«(Y/N)…what’s uuup, my girl…»

Nami slumps down on the chair next to you, right at the counter as the bartender slides her another beer. Your gaze is still far away, lost in the other side of the room. It’s always lost wherever he goes.

Nami tries to catch your attention by slurring something else behind you, but you don’t hear. Until she bumps your shoulder and waves a hand in front of you.

«Hey, Earth to (Y/N)?!» she says.

You jolt a little and turn around, finally acknowledging her presence. And oh, she’s drunk. You would’ve guessed it the moment she came up to you and greeted you like that, but her red cheeks are much more telling. And her semi-closed eyes. And the small smirk on her face or how wobbly she looks.

«Nami, are you okay?» you ask, slightly concerned.

«Never been better!» she gives you a not very reassuring thumbs up, before her elbow slips on the counter and she almost smashes her head.

You chuckle and take a sip of your own beer «Maybe this is the last one for you, okay?»

«C’mon, I’m fine! I’ve got high tolerance» she says.

You let out a small laugh, then your face slowly turns to look at him again. And your smile falls a little.

«Watcha lookin at?» Nami asks, and rests her chin on your shoulder to take a look from behind.

She doesn’t get it. She looks at you, confused. If she was sober, she would‘ve caught it immediately. But as of now, she needs a little help.

«So…» you speak low, more out of sadness than privacy «Luffy and Vivi, uh?»

What made your smile falter before was seeing Luffy and Vivi so close together on the couch. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, laughing together as she bumped him playfully. Sometimes she puts her head on his shoulder just to giggle some more.

You’ve already figured it out, but it hurts still. You absolutely love Vivi, she’s a great friend and you’re already sad thinking about parting ways with her once you reach Alabasta.

But you can’t help but wish to be in her place next to Luffy. You want to be held like that by him, and rest your head on his shoulder, and you want him to look at you the way he looks at her. The lingering and caring looks they exchanged, the little touches, the smiles they reserved only for each other. Luffy and Vivi have something that you and Luffy don’t have.

And it hurts because you really are in love with your captain.

«Oh yeah, Luffy and Vivi, they’re cute, aren’t they?» Nami chirps with a little smile.

«Yeah, I’m happy for them…» you murmur, still looking at them.

Nami nods in approval against your shoulder, but then her face turns puzzled.

«Wait, happy for what?» she asks.

The confused tone takes you by surprise, so you finally turn around to face her properly.

«What do you mean? Happy that they’ve…you know, something going on obviously» you say, as if it was obvious.

And then, against your every prediction, Nami just bursts out laughing. She laughs to the point of slapping the counter and making bottles of sake clink. You stare at her in shock, eyes wide.

«You! You think that Luffy and Vivi like each other?! Do you have a crush on Luffy?!» she exclaims, definitely too loud for your taste. Some patrons turn around to look at her, and you almost slap a hand on her mouth.

«Shhh! Keep it down! And no, I-I don’t like Luffy, I was just making an observation! A not-so-weird observation!»

«Oh geez, no! Absolutely not! Luffy and Vivi- oh shit this is so funny!» Nami can barely keep herself together.

You roll your eyes and scoff «Nami! C’mon, it’s not that far-fetched they just-»

«No, no it’s funny because…» Nami wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, and you wish you could drain all the alcohol from her system.

Then, Nami takes a deep breath, and between a laugh and another, she finally manages to wheeze:

«It’s funny because Luffy doesn’t like Vivi, he likes you!»

Suddenly, your jaw drops and your eyes blink a few times. Your expression drives Nami to the point of tears as she holds her stomach to laugh.

«What?» you whisper, somehow Nami catches that.

«Oh (Y/N) you don’t know how-many-times» she slaps her hand on the counter to punctuate her words «Luffy came to me saying things like “(Y/N) makes me feel funny, do you think she ate a Devil Fruit that makes people’s guts feel weird?”. And then he’d be like “I really like hanging out with you and Vivi, but with (Y/N) it’s weird but in a very good way, makes me feel happy, you know what I’m saying?”. Luffy is in love with you and he doesn’t even know it! Don’t get me wrong, he’s attached to Vivi but he told me she feels like a sister or something, and there was this one time he turned around and told me OUT OF THE BLUE that he thought you had a nice dress on a particular day and how your smile is-»

You let Nami talk the entire time, clutching your pint of beer as your heart drums in your chest. It beats so fast that you think it’s about to just pop off. And your cheeks burn like they never did before and your legs tremble. Maybe the fact that you’re also drunk is not helping. So, you don’t even realize that you’re about to shout.

«Nami, why the fuck didn’t you tell me that Luffy likes me back!»

Nami shrugs, dangling left and right a bit «It’s not like he straight up told me, I don’t even think Luffy himself knows that he’s in love. And plus, I don’t know, I guess something about thinking that you and Luffy had to figure it out alone or something like that…»

Then, Nami miraculously forms a thought in the haze of her drunkenness. Her mouth’s now agape with surprise.

