Unintentional Couple Behaviour
Unintentional couple behaviour
you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?
characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo
words count: around 0.8k - 1.3k each
masterlist || ko-fi
── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:
You do a lot of things for Zoro without thinking.
You wake him up when it’s time to eat. You stop him from training too much. You make sure he doesn’t get lost whenever the crew visits a new island.
It’s normal for you. Someone has to do it.
But one day, the others start teasing you about it.
It happens at lunch. You are eating with the crew when Usopp laughs and nudges your arm.
“Hey, aren’t you gonna get your boyfriend?”
You blink. “What?”
Sanji, cleaning his hands with a towel, nods toward the deck “That moss-brained idiot. You always bring him to meals. It’s like a little routine between you two now. Like a couple…”
“We’re not—” You nearly choke on your drink “We’re not a couple!”
Usopp grins “Then why do you always take so much care of him?”
“Because he’s stupid and forgets to eat!” you say, standing up “I’ll go get him, but not because of whatever weird ideas you guys have.”
You walk away while they laugh behind you.
You find Zoro exactly where you expect, napping against the ship’s railing, his swords next to him.
You roll your eyes and shake his shoulder “Oi, wake up. Lunch is ready.”
Nothing.
You shake him harder “Zoro. If you don’t get up, I’ll eat your food.”
He grumbles and waves his hand, like he’s trying to swat away a fly.
Sighing, you do what you always do. You grab his wrist and pull him up with both hands. He lets you. He always does, like it’s natural.
Zoro blinks at you, still half-asleep “Huh. You again.”
“Yeah, me again,” you say “Come eat before Sanji ‘forgets’ to save you anything.”
You’re still holding his wrist, making sure he doesn’t fall back asleep. That’s when you notice Nami and Robin watching from across the deck, smiling.
“What?” you ask, feeling awkward.
Nami smirks “You two are cute.”
Your face heats up “We’re not—he’s not—we’re not together!”
Robin chuckles “You do take care of him a lot.”
Zoro frowns, confused “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” you mutterl “Come eat.”
You let go of his wrist too fast and walk away, ignoring the warm feeling in your chest.
You think it’s over, but now you notice things.
Zoro always sits next to you at meals, even when there are other seats. You always save food for him without realizing. And during fights, he always protects you first, like it’s a habit.
And, worst of all, people keep pointing it out.
“y/n,” Chopper asks one day, tilting his head “Are you and Zoro dating?”
You almost trip “What?! No!”
“Oh...” He looks confused “But you act like it”
You groan “Not you too”
After that, you can’t stop thinking about it.
The next time you wake Zoro up, your fingers stay on his wrist a second too long. The next time he pulls you behind him in a fight, your heart beats faster.
And then one evening, when you catch him watching you with a thoughtful look, you realize you might be in trouble.
That night, Zoro speaks first.
“Oi”
You look up from your seat on the deck “What?”
He leans against the railing, arms crossed “Does it bother you?”
You frown “Does what bother me?”
“What people are saying” His eyes stay on you “About us.”
You swallow “Why? Does it bother you?”
He doesn’t answer right away “No” his voice is quieter than usual.
Your stomach flips and you look at the ocean “I mean… it’s just dumb teasing, right?”
Zoro doesn’t reply. Instead, he watches you for a long time. Then, finally, he smirks.
“Doesn’t really matter what they say” he says, voice calm but sure “I’d still stick with you either way.”
Your breath catches and suddenly, your heart won’t let you ignore this anymore.
For the next days you try to brush off what the crew said.
You really do, but it’s impossible to ignore when Zoro keeps acting the same way.
Like when you’re on lookout duty together, and he hands you his jacket without a word.
Or when you spar with him, and he pulls his hits just enough so you don’t get hurt.
Or when you fall asleep on the Sunny’s deck, and you wake up covered with a blanket, one you know you didn’t grab.
And every time it happens, you catch the crew watching. Smirking.
It’s driving you insane.
One afternoon, you finally decide to do something about it.
You find Zoro by the training room, lifting weights. His shirt is half undone, sweat glistening on his skin, but you shove that thought aside.
You cross your arms “Hey, Zoro.”
He grunts in acknowledgment, not stopping his reps.
You hesitate “…Why do you treat me differently?”
He finally sets the weight down, wiping his face with a towel “What?”
“You heard me...” You shift uncomfortably “You do things for me that you don’t do for anyone else.”
Zoro leans back against the wall, looking at you like you just asked a stupid question “So?”
“So?” You huff “That means something, doesn’t it?”
He shrugs “I guess.”
You blink “That’s it? You guess?”
Zoro sighs, scratching his head “Look, I don’t really think about it. I just—” He pauses, then shrugs again “I want to.”
Your heart skips a beat “…What?”
“I want to do those things for you,” he says simply “it’s not a big deal”
You stare at him “Not a... Zoro, are you serious?”
He frowns “What, you don’t like it?”
“That’s not the point!” Your face feels hot “You don’t do this for Nami or Robin or anyone else!”
Zoro looks at you, unimpressed “Yeah. Because it’s you.”
You freeze.
The way he says it, so blunt, so obvious, it makes your stomach flip.
He isn’t flustered. He isn’t overthinking it. He’s just stating a fact.
“…Oh.”
Zoro crosses his arms, watching you carefully “Is that a problem?”
You swallow “No. It’s just…”
It’s everything. It’s him always being there, always looking out for you, always treating you like someone important.
It’s a realization you should have had ages ago.
You let out a breathless laugh “I’m an idiot.”
Zoro raises an eyebrow “Well, yeah.”
You smack his arm. He smirks.
But when your hand lingers just a little too long, he doesn’t pull away.
And suddenly, you both understand... this isn’t just a habit.
It never was.
Ever since that conversation in the training room, things between you and Zoro have… shifted, but not in a bad way.
He still trains for hours. Still naps in random spots. Still bickers with Sanji.
But now, when you sit beside him, his arm naturally rests along the back of your chair.
Now, when you fight, he doesn’t just watch your back, he makes sure you’re never out of reach.
Now, when you look at him for a second too long, he looks right back.
Like he’s waiting.
Like he’s giving you the choice.
One evening, you find him on the Sunny’s deck, looking out at the ocean.
“…Can’t sleep?” he asks.
You shake your head, stepping closer “Thinking too much.”
Zoro smirks “Dangerous habit...”
You huff a laugh but don’t argue.
Instead, you stand beside him, silent for a moment before you finally ask...
“Do you regret telling me?”
Zoro frowns “Telling you what?”
“That you… actually treat me differently. That you want to.”
His jaw tightens slightly “No.”
Your heart does something strange “Good.”
You don’t give yourself time to hesitate.
Before doubt can creep in, you grab him and pull him down.
Zoro freezes.
For half a second, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe.
Then a quiet growl rumbles from his chest, and his hand cups the back of your neck as he kisses you back.
It’s firm. Solid. Like he’s been holding back for too long and refuses to anymore.
When you finally break apart, Zoro leans his forehead against yours, exhaling through his nose.
“…Finally” he mutters.
You grin “You were waiting for me?”
“Wasn’t gonna rush you” His fingers brush your jaw “You get there when you get there.”
You hum, leaning into him “And now?”
Zoro smirks “Now, you’re stuck with me.”
You kiss him again, just to make sure he knows you wouldn’t want it any other way.
── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:
Sanji has always been a flirt. That’s just how he is.
He calls Nami and Robin “my love” and “my dear”. He spins around the kitchen whenever they compliment him. He offers to carry their bags when the crew goes shopping.
But when it comes to you, it’s different.
It starts when the crew is eating dinner together.
“Sanji, can you pass the salt?” you ask.
Instead of handing you the salt shaker, Sanji grabs it, twists off the lid, and sprinkles just the right amount onto your plate.
You blink “Uh. Thanks?”
“Of course, my dear” he says smoothly. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns back to his own plate.
You think nothing of it... until you notice the way the others are watching.
Usopp raises an eyebrow “Did he just season your food for you?”
“Yeah?” You shrug “What's new about it? He's a chef and he’s just being nice.”
Luffy grins “He doesn’t do that for anyone else.”
“That’s not true,” you argue “Sanji treats everyone like this.”
Nami hums “Not exactly like this. If we wanted more salt he would start a lecture about how it would ruin his masterpiece.”
Before you can ask what she means, Sanji stands up to grab dessert. He places a plate in front of you first. It’s your favorite.
The crew stares.
You stare too “Sanji…”
He smiles “What? I made extra for you.”
Usopp coughs “Yeah. Okay. Totally normal.”
Robin chuckles behind her hand.
You shake your head and go back to eating. It’s nothing. Sanji is just being Sanji.
…Right?
But then, you start noticing other things.
When you’re cold, Sanji drapes his jacket over your shoulders without you asking.
When you need something from a high shelf, Sanji wordlessly reaches up and hands it to you.
When you’re about to trip, his hand is always there to steady you.
And every time, every single time, he does it so naturally that you don’t even think about it.
Until one day, Franky whistles and says, “You two sure act like a couple.”
You nearly drop the drink in your hands “What?!”
Sanji, who was stirring a pot at the stove, pauses.
Franky leans against the counter, grinning “You two do all that coupley stuff. He gives you the best food, takes care of you, treats you differently from everyone else—”
“That’s not true,” you say quickly “Sanji’s like this with everyone.”
