World of Thoughts, Dreams and Fantasies ❤

NINGGUANG — " everything reminds me of her "

You slammed your glass on the counter, for dramatic effect, although the only thing that got you was a couple stares from the people seated near you, an annoyed side glance from the bartender, serving drinks across from you, and a mess you'd have to clean up later, as your drink splattered across the granite countertop, leaving droplets of cheap beer in it's wake.

"I hope you know, your paying for the glass if it breaks", Diluc says in response to your mini outbursts, and you groaned in response to his amusement, "everything reminds me of her", you sounded almost pained—almost.

The breakup was mutual for the most part, Ningguang and you have chosen to remain as friends, although that's clearly not working in your favor, here.

Being friends with your ex is . . weird; to say the least . . It's not exactly a friendship is it? you both don't exactly do things friends would do, but you're not exactly a couple either, I mean it wasn't just friendly when she called you a couple nights ago, at 3am, after a particularly bad shift, just to vent about work and ask about your day, and maybe it was in your best interest, for you to not pickup that call, but of course you did, because you'd rather die before you set up healthy boundaries for yourself.

And not to mention the day you tried to 'man-up' and draw a wedge by returning her things, and the things she gave you, because yea doing lunch dates with your ex was not very normal, very single, very independent of you. You came to the very not-so shocking realization, that around half of your shift was bought on Ningguang's paycheck, which honestly meant stupid shit like going through your closet and finding shit that she gave you, because oh it fit your style, and she just happened to think of you, which is so cute, so writing a love letter and mailing it out via a pigeon carrier of her.

It gets worse when you go through your room after having returned her things, and find something else that belonged to her, and now you suddenly have a new reason to meet up with her again, and your meetups never seem to get cut short, because all of a sudden she has all the time in the world now that your broken up but when you guys were together she was busy with work?

It got particularly bad when you woke up, already on the wrong side of the bed this morning and realized the face wash you were using, mid using it was one she recommended to you, stupid shit right? Well this has been happening since the breakup, stupid nonsensical things that are now permanently tied to her in your brain. Like the other day, "sharpies . . she liked sharpies", yeah no shit sherlock, everyone uses sharpies. You had to switch to the off-brand version of your pens because of her.

"everything", you repeat your words to further stress the intensity of your pain, "maybe you just need to close your eyes", Diluc responded without blinking an eye, setting the cleaned class aside, it was early in the afternoon, three hours before happy hour, so there was barely anyone in Angel's Share right now, except a few regulars who come early and leave early, your just the loud as fuck oddball right now commanding way too much attention right now.

Just then your phone rings, which perfect timing to knock you out of your little self-pity fest, "shit I'm late", you mumble, sitting up and packing your bag in lighting speed, "how much do I owe?", you ask Diluc, reaching in your bag for you wallet—the bag Ningguang gave you—the bag that was currently a mess.

"It's fine, it's on the house, consider this as . . consolation, for whatever your going through right now", he said, sarcastically, before taking your glass from in front of you, probably to clean or whatever, you didn't have time though, to hold his tone over his head, "where are you going anyway, in such a hurry?"

You pause for a moment, before replying, "Lunch date, with Ningguang", you swear you heard him sigh before you ran out that door.

NEUVILLETTE — " nothing will happen "

Maybe you hated the rain, or maybe you hated who it reminded you of even more, every single time it rained in Fontaine or in any place for that matter, you were stuck reminiscing about Neuvillette and if he was okay.

And it really wasn't your place to ask if he was okay—at the very least, not any more—but every single time you heard the pitter patter of raindrops, like clockwork you'd get this pressing urge to call him, check in on him, maybe even ask him about his day.

It's not like you both ended on bad terms, in contrast, it was the opposite, the breakup was mutual, somewhat, you both were busy people and at the very end of the day it was very little time you guys truly could spend with each other, maybe it was your schedules keeping you both apart, or maybe you were on a business trip and he was busy with his official duties as a judge or whatever, you guys were just so busy, it felt logical to go about your separate ways before things got too serious and one of you both got hurt.

But that's the thing about breakup's, it would hurt regardless, mutual breakup's much more so, you mean to tell me you loved someone and now your just supposed to get fucking over it, how does that even work!

And it's not like you could avoid him, your mutual social circles, and work circles are so intertwined your bound to see him in official gatherings, and it's always a little awkward having to talk business or casual or whatever with the person who knows more about you then some of your friends do.

Like oh you know my deepest darkest trauma's and what my mother said to me as a child and how it altered my brain chemistry forever, but lets forget all that and talk about how investing now is the best time ever and the current socio-economic state of our country.

And it's always a little bit worse when your both tipsy and saw something because the other will linger on those words for so long, like the other day he told you "I love you, I think I always will", while tipsy, and now your just supposed to sit down here, and just . . forget that?

You sigh, sitting on the couch, as you get ready for another weekend filled with excitement (zoning out on your couch with a glass of wine in hand), when your phone rings, and a name that shouldn't make your heart race as much as it does appears on your screen.

And you really shouldn't pick up the phone call, and you really shouldn't answer, your friends are practically yelling at you in your mind, and you could already picture their reactions but—

"hello?"

God he missed your voice, "Hi, y/n."

There was a pause, and the silence shouldn't feel as deafening as it does, but it causes your stomach to sink, just slightly, "how are you?", you ask just to erase the silence, you hated how awkward this felt.

"I'm good, actually—"

The two of you talked way longer then you should've, maybe even opened up a lot more then what is socially deemed acceptable for ex's, but who cared about what was socially acceptable right now? (spoiler alert, you did), and maybe you shouldn't be dressed up right now, and maybe you shouldn't be waiting for him to pick you up as you guys go on an impromptu dinner date, because, wow how shocking, you both haven't ate dinner yet, clearly this is a perfectly acceptable excuse to go get dinner together.

And clearly nothing will happen afterwards, right?

ARLECCHINO — " stay over? "

The two of you have been to this rodeo before, which in simple terms means you've broken up before—so it's not an entire shock—that your friends aren't taking this shit seriously at all, because yeah, how long is this breakup going to last, the last time you held out for a month and even that was a shock.

Because just as fast as that self respect comes to you, it leaves even faster—straight out the window—at the speed of light even. One day you'll wake up, pissed off at how busy she is, or upset over something she said, because the little voice in your head will over-read something to filth, or maybe a petty fight, and that would lead to you both cutting things off, and then a week after you're returning her calls, that you . . swore you wouldn't pick up. (and why the hell is she calling you anyways? That never ends well)

And maybe yeah you will comply with her "can we talk?" message, and maybe yeah you are going to meet-up with her, despite knowing what's going to happen, and yeah maybe you want that to happen, because your stupid ass did miss the women your supposed to forget.

And it's not like you can cut her off entirely . . no, because (un)fortunately you love those stupid kids of hers, and they love you too, and sometimes they'll steal her phone just too text you, asking you to come over and hang out, because one of them is grounded or whatever such reasoning and you'd be a perfect excuse to go outside. And very rarely, they might say they miss you on a call, and that just makes your heart melt, so obviously yeah your going over, despite your good judgement.

And maybe—just maybe—after the kids fall asleep, you'll linger in the house for too long, and you both might stay up talking or . . whatever, and maybe you'll find an excuse to stay over, and maybe just maybe she'll let you.

KAVEH — un-erasable

Kaveh leans back against his chair, the furnished wood creaking under his body pressure—the ink stained papers scattered across his desk now ignored, it held design plans, notes, and a bunch of other important shit that was due for his class . . . correction overdue now, he had asked for an extension that was drawing way too near for his liking, considering his progress.

His headache threatened to rip his head apart, who knew you could be hungover on wine . . and on the day he ran out of eggs for his hangover cure too . . and pain killers, today just wasn't his day, but when was. (he's being dramatic)

He saw you the other day, and you said hi . . then just ignored him (the audacity), to be fair, he didn't make a move to communicate with you either. That's how interactions have gone since you've broken up, either you both got way too into it or just didn't talk at all, and he preferred the former over the later.

He knows so much about you, little shit not everyone focused on, like your favorite pastries, how you prefer warm foods over cold, stupid stuff like that, which now holds a corner of his brain under hostage . . and now he's just gonna have to forget about that? Click alt + delete on all of that shit, and for what, for a petty breakup?

. . Maybe he should call you.

He shouldn't, his friends would kill him for his lack of self respect, which he lost a long time ago anyways.

DILUC — ' midnight calls '

The two of you have broken things off for some time, so it's been a while, and things have fallen somewhat back into place, over time that is.

The two of you don't really see each other, and you don't drink out or go to bars enough for it to be an excuse just to see him, and he doesn't frequent the places you like going too, for it to be an excuse to see you.

It's rare the two of you see each other, your friends don't mix. You both didn't mix well either, so isn't this just perfect? He's gone, and so are you, practically nonexistent.

And when the two of you do meet . . . it's never, without reason.

Yet, sometimes, you guys will see each other, or maybe call.

Late at night when something personal happens and there's no one else to confide in, he'll call you. Because he trusts you, and you like some idiot will pick up, because you know how much he thought about it, before he made that call.

And when you call, he'll pick up in the first ring. And the two of you will talk, like things were normal.

The two of you understand each other, having known the other for so long, he knows how to read you the best, and you in turn. Like magic almost, he'll call you when your upset, send you a text when you need a distraction, maybe he knew you felt that way, that shit about soul ties or whatever.

And one day, when your friends think you're over it, (you aren't, you met up with Diluc to return his shit, and you just haven't been able to pick your mood up since then.), they'll drag you too angel's share, and you'll see him again.

It's really not their fault, you never got around to mentioning that he sometimes went out of his way to pick up shifts at his winery whenever people took days off.

And maybe you'll see him again, and it wouldn't just be his voice your hearing, or a quick 15 minute meet up to return stuff because phone calls and seeing each other in person, really seeing each other in person is different.

And when you get a little too wasted because you choose to drown your feelings, rather then feel it, he'll offer to drive you home, and maybe you'll open up a little too much on the drive home.

And maybe he'll do the same.

KAEYA — " stuck with you (literally) "

Getting over an ex is hard, like really hard, all those memories and all those shared intimate moments, being vulnerable and shit . . . even harder when you both are still living together, like under the same literal roof.

Welcome to the brilliant shit show of a life that is yours, Kaeya and you broke things off around a week ago, and you still have around a month and a half of your lease left, . . which you both have paid for in advance, and since neither of you are giving that up and letting your payment go to waste (especially in the current housing crisis where finding a new apartment on such short notice is already hell), you're stuck with your ex for another month together.

Shit right?

"Fuck my life", you mumble, as Mona quite literally laughs in your fucking face, as you break things down for her, filling her in on everything.

"Couldn't put up with him for another month and a half?", she says, having the audacity to joke about your terrifying, horror story, worthy of a situation, "No, he's insufferable", you added with another sigh, "I cant even sleep at night, his evil presence keeps me awake at night", you add with another sigh, this time more dramatic then the last.

"Yeah, I bet, he keeps you awake at night", she added taking a sip of her overpriced overly complicated iced coffee order, "fuck you??"

But for all your theatrics, things really weren't much different from when you both were together, which . . lowkey has been pissing you off, why is he so unaffected by all this?, here you Robin's last album on loop in your headphones and he was causally doing work, and reading?? He could read?? (maybe he's unaffected because someone actually replaced Kaeya in his sleep and that's why he's so normal about this, because that's your only logical reasoning.)

And when he's not acting like this is completely normal, he's acting like he did when you guys were together, and maybe that shouldn't make your heart flutter, like how he made you coffee and stuff before he left for his shift the other day, and remembered the make it just how you like it, and yes that is the bare fucking minimum but you were weak, weak and pathetic, your friends would not be proud.

Or maybe he'll say a flirty comment that will have your heart fluttering, and obviously that comes naturally to him, Kaeya is a natural flirt, which pisses you off. Another reason to stay mad at him and not cave under zero pressure.

And sometimes you'll flirt back, and then your friends will shame you with a shame circle.

And then right after that, to add salt into the wound, that man, with the infuriating shit-eating grin will compliment you for something you do, or how you look, and your heart will beat like you just did a 5k, which you should be doing instead of sitting hear falling for just about 0 effort, because this is just naturally coming to him.

You may or may not last the one and a half month, it's truly a challenge you've left up to Celestia, because Archons knows you've caved and given up already.

THOMA — no one knows you've broken up

The two of you broke things off around a month ago . . except, you guys didn't really announce that you guys broke it off, the two of you did mention it, briefly in passing. During conversations when the two of your friends mentioned you both in passing. (did I mention your friend groups are very tied to one another?)

The two of you just didn't want to drag a lot of attention to your relationship being over, and make things awkward for the others . . . which is the excuse and hill you both are choosing to die on, in reality neither of you would like to truly acknowledge that things were over, because admitting it to everyone fully, is like solidifying things were over.

And you both were kind of okay with things right now, not exactly over but not exactly so, as well.

The two of you talk, things are fine, a few passing comments here and there, maybe a few flirty jokes, drunk I miss you's, avoiding eye contact at friendly meet-up's and events.

It was fine, really.

It was the best course of action for you both, he liked staying in one place and you liked travelling, and with no compromise in sight, it just felt okay to break things off, a easy solution, your goals didn't match.

But that didn't really change your feelings for each other, the logical reasoning was to leave, and you both did break things off.

However, when the two of you make eye contact, maybe even those lingering touches, and jokes that seem way too specific to be just a joke . . that you guys share to one another, is this really the outcome you both want?

Maybe not—especially not when, you get a little too happy when someone on the streets assumes your still together . . or the little smile on his face as people question when are you both going to tie the knot.

CHILDE — " lets hit it back for a rerun "

You guys have broken up, totally, officially this time and not just for shits and giggles, and maybe you guys still go out to functions together, and maybe you guys still like to hang around each other, why the hell not, your both great company, and hell, you guys both know each others interests really well, likes and dislikes, it's practically written in the stars or whatever for you guys to hang.

And so what if you guys flirt from time to time, joke about getting back together, and maybe spill a few I miss you's when your almost black out drunk, because that's totally normal, it's like when you get drunk and say "I love you" to your friends—because that's what he is, a friend.

And maybe, it's a little weird for you both to get jealous when someone else hits on either of you guys at the bar, and maybe he did cross a boundary, when he pushed that dude who was getting a little too touchy off of you—and maybe, it was a little far-fetched and totally in violation of your boundaries or whatever to drag you out of there, and tell you . .

"Is that the best you could do?", he mumbled under his breath, as he checked you over, almost like you could've gotten injured, when he's the one who picked a petty fight with the guy you were talking too, who yea did get a little handsy, but you weren't stopping him, you would've if he went any further.

"Excuse me?", you reply back in tone, adding snark to your tone, because clearly you needed the upper-hand in this argument, (did I mention he got you kicked out of the bar), "I mean if your going to go after someone, then at least try and pick someone who could one-up me", he says, in tune, his words having a slight edge to it, that just ticked you off, and suddenly you remembered why the two of you broke it off, no one could grind your gears more then the person in front of you.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean", you asked, quieter this time, trying not to press a fight this late into the night, because you weren't gonna be the one who said something they regretted in the morning.

"Plus why were they even hitting on you, when we haven't even gone public about breaking up", he mumbled to himself, completely ignoring your question, "You can't seriously be jealous over this", you asked, "well I'm, what are you gonna do about it?"

"—well", he cut you off before you could finish, and maybe yeah he did kiss you . . . and maybe you kissed him back, what about it.

ALBEDO — resident nonchalant dread-head

Your friends really hated him, and I mean despised him, they called him emotionally unavailable, and their first coarse of action after the breakup was to subtly jab at him in order to make you feel better, which never really worked.

Sure he was a little expressionless, and maybe that was something you liked about him, how difficult it was for other people to get a reaction out of him, because it made you feel all the more better when he did smile at you, or show you a side of himself that others would not see, or have the privilege of knowing. You liked being special, and in a way you were.

Needless to say the breakup broke you up, and it wasn't mutual in the slightest, in fact it was completely out of the blue on your end, and for the first month you were a wreck, I mean you met the guys family for fucks sake, and you still get along with his sister, who hasn't seemed to get the memo about you two being over, Klee is truly an angel (not) and your not breaking the news to her or cancelling the plans you had with her (because who does that to a fucking kid).

But things got weirder over time, to Albedo suddenly crashing in on your playdates with Klee, to getting jealous openly over things like you talking to other men, but it was subtle, so much so if you commented on it you'd sound insane, because like yeah the resident nonchalant dread-head who broke up with you is getting jealous, yea (name), we believe you.

And then that eventually turned into playfully flirting, which boiled over into you both agreeing to be friends, and friends casually hang out all the time right? So you guys started casually hanging out again, and so what if he sometimes got you things that were a little too expensive to be causal friend gifts, and maybe yeah he did pull up to your house with flowers, and maybe yeah you both do go out together, but you guys were still just being friends. (Your not making the first move after getting broken up with first, no this shits on him).

commissions / discord server / masterlist

Your brain breaks.

You lunge at him without warning “Zoro!”

He turns his head, barely reacting in time before you wrap your arms around his neck, jumping slightly so you can hang off him, nuzzling your face into the side of his jaw.

“YOU WERE SO COOL!! You chopped that thing like shing shing BAM! My big strong grumpy samurai baby!”

He stiffens “Oi! What the—”

You grab his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks together like dough.

“Look at this face! So serious! So brave! So slicey! UGH!!”

You start kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, even his frown line like you're on a mission.

Zoro is frozen. Arms hanging in the air like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“…Did you hit your head?” he finally mutters.

“No!” you say, still kissing him “I just... I have a thing!”

“A thing?”

“Yes! I get aggressive when things are too cute or too cool or too brave! Like when Chopper does his little dance or when cats squish into boxes—and now you!”

He gives you a blank look “So… you're calling me cute?”

“No,” you say seriously “I’m calling you the cutest deadly thing I’ve ever seen and I want to eat your face in the most loving way possible.”

“...What.”

A few feet away, the rest of the crew is watching like it’s a new show.

Luffy’s grinning, sitting on the railing “He’s gonna explode.”

Usopp is pale “I’ve never seen her like that. That’s terrifying.”

Sanji’s cigarette hangs from his lip, forgotten “He doesn’t deserve that level of affection, but damn if I’m not jealous.”

Robin chuckles “So, this is what she’s like when the mask slips. Fascinating.”

Back to Zoro who now has you hanging off his front, kissing under his chin while mumbling things like “my battle bear” and “look at this terrifying angel”.

He finally puts a hand on your back, awkwardly “…You’re seriously not joking.”

“Nope,” you chirp, grinning like a lunatic “I’m so proud of you I might die. Look at you! Protecting everyone without hesitation. You’re amazing.”

He stares at you. Then down at his swords. Then at the deck.

“I just killed a sea king.”

“And it was HOT.”

Zoro groans and hides his face behind your shoulder.

Later on you’re sitting on the grass, your head in his lap, Zoro finally having managed to drag you somewhere quieter. Sort of.

He’s sharpening his swords, jaw set, pretending he’s not enjoying the way you keep sneaking kisses to his thigh.

“You done acting weird?”

“Nope,” you say, immediately reaching up to pinch his cheek again “You’re mine now. This is the price.”

Zoro sighs, annoyed.

But he doesn’t move your hand.

Instead, he glances down, and there’s a tiny hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“You better not do this in front of enemies.”

“No promises.”

“…Tch.”

You grin and tug him down for another forehead kiss.

And this time, he lets you.

── .✦ Sanji:

You’ve been good today. Calm. Collected. You kept your hands to yourself through breakfast, through a minor skirmish with Marines, and even through Sanji’s dramatic backflip dodge while holding two plates of soup.

But now… Now he’s plating dessert.

He hums a little as he swirls whipped cream into perfect little peaks.

His hair falls over his eye just a bit, and there's flour on his cheek.

You try. You really try.

But no... You’re losing it.

“Sanji—” you say, voice tight.

He turns with a warm smile “Yes, my love?”

You’re already marching toward him.

“Oh no,” he says, eyes wide with anticipation “Is it time?”

“It’s time.”

You slam into him like a heat-seeking missile, arms wrapping tight around his middle as you squish your cheek against his chest.

“TOO PERFECT. TOO BEAUTIFUL. TOO TALENTED” you shout into his shirt.

Sanji laughs and drops the whipped cream just in time to catch you with both arms.

“Mon dieu, you’re doing it again. You’re going to kill me with affection.”

You grab his face “GOOD. DIE WITH LOVE.”

You start smothering him in kisses: forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, ears, rapid-fire smooches with increasing intensity.

Sanji nearly melts.

“Chérie, please, my heart can only take so much—”

“Look at you!” you cry, squeezing his cheeks “Your stupid little smile and your perfect food and your gentleman act! You’re SO ANNOYINGLY AMAZING!”

He practically purrs “Say that again.”

“You’re the most beautiful, talented, wonderful man in the world and I want to chew your stupid perfect face like a mochi bun.”

He gasps softly “Marry me.”

“I might do.”

“Then we have to arrange it all.”

Later that evening, you’re sitting peacefully on a chair, flipping through a book.

Sanji walks past you carrying a tray of tea and pauses.

He glances over his shoulder.

You glance up.

There’s flour on his sleeve.

His shirt is rolled up to the elbow.

He’s humming again.

You’re holding it together, but barely.

He smirks “You okay, mon amour?”

You stare.

He walks closer “You’re looking at me like I’m a chocolate cake with legs.”

You slam the book shut and launch up, but before you can pounce, he spreads his arms wide like an invitation.

“Come here, ma chérie. Ruin me.”

