neatly near the window.

and, currently, eight octopus tentacles were reaching around the room, doing several tasks at once.

"y/n-ya."

the woman froze mid-motion, one tentacle holding a stack of papers while another carefully adjusted the blanket on the couch.

"yes, captain?"

law stared.

"you're using your devil fruit to organize my workspace."

she looked away. "maybe."

"you realize you're making it harder for me to complain about the mess."

a small smile tugged at her lips. "that sounds like a personal problem."

law sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

ever since y/n had eaten the octopus-octopus fruit, he had gotten used to seeing her abilities everywhere. tentacles grabbing supplies from high shelves, fixing broken equipment, helping in the kitchen, or wrapping around him whenever she fell asleep during long nights aboard the submarine.

he would never admit it, but he found it oddly comforting.

especially the way she always tried to help without being asked.

one of her tentacles gently placed a warm cup of coffee beside him.

law looked down at it.

"you made this?"

"no," she said proudly. "my tentacle did!"

he raised an eyebrow.

"that doesn't count."

"it absolutely counts."

a quiet laugh escaped him before he could stop it.

y/n blinked.

law immediately looked away. "don't make a big deal out of it."

"i didn't say anything."

"you were about to."

"i was."

"exactly."

she sat beside him, her tentacles curling comfortably around the chair and floor. one slowly wrapped around his arm, careful not to disturb his work.

law glanced at it.

"you know most people would find this strange."

y/n tilted her head. "most people don't have an octopus devil fruit user on their crew."

"that's not what i meant."

the room became quiet for a moment.

law looked at her, his expression softer than usual.

"i mean... most people wouldn't understand you."

y/n smiled faintly. "but you do?"

he looked back at his papers.

"i'm a doctor. understanding unusual things is my job."

she laughed. "that's the worst compliment i've ever received."

"it's not a compliment."

"sure, trafalgar."

a few seconds passed.

then one of her smaller tentacles gently poked his cheek.

law stared at it.

"did you just poke me..?"

"it did that on its own."

"your devil fruit has a personality now?"

"maybe it likes you!"

"that's unfortunate."

but he didn't move away.

instead, he reached over and lightly tapped the tentacle with one finger.

"tell your devil fruit to stop distracting me."

y/n grinned. "it says no."

law sighed.

yet he stayed right there, surrounded by paperwork, coffee, and eight very affectionate tentacles.

for someone who claimed he hated distractions, he never seemed to mind when the distraction was her.

Somewhere into the night, Law has learnt his lesson and stops talking about Luffy altogether and you are relieved of the burden of defending his honour. Not of sound mind, Eustass forgets that the Strawhats' job is not only defending their buttfuck captain, but to annoy everyone else into submissively handing over the Pirate King title to Luffy. After terrorising Law enough, you spin your way around everyone and end the night by his side, dropping down on him unceremoniously— half-drunk, everything about you is looser, your chest against his back, hunched over his sitting form.

He’s halfway through his last drink when he turns over to you. Something breaks. It falls loose, something in him, he loses his purchase of an unknown thing under his ribs, the gears catches on the wrong shift and he hears this loud haltering creak in his ears, it rings and it calls. His skin itches horribly under all the metal that makes up his arm; it suddenly all feels too heavy. Your head is tilted in question, eyes bizarre in their clarity— had you not been drinking?— and it's a challenge, Eustass knows it is because all you Strawhats are only good for stirring up trouble and you're goading him into talking shit so you can beat him up too.

Suddenly, he remembers Wire calling you attractive. You straighten up a bit, chin pulled in towards your neck and your eyes look up at him through your lashes, lips curled up. Suddenly, he remembers agreeing with Heat. Suddenly, he jerks and his drink spills all over an unsuspecting Law passing by.

It takes a second, but you realise that Eustass has been exceptionally angry at everyone the morning after the party. He stalks around, stomping with the weight of Zeus' anger, purposefully barging into pirates suffering from hangovers, and just about winning every other verbal fight he gets into. Obviously, his streak comes to an end because the Strawhats are still loitering.

