#ace fluff

“Hey.”

You don’t look at him “No.”

Ace laughs.

You don’t even need to see his face to know he’s smiling.

“I didn’t even ask yet.”

“You were going to.”

“Yeah.” he admits easily.

You sigh and finally look at him.

He’s sitting backwards on a chair, arms folded over the backrest, chin resting on them like this is the most natural thing in the world.

“You should really start saving yourself the effort,” you mutter “it’s still no.”

“C’mon,” he says lightly “just one date.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You stare at him… because you’re tired, because he’s warm and loud and impossible to ignore, because everyone loves him, because you don’t trust things that feel that easy.

You look away “Because I said so.”

Ace tilts his head.

He doesn’t push immediately.

“…You don’t even hesitate.” he says quietly.

“I don’t need to.”

“Alright,” he says, standing “means I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

You groan “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ll miss me when I stop.”

You snort “That’s not happening.”

He just smiles like he knows something you don’t.

You hate that smile. You hate how it makes your chest feel weird.

It becomes routine annoyingly fast.

Breakfast?

“Morning. Date?”

“No.”

Lunch?

“So, later?”

“No.”

Training deck?

“You know, sunsets are romantic.”

“No.”

Evening?

“One day you’re gonna say yes.”

“In your dreams maybe.”

You tell yourself it’s harmless, he’s just like this… persistent and bright.

He asks like it’s a joke, like it doesn’t matter, like your answer doesn’t carry weight.

That’s why you keep saying no. Maybe if it mattered you don’t let yourself finish that thought.

“You’re being mean.”

You look up.

Thatch is leaning against the railing, watching you with an amused expression.

“I’m being realistic.” you reply.

“He likes you, you know.”

You immediately stiffen “No he doesn’t.”

Thatch raises an eyebrow “Kid, he asks you out every single day.”

“He asks everyone for things.” you argue.

“Not like that.”

You glare at the deck “He’ll get bored soon or later.”

Thatch goes quiet “…Is that what you’re waiting for?”

You don’t answer.

You know that at first people burn bright, but then they leave ashes.

You don’t say it out loud, but something must show on your face because Thatch’s expression softens.

“He’s not like that.” he says gently.

You shake your head “They all are.”

You almost forget about it.

Until that night.

You’re heading below deck when you see him sitting on the railing, legs dangling over the sea, firelight flickering faintly in his palm.

You try to walk past quietly.

“Hey.” he sayv without turning.

You stop “…What?”

He looks over his shoulder, softer now. This time there's no grin… no teasing.

“You never actually told me why.”

Your chest tightens “Why what?”

“Why you keep saying no.”

You cross your arms “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

He nods “You’re right.”

And that should be the end of it, but he keeps looking at you as if he's waiting for something.

It makes something twist inside you and you hate that, so you go on the offensive.

“You ask like it’s nothing,” you say sharply “like it’s just a game. And to be honest, I just don't like playing.”

His brows knit slightly “It’s not a game.”

“Then why do you keep asking?” you snap “You barely even know me.”

That’s not true and you both know it, but you say it anyway. Because distance is safer than honesty.

Ace looks at you for a long moment, then he looks back at the ocean.

“…I know enough.” he says quietly.

Something in your throat tightens.

You hate this.

You hate how he says things like that.

Simple.

Honest.

You look away.

“You’ll get tired of it,” you say “everyone does.”

The words slip out before you can stop them.

Ace goes very still.

“…Is that what you think?” he asks softly.

You don’t answer… because yes.

“…One date.” he says.

You blink “What?”

“One.” he repeats “That’s it.”

You stare at him.

He’s not smiling. Not joking.

“If you still don’t want me around after that,” he says, voice steady, “I’ll stop asking.”

Your heart stutters.

You frown “You’re serious.”

“Yeah.”

You study his face, searching for the punchline. There isn’t one.

That makes it worse.

You should say no.

You want to say no.

You open your mouth… and hesitate.

One date.

And that will be proof that the warmth is temporary, that he’ll lose interest and that you’re right.

You inhale slowly “…Fine.”

The word slips out before you can stop it.

Ace freezes.

“You’re joking.” he says.

“I’m not,” you mutter immediately, “but don’t get too excited.”

Too late because his entire face lights up like sunrise.

You regret everything instantly.

“Just one,” you warn “and if I won't change my mind about you, you stop asking.”

He laughs, bright and disbelieving “Deal.”

You turn away quickly before you can see how happy he looks.

As you walk off, you don’t notice the way his smile softens into something quieter.

“…One date…” he murmurs to himself like it’s something precious, like it matters more than he’s letting on.

You regret agreeing immediately.

It starts the second the ship docks.

A new island.

You’re halfway through stretching your arms when you hear “Hey!”

You don’t even have to turn around.

“No.” you say automatically.

“I didn’t ask yet!”

You groan into your hands.

Too early for this.

You turn slowly.

He’s already looking at you like a kid who just remembered a holiday.

“…Today.” he says, pointing at the island like it personally owes him something “We’re here. New place. Perfect timing.”

Your stomach drops “No.”

His grin widens “You promised.”

You hate that he’s right.

“…Fine,” you mutter “later.”

“Now.” he says immediately.

You stare at him.

He looks genuinely hopeful.

That makes it worse.

“…Give me time to get ready.” you grumble.

His face lights up again “Okay!”

You don’t get ready.

You stare at your clothes for a long time.

You could dress up.

You could make an effort.

You could make this feel real.

But at the end you grab the same clothes you always wear.

If this is going to end badly, you’re not dressing for the occasion.

You step out of your room with zero ceremony and immediately freeze… because the entire crew is on deck.

And at the center of it? Him.

Leaning against the railing.

Surrounded.

Grinning nervously while everyone absolutely destroys him.

“Look at him!” someone laughs “He’s pacing!”

“You’ve been up here for an hour!”

“Did you bring flowers??”

“I swear if you start crying—”

“I am not gonna cry!” Ace protests.

You almost turn around but it’s too late.

Someone already spotted you “Oh!”

Heads turn.

You consider jumping overboard but you step forward instead.

You’re hyperaware of everything. The way the crew goes quiet. The way some of them grin.

The way Ace turns and stops completely. His expression softens instantly.

Not surprised.

Not disappointed.

Just… soft.

Like he expected you exactly like this.

You look away quickly.

“…What?” you mutter defensively “I said I’d come. I didn’t say I’d dress up.”

“I didn’t expect you to.” he says gently.

You blink and risk a glance.

He means it.

That annoys you more than anything.

You cross your arms “Good.”

Behind him, someone coughs dramatically.

“Oh my god he’s gone soft.”

“Look at his face!”

“He’s doomed.”

You want to disappear.

Ace groans “You guys are the worst.”

Then he turns back to you and pulls something from behind his back.

Your brain short-circuits.

A handful of bright flowers tied together with a thin string.

Your stomach drops.

You were not prepared for that.

“…I, uh…” he says, suddenly awkward “Found them earlier.”

The deck is too quiet.