You leap into his embrace and he spins you around, laughing as you kiss his face over and over and over.

“You’re shameless!” you giggle.

“I’m in love,” he says dramatically “If your kisses were a drug, I’d be long dead.”

“I will squish your cheeks into dumplings and feed them to seagulls.”

“Please do.”

“You’re too pretty, it’s unfair.”

“I’ll ugly it up a little. Give me a day.”

“NO! I love your face, I’d wear it like a scarf if I could.”

He fake-swoons “Do it. Take it. I’m yours.”

“Is this… normal now?” Zoro mutters as he watches you pin Sanji against the wall of the kitchen, attacking him with affectionate nibbles and kisses while he happily takes it, hands holding your waist like he’s never been more at peace.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nami says, sipping her drink “They’re like this almost every day.”

Brook hums “Yohoho! True love is terrifying.”

Robin smiles behind her book “At least it’s harmless. Though, she did try to bite his nose once.”

“She did bite my nose,” Sanji calls out helpfully “It was magnificent.”

Zoro turns away, muttering, “Get a room.”

“We have a room!” Sanji replies “We’re just taking the scenic route!”

Hours later, you’re snuggled on the couch in the kitchen, your head on Sanji’s lap, while he runs his fingers through your hair.

“You good now, love?” he asks gently.

You sigh “I think I emptied the tank.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead “You can refill it tomorrow. I’ll be ready.”

You open one eye “You really don’t mind when I get like that?”

He smiles “Mon amour… I live for it.”

You smile too “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

“I hope I do,” he says “Over and over again.”

── .✦ Law:

Law is reviewing maps. His fingers tap against the table in a steady rhythm, eyes darting from note to note. His crew has just docked at a remote island, nothing dramatic today. Just calm preparation.

You're leaning against the wall, watching him.

He’s focused. Serious. In control.

You normally admire that about him.

But now?

It's making you suffer... a lot.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He mumbles something about currents and wind speeds. His lips move with precision. His fingers glide over the paper and...

... and that’s it.

You break.

“Law” you say, voice suspiciously innocent.

He hums without looking up “Mm?”

You walk up behind him slowly. Too slowly. His head lifts just slightly, eyes flicking toward you, narrowing.

“…What are you doing?” he asks flatly.

You don’t answer.

You leap onto him from behind.

“AHHH—”

He jolts forward a little as your arms wrap tight around his neck, your face burying in the side of his head.

“YOU’RE SO SMART. SO FOCUSED. I WANNA BITE YOUR BRAIN THROUGH YOUR SKULL—IN A LOVING WAY!”

“WHAT—?! Y/N—what are you—”

You pull back only to grab his face and start kissing it in a fury. Forehead. Nose. Cheek. Jaw. Temple. Eyelid. Repeat.

“SO! SMART! AND! SEXY! AND! SERIOUS!”

“Are you having some kind of episode?” Law says, voice strangled.

“Yes,” you gasp “It’s called cuteness aggression and you’re the disease.”

Minutes later, Law is leaning back in his desk chair, defeated, while you sit on his lap like an overjoyed little goblin, hands on his cheeks, staring at him lovingly.

“You’re not supposed to be like this” he mutters.

“Like what?” you blink innocently.

“You’re usually calm. Rational. Controlled.”

“I lied,” you say sweetly “That was just the bait phase. This is my final form.”

Law sighs and covers his eyes with one hand “I can’t do diagnostics like this.”

“Sure you can,” you whisper, kissing his nose again “You just need to adjust to your new life. With me on your lap. Forever.”

He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “help”.

“Too late,” you say “I’ve chosen you.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re perfect. Look at this little line between your eyebrows. It’s my favorite. Can I kiss it?”

“No.”

You kiss it anyway.

He tries to work. He really does.

You're sitting nearby. Quiet. Reading. Acting like a normal person again.

Then Law says something offhanded, like, “The odds of ambush are low, but possible.”

You immediately drop the book.

You spin in your seat.

“Low but possible? SO. ARE. YOU. That’s you. You’re a low-chance rare-drop man. A mythic legendary boyfriend. I’M GOING TO KISS YOUR EARS.”

“Please do not kiss my ears.”

You pounce again “TOO LATE!”

You squeeze his face gently, tilt it like he’s a confused doll, and begin your assault.

He groans “This is emotional terrorism.”

“You love it.”

“…I don’t hate it.”

Later that night, you’re laying together in his quarters, the world quiet, your head on his chest. He’s stroking your back slowly, finally calm again.

“You’re weird” he murmurs.

“Yup.”

“I liked you better when you were pretending to be emotionally stable.”

You smile into his shirt “Liar.”

“…Yeah,” he mutters “I am.”

You lift your head just enough to look him in the eye “Do you want me to stop?”

He hesitates.

Then, softly “…No.”

You grin “Good. Because I was going to keep doing it anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your hair “Of course you were.”

── .✦ Ace:

Ace drops out of the sky like a meteor, lands on the deck with a dramatic crouch, and tosses a flaming Marine cannon overboard like it’s a beach ball.

Everyone cheers.

You’re already running toward him.

He stands up, beaming, shirt half open, flames still curling off his shoulders.

You throw your arms around him like a tackle.

“BABY!! YOU LIVING INCINERATOR! MY FLAMING HERO!!”

He laughs, wrapping you up tight “I missed you too, firecracker!”

You grab his cheeks.

“I am going to smooch you so hard your freckles become stars.”

“PLEASE DO.”

You slam kiss after kiss to his face, and he laughs through all of it “Wait—no, don’t stop, I’m just surprised! You’re usually the calm one!”

“That version of me is dead,” you say seriously “You dropkicked a cannon midair. I’m going feral.”

“Finally!” he cheers “Join me in chaos!!”

You bite his cheek lightly.

He gasps “I’m in love.”

The rest of the crew watches you both clinging to each other like human Velcro, nuzzling and giggling and attacking each other with affection.

“It’s like watching two puppies roll down a hill” Marco mutters.

Thatch wipes a tear “Beautiful. Gross. But beautiful.”

Ace is now spinning you in a circle while you repeatedly yell, “YOU’RE SO STUPIDLY HOT, IT MAKES ME ANGRY.”

“YEAH?! GOOD! I WANNA BE HOT FOR YOU FOREVER!”

“STOP SMILING LIKE THAT YOU HANDSOME PIECE OF SUNSHINE!”

“I CAN’T, YOU’RE TOO CUTE WHEN YOU YELL.”

Later, Ace plops down beside you, sweaty and soot-streaked after another skirmish. He opens his arms wide.

“Do your thing” he says.

You blink “What thing?”

He grins “You know. That thing. The... 'aggressive cuddles and I-want-to-chew-your-face' thing.”

“Ohhh, you want the full package?”

“Yes please.”

You tackle him to the ground instantly.

“MY BEAUTIFUL DUMB IDIOT. MY FLAMING HOT DORK. MY BRAVE EXPLOSION HUSBAND.”

You kiss his forehead.

Then both cheeks.

Then his jaw.

Then you pause.

“You smell like smoke and sea salt.”

“Romantic, huh?”

“You smell like danger and I love it.”

“I love you.”

You pause again “Ew. That was corny.”

“You just licked my face like a cat two minutes ago.”

“Fair.”

At night, lying in a hammock together, he holds you tight against his chest. The wind is quiet. The sea gentle.

He brushes his fingers through your hair.

“You really don’t get embarrassed?” he whispers.

“Not when it comes to you” you murmur back.

“Even when you call me a ‘beautiful flaming dumbass’ in public?”

“Especially then.”

He grins into your hair.

“I like this side of you” he says.

You look up “You mean the clingy one that kisses your nose in front of your whole crew?”

“No,” he replies softly “The one that doesn’t hold back.”

You smile.

“Then you’re stuck with me.”

Ace kisses your forehead.

“Good. Because I’d set the world on fire before I let you go.”

── .✦ Chopper (+ Zoro):

“Okay, next patient,” Chopper says proudly, flipping his clipboard “Let’s see Y/N, it’s just your check-up!”

You sit on the exam table swinging your legs “Yup! I’m ready, Doctor Tiny Genius.”

“I told you not to call me that” he mutters, hiding his flustered face behind the clipboard.

You lean down and whisper, “But you are a tiny genius.”

“Stop iiiit,” he whines, blushing, “I’m just doing my job!”

You watch him waddle around the room with his little doctor coat and stethoscope.

He’s so smol. So serious. So determined.

You can’t hold it.

“Chopper,” you whisper “Come closer.”

He looks up, confused “Huh? Why?”

“Come. Closer.”

“Are you okay—?”

You snatch him right off the ground and CRADLE him in your arms.

“TOO CUTE. TOO KIND. TOO FLUFFY. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I’M GONNA EXPLODE.”

“W-WHA—?!” Chopper’s face is glowing red “W-WAIT! I—I’m your doctor—!”

You rub your cheek against his fuzzy face “You are my doctor AND my emotional support reindeer. Let me love you.”

“You’re squishing my antlers—!”

“They are precious and I would die for them.”

Chopper flails, but doesn’t really try to escape. He’s used to this. You do this at least once a week.

“I’m gonna tell Zoro!” he threatens, kicking gently.

“Zoro loves it. He thinks you’re cute too.”

Zoro is leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold.

You cradling Chopper like a plush toy while Chopper pretends to be mad but actually leaning into your touch.

Zoro sighs... and smile.

“You’re enabling her” Chopper says accusingly.

Zoro shrugs “You are adorable.”

“Not you too!” Chopper squeaks.

You smirk “See? I told you.”

Zoro walks over and gently ruffles Chopper’s hat “Deal with it, doc. She only does this to her favorite people.”

Chopper freezes. Blinks. Looks between you and Zoro.

“R-Really?”

You nod and boop his nose “Only the elite get aggressively snuggled.”

He goes completely red, squeaks, and buries his face in your shoulder.

“Okay... but just for five more seconds.”

You squeeze him tighter “Ten.”

Later, as you finally let Chopper go, he adjusts his little coat and clears his throat.

“I’m still your doctor” he says sternly.

“Of course, Doctor Cutie.”

“Don’t call me that! …I mean, you can, but—wait, no, don’t make it a thing!”

Zoro pats his head on the way out “Too late.”

You lean over and whisper to Zoro “I’m gonna dress him up as a little surgeon plush next time.”

Giggling and Kicking Your Feet

⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⚔︎

Zoro was at it again. torturing you slowly, meticulously and agonizingly. or, maybe just working out. he was in the middle of the deck, hot sun blaring down at him as if challenging him to push himself even further. he never did it intentionally— he just trained like he always had and would continue to do daily. you couldn’t even be mad about being up so early to watch him when his abs were displayed in full glory as he lifted his swords above his head and—

“ohhuh,” you felt your knees weaken slightly as you stumbled to grab onto the banister. your head was spinning, vision dancing slightly.

zoro was a hazard to you.

you stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tumbling into sanji, who looked up from the sink in alarm. upon seeing that it was you, he smirked, eyeing you knowingly. “mosshead training again?”

you groaned in answer, your head falling against the counter slightly too hard.

“oh, love…” sanji sounded pitying, though he was still smirking in amusement. he slid you a glass of water and clicked his tongue, “suppose you could stop watching him every day? avert your eyes to literally any other direction…”

you scoffed, eyeing him like he was insane.

“oh, of course… of course you couldn’t. how silly of me…”

“cook,” you flinched as if you had been shot as zoro stepped into the gulley. he took you in, eyes softening, dangling shirt shifting from his hand to over his shoulder.

“morning,” he nodded to you, the faintest smile evident on his face.

“morn—“ the rest choked out and was cut off as your eyes drifted south, to where his abs gleamed with sweat and the v of his—

sanji whistled and you flinched. you flushed scarlet, eyes dropping to literally anywhere else.

“can i get some water?”

you stumbled over your own feet and beat sanji to the faucet to fill him a glass. sanji just eyed you incredulously, still thoroughly amused.

“are you okay?”

you watched him down the water, swearing time seemed to slow as his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“i think she just needs a cold shower. she may have overheated a bit…”

you shot sanji a glare but zoro was already moving, hand outstretched towards your forehead, eyebrows knit with concern.

“i’m– no, i’m okay—“

zoro eyed you with a worried intensity, sliding the glass back towards sanji as he looked you over, “you seem alright… is there anything i can get you? do i need to get the cook to make you something?”

sanji hummed, slicing potatoes into thin cubes, “not sure i have what she’s wanting… it’s not exactly on the menu—“

you stomped backwards, heel landing on sanji’s foot with clear intention. sanji cursed and muttered under his breath, looking up at you with wide, slightly tearfilled eyes.

zoro just looked at you, looked to sanji, then blinked. sometimes you wished he was slightly less oblivious. especially when it came to you and the painfully obvious effect he had on you.

nami was sighing in time with you, batting her eyelashes sarcastically as you ogled over zoro once again. she was watching you, torn between annoyance and amusement. anyone who saw you half bent over the guard rail and doe eyed would call you pathetic— and they would be right.

“you’re going to cut yourself in half if you don’t stand up straight.”

“just look at him— i mean, that physique shouldn’t even be possible.”

“he works out for at least an hour every day… of course he’s going to be fit.”

“fit.” she said it so casually and you snorted, “you say that as if he’s not… like, utter perfection. sculpted by—“

“zoro!”

zoro glanced up, eyebrow lifted.

“put on a shirt before your girlfriend chokes on her own drool.”

your face flushed and you looked at nami furiously. you glanced back at zoro and nearly shrieked when you found him inches away, now eyeing you with a smirk.

shit. holy shit, he was even nicer up close—

as if you hadn’t seen him a million times and woken up with him smothering you as he snored and nearly suffocated you with an arm across your cheek.

“you look a little red…”

you tried to glance anywhere but him but he took two fingers and pulled your head to face him. “it’s hot.”

“is it?” his voice held that dangerous tone, voice rasping just slightly. your legs turned to jelly and his smirk deepened.

“if you see something you like, you can just ask… i would be happy to make special arrangements so you can touch the merchandise—“

you cursed as your stomach flipped and heart raced, eyes meeting his likely like a deer in headlights. zoro only grinned wider, smug with that expression that promised something you couldn’t entirely handle. zoro tilted his head, smirking, “have you always been this interested in my workouts? and have they always gotten you so….”

he gestured vaguely, eyes hungry as his smirk remained, “hot and desperate.” you crossed your arms, eyebrows lifted in exaggerated offense.

“i’m not judging you, sweetheart. it’s quite flattering. who knew i didn’t have to touch you to get this worked up.” he leaned down and shifted his fingers to your jawline, tilting his head slightly with a smirk. “would you like me to do something about your predicament? sanji mentioned a cold shower… or we could try other methods…”

you stumbled and nearly collapsed into him at his words, exhaling shakily as he caught you with a smirk, “come on, sweetheart. i’ll help you to our room…” he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

ঌ ঌ ঌ ঌ

Ace never wore a shirt— in your defense, it wasn’t hard to stare at him. he was taller than almost everyone else, broader than almost everyone else and again– had a cruel and torturous aversion to shirts. really, it was harder to not stare at him. it wasn’t just you, either! anytime you were out with him, there was at least four women eyeing him like he was a prize stallion up for auction. you really couldn’t help yourself… he was, in every way that counted, exquisite. sculpted by the gods, freckles hand painted to look like the stars you loved so much.

the problem was your beloved boyfriend didn’t seem to realize just how much effect he had on you. and he had truly no shame when it came to sprawling out on the deck; tanning or napping, doing push ups, doing sit ups— or gods forbid— pull ups. the pull ups… the way his veins popped and sweat glistened off him reminding you of some dessert you very much would lick frosting off of—

“ahem.” you wheeled around so quickly you lost your balance and nearly sprawled out on the deck like a corpse. there was snickers as you huffed and brushed yourself off.

“sorry.” you tried to regain your bearings but the glazed, out of it expression wouldn’t leave your face– nor would the blush that was the result of your stomach twisting and heart racing, “what?”

“gods, he has got to give you a break.”

“i wasn’t— we weren’t—“

gods, your mind was in the gutter. you rubbed your face and cursed the effect he had on you– and how it was obvious and insulting to everyone else on the crew. marco was smirking with his arms crossed over his chest. izou only glanced between you and ace with an exasperated smile that he didn’t fully mean.

“hey, hot head!”

ace lifted his hat off his face and squinted into the sun. he grunted slightly as he stood up, muttering under his breath about uninterrupted nap time. he stretched, horrifyingly, arms above his head, muscles drawn tense as he flexed and stretched out before yawning again.

“one hundred berry says she faints.”

izou snorted and eyed marco with an amused smile, “again…”

you rolled your eyes and huffed, sending both of them an irritated glare, “perhaps you’re just jealous. because we’re happy and i’m obsessed with my—“

izou clicked his tongue and snorted, “no, no, sweetheart. you can have hot head. he is all yours. i got my booze and the sea. i have no desire for all….” she gestured rather grotesquely and you fought back a smirk, “that. or anyone…”

“we hear enough about it already to ever have a desire for what…you two have.”

“i have never once gone into detail!”

“no need, sweetheart! you always look at him like he’s the first meal your starving ass has ever seen.”

your cheeks flushed slightly but your smirk only grew.

“not to mention it’s not a very large ship.”

“oi, and the walls are thin…”

other crew members had gathered around you and joined in on the snickering and apparent betting on how soon it would be before you fainted or walked off the side of the ship just to cool off. you gritted your teeth and breathed out slowly, thrilled that your attraction and fondness of your boyfriend was such an amusing group spectacle.

“what’s going on here?”

ace had crossed the ship and stopped in the middle of the heckling crew, lifting an eyebrow with a skeptical expression.

“making bets, hot head.”

“oh yeah? two hundred berry on whichever side is against marco.”

you fought back a smile but it didn’t last long before someone else opened their mouth, “actually, we’re betting to see weather your girlfriend will pass out or drown herself before she implodes.”

ace paused running his hand through his hair, eyebrows raised, amusement turning to concern, “what?” he turned his attention to you, suddenly wide awake, “why would she do that?”

you moved to take several steps away from him, but marco smacked you on the back with a phlemy laugh, “i think she’s got the hots for you.”

ace furrowed his brows, waiting for him to elaborate, as if that wasn’t already obvious since you had agreed to that first date you had nearly begged him for.

“i think she’s just hot…”

“and bothered.”

you cursed under your breath and glanced over your shoulder, considering if a jump off the plank really was worth avoiding this. ace eyed you, confusion and cluelessness written on his face. you opened your mouth to laugh it off and tell him to ignore them, but apparently the crew’s grievances about you constantly tripping over yourself and drooling over your well established boyfriend had them finally fed up.

“oh she doesn’t shut up about you. she was chopping vegetables this morning, going off about the color of your eyes.”

“she tripped and knocked over barrels of whiskey because you were cooling yourself off yesterday.”

“next time you’re exercising those muscles you’ll have to warn us so we can at least blindfold her first.”

oh, yes— drowning would have been better than this.

you were envisioning how to slowly kill each and every member of your crew, when ace finally turned to you. your brain short circuited and you once again fought the urge to just shrivel up and die.

ace was smirking. not just his usual playful or flirty smirk— no, this smirk was lethal. it was smug and egotistical, as if he had gotten away with stealing the entire universe.

“is that so?” ace crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head slightly in a way that made your knees nearly buckle. godsdamn him for being so lethally attractive. even without his smirk. or those dark eyes that locked you in place.

you knew you were blushing. you knew your face was so red that you wouldn’t be able to look at anyone for a week. even still, you couldn’t let him win. you couldn’t let him keep that satisfied, smug smirk on his face.

stupidly, you crossed your arms and tilted your chin up, challenging him, “and what about it?”

ace narrowed his eyes slightly, smirk deepening as if the thought of you challenging him made this even better. your hands were shaking, your knees threatened to drop you. his tongue flicked across his bottom lip and you broke. your knees dropped, stumbling forward into him with a shudder. ace was ecstatic. his smirk turned to a grin and you breathed out shakily.

“sweetheart.”

you braced for the comment or nickname or suggestive words that would inevitably be your killing blow.

“yes, ace?” you sighed, bracing for impact, bracing for collapsing into the floor once again.

“if you ever stop being this in love with me, please let me know… i shall walk myself right off the side of the ship.”

you scrunched your nose up and tugged him down to finally kiss you— as if that was payment for torturing you and enjoying it.

౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ

Sanji was attractive; this was plain to see to everyone yet it still baffled you that he had never once had luck with women. zoro and nami constantly gave him shit for it, pointing out how much effort he put in just to be shot down repeatedly. when you had first met him and he flashed that charming smile and met you with those blue eyes that locked you in place, you were done for. truly. you had never once believed in love at first sight until you met sanji.

even more shocking- when sanji flirted with you it worked. too damn well… sanji was so caught off guard that he stumbled through the menu and mispronounced half of the wines, visibly sweating and trying to stay standing. you couldn’t keep your eyes off him and zoro wondered if he had put some kind of spell on you.

sanji had almost thought you were joking when he first asked you to dinner— a private dinner he had cooked, somehow away from luffy— and you had said yes. he was rather pathetic when it came to you- going out of his way to do anything and everything without being asked. you practically melted the first time he took your hand and kissed your knuckles, your arm, your shoulder, finally your neck— he was everything romantic and chivalrous and didn’t at all belong on a pirate ship or on a wanted poster.

months in, and you were still just as pathetically and grossly obsessed with him. zoro was on the deck shirtless, sweating and being slightly in the way, while luffy and usopp dared him to add more and more weight to lift. “are you enjoying the view?” you snorted in amusement and shook your head, eying nami with a playfully incredulous expression. nami laughed and nudged you, “i forgot, you only admire sanji. when he’s cooking, when he’s smoking, when he breathes…. when he’s sleeping.” you smirked to yourself, not about to deny a fact. you just smiled smugly and stepped into the gulley where your preferred and favorite view lied. sanji was at the counter, slicing vegetables like it was an art. you bit your lip as he rolled his sleeves up and wiped condensation from the steaming pot off his forehead. if sanji glanced at you now, he would fold like a piece of paper. the eyes you were giving him, the flush of your cheeks, your lip tucked between your teeth… he would abandon lunch completely and once again everyone would have you to blame for a late meal, burnt food and a heated make out in the kitchen that someone accidentally walked in on.

sanji looked up as soon as you were close enough to him for him to sense your presence. his eyes lit up and he leaned over the counter to kiss you, “hello mon amour… is there something i can do for you?” you tugged at his shirt collars when he moved to pull away, deepening the kiss as if he had been so cruel and unjust as to withhold kisses from you since this morning.