You don't have the decency to even act like you have a hangover when he passes you. You are skipping, you have that audacity, circling around poor souls with an exuberant Luffy, who doesn't drink, and Franky, who exclusively waters down his alcohol with cola. You are annoying everyone around you and Eustass can't help but follow the trail of misery you leave behind you. You find an offensive amount of joy in dancing around those suffering with headaches and joint pain, Eustass thinks— no, he's not going to entertain that thought. He's just going to watch you. He'll blame the tense feeling in his stomach on anger, he'll watch the smile widen on your face, the curl of your eyes squinting out the sun, shadows elongated over delicate features, the wind picking up through strands of your hair like it can't wait to touch you. Eustass will watch the world bend around you and think, in anger, of how irritating you are.

What if it were just an irrational amount of hatred he has for the Strawhats that make Eustass churn violently whenever you pass? He reckons, accepting a bowl of whatever the fuck Sanji and some other cooks had whipped up, that it's one of those feelings that is so overwhelming that it bleeds into a hundred and two other emotions when you feel it first. He doesn't want to dwell on it but it fits itself snuggly into his mind, between two points of a headache in his brain; he loses his bearings, trying to figure out if it is the ache or the feeling that is stronger.

His reflection flickers in the congee, smoke blurring the horizon as it strings itself into the sky. He looks up and sees you holding your own bowl, a spoon into your mouth when Luffy bumps into you and the congee spills down your chin with a cough. You lock eyes after you turn around to wack Luffy, wiping your chin. Eustass' head fucking kills.

Eustass has loved before. When he was young and love was just an innocent feeling, when it wasn’t this awful, grotesque active emotion. Eustass Kidd remembers love being passive, he was just an object in the equation, who allowed the feeling to be; it was allowed to just be when he was a child, he lived around it and stepped to the side when he felt its presence— the girl he loved was a spitfire, like you his mind supplies all so helpfully. He wouldn’t have called it love if he didn’t lose her, he reckons. He has a memory of it being quiet, the sudden awareness of himself when she was around, he doesn’t think she’d find much joy in the man he has become. Maybe that’s why you’re bothering him. You must be the punishment. Victoria has never been shy about hurting him anyways.

“You’re bringing down the mood,” you make the time to point out, as you walk past him with plates stacked up the entire length of your arm. Eustass snarls. And you’ve never been one to not look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead of going on about your merry way, you stop in front of him. Eustass sees Luffy’s arms stretch out over a crowd of people, swiping all the plates off your arm and bringing it over to his fat ass.  “What’s up with’cha?” You sound as though you’re making pleasant conversation, trying to be friendly as you make yourself comfortable next to him.

Unfortunately, you are a Strawhat so all Eustass feels is the all consuming urge to start a fight. “Has your captain relieved you of the burden of waiting on him?” He snarks. Another one of your crew would be easily riled up by that, then Eustass would be gratified when he inevitably got into a fistfight. All he gets is a slow blossoming of amusement over your face, like you know what is troubling him. You have fight in your eyes, that’s what you stopped here for: a fight. That, Eustass can commend, he’s always been the one to like looking danger in the face, to see the shifting clouds in its eyes and want to drown in it, to be close enough to violence that he can smell last night’s alcohol on its tongue, feel its heavy heat, hear its rattling heartbeat, have enough sense to feel the phantom pain of a punch before a fist is even pulled back.

Bartolomeo practically ascends to another plane of existence.

One by one, he fawns over each of your crewmates “Zoro-senpai! Your badassery knows no bounds!!” “Nami-senpai! A goddess of the sea itself!!” “Usopp-senpai, your legendary tales are the stuff of history!!” Even Brook gets a full five-minute monologue about his status as a rock star and a living legend.

And then he gets to you.

Or rather... he doesn’t.

Bartolomeo barely spares you a glance. No tears, no fangirling, not even a comment. Just a stiff nod before turning back to Franky and screaming about how “SUPER” he is.

At first, you think nothing of it. Maybe he doesn’t know as much about you. Not everyone gets the spotlight in every newspaper. But as time passes and Bartolomeo keeps ignoring you, doubt creeps in.