You don’t know what to do with your hands. You don’t know what to do with your face.

No one warned you there would be flowers.

You stare at them, then at him.

He looks weirdly nervous now.

“…You didn’t have to.” you say quickly.

“I wanted to.”

Simple.

You take them and your fingers brush his.

Warm.

You immediately pull back.

“…Thanks.” you mutter.

You don’t look at him.

You can feel the crew vibrating with contained chaos.

Someone is absolutely about to scream.

You panic.

You pass the flowers to the nearest person without looking.

“Here.” you say, shoving the bouquet into their hands “Put these in water. I guess.”

They freeze “You just—”

You’re already walking away, off the ship, before anyone can react or say anything.

Before you can think too hard about how your hands are shaking.

“Hey— wait!” of course he follows.

You hear his footsteps hitting the dock behind you, light and quick.

You don’t slow down.

He catches up easily and he doesn’t say anything for a second.

You shove your hands into your pockets.

“…So,” you mutter, not looking at him “what’s the plan?”

He lights up.

“Oh! Okay, so—” he starts, already talking with his hands “I asked around earlier, and there’s this market near the center of town? And they’ve got food stalls and music and—”

You glance at him despite yourself.

He’s animated and excited.

“And then,” he continues, barely pausing for air, “there’s this hill that overlooks the harbor. Someone said the sunset’s really good from there. I figured we could go later, if you’re not tired, I mean, we don’t have to—”

He stops suddenly, like he just realized he’s rambling.

“…Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck “I might’ve planned too much.”

You didn’t expect this.

You look away quickly when you realise you're staring.

“…You’re doing a lot for one date.” you say.

He shrugs, a little sheepish “I told you it mattered.”

Your chest tightens.

You weren’t supposed to hear that.

You kick a small pebble on the dock.

“…You’re weird.” you mutter.

He grins again, softer “Yeah.”

You exhale slowly.

This is already going wrong.

You tell yourself this is still a mission for you.

A very important one, make Ace stop liking you.

It should be easy.

You’ve survived worse, life threatening missions.

The island is loud and bright and alive, full of music and chatter and colors that feel way too cheerful for your mood. You still walk a step ahead of Ace, hands shoved into your pockets, trying to look as uninterested as possible.

He’s doing the opposite.

He’s practically bouncing beside you.

“So first,” he says, pointing dramatically down the street, “food.”

You sigh “Of course it is.”

“You can’t have a proper date without food.” he insists.

“It’s not a date.”

He grins “Sure.”

You glare at him.

He just keeps smiling.

Very annoying.

The food stall smells amazing. Which is unfortunate, because you’re trying to be awful, not enjoy yourself.

Ace orders like he hasn’t eaten in years, stacking plates between you both until the tiny wooden table looks like it might collapse.

You stare at the mountain of food “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Nope,” he says cheerfully “just trying to impress you.”

You snort “With carbs? Not that I mind them but…”

“With love.” he corrects.

You immediately shove food into your mouth so you don’t have to answer.

You eat fast and messy on purpose. Sauce drips on your fingers. Rice falls everywhere. You chew loudly. You even slouch.

You are the worst date in existence.

You even burp. Loud.

Okay… that might’ve been too much.

You slowly look up, ready to see horror, regret, disgust.

Ace’s eyes go wide.

And then he smiles “Nice.”

Before you can react he leans back and lets out a burp that is way louder than yours.

You stare at him in disbelief.

He looks proud.

“That was amazing,” he says, wiping his mouth “You’re amazing.”

“…You’re disgusting…” you say weakly.

He laughs like you just told the best joke in the world.

And somehow, against your will, your lips twitch.

You leave before the smile can betray you.

The market is even more crowded now, people brushing past you, music drifting from somewhere nearby.

You spot a stall filled with random accessories, bright scarves, weird hats, gaudy trinkets.

You stop suddenly.

Ace almost walks into you.

“What?” he asks.

You point at the ugliest thing you can find.

It’s… a hat, if you can even call it that.

It’s oversized, neon orange, with fake feathers sticking out and little dangling bells that jingle when the wind moves.

You stare at it with the most serious face you can manage “That would look good on you.”

You expect confusion, maybe offense, at least hesitation.

Instead Ace’s eyes light up “Really?”

You blink “No, I—”

Too late because he grabs it.

“How much?” he asks the vendor.

You stare, horrified, as he slaps the coins down and plops the monstrosity onto his head.

It is worse than you imagined.

He turns to you, glowing “Well?”

You really try…… You press your lips together, looking away, pretending to inspect another stall. But you see him in your peripheral vision, standing there like an excited kid, waiting for your reaction.

And then a small, accidental but real laugh escapes.

Your hand flies to your mouth too late.

Ace goes still.

You freeze too.

He’s staring at you softly.

“You smiled…” he says quietly.

You immediately look away “Don’t get used to it.”

His grin returns, brighter than before.

You need to regain control.

Your eyes scan the market until they land on a display inside a fancy shop window.

Jewelry. Ridiculously expensive-looking.

You walk straight toward it.

Ace follows, bells jingling with every step.

You stop in front of the display and point at the most over-the-top item you can find.

A bracelet.

Studded with gemstones that probably cost more than an entire ship “I want that.”

You say it flatly.

The worst version of yourself.

Ace doesn’t even hesitate “Okay.”

He walks inside.

You stare.

No no no.

You rush after him “Wait—”

Too late.

He’s already talking to the shopkeeper “How much for that one?”

The number the shopkeeper says makes your stomach drop.

You almost choke.

That’s not expensive.

That’s catastrophic.

And Ace… just nods.

Reaches for his pouch.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

Is he insane?!

“That’s the crew’s money.” you hiss, grabbing his wrist.

The moment your fingers wrap around his arm he stops.

You feel his warmth immediately.

You look up and see that his face is red all the way to his ears.

You realize you’re still holding him.

Your brain short-circuits.

You let go like you’ve been burned.

“I— don’t buy it.” you mutter, suddenly very interested in the floor “It’s ugly anyway.”

Silence.

You risk a glance.

He’s still looking at you.

Still flushed.

Then he smiles.

“Okay.” he says quietly.

And somehow that makes your chest feel weird. In a way that has (unfortunately) nothing to do with you ruining the date anymore.

You don’t notice when it happens and that’s the worst part. At some point between the ugly hat, the food, the chaos, and the warmth of his laugh… you stop trying to ruin the date. You stop planning your next disaster. You stop thinking about how to ruin the moment.

And somehow, you’re actually having fun.

The kind that sneaks up on you and sits quietly in your chest until you suddenly realize it’s there.

You’re laughing at something stupid he says.

You’re pointing at random things for fun now, not to test his patience.

You’re arguing about which stall smells better.

You forget to be difficult.

You forget to be cold.

You forget your own plan.

And that realization hits you like a brick.

You’re still trying to process that terrifying truth when Ace suddenly stops walking.

“We’re close.” he says, softer now.

You blink “To what?”

He looks at you, and for once, he’s not grinning like an idiot “The last part.”

The fireworks.