Franky snorts “Nah. He does flirt with everyone. But this?” He gestures between you and Sanji “This is different.”
You glance at Sanji. He’s staring into the pot, silent.
Your face feels hot now “You guys are reading too much into things.”
“Sure we are...” Franky says, smirking. Then he leaves.
The kitchen is quiet now. You swallow and turn to Sanji.
“…Is it true?”
He looks at you. His usual confident smile is gone. Instead, there’s something softer in his eyes.
“I don’t know” he says “is it?”
Your heartbeat quickens.
Suddenly, every touch, every sweet gesture, it all feels different.
Maybe it wasn’t just a habit.
Maybe it was something else all along.
After all this the teasing has only gotten worse.
Ever since Nami and Usopp pointed out how Sanji treats you, they will not let it go.
“Here comes Sanji’s beloveeeed~” Usopp sings when you walk into the kitchen.
“I should start charging you for all the extra food Sanji makes only for you” Nami smirks.
Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t care about these things, grins at Sanji one afternoon and says “Oi, cook, when are you gonna marry y/n?”
Sanji chokes on his cigarette so hard he has to brace himself on the counter.
You groan and drag a hand down your face.
But what really drives you insane?
Sanji never denies it.
He stutters, blushes, waves his hands, but he never says “That’s not true.”
Because it is true.
And it’s starting to drive you crazy.
You try to ignore it. But then you start noticing things, even the smallest ones.
Sanji never lets you carry anything heavy.
He always pours you tea first, even before Nami and Robin.
He adjusts your chair at dinner like it’s second nature.
And the worst part? He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
But you do.
And now, every time he gives you that look—the one that’s soft, full of admiration, like you hung the damn sun in the sky—your heart stumbles over itself.
This has to stop.
Or something has to change.
It happens one evening after dinner.
You’re in the kitchen, helping Sanji clean up. He hums as he washes the dishes, sleeves rolled up, golden hair falling over his forehead.
You watch him for a second, then take a deep breath.
“Sanji.”
He glances at you, smiling “Yes, my love?”
You grip the counter “Why do you act like we’re together?”
Sanji freezes.
The faucet keeps running. The kitchen is warm with the smell of spices. But Sanji is frozen.
Slowly, he turns his head toward you “…P-Pardon?”
You cross your arms “You treat me differently. Even the crew notices. You never do this stuff for anyone else.”
Sanji swallows hard “I—”
“You never deny it,” you press “and honestly? I’m tired of waiting for you to finally say something.”
Sanji stares at you like you’ve just flipped his entire world upside down.
His hands shake. His lips part like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out.
“…Sanji.” Your voice softens “Do you want this to be real?”
A shuddering breath leaves him. He looks at you, eyes wide, vulnerable.
“More than anything...” he whispers.
Your heartbeat stutters.
That’s it. That’s all you need to hear.
You step forward, grab the front of his shirt, and kiss him.
Sanji malfunctions.
His entire body locks up, like his brain has completely short-circuited.
For a solid two seconds, he does not move.
Then a noise escapes him, something between a whimper and a desperate sigh, and his hands come up to cup your face, pulling you closer.
The kiss is warm, overwhelming, but soft, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tight.
When you finally pull away, he’s redder than his own suit.
“…M-Mon amour,” he breathes, voice shaking “You...you actually...”
You smirk “Took us long enough, cook.”
Sanji makes a strangled sound and immediately buries his face in your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you.
Outside, the crew is losing their minds.
“TOLD YOU!” Usopp shouts.
“I WON THE BET!” Nami cheers.
“Oi, Sanji, you alive in there?” Zoro snickers.
Sanji doesn’t answer. He’s too busy melting against you, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.
And honestly?
You think you’ll let him.
── .✦ Trafalgar D. Law:
Law is not the kind of person who likes physical contact. He doesn’t let most people touch him. He keeps his distance, always standing at the edge of conversations with his arms crossed. If someone bumps into him, they get a glare.
But for some reason, you are different.
It starts when Bepo hands you a coat one evening.
“Here,” he says, tail flicking “you left this in the lounge.”
You blink at it. It’s black, long, and definitely not yours.
“This isn’t mine” you say, confused.
Bepo tilts his head “Oh. But you always wear the captain’s coat, so I thought it was yours now...”
You freeze.
“Wait. What?”
Shachi walks by and hears the conversation. He grins “Yeah, you totally do. Every time you’re cold, you steal his coat.”
Penguin nods “And Law never complains.”
You open your mouth. Close it. Try to remember.
…Okay, maybe you have borrowed Law’s coat a few times. But that’s just because it’s warm! And because it’s there! And because...
Oh no.
Your stomach twists “I... I do not...”
“Sure you don’t...” Shachi teases “What’s next? Calling him ‘dear’?”
You groan and shove the coat at Bepo before walking away.
But now, you can’t stop thinking about it.
After this, you start noticing other things. Like how Law always lets you into his personal space.
How you can tug his hat down over his eyes without him pushing you away.
How he casually rests his hand on your shoulder when he stands next to you.
One day, you trip over a loose crate. Before you even hit the ground, a familiar blue glow surrounds you... Law’s Room.
In an instant, you’re back on your feet, completely unharmed.
The Heart Pirates snicker.
“Captain didn’t even think” Penguin whispers.
“He never uses Room for anyone else’s clumsiness” Shachi adds.
You glare at them “I heard that.”
They just smirk.
Law doesn’t say anything. He just sighs and keeps walking, like saving you without thinking is the most natural thing in the world.
Your heart does something weird. You ignore it.
Later, you sit on a crate, arms crossed. Law stands next to you, reading a medical book.
You glance at him “Your crew keeps calling me ‘Captain’s partner.’”
He doesn’t look up “So?”
“So, why?”
He flips a page “Probably because you act like one.”
Your brain short-circuits.
You stare “Excuse me?”
Law finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow “You’re always in my quarters, you steal my coat, and you act like you belong next to me. They’re not wrong.”
Your face burns “I... You let me do all that!”
He smirks “I know.”
You open your mouth, but no words come out.
Because suddenly, you realize... he has let you. And he still is.
Ever since Bepo and the others pointed out how Law treats you differently, it’s been impossible to ignore.
The extra care during missions. The way he always stands just a little closer than necessary. The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his shoulder, even his hand, when no one else would dare.
But what really gives him away?
The way his ears burn red every time you get too close.
And yet he never says anything.
If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was running an experiment to see how long he could keep this up before you lost your mind.
So tonight you’re calling him out.
You find him in his quarters, buried in medical books.
“Hey, Law.” You lean against the desk, arms crossed “Can I ask you something?”
His eyes flick up “What?”
You tilt your head “Do you like me?”
Law chokes.
Not just a little cough... he full-on chokes on air, slamming his book shut as if that’ll somehow save him.
“What—?!” He coughs into his fist “Where the hell did that come from?”
You raise an eyebrow “You tell me.”
Law scowls, shifting uncomfortably “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh? Am I?” You step closer.
He stiffens “What are you...?”
You place your hands on the arms of his chair and lean in, caging him in.
His breath hitches.
Oh. Oh.
He is not prepared for this.
“Law,” you murmur, watching his face closely “you never let anyone touch you, but you let me.”
His jaw clenches “That doesn’t—”
“You always make sure I rest. You check my injuries before anyone else’s.”
“Because you’re reckless—”
“And...” you lean even closer “your ears are red right now.”
Law swallows.
You smirk “So, wanna try again?”
For a long moment, he just stares at you, lips parted, golden eyes darting between yours.
Then, in a last-ditch effort, he growls... “You’re annoying.”
You hum “Maybe.”
And then you kiss him.
Law goes still.
For the first time since you’ve known him, he is completely speechless.
But then a quiet sound escapes him, and his hand suddenly grips your wrist, holding you there.
You almost pull back, unsure, until his other hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he kisses you back.
It’s hesitant at first, but when you don’t pull away, something shifts.
The kiss deepens, his grip tightens, and the heat radiating off of him is enough to make you dizzy.
When you finally part, Law exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours.
“…You’re gonna be a problem” he mutters, voice rough.
You grin “Yeah?”
His fingers tighten in your hair “Yeah.”
And then, despite everything, he kisses you again.
Because for once in his life he’s done running.
── .✦ Portgas D. Ace:
Ace is naturally affectionate.
He throws an arm around people’s shoulders, laughs loudly, and grins like the world is a joke he’s in on. He’s warm but also because he makes people feel welcome.
So it’s not weird that he touches you a lot.
Right?
It starts when Marco sits down next to you, smirking.
“You and Ace finally together, yoi?”
You look at him confused “what do you mean?”
“A couple… are you two a couple?”
You almost drop your drink “What? No!”
Marco raises an eyebrow “You sure? He always saves you a seat at meals. Always gives you his food if you ask. Always keeps an eye on you during fights.”
You roll your eyes “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just like that.”
“Not with everyone” Marco takes a sip of his drink “Just you.”
You open your mouth to argue, but then you don’t know what to say, because now, you’re thinking about it.
The next time Ace sits beside you at dinner, you notice how he slides his plate a little closer to yours, letting you steal his food.
The next time the crew docks at an island, you notice how he instinctively waits for you before walking off together.
The next time you’re about to trip, you don’t even get the chance to fall, Ace grabs your wrist and steadies you like it’s second nature.
And maybe it is second nature.