“oh gods, not again–“ nami stopped in the doorway, looking torn between irritation and a small fondness for how happy you truly were.

“something you need, nami?” sanji barely took his eyes off you, still leaning to kiss you.

nami crossed her arms, lifting her eyebrows in question, “can i make a request?”

sanji shrugged, glancing over at her with minimal interest, waiting for her to continue.

“stop making out in the kitchen.”

sanji’s mouth twitched, eyes returning to you with that intense hunger that always made you fold, “if you can’t stand the heat, nami, get out of my kitchen…”

sanji placed one more delicate kiss on your forehead and you inhaled shakily as he returned to the stove. he always dropped whatever he was doing to greet you and make sure you knew you were the priority. sanji pushed the diced vegetables around in the pan, lifting a cigarette with his other. your mouth hung open slightly as he lit it and inhaled deeply. he readjusted his sleeves above his elbow and exhaled. you watched the smoke curl up from his lips like a trance, unaware of how utterly pathetic you looked. nami snorted and you barely noticed. sanji ran a hand through his hair and your knees buckled; you nearly collapsed onto the floor, had your hands not been gripping the table, white knuckled.

“good grief,” nami eyed you like she was in awe of your brain function getting lesser and lesser when it came to sanji. sanji glanced up, over his shoulder, eyeing you with lifted brows, “are you alright, my darling?” the softness in his tone nearly had you folding again and nami huffed, “that’s going to make it worse, sanji. care less… ignore her. do something—“

you glared at nami briefly, but sanji just lowered his head to place another kiss to your forehead, “i would never ignore you, mon cherie…” your grip on the table tightened and nami choked out a laugh, thoroughly amused that him being so reassuring and loving just made you all the more worked up.

sanji held your hand as you glanced into every shop window you passed. you had lost the rest of the crew somewhere between docking and the town square though neither of you would complain or worry about rare alone time.

“if you see something you like, mon amour, please don’t hesitate…”

you glanced up at him shyly, smile slowly starting to spread. sanji eyed you with a soft amusement, “mon cherie, i’m offended you didn’t speak up. what is it? anything you want and it’s yours…”

you tugged on his hand for him to follow you back the way you had just come, though sanji didn’t need to be pulled— he was already following you before you had taken a step away from him.

you returned to the agreed upon meeting place five minutes late, flushed and slightly out of breath, with sanji both carrying your bags and asking if you were okay— the former was why he had needed to ask the latter. nami was staring— she nudged zoro who was smirking in utter amusement, “get lost?”

“not at all. my angel saw something she liked…”

nami glanced at zoro and his smirk widened even more, “whipped.”

nami sighed, shaking her head in amusement, “if only he knew the truth. neither one of them would ever be able to stand straight or be in the same room…”

sanji lifted an eyebrow, “what are you two smirking about?” you held your hand out to take the bags from sanji, to which he switched the bags to his other hand, put his free hand in yours and then brought your hand up to his lips.

oh, that had done it.

zoro and nami watched your brain short circuit and your breath catch as you breathed out shakily. you were now staring at the ground, trying very hard to stay standing.

“are you alright my—“

“for goodness sake, sanji! don’t say another thing to her if you want her to remain conscious.”

sanji froze, glanced at nami, wide eyed and confused, then glanced at you in concern, “what’s going on? did i do something?”

“oh, you were pretty much just born…” zoro sighed and shifted on his feet, hand resting on his swords like he was tired, “and then she met you in a restaurant. and we’ve not stopped hearing about you since…”

your eyes shot to zoro with a look that you hoped promised a slow, painful death.

nami was almost laughing now, clearing her throat to find a voice that was playfully meant to be you, “oh, sanji is cooking again… i’d better make sure i’m in there to drool over him.”

zoro smirked, amused and joining in, “oh, he rolled his sleeves up, someone better catch me when i inevitably pass out—“

“he’s smoking again, someone better dump cold water on my head—“

“alright! thank you…. for that.” you had seemed to shrink several inches, posture tense and awkward. sanji was eyeing you with a questioning expression, a small, timid smile on his lips.

“are they…. do you…do that?”

“do i— well— i just— i think— i—“

sanji looked very near to melting. his grip had tightened on your bags and his hand shifted from your hand to your chin, gentle. “i never noticed?”

“i was hoping not… half the time u don’t realize im doing it… you’re just so—“ you gestured to all of him and zoro scoffed.

you braced for a comment, a flirtatious remark, a smirk that would bring you to your knees— maybe even for sanji to throw you over his shoulder and sprint you both back to the merry.

instead, sanji knelt down— knelt down– in front of you and took your hand in both of his. there was a choke behind you but you couldn’t even focus on your surroundings. the world slowed, your head spun—

“i’m undeserving of you, my darling… you love me so well. so much… after all this time. to think you look at me the way i look at you. to think i am loved even a fraction of the way i feel for you— thank you. thank you, my angel… please let me spend the rest of my life with you. please let me keep loving you and being with you…”

zoro coughed, nami stood with her mouth open and luffy and usopp were just showing up, both applauding cluelessly. you just nodded, nearly as stunned as nami, though much much closer to passing out.

“i should get a ring— i should—“

you dropped to your own knees, despite sanji quickly standing and trying to pull you to your feet and make sure you never lowered yourself for him– you met him half way with a kiss that had both of you wrecked— but it was a very good thing you were both already on your knees…

᳂ ᳂ ᳂ ᳂

Luffy had grabbed you so suddenly that you hadn’t even yet been aware of what was happening. sanji and zoro were already approaching as luffy swung his first strike. you never really got used to the rubber thing… every time he fought or went out of his way to pull you against him, it was like seeing it for the first time— ironic, since luffy was all hands and all consuming all the time. he had saved you enough times now that you had learned to stay out of his way and not to question him if he was randomly pushing, pulling or dragging you rapidly away.

zoro and sanji stopped beside you with a sigh, “what now?” you just shrugged, eyes watching luffy in the fight that you hadn’t heard the beginning of or reason for.

regardless, luffy always looked good fighting. he managed to keep his hat on, which was a remarkable achievement of its own, when he was all limbs and flailing half the time. you winced as a single blow landed on luffy, though he either didn’t feel it or didn’t care—

“not the face…” you sighed, crossing your arms. zoro snorted, while sanji shook his head, “our captain is more than capable, as you know by now…”

“doesn’t mean i want his pretty face bruised.”

you pouted slightly, though your eyes were playful. luffy flew through the air suddenly and you cursed.

“do you think we should help him—“

zoro had his hands on his swords, though no sooner than he moved did the opposing foe drop to the ground. luffy returned to you with a small smile, only slightly out of breath.

“what was that about?”

“he looked at her.”

you almost snorted, eyeing him with an amused disbelief.

“your girlfriend was worried about your face, by the way…” zoro returned his sword to his side and smirked only slightly.

luffy turned to you, brows furrowed, “really?” you expected him to say something cute, but he wiped at his face in determination, “was there food on it?”

this time you did laugh, “no, luffy… believe it or not, i don’t want you buried and broken.”

he grinned at this, realizing you were being cute. he moved closer to you, arm around your shoulders, “not to worry, then… it all bounces off me.” he placed a messy kiss against the side of your cheek and you grinned.

his kisses were always messy and wet, sometimes acting more like he was tasting you than kissing you. “i think it’s cute that you worry about me.”

you scrunched your nose up slightly as he pulled you even closer until you almost couldn’t breathe, “and i just think you’re cute.”

luffy let out one of his laughs, loud and obnoxious, warming your chest like a hug. he flushed only slightly, hand on his hat like he was worried he would lose it. he kept his hand in yours as he moved to return his attention to food.

“i think luffy could beat anyone…” you shrugged innocently, pushing your half finished plate towards luffy, who would have no problem finishing it off.

“anyone?” nami eyed you incredulously.

“yes, anyone… name a single fight he hasn’t walked away from.”

“well arlong—“

“using sea water doesn’t count, nami.”

“i mean it is—“

“no, nami. using someone’s weakness isn’t winning…”

nami opened her mouth to argue, but sanji just shook his head slightly, as if warning that this was a useless argument. you truly believed luffy would beat anyone— would win any fight. sanji reminded nami of this and she just huffed.

luffy looked at you with wide eyes, glancing over his plate. he didn’t need you to defend him- he didn’t need you to believe in him, yet you always had. since they day you met him and joined his crew.

“it’s nice that she thinks so highly of me… if i ever stop believing in myself, i know there’s someone who will.”

you smiled softly at him from across the table and luffy just went back to eating, as if that hadn’t been one of the most romantic things he had ever said.

“you know she talks about you all the time… even when you’re stuffing your face, somehow… she thinks you’ve hung the stars.”

you flushed slightly, but zoro wasn’t lying. luffy’s eyes found you again, softer, the slightest amusement hid behind that loving expression.

“i know… i hear her. it’s nice… it makes me feel important.”

“you are—“

luffy lowered his now empty plate and took your hand, “i’m really glad you’re here. thank you.”

you fought away a stupid smile, sinking further into your chair as your heart swelled. “always, luffy… i would follow you anywhere.”

The market is too loud. People walk everywhere. Vendors shout. Children run between the stands. The smell of grilled food mixes with flowers and smoke.

You pull your hat lower.

“Stop looking nervous.” Law says beside you.

“I’m not nervous.”

“You keep fixing your sleeve every ten seconds.”

You immediately stop touching your sleeve.

Law gives you a look.

You glare back “This was not my idea.”

“Nor mine.” he says flatly “It was theirs.”

Ahead of you, Usopp laughs loudly while carrying a basket.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he says “Nobody suspects a married couple.”

You stare at him.

“You didn’t need to say newly married.”

“It added detail.” Usopp replies proudly.

“It ruined my life.”

Usopp shrugs “You already argue like a couple anyway.”

Law says nothing.

“You all forced us into this…” you say.

Usopp says “People trust married people.”

Law finally speaks “I still think this plan is stupid.”

Usopp points at him “But you agreed.”

Law looks annoyed “I agreed because we couldn't refuse.”

“And because you two look natural together.” Usopp says.

You nearly trip over your own foot “What?”

His smile widen.

Law exhales slowly.

“We should split up now.”

“Yes,” you say quickly “good idea.”

Usopp waves “Don’t forget to hold hands.”

You stop walking.

“You need to act believable.”

Law looks tired already “This is unnecessary.”

Usopp tilts his head “Married couples usually touch, you know?”

The silence after that feels painful.

You glance toward Law and he already looks done with life.

“Fine.” he says.

You blink “What?”

He holds out his hand.

You stare at it, then at him, then back at his hand… “This feels threatening.”

“Take my hand.”

“You sound like you hate me.”

“I sound tired.”

“That’s not better.”

“People are watching.”

You glance around and see one older woman smiling softly at you both.

You immediately look away and slowly, awkwardly, you place your hand in his.

Law’s fingers close around yours.

Your brain suddenly stops working for one second.

You hate that.

“There,” Law mutters “done.”

You clear your throat “Right.”

You both start walking again and neither of you says anything.

A vendor nearby smiles at both of you.

“Beautiful couple.” he says kindly.

Law slightly stiffens.

“Thank you.” you answer quickly.

“New marriage, right? You both look shy, it's cute.”

Your face burns and Law’s grip tightens slightly.

The vendor gives you extra fruit “For good luck.”

“Thank you.” you say again with a smile.

You walk away quickly and the moment you turn a corner, you pull your hand away “That was painful.”

“You answered too fast.”

“You said nothing.”

“You handled it.”

“You basically abandoned me.”

Law looks at you “I didn’t abandon you.”

“You absolutely did.”

“You were believable.”

You stare at him “Was I?”

“Yes.”

You look away. The street suddenly feels warmer.

Law starts walking again and you follow him, and for some reason your hand still remembers the warmth of his.

Later that day, you follow Franky until he stops in front of a small house hidden between two narrow streets.

“This is the place.” says proudly.

You look up.

The house is old but clean, with wooden walls, small paper windows, a quiet area far from the busy streets of Wano.

Perfect for hiding.

Franky places his hands on his hips.

“Nobody comes here. Safe location. Good roof. No weird smells.”

“That last one matters?” you ask.

“It always matters.”

Beside you, Law looks at the house “It’s isolated.”

“Exactly,” Franky says “good for undercover married life.”

You immediately sigh “Please stop calling it that.”

Franky grins “You two are famous already.”

Law looks tired “We shouldn’t be.”

Franky opens the door “Too late.”

You step inside.

The space is small. You all walk around and see the kitchen, the bathroom and then the bedroom .

One bed.

Very impossible to ignore.

You slowly turn.

Franky scratches the back of his neck “Oh right.”

You stare.

He points casually “Only one bedroom.”

Silence.

Law stares at the bed and then at Franky.

Franky lifts his hands quickly “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Married couple cover story. This makes sense.”

“You’re enjoying this.” you say.

“A little.”

Law exhales slowly “We’ll manage.”

Franky nods “You can stay here until things move forward. Nobody will bother you.”

He starts walking toward the door and pauses “Good luck!”

Then he leaves.

The door closes.

You stand there and Law stands near the entrance. Neither of you moves.

“This keeps getting worse…” you say.

Law glances toward the bed “Yes.”

You walk around the room slowly… there is a small couch near the wall.

Law notices it too and says “I’ll take the couch.”

You turn toward him “No.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re too tall for that.”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“That doesn’t mean you should.”

Law places his sword near the wall “I’ll sleep on the floor then.”

You blink “No.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

He looks at you “You take the bed.”

You cross your arms “And let my captain sleep on the floor?”

“It’s practical.”

“It’s stupid.”

Law raises a brow slightly “You sound annoyed.”

“I am annoyed.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting like sharing a bed is impossible.”

“It’s not impossible.”

“Then why are we arguing over it?”

Law goes quiet.

You sigh and sit on the edge of the bed.

The mattress sinks softly.

You look up at him “Listen.”

He stays still.

“We’re two adults.”

He says nothing.

“I don’t care about sharing a bed just for sleeping.”

His eyes stay on you.

“It’s not a big deal. We’re about to start a war.” your voice becomes softer “We should rest while we still can.”

Law watches you carefully.

You hold his gaze.

“So I don’t care what you say.” you finish “We’re both sleeping here.”

A long silence follows.

Then Law looks away first “…You’re stubborn.”

“You already knew that.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

You smile slightly “It means you should stop fighting.”

He sighs quietly “Fine.”

You hide your smile.

Night comes slowly.

The house becomes darker and rain taps softly against the roof.

You lie on one side of the bed.

Law lies on the other.

Enough distance.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

The room is quiet.

You hear Law shifting slightly beside you.

You turn onto your side… then back again.

Sleep refuses to come.

You sigh.

A second later Law sighs too.

You glance toward him.

He is staring at the ceiling.

“You awake?” you whisper.

“Yes.”

“This is awkward.”

“A little...”

You smile weakly “At least the mattress is comfortable.”

“Better than the submarine beds.”

“True.”

Silence again.

You shift and your arm brushes his accidentally, which makes you freeze.

He doesn't move away and neither do you.

Your eyes slowly meet even if there's barely any light, but you still see him clearly.

His eyes… his face… the way he looks at you focused and quiet.

The air grows heavier.

You move slightly closer without thinking and Law’s eyes lower to your lips, then back to your eyes.

Your heartbeat becomes impossible to ignore.

Slowly you lean closer and he meets you halfway.

The kiss starts soft and careful… almost testing. Then suddenly it deepens.

Your fingers lightly grab his shirt while his hand rests against your waist.

The kiss becomes stronger and needier, like both of you wanted this longer than either wants to admit.

Your chest presses closer to his and you feel his hand tighten slightly.

Then you both stop… still close and still breathing hard.

You clear your throat “Well…” Law watches you carefully as you continue “That definitely helps the married couple act.”

A pause. Then a small laugh leaves him.

You smile immediately.

“There,” you whisper “that’s less scary.”

“You think I’m scary?”

“Only when you look at people like you want to stab them.”

“Fair.”

The tension softens.

After a moment, Law shifts slightly closer. His arm wraps carefully around your waist. Giving you time to pull away but of course you don't.

Instead, you move closer. Your head rests against his chest.

You close your eyes.

Morning comes too fast.

You wake slowly, with something heavy resting around you.

Then you realize that Law’s arm is still holding you close. Your face presses against his chest, your leg tangled slightly with his.

The front door suddenly opens and before you can even react the bedroom door slides open.

And there Bepo… Penguin… Shachi… all frozen and all staring.

Silence.

Penguin blinks “Oh?”

Shachi’s eyes go wide “Oh.”

Bepo covers his mouth “Oh no…”

You stare at them still half asleep, and still trapped in Law’s arms.

Law slowly opens his eyes. He sees the crew and his expression becomes instantly dangerous.

“What are you doing here?” he says.

Penguin raises a hand “Usopp told us where you were.”

Shachi grins “And gave us a spare key.”

“Of course he did…” you mumble.

Bepo looks guilty “We came to bring supplies…”

Nobody moves.

Then Penguin points “You’re cuddling.”

“No.” Law says immediately.

“You absolutely are.”

“No.”

“You literally are.”

Law looks ready to commit murder.

Shachi wipes his eyes “The fake marriage is becoming real.”

“Get out.” Law says.

Penguin grins “Captain looks happy for the first time in his whole life.”

“Leave.”

“You look comfortable together.”

“Now.”

You bury your face into Law’s chest again “This is the worst morning of my life.”

Law’s arm tightens slightly around you, and somehow that makes it worse and better at the same time.

── .✦ Crocodile:

tags: slow burn, tension, forced proximity, suggestive

The desert is freezing at night, you hate that.

During the day, the heat feels endless and then at night, the cold slips under your skin like sharp fingers.

You pull your cloak tighter as you walk beside Crocodile.

He says nothing.

His coat moves slightly with the wind, sand shifts under your boots.

You glance toward him “Are you always this quiet?”

“Yes.”

“You know talking doesn’t kill people.”

“Depends what they say.”

You roll your eyes “Funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

You continue walking.

The small map in your hand shakes slightly from the wind “There should be a town nearby.”

“There is.”

“You sound very sure.”

“I’ve been here before.”

“Helpful information you could have said earlier.”

He exhales smoke from his cigar “You didn’t ask.”

You mutter under your breath “You’re impossible.”

“I hear that often.”

You hate that he sounds amused.

A few minutes later, lights appear in the distance.

A village.

You sigh in relief “Finally.”

The streets are quiet when you arrive, most places already closed. Only one inn still shows light through the windows.

You push the door open and warm air immediately hits your face.

You almost melt from relief.

An old man behind the desk looks up.

“Room?” he asks.

“We'd like two rooms.” you answer quickly.

The man shakes his head “Sorry, there's only one left.”

You freeze and turn your head.

Crocodile already looks annoyed.

The old man smiles “Storm tonight. Everything full.”

Outside, thunder rumbles softly.

You glance at Crocodile and he looks completely…. too calm.

“I’ll sleep outside.” you say quickly.

“No.” he says and looks at the innkeeper “We take it.”

You stare.

The old man hands over the key and you take it silently while your soul is already leaving your body.

The room is larger than expected, there's even a chair and a table… and one bed, a large one but still terrible for the circumstances.

You close the door behind you and silence fills the room.

Crocodile removes his coat slowly. You immediately look away for no reason.

“You can take the bed.” you say.

“No.”

“I don’t mind the floor.”

“You’ll freeze.”

“I survived worse.”

“So have I.”

You turn and he lights another cigar.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” he says.

“And I guess you’re not either.”

His gaze moves toward you.

The room suddenly feels warmer.

“It’s just a bed.” he says.

You laugh softly “You say that like this isn’t awkward.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Easy for him to say. He looks completely unaffected, which annoys you more.

You sit on the edge of the mattress.

“You don’t seem bothered.” you say.

“I’m tired and I'm not a kid.”

“That doesn’t answer me.”

“It answers enough.”

You narrow your eyes “You enjoy making people nervous.”

His mouth shifts slightly “Only when they pretend not to be.”

You look away first.

The room feels too small, too quiet and too warm.

Eventually, you lie down, keeping to one side.

Crocodile remains near the window for a while, watching outside and smoking.

Then he moves over and the mattress dips slightly as he lies beside you.

You stare at the ceiling. You can hear his breathing, slow and calm.

You hate how aware you suddenly are.

The room grows quieter.

You close your eyes to try to sleep.

Fail.

You turn slightly and the blanket shifts.

You sigh.

A second later you hear him say “You move too much.”

Your eyes snap open “You’re awake.”

“Yes.”

“You could’ve said something.”

“I was hoping you’d stop moving.”

You glare toward the darkness “You’re annoying.”