You swallow “…Lead the way.”

The climb isn’t hard, but it’s quiet.

The noise of the island fades behind you with every step, replaced by wind and distant music and chatter drifting up from the town below.

When you reach the top, you stop without meaning to.

It’s beautiful.

The hill overlooks the entire island, lights scattered below like fallen stars. The ocean stretches endlessly beyond it, reflecting the moon.

And there’s a bench.

You look at him.

He shrugs, suddenly shy “I found it earlier.”

You don’t tease him, you just sit.

He sits beside you, not too close but not too far.

The sky above is clear, scattered with stars that feel brighter away from the island lights.

For a while, neither of you speaks,  but it’s not awkward, it’s… calm.

You hate how much you like it.

Ace is quieter and softer. Even his energy feels warmer instead of his usual loudness.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low.

“Still early,” he murmurs, looking up “fireworks aren’t for a bit.”

You nod.

You should say something sarcastic, something mean, something that puts the distance back where it belongs.

Instead, you hear yourself ask, “Did you come here earlier?”

He smiles faintly “Nah. First time.”

“…Then how were you so sure about it?”

He scratches the back of his neck “I asked around. Wanted somewhere… special. And a lot of people pointed at this.”

Your heart stutters.

You stare harder at the sky.

You realize you’re staring at him. You don’t even know when you started…

Maybe when his voice softened, maybe when the wind moved his hair, or maybe when he stopped trying to impress you and just… existed.

You’re staring way too much.

You force yourself to look away but then he speaks again “You know?”

Your chest tightens.

“I don’t know how you feel now about this date,” he says quietly, eyes still on the sky “but I was and still am serious about it… and about you.”

Your breath catches.

He doesn’t look at you.

“I’m not asking you out just for the fun of it as you said…” he continues “I had a crush on you since… ever.”

Your brain goes blank.

The words don’t feel real, they float in the air between you, fragile and warm.

You can’t move, can’t speak.

And he keeps going.

“You said I don’t even know you,” he murmurs “but I actually know a lot.”

Your hands tighten in your lap.

“I know that you like…” and he does a full list of things you really like and that you thought no one knew.

He continues “I know that you hate loud mornings. That you pretend you don’t care about sunsets but you always look at them. That you act tough when you’re tired. That you hum when you think no one’s listening.”

Your heart is pounding now, too fast and too loud.

“And I know you hate…” he continues softly, almost smiling “being the center of attention. People touching your stuff without asking. Losing at card games. When people lie to you.”

You can’t breathe.

You can’t think.

He exhales slowly.

“And I know about your past,” he adds quietly “about everything that happened to you…”

Your eyes burn.

“And not to look like a stalker,” he says quickly, almost nervous now, smiling at the sky to not look at you “but we’ve been friends. You’re the one who told me all these things. I just… listened. And paid attention to the details.”

Silence. The kind that wraps around you and squeezes your chest.

You don’t know what to do with this… or with him and the fact that he noticed, that he remembered.

That he cared.

A distant boom cracks the air.

The first firework explodes above the island, blooming into color.

Ace’s face and eyes light up in pure awe, like a child seeing magic for the first time.

You don’t look at the fireworks. You can’t because you can’t stop staring at him from the shock of the things he said.

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

Why he kept asking.

Why he never gave up.

Why he looked at you like that.

Why today felt different.

Why your chest feels like it’s about to burst.

You’ve been trying so hard to push him away.

And he’s just been… there.

You swallow.

Your voice comes out small “Ace...”

He turns immediately, half worried from your tone and half still dreamy from the fireworks and from everything he had the courage to say.

“Yeah?”

And that’s the moment, the point of no return.

Before your brain can stop you, your hands reach up, cupping his cheeks.

He freezes completely.

His freckles are closer than you’ve ever seen them.

His eyes widen and you kiss him softly and carefully. For a heartbeat, he don’t move, still in pure shock.

Then he closes his eyes and he melts in the kiss as his hand comes up instinctively, fingers brushing your wrist before sliding to your waist.

He kisses you back, deeper and warmer, taking the lead without hesitation.

Fireworks explode behind you two, lighting the sky in bursts of lights and warm colours, but you barely see them., all you feel is warmth and him, and the way your chest finally feels right.

When you pull back, you’re both breathless and stunned. A little dazed.

You rest your forehead against his for a second before whispering “I’m glad you made me change my mind about this date…”

He stares at you like you just gave him the world.

Then he smiles brightly, and before you can get embarrassed he leans in and kisses you again quick and happy, like he can’t help it.

Then he pulls you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tight and warm as if he’s having a cute aggression.

You don’t resist.

As he calms down, you lean into him, resting against his chest as the fireworks continue to bloom across the sky, and finally you watch them together.

The walk back is quiet, but not awkward.

Your fingers are laced with his, warm and solid and very, very real.

Every now and then, Ace swings your joined hands slightly like he can’t help himself, like he’s having the best moment of his life.

You just smile and let him, and, of course, you don’t let go.

The island is calmer now. The festival has started winding down, lanterns glowing softer, laughter drifting through the streets like echoes instead of noise.

“You’re quiet.” Ace murmurs.

You glance at him “So are you.”

He grins sheepishly “I’m trying not to mess it up.”

Your chest tightens “Mess what up?”

He squeezes your hand gently “This.”

Your ears burn.

You look away immediately “You’re being dramatic.”

“Always have been.” he says easily.

You try to roll your eyes, but the smile creeping onto your face betrays you.

He notices and his grin grows.

The ship comes into view too soon.

You stop walking.

Ace takes one more step before realizing you’re not moving anymore.

He turns “Hey, what—”

You’re staring at the Moby Dick like it personally betrayed you.

“…We have to face them…” you mutter.

The realization hits “Oh.”

You both look at the ship, then at each other, then back at the ship.

You can almost hear the chaos waiting up there.

Ace scratches his cheek “We could… run away.”

You snort “We’d last five minutes before Marco finds us.”

“…Fair.”

You sigh deeply.

You’ve fought marines. Sea kings. Warlords. And somehow, this feels worse.

You climb aboard together still holding hands.

You don’t realize you’re still doing it until you hear an… “OH MY GOD.”

Way too late.

Half the crew is already there like vultures waiting, watching and smiling.

You and Ace freeze.

Your hands are still linked.

Someone drops something dramatically in the background.

“I KNEW IT!” someone shouts.

“PAY UP!” another voice yells.

You close your eyes slowly.

This is a nightmare. A living, breathing nightmare.

“SO…” a voice sings.

You open one eye.

Of course it’s Thatch, grinning like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment.

You immediately try to let go of Ace’s hand but he tightens his grip and the traitor he is.

You shoot him a look and he looks back with a sheepish smile that says sorry not sorry.

Unbelievable.

“Well?” Thatch leans forward “How was the date?”

“It wasn’t a date.” you say instantly.

“It was the best date.” Ace says at the exact same time.

You both turn to glare at each other.

The crew explodes in laughter and whistles. Someone is clapping like they’re at a play.