“Careful, Ace,” one of the division commanders teases “If you keep acting like that, y/n might actually think you’re in love.”
Ace laughs, scratching the back of his head “Yeah, yeah.”
You laugh too. Because it’s just a joke… Right?
One night, you sit together on the deck, watching the ocean.
You fidget for a second before saying “The crew keeps calling us a couple”
Ace hums “Yeah?”
You glance at him “Why do you think that is?”
He leans back, arms behind his head, and grins “Probably because we act like one.”
You choke on your own breath “Excuse me?!”
Ace tilts his head “I mean, we do everything together. You always take my food, and I always let you. You always pull me out of trouble, and I always let you. Feels natural, doesn’t it?”
Your brain short-circuits.
Because now that you think about it... yeah, it does feel natural.
“…Ace,” you say slowly “Are we...?”
He looks at you, amusement flickering in his eyes “What do you think?”
Your stomach flips.
Because suddenly, you’re not sure where the habit ends and the feelings begin.
After this, Ace keeps flirting with you all the time.
It’s just who he is.
Winks across the deck. Throwing an arm around your shoulders. Calling you hot stuff like it’s your actual name.
You’re used to it.
But after the teasing from Marco and Thatch, after realizing that Ace treats you differently, you start to wonder.
Is he just playing around? Or is there something real underneath?
There’s only one way to find out.
The perfect opportunity comes one afternoon, when Ace flops down next to you on the Moby Dick’s deck, grinning.
“Hey,” he drawls, resting an arm behind his head “Miss me?”
You smirk “I saw you literally two hours ago.”
“That’s two hours too long.” He winks “Bet you were thinking about me the whole time.”
You hum, tilting your head “You really think that, huh?”
Ace chuckles “C’mon, you love me.”
You raise an eyebrow “Prove it.”
He blinks “Huh?”
You shift, leaning closer with a sly smile “You say all this stuff, Ace. You flirt, you tease... but are you actually serious?”
For the first time, he hesitates.
Just for a second, but it’s enough.
“…Of course I am,” he says, but his usual confidence isn’t all there.
You smirk “Then show me.”
Before he can react, you grab his hat, his precious hat, and plop it onto your own head.
Ace short-circuits.
“Oi! That’s...!” He reaches for it instinctively but stops mid-motion, staring at you.
You tilt the brim with a smirk “What? You said you liked me, right?”
Ace swallows “Y-Yeah?”
“Then just take it back.”
You expect him to snatch it back playfully.
What you don’t expect is for Ace to grin, eyes flickering with mischief, and suddenly tackle you onto the deck.
You yelp as he hovers over you, forearms braced on either side of your head.
The crew whoops in the background, but neither of you pay them any attention.
Ace smirks down at you “You think you’re funny, huh?”
You grin “A little.”
Ace shakes his head, chuckling, but then his expression softens.
He reaches up, tilts the hat back just enough to see your face properly.
And then without thinking he leans down and kisses you.
It’s grinning into the kiss kind of playful. It’s warm and teasing but full of something deeper.
And when he pulls back, face way too close, he murmurs “Now you gotta prove it.”
Your heart races.
You don’t back down. Instead, you tug him down by his necklace and kiss him again.
This time, Ace melts.
When you finally break apart, Ace huffs out a breathless laugh.
“Well,” he grins “Guess you do love me.”
You roll your eyes “Shut up.”
But you don’t stop him when he kisses you one more time.
Because, honestly?
He’s right.
── .✦ Sabo:
Sabo is easy to be around.
He’s kind, smart, and always ready to listen. He laughs at your jokes, never forgets your favorite things, and somehow always knows when you need him.
So it’s no surprise that you spend a lot of time together.
But apparently, the way you act around him is a little… suspicious.
It starts when you’re walking through the Revolutionary Army base with Koala.
“So,” she says casually “when are you and Sabo going to make it official?”
You nearly trip over your own feet “What?!”
Koala grins “Come on, don’t play dumb. You two already act like a couple.”
You scoff “No, we don’t.”
She raises an eyebrow “Oh really? Who’s the first person Sabo looks for when he gets back from a mission?”
“…Me.”
“Who’s the only person he lets borrow his gloves?”
“…Me.”
“And who’s the only one he lets fall asleep on his shoulder without complaining?”
You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.
Because—oh.
Oh.
Koala smirks “See what I mean?”
You shake your head “That doesn’t mean anything. We’re just close.”
She shrugs “If you say so.”
But now, you can’t stop thinking about it. You start noticing things, like how Sabo always finds a reason to sit next to you during meals, or how he reaches out to fix your collar or tuck your hair behind your ear like it’s normal, or how he always makes sure you have a blanket when you fall asleep at your desk, even though no one else gets that treatment.
And the worst part?
Now that you’re paying attention, everyone else is too.
“I swear, it’s like they’re married” one soldier mutters.
“They finish each other’s sentences” another whispers.
“Bet they don’t even realize” someone else chuckles.
You groan and drop your head onto the table.
Sabo, sitting beside you, blinks “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing” you mumble.
He frowns, then wordlessly slides his drink toward you.
You stare at it “…Did you just give me your drink?”
He shrugs “You like it more than I do.”
You glance around. Several soldiers are watching now, smirking.
Slowly, you push the drink back to him.
Sabo looks confused “You don’t want it?”
Your face burns “Nope. I’m fine.”
He tilts his head, then shrugs and takes a sip.
The others snicker.
You sigh.
Later that night, you sit beside him on the rooftop, watching the stars.
“Sabo,” you say carefully “do we… act like a couple?”
He hums “Why?”
“People keep saying we do.”
Sabo leans back on his hands, thinking. Then he smiles “I guess I can see why.”
Your heart skips a beat “You can?”
“Well, we’re always together,” he says easily “I trust you more than anyone. You take care of me, I take care of you. Feels normal.”
You stare at him “That’s… kind of a couple thing, don’t you think?”
Sabo looks at you for a long moment. Then he smirks.
“Well,” he says, voice teasing but gentle “do you want it to be?”
Your breath catches.
And suddenly, the answer seems obvious.
Sabo has always been easy to be around.
You never have to force a conversation. Never have to second-guess his presence.
He’s just there, a steady warmth beside you, the hand that always steadies your back when you walk through the Revolutionary camp, the person you find yourself naturally leaning against when you’re tired.
And the thing is?
He never pulls away.
Even now, sitting beside you near the fire after a long day, his arm rests lightly along the back of your seat. Close enough to feel, but not demanding.
It’s natural.
But tonight, something’s different.
There’s a quiet between you, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unsaid.
You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your head is resting against his shoulder, and instead of shifting away, Sabo just exhales softly, tilting his head against yours.
You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
“…I like this” you murmur, barely thinking.
Sabo hums “Me too” A pause. Then... “I always have.”
Your heart stutters.
Slowly, you lift your head, turning just enough to meet his gaze.
His expression is calm, too calm, like he’s waiting for you to understand something he’s known for a long time.
And you do.
Because of course it was always him.
You don’t say anything. You don’t need to.
Instead, you reach up, gently tracing your fingers along his jaw.
Sabo closes his eyes briefly at the touch before opening them again, watching you with something unreadable, something deep.
Then, without hesitation, he leans in.
The kiss is slow, certain.
It’s not rushed, not desperate because this was never a question.
It was always going to be this.
When you part, Sabo lingers, his forehead resting against yours.
His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together easily.
“…Feels like we should’ve done that a long time ago” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours.
You smile “Maybe. But I think we got here at the right time.”
Sabo chuckles softly, squeezing your hand “Yeah. I think so too.”
And when he kisses you again, it feels like something that was simply meant to be.
More Posts from 4rticbolt and Others
Lay Off! |Master-List|
Roronoa Zoro x !Fem!Reader, fluff, angst/comfort, anxiety, reader snaps, anger-issues, make-up, swearing, lowkey made me tear up.
Summary: You get overstimulated and finally break...
A/N: I have finally revised this fic. I am so glad, because I can’t believe I WROTE THIS 😭😭 There might be a few slip-ups, but it’s WAY better from before.
(Taking a break changes your grammar and set-up istg.)
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It'd been mid-day.
The hours had been painstakingly fucking long, and you'd cooped yourself up in your room to avoid further attention.
You didn't know what set you off, but you just wanted it to stop.
Your skin crawled, and your head felt like it was going to explode. Your limbs helplessly flexed and turned, attempting to alieve your symptoms, but nothing would let up. You were wound. And you were wound tight. Your body wouldn’t let you loose, leaving you to suffer as anxiety prickled over your skin.
You tried to distract yourself with a small craft, you really did, but only more frustration welled. You couldn’t keep still, and you finally cursed. Hands slammed against the desk, sending your paper crafts across the wood, into your mess of scraps.
Tears welled, and you pushed yourself away with your rolling chair—avoiding the further abuse you’d inflict on your workspace. Heat raged, and your nails drug through your hair, trying to pull yourself out of your head, but it wasn’t enough. No matter the distance you put within yourself, it never felt right.
You were stressed, anxious, and torn that you pushed the ones you loved away. And you could never fucking explain why. You just felt so angry. So turmoiled, that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself.
Your fists curled in your hair and a burning sensation followed, leaving you to feel something other than your pain.
But the unexplainable feeling grew, and it coursed through you like an endless loop of rage and helplessness. You didn’t know how to control it, and you didn’t know how to deal with it, you just couldn’t function.