«Wait, so you do like him! You just admitted it!» she points a finger at you, laughing in your face shamelessly.

Realizing your mistake, you slap a hand on your mouth and hide your face in your palms, trying to disassociate. This conversation just keeps getting more embarrassing. But after a while, you and Nami make an attempt at talking about it a bit more seriously and thoughtfully. You admit your feelings for Luffy to her, and how your mood was down these last days because you were sure that he and Vivi were into each other. Nami recollects herself a bit and reassures you that, despite Luffy being oblivious about it, she’s certain that what he feels is love and that he just has to realize it and make a move.

Now with a new spark in your eyes, you turb around and look back at the couch where Luffy is sitting at. He’s still close to Vivi, but when you turn around, it doesn’t take you long to lock eyes with him. Because Luffy was already looking at you with the kindest smile.

The room around you fades for a moment as you and Luffy stare at each other, lost in your eyes. And then, he waves at you happily and gestures to come sit with him and Vivi.

A small smile makes its way on your face, and Nami playfully pushes you towards Luffy’s direction, in encouragement.

So you get up, smile back at Nami, and make your way through the crowded inn. As you reach for your friends, Vivi is already scooching to make space for you between herself and Luffy, patting the empty spot.

And so you sit between your friends, next to Luffy, feeling flustered whenever your knee would bump against his and trying to stop your heart from reaching when you realized that despite your thighs pressing against each other he didn’t make any attempt at moving his leg away from you. It’s a small thing, compared to what Nami revealed to you. But it makes you feel funny inside and this is even more beautiful.

---

It’s late at night now, and you and the Straw Hats are walking back to the Merry to sleep. Well, “walking” is a euphemism, since none of you can do it straight. Nami passed out so she’s being carried bridal-style by Sanji, who’s barely able to do so only because his legs are ridiculously trained. Otherwise he would already be on the floor due to how much he drank. Zoro’s walking in every direction, holding Chopper with an arm as he uses him as a dumbbell. Fortunately, Chopper doesn’t seem to mind since he’s giggling the whole time. Usopp is trying to tell Vivi one of his fake stories, something even more non-sensical than usual, but she’s so out of her mind that she believes him right off the bat.

And you, well, you’re walking some meters behind them as you’re holding up Luffy by his arm. He definitely exaggerated with booze so you wrapped his arm around your shoulders and dragged him out the inn just a couple of minutes before. His head is hanging loosely forwards, his back hunched. You’re shit-faced yourself, but maintained some physical strength to help your captain back to the ship.

And you don’t mind it at all.

«I think that was enough booze for tonight, Luffy» you say with a soft chuckle.

«Mh, ‘mso sleepy…» Luffy mumbles, groaning.

Your hands are holding each other over your left shoulder, to help with balance, but sometimes Luffy gives your fingers a sporadic and affectionate squeeze. He even caresses them a little. His strokes are harsh due to his lack of awareness, but even so, you love each and every time it happens. You adore it.

«Don’t worry, we’re getting back to the Merry specifically to sleep» you say.

«Yahoo» Luffy mumbles, genuinely happy, but you can’t see his smile behind his straw hat as he’s too curved.

The streets are empty and silent, accompanied only by the sound of your crew mates drunken chats and giggles on the front.

«Is (Y/N) over there with the others?» Luffy suddenly asks, weakly pointing a finger towards the silhouettes of your friends.

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled «What?»

«(Y/N)…we didn’t leave her at the inn, right?»

Oh. Luffy is so fucked up as of now, that he doesn’t even recognize you. And you’re so drunk in return, that you decide not to tell him.

«No, I think your friend already hopped on the ship» you reply, trying to alter your tone of voice a little to not ruin this little accidental game.

«Oh good, otherwise I would’ve felt…bad. I mean, no, she never makes me feel bad. Leaving her behind would make me feel bad!»

You gulp down and look away as both you and Luffy’s feet clumsily drag along the street.

«Tell me more about this friend of yours…» you say, uncertain of this gimmick.

«Oh, (Y/N)? Well, she’s my friend of course, as you said. And…well, she has eyes. Like other people, I guess. But her eyes are INSANELY pretty. Sometimes she cries and it makes me upset when she does because tears hide her eyes, and they become red and puffy and I can’t look at them in the same way I like to do when she’s happy. But he smiles a lot, at least with me, and I like it because she has a pretty smile too. And she always laughs at the things I do, and likes to hang out with me when we explore islands. Even if sometimes she gets scared, but that’s nice too because when it happens she clings onto me and it makes me feel so good, like my heart explodes in a nice way. One time she even cooked for me. That sandwich tasted bad but I was so over the moon that she cooked it for me that I ate it in one bite. She’s really cool. Like Nami and Vivi, but…differently»

By the time Luffy finishes his train of thoughts, you’ve already arrived at the Merry. As he was talking and you reached the ship, you stopped and looked at him with your eyebrows arched upwards. Incredulous, but also mesmerized.