You consider jumping overboard.

Marco is leaning against the railing, smirking in that calm, knowing way that makes everything worse.

“So,” he says lazily, “you finally figured it out, huh?”

“Figured what out?” you snap.

He just gestures vaguely at your hands.

You look down and your face burns.

“You kissed, didn’t you?” someone shouts.

You and Ace choke.

The crew goes feral.

You try to yank your hand free again and this time, Ace lets go, but not because he wants to, you can tell.

He rubs the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly “Okay, okay, that’s enough—”

“DID YOU CRY?” someone yells.

“WERE THERE FIREWORKS?”

You and Ace freeze painfully slowly, and look at each other.

The crew goes silent. Then erupts louder than before.

You bury your face in your hands.

You’re never recovering from this.

You might actually die right here on this deck from embarrassment instead of the pirate life.

Then warm fingers brush yours again, tentative and careful.

You look up.

Ace isn’t laughing anymore.

He’s smiling softly at you, and suddenly, the noise fades a little.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You should lie, but instead, you sigh “…No.”

He laughs softly, then, without hesitation, he takes your hand again, firm this time.

Your heart flips.

The crew notices immediately, but this time, you don’t let go, you squeeze back.

~Ace

Ace was used to attention.

Not because he demanded it..he just…got it..Almost everywhere he went.

People would stared. Girls giggled. Guys admired.. pirates everywhere knew his name.

He would smiled, and half the island melted.

So when he first saw you, he did what he always did:

He flashed that easy grin.. Tilting his head.

Leaned against the railing like he was posing for a poster.

“Hey,” he said, voice warm and smooth. “Need any help?”

You glanced at him.

A single, polite glance.

“No thanks.”

And you walked away.

Ace blinked.

Head tilted.

“…Huh?”

Ace decided to try again the next day.

He leaned over the table where you were sorting supplies, arms crossed..his muscles doing their usual “look at me” thing.

“So,” he said, lowering his voice, “you come here often?”

You didn’t even look up.

“I live here.”

Ace froze.

“Oh..Right..Yeah. That makes sense.”

You kept working.

Ace stared at you, baffled. He is not used to this.

He tried again.

“You know… most people think I’m pretty charming.”

“do they..”

“Like… really charming.”

“Mm.”

Ace blinked again.

He couldn't help but think 'am I…broken?...Or is she broken??'

Ace decided maybe you just didn’t realize he was flirting. Ya that has to be it.

So he made it more obvious.

He brought you your favorite snacks...yes he had to first figure out what it was..

He made sure to compliment your hair.

He tried carrying heavy crates past you like they weighed nothing.

He laughed louder when you were nearby. He even took his shirt off for absolutely no reason... Not that he wore one that often anyway.

Yet..you barely glanced at him.

Ace was seriously losing his mind.

So he went to Marco.

“She’s immune,” Ace whispered dramatically. “My charm isn’t working.”

Marco didn’t even look up from his book.

“Maybe she’s busy.”

“No,” Ace insisted. “She’s ignoring me on purpose.”

Marco shrugged. “Then try something else.”

Ace frowned. “Like what?”

Marco smirked. “Oh I don't know..Try being helpful.”

The next day, you were sweeping the deck.

Ace appeared beside you with another broom.

You blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” he insisted.

You shrugged and kept sweeping.

Ace swept too.

Pretty Badly...

He kept bumping into things. He kept sweeping the same spot you were sweeping.

And he kept glancing at you like a confused golden retriever.

But you didn’t tell him to leave.

And that was enough.

Like come on that's progress!

Over the next few days, Ace helped with everything you did. Or at least tried..

You washed dishes? He dried those dishes and put them away.

You organized supplies? He helped organize supplies and made it go more smoothly.

You carried crates? He carried three at once. Definitely not trying to show off.....definitely not.

And slowly… you started talking to him.Not much. Just little things...but the company was nice.

Ace lit up every time.

He would grin when you laughed. He’d blush when your hands brushed.

He even stared at you like you were the sun when he thought you weren't looking.

And you finally started noticing him.

Really noticing him....

Ace helped you finish your chore, hands brushing yours, cheeks pink, trying so hard to impress you without being obvious.

When you finished, he cleared his throat.

“So… uh… I like being around you.”

You smiled glancing at him “I know.”

He blinked. “You… do?”

“Yeah. You’re not very subtle.”

Ace’s jaw dropped.

“I- I thought you didn’t notice me at all!”

You shrugged.

“I noticed. I just wanted to see how long it would take you to say something.”

Ace stared at you mouth agape with this look of betrayed.

“You were testing me?!”

You grinned. “Maybe.”

He groaned dramatically, flopping onto a crate.

"Oh you’re evil...”

You nudged his knee. “ So do you want to take me out or not?”

Ace sat up so fast he almost fell.

“Yes! Yes I do!”