Left, to right. Over and over, you paced your room. Trying to calm down, but a distant knock echoed.
"Hey, lunch is..." Usopp's voice trailed off as he saw your state, and he quickly backed off.
"Uh, I'll let Sanji know you—“
"Just go, please!" you snapped, banging your fists against your head. Your chest heaved, and Usopp’s breath caught.
"Yep! On it!" he squeaked, shutting your door.
Silence washed over the room, but peace didn't follow like it usually did. It was unbearable, and your body felt intolerable. Like you needed to do something, or you needed something. You couldn’t remember what or why, and nothing clearly came through…
The restlessness grew, and it was boiling.
You shakily went back to your desk, picking up the small paper you'd originally thrown with your trembling hands, trying to convince yourself it'd be okay. That you'd get through it.
You could just mend it. You could do it. It'd be okay. Just calm down.
You're fine.
It was just some small papery flowers, how hard could it be? Anyone could do it—you had this. You always did. You got frustrated and eventually came back to fix it. You just needed time.
So why couldn't you do it right now? You gave yourself plenty of time.
Though you still couldn't you function, and couldn't you think. Why the hell was it that you felt like you had no time? Like there was nothing but everything coming at you all at once? Why couldn't you—
"Oi, what's going on?" Zoro appeared by the door, and his voice was firm—steady. His presence was grounding, and it’d been something you’d always loved, but your body strangely hated it in the moment.
You were too lost in it to realize, but Usopp had probably been worried.
He must have told Zoro, because everyone knew he'd been your paper-weight. He kept you together, like a stack of paper, or in other words—aligned control. But, in the moment, you couldn’t understand that, and you’d eventually come to regret it later.
Zoro was tense at your silence, as he wasn’t often familiar with it. He was used to your laughter, and your clumsy remarks, even your stupid comments.
But he knew that wasn’t always you.
You kept yourself together well, until you couldn’t and you hid. He wasn’t an emotional guru or anything, but he’d been attentive enough to pick up on your behaviors.
Especially, when things took a turn for the worse.
He'd easily seen it this morning when you came in for break-fast and left, sparing no good-morning, no sweet smile, no teasing—you were just struggling.
You weren’t acting like you, and he hated it.
Zoro wouldn’t seem the empathetic type, but when it came to the ones he loved—his chest would uncomfortably ache. Especially when it came to you, who held herself so high yet was hurting so much deep down.
The sniper had startled him awake, quickly telling him—or, rather rambling to him, that you weren’t okay. It seemed rather urgent, and he looked offly looked worried, so Zoro obviously wouldn’t set it aside.
If you needed help, or guidance—you just did.
There was no easier way to put it, and it wasn’t embarrassing, it was just life.
And Zoro was never one to bullshit, but you could be sensitive at times. It wasn’t a bad thing, it just made things harder for you.
You could get worked up over the smallest of things, unintentionally snapping—or taking it the wrong way, blocking yourself off…
He’d seen the signs.
He always had.
And this was clearly one of those times, where something had gotten the better of you.
But little did he know, it wasn't just your anger. It wasn’t like the other times, something was painfully different. This was deeper.
Calmly, Zoro spoke your name.
You were quick to snap, but you turned away covering your face. You tried to calm yourself and catch your breath—but yet again, it wasn’t helping.
"Yes, I know, just give me second.” you replied, uncharacteristically hitting your desk. You hands slammed your poor creation, and tears began to well. You were cracking, and more frustration poured.
You snapped again, and a curse flew out your lips as you kicked your desk. It was harsh, and you were sent roughly back against the wall in your chair—creating a slam.
At your action, he knew you were overwhelmed. Hell, he’d felt it as soon as he came in, but as you curled in on yourself—digging your nails, it only confirmed it.
A muffled sob broke through the silence, and he was beside you in seconds.
In two steps, he’d crouched down infront of you.
His calloused hands, prevented you from hurting yourself, though his touch wasn’t rough. It was strong, and it was strong enough to keep you from pushing away or thrashing.
He needed you here, with him, and not lost somewhere else.
"Breathe." he ordered.
"I can’t, just stop, don’t—fucking touch me!” you choked, attempting to squirm, "Zoro stop it.”
Your lover doesn’t break, nor’ does he stop. He only holds you tighter, as if he knows you’ll only spiral further.
Your breath is labored, struggled—and he can already see you slip.
His gaze softens, and he steadily pulls you into his lap. Zoro doesn't comfort you with words, but he does with the way he knows how—his presence.
By being there, holding you—grounding you, tightening his grip as you stubbornly try to push away, he doesn't let go.
He silently urges you to relax; creating absent circles over your back, as his hand tightens at the base of your neck, pushing you easily to his shoulder.
His legs lock to come around your own, pulling, to keep you in.
"Stop fighting me, you'll only make it worse," his voice rumbles over the crown of your head, and you can’t help but feel comforted.
You want to agree, you want to stop, but your body doesn't. It involuntarily moves, and you cry as you push against his chest, growing light-headed.
But the dizziness forces your body to relax.
Your shoulders slack, and you ease. Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath.
"You good, now?" he asks, keeping a gentle grip.
You sniffle, nodding as you can't bare yourself to look up at him. You don't even know what came over you, and you can barely remember what happened.
You feel like an idiot.
Embarrassed, guilty—ashamed, just wrong.
"Yeah, I’m sorry.” you whispered, leaning back.
Though Zoro doesn’t let up, he keeps you in his lap and his hands shift to cradle your face.
“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” his thumbs wipes your tears, and you can’t help but lean into them.
“I should’ve come down earlier, I didn’t know you were getting so worked up.”
"It's okay," you mumbled, lowering your gaze, but he tilts you back up.
"____, it's not. You know that, what’s going on?”
"I don't know," you manage out, and his look crushed you.
You know he wants to understand, he always does, the whole crew does, but you’re not even sure yourself. A weight topples over you, and you suddenly remember the way you snapped at Usopp.
Shit. You didn’t mean that—you didn’t mean any of this.
Why weren’t you doing anything right?
"I just, I don’t know.” your voice broke, and you turned away. “I couldn’t stop, it wouldn’t go away.”
"Then, why didn't you come to me?"
"Because, it's too much, everything feels like too much.” you whimpered, covering a hand over your mouth. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to snap at you—or Usopp. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”
"Hey—stop, look at me." he adjusted you forward, and this time he held your gaze.
His eyes carried a warmth, and it felt like a safety you never had the privilege of experiencing.
"Sorry,” you whispered.
"No. Don’t. Don’t, go apologizing. No one needs that.” Zoro’s hand ran through your hair, and he focused forward. You needed to hear this, and he’d say it over and over until you didn’t.
“You don’t need to apologize for feeling something, no one expects you to be perfect all the time—and I sure as hell don’t give a shit if you snap at shit you didn’t mean.” his lips twitched into a smile, as he remembered a time you cursed at Luffy for grabbing your food.
He liked your unexpected anger, even if it was this.
“The crew sees, I see you. And that’s all that matters.” he murmurs, and he sees you crack a smile.
Good. You needed that.
“You hear me?”
“Yeah, I do.” you sniffled, nodding your head, “loud and clear.”
He let out a breath, “good. Now C’mere.”
Zoro shifted, leaning against the wall to hug you close. He was being soft, and he was being kind.
In his own Zoro, way of course, but he was still there. He always would be.
He cupped the side of your head, letting you bury yourself into the crook of his neck.
Your lover wanted to take away anything that had harmed you, but that took time—and he realized that. But he didn’t mind hugging you a little longer to fix it.
He wasn’t going anywhere, and little did he know, this was all anyone could ask for.
Someone who still loved you at your lowest.
RUN, RABBIT, RUN: Part 3
To the Garden
Trafalgar Law x Reader Zombie Apocalypse AU
Part 3 of my @infixop gift for @namism!
CW: Zombies, mentions of death. Pretty tame compared to the other parts tbh. No use of Y/N or gendered pronouns.
WC: 5384
<-Prev Masterlist
(A/N at the bottom)
Law is gone when you wake up.
You don’t realize at first. The warmth from the blankets and the soft mattress below you keeps you on the edges of sleep. With your eyes closed, and the thoughts in your head not yet coherent, the past three days are almost like a bad dream. Nothing is real, and when you sit up, you’re sure you’ll be back in your own bed, waiting for your alarm to sound despite waking before it. You’ll get up, drink water and go through your morning routine like usual. Almost like everything was just a nightmare to wake up from.
Your eyes snap open.
The bed beside you is empty.
You frantically scramble out of the covers, tripping over yourself to slide on your shoes as you hurry to the door.
The apartment living room is empty. So is the bathroom. So is the kitchen.
Where is he? Through your frantic thoughts, that one rises to the surface. Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted him. Maybe you should've left the night before— abandon him before he could you.
Your bat is by the front door. It’s untouched, the wet carrion that covered it now dry. You grab it, and yank open the front door.
Law is standing there.
His arm is still snug in its sling and a surprised expression is plastered across his face.
“Are you okay?” He says.
A rush of relief spreads through you, wobbling your knees. You don’t fall. You won’t allow yourself to— but you still speak up, voice hoarse from sleep. “I thought you left.”
Law rolls his eyes at that, nudging you out of the way as he enters the room. He drops Kikoku from his shoulder, resting her against the little ottoman by the door, and sets a plain grocery bag on top. He then turns to you, easing your bat from your hand and placing it gently by Kikoku.