And finally, Luffy raises his head and his brown eyes meet yours from behind his curls. He looks down at your lips, and then back in your eyes, his thick eyebrows slightly pointing upwards, giving him that puppy-dog look that makes you weak to the core. You stay like that for a while, faces close, just a few inches apart, both of you grazed by moonlight. As the others have already gotten inside the ship, the only sound audible now is the soft noise of waves hitting the Going Merry. Until Luffy interrupts the silence.

«I feel like you wanna kiss me right now, but all I can think about is that I really wanna kiss (Y/N)»

It takes you so much strength to not stop the game and kiss him right away. But your legs are trembling too much out of emotion and, if one day you and Luffy will actually kiss, to do so when you’re both sober. And maybe when he’s in a state when he can at least recognize you.

So you just nervously lick your lips and then nod.

«Yeah, you’re right, she sounds like a cool person» you say, patting his back a few times.

You back away from each other a little, but you’re still holding him up as you carry Luffy inside the ship.

«Oh yeah. The coolest…» he says.

The next hour is spent with you helping Luffy throw up in a basin. He was suddenly hit by stomach cramps and he basically begged you to stay and help him by squeezing your hand to the point it hurt and kissing your knuckles out of alcohol-induced delirium. You were fine and happy with it until the moment of “letting out” came and you screamed as you held the basin under his head. You kept on assisting him by calmly stroking his dark curls and wiping his sweaty forehead, and by caressing his back up and down. By the time he finished he felt better but was trembling like a leaf, so you held him up again and took him to his bed, were you tucked him under the covers snuggly.

But after you just wished him goodnight and turned around, he stopped you by taking your hand and calling your name.

«Thank you, (Y/N)»

You turned around, smiling back at him.

«Goodnight, Luffy»

The next morning, your memory is hazy. You vaguely remember Nami telling you something weird and laughing about it, and helping Luffy vomit afterwards, but you have no recollection of what she told you and what happened apart from that. Nami doesn’t remember anything herself and not even Luffy.

⊹ ۫ . Boyfriend Luffy who’s completely obsessed with the feeling of your tongue against his. He can never settle for just one kiss. No matter how sweet or innocent the moment is, the second your lips touch his, he makes it his mission to turn it into a full-on makeout. His tongue pushes past your lips, curling around yours with eager, wet strokes that leave you breathless.

But don’t be surprised when he suddenly pulls you down onto his lap. His strong hands grip your hips, yanking you close until you feel the hard, throbbing line of his boner pressing insistently against your clothed cunt.

⊹ ۫ . Boyfriend Luffy loves playing with your boobs whenever he feels needy. The problem (which isn’t really a problem at all) is that he’s always needy.

You could be in the middle of a random island, exploring, laughing, and acting completely normal. Then, in the next second, he’s behind you. His warm chest presses against your back as his hands sneak under your shirt, tugging the fabric up with impatient fingers.

“Let me see ’em, pleaseee…” he murmurs against your neck, voice so desperate and whiny that it sends shivers down your spine. He sounds like he might actually die if you say no. How could you possibly deny him?

⊹ ۫ . Boyfriend Luffy hates it when you wear revealing clothes when you go out. He knows he can’t control himself around you when you look that pretty. Just one glance at your cleavage or the way your skirt rides up and his cock gets rock-hard in his shorts, twitching visibly with every step you take.

He tries to behave, but the best he ever gets is a frantic, through-the-clothes teasing session in the bathroom of whatever establishment you’re in. You drop to your knees and stroke him, licking and sucking at the head until your saliva mixes with his leaking pre-cum, soaking the front of his boxers until they’re dark and sticky. He wants to cum so badly — hips bucking, whiny moans slipping out — but you always stop just before he can finish, tucking him back in with a teasing smile.

Now he’s forced to walk out with wet boxers clinging uncomfortably to his skin, a massive erection still straining against the fabric, and the impossible task of facing his friends without anyone noticing how painfully hard he is.

⊹ ۫ . Boyfriend Luffy isn’t used to having erotic dreams. So when he has his first one about you, it wrecks him.

That’s how you find him in one morning, face buried in his pillow, hips desperately humping the mattress like a needy pup. Soft, broken whimpers spill from his lips as he chases the pleasure you gave him in the dream. His cock drags against the sheets, leaving a wet spot beneath him while he grinds frantically, chasing a release he can’t quite reach (not without your help).

⊹ ۫ . Boyfriend Luffy who even when is buried deep inside your pussy, he can’t keep his mouth and hands off your boobs. They fit so perfectly between his lips that he genuinely believes this is what they were made for.

He’s thrusting into you, stretching you open with every roll of his hips, but his face is smushed happily between your breasts. He sucks on one nipple, moaning around your soft flesh. For a blissful moment he forgets he’s even fucking you, completely lost in the warm, perfect taste of your chest.