You laughed, and Ace’s heart nearly burst.

~~~

~Luffy

Luffy didn’t realize he was in love at first. He's never really care about 'dating'.

He just knew he liked being around you.

A lot.

Like… a lot a lot.

He’d plop down beside you during meals. He’d stretch his arms across the deck just to poke your shoulder.

He’d call your name first every time he saw something cool. He noticed he smiled whenever you walked into a room.

But you?

You barely reacted.

You treated him like…a normal crewmate.

Not special..not any different..not someone you were supposed to pay attention to.

And Luffy didn’t understand why that made his chest feel weird.

Luffy’s first solution was simple:

If you weren’t noticing him…he’d just get closer.

So he started:

- sitting right next to you

- leaning his whole body weight on you

- wrapping his arms around your waist when he was bored

- resting his chin on your shoulder

- following you around the ship like a lost puppy

You’d gently push him off.

“Luffy, I’m trying to work.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He’d step back.

For three seconds.

Then he’d be right behind you again.

You didn’t yell. You didn't start blushing....You didn’t even tease him.

You just… kept doing your thing.

Luffy frowned.

This wasn’t working.

Luffy thought maybe you just didn’t know how cool he was.

So he started showing off.

He lifted heavy crates with one hand. He would stretch across the entire deck.

He fought a giant fish and dragged it onboard...He balanced on the railing with one foot.

He did flips.. and tricks...He did everything short of setting himself on fire.

You glanced over once.

“Be careful.”

Then went back to your task.

Luffy deflated like a balloon...

Luffy’s last idea was foolproof.

Food..

Food fixes everything..So he started bringing you snacks.

“Here! Sanji made this! It’s good!”

You took it politely..said thank you..ate it.

And then?

You went right back to what you were doing.

Luffy stared at you, confused, holding an empty plate..like this wasn't what he thought was gonna happen.

“…Why isn’t she looking at me?” he whispered to himself.

One afternoon, you were tying down rope on the deck when Luffy plopped down beside you, legs crossed..staring at you intensely.

You didn’t look up.

So he leaned closer.

Still nothing.

He leaned closer.

Still nothing.

He leaned so close his nose almost touched your cheek.

You finally sighed. “Luffy… what are you doing?”

He blurted it out without thinking:

“Why don’t you look at me the way I look at you?”

You froze.

Luffy’s eyes were big, honest, confused, a little sad.

“I like you,” he said simply. “A lot. But you don’t… you don’t look at me.”

You blinked. “Luffy… I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

He tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because you act like that with everyone.”

Luffy frowned. “No I don’t.”

“You hug everyone.”

“Yeah, but I hug you more.”

“You cling to everyone.”

“Not like I cling to you.”

"You don't normally share food tho...”

“mhm and I give you the best bites.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

Then he said, very softly:

“I want you to notice me.”

Your heart did something stupid.

“…Luffy,” you said gently, “I do notice you.”

He blinked.

“Really?”

You nodded.

He broke into the biggest, brightest, sunniest grin you’d ever seen.

“Then- then-does that mean you like me too?”

You smiled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Luffy practically launched himself at you, wrapping you in a tight, warm hug.

“GOOD!” he said, burying his face in your shoulder. “Because I wanna be with you all the time!”

You laughed, hugging him back.

“I kinda figured.”

Luffy pulled back just enough to beam at you.

“Then we’re dating now!”

You blinked. “Just like that?”

“Yep!”

He grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together.

And this time?

You squeezed back.

The first time, he almost asks you out

Pops has the crew gathered on deck as you sail towards the next island, a winter island this time. You can almost see it in the distance, leaning over Ace’s shoulder to get a better view, as your father talks about the plan. Your division’s commander leans back against you, causing you to almost fall as he laughs. 

Marco leans over and whispers something to Ace, keeping his laugh going for another minute. God I could listen to that laugh forever. He bumps into you before leaning his head towards your ear, ready to pass Marco’s joke along. 

You’re both laughing as he leans away and it takes a second to catch yourself staring at his lips before you quickly look up to his eyes. 

As Pops finishes going over the plan, the group begins to disperse. Ace asks you about something related to your next task but you’re not listening, eyes back onto his lips as they move. Quickly faking something you hope makes sense as a response, you move your eyes up to his. “Yes, with the supplies we get on this next island, I should be done with my project within a week.” 

Hoping your response was in line with what he asked, you forgot what you even said when you catch his eyes on your lips. He’s much more shameless being caught in the act as he slowly looks back up to your eyes, taking in every detail of your face on his way up. 

“Thatch was actually telling me about this cute cafe on this island. Said it’s a pretty good date spot…” The panic rises in your chest from the confidence in his eyes. 

“Oh haha we should send you out to go get some food from the cafe, since you’ll be the only one who doesn’t need a coat.” He gives you a lop-sided smile and furrows his eyebrows as you gently punch his shoulder. 

Thanks for the date spot, Thatch, but I guess today is not the day.  

The second time, he’d go anywhere with you  

The crew is gathered around the table in the kitchen, enjoying the dinner Thatch made. Everyone’s laughing, having lots of side conversation, when Deuce suddenly grabs everyone’s attention. 

“Okay okay, if we weren’t all in Pops’ crew, what would everyone be doing?” Multiple people respond at once, everyone excitingly talking to their crewmates closest to them. Both you and Ace listen as one of the pirates sitting near you two tells you about his childhood dreams. 

When it’s your turn to answer, you talk about the love you had for one of your hobbies as a child. About how your family helped nurture it, how Pops ensured you had everything you needed to pursue the hobby and follow your dreams. About how he caught you and gave you a home on his crew and a purpose when your dreams failed. 

The entire time you’re talking, Ace’s heart aches for the younger you. He watches the wonder in your eyes as you speak, and can’t help the hearts forming in his eyes. Most of the table has turned to you as you spoke. Being the captain’s daughter, no one has ever wondered how you came to be a Whitebeard Pirate, but few had known you as a child. 

Once you’re done with your dreams, the table collectively turns towards Ace, waiting for his response. “If I wasn’t with this crew, I’d be wherever you are.” The hearts in his eyes are more prevalent and the crew nods their support, Deuce and Marco both subtly nodding at Ace. 

The same panic you’ve experienced before comes back as you respond. “Oh of course! Anywhere with the crew is the ideal plan! I had only meant if the crew was never formed!” There’s a chorus of groans as you watch Ace’s smile tighten with hidden pain. 

Thanks for the opening, Deuce, but I guess today is not the day. 

The third time, he’s caught on to your father’s plans  

Ace’s face immediately drops the seriousness as you both walk out of Pops’ office. His face lights up as he turns towards you and cracks the first joke. Mimicking your father’s voice, he says, “Listen up, you two. No more funny business. We have serious plans on this next island.” 

The laugh that escapes your mouth makes Ace’s smile grow twice as large as you add to his joke. “You’re my second division commander, Ace, you have to lead us to victory here.” 

The glowing smile on your face grows Ace’s confidence as he tries to advance your father’s hidden agenda. “And you, (y/n), you have to fall for him, I set you up, now fall into the trap.” Ace hopes it works this time. There’s no one around and nothing you need to do. Just fall for me please, like I’ve fallen for you.

The familiar panic rises as you try to keep the light joking mood, oblivious to the fact that Ace is serious. “Oh, and make sure Marco knows to fall into the trap I set for him. Wouldn’t him and Thatch be cute?” The smile on your face stays, enjoying the teasing you and Ace get up to. 

Looking ahead, you don’t notice Ace’s smile falter as he wishes you knew he wasn’t joking. 

Thanks for the wingman support, Pops, but I guess today is not the day. 

The fourth time, his gift isn’t appreciated  

