#opla x reader

You’re seated on a twirly chair in front of the vanity, right foot up on the cushioned surface to better polish your toes. They’re a vivid coral, matching the ones on your fingers. Nami’s lying upside down on her cot across from you, hands behind her head and feet up against the wall like it’s nobody’s business. She's finished her toes already, all coated in a beautiful teal that compliments her hair.

Everything is perfect tonight. As perfect as being bountied pirates on a ship can get. The flower scented candles around the girls’ cabin run warm, making sweetness blossom around the room. Your beds are made perfectly, pillows fluffed up just the way you like it. You and Nami move with an unspoken understanding, of unwinding and finally taking time to yourselves after a day full of adventure. 

The sound of the sea has been quietly lulling the two of you into peace, though you have to delay your sleep for an extra hour of chatting away your complaints.

Girls night always welcomes honesty—when you and Nami can talk about everything the boys would never understand. And she’s being real truthful alright, hand enthusiastically waving around like a maestro to her own words. 

And of course, the current topic of conversation was the blonde, women-loving cook in your crew. 

Nami can be blunt, to say the least. It’s what you appreciate most about her, although you wish she’d soften her words up just a little bit. 

Or maybe try to see him the way you do.

“He’s a lot.”

She’s talking about typical Sanji behavior. The incessant flirting, the hovering and his I-live-to-serve-women attitude, which she’s convinced is some type of overcompensation. 

You definitely don’t think it’s annoying. If anything, you think it’s really sweet that he tries his hardest to impress Nami. 

Matter of fact, you love it when he tries to impress the girls on this ship. Fortunately for you, the only two available ones include an independent, no-bullshit navigator who doesn’t easily fall for his smooth-talking. Now that just leaves him to focus more of his affection onto you, and you absolutely love being the center of his attention.

You bite your lips, trying to hold back your laughter. “I mean, he’s intense for sure.”

She rolls her eyes at your attempts to soften her complaints, and she truly can’t find it in her to understand why you would defend the cook. “Annoying.”

“I think it’s kind of cute.”

A beat of silence. 

And then Nami literally whips her head to face you so fast you’d think you were a treasure made of a trillion berries.

The sight she’s greeted with is one she will never forget. And not in a pleasant way, because you look positively, 100%, absolutely sure about the words you just uttered out of your mouth.

You’re hugging both your legs up to your chest, lips still bitten in a silent restraint. You’re actually melting into yourself, lost somewhere in the clouds as you swing yourself right and left in your chair. 

Where do you even begin? 

From memorizing your likes and dislikes,—and not just about food—attending to your needs, whether you voice them or not, and genuinely wanting to know you for who you are. Sanji somehow manages to embrace who you were, who you are now and who you hope to become in the future, all in the same breath. 

He is never quiet with the way he loves. God forbid he doesn’t worry about others for even one day. He’s dramatic, over-the-top, theatrical. All the synonyms of spectacular you can find in the dictionary. But also grounded, selfless, and so genuine that it makes your teeth ache and your heart clench erratically. 

Sanji treats you with a kind of gentleness that makes you think you’re the most precious diamond in the Blue Sea. You are. To him. He never ceases to convince you of so. 

So it’s an absolute no-brainer that you think he is the one for you. If not the only man ever. And, the fact that you aren’t alone in this fortifies your belief. You and Sanji have your own thing. A quiet game that only you seem to understand the rules of. A kind of connection that isn’t defined by or bound to labels; one that grew from quiet glances and secret smiles. The others may not notice—for now. They’d probably brush it off as you being kind to Sanji and finding genuine friendship in him. 

But you like it that way, and you really, really like him. You don’t need to say it out loud, because you’re sure he knows you do. You’re content with what you have because you can feel it that he reciprocates. 

You are his just as much as he is yours. 

“Say that again.” Nami pumps out the sentence like she can’t believe her own ears. She’s fully upright now, propping her upper body with her hands. She leans towards you as if it’ll make her hear better. 

“I think..” you mimic her pose and lean your chest forward, palms resting on both knees as if preparing to tell her a secret, “—that he’s kind of cute.”

It’s he, now. Not it, anymore. 