Then his eyes darken with realization. He pulls back just enough to flash you that wild, sunny grin, lips shiny with spit. “Sorry… got distracted.”

Before you can respond, he starts fucking you properly, pounding into you until your eyes roll back and your mind goes blank. He makes up for his distraction by fucking you absolutely dumb, all while his hand still play with your breasts.

Hey guys!! Just a little treat because I don’t know how long I’ll take the finish Luffy’s fanfic. Divider credits for @uzmacchiato.

The "Paint-Colored Erosion Incident," as Nami had dramatically dubbed it, was over. Baroque Works officer Mr. 3, a man whose Devil Fruit ability was as infuriatingly whimsical as it was deadly, had been defeated. His power to create and manipulate a wax-like substance that hardened to be stronger than steel had been a nightmare to deal with. But it was his partner, Miss Goldenweek, and her "Colors Trap" that had left the most lingering, bizarre mark on the crew.

Her paints didn't just color; they manipulated emotions. Painting a flag with a certain color could induce a specific state—tears, rage, or, in your case, a state of dreamy, helpless infatuation. You remembered the feeling with a cringe. One moment you were fighting for your life, the next you were staring at Dorry, one of the giant warriors, with a googly-eyed sigh, convinced he was the most handsome being you'd ever laid eyes on. The effect had worn off, but the memory was mortifying.

Now, back on the Going Merry, the crew was scattered, tending to wounds and exhaustion. Sanji was in the galley, no doubt preparing a feast to celebrate their survival. Usopp was probably regaling a captive Vivi with exaggerated tales of his bravery. Nami was counting her new treasure, her mood significantly improved. Luffy was… well, Luffy was likely trying to provoke the sleeping giants again.

You needed to find Zoro. He'd been separated from you during the final confrontation, and a knot of anxiety hadn't loosened in your stomach since.

You found him on the deck, near the figurehead, but the sight of him stopped you in your tracks. He was sitting on the grassy deck, legs crossed, his three swords resting neatly beside him. But he wasn't cleaning them. He wasn't napping. He wasn't training. He was just… staring at the horizon, a small, ridiculously content smile on his face.

And he was humming.

It was a low, tuneless sound, but it was definitely humming. Roronoa Zoro. Humming. It was so out of character it felt like you'd stepped into an alternate dimension. You approached cautiously, your boots soft on the wooden deck.

"Zoro?" you called out gently.

He turned his head, and the smile that bloomed on his face was not his usual smirk or rare, soft grin. This was something else entirely. It was bright, unguarded, and utterly, devastatingly beautiful. His eyes, normally sharp and focused, were soft, hazy, and fixed on you with an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration that made your heart do a painful little flip.

"There you are," he said, his voice a low, melodic purr that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. "I was just thinking about you. Isn't that funny? I was thinking about you, and then poof, there you are. It's like magic."

You stared at him, your mind racing. This was… wrong. This was the same look you'd given Dorry under the influence of Miss Goldenweek's paint. A quick glance at his green haramaki confirmed your suspicion. A small, almost invisible splotch of bright pink paint was smeared near the buckle. The color for infatuation.

"Zoro," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I've never felt better," he declared, pushing himself to his feet with an easy grace. He closed the distance between you in two long strides, invading your personal space in a way that was both familiar and completely alien. He reached out, not to steady himself or to gesture, but to gently cup your cheek in his calloused hand. His thumb stroked your skin with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "How could I not be alright when you're here? You're… you're like the sun coming out after a hundred years of rain."

You swallowed hard. This was a nightmare. A wonderful, terrible, confusing nightmare. The man you loved, the gruff, emotionally constipated swordsman who could barely manage a "you're not annoying" on a good day, was now spouting poetry. And it was all because of a stupid, magical paint.

"Zoro, you have some paint on you," you said, trying to be direct.

He glanced down at his haramaki and then back at you, his smile unwavering. "Oh, this? Just a little souvenir. It reminds me of you."

"How does pink paint remind you of me?" you asked, a genuine, bewildered question.

"Because it's the color of your cheeks when you get flustered," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "And it's the color I imagine your lips would be after I've kissed them for a very, very long time."

A full-body blush erupted across your skin. This was beyond anything you had ever prepared for. Zoro's normal compliments were things like "you're not useless" or "your cooking is edible." This was… this was an assault on your senses.

"Okay, that's enough of that," you said, your voice squeaking slightly as you gently pushed him back. "We need to get that paint off you."

"Get it off?" he looked genuinely stricken. "But why? It makes everything so much clearer. It's like a fog has been lifted from my eyes. All this time, I've been walking around, thinking about swords, and training, and navigation, and my stupid captain… but it was all just noise. All that matters," he said, his gaze intense and unwavering, "is you."