“I said I won’t leave you.” Law says, then gesturing to the grocery bag. “I was looking for food. He left a lot of supplies.”
At the mention of ‘he’, you gag.
Right. You killed someone yesterday. Law, if he looked through the whole building, must have found the body already. He’s probably put two and two together. Law steps towards you, reaching out, but you shake your head.
“Did you go upstairs?” You choke out, eyes wide.
Law pauses then. He’s staring at you again. His gold gaze is heavy, different from last night but all the same.
You feel your stomach flip.
“Yes.” He finally says, voice even and soft. “I don’t fault you for doing what you did. I can imagine it was a moment of intense stress, and you did what you needed to survive.”
You shrink back. An array of emotions swell up from the deep dark well inside you. You feel the need to scream and cry and laugh all at once. So you do nothing. You sway the few steps to the little armchair, and collapse into it.
Your eyes are dry.
The silence lingers. Despite the sleep you got, you’re still so, so tired. The armchair melts around you, and it feels like you’re falling. The world blurs and you can’t feel your toes. The void of nothingness is a comforting presence. It’s easy to fade into it, disappear into somewhere far from here.
Law steps in front of you. He kneels, the sling a bright contrast from his dark clothes and hair. Carefully, he touches your hand, lying limp on the armrest.
“Hey.”
You glance at him, feeling returning somewhat to your body.
“Let’s eat first.”
~~~~
Law seems to be handling everything too well.
You suppose it's the nature of his job, to keep calm and keep others calm even in the most stressful of situations. He’s good at urging you back from yourself, to get you moving again despite the hole in your own morality.
After packing the leftovers, you leave the shade of the building for a bright, hot sun and light blue skies. The post rain air is fresh. Months of dust has been washed away, leaving behind cleaner streets slowly staining under your feet. Law is a lot more talkative today— or there might just be a lot to get through.
He waits until you’re well on your way to start, around three blocks from that fateful apartment building.
“I have a satellite phone. It’s out of batteries. They’re type AA. We should aim to find some today.” Law says.
“Was there none at the apartment?” You say.
“No.” Law says. “I checked.”
You make a sound of acknowledgement. The sun is melting away the discomfort of the morning. It’s hot on your skin, and you’ve already opened the front of your jacket. The lapels sway with your every step.
“I can use the phone to contact the camp I was living at on the other side. Then someone can come pick us up.”
“There are others there?” You ask.
“Yes.” Law replies. “I know some very resourceful people. We managed to make it across the river before things got as bad as they are now. It’s pretty safe there.”
The question from yesterday morning comes back to you. And this time, you’re not afraid to ask it. “Why are you here?”
When Law doesn’t answer, you stop. At the disappearance of your footsteps, Law turns around. You frown at him, then rephrase the question.
“Why are you here? On this side.”
Law starts walking again, but this time, he does answer. “There is a pharmacist at the camp. He wanted to make an antibody for the infection but we didn't have a lab. I’m the only person there that knows what he needs and might potentially need. We can’t waste a trip like this.”
“Why didn’t he come himself?” You jog to catch up.
“He’s sixteen.” Law replies.
“Oh.” You say.
Law is easier to talk to than you thought. The topic quickly reels from the camp to Law’s medical career to the various series you both used to read— and Law has never gotten as animated as now, expressions exaggerated and voice tinted with a childish excitement.
You can’t help but laugh. Not at Law, but with the contagious happiness that is spilling from him. The sun is making everything better. You welcome the warmth with open arms.
It’s been around three hours since you left the apartment. The streets are mostly empty. Occasionally, the two of you have been stepping into empty shops in search of the batteries Law so desperately needs. It’s the third one, always the third one, that you enter where you find something you need.
The cracked glass door tears away easily with your kick. The shop is dark, but with your bat, the lack of light does not scare you. You shuffle around first, doing an interior check. When all you find is the crack of plastic bits underfoot and the scent of dust, you motion Law inside as well. There isn't much as you slowly look around, browsing the empty shelves until something makes contact with your foot and shoots across the aisle.
“You okay?” You hear Law ask from the other side.
“Yes.” You call back. You look down to see what you kicked. It’s a little toy plane, it’s bulky body speaking of a potential battery cavity. You pick the toy up. It’s heavy and full of dust. You turn it around, blowing the dust off the cover, and pop it open.
Inside are batteries! AA ones at that— and you quickly unlatch the rest of the cover, ripping out the pair.
“Here!” You run around the isle, handing them over to Law, who eases his bag from his arm, and sets it on the ground. You help him unzip the top, and are surprised to see the contents, finally. Endless clear plastic dishes and tubes and pipettes, all organized in sterilized packaging. He carefully rummages through the organized mess, pulling out the satellite phone.
It’s almost like a radio, with how chunky it looks, but you guess it can be called a phone if you compare it to the ones from a century ago. You help him unlatch the back, popping out the dead batteries and switching them with the new ones.
With bated breath, you wait for Law to turn it on. The seconds are agonizing— but you breathe a sigh of relief when the screen on the front lights up.
“Oh good . . .” You say, mostly to yourself, as Law begins to dial. The sound of tapping buttons fills the air, and then you wait.
“Law?” The line connects with a beep. A voice travels through from the other side. Law visibly deflates. He slides down against the counter. His coat sags against the floor, and Law leans forward, resting against your shoulder for support.
“Yes Bepo, it’s me.”
“Law!” You think this Bepo guy must be crying from the way his voice cracks. “I knew you’re okay! Guys! It’s Law—” The other side of the line descends into chaos.
You turn to Law then, and he laughs. The sound is low, and he sags more of his weight against you, causing you to almost fall over. You curse at him, trying to push him off but Law doesn’t budge. He merely laughs harder.
“Law?” The same voice comes through from the other side. “Tell us where you are!”
Law, in all his genius, begins answering in numbers.
“How do you even know that shit?” You interrupt. “Just tell them the street we’re on. We all live here, you know.”
“Who’s that?”
Law hands the phone over to you, and you introduce yourself. There’s an apprehension when Bepo responds. He quickly asks for Law again.
“Franky will be there in around thirty minutes.” Bepo says. “Be careful, there is still a lot of them around the bridge.”
“Okay.” Law replies. He hangs up soon after, turning to you with a big grin. It’s almost childlike, and you return the smile, feeling true relief for the first time in days. There are people coming for you. All you need to do is survive for thirty more minutes.
Suddenly, your airway starts to tickle. It must be from the dust, abundant and glittering under the light of the sun, and you sneeze, barely able to block the reaction and subsequently jamming your elbow right into Law’s ribs.
He lets out a grunt— while your body tingles from the force. However, the dust does not stop its scratchy path into your mouth and nose.
“Sorry!” You wheeze, eyes watery. The dust is not helping. “I’m going to step outside.” You don’t bother to check if Law follows you or not. There, a few heaving breaths seems to be enough for your airway to clear.
It’s nice, really nice outside. There’s a part of you that is suddenly sleepy. You’re reminded of cats, basking in the light of the sun as they take an afternoon nap.
“How far are we from the river?” You ask suddenly. You’ve been to this part of town before, you think. There used to be a park around here that was quite popular with families. You don’t wait for Law when you start walking. It’s like something’s pulling you beneath your feet, and nothing else seems to matter. Nothing else but the sunny skies and the growing sound of rushing water.
“We shouldn’t go too far.” You hear Law say beside you.
But there isn’t anything out on the streets. And it’s so nice outside. But you’ve never been this much of an outdoorsy person. Maybe it’s the fact that things are going to be okay for the first time in a long while. But then, you’re not quite sure why you’re so eager to be outside, either.
You’re not sure for how long you walk. But it was long enough that the road suddenly breaks into a little patch of woods, growing downhill to the riverbank. Under the sun, the river is glimmering. The water rushes by with a speed you can see even from here. And just out of curiosity, that morbid, deadly thing, you step out to the street, where the view of the bridge would be the clearest.
Like before, the bridge was swarmed with zombies. But now, somehow, the fear you were engulfed with before has faded. They’re still gross, disgusting. Stinking of death. You don’t shake. Not even when a few turn and spot you far too soon, beginning to tumble after you in a big wave. However, a curious thing catches your attention. On the tops of some of the zombie heads, you think you see sprouts. White and green, growing at different heights and different sizes. You don’t get a chance to understand what you’re seeing because Law starts to leave.
This time, he makes sure to grab your hand.
The sun is hot on top of your head. You tire just as easily as you did a week ago, but this time, Law makes sure you keep up. The zombies are as slow as ever. Like always, you mutter thanks to whatever is out there that’s keeping the zombies slow. Law’s steps are fast and sure, and you rely on his momentum to keep you going. But then the sound of an engine catches your attention. You turn back, and from across the white bridge, you see a truck. It’s painted blue and red, obnoxious with stripes and stars. But that’s not why you can’t pull your eyes away.
You haven't seen a working motor vehicle since the military pulled out. The truck charges across the bridge, driving like there is unlimited access to gas. It launches bodies over the railings, crushing them under its massive wheels.
Law stops, and you crash into him, unable to take your eyes off of it. Then it drives off the bridge and makes a sharp right turn right towards you.