God, you are hopeless. And crazy. 

“You’re kidding.” The navigator hits you with the most deadpan stare you’ve ever seen her muster in her life.

Nami tries to look back at all your past interactions with Sanji. From the first time you joined the crew to the most recent ones. Then it all clicks for her—like a puzzle piece to answer a question she’s never bothered to ask. 

It starts with the way you get quiet when Sanji’s around, a secret smile and an undeniable warmth seldom missing from your face. Gosh, you’re so shy when he talks to you sometimes. It’s crazy that it didn’t register to her because you’re typically always so sure of yourself. Then it’s how you never, ever brush off his attempts at flattery. How your sweet compliments always seemed to be drowned out by Luffy’s shouts and Zoro’s arguing. She looks back at the way you naturally gravitate towards him. It didn't matter if you were on the ship, jumping from island-to-island, in the middle of a fight or simply lounging around with the rest of the crew, you always found your way right beside him. 

Huh. 

It was all in her face the entire time. Loud and apologetic. She feels silly at the fact that she’s never thought to even look because she couldn’t fathom that any woman could genuinely put up with him. And you never denied anything either—not when there wasn’t anything to deny in the first place. 

Her words set you off like a pirate looking for the one piece. 

“Nami don’t you ever dream of a guy who’ll sweep you off your feet?”

You’re breathless, absolutely lost in your own daydreams as you twirl around your chair with a force that could blow the Going Merry across the Grand Line. There are stars in your eyes, genuinely. Your hands shoot up in a rainbow above your head, and your body melts further into the seat. 

Something’s definitely gotten into you.

“And Sanji’s that guy for you?!” She exclaims. You watch her go through all the 7 stages of grief in the span of 3 seconds. 

You laugh at her silliness, and then you’re back to swooning again.

It was as if she’d unlocked your inner beast. A lovesick, crazy girl who was spouting her dreams of romance and everything that was butterflies and rainbows. A woman who was absolutely mooning over Sanji.

From then on the navigator makes it her mission to uncover where this crush of yours came from. She can try asking the rest of the crew, but she’s 98% sure the boys are oblivious to this, or simply aren’t as perturbed as she is. (Because how has no one questioned this before?!)

Starting wasn’t hard. At all. Turns out you and Sanji are shameless. It just takes the right time for someone to pay attention and see how deep the connection runs between the two of you. 

It happens bright and early a few days later. Nami—by instinct or intuition—woke up to an empty cabin. Your bed looked freshly mussed, like you couldn’t be bothered to tidy it up before getting up. She looked through the small window, greeted by the sight of the barely peeking sun in the darkness of the horizon. Way too early for anyone to be up. Except for Sanji, who she knows is already prepping for breakfast in the galley. And conveniently, you seem to be missing in action as well. It doesn't take much to put two and two together. 

She catches you right as you are entering the kitchen.

Of course, Sanji is already busying himself on the counter, chopping an array of fresh fruits into—what Nami can’t see—hearts.

“Mon trésor.” 

It barely takes a second for you to enter before Sanji is calling out to you, gaze immediately snapping towards your figure. He doesn’t need his sight to know that it’s you. He can’t admit that it’s because he’s memorized the weight of your steps on the ship, and the sweet scent of your perfumed clothes. 

A lit cigarette hangs off from his lips, though he quickly puts it away when you make your way to the dining table. 

You rub your eyes tiredly, hand then moving down to hug yourself closer in an attempt to chase some warmth. “Hi, Sanji.”

He’s melting at the sight of you. 

This might just be his favorite part of the morning, second only to when you start talking to him. You’re in your pajamas still, shirt hanging loosely over your bare shoulders. Absolutely radiant, and so domestic. You can barely open your eyes in the morning sun, and the way you carry yourself feels heavier, but more honest. Relaxed. A good sign that you slept well. 

Sanji doesn’t fight off the small flush that makes itself known across his face.

“Do you know that every time you say my name an angel gains its wings?”

You grin at the early morning flattery while you settle down on your seat. You could look like the messiest thing on the ship and Sanji will find a way to compliment you regardless. “Heaven must love me,”

“Heaven would be a fool not to love you, darling.” It doesn’t take even a beat for him to answer, and the cook puts down his knife to come closer. He makes a point to lean his face down to yours to greet you with an open teeth grin. 