He took your hand in his, his grip firm but gentle. He brought your knuckles to his lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss there. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? Not just… you know, aesthetically. Though you are. You're devastatingly beautiful. It's distracting. I should be training, but all I want to do is look at you. But it's more than that. It's the way your brow furrows when you're concentrating on a map. The way you bite your lip when you're worried. The way you laugh, even when I say something that isn't even a joke, just because you're kind."

He was rambling. Zoro was rambling. It was the single most surreal experience of your life.

"Zoro, you're not yourself right now," you insisted, trying to pull your hand away, but he held it fast.

"I'm more myself than I've ever been," he countered, his grin turning mischievous. "You know what I was just thinking about? Our future. After I become the World's Greatest Swordsman, we should buy a house. A quiet one. Maybe on a small, out-of-the-way island. We can have a dojo. I'll teach, and you can… I don't know, you can do whatever you want. You can fill the house with flowers. I hate flowers, but I'd let you fill our house with them if it made you happy."

Your heart was hammering against your ribs. This was everything you had ever, secretly wanted to hear from him, but it was all wrong. It wasn't real. It was the paint.

"Zoro, please," you begged softly. "This isn't real. It's the paint."

"Real? What's real?" he mused, his eyes glazing over slightly. "Is this real?" He tapped the hilt of Wado Ichimonji. "Is this real?" He tapped the Going Merry's deck. "Is the Grand Line real? Or is it all just a dream we're having? The only thing I know for sure is real," he said, his gaze snapping back to yours with dizzying intensity, "is this. This feeling. Right here, right now. You and me."

He leaned in again, and for a terrifying second, you thought he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to, and you didn't. It was a torturous paradox. Instead, he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and letting out a contented sigh.

"I love you," he whispered, the words so soft you almost thought you imagined them. "There, I said it. It feels… good. Like taking a breath after being underwater for way too long. I love you. I've probably loved you for a long time and was just too stubborn and stupid to realize it. Or maybe I did realize it and was just scared. But I'm not scared now. How could I be scared of anything when I have you?"

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. This was cruel. It was the cruelest trick the Grand Line had ever played on you. To hear the words you longed for, spoken with a sincerity that was utterly convincing, knowing they weren't truly his. Not yet, anyway.

"Okay," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "Okay, Zoro. I believe you. But we still need to get the paint off. For me. Please?"

He pulled back, his expression softening at the sight of your unshed tears. "Oh, hey, no. Don't cry. I hate it when you cry." He gently wiped at your

cheek with his thumb. "Fine. For you. Anything. If it'll make you smile a real smile, not one of those sad ones, I'll let you scrub me with a deck brush and Sanji's soap."

A watery, genuine laugh escaped you. "I don't think it'll come to that. Let's just get you to the washroom."

He let you take his hand, lacing his fingers through yours with a familiarity that usually took him weeks of casual proximity to initiate. He followed you like a devoted puppy, his earlier predatory energy replaced by a placid, adoring compliance. As you led him towards the men's quarters, he swung your joined hands between you, humming that same tuneless, happy song.

"You know," he began, his voice thoughtful, "I never really noticed the way the light hits the wood on this ship. It's nice. It's warm. Like you."

"Zoro, the ship is made of wood."

"I know," he said, grinning at you as if you'd just shared a profound secret. "But it's happy wood. Because it gets to carry you."

You decided arguing with his logic was a losing battle and focused on the task at hand. Inside the men's quarters, you sat him down on his hammock and grabbed a clean cloth and a basin of water. You knelt in front of him, your heart still thumping a frantic rhythm against your ribs. As you dampened the cloth, you became acutely aware of your position. You were on your knees before him, about to touch his hips. The sheer intimacy of it, under these bizarre circumstances, was overwhelming.

"Alright, let's see this paint," you murmured, reaching for the edge of his green haramaki.

His hand shot out, covering yours. His touch was gentle, but his grip was firm. You looked up, startled, and met his gaze. The adoration was still there, but now it was mixed with a heat, a smoldering intensity that was pure, unadulterated Zoro, even through the paint-induced haze.

"Careful," he whispered, his voice husky. "That's a dangerous move."

"It's just your sash, Zoro."

"Is it?" he leaned forward, his face inches from yours. "Or is it the last barrier between me and telling you every single thing I've ever wanted to do to you?"

Your breath hitched. "Zoro…"

"Tell me to stop," he breathed, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me you don't want to hear it, and I'll shut up forever. I'll go back to being the grumpy bastard you're so used to, and I'll never bother you with this again."

You couldn't speak. You couldn't form the words. Because the traitorous part of you, the part that had been waiting for months, maybe years, for a crack in his emotional armor, desperately wanted to hear it. So you said nothing.

He took your silence as permission.

"I think about you when I'm training," he confessed, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. "I think about your voice telling me to get up when I'm on the ground, exhausted. I think about your hands patching up my wounds. I think about the way you look at me, like you see something more than just a guy with three swords and a death wish. It makes me stronger."