The island the crew is docked on today is a peaceful one, for once. Pops sends you and Ace out to pick up some supplies for the ships. That’s how you find yourself window shopping in an area away from the shops you should be at. 

Ace points out things in almost every stall, most of them funny, some things he thinks you’d like. You’re pointing things out, too, mostly things you genuinely like or that you know Ace would find funny. 

As you walk past a jewerly stall, a specific piece catches your eye and you linger on it a bit longer. You don’t say a word about it but Ace catches the look in your eye, the way you hold it like it means more than it should. He knows you want it but you won’t even point it out to him. 

You’re headed towards the next stall when Ace pulls out some berry Jozu gave him for this very reason. He hands it to the stall keeper as he grabs the piece you were eyeing. Catching back up to you, he grabs your arm and spins you back towards him.  

“I saw you looking at this, so I got it for you.” As you hold out your hand, Ace very carefully places it in and looks up at the adoration in your eyes. The panic rises again and you stump out that adoration for the man standing in front of you. 

Letting out a laugh, you try to lighten the mood again after seeing the love in his eyes. “Oh geez, now I have to go get you that elephant head statue!” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes this time as you can’t believe he got you something so beautiful. But you don’t let it show as you bump into him and head to the next stall. 

Thanks for the money, Jozu, but I guess today is not the day. 

The fifth time, Marco helps and fails  

Working through your normal day to day tasks on the ship, you’re currently taking inventory of one of the pantries. “(Y/N)!!” A glass jar of rice drops out of your hands, spilling everywhere right before you run out of the pantry to see why Marco is yelling across the ship for you. 

The second you run into the medbay, he just smirks as he pulls the door shut, locking it. You rub your eyes and groan, looking over to see Ace leaning against the wall. His usual smile absent as he begins to talk to you. 

“Hey (y/n), I’m sorry Marco trapped you but I wanted to ta-” Your ragged breath and folded over body stops Ace, and he moves closer to you. 

“Geez, the pranks are getting out of hand. Joking on deck is one thing, but to trap both of us?” Ace is at your side, your face in his hands and he’s desperately trying to stop your hyperventilating. Oh no no no. Note to self, she’s scared of being trapped. 

His hands move your face up, your eyes now on him as you start to giggle through the tears. “You’re going to step the medbay on fire, Ace.” He then realizes that the fear of you being scared set his flames loose and he starts to calm them as he eases at the sound of your laughter. 

Caring more about you being okay, Ace decides his serious conversation can wait. 

Thanks for the emergency fakeout and use of the medbay, Marco, but I guess today is not the day. 

The sixth time, you can’t stop him  

Ace arrives in his office with two coffees. The confusion reads on his face as he spins around a few times, wondering why you aren’t waiting for him like you always are. Your normal chair near his desk sits empty and the room doesn’t even have your normal smell yet. 

The coffees are set on his desk as he heads out to find you. The confusion morphs into worry as he finds Marco and asks where you are. “I haven’t seen her yet today. Maybe Pops has her on a job.” 

The worry escalates as Ace finds Thatch and receives a similar answer. “She didn’t get breakfast but she never eats breakfast so I figured she was with you. She might be in bed, ask her while she’s stuck there if she’s not feeling well.” 

Getting similar answers from every crew member he sees on the way to your cabin, Ace’s worry progressively worsens. No one has answers but everyone is urging him to ask you out while you’re most likely stuck in bed, not able to run from him. Today should not be the day if she’s sick. It can’t be the day. 

Ace throws your door open, completely out of breath. “There you are. Are you sick? What do you need?” He closes the door as he moves closer to your bed, where you’re laying tucked under multiple blankets with a cool washcloth on your forehead. 

The smile that shows on your face is smaller and kinder than Ace is used to. “Geez, you couldn’t stand to be apart for even a day?” While your words are teasing, Ace thinks you sound genuinely happy to have him here and that’s all he needs to hear. 

“No. I can’t stand to ever be apart from you. You make me feel like there’s a reason I was born. I love you, (y/n).” The smile on your face grows as Ace is checking your temperature and pulling his waterbottle out of his pocket to hand to you. “Pops may have set a trap for you, but I fell the day he put you in my division.” 

His hand on your forehead is heating up from the nerves surfacing, but you hold his hand there, happy to have the heat, especially if it’s from him. “I love you, Ace. Think Pops will let you stay here today? I think I need your heat to feel better.” 

Ace babbles about how he doesn’t care what Pops thinks, he knows he’d agree that you need to be better. Losing his boots and hat, Ace climbs on top of your bed. “Where would the heat help?” You don’t answer, you just roll yourself over so your body is draped over his. His body freezes as your weight lands, and he fights the flames that threaten to appear. 

As carefully as he can, trying desperately not to light you on fire, he places his hands on your back and starts rubbing one slowly along your spine. Your breath starts to even out after a few minutes and Ace relaxes as you doze off for a bit. I guess today is the day. 

-%-%-%-%-%-%-%-

You wake a few hours later, body on top of Ace’s as he snores under you. You’re feeling better and you push yourself up to hover slightly above Ace. Running a gentle figer across the details of his face, he stirs slightly. His hand finds your shoulder as you trace the outline of his lips, curling into a smile while you’re tracing. Your lips find his nose just before he opens his eyes. 

Maybe during that first mission with Sabo—when he pulled you out of a collapsing tunnel with smoke in his lungs and soot in his hair. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you during meetings, when everyone else spoke over each other and his eyes quietly sought yours like they were the only steady thing in the room.

Regardless, you’d never told him.

Instead, you wrote letters. Quiet, aching, folded-up things in the corners of notebooks and between pages of Revolutionary Army maps. Pages filled with things you could never say aloud. Sometimes it was just a sentence. Sometimes full confessions. But you never gave them to him. You didn’t need to. Writing them was enough.

Tonight, the base was quiet. Outside, a soft breeze shifted through the trees, and the only sound in your room was the scratch of your pen.

You were curled up at your desk, writing again. Candlelight flickered beside you. You didn’t hear the knock. You didn’t notice the door creak open.

“Y/N?”

You jolted. “Koala—!”

She froze in the doorway. Her eyes dropped to the open page on your desk before you could hide it.

“Wait. What is that?”

“Nothing.” You slammed the notebook shut, your voice too sharp.

Koala blinked. Then her eyes narrowed.

“…That’s your handwriting.”

“So?”

She stepped in, shutting the door behind her. “So that was definitely Sabo’s name.”

You groaned. “Koala—please.”

She raised a brow. “Is that a letter to him?”

You turned away. “It’s not for him. I mean—it is, but—I wasn’t gonna give it to him.”

A beat of silence passed.

“…You’ve written more than one, haven’t you.”

You didn’t answer.

She came closer, her voice gentler now. “Y/N.”

Your shoulders dropped.

“It’s just… easier to write it than say it,” you whispered.

Koala sat on the edge of your bed. “You really like him, don’t you?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. I do.”

Your voice cracked a little when you said it. You didn’t even mean to. You covered your mouth, eyes burning suddenly with tears you hadn’t expected.

You hated this—how hard it was to hold it all in sometimes.

“I like him so much it hurts,” you confessed. “And he doesn’t even know.”

Another voice answered:

“Yes. I do.”

⸻

Your head whipped toward the door.

Sabo stood there, hand still on the knob. He looked as if he’d frozen in place. Behind him, the hall was dark—he’d come alone. No footsteps, no warning. Just his silhouette framed in low light.

You stared. “Sabo—?”

He stepped in slowly. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I came to return Koala’s map notes. I wasn’t—” He cut off, brow furrowed, and looked at you. “You really meant it?”

Your throat felt tight. “I—I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I was,” he said softly. “Every word.”