“You’ve said that before.”

You turn onto your side, facing away from him.

Then thunder cracks loudly outside and the sound, always given the circumstances, makes you jump slightly.

You freeze embarrassed by that.

A quiet sound comes from beside you, almost a low chuckle “You’re scared of storms?”

“No.”

“You jumped.”

“I was surprised.”

“Of course.”

You roll your eyes.

Then another loud crack shakes the windows and the room flashes briefly with lightning.

You shift automatically closer, before realizing.

You stop breathing.

Crocodile says nothing.

You slowly look toward him and his eyes are already on you.

The air changes.

The distance between you suddenly feels too small and definitely too noticeable.

His hand rests near yours, close enough to touch. You should move away but you don’t and neither does he.

Outside, thunder rolls again, but now you barely hear it.

The room flashes white for a second, then darkness returns.

You still haven’t moved and neither has .

His eyes stay on you.

“You’re staring.” you whisper.

“So are you.”

The fire crackles softly behind you and warm light moves across his face… the scar near his mouth… the slow rise of his chest.

Everything suddenly feels too close, too quiet and too aware.

Outside, thunder shakes the windows again.

You shift slightly, closer.

His gaze lowers to your lips, then back to your eyes.

You tell yourself to stop looking at him… you fail.

“You should sleep.” he says quietly.

“That sounds like a warning.”

“Maybe.”

You breathe out slowly “And if I don’t?”

His eyes darken slightly “Then you’ll keep looking at me like that?”

Your heart skips “Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking too much.”

You almost laugh “That’s rich coming from you.”

He leans slightly closer “Am I wrong?”

You don't answer… because no, he isn’t.

The space between you feels smaller now.

His hand shifts slowly, until his fingers brush yours lightly.

Your breath catches and he notices, but his hand stays there.

Your fingers curl slightly against his.

Crocodile’s eyes stay on yours.

Slowly he lifts his hand and his fingers brush lightly along your jaw.

Your skin burns instantly.

You close your eyes for half a second, that small touch feels dangerous but still too soft for someone like him.

When you open your eyes again, he is closer, enough to feel his breath.

“You should stop me.” he says quietly.

Your stomach tightens “You first.”

Then suddenly his hand slides behind your neck and his mouth meets yours.

The kiss is slow at first… testing.

But it doesn’t stay like that.

His hand tightens slightly, pulling you closer.

You feel the heat of him immediately… and that taste of smoke and whiskey.

Your fingers grab lightly at his shirt.

He exhales softly against your lips, a sound that sends warmth down your spine.

The kiss deepens.

Your body shifts closer without thinking and your leg brushes his.

The mattress moves beneath you.

His hand slides slowly down your side, possessive without force.

You feel his thumb brush your waist, then your hip.

Your breath catches.

When he pulls back slightly, both of you breathe harder.

“You’re trouble.” you whisper.

A faint smile touches the corner of his mouth “And yet you’re still here.”

You smile softly “Bad decisions are made sometimes.”

“Clearly.”

His hand remains against your waist.

You don't move away, instead, you lean closer again until your lips brush his to start another kiss.

Slower this time but more dangerous somehow.

His fingers slide through your hair.

Now nothing exists except this room, this bed and the heat between you.

Eventually, you pull back. Your forehead rests against his shoulder.

His hand remains at your back.

Your fingers rest lightly against his chest.

“You know,” you murmur, “sharing a bed was a terrible idea.”

A low hum leaves him “Yes.”

“But I’m not complaining.”

His hand moves once along your back “You would complain eventually.”

You smile against him “Probably.”

Then he asks “So… we’re done?”

That makes you relax and laugh softly “Nah.”

Then you suddenly move and climb on him. You smile at his little surprised face, even if it lasts for a second.

You lift your shirt while his hand tightens slightly around your waist.

That marks the start of the best night of your life. 

── .✦ Kid:

tags: wano arc, slow burn, forced proximity, hidden feelings, protective kid, tension

The hideout is terrible.

You stop at the doorway and stare. It's just one room, one lamp, one tiny kitchen corner and one bedroom with one bed.

You slowly turn toward Kid “This is it?”

He walks inside like nothing is wrong “It has walls. Good enough.”

“That’s your standard?”

“It should be yours too.”

You shut the door behind you.

Outside, Wano.

Killer went another direction hours ago. You and Kid had to split from him.

Which means you are stuck here now.

You drop your bag near the wall.

The room smells faintly like dust and old wood.

Kid removes his coat and throws it over a chair.

You sit carefully on the edge of the bed and the mattress creaks.

You look up.

“Please tell me there’s another secret room somewhere.”

“No.”

“Another mattress?”

“No.”

“A couch?”

“No.”

You glance around again, just to confirm he’s right.

The room is too small.

Kid notices you looking around and says “I’ll take the floor.”

You blink “No.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re huge.”

He gives you a look “That sounded rude.”

“It was honest.”

He snorts softly, then shrugs “Still taking it.”

You shake your head “Your back will break.”

“I’ve slept on metal.”

“And that explains your personality.”

Kid looks toward you “Watch your mouth.”

You grin slightly “Or what Captain?”

He steps closer “You’re brave tonight.”

“I’m always brave.”

“You’re always annoying.”

You smile wider “And yet you keep me around.”

He rolls his eyes “Unfortunately.”

You pat the bed beside you “We can both sleep here.”

Kid immediately looks at the mattress, then at you “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s small.”

“There’s no space anywhere else for your giant body.”

He scoffs.

“You calling me fat?”

“No. Just built like a wall.”

“That’s still insulting.”

“You survive.”

Kid folds his arms “I’m not crushing you in my sleep.”

“You think you move around?”

“I know I do.”

You shrug “I move too.”

“That’s your argument?”

“Yes.”

He looks unconvinced.

You sigh dramatically “Kid.”

“What.”

“We’re hiding in Wano. We could die tomorrow.”

He goes quiet.

You continue softer “We should sleep properly while we can.”

Kid watches you. His expression unreadable. Then he clicks his tongue “You always say things like that.”

“Like what?”

“Things that make arguing with you annoying.”

You grin “So I win.”

“You’re confident.”

“I’m right.”

He stares a moment longer then finally “Fine.”

You smile to yourself and Kid notices “Don’t look proud.”

“I am proud.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“You agreed.”

“I gave up.”

“Same thing.”

He mutters something under his breath and you laugh quietly.

Night comes slowly.

You lie near the wall and Kid lies beside you.

You immediately feel how close he is. Shoulder almost touching.

The room suddenly feels even smaller.

You stare at the ceiling.

“You awake?” you whisper.

“Yes.”

“You sound annoyed.”

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“You’re failing.”

“So are you.”

You smile slightly “Fair.”

Silence returns.

You turn onto your side, facing away.

The blanket shifts and the mattress moves.

Kid exhales quietly “You're taking all the blanket.”

“You take too much space.”

“You wanted this.”

“You’re loud.”

He snorts softly, making you blink in surprise “You laughed?”

“No.”

“You absolutely did.”

“Go to sleep, you're starting to imagine things.”

You smile into the pillow.

Wind taps lightly against the windows and the room becomes colder.

You pull the blanket higher but you're still cold.

You shift slightly closer without thinking and… just for warmth, just because the room is freezing.

Your shoulder brushes his arm.

Kid stays still.

You slowly glance back and he’s already looking at you.

The room feels quiet again.

“You cold?” he asks.

You hesitate “...A little.”

He says nothing, then he slowly lifts part of the blanket higher and toward you, without a word.

You blink “Thanks.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

You smile faintly.

You settle closer under the blanket and your arm brushes his again.

Kid stares at the ceiling again but his hand stays closer now, near yours.

A soft rain keeps falling, soft against the roof.

You lie still beneath the blanket, too awake to sleep and obviously too aware of how close  he's beside you.

His shoulder brushes yours every time either of you moves.

You glance toward him and he's still staring at the ceiling, wide awake.

“You’re unusually quiet…” you whisper.

He grunts softly “So?”

“So it’s weird.”

“I don’t talk when I’m tired.”

“You talk loudly when you’re tired.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You absolutely do.”

Kid shifts slightly “You complain too much.”

You smile “You’re proving my point.”

He says nothing and that alone feels super strange.

You turn slightly onto your side but facing him now.

The dim light from outside barely reaches the room but enough to barely see him, with his sharp features, the scar near his eye and the tired look on his face.

“You’re really… really too quiet.” you repeat.

Kid glances toward you “What do you want me to do? Start yelling?”

“Maybe.”

“Tch.”

You smile softly as the silence comes back but this one feels different… more comfortable.

You watch the rain through the small window.

Then another thought slips out before you can stop it “Have you ever slept like this with someone?”

The second the words leave your mouth you freeze and your eyes widen “Oh my god.”

Kid looks at you.

You immediately sit up slightly “That sounded wrong.”

He raises a brow.

“I didn’t mean—” you rub your face “No, wait, that sounds worse.”

“You panic fast.”

“Because that sounded weird.”

“You always ask weird questions anyway.”

“I know.” you groan quietly “I meant sharing a bed. Like this. Sleeping. Just… just sleeping.”

You feel heat rise to your face and refuse to look at him. You stare at the blanket instead “Forget it.”

The room stays quiet way longer than expected.

You slowly glance up.

Kid is still looking at you, but he isn't laughing or teasing or smirking.

He watches you with a serious face. Then he finally answers “No.”

You blink.

His voice is quieter than ever.

“No.” he repeats.

Something about that answer makes your chest feel strange.

You start thinking and noticing the weird softness in him. Not in words… never in words with him. But in the small things, like the way he offered to sleep on the floor first, the blanket he pulled higher toward you, the way he never moved away.

It surprises you.

You relax back into the pillow “You’re different when nobody’s around.”

Kid looks back at the ceiling “Don’t say weird things.”

“It’s true.”

“You talk too much.”

You smile faintly “You don’t deny it.”

He clicks his tongue softly.

The room slowly grows quieter and your eyes become heavier.

You yawn softly and Kid glances toward you “Tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Finally.”

You close your eyes “You sound relieved.”

“I am.”

“Rude.”

“You'll survive.”

You smile weakly with your eyes closed and slowly you drift asleep.

Morning comes gently with soft light through the windows.

You stay half asleep for a moment, feeling weirdly safe and protected.

Then slowly, you realize something, so you fastly open your eyes and freeze.

Your face rests against Kid’s chest while his arm is wrapped around your waist.

Your leg tangled slightly with his.

You stare and your brain stops working completely.

You slowly lift your head and see that Kid is still asleep. His face looks softer now, less sharp.

You stay still even though you should move.

But instead you just look at him, because somehow this feels right.

The reason you slept so well is him.

His arm tightens slightly, making you freeze again.

Then his eyes slowly open. He still looks sleepy and unfocused.

He blinks once and then he notices you, the position and the closeness.

You wait for his teasing, for his sarcasm, for his annoyance.

Instead… he just looks at you quietly.

Neither of you moves and neither of you says anything.

You realize your hand rests against his chest and that you can feel his heartbeat.

Kid glances down briefly, then back to your face.

“You drool in your sleep.” he mutters.

You stare “You ruined the moment.”

“There was a moment?”

“Obviously.”

“Tch.”

You narrow your eyes “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you’re still here.”

You don’t answer because you don't need to.

And slowly without thinking too much, you lean closer.

Kid stays still watching and waiting.

Your forehead brushes his first, then your lips meet, softly and carefully.

Different from what you expected.

Kid’s hand moves slowly against your back and the kiss deepens slightly.

When you pull back slightly you stay close and still wrapped together, warm.

Kid looks at you quietly then he mutters “You think too much.”

You smile softly “And you pretend not to.”

Usopp and Luffy are yelling somewhere above deck. Nami is complaining about something being broken. Chopper laughs so hard you can hear it through the walls.

And you stand in the kitchen trying to hold a plate without dropping it.

Your fingers shake… again.

You tighten your grip, jaw clenching “Careful, love.”

A warm hand slides under yours before the plate slips. Sanji takes it easily.

You immediately pull your hand back “I had it.”

“Mhm.” He smiles softly “And I’m the Pirate King.”

You huff quietly.

He places the plate down and turns back to the stove. The kitchen smells warm. Garlic, butter, something sweet baking in the oven.

Usually the smell makes you happy.

Today it only makes your chest hurt.

“I can still help…” you mumble.

“You are helping.”

“I barely cut two carrots.”

“That’s still helping.”

You look down at your hands.

Your fingertips are numb again. That strange heavy feeling like your hands are asleep and aching at the same time.

You flex them and pain shoots through your wrists.

You hide it quickly but Sanji notices everything. His eyes flick toward you for one second.

“You should sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart…”

“I said I’m fine.”

Silence.

Only the sound of oil sizzling in the pan.

You hate that tone in your own voice… sharp and angry, but not at him, never at him, mostly at yourself.

Sanji says nothing after that. He just moves around the kitchen calmly, cigarette hanging from his lips while he cooks for the crew like always.

Perfect movements.

Your eyes stay on his hands… strong hands. Fast hands. Hands that work.

You swallow hard.

“I can wash the dishes at least.” you say.

“You washed them yesterday.”

“And dropped three.”

“You dropped one.”

“It still broke.”

“So?” He shrugs “Franky breaks half the ship every week.”

“That’s not the same…”

He glances at you again and you look away first.

You move toward the sink before he can stop you. The plates are already stacked there.

You can do easy.

You grab the sponge, but the moment you squeeze it, pain burns through your palm so suddenly your breath catches.

The sponge slips right out of your hand.

Splash.

Water everywhere.

“Ah—shit.”

You try to grab it quickly, but your fingers refuse to close properly. The plate beside it tilts dangerously.

Sanji catches it before it falls, of course he does.

And suddenly your eyes burn.

“I’m sorry…” you whisper.

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I can’t even do dishes right.” your voice cracks embarrassingly at the end.

You turn away fast.

Stupid.

You hate crying about this.

You hate the pity even more.

But Sanji doesn’t sound pitiful when he speaks… he sounds serious “Look at me.”

You don’t.

A chair scrapes softly against the floor.

Then he’s in front of you, looking at you carefully “Look at me, love.”

Slowly, you do.

His brows are slightly furrowed “You think I care about dishes?”

“No, but—”

“You think I want you here because you can scrub pans?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then tell me what you mean.”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out, because the truth feels ugly.

Sanji waits patiently anyway.

Your throat tightens.

“I just…” you stare at the floor “Everyone does so much.”

“Hmm.”

“Luffy fights sea monsters like it’s nothing. Zoro trains until he bleeds. Nami handles navigation alone during storms. Usopp builds things. Franky fixes everything. Robin knows everything. Chopper is our doctor.”

You laugh weakly.

“And I can barely hold a knife some days.”

The kitchen goes quiet.

You expect him to answer immediately, but he actually doesn’t. He just moves closer and very gently, he takes your hands.

Even though you try to hide how stiff they are, his thumbs rub over your knuckles carefully.

“Does it hurt right now?” he asks softly.

You hesitate “…Yes.”

“Numb too?”

You nod.

“Since this morning?”

“Since yesterday.”

“And you still tried to help me cook breakfast.”

You shrug helplessly “I wanted to do something useful.”

Something flashes across his face, not anger at you, but something sadder “Oh, sweetheart.”

The nickname almost breaks you.

You look away again.

“I know everyone says it’s okay,” you whisper “but it doesn’t feel okay.”

Sanji stays quiet for a second, then he suddenly pulls you gently against his chest.

One hand cradles the back of your head while the other rubs your back slowly.

“You listen to me now.” he says quietly.

His voice is low and firm in that rare way he gets when he means every word.

“You’re part of this crew.”

You grip his shirt weakly.

“You hear me?”

“…Yeah.”

“No. Really hear me.” He leans back enough to look at you “You think being useful is the reason we love you?”

Your eyes widen slightly “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You fall silent.

Sanji sighs softly “When Chopper gets sick, do we throw him overboard because he can’t work?”

“No.”

“When Zoro is half dead after a fight, do we tell him he’s lazy?”

“Of course not.”

“When Luffy can’t move after doing something stupid?”

“That happens every week.”

Sanji snorts quietly “Exactly.”

Despite yourself, a tiny laugh escapes you.

“There it is.” he murmurs.

Your face warms.

He brushes his thumb under your eye.

“You’re hurting,” he says simply “that’s not failure.”

“But I make things harder.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I can’t even help in fights.”

“And?” His brows pull together again “Do you think your only value is fighting?”

You hesitate “A little…”

“Absolutely not.” he says it immediately, strongly “You make this place softer.”

Your breath catches.

Sanji continues before you can answer.

“You stay with Chopper when he studies too late. You listen to Usopp’s stories even when they’re terrible lies.” he smiles faintly “You help Robin find books. You calm Luffy down sometimes, which is honestly a miracle.”

You blink rapidly.

“And me?” he says quietly “You help me too.”

“How?”

He gives you a look like the answer is obvious “You sit with me during late nights in the kitchen.”

Your chest aches.

“You taste every new recipe.”

“You cook those for everyone.”

“I still want your opinion.”

His fingers squeeze yours carefully “You remind me to rest.”

“You never rest.”

“Exactly. Someone has to tell me.”

Another tiny laugh escapes you.

Sanji smiles softly at the sound.

Then he lifts one of your hands carefully to his lips and kisses your knuckles, slowly, like your hands are something precious.

Not broken or useless.

“You do enough.” he whispers.

The words hit harder than you expect, because part of you still doesn’t believe them.

And maybe he sees that, because he suddenly tilts your chin upward gently.

“And even if you did nothing,” he says, “even if all you could do was sit here and breathe beside me, I would still want you here.”

Your eyes sting again immediately “Sanji…”

“I mean it.” his forehead rests against yours now “You don’t have to earn your place every single day.”

The tears finally spill over.

You hide your face against his chest with a frustrated sound.

“Ah, don’t cry…” he murmurs immediately, holding you tighter “Now I’ll cry too and the others will never let me live it down.”

You laugh weakly through tears.

“There you are.”

His hand rubs your back slowly.

After a while, your breathing finally calms.

“…I still hate it.” you admit quietly.

“I know.”

“I hate needing help.”

“I know that too.”

“And I hate feeling weak.”

Sanji hums thoughtfully. Then he gently pulls back just enough to look at you “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you’re strong as hell.”

You immediately shake your head “No.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t even—”

“Love.” His voice softens again “You wake up hurting and still try every day.”

You go still.

“That sounds strong to me.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

Maybe because nobody ever says it like that.

Sanji smiles a little.

“Now.” He wipes under your eyes gently “Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not the doctor.”

“Temporary doctor’s orders.”

You snort.

“You sit right there.” he says pointing toward the small chair near the kitchen window.

“And what are you doing?”

“Cooking.”

“I should help.”

“You should rest.”

“But—”

He gives you a look… not angry, just stubborn. Very Sanji.

You sigh dramatically and sit down.

“Good.” He smiles again finally, softer now “That’s my sweetheart.”

You watch him move around the kitchen again.

Comfortable.

After a minute, he speaks without turning around “Can you do something for me though?”

Your shoulders tense immediately “What?”

“Tell me if the sauce needs more salt.”

You blink “That’s it?”

“That’s a very important job.”

A small smile pulls at your mouth.

Sanji glances over his shoulder and catches it immediately “There’s the smile I like.”

He brings over the spoon carefully.

You taste the sauce. Warm. Rich. A little spicy.

“It needs more pepper.”

Sanji gasps dramatically “Perfect. I trained you well.”

He bends over and leaves a soft kiss on your lips before moving back to the kitchen.

You laugh again, more real this time.

And somehow, sitting there while he cooks beside you, the guilt feels quieter.

Not gone maybe, but quieter.

Sanji notices that too as he smiles softly to himself before turning back to the stove.

“See?” he says gently, winking at you “Always helping the chef.”

── .✦ Zoro:

tags: established relationship, comfort, chronic pain, emotional support, soft zoro, insecurity, hurt/comfort

The Sunny rocks softly under the afternoon sun.

You grip the broom tighter.

Bad idea.

Pain shoots through your fingers immediately. Your hands feel numb in some places, burning in others. You try to ignore it and keep sweeping.

“You missed a spot.”

You look up and see Nami pointing near the stairs with her pen.

“Oh—yeah. Thank you.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile quickly “Just tired.”

She watches you for a second longer before walking away.

The second she leaves, you shake your hands behind your back.

It hurts.

Again…

Later, everyone eats lunch together.

Luffy is stealing meat from everyone’s plates.

Sanji is yelling “LUFFY! STOP TOUCHING THE FOOD!”

“I’m hungry!”

“You already ate three plates!”

“I’m still hungry!”

Basically the usual.

Across the table, Zoro drinks quietly.

You glance at him and he notices immediately.

He watches you with a questioning expression on his face and says “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m thinking.”

“That face means trouble.”

You laugh softly, making him smirk.

Then his eye move lower to your hands.

You pull them under the table immediately, which makes his expression change a little.

That evening, you find him training on deck. Weights. Swords. Sweat.

Normal Zoro things.

You stand nearby awkwardly “Can I train with you?”

He pauses “You trained yesterday.”

“I know.”

“And the day before.”

“I know.”

“And you could barely hold the practice sword after.”

You force a laugh “I’ll get better.”

He studies you carefully “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Big lie… but you hate saying no. You hate sitting around while everyone works.

Everyone has something.

Nami navigates.

Sanji cooks.

Usopp fixes things.

Chopper heals people.

Robin researches.

Franky builds.

Brook plays music.

Jinbe steers.

Zoro fights.

And you… you struggle to even hold a mop some days.

So you keep trying, even when your hands shake, even when your fingers go numb, and even when you wake up at night because pain crawls up your wrists.