And that genuinely brings a giggle out of you, leaving Nami mildly disgusted. 

When he's finally seen your smile, he returns back to the stove, slathering butter over the surface of a pan. The familiar rich aroma and the oddly calming sizzling sound makes you soften into yourself. You slouch onto the countertop, folding your elbows into each other and laying your chin on top. “I take it that this is a good morning for you?”

“Everyday better when I see your beautiful face.” He curls his lips into a smile, sneaking a quick glance at you before winking. 

Thank goodness he goes back to focusing on the pan because you are already throwing your face away to the sea, pursing your lips in a barely restrained smile before burying yourself into the crook of your arms, releasing a hidden breath. 

Sanji, that sly man, takes a quick peek from his shoulders. Seeing you, confident you, turn into a flustered puddle from his words makes him puff up so quickly. He wears his pride so boldly on his chest. No one could tell him anything for the rest of the day, and it was insufferable. 

Unbeknownst to you, he’s already started on your breakfast. He knows that you’re an early riser, and that you will almost always seek him out first thing in the morning. So everyday he sets out your breakfast ingredients and preps as much as he can. He doesn’t start cooking them before he sees your face, because he only wants the most warm and freshly cooked meal for you.

You notice it though, the way he always serves you first, no matter the time and place. Dinner? A plate of the finest meat for you first (Luffy hates it.) Going over logs with Nami? All the snacks you like are immediately placed in front of you, and a drink to compliment it following behind. He always thinks about your needs first, and if that isn’t love then you don’t know what to believe. 

Just as you are in the middle of your daydreaming, Sanji interrupts with the sound of cutlery against porcelain. He’s plating up your mouth-watering breakfast, made to absolute perfection. 

“For you madam, golden brown honey toast with freshly whipped cream on top,” he dishes out the plate in front of you, and the aroma itself sends you straight to heaven. “—extra fruit, just the way you like it.”

You didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with him, but you’re proven wrong once you see the fruits that decorate your toast, all of them heart shaped. Both hand-cut and perfectly uniform using the cutter he specifically bought to use for your meals. 

You gasp in exaggeration, though deep inside you’re aching about how sweet he is to remember your preferences. “You spoil me,”

“Only the best for my favorite Strawhat.” He answers, pouring you a glass of freshly brewed coffee. 

You’re in the middle of cutting your toast in half when you look up at him, teasing by saying, “Don’t let the captain hear you say that.”

Sanji exclaims back to you in all his confidence, turning away as he places the pot on the counter. “Bah! One sirloin steak and he’ll forgive me like it never happened.”

Your giggle is like the brightest melody in his ears, and the words that follow it could bring him back from the dead. “Thank you, my chef~”

“You know my heart can’t take it,” He playfully sighs out your name, clutching his chest. Sanji stands across the table now, resting his chin on his hand against the counter top. Just happy to watch you.

“Delicious!” You continue to shoot honeyed words at him, not just as a means for him to keep sweet-talking you, but also because you think Sanji deserves all the love and goodness of this world. 

“Sing me your praises, my angel of music,”

Nami can almost see him propel himself to the sky with giddiness. 

“So perfectly crunchy,”

“—and I’m yours forever.” He takes your hand in his from across the aisle, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles as he looks up at you. 

Nami felt chills sweeping up her spine. 

You guys were so cheesy. But sort of.. cute. That was something she couldn’t deny. She’s never seen Sanji this genuine, and when someone actually reciprocates, it makes him look less like a fool. 

And the way you were bouncing back and forth on each other was like a sick game of ping-pong she couldn’t look away from.

She couldn’t figure out for the life of her why you two aren’t together already. It’s perfectly clear that you both feel the same way, and aren’t afraid to act upon it. A small part of her wants to meddle, and she’s halfway into a plan that’ll somehow get either of you to confess to each other, but then she abruptly stops.

Eh, you guys will sort that out yourselves. Eventually. You look like you’re exactly where you want to be. So, Nami shrugs and beelines into the kitchen, hoping to get a fresh plate of breakfast seeing that he’s already started with yours. 