He released your hand and slowly, deliberately, you untied the knot of his haramaki. The pink splotch was right there, a garish reminder of the spell he was under. You dabbed at it with the wet cloth, your fingers brushing against the warm skin of his stomach. He hissed, but not in pain.

"Your hands are so soft," he murmured, his eyes following your movements. "It's a miracle. You work just as hard as the rest of us, but your hands… they're for holding, not for fighting. I like that. I like imagining my hands holding yours."

You scrubbed a little harder, the pink paint beginning to smear. "Zoro, stop it."

"Why?" he asked, genuinely confused. "Don't you like hearing this? Don't you want to know that when I'm swinging a thousand-pound sword, I'm thinking about how much lighter it would feel if it was your hand I was holding? Don't you want to know that when I'm lost, I'm not really looking for North, I'm just looking for you?"

The paint was coming off, streaks of pink mingling with the water on the cloth. But his words weren't stopping. If anything, they were becoming more focused, more intense.

"I watch you," he continued, his voice dropping even lower. "I watch the way you walk, the way you stretch in the morning, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you're concentrating. I've memorized the cadence of your footsteps on the deck so I always know when you're coming. I've cataloged every expression you make. My favorite is the one you're making right now. Flustered. Annoyed. A little bit turned on. It's a good look on you."

"Zoro!" you exclaimed, your face burning.

"What? It's true," he said, a lazy, triumphant smirk on his lips. It was the first glimpse of his usual self, and it was both a relief and a terrifying omen. "I want to kiss you. Right now. I want to see if you taste as sweet as you look. I want to find out if your laugh sounds the same when I'm the one making it happen. I want to wake up next to you and know what your hair looks like in the morning, all messy and spread out on the pillow. I want to protect you, not just because you're my crewmate, but because the thought of anything happening to you… it's the only thing that truly scares me in this world."

You scrubbed furiously at the last of the paint, your movements frantic. It was gone. The pink was completely washed away. You sat back on your heels, breathing heavily, waiting.

For a moment, he was silent. The hazy, dreamy look in his eyes began to clear. The intense, romantic focus started to waver. He blinked slowly, once, then twice. He looked down at his now-clean haramaki, then at the wet cloth in your hand, then at your tear-streaked, flushed face.

A slow, creeping horror dawned in his eyes.

"What… what did I just say?" he asked, his voice raspy, his usual gruffness returning with a vengeance.

"You… you said a lot of things," you managed to say, your voice trembling.

He stared at you, his expression a mask of utter panic and disbelief. He looked like a man who had just woken up naked in the middle of a town square with no memory of how he got there. He scrambled back from you, putting as much distance as the small room would allow.

"No," he shook his head, his eyes wide. "No. No, I didn't."

"You did," you confirmed softly.

He buried his face in his hands, a groan of pure mortification escaping his lips. "Oh, god. Kill me now. Just take one of my swords and run me through. I said… I said I loved you?"

"And the house on the quiet island," you added, unable to resist a small, watery smile. "And the flowers. And the part about my lips."

He peeked through his fingers at you, his face a spectacular shade of crimson that rivaled your own. "I am going to murder that clown with the paint. Slowly."

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words. You watched him, your heart aching. He was back. Your Zoro was back. And he was completely and utterly humiliated. You stood up, wringing out the cloth and setting the basin aside. You didn't know what to say. How do you walk back from something like that?

Finally, he lowered his hands, his expression grim. He wouldn't meet your eyes. He was staring at a spot on the floor, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscle twitching.

"Look," he began, his voice rough and strained. "Forget it. Just… forget all of it. It was the paint. It was a lie."

You flinched at the word "lie." It felt like a physical blow.

"Zoro…"

"It was nothing," he insisted, finally forcing himself to look at you, but his eyes were hard, defensive. "It was just… nonsense. The stupid Grand Line messing with my head. It doesn't mean anything."

You stood there for a long moment, the weight of his words settling heavily in the room. The paint was gone, but its echo remained, hanging between you like a ghost. You saw the panic in his eyes, the desperate need to retreat back into the safety of his emotional fortress. You could let him. You could nod and agree and pretend the last ten minutes never happened, letting the words he spoke dissolve into the salty sea air.

Or you could be brave.

You took a step towards him. He flinched, but didn't move away.

"Was it all a lie, Zoro?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper. "The part about wanting to hold my hand? The part about me making you stronger? The part about being scared of losing me?"

He stared at you, his defenses crumbling under the directness of your question. The hard facade cracked, and you saw it again—the vulnerability, the fear, the truth that had been hiding underneath all along.

He didn't answer. He couldn't. But you didn't need him to. You saw the answer in the way his shoulders slumped in defeat, in the way his gaze dropped from yours, unable to hold the weight of your question. The silence was his confession.

So you took another step, closing the final inch of space between you. You reached up, your fingers gently tilting his chin, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were a storm of emotions—shame, fear, and a desperate, fragile hope that broke your heart.