You keep trying because if you stop, what are you useful for?

“Again.” Zoro blocks your attack easily.

Your wrists hurt already.

You tighten your grip at your best and then swing again.

He blocks again “You’re too tense.”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that every five minutes.”

“I am fine.”

Your fingers suddenly lose strength and the sword slips.

You freeze.

Your hand tingles painfully.

Zoro looks down at the fallen sword, then at you.

You quickly bend down to grab it, but pain shoots through your wrist so hard you suck in a breath.

But he already heard that “You’re hurt.”

“No.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You’re terrible at lying.”

“I said I’m fine!”

Your voice comes out sharper than you mean.

The deck goes quiet, even the wind feels still.

Zoro stares at you, then he sighs “Come sit.”

“I don’t need—”

“Sit.”

You hate how weirdly gentle his voice sounds… it makes your chest hurt.

You sit down near the railing while he puts the practice swords away.

For a while, neither of you talks.

Then he sits beside you.

“You’ve been hiding it.”

You stare at the ocean “Hiding what?”

“The pain.”

You shrug “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to you.”

You laugh weakly “Not really.”

“You can barely hold things some days.”

Your throat tightens.

“I can still do stuff.”

“I know.”

“I just…” You swallow hard “I’m slower.”

Zoro says nothing.

“And everyone else does so much…” you continue quietly “I can’t even finish basic chores without messing up.”

“You don’t mess up.”

“I do…”

“You don’t.”

“I do.” you repeat, louder this time “I can’t scrub the deck long enough. I drop things. My hands stop working in fights. Sometimes they go numb for hours.” your voice shakes “I’m supposed to help the crew.”

“You do help.”

“How?”

The question comes out too fast and too honest.

You immediately regret it, but Zoro doesn’t get angry.

He leans back against the railing “You think helping only means fighting and chores?”

“I mean… yeah? In a pirate crew, yeah.”

“That’s stupid.”

You blink “That’s rude.”

“It’s true.”

You glare at him weakly.

He continues anyway “When Chopper patches us up after the smallest cut, is that useless?”

“No.”

“When Brook plays music or makes you all laugh after bad days?”

“No.”

“When Luffy drags us into trouble and somehow makes people free?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

You open your mouth and close it again.

Zoro looks toward the sea “You stay awake with people when they can’t sleep.”

You blink.

“You listen when someone’s upset.”

You stare at him.

“You remember small things.” he says “Like how Chopper likes compliments. Or how Usopp gets nervous before fights and what calms him down.”

Heat rises to your face and say “That’s not important.”

“It is.”

“It’s not enough.”

Zoro goes quiet for a moment, then suddenly snorts “You know? I don’t like using him as an example, but even the weird eyebrows man never uses his hands to fight.”

You stare at him “…Sanji?”

“Unfortunately.”

A small laugh escapes you.

Zoro points at your hands “There are other ways to fight.”

“I can’t exactly kick like him.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But—”

“Even I use my mouth for a sword.”

You blink again “That… sounds weird when you say it out loud.”

“It works, doesn’t it?”

You laugh despite yourself.

“There’s more than one way to help people. More than one way to fight.” He looks directly at you now “You keep trying to force yourself into something that hurts you.”

Your eyes sting suddenly “I just don’t want to be dead weight.”

His expression hardens immediately “You are not dead weight.”

The words come fast, strong and certain.

“You hear me?”

You look away quickly.

“You belong here.” he says quietly now “With us. With… me.”

Your chest aches painfully, in that overwhelming kind of way that isn't always bad.

“You noticed all that?” you ask softly.

“Obviously.”

“I thought I hid it well.”

“You hide it terribly.”

You groan “Great.”

“You flex your fingers every ten seconds.”

“…Oh.”

“And you make this face.”

“What face?”

“This one.” he copies your annoyed expression badly.

You stare at him “That looks nothing like me.”

“It does.”

“You look constipated.”

“Tch.”

Now, that makes you finally laugh… a real laugh this time.

Zoro watches you carefully afterward, like he’s checking if the sadness is still there.

And it is, but lighter now.

“You really think there are other ways?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah.”

“What if I still can’t do enough?”

“You don’t decide that alone.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the crew already wants you here.”

Your eyes widen slightly.

“And I want you here…” he adds.

The softness in his voice nearly kills you but his red ears are so cute.

You stare at him for a long moment, then suddenly lean forward and kiss him.

Zoro makes a surprised sound against your lips.

Then one hand moves carefully to your waist, pulling you closer in a gentle push. Always gentler than people expect from him.

The kiss is warm and slow, feeling close and safe.

When you pull back, your face feels hot.

“That was a thank you.” you mumble.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“You can thank me again if you want.”

You snort loudly “There’s the idiot swordsman again.”

“And there’s the smiley you.”

You lean against his shoulder.

Finally, you don't feel guilty about all this.

── .✦ Buggy:

tags: established relationship, chronic pain, insecurity, comfort, subtle care, emotional hurt/comfort

The ship rocks hard under your feet as someone on deck is screaming again.

“WHO TOOK MY FUCKING CAPE?!”

You close your eyes “…There he is.”

One of the crew points quickly “Captain Buggy, Mohji used it to cover the cannon!”

“WHAT?!”

You hear stomping, loud crashing and then a man screaming in fear.

Then Buggy’s voice again “YOU USED MY CAPE FOR A CANNON?! ARE YOU INSANE?!”

You smile a little despite yourself, because your hands ache badly, today too.

The numbness started this morning before sunrise and it crawled from your fingertips to your wrists until even holding a spoon felt strange… like your hands belonged to someone else.

You flex your fingers slowly, pain shoots up your arm “…Ow.”

You hide the sound quickly.

You still have work.

Everyone on this ship works.

Even if Buggy acts dramatic and lazy sometimes, the crew still moves because people do their jobs.

You want to do yours too.

You grab the rope beside you and start tying down the supply crates before the weather gets worse.

Your fingers slip immediately “Damn it.”

You try again but the knot comes loose.

You try again and again and again.

Your jaw tightens “Come on…”

You can fight through pain, usually… but numbness is worse. It makes your hands stupid.

You try pulling harder.

A sharp sting suddenly burns through your palm and your fingers give out completely. The rope falls.

“Shit—”

“Why are you doing that?”

You jump.

Buggy stands behind you with his arms crossed.

“You’re gonna tie the crates like that?” he asks.

“I can do it.”

“Yeah? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re fighting a rope and losing.”

“I said I can do it.”

Buggy narrows his eyes.

You hate that look… that careful one. The one that says he noticed something is off.

“I’m fine.” you add quickly.

“Uh-huh.”

“I am.”

“Sure.”

You glare “Why are you even here?”

“Because this is my ship.”

“You were screaming about your cape two seconds ago.”

“That’s different. That was important.”

You snort softly.

Buggy walks closer and grabs the rope from your hands and says “I’ve got it.”

“No, give it back.”

“Why?”

“Because I should help.”

“You are helping.”

“How?”

“You’re standing there looking pretty and keeping morale up.”

“That’s not real work.”

Buggy starts tying the knot quickly “Well, good thing I, the captain, didn’t ask.”

You cross your arms.

The ache in your hands pulses harder now from trying too much.

Buggy notices you rubbing your fingers, but he says nothing, and for you, that somehow feels worse.

Later, the crew gathers for lunch.

You sit beside Buggy while everyone argues over portions.

Cabaji points across the table “Captain, they’re taking extra meat again!”

“I CAN SEE THAT!”

“It was one piece!” someone shouts.

“THAT’S STILL THEFT!”

You try picking up your cup but your fingers twitch halfway there and the cup slips.

Buggy catches it before it falls, fast.

Nobody else even notices.

“Careful,” he says loudly “you break my cups, you buy new ones.”

You stare at him “…Thanks.”

“Tch. Don’t get emotional.”

He pushes the cup back toward you more carefully this time.

Under the table, his foot bumps yours once, soft, as if he’s checking you’re okay.

You look down quickly before anyone sees your face.

That night, the pain gets worse.

Rain hits the ship hard. Wind screams outside your room.

You sit on the edge of the bed trying to wrap your wrists tighter. Maybe if you press hard enough, your hands will listen again.

You hiss quietly.

The door opens.

Buggy walks in carrying a plate “What are you doing sitting in the dark like some tragic widow?”

You blink “What?”

“I brought food.”

“I can see that.”

“Well don’t sound too grateful.”

He puts the plate beside you.

You stare at it “…I wasn’t hungry.”

“Yeah, because pain does that.” he shrugs “Eat anyway.”

You freeze.

Buggy starts taking off his coat like he said nothing strange.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I know.”

Silence fills the room for a moment except for the storm outside.

You look down at your hands again “I hate this.”

Buggy pauses “Hate what?”

“This.” You flex your fingers weakly “I can’t do basic things some days.”

“So?”

“So I’m supposed to help!”

“You do help.”

“How? I can barely hold a cup lately.”

Buggy scoffs loudly “Please. Half my crew can barely hold conversations.”

“That’s not the point.”

You stand suddenly and start pacing “I can’t fight right. I drop things. I mess up knots. I slow people down—”

“You don’t slow me down.”

“You help me constantly!”

“Oh no.” Buggy says flatly “How horrible. Helping my partner. Truly devastating.”

“Buggy.”

“What?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

You stop moving.

He looks at you. No jokes. No yelling. Just sharp eyes watching carefully.

“You think I keep you around because you can fight?” he asks.

“I mean… it helped.”

“That’s stupid.”

You blink.

Buggy points at you dramatically “You think I, the great Captain Buggy, only values people for strength? Look at my crew! Half these idiots eat soap if nobody stops them!”

A crash sounds outside.

Someone yells, “IT WASN’T SOAP!”

Buggy shouts toward the door, “YES IT WAS!”

Then he looks back at you again as his voice lowers “You’re with me because I want you here.”

Your chest hurts suddenly, but different from before.

“You don’t get it,” you whisper “I feel useless.”

Buggy groans loudly like the conversation annoys him.

Then he walks over to say “You know what I think is useless?”

“What?”

“You sitting here hurting yourself because you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

You look away “I don’t want people treating me differently.”

“Good. Because they won’t.” Buggy crouches in front of you “But I will.”

You blink again “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he says slowly, “and please don’t make me repeat it, that I’ll help before you ask. And I’ll make it look natural so nobody bothers you about it.”

You stare “…You already do that.”

Buggy freezes for half a second, then immediately points at you “HAH! So you noticed!”

“You’re not subtle.”

“I’m extremely subtle.”

“You literally steal things from my hands when they hurt.”

“That’s called romance.”

Despite everything, you laugh, small and tired, but real.

Buggy watches your face carefully after the sound leaves you, like he missed hearing it.

“Tch.” he mutters “There it is.”

“What?”

“That annoying laugh.”

“You like my laugh.”

“I never said that.”

“You smile every time.”

“I do NOT.”

“You’re smiling right now.”

“I’m just naturally charming.”

You laugh again.

Buggy’s shoulders loosen slightly, then he grabs your wrists carefully.

“You’re warm.” he says.

“My hands always are when they hurt.”

“…Does it feel bad now?”

“A little.”

He rubs circles into your wrists with his thumbs, awkwardly. Like he refuses to admit he learned how to help properly.

“You don’t have to fix everything alone.” he mutters.

You look at him quietly and admit “For someone who screams all day, you say really nice things sometimes.”

“Don’t spread that around.”

“Your reputation?”

“Exactly.”

You smile softly.

Buggy notices immediately and squints at you suspiciously “What?”

“You’re being cute.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“It is.”

The storm outside gets louder, but inside the room, it feels strangely calm.

Buggy keeps rubbing your wrists.

You finally whisper, “I’m scared sometimes.”

He goes still “Of what?”

“That one day I won’t be able to do anything useful.”

Buggy clicks his tongue “Then you can sit next to me and insult people professionally.”

“That’s your job.”

“I can share… with you.”

You smile weakly.

“But really,” you say, quieter now, “what if I become a burden?”

Buggy’s expression changes immediately, sharp and obviously offended “Don’t say that.”

You blink at the sudden tone.

“I mean it.” he says “Don’t call yourself that.”

“…Sorry.”

“Tch.”

He stands up fast and pulls you with him.

Before you can react, his arms wrap around you tightly, not graceful and not elegant at all, just very Buggy style.

“You’re an idiot sometimes.” he mutters against your hair.

“You say that lovingly.”

“I say it truthfully.”

You relax slowly against him.

His chin rests on your head.

Outside, thunder cracks loudly.

Buggy squeezes you once more and then he pulls back enough to look at your face “You done being dramatic now?”

“You’re literally hugging me.”

“That’s unrelated.”

You snort softly.

His eyes flick down to your mouth for one quick second, then away immediately.

“…What?” you ask.

“Nothing.,,”

“You made a face.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

Buggy groans like this is exhausting, then suddenly grabs your jaw dramatically and say “Fine! Since you clearly require attention—”

He kisses you, fast at first, almost clumsy. Then softer when you lean closer. 

His gloves brush your cheeks carefully.

You melt a little against him.

Buggy huffs quietly into the kiss.

When he pulls away, his face is slightly red under the makeup.

“You better not get all emotional about that now.” he says immediately.

“Too late.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

You grin.

Buggy rolls his eyes dramatically, but he kisses your forehead anyway before pulling you back against his chest.

── .✦ Mihawk:

tags: established relationship, chronic pain, guilt, comfort, quiet intimacy, soft mihawk, domestic moments, emotional hurt/comfort

The knife slips from your fingers again.

It doesn't fall far, it falls onto the wooden table with a dull clack and your shoulders tense instantly.

You stare at your numb hand… again.

The feeling comes and goes every day. Sometimes it burns. Sometimes your fingers feel heavy like stone. Sometimes you cannot even tell if you're holding something until it drops.

Today is one of the bad days.

You flex your hand slowly “Damn it…”

Across the kitchen, Dracule Mihawk looks up from the book in his hand.

His eyes move from your face to the knife “You are pushing yourself again.”

“I’m fine.”

“You dropped it three times.”

You hate that he notices everything.

You grab the knife again before he can stand up “I said I’m fine.”

Mihawk closes his book with one quiet motion.

The sound alone makes you nervous.

Not because he's angry, Mihawk rarely raises his voice and that almost makes it worse somehow. His silence always sees too much.

He walks toward you slowly “Give me the knife.”

“I can still cut vegetables.”

“You can barely hold the handle.”

Your jaw tightens “I’m trying to help.”

“And I didn’t say otherwise.”

“But you’re doing everything lately.”

“That’s incorrect.”

“You know what I mean.”

Mihawk studies your face for a long moment, in a calm and sharp way “You're in pain today.”

You look away first “…It’s not worse than normal.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The numbness crawls higher into your wrist. You hate it and so you hate your own body. Hate the stupid weakness in your fingers. You used to fight beside him. Not at his level, obviously, nobody is at his level, but enough to stand proudly beside him.

Now even holding a teacup too long hurts.

You laugh quietly, bitterly “Some good partner I am.”

Mihawk’s expression changes slightly but enough that most people would miss it… you don’t.

“You think your worth depends on what you can carry with your hands?”

“It should depend on something.”

“It does.”

“Like what?”

“You're here.”

You blink “That’s not enough.”

“For you, maybe.”

“Mihawk…”

“You speak as though I chose you for labor.”

His voice stays even, deep and calm.

“But I can’t fight properly anymore.”

“You still can.”

“Not like before.”

“No,” he agrees immediately “not like before.”

The honesty hurts more than pity would.

You pull your hand back against your chest “See?”

Mihawk sighs softly through his nose.

“You continue to measure yourself against impossible standards.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

That actually earns the faintest look of amusement.

“Yes. Perhaps.”

You lean against the counter, exhausted already.

“I just…” You swallow hard “I hate needing help.”

“You have needed help since the day we met.”

The memory flashes immediately. You trying to hide shaking hands while wrapping a wound. Mihawk silently taking the bandages from you without a word. The first time he held a cup near your lips because your fingers stopped cooperating halfway through dinner.

He always knew. Always.

And somehow that makes the guilt worse.

“I thought maybe if I worked harder…” you mumble.

“To accomplish what?”

“To stop being a burden.”

Silence.

You shouldn't have said that.

Mihawk steps closer.

His voice lowers “Never say that about yourself again.”

The words are quiet, but firm enough to cut stone.

You stare at him.

“You think caring for you is a burden?”

“I mean—”

“You think I am forced into it?”

“No…”

“Then don't insult my choices.”

You look down quickly “…Sorry.”

Another silence.

Then you feel leather gloves brush lightly against your wrist.

Mihawk lifts your hand carefully, like he already knows exactly where it hurts.

“Where is the numbness?”

“Mostly fingers. Wrist too.”

“And pain?”

“Everywhere.”

“Hm.”

You almost laugh tiredly “Very helpful answer, I know.”

“It's accurate.”

His thumb presses lightly against your palm. Testing.

You flinch and his eyes narrow immediately and he asks “That bad?”

“It’ll pass.”

“You say that often.”

Because it usually does… sometimes.

You watch him remove his gloves one finger at a time before setting them aside.

Then he reaches for the kettle.

“I can still make tea myself.”

“I'm aware.”

“Then why are you—”

“Sit down.”

“…You sound like a doctor.”

“You would ignore one of those as well.”

You mutter something under your breath.

“I heard that.”

“I know.”

You finally sit at the table while Mihawk moves around the kitchen with smooth, easy motions. Precise and controlled like always.

He never rushes.

“You don’t get annoyed?” you ask quietly.

“At what?”

“At me struggling all the time.”

“No.”

“But doesn’t it get tiring?”

Mihawk pours hot water into a cup “Yes.”

Your chest sinks immediately.

Then he continues calmly “Pain is tiring. Watching someone you care for hurt is tiring. That doesn't mean I resent you.”

You stare at the table “I can’t even hold my sword properly some days.”

“You're grieving.”

The words hit harder than expected “What?”

“You speak as though you lost nothing.”

Mihawk sets the cup in front of you carefully.

“But you did.”

You look up slowly.

“You lost ease. Strength. Freedom. Certainty in your own body.” His gaze stays on you “Yet you expect yourself to feel nothing about it.”

Your throat tightens painfully.

Nobody says things like that to you.

Most people tell you to stay positive, to try harder or to be grateful it isn't worse.

Mihawk never lies to make things easier, and somehow that comforts you more.

“I’m tired…” you admit quietly.

“I know.”

“I hate feeling useless.”

“You aren't useless.”

“I can’t even help around the castle without messing up.”

“You help me every day.”

“How?”

“You listen.”

You blink.

“You stay.”

Another answer comes before you can speak.

“You make this place feel inhabited instead of empty.”

Your face warms immediately “Mihawk…”

“And,” he says calmly, “your presence discourages idiots from interrupting my evenings.”

You laugh despite yourself “There it is.”

“There what is?”

“The romantic talk.”

A faint smirk touches his mouth “Don’t become spoiled now.”

You wrap your hands carefully around the warm cup. Heat helps sometimes.

MMihawk watches your grip for a moment, then he asks“Have you practiced the stretches I showed you?”

“…Sometimes.”

“You forgot.”

“Maybe.”

“Hm.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I am.”

You groan softly “I knew you were going to say that.”

“You injure yourself further by ignoring limits.”

“I’m trying not to have limits.”

“That's foolish.”

You glare at him weakly “You’re supposed to encourage me.”

“I am encouraging you… to use your brain.”

You snort into your tea.

The room grows quieter after that, but a comfortable quiet. Rain taps lightly against the castle windows.

Mihawk sits across from you again with his wine.

You watch him for a while.

“How are you so patient with me?”

“I’m not patient.”

“You are with me.”

“That’s different.”

The answer comes too fast to be accidental.

Something soft pulls painfully in your chest.

You look at your hands again “They’re ugly lately.”

Mihawk immediately looks irritated “Your hands.”

“The swelling’s worse.”

“They’re hands.”

“You know what I mean.”

“They’re yours.”

He says it like that settles everything and maybe to him, it does.

You laugh quietly again “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you remain here.”

“Unfortunately.”

“How tragic.”

You smile into your tea.

Then the numbness suddenly spikes sharply through your fingers.

You hiss softly.

Mihawk is beside you immediately and says “Show me.”

“It’s fine.”

“Show me.”

You hold out your hand reluctantly.

He takes it carefully between both of his larger hands.

His thumbs move slowly across your knuckles, with a gentle pressure.

“You should rest.”

“I rested yesterday.”

“You rested poorly yesterday.”

“…You notice too much.”

“Yes.”

His fingers continue massaging your hand slowly and it kinda helps, but not enough to remove the pain completely. Nothing ever does. But at least it’s enough to loosen the tightness in your chest.

“You know,” you mumble, “most people would leave.”

Mihawk looks genuinely unimpressed “I’m not most people.”

“I know.”

“Then stop speaking as though I’m temporary.”

Your eyes sting unexpectedly.

That’s the problem with him. Mihawk doesn’t speak gently often, or at least not so obvious, but when he does, every word lands directly inside your ribs.

You look at him quietly. At the sharp golden eyes, at his calm face… at the man feared across entire seas sitting here massaging your aching hands without complaint.

“You really don’t mind?”

“No.”

“Even when I can’t do things?”

“Yes.”

“Even when I get frustrated?”

“I expect it.”

“Even when I’m difficult?”

One eyebrow lifts slightly “You’re frequently difficult.”

You gasp softly in fake offense.

“But yes.”

You shake your head with a tiny laugh.

“You’re terrible at comfort.”

“And yet you’re calmer now.”

“…Damn it.”