The next time Nami catches a moment between the two of you wasn’t intentional. Right, because she wouldn’t be caught dead seeking the conversations you and Sanji had after that traumatizing event. 

It was late at night. For once a quiet one between all the chaos that seemed to follow the Strawhat Pirates. Luffy was snoring away somewhere with a full belly, Ussop tinkering away in his cabin, and Zoro likely in the crow’s nest. Nami decided to look for fresh air, feeling a little bit holed up inside her room. Between the gentle rocking of the sea and the soft melody of the waves, it was the perfect atmosphere to spend watching the horizon. 

She didn’t mean to overhear your conversation, but the door was open and a ship doesn’t exactly leave much room for privacy. She tried to leave the two of you alone at first, but found herself leaning against the galley wall to listen in in the end. 

When she takes a peek through the door, she finds you seated still and pretty on the stool close to him, cross-legged in your pajamas. Like a sous chef who wasn’t really a sous chef but boosted the cook all the same—if not a million times more. 

When you first got to the galley, you paid mind to his laser-focused expression. You didn't want to break his flow, so you stuck yourself against the counter at a distance. You were content with the picture of him from afar, but Sanji had absolutely none of it. He began your conversation of the night while silently dragging a stool and placing it right next to him by the stove. Safely away from getting blasted by the heat, but close enough to where he could feel you around him and talk to you without feeling a million miles away. 

He’s got on one of your top favorite get-ups: a classic blue striped dress-shirt unbuttoned just the right amount and his pink Doskoi Panda apron tied around the back. Sleeves deliciously rolled up to his elbows for a bonus. Though Nami isn’t attracted to him the way you are, she isn’t blind. She has to admit that the image of his forearms are a sight for sore eyes. Sanji can be quite charming at times, mostly when he keeps the talking to a minimum and does what he does best. 

You’re not even hiding it at this point, gaze tracking every languid move of his hands like you were hypnotized. 

It’s not hard for you to admire him when he’s deep in his element. You find yourself going quiet, not because you don’t want to talk to him, but because it’s mesmerizing to see the way he commands the kitchen like his own battleship.

There’s a small smile on your lips as you take in the passion he carries, and on your lap you fidget with the shiny silver ring on your thumb. It’s his ring—your favorite one that's shaped like a skull—that he gave to you for “safekeeping”, even though Sanji never ever takes them off. Even when he’s cooking. It’s incredibly intimate; a symbol of his trust for you.

He’s just finished cooking a dish of his own creation. A classic menu made of meat, but a little more experimental with the seasoning. You can only describe it as heaven in a plate, sweet and savory at the same time, with a hint of something that you can't fully describe with words. Yet, you enjoy it for all that it is, and the delectable fragrance isn't something to complain about, either. It’s almost shocking that Luffy hasn’t come running down the kitchen from the smell alone. Sanji isn’t technically done with the recipe, seeing as he’s trying to perfect the ingredients being used. He has his worn-out notepad by the counter, filled with endless scribbles and notes of improvement. The cook will come back to it once you’ve given your own comments on the taste.

Once finished turning down the heat, he takes a clean spoon out of the cabinet and offers you a small portion fresh out of the pan, where the dish was still simmering in the heat. 

You feel honored that you are Sanji’s unofficial taste-tester. The first time you came across the cook experimenting with new creations was a complete coincidence. That particular night you’d been restless in bed, stomach aching for a bite of food. You ended up pattering into the galley to get maybe a few crackers, a slice of bread or cheese or something that’d temporarily distract you. But you didn’t expect to feast on a five star meal once Sanji found out you were hungry. You? His precious princess starving? Not on this ship. 

What began as compliments to the chef turned into fully fledged reviews of each flavor profile, and eventually became something more intimate. A space for honesty just for you and Sanji. 

You like to think that’s where you found the real Sanji. The kind heart beyond the ladies man, the truths behind his endless honeyed words. 

You sought him out like a moth to a flame, and every night Sanji welcomed you with open arms. 

Most of the times you were there to actually be his taste-tester, which is just his excuse of having a private late dinner with you. But, other times he’s prepping meals for the next day and you’re simply there to keep him company. Either way, you’ll never skip out on an opportunity to spend time alone with Sanji.