You turned to Koala, but she was already slipping out the door with a sheepish shrug. “Sorry!” she mouthed before vanishing.

Now it was just the two of you.

“I didn’t plan to say that,” you said, voice trembling. “I just… It’s been a long time. I’ve been trying to keep it in.”

Sabo’s steps were slow. Careful.

“How long?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Since Baltigo.”

“That long?”

You nodded.

He moved closer. You felt him pause just beside you.

“…Why didn’t you tell me?”

You hesitated. “Because we’re in the middle of a war, Sabo. And you’re important. And brave. And reckless. And always getting yourself into danger—”

“That’s not a reason not to tell me.”

You looked at him then.

His eyes were soft. No teasing, no judgment. Just that same steady, thoughtful Sabo you’d always known—only now closer than he’d ever felt before.

“I was scared it would ruin everything,” you said quietly.

He gave a small, almost broken laugh. “I’ve been scared of that too.”

You blinked. “What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/N.”

You stared, stunned.

He gave a small, sheepish shrug. “I never wrote letters or anything, but… if I had, I probably would’ve filled a hundred pages by now.”

Your breath caught. “You really mean that?”

He looked away, ears turning red. “Yeah. Every word.”

A laugh broke from your lips—half disbelief, half relief. “You idiot.”

He looked back at you with a faint smirk. “Says the one who actually wrote letters.”

You let out a shaky laugh.

And suddenly it felt all real.

——

A few days later, Sabo knocked on your door. When you opened it, he was holding something out.

Your notebook.

“The one with the letters,” he said with a grin.

Your eyes widened. “Where did you—?!”

“I didn’t read them,” he promised. “I swear. But… if you want me to, I will.”

You stared.

Then you reached out—and flipped to the last page. Your handwriting was still there. The ink fresh. The one you’d been writing the night he overheard.

You tore it out, folded it neatly, and handed it to him.

He blinked. “Just this one?”

“For now.”

He looked at it like it was something precious. “Can I read it in front of you?”

You nodded.

He opened it slowly.

You watched his eyes move across the page—watched the flicker of a smile, the subtle shift of his expression. By the time he finished, he was quiet.

Then, carefully, he looked at you.

“Do you want a letter too?”

You blinked. “You’d write one?”

He leaned in, closer than ever before. “I’d write one every day.”

And when he kissed you, it felt like the answer to every unsent word you’d ever written.

——

Ace

It was a quiet afternoon on the Moby Dick. The sun hung lazily above the sea, casting golden warmth over the deck. Laughter echoed faintly from the other side of the ship, but Ace wasn’t with the others. He sat alone near the back, arms crossed over his knees, a troubled expression clouding his usually bright face.

He’d overheard a few new crewmates whispering—again.

“Roger’s son, huh? No wonder he’s so reckless.”

“I still don’t get why Whitebeard lets him wear the mark.”

Their voices replayed in his head, sharp as knives. No matter how far he came, how hard he fought, those words always lingered. Was he just his father’s shadow? Was he even supposed to exist?

You found yourself talking to Marco later as you leaned against the rail, eyes watching the horizon.

“You think Ace is okay?” you asked softly.

Marco raised a brow. “You’ve been watching him all day.”

You hesitated, then sighed. “He always looks like he’s trying to prove something. Like he doesn’t believe he’s enough. I just wish he’d let himself feel… loved.”

“You’re in love with him, huh?” Marco said with a smirk.

You didn’t even deny it.

“Yes. I love him.” Your voice dropped. You hadn’t noticed Ace was nearby—standing still behind the corner, frozen as the words sank in.

——

Ace kept tossing fire between his fingers like nothing happened, but his heartbeat wouldn’t slow down. She loves me? The words played over and over in his head.

He approached casually, as if he hadn’t just overheard something that shook him to his core.

“What are you two whispering about?” he asked, flopping down beside you, a teasing grin on his face.

You jumped a little. “Ace! Uh—nothing really. Just… talking.”

Marco snorted and walked off, giving you two space.

Ace tilted his head, pretending to look bored. “Sounded like something deep.”

You hesitated, then offered him a gentle look. “I just… worry about you sometimes.”

His smile faltered slightly. “You don’t have to.”

“But I do,” you insisted. “You’re always trying to be the strongest, the most reliable… You don’t need to carry it all alone.”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes dropped to his hands.

“Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve been born at all,” he said quietly, voice barely audible over the waves.

Your heart clenched. “Ace…”

“I hear the things people say. About my father. About me. It never really stops.”

You touched his arm gently. “You’re not your father.”

He glanced up at you, eyes guarded.

“You’re you, Ace. I care about you because of who you are—not because of your name, and definitely not in spite of it.”

⸻

Ace couldn’t sleep that night. He paced the deck in the dark, wrestling with your words. He’d heard so many lies in his life. So many people who wanted something because of the blood in his veins—or wanted nothing to do with him because of it.

But your voice was different.

He found you in the galley, wrapping up a late-night snack. You turned, surprised.

“Ace? You okay?”

He looked… unsure. And for someone like Ace, that was rare.

“I heard what you said to Marco earlier,” he admitted, leaning against the doorway.

You froze, eyes wide. “You… you did?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, but it was hollow. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just… kinda happened.”

You shifted awkwardly. “Well… I meant it.”

He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I’m not my father, Y/N. But sometimes I think people only ever see him when they look at me. Like I’m just waiting to become him.”

You walked up to him, eyes soft.

“You’re not him. You never will be.”

Ace stared at you, caught in the sincerity of your gaze.

“I love you,” you said, voice steady. “Not because you’re Gol D. Roger’s son. Not because you’re Whitebeard’s commander. But because you’re Ace. And that’s enough.”

Ace stared at you, his eyes flickering with something raw and real. Then he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed. “Not just because you see me… but because when you do, I finally feel like I deserve to be here.”

Your heart swelled as you wrapped your arms around him.

“You do, Ace. You always have.”

And for once, he let himself believe it.

——

Law

The Polar Tang was unusually quiet that evening, save for the hum of the ocean against the hull. You sat in the galley with Shachi and Penguin, half-listening to them banter while organizing mission notes. A familiar name drifted into the conversation.

“I’m just saying,” Shachi smirked, “if Captain has a secret admirer, it’s gotta be someone on board. Who else could handle that grump 24/7?”

“Yeah, right. Can you imagine anyone confessing to Law?” Penguin snorted.

Your hand froze over the page, heart thudding. You gave a weak chuckle, trying to stay casual.

“…I think he’s different than people think,” you said quietly.

The two fell silent, glancing at each other before looking back at you. “Different how?” Shachi asked.

You stared down at your notes, unsure why you were still speaking. “He’s cold sometimes, yeah, but there’s a reason. He’s… carrying a lot. But underneath that, he’s kind. Steady. I admire him. I love him, actually.”

You didn’t notice the door slightly ajar—or the shadow that had paused just outside. Law, on his way to the infirmary, heard every word. He didn’t move. Just stood there, stunned, your voice echoing quietly in his chest like a scalpel carving into old scar tissue.

——

Later that night, you found yourself sitting near the back of the ship, watching the stars shimmer through the porthole. You didn’t expect company—until his footsteps neared.

“Working late?” Law asked, standing behind you.

You turned, startled. “Oh. Hey. Yeah. Just… couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t sit. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and added, “Neither could I.”

You nodded slowly. There was something unusual in his gaze—measured, intense. Like he was holding back words with every breath.

“I heard you,” he said bluntly. “In the galley.”

Your heart stopped. “What?”

He didn’t look away. “You said you loved me.”

The silence stretched long between you. Your breath caught in your throat.

“I didn’t mean for you to—”

“You meant it though,” Law interrupted. “Didn’t you?”

“…Yeah,” you whispered. “I did.”