It crushes through the hoard so easily, splashing body parts and fluids everywhere. Some of it lands on your jacket, and you hurry with Law to get out the way as the truck drives in a circle around you, crushing all the zombies all the while the booming reverberation of hard bass, muffled by the truck windows, thunder around you. When the last of the danger in your immediate area disappears, the window in the passenger seat rolls down. Immediately, some heavy rock song begins pouring out the windows. Law gestures at the people inside to turn it down, and the music begins to fade to a more tolerable volume.
You blink against the shine of the truck, trying to catch a glimpse of your rescuers. Just inside the passenger’s side, you see a man with short green hair. He’s laying leisurely against the seat, hands behind his head, appearing to be asleep despite the pounding bass from a moment ago.
“Traffy! It’s super to see you alive! What’s up with the arm?” From behind the green haired man, you see another person. The reflection of his sunglasses catches your eyes first, then the volume of shocking blue hair next. His voice is loud and boisterous, and the Hawaiian shirt he wears is too colourful and far too clean. It’s almost too much for you after this week of somber death and the struggle to survive. You understand the power of a positive attitude— but this is too much. You reach out, grabbing onto Law’s coat. He shifts, blocking you from view.
“Fractured it.” Law says, tone flat and bored. “Is Chopper good to take a look at it today?”
“Absolutely!” The driver sends the both of you a large thumbs up from inside the truck. It then shifts into a pointer finger, aimed straight at you. “And who’s this?”
You gulp, and say your name. The air shifts slightly as the man with the green hair cracks an eye open, looking you up and down. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. He’s dangerous. But you can face danger.
You lift your chin, stepping out from behind Law, shoving your shaking hands into your pockets.
“No bites?” The green haired man asks.
Law shakes his head. “I can confirm not.”
They seem to take Law’s word for it. The driver’s smile is back. “Super! Get in the back and we’ll go.”
“He’s Franky, and the other guy is Zoro.” Law whispers to you he moves to open the backseat. The door doesn’t budge.
“Hey.” He says. “Open the door.”
Franky shoots him an exaggerated look of despair.
“I know someone who will get mad if you get the goo on the seats.”
“Does that even matter right now?” Law sighs. “Did you not bring plastic sheets?”
“Forgot it.” Zoro shrugs.
Yikes. You’re not sure your rescuers actually cared about the two of you at all. The back of the truck is open to the elements and very big. You’ve never ridden in the open trunk of a truck before. It’s an experience you fancied. The idea of the wind flowing through your hair, the sun pouring down on your face—
“That’s fine. We can sit in the trunk.” You say to Law.
He nods, and the two of you make your way to the back. Popping the trunk open, you climb up first, dropping the bags and weapons on the floor of the trunk. Then, you reach out to help Law up. He takes your hand, and steps up against the little ledge where a license plate used to be, boosting himself up to sit beside you. You pull up the open back of the truck trunk, feeling the ledge click back in place.
“Y’all good back there?” You hear Franky shout.
“Yes!” You answer.
The truck shoots off before you can sit down.
You’re hit instantly with a hard gust of wind. It blows you up and back, threatening to knock you against the railing of the trunk. Law grabs you before it can happen. His hand is warm against your wrist. He pulls you down beside him, leaning against the little window at the back of the seats. There, the hood shelters you somewhat from the artificial breeze, and you watch as the truck turns around crumbling streets and abandoned skyscrapers, until it’s barrelling down the very same bridge you and Law worked so hard to get to.
Railings and zombies and the river below rip past you, and you can’t help but gaze at the flickering sunlight reflecting across the water below. Turning forwards, the only thing you can see is the noon cityscape in front of you, receding with each second. The last week of terrible things seem to shrink with it. Everything you experienced growing less and less, until it’s just a little speck in a snowglobe, one the exact model of your ruined home.
~~~~
The camp is not a ‘camp’. It’s a compound.
You realize so when the gates open for the truck, tall, chain linked fences sliding towards the left, right as Franky slowed the truck down. You had peered over the edge, eyes growing wider the closer you got. There is a wall around the perimeter. It’s tall, taller than you sitting in the trunk of this huge truck. They're thick too, almost the length of your arm.
You turn to Law. “How big is this place?”
“The living area is two blocks. We’re planning on expanding the farm again soon.” He says. “But that’s not counting the energy and water systems. Altogether it’s around five. Franky built them before the city one went out. We’ve been using them since.”
“He’s amazing.” You say.
The truck pulls to a stop at where you assume is its regular spot. The sound of gravel crunches under the wheels. It takes a second more of idling, the rumble of the engine reverberating through your body, before the truck stops. Like before, you carefully unlatch the trunk, hopping off onto the gravel floor. You look around. There are a few other vehicles parked around the courtyard. There seems to be another layer of walls built out from a house, keeping the parking lot and gate from the rest of the camp. You turn around, getting your stuff out of the trunk.
You help Law slip his bag over his shoulder. Holding out Kikoku, you are pleasantly surprised when he tells you to keep holding her for him. Then, the two of you set off behind Franky and Zoro. They enter the house, past the reinforced front door and the barren insides. You think there are smears of blood on the walls. You don’t want to know. Keeping your head down, you keep walking, staying in line behind Law. Then, you reach the back door.
They push open the exit, and you’re blinded for a moment.
Then you see everything. Plants, trees, flowers and grass. Houses with intact windows and people. Not a lot, but still many enough to remind you of a nice day out in the city. You step out behind Law, amazed by everything you’re seeing. There’s conversation bustling, voices carrying over with the wind. You look around, trying to comprehend everything. The contrast from outside the walls of this place pricks at your nerves, and you shuffle closer to Law, unsure of where you’re even going as you make your way down the street at a brisk pace.
“We’re going to report to the main office first. And we have to let everyone know you’re here too now.” Law says. He’s looking at you with understanding.
You hope it’s not because you look just as frazzled as you feel.
Either way, it’s too weird. The streets are clean, the houses painted colourfully in various vibrant shades. There’s a liveliness here you haven’t felt in a long while, and even though the idea of safety is echoed in each brick, each breath and each step you take, you don’t feel it.
“There’s a rec hall we can use further that way.” Law points towards somewhere in the distance. You nod, because what else can you do?
The four of you walk for another while in silence. The sun is still hot upon your skin, though it is further along the sky. You would usually be thinking of getting back to a safe place now— and today, your first instinct still is. But there is no more need to do that. It does quell your nerves, somewhat, when you finally enter the house that’s been remodeled as the main office. There are a few people there, a man with a penguin on his hat and a kid with a pink hat and blue overalls leaning against the counter, deep in some conversation filled with laughter.
“You’re back!” The kid turns at the sound of the four of you in the doorway, running up to you.
“This is Chopper.” Law supplies. You might’ve never guessed he was a doctor— for he gasps at the sight of Law’s arm.
“Traffy! What happened to your arm?”
“I fractured it from a fall.” Law says. “Can you take a look at it today?”
The request for his medical aid seems to shift something in him. Chopper stands up taller, confidence growing on his face as he answers. “Of course! You can head to the clinic after you’re done here. I’ll go set everything up first!”
Chopper steps away from the counter, sliding a heavy book across the table under his arm. He waves at you, and you wave shyly back. Law has already crossed the three steps to the counter. The guy behind it reaches out, putting his shoulder as the penguin pom pom on his hat bobbles with the action.
“Hey, Cap.” He grins from under the brim of his hat. “Glad to see you alive. I’ll let the others know you’re back.”
“This is Penguin.” Law says. “He’s a good friend of mine. He’ll get you in the registry. It’s just a good way to keep track of everyone here. If you leave the camp, you should let the main office know.”
Law, thankfully, stays with you through the whole process. It wasn’t long, per se, but the thought that you are being kept track of again after all this time was . . . somewhat unsettling. Either way, your name is now filed into one of the manila folders tucked into one of the large cabinets behind the makeshift desk. Sometime after Penguin started talking to you, Franky and Zoro left. Now, it’s only Law and you. You exit the house.
“I’ll show you around.” Law offers. “But we should go see Chopper first.”
At the mention of the boy, you suddenly remember something.
“He called you Traffy right? Is the nickname a thing here?” You tease. “Should I be calling you that too?”
“If you call me that I’m throwing you out personally.”
“Okay. I won’t.” You say.
Despite his joking tone, it doesn’t quell the anxiety that’s been bubbling under your skin. It’s all far too pristine. It’s crazy that these people were just . . . thriving while you and so many others are struggling to even survive. And they seem to value the sanctity of this place over the value of outside lives. You can tell they have the resources to help much more than just themselves— but it doesn’t seem like they even want to try.
Still, you instinctively follow him, staying close even when they swarm Law. They talk over each other enthusiastically. Law merely stands there, a soft smile you’ve learned to recognize growing on his face.
You stand to the side, unsure what to do.
It’s not often you feel out of place. But here, at this compound, with the sun shining over you and safety aplenty inside those barricades, you don’t even know how to feel. You suppose the usual emotions, joy, relief, even anger at these people for the unfairness of it all; but you feel nothing.
All you want is some food, a shower maybe— with their running water— sleep, and, a dastardly thing at the back of your mind: Law.
You watch him talk to his friends, so relieved to see them again after this hell of a week he lived through. He has a life here already. And you have no right to assume he owes you anything. You can make your own life here if they accept you. So the first step to take is to prove you are worthy of living here. You steel yourself, ready to take the first step away—
But then he looks back at you, and your resolve crumbles.
He calls your name.
You step forward.
And he next few hours are a blur.