Funnily enough, more than once you’ve caught Luffy sneaking in and rummaging through the pantry, already halfway stuffing his face with something that makes Sanji tick before he notices that the two of you are occupying the room. It’s a bit adorable that he doesn’t make a fuss about it. He never questions anything beyond “Hey… are you sneaking for snacks too?!” and then an “Okay!” followed by his high pitched laughter after Sanji kicks him out for offering you the stolen goods from his sticky hands. 

You take notice that he never lets Luffy get a bite of his cooking. Sure, if the captain asks, Sanji will make him something, but not from the same pan. A different dish all together. You think that maybe it’s because he isn’t open to someone tasting something he considers isn’t “perfect” yet, but another part of you just believes that it’s because he only trusts you to give him the honest truth. 

Still, you find it hard to believe he’d ever need one, considering everything that he makes turns out flawless. 

“More seasoning?” The cook watches as you chew on the meat slowly.

You shake your head in disagreement. “No, this is perfect, Sanji.”

“Not too sweet for you?” 

Nami sees you visibly recoil at his questions, body moving as if he was spouting blasphemy. 

He’s got his back turned to you while he rinses his hands over the sink, so he can’t see the flabbergasted frown on your face.

“This is quite possibly the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.” You make an emphasis on the word “best”, sticking the wooden spoon back at him to signal that you wanted more.

“You flatter me, angel.” He grins, pulling the dish towel from his shoulders to wipe his hand. Then he goes straight to follow your command exactly and dips right back into the pan, scooping up a portion before blowing it softly to cool it down. 

You’re practically vibrating in your seat, legs bouncing and arms holding up the weight of your body as you lean towards him. 

“Nope. I’m just sayin’ the truth!” The words come with a pause as you’re swallowing your last bite, and the brightness comes right back up your face while you praise Sanji.

By the All Blue, he just wants to scoop you up and squeeze you in his arms for all eternity. You can be so shy around him, but also incredibly animated when expressing yourself. 

Once Sanji deems it the perfect condition for you, he motions the spoon to your mouth.

It’s a stupidly sweet gesture, and also his way of stopping you from eating the whole thing. You can just take the spoon from him and feed yourself, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like being pampered by Sanji. You’re not ashamed to admit that it makes you feel very special. If you truly weaponized your voice and asked him for the whole pan, he’d give it to you without a single doubt. But, it’d be a shame if he didn’t wait until he could properly serve it with some rice so you could have your very late dinner “date”.

He holds the spoon out for a beat longer to look down at the way your lips wrap around the surface, turning away only when you finish munching happily at the taste. After all, your satisfaction is his number one priority. Nami can’t see your face from where she’s at, but she can absolutely make out Sanji’s, and the way he’s staring is sensual, borderline debauched. It makes the navigator feel like she’s intruding on a private moment.

You are none the wiser to this, Sanji needs to get it together, and Nami’s very close to throwing up in front of the galley. 

Your eyes are closed as you hum contentedly once the flavors settle nicely in your stomach, and it’s then when you start to feel the weight of his stare. 

You’re only chin level on this short stool, so you have to look up to meet his eyes.

He's quiet and awfully still, taking you all in and leaving no part of you starving for his attention. There's an evident tension swimming around the kitchen, and it makes you acutely aware of just how close you are to him. Inches away. The position is a tad intimate, to say the least.

“What? Is there sauce on my face?” 

You know there isn’t anything on your face except for pure happiness, though you’re a tiny bit flustered by his attention. 

“Sorry, darling,” He's not sorry at all. He leans in to wipe the non-existent sauce, and for a second you think he’s going to deny his obvious admiration of you but then he pivots into something that is so Sanji it makes your brain melt. 

“Your beauty demands to be seen. I can’t deny you that.” He traces the back of his finger over your cheek before tucking a stray hair behind your ear. 

Time and time again, Sanji is able to surpass your every expectation. You continue to feel the weight of his stare, now much different than before because he looks at you with deep, unabashed, reverence. Not hidden, and not in halves. A softness he reserves only for you.