That tiny almost-smile appears again.

Victory.

You stare at him for another quiet moment before speaking softly.

“Thank you.”

Mihawk pauses, then he nods once “You don’t need to thank me for loving you.”

Your breath catches immediately, because he just said it so simply, like it’s a fact. No embarrassment and no hesitation, and that makes it feel even more real.

You stand slowly from the chair.

Mihawk watches you carefully in case your hands fail again.

But instead, you step closer until you are standing between his knees.

His gaze lifts toward you “What are you doing?”

“You said something nice.”

“A rare mistake.”

“So I’m rewarding you.”

“Hm.”

You place your hands lightly against his chest and he just lets you.

Then you lean down and kiss him softly and slowly.

Mihawk goes still for half a second before one hand settles against your waist.

His thumb brushes once against your side while he kisses you back with quiet restraint, controlled like everything else about him… but warm… always warmer than people expect.

When you pull back, he looks at you silently for a moment.

Then he says “You’re smiling.”

“You noticed?”

“I notice everything.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth quickly this time and tell him “That’s annoying.”

“And yet,” he murmurs, eyes softer now, “you continue to stay.”

── .✦ Law:

tags: established relationship, chronic pain, guilt, comfort, soft law, domestic moments, emotional hurt/comfort

Your hands hurt.

Not enough to stop functioning completely and not enough to count as an emergency. 

Just enough to make every small thing irritating and exhausting and humiliating if you think about it too long.

Today, unfortunately, you keep thinking about it.

You stand in the kitchen of the Polar Tang staring at the container in your hands, jaw tight as you try twisting the lid open again.

Nothing.

Your fingers slip as pain sparks through your wrist.

You grit your teeth and try again anyway, but the lid doesn’t move.

God, this is stupid.

Behind you, the crew is loud as usual… Shachi laughing too hard at his own joke, Penguin arguing back, Bepo trying unsuccessfully to calm them down before Law inevitably tells everyone to shut up.

Normal.

Everything feels normal except for you.

You finally force the lid open using the edge of the counter, but the motion sends a sharp ache through your palm that makes you hiss quietly.

And for some reason, the fact that something this easy has to become a whole ordeal every single time, makes your chest feel tight suddenly.

You set the container down harder than intended and stare at your hands.

The numbness comes in waves today. 

Fingertips tingling, grip weakening without warning, joints stiff and sore like your body is punishing you for existing in it.

You hate it and you hate that everyone else can move without thinking about it.

You hate that you have to calculate every little task.

You hate needing help.

Most of all, you hate that you’re used to it now.

“You’re glaring at the counter.”

Law’s voice makes you jump slightly.

You look over your shoulder.

He stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, expression unreadable beneath the brim of his hat.

“…I’m fine.” you say automatically.

“Hm.”

That hum means liar.

He watches you for another second before his eyes drop to your hands.

Your fingers curl instinctively.

Law notices that too, of course “You’re hurting.”

It isn’t a question.

You look away “It’s manageable.”

“That bad, then.”

“I said manageable.”

“And I said that’s bad.”

His voice stays calm, flat, irritatingly perceptive.

You exhale sharply through your nose and lean back against the counter “I’m just tired today.”

Law walks into the kitchen quietly, stopping in front of you “Tired physically or mentally?”

You laugh once without humor “Guess.”

His gaze stays on you long enough that your throat starts tightening.

You hate that he can read you this easily and you hate that part of you is relieved by it too.

“I can’t do anything right today.” you mutter finally.

“That’s not true.”

“I almost lost grip on my weapon yesterday.”

“You still hit your target.”

“Ikkaku had to finish maintenance for me.”

“Because your hands were locking up.”

“I can’t even open containers normally half the time…”

“So?”

The word catches you off guard.

You blink at him.

Law’s expression barely changes, but there’s something firmer in his tone now.

“So,” he repeats, “you adapt. Or someone helps you. That’s not a moral failure.”

“It feels like one.”

Silence settles heavily between you while the submarine hums around you softly.

You stare at your hands again.

“I just feel useless sometimes…” you admit quietly “everyone else contributes so much more than me.”

Law’s eyes narrow slightly “You think your value to this crew depends entirely on physical ability?”

“No, but—”

“No,” he interrupts flatly “you don’t get to ‘but’ your way out of this one.”

Despite yourself, your mouth twitches weakly.

Law steps closer.

“You help Bepo study navigation routes because he gets overwhelmed reading maps.” he says “You reorganized the medical storage because none of these idiots know how to put things back correctly. You stay up repairing clothes and equipment even when your hands hurt.”

“That’s small stuff.”

“It still matters.”

You swallow hard “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Law goes quiet, then he sighs softly through his nose and reaches for your hands “Give me these.”

You let him take them without protest.

His fingers are warm around yours, steady and careful as he turns your hands over in his grip. He presses gently along your palms and wrists, thumbs working against the sore muscles like he already knows exactly where it hurts most.

Because he does know… he always does.

“You’ve been overusing them.” he mutters.

“I know.”

“You compensate when they start going numb.” His thumbs press into the base of your palm, easing some of the ache immediately “That strains everything else.”

You watch his face while he works, focused and quiet. Slightly annoyed in the way he always gets when he cares too much about something.

“You notice everything.” you mumble.

“I’m a doctor and captain.”

“You’re nosy.”

“Hm.”

The corner of his mouth twitches faintly.

Your chest aches but not in a bad way.

You suddenly feel exhausted all over again.

“I hate this…” you whisper.

Law’s hands still for half a second “I know.”

The simple honesty in it almost breaks you.

No forced positivity and no pretending it’s easy. Just understanding.

Your eyes sting embarrassingly fast.

Law notices immediately, because of course he does.

“You’re thinking too much again.” he says quietly.

“I can’t help it.”

“You can.” his thumbs resume their slow movements against your hands “You just don’t know how to stop.”

You laugh weakly “Amazing diagnosis, doctor.”

“I’m very talented.”

That actually earns a real laugh from you this time, and there it is that tiny shift in his expression when he hears it, small enough most people would miss it entirely.

You don’t, you know Law too well for that.

Warmth blooms slowly in your chest, soft and aching and without thinking too hard about it, you step closer and reach up to grab his face.

Your fingers fumble slightly against his cheeks from the numbness.

Law lets you reposition your hands without a single complaint.

Then you kiss him right on the mouth, slow and warm.

He exhales softly through his nose, surprised for only a second before one hand slides automatically to your waist.

When you pull back, you kiss his cheek… then under his eye, then the corner of his jaw.

“You’re being weird.” he mutters.

“You’re nice to me.”

“I’m literally treating your symptoms.”

“You’re holding me.”

“That’s unrelated.”

You laugh quietly against his skin before kissing his forehead.

Law sighs like you are personally exhausting him, but his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

“You know,” you murmur between kisses, “you’re really bad at pretending you don’t like affection.”

“I don’t like affection.”

“Mhm, sure.”

You kiss his nose. Then beneath his lip. Then his temple.

Law’s ears start turning faintly pink beneath the brim of his hat.

Victory.

“You’re annoying.” he grumbles.

“But you love me.”

He goes silent for one fatal second too long, making you grin immediately.

“There it is.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

You kiss him again before he can argue further, softer this time, lingering long enough to feel the way he melts despite himself.

Law’s hand slides from your waist to the back of your neck, fingers warm against your skin.

When you pull away again, he rests his forehead lightly against yours with a quiet sigh.

“You done?” he asks.

“Not even close.”

He gives you a deeply unimpressed look that loses all effectiveness when you kiss both his cheeks in quick succession.

“You’re clingy now.”

“I’m having a bad day and you’re my cure.”

“Hm.”

That stupid soft hum again.

You smile a little and then you say softly “You know? You’re a good doctor and a good captain… but you’re also a perfect partner. I love you a lot.”

Law rubs his thumb slowly along the side of your neck while looking at you with that quiet, intense focus he gets sometimes, the one that always feels like he’s paying attention to every tiny detail about you at once.

“Then… for that, don’t forget you don’t have to prove you’re useful to deserve being here.” he says quietly.

Your chest tightens.

Even now, hearing that from him feels overwhelming.

You lean forward and kiss him one more time, gentler now.

Law lets you… of course he does.

Then, after a second, he presses a small kiss back against your mouth so quickly you almost think you imagined it.

“…Don’t look so smug.” he mutters immediately.

The Polar Tang is quiet tonight. Too quiet.

Law sits at his desk, writing notes about a patient. The lamp makes a small circle of light over his papers. Everything else is dark.

You sit on the bed behind him, hugging your knees. You watch his back. He has been silent for hours.

You bite your lip.

“Law,” you say softly “Are you mad at me?”

His pen stops. He looks over his shoulder, eyebrows pulling together “No. Why would I be mad?”

“You’re… quiet today,” you whisper “More than usual.”

Law sighs and turns back to his work “I’m working. That’s all.”

You nod, but something in your chest hurts. You stand up slowly and walk to him.

“Can I hug you?” you ask.

He pauses again “You always ask that.”

“Because… I don’t want to bother you.”

Law turns in his chair. His gold eyes look tired.

“You don’t bother me,” he says “Not unless I say so.”

You give a small smile “Can I, then?”

He nods once.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders. You lean your cheek against his hair. For a second he stays still… and then he lets out a long breath, relaxing slightly.

But only for a moment.

After a few seconds, he takes your hands and gently moves them off “Sorry. I need to finish this.”

And your heart drops.

“Oh,” you say “Right. Sorry. I’ll… I’ll just sit.”

You go back to the bed. You try to breathe normally, but your mind is loud.

He doesn’t want me close tonight. Maybe he’s tired of me. Maybe… maybe he’s pulling away.

Law keeps writing. The scratch of his pen feels sharp in the quiet room.

After a minute, he speaks “You’re upset.”

You freeze “No. I’m fine.”

“Liar.” he says without looking up.

Your throat tightens “I just… I don’t want to annoy you.”

“You’re not annoying.” his voice is flat, but honest. Law always means what he says.

You swallow “Then why do you push me away?”

He finally looks at you again, really looks.

“I’m not pushing you away,” he says “I’m trying to work.”

You stare at your hands “I know. I know, Law. It’s just… when you go quiet like this, I get scared.”

“Scared of what?”

You take a breath “That you don’t want me anymore.”

He blinks, like he didn’t expect that answer at all.

“Y/N,” he says slowly, “that makes no sense.”

Your voice cracks “It makes sense to me.”

He stands up. He walks to the bed. He sits beside you, not touching, but close enough that you feel his warmth.

“Look at me.” he says.

You do.

“I’m not leaving,” Law says “Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not unless you tell me to.”

Your eyes sting “But you always leave the room without saying anything. You stay silent for hours. I never know what you feel. I don’t know if you still want me.”

Law frowns deeply, thinking.

“That’s… not because of you. I just don’t talk much.” His voice is soft, almost awkward “I thought you understood that.”

“I do. But my brain won’t listen.”

He sighs “Then tell me. Don’t sit there hurting alone.”

You nod slowly.

He hesitates, then touches your hand, carefully.

“Come here.” he says, very quietly.

You lean into him, and he lets you. He even wraps an arm around your shoulders.

You had this same conversation many times. Law tells you he’s not leaving. You try to believe him.

But your brain… it never stops.

Every night, the same thoughts come back:

He’s losing interest. He doesn’t love me. I’m too much for him. One day he’ll get tired and walk away.

You know him. You know how he is. He’s not the kind of man who says “I love you” every minute. Not even every day.

He’s not one to hold your hand while walking around the ship. He’s not one to kiss you in front of the crew. He’s not one to hug you unless the room is empty.

He’s not clingy. He doesn’t like clinginess.

And that hurts even more.

Because you are clingy. And your brain keeps whispering that he hates that part of you.

Days pass.

Law gets busier with his captain work, doctor work, planning, training. He’s always moving. Always working. Always tired.

And of course, you start to feel… not wanted.

So you distance yourself.

Just a little at first.

You stop following him around. You stop asking for hugs. You stop waiting outside the infirmary. You stop touching him unless he touches you first.

The crew notices. Some look confused. Some whisper.

Law notices too, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t question it.

He actually thinks you finally understood him.

He thinks you realized he needs his space. He thinks you’re giving him room to focus on his work.

One evening, he enters your, basically shared, room. You’re lying on the bed with your back to him, pretending to read.

He stands at the door for a moment, watching you. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“You’re quiet lately…” he says.

You give a small, careful smile he can’t see “I’m just tired.”

Law nods like he accepts that. He thinks it’s normal.

He doesn’t realize he’s the reason you’re tired.

He sits at his desk and starts working. You stare at the wall, holding your breath so you don’t cry.

Minutes pass.

Then Law speaks again, voice flat but curious “You didn’t wait for me today.”

Your fingers tighten around the book.

“I didn’t want to bother you” you answer.

“You don’t bother me.” he says immediately.

But his tone is too calm. Too normal. No emotion.

It feels like he’s just saying it because he has to.

You turn a page without reading.

“I know,” you whisper “I’m just… giving you space.”

Law hums quietly, as if this makes sense to him.

“Okay… Good.” he says.

Your heart cracks.

You don’t respond. You can’t. Your throat hurts too much.

He goes back to writing, believing everything is fine. Believing you finally understand his position.

He has no idea you’re breaking apart right next to him.

You wake up early the next morning. Law is still asleep beside you, breathing slow and deep. His hair is messy, his eyes closed, his arm loose on the blankets, he looks peaceful.

You stare at him for a moment. Normally, you would kiss his forehead. Normally, you would stay there until he wakes up.

Not today.

You get up quietly, grab your clothes, and slip out of the room without making a sound.

A few of the crew are already eating. You force a small smile.

“Morning” you say.

“Good morning!” Bepo says, cheerful as always.

You sit with them and start eating. You try to focus on your plate, not your feelings.

It doesn’t last long.

Bepo tilts his head “Where’s Captain? You two usually eat together.”

Your stomach tightens.

“He’s sleeping.” you answer quickly, eyes on your food.

Penguin leans forward with a stupid smirk “OOOH, you tired him so much last night??”

Shachi elbows him “Penguin—”

You don’t laugh. You don’t even look at him.

“Yeah… no.” you say quietly.

Your voice is flat. Dead, almost.

The three of them freeze. They exchange a worried, confused and uncomfortable look. They can tell something is wrong.

You push your plate a little.

“So… do we reach the new island today?” you ask, trying to sound normal.

Bepo answers quickly, kind of pretending he doesn’t notice your mood “We already reached it! When Captain wakes up, we can go look around. It’s a big village. Looks nice!”

You nod “Thank you.”

You stand up and grab your finished plate.

“I’ll get off,” you say “I’ll go look around alone today.”

The three of them stop eating.

Penguin and Shachi stare at you with big, confused eyes. Bepo’s ears drop a little.

Shachi speaks first, voice soft “Are you sure? Why don’t you wait for us and go all together?”

You turn and give them a smile, or something that tries to be a smile.

“I just want some alone time” you say “Don’t worry. See you guys later.”

You walk away before they can say anything else.

Behind you, the crew exchange a silent glance.

They all think the same thing: Something is wrong and Law has no idea.

Law wakes up alone.

The bed is cold. Your side is empty. The room is quiet.

He slowly sits up, rubbing his eyes. You always wake him gently, or sit beside him, or at least move around the room.

He frowns, confused, but shrugs it off at first. Maybe you just woke up early. Maybe you’re with the crew.

He gets dressed and goes to the dining hall.

The moment Law steps in, the room goes stiff.

Bepo stops eating mid-bite. Penguin straightens his back like he’s being judged. Shachi just stares at his plate.

Law blinks “What’s wrong with you three?”

“N-Nothing, Captain!” Penguin squeaks.

Law narrows his eyes. He can always tell when his crew is hiding something.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks.

Bepo puffs his cheeks nervously “They, uh… already ate.”

Law waits for more.

Penguin slowly adds, “They, um… left.”

“Left?” Law repeats.

Shachi nods quickly “They went to look around the island.”

Law crosses his arms “Alone?”

Penguin gulps “Yes, Captain.”

Law’s face doesn’t move. No anger. No surprise.

Just… stillness.

But his eyes sharpen like knives.

“And none of you stopped them?” he asks.

“We tried!” Bepo says, ears dropping “They said they wanted some alone time.”

Law goes silent for a moment.

Bepo finally asks, “Did… something happen between you two?”

Law looks away, jaw tightening “No.”

But the way he says it isn’t convincing.

Then he asks, quietly but firmly “What did they look like?”

Penguin rubs the back of his neck “…Sad.”

“Really sad…” Shachi adds.

Bepo nods “They didn’t smile at all.”

Law closes his eyes for a second. A very, very small sigh escapes him “…I see.”

He turns to leave.

Bepo quickly stands “Captain—! Do you want us to go look for them?”

“No,” Law answers “I’ll go.”

Penguin hesitates “Captain… are you sure everything is okay?”

Law stops at the door but doesn’t look back “I thought things were okay,” he says softly “But it seems I was wrong.”

And with that, he walks out, coat swaying behind him, heading toward the island.

Not rushing. Not running. But moving with a purpose the crew almost never sees.

A purpose that says: I need to find them. Now.

The village is big, noisy, and full of people moving around, sellers yelling, children running, travelers talking loudly. The smell of food fills the air.

Law walks through the crowd, scanning every corner. His steps are fast, sharp, focused.

He checks the market. The docks. The small side streets.

Nothing.

His jaw tightens.

Where did they go?

He takes another turn, heading toward a quieter part of the village, away from the noise, away from the main road. A place someone would go to be alone.

And finally… he sees you, sitting on a small stone bench under a tree, staring at the ground. Your shoulders are tense, your body small and tired-looking. You’re not crying, but you look like you did earlier… or like you could at any second.

Law stops for a moment… just watching you.

You don’t see him.

He walks closer. His boots make a soft sound on the dirt, and you look up instantly.

Your eyes widen a little “…Law?”

He stands in front of you, hands in his pockets, trying to look calm, but his eyes are sharp and full of questions.

“I was looking for you” he says.

You look away “I just wanted some air.”

“On a new island? Alone?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

You shrug “I’m fine. You didn’t need to come.”

Law stares at you for a long second. Then he says quietly “You’re avoiding me.”

You swallow “No, I’m not.”

“Y/N” his voice is firmer now “Don’t lie to me.”

Your chest tightens.

“I’m not lying,” you try again “I just needed space. Isn’t that what you also want?”

Law frowns “…What?”

You exhale shakily and stand up, turning away from him.

“You want space, Law. You always want space,” you say softly “So I’m giving it to you.”

He takes a slow breath, then he says “That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” Your voice cracks “You don’t like clingy people. You don’t like being touched when you work. You don’t like PDA. You don’t like when I follow you. You don’t—”

“Stop.” Law steps forward.

You swallow again but keep talking, voice trembling “You don’t do any of those things, and that’s fine. That’s who you are. But every day I felt like I was bothering you more and more. And I kept thinking that maybe… maybe you were getting tired of me.”

Law freezes like your words hit him straight in the heart.

You laugh weakly and look away “Today I thought… maybe you’d be happier if I gave you space. Maybe you’d breathe easier without me.”

Law finally moves and grabs your wrist gently, not hard, but enough to make you look at him.

His voice is low and tense “Why would you think I breathe easier without you?”

You blink, surprised by the emotion in his voice.

He steps closer.

“You think I’m losing interest?” he asks “You think I don’t want you? That I’m about to leave?”

You look down “…Yes.”

He stares at you for a long moment.

Then he says something he almost never says, something raw and honest “Y/N, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you.”

Your breath catches.

“And I wouldn’t chase after you,” he adds, “if I planned to leave.”

Your heart stings again, but this time for a different reason.

You whisper, “Then why… why do you act like you don’t care?”

Law exhales, long and tired “…Because I don’t know how to act different.”

You stare at him.

He shakes his head slightly.

“I’m not good with words. I’m not good with affection. I’m not good with people being close.” He pauses “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

You feel your throat tighten.

“I thought you’d get tired of me…” you say softly.

“I’m not tired of you,” he answers “I’m tired of not understanding what you need.”

Your eyes widen.

Law looks down at your hand in his.

“Tell me what I’m missing,” he says quietly “I can’t fix what I don’t see.”

You look down at his hand holding your wrist. His touch is warm. Careful. Real.

You take a shaky breath.

“I fell for you because of who you are… how you are.” you say softly.

Law’s eyes lift to yours.

“I never wanted you to change,” you continue “I don’t want you to be someone else just because I have abandonment issues. That’s my problem. Not yours.”

Law’s brows tighten. He looks like he’s trying to understand every word you say, trying to read every tiny expression on your face.

“You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ every day,” you add “You don’t have to hold my hand in public. You don’t have to be clingy. I don’t want to force you into something you’re not.”

You look away, voice small “I’m scared of losing you. That’s all.”

Silence fills the air. Soft but heavy.

Law lets go of your wrist only to take your hand instead… slower, gentler, like he’s asking for permission.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m not trying to be someone else.”

You nod “I know.”

He studies your face, eyes sharp and serious.

Then he asks “Then what can I do for you to believe me, Y/N?”

Your heart stops. You stare at him. You’ve had so many conversations like this, but he has never said something like that… never this blunt, never this honest, never this open.

He looks… almost frustrated. But not with you. With himself.

Like he truly wants to understand. Like he truly wants to help.

You freeze, shocked.

“You… you really mean that?” you whisper.

“Yes,” he says immediately “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

Your mouth opens, then closes.

You think. And think. But the harder you try to find an answer, the more empty your mind feels.

“I don’t know…” you finally whisper.

Law blinks “…You don’t know?”

You shake your head slowly.