You watch how he interacts with the others, clinging to Luffy like he’s the second coming of the Pirate King (which, fair okay), showering Sanji in praise for his “divine cooking”, even giving Chopper one of those ridiculous “senpai” speeches. But when it comes to you? It’s like you barely exist.

“Hey, Barto” you try to start a conversation one evening. He flinches like you just threw a punch “How long have you had your Devil Fruit?”

“Huh?” He blinks at you, then shrugs, suddenly aloof “Dunno. Long time.”

“…Right.” You shift awkwardly “I ate mine when I was a kid. The—”

“Ah, crap, gotta go! Luffy-senpai might need a drink!” and he bolts before you can say another word.

Your Devil Fruit ability, one that allows you to manipulate gravity in a small radius, suddenly feels useless. Not cool enough. Not impressive enough. You’re not impressive enough.

Days pass, and it only gets worse. Bartolomeo is the loudest person on the ship, yet somehow, he speaks the least around you. He acts like you’re just… there. The way he hypes up the others makes it glaringly obvious that he doesn’t think you’re at their level. Maybe he doesn’t even think you deserve to be a Strawhat.

“Yo” Zoro drops next to you while you sit at the edge of the Sunny, staring at the ocean “You’re sulking.”

You snort “I don’t sulk.”

He gives you a look.

You sigh “It’s Bartolomeo. He never talks to me. Barely looks at me. It’s like I don’t measure up to the rest of you.”

Zoro raises a brow “You actually care what that guy thinks?”

“No!” You pause “…Maybe. It’s just weird. Like, I know I’m not as legendary as you guys, but I thought I at least mattered, just a little bit. Now I’m not so sure...”

“Tch.” Zoro leans back, arms crossed “You’re an idiot.”

“Wow, thanks.”

He jerks his chin toward the other side of the ship. You follow his gaze and freeze.

Bartolomeo is watching you.

Not just watching.... he's actually staring. Jaw clenched, fingers digging into his arms, looking like he’s barely holding himself together. The second your eyes meet, he panics and whirls away, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes below deck.

Zoro smirks “Idiot.”

Realization crashes over you.

Bartolomeo doesn’t ignore you because he thinks you’re uncool.

He ignores you because he thinks you’re too cool. And now, you have a plan.

The next morning, you corner Bartolomeo before he can escape “Oi” you step into his path, crossing your arms “Are you avoiding me?”

“N-no! What? Pfft, no way!” His voice jumps an octave, and he won’t meet your gaze.

You smirk “Really? ‘Cause it kinda seems like you are.”

“I... I just...” He grits his teeth, then groans, dragging his hands through his hair “Ugh! Fine! I am avoiding you!”

You tilt your head “Why?”

Bartolomeo groans again, this time slumping dramatically against the mast like you’re physically torturing him “Because you’re—so—damn—cool!!” He throws his hands in the air “Like, I saw you in the papers and thought, ‘Damn, this one’s gonna be strong.’ But then I met you and you’re not just strong, you’re awesome! The way you fight, the way you talk, your Devil Fruit—it’s all so—gah!!” He grips his head “And I... I get nervous! I don’t get nervous! But around you, I feel like a dumbass, and I don’t wanna say something stupid and make you think I’m lame!”

Silence.

Then you laugh.

Bartolomeo’s face turns bright red “Oi! What’s so funny?!”

“You! You’ve been acting like I’m nothing special this whole time because you’re nervous?” You grin “Dude, I thought you hated me.”

His eyes go wide “What?! NO! Never!! You’re...” He grabs your shoulders, shaking you slightly “You’re amazing! I could never hate you! I’m just a dumbass who doesn’t know how to act around someone that cool!!”

You blink “Wow. That’s… actually really sweet.”

Bartolomeo freezes, realization hitting him like a truck. He just admitted all of that out loud. To you.

He promptly screams, lets go of you, and sprints away at full speed.

You watch him go, shaking your head “Idiot.”

But this time, you’re smiling.