He stepped forward. Just one step, but it felt like a line being crossed. His voice softened. “Why?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Why me?” His tone was flat, but his eyes betrayed the storm behind them. “Why would anyone… love me?”

You swallowed hard. “You’re strong. Not just in power—emotionally. You always show up. You carry so much but never drop any of it. And you… you protect people. You saved me more than once, Law. You care, even when you act like you don’t.”

He looked away sharply.

“You don’t have to earn it,” you added quietly. “Love doesn’t work like that.”

His breath hitched.

Law didn’t answer for a long time. Then, quietly:

“You sound like him.”

You blinked. “Who?”

He sat down at last, elbows on his knees, eyes far away. “Corazon. He told me once, I didn’t need a reason to be loved. That someone could love me just because.”

“…He was right.”

Law’s hand twitched. “I hated hearing it back then. Thought it was a lie. After he died… I convinced myself I wasn’t meant for that kind of thing. Not after what I did to survive.”

You looked at him—truly looked. His jaw was tense, but his shoulders were slumped like someone carrying too many ghosts.

“Sengoku told me, after everything… that Corazon loved me like family. And I kept asking myself why. Why me? Why would he care so much? I’ve been so bad to him. Even now, I still don’t know.”

Law leaned back against the wall, head tilted up toward the ceiling.

“You know,” he said, “I used to think if I kept everything locked up, it wouldn’t hurt. That if no one knew what I felt, no one could use it against me.”

“That’s a lonely way to live,” you whispered.

“It was.” His voice was quieter now. “Until you.”

You inhaled sharply, heart catching in your throat.

“I’ve been watching you too, Y/N. I always noticed when you sat closer during meals. Or brought coffee when I was holed up for hours. You always knew when to say something—and when not to.”

He looked over at you now, eyes unreadable but softer than you’d ever seen.

“You’re not a secret I want to keep locked away anymore.”

The words hit you like a wave. “Law…”

He stood slowly, stepped in front of you, and reached out—hesitating just for a breath—before his fingers gently cupped your face.

“I’m not good at this,” he said. “But I want to try. With you.”

Your eyes stung with tears you hadn’t realized were forming. “You’re already doing just fine.”

His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, then fuller, deeper. You melted into him, and he kissed you like someone who finally let the gates fall. When he pulled away, he stayed close, forehead resting against yours.

“No more secrets,” he whispered.

——

Zoro

The fight had been brutal. Zoro, despite his immense strength and endurance, had taken a hit he couldn’t recover from quickly. Blood stained his clothes, and the crew had rushed to stabilize him, quickly patching him up as best they could on the ship.

You were a wreck. Despite being part of the crew for so long, despite the battles, seeing him hurt like this… it was too much for you to handle. You were pacing back and forth near the medical room, your heart in your throat as your mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Nami and Robin stood nearby, trying to comfort you, but nothing could settle the growing panic inside.

“I—I can’t do this,” you muttered, wiping away the fresh tears that had formed. “What if—what if he doesn’t make it?”

Robin placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her voice soothing, but there was an undercurrent of concern there too. “Zoro’s strong. He’s not going anywhere.”

But you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop worrying, couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Your chest ached at the thought of him not making it through this.

Nami’s voice, usually so steady, was now quieter, though there was still a reassuring edge. “You need to calm down. He’s tough. Zoro will pull through.”

But no matter how much they tried to comfort you, the fear was too overwhelming. You couldn’t stop thinking about the worst outcome—what it would be like to lose him. How he was always so strong, always so dependable, and yet, this time, you weren’t sure it would be enough.

“Please,” you whispered through your sobs, barely audible but full of pain. “Please don’t leave me, Zoro. I love you… I love you so much. I can’t lose you.”

You didn’t realize how loudly you’d said it. You were too caught up in the panic, in the fear of losing him, that the words just spilled out without thinking.

In the shadows of the hallway, hidden from your view, Zoro had heard everything. He had been leaning against the doorframe, trying to muster the strength to stand up on his own after the injury, when your words reached him. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly. But when you repeated it, in that broken, desperate tone, he felt the weight of your confession hit him like a freight train.

He stood there, frozen for a long moment, a strange mix of emotions swirling within him. His heart thudded in his chest, and for a moment, everything felt overwhelming—more so than the injury itself.

——

Zoro had managed to make his way to the deck quietly, not wanting to disturb you. He needed a moment to process what he’d heard. But it wasn’t just the words that had shaken him—it was how much they revealed. How deeply you cared, how much you were hurting, how afraid you were for him.

He’d always known you cared for him. You had always been there for him, quietly supporting him, and he’d grown fond of your presence more than he ever intended. But hearing it like this, in a moment of vulnerability, brought something to the surface that he had spent so long suppressing.

The wound on his side throbbed painfully, but it wasn’t the physical pain that weighed him down. It was your words. The quiet admission that you loved him. Zoro leaned against the railing, trying to clear his head, but the ache in his chest wasn’t going away.

Meanwhile, you had secluded yourself in your room. The crew had calmed down enough to leave you some space, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Zoro. You kept replaying the words over and over in your head, cursing yourself for letting them slip. You didn’t want to burden him.

But what if he didn’t feel the same? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you hugged your knees to your chest, your face buried in your arms.

——

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at your door. You didn’t want to face anyone, but the soft voice that called your name made you hesitate.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

Your heart jumped in your chest. You didn’t have to ask who it was. You stood and opened the door to find Zoro standing there, looking tired but determined. His clothes were stained with blood, and his usual carefree posture was slightly off, but there was something in his eyes that made you freeze.

“You shouldn’t be up yet,” you said, voice cracking. “You’re injured. You need rest.”

Zoro smirked, but there was no usual arrogance in it—just a tired, soft kind of affection. “I’m fine. I’m not the type to stay in bed when I’m still breathing.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Zoro cut you off before you could speak.

“Listen,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, “you don’t need to apologize for what you said earlier.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Zoro, I didn’t—”

“Don’t deny it.” Zoro took a step closer, his hand reaching out and gently lifting your chin so that your eyes met. “I heard you.”

You swallowed, heart racing. His gaze was intense, but it wasn’t cold. It wasn’t distant. It was something more—something you hadn’t dared to hope for. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to make you feel awkward.”

Zoro’s fingers brushed lightly against your skin, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to apologize. I just—” he hesitated, his usual tough exterior faltering for just a moment, “I need to say it too.”

You blinked, your heart thumping painfully in your chest. “Say what?”

Zoro’s eyes softened, his usual guarded nature slipping just slightly. “I’ve known for a while now. I’ve just been too stubborn to admit it to myself. But I care about you too. I think… I think I love you.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. You were both standing there, both finally facing what had always been there but had remained unsaid.

“I—I love you too, Zoro,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I was just too scared to say it.”

Zoro’s lips tugged into a faint, almost shy smile. Then, without another word, he closed the distance between you and kissed you softly, his hand still gently holding your face. The kiss was slow, tender, filled with everything that had been left unspoken for so long.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. “I’m not going anywhere. Not if you’ll have me.”

And at that moment, everything fell into place.

——