A shower, a tour, eating with everyone—
Law leads you through winding halls, between buildings, and leaves you with others while he goes off to do something by himself. There are too many people with too many personalities for your poor, isolated mind to keep up with.
Franky, Zoro, those two you met earlier. Zoro still stares at you with distrust.
Nami— orange hair, orange tangerines. She offered you one when you sat down next to her in the dining hall.
A tall woman with black hair named Robin, who showed you the library— yes, there is a library—
Sanji, who made dinner, Brook, who sings, and Jimbe, who’s able to lift the long, wooden tables so easily when there are too many people at one and another is needed.
And Luffy, with his sunshine smile and something terrifying behind his eyes. He scares you the most.
There’s something nauseating about them.
It’s halfway through the night, after you begin falling asleep right where you sit while everyone else is singing and dancing, that you realize why.
They’re too happy here.
~~~~
The taste of fresh fruit lingers upon your lips.
Dinner was many dishes of vegetables, flavoured, seasoned, and platters of fresh cut meat. You wanted to eat all of it, stuff yourself full until you can’t possibly down anything more but Law stopped you. ‘It’s not good to eat so much after months of malnutrition,’ he had said, so you had looked around sadly, and picked a small bowl of fresh strawberries to eat.
They were ripe and sweet. A taste you never thought you’d experience again.
You’re so tired. But you still can’t fall asleep.
The lingering remains of the day catch at the edges of your mind. The camp is safe, but it’s a safety that only comes from not knowing what you don’t know. It’s a utopia of ignorance, and you, with all the horrors you’ve experienced woven deep into your bones, you can’t let go of the way it’s shaped you, knowing the danger that lies just beyond these fresh, pristine walls.
But then again, everyone else is happy. No one is worried. Maybe in the end, it’s you who’s wrong. Maybe it's only you who doesn’t belong here.
You sit up. Despite the endless hurricane of thoughts rushing around your head, one thing stands above the rest.
Law.
You need to see him. To feel him under your fingers and know that he’s alive.
You’re lucky Penguin gave you the room beside Law’s. You don’t think you can stomach bumping into anyone else at the moment. The Strawhats— as friendly as they are— make you uneasy. It’s in the way they smile, living on without a care in the world while the rest of the city is slowly dying, turning into dust under the light of the sun.
You look both ways before shuffling out of your room, arms chilling with the new T-shirt that’s been gifted to you. There’s a little skull on it, very much like the rotting zombies outside. You knock on his door. Softly. Did Law even hear it— if he is awake? You aren’t sure. But you wait there anyways; and the seconds tick on and on in the moonlight-illuminated corridor.
Hm, you think. Seems like he’s not awake after all. You turn, resigned to your sleepless fate, but his door opens.
Law stands there, head free of his hat, the bags under his eyes somehow even more prominent in the moonlight. You think you look the same, haggard, even after this day of supposed relaxation after . . . everything.
Law whispers your name softly. It’s barely there, like a gentle breeze.
You swallow your apprehension, and whisper back. “Can I sleep with you?”
He doesn’t say anything.
He steps aside.
You enter his room. It’s tidy. Completely ordinary. A small desk sits by the entrance and a bed is shoved into the corner, two sides against the wall.
Law closes the door behind you, then moves to stand by his bed, waiting. You carefully step towards it. It feels like you’re intruding, forcing your way into Law’s space. But then Law lifts the blanket, and your worries fall away one by one. He’s here. And he won’t leave you. You slip in under the sheets. Law’s bed is warm, and smells like him. You lay down, then roll twice toward the wall until you feel the hard surface pressing against your back.
He follows, easing himself back onto the bed and scooting close. You can’t see him in the darkness, but you do feel him. He sets his good arm over your shoulders, pulling you in close. His breath is warm. His skin is cold. You snuggle closer, mindful of his now casted arm.
You can’t believe he still wants to touch you, even after knowing you killed someone. You don’t know why you want to keep him close even after he almost left you to die. Luffy and his friends, as much as Law trusts them, scare you. There is a wariness you feel around them. They don’t see you as one of their own. Not yet. Law is, but not you.
You’ve seen what Law thinks of people he does not value. You’ve seen what he does to them in times of crisis.
But right now, with Law’s arm settling over you and your head tucked into his chest, nothing else matters. You’re safe. And Law is safe too.
You close your eyes.
A/N: STRAWHATS CAMEO‼️‼️‼️
This chapter was lowkey so hard to finish (because of this math assignment that's due TOMORROW actually killing me) but it's done! There is a possibility i'll come back and rework it in the future, but for now I'm happy with it!
This was all I had planned for the event. There's a lot that happened, and there's a lot that is going to happen in universe, but that story is for another time. I like ambiguous endings, and the image I had for the end of this story has always been something of a suspicious utopia in the middle of chaos. I also really like the concept of the strawhats being scary as shit in canon, so i played a little with that idea here.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading! There might be more to come, but that is not guaranteed. I am very busy with school and I only write for fun 😔 I have a few OC x Canon stories I've been working on (notable ones include a oneshot Cowboy AU train robbery and a longer Mafia AU mashed with a Hades and Persephone retelling, and a random Kaya centered Vampire AU that has a Law and OC cameo) (the canon character in the former two is Law. I'm just a Law fan what can i say) that I'm thinking about reworking as x Readers and posting here. Let me know if you're interested and I can make a post about them.
some lore for anyone interested: yes, the zombies are going through another mutation! What is that going to bring? only more horror! They're turning into plants with airborne spores!!!
The strawhats are in a really well reinforced compound. In my head, all the named Hearts are there too. They've got their own farm, sources of protein, etc. (TW ahead: cannibalism mention in next paragraph)
I wanted to explore the possibility of cannibalism in this AU as well but this was part of the SFW portion and cannibalism was probably pushing that line a little too far. This entire fic was probably pushing that line LOL
Either way, They're resourceful people with a lot of different skills, and some are lowkey zombie killing machines, that's why they managed to build these things and survive for so long. Zoro also has his swords. The zombie population around the camp is close to zero. If i do add onto this fic in the future, I'll probably write something about an internal threat in the camp :)))
(a threat in a very familiar form of reader)
yeah
You know the song? "My heart will go on" imagine how the monster trio (separately) would react to reader singing that song and they've never heard of the song before so it's completely new to them.
Yesyesyesyesyes—I would LOVE to do this. This is adorable. It’s the Celine Dion one right?? There’s so many I’m thinking of right now lol
Talent |Master-List|
Usopp x Reader, fluff, crack, teasing, Usopp is underrated, we need more of him, brief swearing, SFW, kisses
Summary: You’re are Usopp’s muse.
A/N: This is literally the sweetest idea, thank you so much for requesting. I mixed in some of the other Straw Hats with this, so I hope you don’t mind!
•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•
Inspiration, and ideas.
The hardest things to come across.
In a world of grey, Usopp used to be lost. He’d search in pictures, cook books, even Robin’s boring historical papers to find ideas. He was beyond desperate to clear his art block.
The sniper needed something to clear his mind, he just didn’t know what.
But little did he figure, all the answers to his problems would be you.
The moment you’d joined the crew, he’d look at you from afar and things would magically fix. His ideas would run clear, and he could draw. It was like some cure, some unbelievable discovery—with clouds and magical unicorns—he could think.
Actually think.
He fell in love with you because you colored his world.
The softness in your eyes brought out the colors he’d once thought bland, some he’d thought boring. But no, he could finally draw and create with them.
It was a blessing—no, correction—you were the blessing. Your smile brought light into his world, and he couldn’t help but fawn from afar. He’d watch you, a lot. Even in the simplest of tasks, cleaning, chores—you name it. He couldn’t believe you were real.
Usopp drowned in art, better yet you.
Even now as he sits on the stairs, months into your relationship—sketching you in a journal, he makes art. His thoughts never dry, and they’re always full of life and color, though he kept it secret.
It wasn’t embarrassing—he just . . . didn’t mention it, he didn’t know how to tell you. At-least that’s what he convinced himself.
Or maybe his journal was just full of you, and he didn’t want you to know.
Regardless, he sketched you now as you fished with Luffy and Chopper, casting from the rail while he sketched a soft scene.
The boys had been long forgotten, now replaced with mangly fish while you looked ethereal. He wasn’t jealous, he was just…exploring his creativity. Yeah, that’s it.
Creativity.
“I got something!” You suddenly shouted, standing up. Usopp jumped, almost dropping his pen. “Haha—suckers! I win!” you got behind the rail, reeling in whatever you baited.
“Noo!” Luffy dramatically fell back, and Chopper sulked lowering his head. “No fair, I wanted to get it first.”
“Maybe next time,” you smirked, pulling your rod, but instead—it pulled you forward. You stumbled into the rails, letting out a yelp—and Chopper immediately grabbed you.
“AH! ____, no—Help!! The fish is gonna eat ____! USOPP!!”
Scrambling up, Usopp dropped his journal by the stairs. The pen rolled, and he hassled down like a hero—grabbing your waist.
“I gotcha! Hold on!”
You looked back, sending a smile and thanks, and Usopp about caved. His knees would’ve gone weak, if it weren’t for the fact a fish was about to drag you below.
He snapped out of it, flushing red, “Hey, focus on the fish idiot—not me! I mean I’m flattered—but—focus on the rod!”
“Ew! You guys are gross!” Luffy let out a yuck, grabbing the three of you.
Yeah, he couldn’t believe you were real.