Bartolomeo avoids you even harder after his accidental confession, but this time, it’s not because he doesn’t know how to act, instead it’s because he’s utterly convinced there’s no way you could ever return his feelings. To him, you’re like an untouchable star, way out of his league. Just being near you makes his heart feel like it’s about to explode.

And you? You’re getting really tired of this his nonsense.

The entire crew notices. Luffy, as oblivious as ever, just assumes Bartolomeo is naturally weird. Sanji is too busy trying to flirt with Nami and Robin to care. But Zoro? Zoro is actively annoyed.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles one night, sitting next to you while Bartolomeo pretends to be fascinated by a wall on the other side of the ship “Are you seriously just gonna let him keep running?”

You scowl “Of course not.”

“Good. Because it's annoying to watch.”

It takes another day before you get him alone. You corner him in the storage room, blocking the only exit with a casual lean against the doorframe “Alright, enough of this.”

Bartolomeo stiffens like he’s been caught committing a crime “E-enough of what? Haha! I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“You’re avoiding me again.”

“I’m n-not—”

You step closer. He steps back. His face is redder than ever “Barto.”

His breath hitches “Y-yeah?”

You smirk “For someone who thinks I’m so cool, you sure keep running away from me.”

His brain short-circuits “I—uh—I—”

“Why?”

He looks away, gripping his jacket like it’s the only thing keeping him standing “Because someone like you… you could never…” he swallows hard “You deserve someone better.”

Your expression softens “That’s what you think?”

He nods “Yeah. Like Zoro-senpai... he—he takes good care of you.”

You sigh, then grab his hand. He jolts like you just shocked him with a lightning bolt.

“Barto, you dumbass,” you say fondly “If I didn’t like you back, I wouldn’t even be standing here.”

His jaw drops. He blinks once. Twice.

Then... “EH?!?!”

You grin “Took you long enough.”

Bartolomeo malfunctions entirely. His knees wobble, his face somehow gets redder, and he looks two seconds away from passing out “B-but—but I—I—”

You roll your eyes before pulling him down by the collar and pressing a kiss to his lips.

For one terrifying second, you think he actually did pass out. But then his hands snap up, gripping your waist like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. The kiss is messy, desperate, and so incredibly Bartolomeo that you can’t help but smile against his lips.

When you finally pull back, his eyes are wide with disbelief “Holy shit.”

You chuckle “Well, yeah.”

Then he promptly screams, lifting you into the air and spinning you around in sheer joy “I’M THE LUCKIEST MAN ALIVE!!!”

Somewhere outside, you hear Zoro groan, “Finally.”

christ. you swear the warmth of his hands have penetrated your skull already, even as they hover almost four inches from your head. he’s hardly close enough to give you something to revel in— though, maybe if the hair of your scalp raised as the ones of your neck, they'd have a chance at touching him. you'd beg for anything at this point. “mm. yeah, ‘t hurts.” you release the (now probably mutilated) skin of your lower lip from between your teeth as you mumble to him. “always had that sort of thing, but more so recently. ‘dunno why.” you think the ghost of his hands have grown closer to you from behind.

law hums in acknowledgment, voice closer than you had presumed. his hands, pleasantly deft from surgeons practice, card through your hair, tucking it from your face. he’s taking his time. you feel a stroke of breath against your now exposed shoulder. “any head trauma?” he presumes, this stroke of his hands concluding with two thumbs pressing to the base of your skull at the back of your neck, shifting left and right every few seconds to feel around. a shiver crawls over the skin of your jaw.