You’re speechless for a moment, but then he cups your face into his palms and it feels like everything just melts away. 

Now Nami understands. Why you adore him so much. Why you don’t need to scream it out to the world that you love him (although you would love to). The two of you aren’t “together” officially not because you don’t want to, or are too shy to say it out loud. But because you enjoy every part of who he is. The chasing, the teasing, the thrill; it’s everything in him that makes you feel alive. You don’t need words for him to understand that you love him, just as he doesn’t. 

Nami watches the way you look up at him, positively beaming. The silence is broken away when you start giggling to yourself, and it only makes Sanji move closer to you, his forehead bumping gently against yours as he sports an identical grin on his face.

She shakes her head, both astonished and happy to see you flourishing in his presence, before walking away with an affectionate eye-roll.

Yeah. You two are the lamest.

Mon trésor: My treasure

Aaah I couldn’t really decide which sanji to base this fic off of. I ended up doing a bit of both 🍽️

You continued to retreat, gaze darting around in search of escape. How silly you really were – there was no way you could possibly outrun him. Finally, your back hit a large tree trunk. A muffled thud symbolised your impasse.

The man was about to take another step forward when your shaky voice called out to him:

“Stay there! Don’t come any closer!”

A desperate break in your voice rendered him immobile. Such an unfamiliar sound, yet more horrible than anything he’s ever heard. It resounded somewhere deep inside him, his own fears repeating it like an echo. His chest suddenly tightened and Zoro found himself both speechless and breathless. That unnamed sensation seared through his lungs, heart and spine. Trembling hands longed to claw his chest open and rip out whatever was hurting in such an unbearable, inexplicable way. It wasn’t human. It couldn’t be. Nothing in nature should be subjected to that agony.

Your entire body shook as you slid along the trunk and sat on the ground, knees held close to your chest. A violent sob escaped your throat. Trying to stifle it, you put your hands on your mouth, in vain. Hot tears streamed down your face, glistening in the high noon sun. 

Seeing the reflected sunrays, Zoro recalled one late night, when you begged him to stay up a little and join you in some stargazing. Bright, white dots littered the dark sky like precious jewels scattered on a sheet of black satin. There, sitting next you, Zoro finally understood the idea of art. If he could somehow save that moment, he would. Then, any time his heart desired, he could once again see your soft smile filled with wonder, faraway stars glistening in your eyes and the almost reverent look with which you admired the night sky. He recalled how you broke the long, pleasant silence: “I wonder what they see when they look down on us.” Zoro would have reminded you that stars, obviously, don’t have much internal dialogue but then you looked at him, casually decided to forever change the way he thought about you: “Sometimes I wonder what you see when you look at me. I mean, we’re so different and yet, we’re here. How does that happen?” The warmth of your skin against his was still fresh in his memory. Unknowingly, he clenched his hand into a fist, desperately trying to relive the sensation of holding you close.

“Fine,” he answered, after a moment of shared silence. Zoro swallowed with difficulty. He didn’t trust himself with longer sentences, not when you trembled in fear before him. “I’ll stay right here.”

He was terrifying.

It was like waking up at dawn and trying to remember the nightmare you just had. There were no details, only fear. A blurry set of silhouettes, their imposing aura only growing darker the harder you tried to make out their specifics. Similarly, you couldn’t recall a moment when one of Zoro’s blades lay threateningly against your exposed throat. The fear, however, remained, as though you remembered you had once remembered such a scene.

Even if you never had a direct reason to fear Zoro, wasn’t it simply common sense to fear a lion? It didn’t require being mauled to realise what a predator is. Although Zoro didn’t roar and neither did he have formidable claws, he was no less threatening: three sharp, well-made swords, years of experience in swordfighting, infamy amongst pirates for hunting them with a rettifying ease, an unshakable determination that even impressed one of the Warlords. Roronoa Zoro had the potential to be a nightmare brought to life. He could be a true demon, the personification of all vile fantasies.

But was he?

You held on to this sliver of clarity like a dying breath. It was impossible to tell which thoughts were your own. The fear directed at Zoro was suddenly directed at yourself – what was happening to you? How could you lose control of your own mind? More importantly: how can you escape the danger if it’s something inside you?