“I don’t know what I need. I just… get scared.” Your voice cracks again “I don’t know what would make me believe you won’t leave. Nothing feels enough when my brain tells me the worst.”

Law exhales, not annoyed, not angry. He seems almost… softer.

He steps closer, close enough that his coat brushes your leg.

“Then we figure it out.” he says.

You look up at him, eyes wide.

He continues, tone steady “I can’t read your mind. And you can’t read mine. So we talk. Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s confusing. Even when we don’t know what the hell we’re doing.”

Your chest tightens.

He holds your hand a little firmer, not letting go.

“And if you can’t tell me what you need,” he says, “then tell me how you feel. Start there.”

You swallow hard.

“Law…” you whisper.

He tilts his head slightly “Yes?”

You take a shaky breath.

“I feel scared every time you’re quiet,” you admit “I feel unwanted when you’re distant. I feel like I’m annoying you when I’m clingy. I feel like one day you’ll wake up and think you don’t want me anymore.”

Law stares at you, listening.

“…Okay” he says quietly.

You blink “O-Okay?”

“Yes. Okay.” He squeezes your hand “You tell me that. Every time it happens.”

Your eyes sting again.

“You won’t get tired of hearing it?” you ask.

“No,” he says “I’ll get tired of you hiding it.”

Your breath catches.

You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect him to be so… real.

Law takes a slow breath and adds “Just don’t walk away from me without telling me something is wrong. That’s all I ask.”

He looks at you for a long second. Then he looks away, jaw tense, ears turning red.

He lets out a small breath and says, quietly “For the record… I fell for you for who and how you are as well, Y/N.”

You blink, surprised.

He keeps staring at the ground, like the words are too embarrassing to say while looking at you.

“Don’t think that just because I look like I don’t enjoy PDA…” His voice drops even lower “…or you being clingy… that I actually don’t like it.”

Your heart jumps.

“…Law?” you whisper.

He turns even redder, ears burning.

“I said what I said.” he mumbles, refusing to look at you.

For a moment you don’t say anything. You’re too shocked and too touched.

You slowly reach out and place your arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

You expect him to stiffen, to pull back, to freeze like he always does when someone hugs him unexpectedly in public.

But this time… He doesn’t. He lets you.

You feel his body tense a little at first, like he’s surprised.

Then, slowly, you feel him relax under your arms.

His shoulders drop. His breathing evens out. His hand lifts hesitantly and rests on your back, fingers curling into your shirt.

“Y/N…” he says softly, almost whispering into your shoulder.

“Yes?” you ask, voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t think I hate the way you are.”

You close your eyes, holding him tighter.

“I won’t,” you whisper “Not anymore.”

You feel him exhale against your neck, a long breath he’s been holding for too long.

He leans just a bit closer enough to show you something important, that he trusts you.

And for Law, and for you, that means everything.

You stay in Law’s arms for a while, the world around you quiet.

Then you slowly pull back to look at him.

His face is red.

His eyes are avoiding yours.

But he doesn’t let go of you.

You smile softly “…You okay?”

He clears his throat “I’m fine.”

You’re still holding hands.

He notices.

You notice him noticing.

And you expect him to pull away like he always does in public.

But instead… he tightens his grip.

“Let’s go back to the ship,” he says “Together.”

Your heart feels warm, almost too warm.

“You want to walk like this?” you ask, raising your joined hands.

Law’s ears turn pink again.

He looks away “…Yes. Don’t make me repeat it.”

You giggle and he relaxes even more at the sound.

On the way back, he doesn’t talk much, but he keeps brushing his thumb over your hand.

Slow.

Gentle.

His way of saying: I’m here.

When you reach the ship, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin are standing outside like they’ve been waiting for hours.

Penguin’s eyes widen “Captain… is holding hands?”

Shachi elbows him hard “Shut up! Don’t scare them!”

Bepo’s face lights up “I’m glad you two are okay!”

Law glares at all of them “Don’t comment on things that are none of your business.”

But he still doesn’t drop your hand.

The crew exchange looks… happy, relieved looks, but say nothing else because they want to live.

You reach Law’s room and he lets you inside first and closes the door behind you.

Then he stands there, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You tilt your head “What is it?”

He looks like he’s trying to force words out of his mouth.

“I’m not good at… comforting” he admits “I don’t always know what to say.”

You smile gently “You're better than you think.”

He slowly walks closer.

Then he lifts a hand and touches your cheek carefully, almost like he’s scared to get it wrong.

“I’m trying.” he says.

Your heart melts instantly.

“I know,” you whisper, leaning into his touch “I can tell.”

Law looks at your lips for half a second, then immediately looks away like he didn’t.

You grin “You can kiss me, you know.”

His ears turn red again.

“I—I know that” he mutters.

You step closer, closing the distance “Then do it.”

He hesitates… then gently cups your chin and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

Not rushed.

Not messy.

Slow.

Warm.

Real.

When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

You press your forehead to his.

“…And I’ll try to trust that.” you whisper.

He nods once, firmly, his hand still on your cheek “That’s all I want.”

── .✦ Shanks:

tags: established relationship, avoidant attachment, hurt/comfort, fluff, teasing crew

words count: 2.8k

The deck is loud, between laughter, clinking bottles and someone shouting about food.

Shanks sits on a crate near the table, one arm hanging loose, a bottle in his hand. He looks relaxed, but he’s not.

You sit a few steps away from him, leaning against the railing, arms crossed. Close enough to hear him. Far enough to breathe.

Shanks looks at you and then at the empty space next to him.

He pouts.

“You know,” he says loudly, “there’s a very nice spot right here.”

You don’t move.

“I’m fine here.” you answer calmly.

He leans back, dramatic “Wow. Cold.”

Benn Beckman takes a slow drag from his cigarette “Y/N doesn’t like being glued to you, Captain.”

“I’m not glued,” Shanks argues “I’m just… emotionally attached.”

Yasopp laughs “You sound whiny again.”

“I am not whiny…” Shanks says immediately.

Lucky Roux grins “You are. Especially when they ignore you.”

You keep staring at the sea like none of this matters.

Shanks sighs loudly “You don’t even care, do you?”

You shrug “About what?”

“About me suffering,” he says, hand to his chest “Deeply.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Ouch.”

The crew laughs again.

Shanks gets up and walks closer to you, standing just a bit too near. You shift your weight to creating space.

He notices.

“…You always do that.” he says, quieter now.

“Do what?” you ask.

“Move away.”

You look at him for a second and then back at the sea.

“I like space.”

“Yeah,” he says softly “You really do.”

There’s no anger in his voice, just something sad but playful, and, most importantly, real.

He tries again, lighter this time “Come on. Sit with me. Just for a bit.”

You shake your head “I’m good.”

He groans and drops back onto the crate.

“Cruel…” he tells the crew.

Benn smirks “You chose this.”

“I chose love,” Shanks replies “And now love refuses to hold my hand.”

Lucky Roux points at you “They don’t even look guilty.”

You really don’t.

Shanks looks at you again, eyes soft now, no teasing.

“You know I like being close to you.” he says.

“I know.” you answer.

“And you still don’t want it?”

You hesitate.

“I just don’t need it right now” you say instead.

Shanks watches you carefully, then he smiles gently and patiently.

“Okay,” he says “I’ll wait.”

The crew quiets down a little because they all know that tone.

Shanks never forces, but he also never gives up.

And you keep staring at the sea, pretending your heart isn’t beating too fast just because he wants to be close.

Days pass.

The ship slows down as the sun starts to set.

“Land ho!” someone shouts.

The crew gets busy fast… ropes, orders, laughter. Shanks jumps up, suddenly excited like a kid.

“New island!” he says, grinning “Food, drinks, maybe trouble.”

You move toward the edge of the deck, looking at the island ahead. It’s calm, warm and quiet.

Shanks comes up beside you.

“Hey,” he says softly “Wanna explore together?”

You don’t look at him “I’ll look around later.”

His smile drops just a little.

“Later?” he repeats “Why not when we arrive?”

You shrug “I like seeing things alone first.”

Lucky Roux laughs from behind you “They’re rejecting you again, Captain.”

Shanks groans “Stop announcing it.”

Benn smirks “You notice they always walk ahead of you?”

Shanks looks at you. You’re already moving toward the plank.

“…You do,” he says quietly “You always walk ahead.”

You pause, then answer without turning around “I just walk faster.”

The crew gets off the ship in groups. Laughing. Talking. Touching shoulders.

Shanks walks behind you this time, hands in his pockets.

Yasopp leans down and whispers loudly “He looks like a kicked puppy.”

“I do not.” Shanks snaps.

“You do.” Benn says calmly.

You hear them, but you don’t react.

On the island, Shanks tries again.

He reaches for your hand.

You step aside.

“I don’t like holding hands in public.” you say quickly.

Shanks freezes “…You didn’t mind last week.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

You don’t answer.

He laughs awkwardly, scratching his head “Wow. Okay. Today I’m really not winning, huh?”

The crew watches carefully now. The teasing stops.

Shanks lowers his voice “Did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head “No. You’re fine.”

“But you keep pulling away.”

You finally look at him, and he sees your eyes are calm.

“I just need space,” you say “Please don’t make it a big deal.”

Shanks stares at you for a long second.

Then he smiles again softer, careful.

“Okay,” he says “I won’t.”

But it hurts anyway.

That night, the crew eats together in the village. You sit across from Shanks, not next to him.

He complains quietly the whole time.

“They used to steal my food.” he mutters.

Lucky Roux laughs “You’re dramatic.”

“I’m emotionally neglected.” Shanks says.

You keep eating and don’t look at him. But when you stand up to leave early, Shanks watches you go and this time, he doesn’t joke.

He just follows you with his eyes.

Thinking.

Waiting.

Weeks later.

You say yes this time. Not because you really want to, but because you said no too many times already.

Shanks looks surprised when you agree.

“Really?” he asks, eyes lighting up “Just us?”

You nod “Just us.”

He grins like a kid “Great! I knew today would be my lucky day.”

You force a small smile.

The island is beautiful. Wide streets. Warm wind. Soft light.

Shanks walks next to you, close.

He reaches for your hand. You see it coming and so you move your hand away and pretend to look at a stand.

“Oh— look at that!” you say.

His hand stops in the air.

“…Right…” he mutters, pulling it back.

He laughs it off at first “No hands. Got it…”

You walk side by side but not touching. No brushing fingers. No shoulders. No accidental contact.

Shanks talks less than usual.

You notice. You just don’t know what to do about it.

Later, you leave the village and walk into a quiet valley. Green hills. No people. No noise.

It’s peaceful.

Shanks slows down “So,” he says softly, “this place is nice.”

“It is…” you answer.

Silence falls again.

Then he reaches for you. Slow this time. Careful.

You panic. You step back without thinking.

“I— I’m sorry,” you say quickly “I just…”

Shanks freezes.

His hand stays in the air for a second… then drops.

He looks at it, like it betrayed him.

“…Guess it’s my fault,” he says quietly “always reaching when I shouldn’t.”

Your chest tightens.

“That’s not— I didn’t mean—” You shake your head, trying to explain “It’s just… you knew how I was when you confessed to me.”

The words come out wrong. Too sharp. Too cold.

Shanks looks up slowly.

“…Yeah,” he says “You didn’t even confess back.”

Your heart skips.

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it.

“This…” he says, pointing between you and him, “…this just happened.”

He lowers his hand “And I don’t even know how.”

Silence crashes between you.

You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, but you’re scared.

Scared of being too close. Scared of needing him. Scared of saying the wrong thing.

Scared of saying everything.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you whisper.

“But you did say it.” he answers gently.

He doesn’t sound angry, and that almost makes it worse.

Shanks takes a step back, giving you space.

“I don’t want to push you,” he says “But I don’t want to pretend this doesn’t hurt either.”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out.

Your fears sit heavy in your chest, locked behind your ribs.

You can’t explain them. You can’t name them.

You just stand there, shaking a little, watching the man you care about look confused and sad because of you. And you hate yourself for it.

Shanks exhales slowly. He rubs the back of his neck, looking at the ground.

“I don’t think you meant to hurt me,” he says “And I know you don’t pull away to be cruel.”

You look at him, surprised.

He gives a small, sad smile “You’re scared. I can see that.”

Your chest tightens.

“But,” he adds gently, “I can’t fix something you won’t tell me.”

You lower your head “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he says right away “That’s why I’m not mad.”

He steps back, giving you space again… too much space.

“I’m going back to the ship now,” he says “see you later.”

That’s all.

He turns around and walks away, leaving you alone in the valley.

You stand there for a long time.

Thinking.

About his hand in the air. About his sad smile. About how patient he’s been. About how scared you are.

You hate all this.

When you finally head back to the ship, the sun is already lower. The deck feels… different.

Too quiet.

The crew is there, but they’re not laughing. No jokes. No shouting.

Benn is leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Lucky Roux isn’t eating. Yasopp isn’t smiling.

You don’t think too much about it.

You just ask, softly “Where’s Shanks?”

The crew looks at each other.

Benn answers, calm but serious “He’s been in his room since he came back.”

“…I see…” you say.

No one stops you when you walk past them.

You stop in front of Shanks’ door.

Your heart beats too fast.

You raise your hand and knock.

“Yeah?” his voice answers from inside.

“It’s me…” you say.

There’s a short pause “…Come in.”

You open the door slowly and step inside.

Shanks is sitting on the bed, elbow on his knee, staring at the floor. He looks up when he sees you.

“Oh,” he says quietly “Hey.”

The door closes behind you and suddenly, there’s nowhere left to run.

The room is quiet.

He looks tired. Not drunk-tired. Not lazy-tired.

More like emotionally tired.

You stand near the door, not moving.

“…You okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, then shake your head “I don’t know.”

He lets out a small breath “Fair answer.”

Silence again.

You stare at the floor as your hands shake a little.

Shanks notices.

He stands up slowly and then he stops a few steps away.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” he says “But I don’t want us to stay like this.”

You swallow hard “I don’t want that either.”

Your voice is already breaking.

Shanks tilts his head, gentle “Then talk to me. Even if it’s messy. Even if it doesn’t sound nice.”

You laugh weakly “It won’t.”

“That’s okay,” he says “I’ve heard worse.”

That almost makes you smile.

You take a deep breath.

“I’m scared…” you finally say.

Shanks nods “I know.”

You look up, surprised “You do?”

“Yeah,” he answers quietly “I just don’t know of what.”

Your chest tightens.

“I’m scared of needing you,” you whisper “Scared of wanting you too much. Scared that one day I’ll wake up and realize I can’t function without you.”

Shanks doesn’t interrupt, so you keep going.

“I’ve always been fine on my own. I like being alone. I like space. I like knowing I can leave if I need to.” your hands clench “But with you… it feels different. And that terrifies me.”

Shanks’ expression softens.

“I pull away because if I don’t,” you continue, voice shaking, “I feel like I’ll fall too deep. And if that happens… I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you.”

Your eyes burn.

“So I keep distance. I pretend I don’t care. I act cold.” You laugh through the pain “Because caring feels dangerous.”

The room stays silent.

Then Shanks speaks, voice low “…You think I’d leave.”

You hesitate “…Yes.”

He exhales slowly and runs a hand through his hair.

“Damn,” he mutters “I was afraid of that.”

You look at him.

He looks back at you, serious now.

“You know,” he says, “from my side… it feels like I’m chasing someone who keeps stepping back.”

Your heart sinks.

“I start wondering if I imagined things,” he continues “If I pushed too hard. If you’re just… tolerating me.”

“That’s not true.” you say quickly.

“I know,” he answers “Now. But before? I didn’t.”

He looks away.

“When I confessed,” he says, quieter, “I knew you agreed to it but didn’t confess back. I told myself it was okay. That feelings grow differently. And that we have different ways of showing our feelings.”

He swallows “But sometimes… I feel lost. Like I don’t know where I stand with you.”

That hurts more than you expect.

“I never meant to make you feel that way…” you whisper.

“I know,” he says again “That’s why I stayed and I still stay.”

You look at him, eyes wide “You stay?”

He laughs softly “Yeah. Because even when you push me away, you still look back.”

He steps closer, without touching.

“You care,” he says “You’re just scared of what that means.”

Your tears finally fall.

“I don’t know how to be close without panicking,” you admit “I don’t know how to let someone love me without wanting to run.”

Shanks’ voice softens even more.

“Then don’t run,” he says “Just stand still. I’ll meet you where you are.”

You cover your face with your hands “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

He answers without hesitation “You already did.” then, gently, “And I’m still here.”

You break.

A quiet sob escapes you.

Shanks moves instantly, but carefully “Hey… hey.”

He opens his arms, not forcing.

“I’m not asking you to change overnight,” he says “I’m not asking for constant touching or big confessions.”

You lean into him before your brain can stop you.

He freezes for half a second, then he hugs you. Warm. Solid. Safe.

“I just want honesty,” he murmurs into your hair “When you pull away, tell me why. Don’t leave me guessing.”

You nod against his chest.

“I can try” you whisper.

“That’s enough,” he says “Trying is enough.”

He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m not here to trap you,” he says softly “I’m here because I choose you. Every day.”

Your chest aches but in a good way.

“And if one day you need space,” he adds, “take it. Just don’t disappear on me.”

You breathe in slowly “…Okay.”

He smiles then. Small. Real.

“See?” he says quietly “We’re figuring it out.”

For the first time, you don’t step away, and Shanks doesn’t rush you.

You look at him for a long second, then, before fear can stop you, you lean forward and kiss him.

It’s soft and careful.

Shanks freezes for half a second, then smiles into the kiss like he just won something precious.

When you pull back, his eyes are bright.

“…Wow,” he murmurs “Okay. Yeah. That was definitely worth the emotional damage.”

You laugh quietly, and realizing he’s truly happy, makes something warm bloom in your chest.

It makes you happy too.

Later you walk toward the dining area together.

Your fingers touch.

You hesitate, but then you let your hand slide into his.

He looks down, surprised, then smiles wide. He squeezes your hand gently, like he’s afraid to scare you.

You’re almost near the crew when Shanks suddenly stops, making you stop as well.

He gently pulls his hand away.

You look at him, confused, but he’s smiling. Soft. Reassuring.

Before you can say anything, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

Your breath catches.

Then he walks past you, heading straight to the crew like nothing happened.

“Alright!” he says loudly “Who’s hungry? Because I am starving.”

The mood changes instantly. Laughter. Teasing. Relief.

It’s like someone turned the light back on.

You stay where you are for a second, watching him joke and laugh, watching the crew relax around him again.

You smile.

Then you join them.

After a few minutes, Shanks disappears and comes back with a plate of food.

He places it in front of you.

“Eat,” he says simply “You didn’t earlier.”

You look at the plate, then at him.

Slowly, you take it…

…and put it aside.

Then you step closer and wrap your arms around his neck.

The deck goes quiet.

No jokes. No teasing. No comments at all.

The crew watches silently.

Shanks freezes.

You feel his whole body stiff, breath caught.

For one second, you worry you went too far, for him and also for yourself.

Then…

His shoulders drop.

His body relaxes.

His one arm comes up and settles around your back, warm and strong, holding you close.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder, heart racing.

Shanks lets out a small laugh, soft and almost shaky.

“…You’re going to kill me one day.” he whispers.

You smile against him.

It happens at lunch. You are eating with the crew when Usopp laughs and nudges your arm.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna get your boyfriend?”

You blink. “What?”

Sanji, cleaning his hands with a towel, nods toward the deck “That moss-brained idiot. You always bring him to meals. It’s like a little routine between you two now. Like a couple…”

“We’re not—” You nearly choke on your drink “We’re not a couple!”

Usopp grins “Then why do you always take so much care of him?”

“Because he’s stupid and forgets to eat!” you say, standing up “I’ll go get him, but not because of whatever weird ideas you guys have.”

You walk away while they laugh behind you.

You find Zoro exactly where you expect, napping against the ship’s railing, his swords next to him.

You roll your eyes and shake his shoulder “Oi, wake up. Lunch is ready.”

Nothing.

You shake him harder “Zoro. If you don’t get up, I’ll eat your food.”

He grumbles and waves his hand, like he’s trying to swat away a fly.

Sighing, you do what you always do. You grab his wrist and pull him up with both hands. He lets you. He always does, like it’s natural.

Zoro blinks at you, still half-asleep “Huh. You again.”

“Yeah, me again,” you say “Come eat before Sanji ‘forgets’ to save you anything.”

You’re still holding his wrist, making sure he doesn’t fall back asleep. That’s when you notice Nami and Robin watching from across the deck, smiling.

“What?” you ask, feeling awkward.

Nami smirks “You two are cute.”

Your face heats up “We’re not—he’s not—we’re not together!”

Robin chuckles “You do take care of him a lot.”

Zoro frowns, confused “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you mutterl “Come eat.”

You let go of his wrist too fast and walk away, ignoring the warm feeling in your chest.

You think it’s over, but now you notice things.

Zoro always sits next to you at meals, even when there are other seats. You always save food for him without realizing. And during fights, he always protects you first, like it’s a habit.

And, worst of all, people keep pointing it out.

“y/n,” Chopper asks one day, tilting his head “Are you and Zoro dating?”

You almost trip “What?! No!”

“Oh...” He looks confused “But you act like it”

You groan “Not you too”

After that, you can’t stop thinking about it.

The next time you wake Zoro up, your fingers stay on his wrist a second too long. The next time he pulls you behind him in a fight, your heart beats faster.

And then one evening, when you catch him watching you with a thoughtful look, you realize you might be in trouble.

That night, Zoro speaks first.

“Oi”

You look up from your seat on the deck “What?”