"It wasn't all a lie, was it?" you asked again, your voice softer this time.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He still said nothing, but his eyes flickered down to your lips for a fraction of a second before darting back up to meet your gaze. It was all the invitation you needed.

You leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn't a frantic, passionate kiss. It was gentle, firm, and full of unspoken understanding. It was a kiss that said, "I see you. I hear you. And it's okay." For a moment, he was frozen, his body rigid with shock. Then, with a ragged sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, he melted into it. His arms came around you, pulling you flush against his chest with a desperate, almost bruising force. One hand tangled in your hair, cradling the back of your head, while the other pressed firmly against the small of your back, anchoring you to him.

The kiss deepened, transforming from reassurance into something raw and hungry. It was a kiss that had been waiting for months, a release of all the pent-up words and emotions he could never bring himself to say. He kissed you like he was drowning and you were his only source of air. He kissed you like he was a starving man and you were his first meal in a year. The sheer intensity of it stole your breath away.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged and uneven. He kept his eyes closed, as if he was afraid to open them and find that you were gone.

"You're still here," he breathed, the words a statement of pure, unadulterated awe.

"I'm not going anywhere," you promised, your hands coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the frantic, steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

He finally opened his eyes, and the vulnerability you saw there took your breath away. It was Zoro, completely unguarded, his soul laid bare. "I meant it," he whispered, the words rough with emotion. "All of it. I just… I don't know how to be this person. The person who says things like that."

"You don't have to be," you said softly, stroking his chest. "You just have to be you. The person who trains until his muscles scream, the person who would die for his friends, the person who gets hopelessly lost but always finds his way back. That's the person I fell in love with."

A slow, shy smile touched his lips. It was his smile, not the paint's. A small, rare, beautiful thing that made your heart ache. "So… the house on the quiet island?"

You laughed, a real, genuine laugh that felt like cleansing the last of the paint from your own soul. "We can start with you not hogging the hammock every night."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "Deal." He leaned in and kissed you again, a softer, more confident kiss this time. A kiss that wasn't desperate for reassurance, but one that settled, a promise of things to come.

When he pulled away, his gaze was serious again. "But I'm still going to kill that clown with the paint."

"I'll help you," you said with a grin. "But first, I think Nami owes us a fee for emotional damages. And Sanji probably owes you a lifetime supply of food for making you say all those sappy things."

A genuine, full-throated laugh escaped him, a sound so rare and precious it made you stop and just stare. It was the first time you'd ever heard him truly laugh, not just a huff of amusement or a dry chuckle, but a real, uninhibited laugh of pure joy.

"What?" he asked, noticing your stare.

"Nothing," you said, shaking your head in wonder. "I just… I really like your laugh."

His smile softened, and he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin with a tenderness that was now entirely his own. "I'll try to do it more often, then. For you."

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and letting the reality of the moment wash over you. The Grand Line was chaotic and dangerous, full of giants, dinosaurs, and psychotic pirates with magical paint. But here, in the cramped quarters of the Going Merry, held in the arms of the man you loved, you felt a peace you hadn't known was possible.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"You know that part about your lips?"

You opened your eyes and looked at him. He was grinning, a mischievous, familiar glint in his eye.

"I still want to find out if they taste as sweet as you look."

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Well, what are you waiting for, World's Greatest Swordsman?"

He didn't need to be told twice. As his lips met yours again, you knew that the paint hadn't created anything. It hadn't invented his feelings or fabricated his desires. All it had done was unlock the door. And now that it was open, you had a feeling you and Roronoa Zoro were going to have a very long, very adventurous, and very loving journey ahead of you. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Sanji and Luffy were ecstatic the moment they both knew they could speak in Spanish, and no one else would understand a thing they were saying. Sometimes the conversation would have a few expressions thrown randomly in Spanish, nothing out of the ordinary, really. Even the crew started to understand them after a while.

Sometimes Sanji would scold Luffy in Spanish, and of course, Luffy would answer him. This is where things could get tricky, because even if they speak the same language, some expressions would change. And when that happened, you would try to hide your amusement, because it was hilarious the way Luffy would start to become more and more stubborn the moment Sanji tried his best to keep his composure. Luffy knew how to push Sanji’s buttons.

When this happened, the crew learned that this was going to be a normal thing, mostly because of course Luffy would get on Sanji’s nerves the most. And this mostly happened because Luffy would try to sneak into the kitchen and eat whatever was available, and Sanji would find him. 

Like this one time, you and Nami were sunbathing, and out of nowhere, you could hear commotion in the kitchen.

“LUFFY! Te dije que todavía no estaba listo. ¿Tienes los oídos en el trasero o qué?” Sanji shouted at him. (*Luffy! I told you it wasn’t ready yet. Are your ears on your butt or what?)