In that moment of clear thinking, you recalled as many memories with Zoro as you could. Maybe it was possible to convince yourself that he was never a threat. As images of shared laughter, intimacy and serenity flood your mind, you hold on to one, undeniable fact: Roronoa Zoro had countless opportunities to kill you in the most gruesome of ways. If he wanted to bring your demise, he already would have. After all, he’s not exactly fond of sitting idly.

“Help me!” you called out to him as your thoughts began to blur once again. Terror grew over them like ivy and moss hide once marvellous buildings. “I can’t stop it!”

“It’s the paint!” he answered, finger pointing at your shoulder. “You need to get the paint off!”

Confused, you looked at your arms. Your gaze landed on a red spiral painted on your skin. Something about this picture intensified your fear. The sliver of clarity was nowhere to be found; grim clouds covered every thought of yours that presented Zoro as anything other than a hungry predator.

You watched as Zoro slowly moved towards you. The beast was on a prowl, keen gaze observing you closely. Surely, he was looking for the quickest way to draw blood from your still-writhing carcass. Zoro was saying something to you but you couldn’t quite make out the words except for “paint” and “come”.

The conclusion was clear as day: Zoro put it there to lure you in. It’s all a scheme to get you to come closer to the swordsman. He was a predator and that was his hunting strategy.

What followed happened much quicker than you could realise. Roronoa Zoro, the beast that he was, pounced on you. Strong arms wrapped tightly around your frame. There was no escaping from that hold, like there was no escaping for the fly wrapped in a black widow’s cocoon. You tried to force your way out of that prison, pulling and pushing as strongly as you could. Tears rolled down your cheeks and onto his hands.

A piercing scream filled your ears. It might have been yours but you couldn’t be quite sure – the sound was inhuman, belonging rather to a wounded, frightened animal than a person.

Then, a warm hand rubbed against your shoulder. In a moment, everything went still. What a strange sensation it was, as though the time suddenly slowed down. The colours of the foliage became clearer. Your lungs filled with sweet-smelling, fresh air.

Your heart calmed down, returning to its usual steady rhythm. The fear… was gone. Completely. Along with the terror, all thoughts of Zoro’s murderous schemes disappeared. You could recall some of them, like one recalls a bizarre nightmare they had just woken up from. As the dawn breaks and sunlight fills the bedroom, the night terrors become ridiculous and laughable. How could you ever be afraid of something so calming?

“You with me?” whispered Zoro. His hot, shaky breath brushed against your temple.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you answered equally lowly. “Thank you.”

“Let’s not do this ever again, okay? I-” He cut his sentence before he could finish it. Zoro exhaled slowly, steadying himself. Your terrified shriek still rang in his ears, still asking him whether he truly deserved your trust. “I hated seeing you scared of me.”

His embrace remained just as tight as before. It was both bruising and grounding; one learns they are alive only when they greet Death at her door. Your face was nestled against Zoro’s chest, his chin resting on top of your head. The feeling of being engulfed by him had, strangely, the same power over you as that red paint: it confused your thoughts, taking control of your sanity. However, instead of fear, it instilled a deep sense of safety and belonging, as though the world began with Zoro’s left arm and ended with his right. Everything outside of that was nothing more than a mirage, an afterimage of a dream you had once dreamt.

“You will never have to be afraid of me. You know that, right?” Zoro’s question was met with silence but not with ignorance. The nod of your head was everything he needed to know. “Good,” he muttered under a sigh. It seemed that the acknowledgement was meant more for his own anxiety. The piercing scream continued to echo in his head, although quieter than before.

“You know what was the strangest of all?” you asked. Zoro answered with a low hum. “When I asked for your help, I had this moment of clarity. I tried to make myself remember that you’re not a threat. That I’m always safe with you. And the fear that clouded my mind was the scariest thing I’ve ever felt. The thought of me being scared of you was… “ You shake your head, looking for the right words. “It was more terrifying than anything I could imagine. I would hate to live in a world where, somehow, I should be afraid of you.”

“Good thing you will never have to.”

You felt a pair of lips softly kissing your temple. Was it a promise? An apology? Perhaps a symbol of duty to you.

«(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.