He leans against the railing, arms crossed “Does it bother you?”

You frown “Does what bother me?”

“What people are saying” His eyes stay on you “About us.”

You swallow “Why? Does it bother you?”

He doesn’t answer right away “No” his voice is quieter than usual.

Your stomach flips and you look at the ocean “I mean… it’s just dumb teasing, right?”

Zoro doesn’t reply. Instead, he watches you for a long time. Then, finally, he smirks.

“Doesn’t really matter what they say” he says, voice calm but sure “I’d still stick with you either way.”

Your breath catches and suddenly, your heart won’t let you ignore this anymore.

For the next days you try to brush off what the crew said.

You really do, but it’s impossible to ignore when Zoro keeps acting the same way.

Like when you’re on lookout duty together, and he hands you his jacket without a word.

Or when you spar with him, and he pulls his hits just enough so you don’t get hurt.

Or when you fall asleep on the Sunny’s deck, and you wake up covered with a blanket, one you know you didn’t grab.

And every time it happens, you catch the crew watching. Smirking.

It’s driving you insane.

One afternoon, you finally decide to do something about it.

You find Zoro by the training room, lifting weights. His shirt is half undone, sweat glistening on his skin, but you shove that thought aside.

You cross your arms “Hey, Zoro.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, not stopping his reps.

You hesitate “…Why do you treat me differently?”

He finally sets the weight down, wiping his face with a towel “What?”

“You heard me...” You shift uncomfortably “You do things for me that you don’t do for anyone else.”

Zoro leans back against the wall, looking at you like you just asked a stupid question “So?”

“So?” You huff “That means something, doesn’t it?”

He shrugs “I guess.”

You blink “That’s it? You guess?”

Zoro sighs, scratching his head “Look, I don’t really think about it. I just—” He pauses, then shrugs again “I want to.”

Your heart skips a beat “…What?”

“I want to do those things for you,” he says simply “it’s not a big deal”

You stare at him “Not a... Zoro, are you serious?”

He frowns “What, you don’t like it?”

“That’s not the point!” Your face feels hot “You don’t do this for Nami or Robin or anyone else!”

Zoro looks at you, unimpressed “Yeah. Because it’s you.”

You freeze.

The way he says it, so blunt, so obvious, it makes your stomach flip.

He isn’t flustered. He isn’t overthinking it. He’s just stating a fact.

“…Oh.”

Zoro crosses his arms, watching you carefully “Is that a problem?”

You swallow “No. It’s just…”

It’s everything. It’s him always being there, always looking out for you, always treating you like someone important.

It’s a realization you should have had ages ago.

You let out a breathless laugh “I’m an idiot.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow “Well, yeah.”

You smack his arm. He smirks.

But when your hand lingers just a little too long, he doesn’t pull away.

And suddenly, you both understand... this isn’t just a habit.

It never was.

Ever since that conversation in the training room, things between you and Zoro have… shifted, but not in a bad way.

He still trains for hours. Still naps in random spots. Still bickers with Sanji.

But now, when you sit beside him, his arm naturally rests along the back of your chair.

Now, when you fight, he doesn’t just watch your back, he makes sure you’re never out of reach.

Now, when you look at him for a second too long, he looks right back.

Like he’s waiting.

Like he’s giving you the choice.

One evening, you find him on the Sunny’s deck, looking out at the ocean.

“…Can’t sleep?” he asks.

You shake your head, stepping closer “Thinking too much.”

Zoro smirks “Dangerous habit...”

You huff a laugh but don’t argue.

Instead, you stand beside him, silent for a moment before you finally ask...

“Do you regret telling me?”

Zoro frowns “Telling you what?”

“That you… actually treat me differently. That you want to.”

His jaw tightens slightly “No.”

Your heart does something strange “Good.”

You don’t give yourself time to hesitate.

Before doubt can creep in, you grab him and pull him down.

Zoro freezes.

For half a second, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe.

Then a quiet growl rumbles from his chest, and his hand cups the back of your neck as he kisses you back.

It’s firm. Solid. Like he’s been holding back for too long and refuses to anymore.

When you finally break apart, Zoro leans his forehead against yours, exhaling through his nose.

“…Finally” he mutters.

You grin “You were waiting for me?”

“Wasn’t gonna rush you” His fingers brush your jaw “You get there when you get there.”

You hum, leaning into him “And now?”

Zoro smirks “Now, you’re stuck with me.”

You kiss him again, just to make sure he knows you wouldn’t want it any other way.

── .✦ Sanji:

Sanji has always been a flirt. That’s just how he is.

He calls Nami and Robin “my love” and “my dear”. He spins around the kitchen whenever they compliment him. He offers to carry their bags when the crew goes shopping.

But when it comes to you, it’s different.

It starts when the crew is eating dinner together.

“Sanji, can you pass the salt?” you ask.

Instead of handing you the salt shaker, Sanji grabs it, twists off the lid, and sprinkles just the right amount onto your plate.

You blink “Uh. Thanks?”

“Of course, my dear” he says smoothly. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns back to his own plate.

You think nothing of it... until you notice the way the others are watching.

Usopp raises an eyebrow “Did he just season your food for you?”

“Yeah?” You shrug “What's new about it? He's a chef and he’s just being nice.”

Luffy grins “He doesn’t do that for anyone else.”

“That’s not true,” you argue “Sanji treats everyone like this.”

Nami hums “Not exactly like this. If we wanted more salt he would start a lecture about how it would ruin his masterpiece.”

Before you can ask what she means, Sanji stands up to grab dessert. He places a plate in front of you first. It’s your favorite.

The crew stares.

You stare too “Sanji…”

He smiles “What? I made extra for you.”

Usopp coughs “Yeah. Okay. Totally normal.”

Robin chuckles behind her hand.

You shake your head and go back to eating. It’s nothing. Sanji is just being Sanji.

…Right?

But then, you start noticing other things.

When you’re cold, Sanji drapes his jacket over your shoulders without you asking.

When you need something from a high shelf, Sanji wordlessly reaches up and hands it to you.

When you’re about to trip, his hand is always there to steady you.

And every time, every single time, he does it so naturally that you don’t even think about it.

Until one day, Franky whistles and says, “You two sure act like a couple.”

You nearly drop the drink in your hands “What?!”

Sanji, who was stirring a pot at the stove, pauses.

Franky leans against the counter, grinning “You two do all that coupley stuff. He gives you the best food, takes care of you, treats you differently from everyone else—”

“That’s not true,” you say quickly “Sanji’s like this with everyone.”

Franky snorts “Nah. He does flirt with everyone. But this?” He gestures between you and Sanji “This is different.”

You glance at Sanji. He’s staring into the pot, silent.

Your face feels hot now “You guys are reading too much into things.”

“Sure we are...” Franky says, smirking. Then he leaves.

The kitchen is quiet now. You swallow and turn to Sanji.

“…Is it true?”

He looks at you. His usual confident smile is gone. Instead, there’s something softer in his eyes.

“I don’t know” he says “is it?”

Your heartbeat quickens.

Suddenly, every touch, every sweet gesture, it all feels different.

Maybe it wasn’t just a habit.

Maybe it was something else all along.

After all this the teasing has only gotten worse.

Ever since Nami and Usopp pointed out how Sanji treats you, they will not let it go.

“Here comes Sanji’s beloveeeed~” Usopp sings when you walk into the kitchen.

“I should start charging you for all the extra food Sanji makes only for you” Nami smirks.

Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t care about these things, grins at Sanji one afternoon and says “Oi, cook, when are you gonna marry y/n?”

Sanji chokes on his cigarette so hard he has to brace himself on the counter.

You groan and drag a hand down your face.

But what really drives you insane?

Sanji never denies it.

He stutters, blushes, waves his hands, but he never says “That’s not true.”

Because it is true.

And it’s starting to drive you crazy.

You try to ignore it. But then you start noticing things, even the smallest ones.

Sanji never lets you carry anything heavy.

He always pours you tea first, even before Nami and Robin.

He adjusts your chair at dinner like it’s second nature.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

But you do.

And now, every time he gives you that look—the one that’s soft, full of admiration, like you hung the damn sun in the sky—your heart stumbles over itself.

This has to stop.

Or something has to change.

It happens one evening after dinner.

You’re in the kitchen, helping Sanji clean up. He hums as he washes the dishes, sleeves rolled up, golden hair falling over his forehead.

You watch him for a second, then take a deep breath.

“Sanji.”

He glances at you, smiling “Yes, my love?”

You grip the counter “Why do you act like we’re together?”

Sanji freezes.

The faucet keeps running. The kitchen is warm with the smell of spices. But Sanji is frozen.

Slowly, he turns his head toward you “…P-Pardon?”

You cross your arms “You treat me differently. Even the crew notices. You never do this stuff for anyone else.”

Sanji swallows hard “I—”

“You never deny it,” you press “and honestly? I’m tired of waiting for you to finally say something.”

Sanji stares at you like you’ve just flipped his entire world upside down.

His hands shake. His lips part like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out.

“…Sanji.” Your voice softens “Do you want this to be real?”

A shuddering breath leaves him. He looks at you, eyes wide, vulnerable.

“More than anything...” he whispers.

Your heartbeat stutters.

That’s it. That’s all you need to hear.

You step forward, grab the front of his shirt, and kiss him.

Sanji malfunctions.

His entire body locks up, like his brain has completely short-circuited.

For a solid two seconds, he does not move.

Then a noise escapes him, something between a whimper and a desperate sigh, and his hands come up to cup your face, pulling you closer.

The kiss is warm, overwhelming, but soft, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tight.

When you finally pull away, he’s redder than his own suit.

“…M-Mon amour,” he breathes, voice shaking “You...you actually...”

You smirk “Took us long enough, cook.”

Sanji makes a strangled sound and immediately buries his face in your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you.

Outside, the crew is losing their minds.

“TOLD YOU!” Usopp shouts.

“I WON THE BET!” Nami cheers.

“Oi, Sanji, you alive in there?” Zoro snickers.

Sanji doesn’t answer. He’s too busy melting against you, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

And honestly?

You think you’ll let him.

── .✦ Law:

Law is not the kind of person who likes physical contact. He doesn’t let most people touch him. He keeps his distance, always standing at the edge of conversations with his arms crossed. If someone bumps into him, they get a glare.

But for some reason, you are different.

It starts when Bepo hands you a coat one evening.

“Here,” he says, tail flicking “you left this in the lounge.”

You blink at it. It’s black, long, and definitely not yours.

“This isn’t mine” you say, confused.

Bepo tilts his head “Oh. But you always wear the captain’s coat, so I thought it was yours now...”

You freeze.

“Wait. What?”

Shachi walks by and hears the conversation. He grins “Yeah, you totally do. Every time you’re cold, you steal his coat.”

Penguin nods “And Law never complains.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Try to remember.

…Okay, maybe you have borrowed Law’s coat a few times. But that’s just because it’s warm! And because it’s there! And because...

Oh no.

Your stomach twists “I... I do not...”

“Sure you don’t...” Shachi teases “What’s next? Calling him ‘dear’?”

You groan and shove the coat at Bepo before walking away.

But now, you can’t stop thinking about it.

After this, you start noticing other things. Like how Law always lets you into his personal space.

How you can tug his hat down over his eyes without him pushing you away.

How he casually rests his hand on your shoulder when he stands next to you.

One day, you trip over a loose crate. Before you even hit the ground, a familiar blue glow surrounds you... Law’s Room.

In an instant, you’re back on your feet, completely unharmed.

The Heart Pirates snicker.

“Captain didn’t even think” Penguin whispers.

“He never uses Room for anyone else’s clumsiness” Shachi adds.

You glare at them “I heard that.”

They just smirk.

Law doesn’t say anything. He just sighs and keeps walking, like saving you without thinking is the most natural thing in the world.

Your heart does something weird. You ignore it.

Later, you sit on a crate, arms crossed. Law stands next to you, reading a medical book.

You glance at him “Your crew keeps calling me ‘Captain’s partner.’”

He doesn’t look up “So?”

“So, why?”

He flips a page “Probably because you act like one.”

Your brain short-circuits.

You stare “Excuse me?”

Law finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow “You’re always in my quarters, you steal my coat, and you act like you belong next to me. They’re not wrong.”

Your face burns “I... You let me do all that!”

He smirks “I know.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Because suddenly, you realize... he has let you. And he still is.

Ever since Bepo and the others pointed out how Law treats you differently, it’s been impossible to ignore.

The extra care during missions. The way he always stands just a little closer than necessary. The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his shoulder, even his hand, when no one else would dare.

But what really gives him away?

The way his ears burn red every time you get too close.

And yet he never says anything.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was running an experiment to see how long he could keep this up before you lost your mind.

So tonight you’re calling him out.

You find him in his quarters, buried in medical books.

“Hey, Law.” You lean against the desk, arms crossed “Can I ask you something?”

His eyes flick up “What?”

You tilt your head “Do you like me?”

Law chokes.

Not just a little cough... he full-on chokes on air, slamming his book shut as if that’ll somehow save him.

“What—?!” He coughs into his fist “Where the hell did that come from?”

You raise an eyebrow “You tell me.”

Law scowls, shifting uncomfortably “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh? Am I?” You step closer.

He stiffens “What are you...?”

You place your hands on the arms of his chair and lean in, caging him in.

His breath hitches.

Oh. Oh.

He is not prepared for this.

“Law,” you murmur, watching his face closely “you never let anyone touch you, but you let me.”

His jaw clenches “That doesn’t—”

“You always make sure I rest. You check my injuries before anyone else’s.”

“Because you’re reckless—”

“And...” you lean even closer “your ears are red right now.”

Law swallows.

You smirk “So, wanna try again?”

For a long moment, he just stares at you, lips parted, golden eyes darting between yours.

Then, in a last-ditch effort, he growls... “You’re annoying.”

You hum “Maybe.”

And then you kiss him.

Law goes still.

For the first time since you’ve known him, he is completely speechless.

But then a quiet sound escapes him, and his hand suddenly grips your wrist, holding you there.

You almost pull back, unsure, until his other hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he kisses you back.

It’s hesitant at first, but when you don’t pull away, something shifts.

The kiss deepens, his grip tightens, and the heat radiating off of him is enough to make you dizzy.

When you finally part, Law exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours.

“…You’re gonna be a problem” he mutters, voice rough.

You grin “Yeah?”

His fingers tighten in your hair “Yeah.”

And then, despite everything, he kisses you again.

Because for once in his life he’s done running.

── .✦ Ace:

Ace is naturally affectionate.

He throws an arm around people’s shoulders, laughs loudly, and grins like the world is a joke he’s in on. He’s warm but also because he makes people feel welcome.

So it’s not weird that he touches you a lot.

Right?

It starts when Marco sits down next to you, smirking.

“You and Ace finally together, yoi?”

You look at him confused “what do you mean?”

“A couple… are you two a couple?”

You almost drop your drink “What? No!”

Marco raises an eyebrow “You sure? He always saves you a seat at meals. Always gives you his food if you ask. Always keeps an eye on you during fights.”

You roll your eyes “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just like that.”

“Not with everyone” Marco takes a sip of his drink “Just you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but then you don’t know what to say, because now, you’re thinking about it.

The next time Ace sits beside you at dinner, you notice how he slides his plate a little closer to yours, letting you steal his food.

The next time the crew docks at an island, you notice how he instinctively waits for you before walking off together.

The next time you’re about to trip, you don’t even get the chance to fall, Ace grabs your wrist and steadies you like it’s second nature.

And maybe it is second nature.

“Careful, Ace,” one of the division commanders teases “If you keep acting like that, y/n might actually think you’re in love.”

Ace laughs, scratching the back of his head “Yeah, yeah.”

You laugh too. Because it’s just a joke… Right?

One night, you sit together on the deck, watching the ocean.

You fidget for a second before saying “The crew keeps calling us a couple”

Ace hums “Yeah?”

You glance at him “Why do you think that is?”

He leans back, arms behind his head, and grins “Probably because we act like one.”

You choke on your own breath “Excuse me?!”

Ace tilts his head “I mean, we do everything together. You always take my food, and I always let you. You always pull me out of trouble, and I always let you. Feels natural, doesn’t it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because now that you think about it... yeah, it does feel natural.

“…Ace,” you say slowly “Are we...?”

He looks at you, amusement flickering in his eyes “What do you think?”

Your stomach flips.

Because suddenly, you’re not sure where the habit ends and the feelings begin.

After this, Ace keeps flirting with you all the time.

It’s just who he is.

Winks across the deck. Throwing an arm around your shoulders. Calling you hot stuff like it’s your actual name.

You’re used to it.

But after the teasing from Marco and Thatch, after realizing that Ace treats you differently, you start to wonder.

Is he just playing around? Or is there something real underneath?

There’s only one way to find out.

The perfect opportunity comes one afternoon, when Ace flops down next to you on the Moby Dick’s deck, grinning.

“Hey,” he drawls, resting an arm behind his head “Miss me?”

You smirk “I saw you literally two hours ago.”

“That’s two hours too long.” He winks “Bet you were thinking about me the whole time.”

You hum, tilting your head “You really think that, huh?”

Ace chuckles “C’mon, you love me.”

You raise an eyebrow “Prove it.”

He blinks “Huh?”

You shift, leaning closer with a sly smile “You say all this stuff, Ace. You flirt, you tease... but are you actually serious?”

For the first time, he hesitates.

Just for a second, but it’s enough.

“…Of course I am,” he says, but his usual confidence isn’t all there.

You smirk “Then show me.”

Before he can react, you grab his hat, his precious hat, and plop it onto your own head.

Ace short-circuits.

“Oi! That’s...!” He reaches for it instinctively but stops mid-motion, staring at you.

You tilt the brim with a smirk “What? You said you liked me, right?”

Ace swallows “Y-Yeah?”

“Then just take it back.”

You expect him to snatch it back playfully.

What you don’t expect is for Ace to grin, eyes flickering with mischief, and suddenly tackle you onto the deck.

You yelp as he hovers over you, forearms braced on either side of your head.

The crew whoops in the background, but neither of you pay them any attention.

Ace smirks down at you “You think you’re funny, huh?”

You grin “A little.”

Ace shakes his head, chuckling, but then his expression softens.

He reaches up, tilts the hat back just enough to see your face properly.

And then without thinking he leans down and kisses you.

It’s grinning into the kiss kind of playful. It’s warm and teasing but full of something deeper.

And when he pulls back, face way too close, he murmurs “Now you gotta prove it.”

Your heart races.

You don’t back down. Instead, you tug him down by his necklace and kiss him again.

This time, Ace melts.

When you finally break apart, Ace huffs out a breathless laugh.

“Well,” he grins “Guess you do love me.”

You roll your eyes “Shut up.”

But you don’t stop him when he kisses you one more time.

Because, honestly?

He’s right.

── .✦ Sabo:

Sabo is easy to be around.

He’s kind, smart, and always ready to listen. He laughs at your jokes, never forgets your favorite things, and somehow always knows when you need him.

So it’s no surprise that you spend a lot of time together.

But apparently, the way you act around him is a little… suspicious.

It starts when you’re walking through the Revolutionary Army base with Koala.

“So,” she says casually “when are you and Sabo going to make it official?”

You nearly trip over your own feet “What?!”

Koala grins “Come on, don’t play dumb. You two already act like a couple.”

You scoff “No, we don’t.”

She raises an eyebrow “Oh really? Who’s the first person Sabo looks for when he gets back from a mission?”

“…Me.”

“Who’s the only person he lets borrow his gloves?”

“…Me.”

“And who’s the only one he lets fall asleep on his shoulder without complaining?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Because—oh.

Oh.

Koala smirks “See what I mean?”

You shake your head “That doesn’t mean anything. We’re just close.”

She shrugs “If you say so.”

But now, you can’t stop thinking about it. You start noticing things, like how Sabo always finds a reason to sit next to you during meals, or how he reaches out to fix your collar or tuck your hair behind your ear like it’s normal, or how he always makes sure you have a blanket when you fall asleep at your desk, even though no one else gets that treatment.

And the worst part?

Now that you’re paying attention, everyone else is too.

“I swear, it’s like they’re married” one soldier mutters.

“They finish each other’s sentences” another whispers.

“Bet they don’t even realize” someone else chuckles.

You groan and drop your head onto the table.

Sabo, sitting beside you, blinks “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” you mumble.

He frowns, then wordlessly slides his drink toward you.

You stare at it “…Did you just give me your drink?”

He shrugs “You like it more than I do.”

You glance around. Several soldiers are watching now, smirking.

Slowly, you push the drink back to him.

Sabo looks confused “You don’t want it?”

Your face burns “Nope. I’m fine.”

He tilts his head, then shrugs and takes a sip.

The others snicker.

You sigh.

Later that night, you sit beside him on the rooftop, watching the stars.

“Sabo,” you say carefully “do we… act like a couple?”

He hums “Why?”

“People keep saying we do.”

Sabo leans back on his hands, thinking. Then he smiles “I guess I can see why.”

Your heart skips a beat “You can?”

“Well, we’re always together,” he says easily “I trust you more than anyone. You take care of me, I take care of you. Feels normal.”

You stare at him “That’s… kind of a couple thing, don’t you think?”

Sabo looks at you for a long moment. Then he smirks.

“Well,” he says, voice teasing but gentle “do you want it to be?”

Your breath catches.

And suddenly, the answer seems obvious.

Sabo has always been easy to be around.

You never have to force a conversation. Never have to second-guess his presence.

He’s just there, a steady warmth beside you, the hand that always steadies your back when you walk through the Revolutionary camp, the person you find yourself naturally leaning against when you’re tired.

And the thing is?