“NO SÉ, NO TE OIGO.” You could tell Luffy had something in his mouth (probably the food Sanji was referring to) since he could barely answer him. (*I don’t know, I can’t hear you)

“Juro, Luffy, que un día de estos te voy a dar un sartenazo, me da igual si eres mi capitán.” (*Luffy, I swear one day I’ll hit you with a pan, I don’t care if you are my captain)

“Hazlo, de cualquier manera no me va a doler.” Luffy teased and started to laugh, and then a loud BANG! It didn’t sound like Sanji actually hit him; it was more like a wood-type sound. (*Go ahead, it won’t hurt me anyway)

“No, espera, Sanji, lo siento, ya perdón.” You and Nami were looking at each other now. Heavy footsteps could be heard all over the Merry. Out of nowhere, Luffy came running for his life with his arms full of random food, Sanji following soon after, but stopping near you and Nami. (*No wait! Sanji. I’m sorry, really)

“I swear he’s gonna give me an aneurysm one day.” You and Nami gave him an empathetic look, and you also tried your best not to laugh at the situation.

And even if this was entertaining as hell, sometimes you wish you didn’t know what they were saying, because then you wouldn’t know how to react.

The thing is, Sanji and Luffy started to get comfortable with what they would say, really comfortable to the point that they would forget that sometimes the topic of their conversation could be near them.

“Te juro que está enamoradísima de mí,” Sanji said, and you stopped on your tracks. You didn’t want to interrupt them, even though you were really, really thirsty, and the one thing that could help was in the same room where you knew Sanji and Luffy were. (*She’s so in love with me)

“Ya quisieras, obviamente yo soy quien le gusta.” Who were they talking about? The only girls you could think of were Nami, Vivi, or you… (*You wish. I’m the one she obviously likes)

“Luffy, eres mi capitán y te tengo respeto, pero obviamente no sabes nada de chicas ni de la manera en que ella siempre me está viendo.” They stay silent for a moment, realization looming over the two of them. (*Luffy, you’re my captain, and I respect you, but you know nothing about girls and the way she’s always looking at me)

“Te gusta.” They both said at the same time. (*You like her)

Curiosity was taking the best in you since you, by mistake, hit the door with your head while you were trying to listen better. You slowly opened the door, as if you didn’t hear the conversation.

“I just… I want some water.” You mumbled and acted as naturally as possible. Sanji smiled at you, and Luffy couldn’t stop looking at you. You could feel his gaze burning into you. 

“Of course, let me serve you.” Sanji quickly cleaned his hands.

“No wait, Sanji, I can do it.”

“Let me.” You only nodded.

“Deja de verla así, la vas a asustar,” Sanji said, obviously talking to Luffy. (*Stop looking at her like that, you’re scaring her)

“Claro que no, te estoy diciendo, le gusto. Es más, estoy seguro de que también le gusta cómo la miro.” Sanji chuckled and only shook his head. You, on the other hand, were trying your best not to look like you were about to implode. It was you. They were talking about you. (*I’m not. I’m telling you, she likes me. I’m pretty sure she also likes the way I’m looking at her)

“La estás mirando como si fuera comida.” Sanji turned around and gave you the cup of water. You only nodded at him and muttered a small “Thanks.” He rested his face in the palm of his hand, looking at you with adoration. (*You're looking at her as if she's food)

“Bueno, si nos ponemos en ese plan… ¿Crees que sepa dulce?” You choked at his words, and, unfortunately, the water made it worse. (*Well, now that we’re talking about that… Do you think she tastes sweet?)

“Are you ok?” Sanji quickly grabbed a napkin and handed it to you. 

“Yeah, just…” You tried to answer, but you were coughing, too shocked to even form a proper answer. “I…” you took a deep breath, “I have to-“ you gestured the door, quickly turning around, and started sprinting to the door, trying to leave the most embarrassing situation you’ve experienced, but Luffy wasn’t dumb when it came to you, and as if he had super speed, he was now infront of the door, preventing you to open the door.

“You understand what we’re saying.” Not a question, but an affirmation.

“I…” You started to step back from him, and that’s when you crashed against a chest, a really strong chest. His hands started to slowly roam over your arms, not really touching you, but leaving a trail of goosebumps all over your upper body.

“Is that true?” Sanji whispered in your ear. You only closed your eyes and nodded.

“Ay princesa,” Sanji hugged you from your waist, and rested his head on the blade of your shoulder, “Lamento que te hayas enterado así. Pero realmente nos gustas y, por lo que estoy viendo, también te gustamos, ¿cierto?” He started to leave wet kisses on your neck. Luffy smiled. (*Oh princess. I’m sorry you found out this way. But we really like you, and from what I’m able to tell, you like us too, right?)

Luffy started to walk in your direction, a smug smile was adorning his face, and you couldn’t help but whimper. Not really sure if it was because of Sanji, or because Luffy was looking at you as if you were his last meal.

“Guess now I have to know what you taste like, right?"

A/N: This is heavily inspired by that interview where Iñaki and Taz were arguing in Spanish and everyone was like "???"

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