“concussions?”

he tilts his head to watch as the rest of his tattooed fingers begin to feel above and behind your ears on each side of your skull. he thinks your hair smells nice. your teeth grind slightly, tensing your jaw. he feels it, yet refraining from commenting on both observations. “no,” you pause, attempting to ignore the coolness of his hands. “ran into a brick wall head-first as a kid, though.” you huff a light laugh, earning a furrow of his brows. his hands are stagnant for a moment, tangled lightly in your hair, “that should explain it, then.” he hums, seemingly done with his examination. in the midst of your naivete, you respond with a quick, “really?” 

promptly, “no.”

a frown curls the ends of your lips, retortive curses bubbling up your throat and tickling the back of your tongue. however, before you can open your mouth, his hands resume their motions— yet gathering your loose hair up into his palms and between his fingers, holding it up from your neck rather than merely combing. a makeshift bun, you feel him form. 

he also rounds the exam table to stand in front of you, borderline between your knees. you straighten on reflex from the sudden presence, but not a bit of him cares because he’s feeling at your temples now, thumbs smoothing to your cheekbones. 

he sighs. “recently. any cranial trauma recently?”

stupid and flustered beyond a point of admission, you hum, “tellin’ you my life’s story and you’re asking for yesterday?”

he glares, unimpressed.

your throat works, fumbling to correct yourself with a long sigh. “no…” it’s indignant and begs a laugh from him. 

“hm,” he hums thoughtfully, fingers trailing back behind your ears as his forearms practically cup your face. it feels as if he truly couldn’t get any closer to you, but his knee shoves yours apart— so close now that his thigh nudges against the cool metal of the table beneath you. he’s playing you. the thought dances around in your head the nearer he is but it’s become too distracting for you to object, the brush of your thigh to his hip all but electrifying.

and the bastard laughs. a sarcastic vibrato within his throat punctuated by a shake of shoulders. you find yourself thinking of how pleasant it sounds, but you’re reminded that bliss is painfully momentary as soon as his touch desists from your skin. 

his hands plant onto the table by your hips instead. it effectively stills you a little quicker than you’d like to admit.

his eyes meet yours, unimpressed. 

“you know what i think?” he sounds so, so amused. you’re silent, too dumbstruck to answer. 

he tries again: “no?” 

and god, he’s cocky.

law lifts a hand once more to the back of your head, fingers brushing slow along your scalp until he’s tapping gently at a suspiciously rounded knot just behind your right ear. you wince, and it tells him all he needs to know.

“i think you’re bullshitting me,” he finalizes, a grin curving his mouth. 

a groan forces from your lips— long, drawn out, and annoyed. your head falls to the curve of his shoulder, apologizing gruffly into his shirt. “jus’ missed you, wanted to get you away from work,” you mumble your excuse with little nettled pokes to his chest.

“kind of you,” he remarks, shaking his head.

he hoists you closer to nose into your hair while he rubs soothingly at your little bump, a whispered shambles inviting the appropriate container of pain medication into his waiting hand from his faraway desk. and because he can’t help it, he begins to ask, “how did you even—”

“—don’t,” you interrupt, shoving him playfully. “don’t ask.” 

zoro would be even worse if you were friends before his feelings fully formed. you would be left clueless as to why suddenly his answers to you have changed into short, clipped responses that come out strained with zero eye contact.

a rotation of muttered, “uh huh. yeah. sure. mmhm. right.” any sarcasm he uses with the rest of the crew completely dissolves the moment you’re in the picture. if he does gain the ability to bring some of his natural life back into the conversation, it comes out with a grin too wide and a laugh too forced after saying something he’s later going to overthink instead of napping that afternoon.

he would become disgustingly nonchalant. at least he would try to be. it comes off as less unbothered cool guy, and more seasick on the verge of passing out guy. once he finds out by an off handed comment by luffy that you hate wannabe nonchalant guys, he immediately panics to find out a new strategy (he shouldn’t have anything to worry about though; he’s terrible at the nonchalant act).

soon after dumping the nonchalant idea for good, trying to look extra cool in front of you is something his body automatically does. he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it at first. jumping in front of you when there’s even a hint of the enemy around just becomes second nature to him.

the rest of the crew figures it out before you do. zoro is terrible at being subtle after all. he can no longer insult sanji for gawking at women because he’ll be met with a smug, angry retort along the lines of ‘as if you don’t do the same to y/n!’ zoro will just sputter a half-assed response in attempt of an insult back, ( as well an attempt to save his pride ) but come up with nothing to defend himself. he knows it’s true. and yet he’s still not all the way there to accepting his feelings as love.

© bananafrosting