“On three guys!!—“ Chopper turned to his human-form, dragging you both back.
“One!”
“Two!” Usopp held you tighter, leaning on his heels.
“Three!” Luffy shouted, yanking back with all his might.
SNAP
The rod broke. No—shattered.
The fish was lost.
And in slow motion, you were all sent flying back.
A chorus of yells echoed throughout the ship, and like bowling balls, you and Usopp knocked down a few barrels by the stairs.
He shielded you, completely winded by the force of the fall, dazed. Usopp slowly let you go, giving you the freedom to move as he recovered.
Weakly coughing, you leaned up.
“Ow,” you muffled, sitting on his hips. Your arms were placed at either side of his head, and the position wasn’t awkward till you locked eyes.
“I-uh, you okay?” He blurted, blinking idly. His hands balanced your waist, and you hesitated to shift forward.
“Yeah, I’m fine silly—you?” You brushed off, pulling some pieces of wood of his hair.
“Your the one who took the fall, idiot.”
“Oh—I did? Haha, I mean—of course I did, I’m the amazing Usopp, I save my girlfriend whenever she’s uh . . . Gonna get eaten by a fish.” he leaned up, letting out a nervous laugh.
SLAM
“What the hell was the crash?!” Nami snapped, bursting out from inside. She looked down to you—and like a science trick with pepper and salt, she was the dish soap that sent you both scrambling away from eachother.
“Uh—“ Usopp stuttered, bright red, unable to form a response.
“It was my fault,” you said quickly, covering him. You brushed off, standing to your feet. “Me, Luffy and Chopper were fishing, and I caught something—but my rod broke.”
“Wait as in MY rod?!” Franky boomed, appearing beside Nami. “There’s no way! I built those to withstand anything!”
“Well, clearly not.” Zoro scoffed, casually walking over the shattered pile of wood.
“OH MY BABY!!” Franky dramatically dropped to his knees, cradling the remnants of his work. “You will not be forgotten, Wendy.”
“Ugh, he named it?” Nami sighed, leaning into her palm. “Ok—I’m going back inside, you all are ridiculous.”
You sighed, looking over to Luffy and Chopper who were already back to fishing, determined to catch whatever you had.
Then, looking to the spot Usopp just was—he was gone. Surprised, you called his name only to find him prying his journal away from the skeleton.
“Yohoho, true love at its finest,” Brook laughed, and Usopp blushed red walking back to you, grumbling.
“What’s he on about?” you asked, confused as Usopp grabbed your hand, pulling you forward. He was muttering incoherent curses under his breath.
“Usopp?” you laughed, “what’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing!” He blurted, “nothing at all—I just, I just want to go inside.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so!” he was now beet red, pulling you into his workshop. He let out a long breath, letting you go as his shoulders sagged,
Relieved, he looked back to you, before quickly away.
Something was definitely up.
“So . . . What’s goin’ on?” you asked, moving to face him.
“Nothing.”
“You said that already, make a different excuse.” you teased, placing a hand on his jaw—and he about exploded.
Though he didn’t respond.
Looking down, you paused. His sketchbook was held behind him. Out of curiosity, you couldn’t help yourself. So, you reached for it.
“Hey, what are doing—wait!” he yelped, trying to get it back, but it was too late. You took off, and he chased you around the room.
“This isn’t funny, come on! Give it back!”
You let out a laugh, jumping over his chair to avoid him around the table. Back n forth’ he desperately tried to grab it, but you’d already opened to the newest page.
“____!” Usopp groaned, rolling his hands down his face.
“What I just wanna see? You haven’t showed me your art in awhile anyway—“
Usopp braced, leaning his head against the table.
“Oh.”
. . .
“I’ll just go die in a hole now.”
You snorted, closing his journal. “What why? This is so sweet.”
Appalled, his head jerked up. “Wait what?!”
“What do you mean, what? Usopp these are all amazing, better yet they’re me!”
Usopp’s mouth dropped, as in like all the way to the floor before he picked it up. “Y-you think?”
“Of course I do.” you strolled around the table, and he immediately stood.
Yes—as stiff as a board, but stood.
He’d never been so nervous in his life, even if he loved you with all his heart.
“Why’d you hide this from me?” you asked, softly, but realization washed over you. “WAIT—is this why you never showed me any of your other books?!”
“What?! NO—“ a panicked look crossed his face, and for once, he couldn’t come up with a lie.
“I—just—you, uhm—it’s personal!”
“It’s me! Of course it’s personal!”
“No! Not like that I—“
“I wanna see your other journals.” you finished, deadpanning as you turned around.
“NO! I am not mentally prepared for that!” Usopp immediately followed you, but you were faster.
“____! Don’t! I swear!”
“Or what?” you rose a brow, looking over your shoulder, and he froze.
“Or—or, I’ll—“
“You’ll, what?”
Usopp swallowed, and a bead of sweat rolled down his face. “Uhm, I’ll—I’ll . . .”
Pff—what the fuck now idiot! Think!
“I’ll kiss you!”
“You’ll . . . Kiss me?” you titled your head, placing your hands on your hips. “Really? Is that supposed to be a threat?”
Shit—plan B!
“Absolutely,” he feigned, sweating like a bullet. “You’ve uh—“
“You can’t distract me,” you huffed, turning around.
Usopp’s eyes widened and without hesitation, he lunged forward. His hands urgently grabbed your face, pulling you in for a deep—or rather breathless kiss, teeth and all.
A muffled noise escaped from him, and you couldn’t help but melt.
Your lover pulled away, panting softly. Unconsciously, Usopp licked his lips unable to look away from yours. Like a spell, he was momentarily drunk off your touch, and he couldn’t help but feel the need to do it again.
“Hey,” you whispered, questioningly, but not unkindly. You were interupted as he cut you off again, this time tenderly.
Yeah, that journal was long forgotten.
His hands desperately pulled you closer, not trying to distract you, but hold you. After discovering his secret, it was clear it meant a lot more than he led on. His heart was wide open, and he pouring every last drop of it into this.
“I’ll, I’ll show you, I just—I wasn’t ready . . . For you to see that.” he muttered, leaning back, but not far.
“See what?” you murmured, holding his hands. “Usopp you’ve seen every part of me, and I’ve seen every part of you, do you think a few drawings will make me leave?”
“No, it’s not that, I thought—ugh, I don’t know what I thought, it’s not embarrassing—you’re not embarrassing you could never be, I just,” he let out a sigh, resting his forehead against yours.
“You give me inspiration, ____. I can think clearly when I’m with you, and I . . . I was embarrassed, not that I have to rely on you, I just didn’t know how you’d react, or what you’d say.”
Nervously, he let out a breath. “It’s stupid, huh?”
“Not at all, I had no idea,” you whispered, blushing. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.“
“You don’t have to.”
“No I want to, but that’s like—the biggest, I don’t even know how to say it—compliment?”
Usopp paused, blinking.
“It’s probably not the right word, but if it makes sense—I’d draw you you too, if I could. I’d . . . There’d probably be a lot of sketchbooks. You already motivate me as is, so from an artist’s perspective, I get it.”
Usopp cleared his throat, holding back an ear to ear grin. “I—uh, thanks, that’s really sweet of you to say.” he let out a breath, trying not to crack.
“And, thanks for not—I don’t know, not calling me weird?” You held eye contact, quietly, and he let out a little laugh looking away.
“You’re such a dork,” you scoffed, smiling.
“I am not. You’re the one being sappy.”
“Oh really? Says Mr. You’re My Muse!”
Usopp choked on his breath, and a familiar blush creeped up his neck. “I never even said that—!”
“You don’t even have to, it’s drawn—literally, it’s everywhere.”
“Ok—and?? I regret nothing!”
dinner conversation (based on this)
mon ster trio ~ !! kissing their scars.
warnings: a bit suggestive on zoro's.
masterlist and rules || have fun reading!
Monkey D. Luffy
He was lying on the deck.
Arms behind his head,
His shirt hiked up just enough to reveal the x-shaped scar on his chest.
You sat beside him,
Watching the way the sun caught his skin.
Without a word,
You leaned down and placed a soft kiss right on the center of the scar.
Luffy blinked.
“Huh? What was that for?”
You smiled.
“For being strong.”
He stared for a second…
Then grinned that big goofy smile.
“I didn’t even feel it! Do it again!”
You rolled your eyes and kissed it once more.
Just to see him laugh.
“Does it heal faster with kisses?”
he asked,
Clearly considering the science.
You giggled.
“Maybe.”
“Well then—”
He flopped dramatically onto your lap.
“Kiss the rest of me too! Just in case!”
Roronoa Zoro
He had his shirt off after training.
Sweat clinging to his body,
Swords resting by the wall.
You stepped behind him,
Fingers ghosting over the long scar down his chest.
Zoro flinched.
Not from pain,
But from surprise.
“…What are you doing?”
You didn’t answer.
Instead,
You leaned in and kissed the base of the scar.
Your lips lingering softly.
He tensed,
Silent.
Then..
“…That’s not gonna help me train, you know.”
You smirked.
“It’s not for training.”
When you kissed higher along the scar.
He caught your wrist gently.
“You’re gonna make me forget what I was doing.”
His voice was low and rough.
But he wasn't stopping you.
You kissed once more,
Mear his collarbone.
“…Too late,”
He muttered.
Vinsmoke Sanji
He was rolling his sleeves up,
Forearms bare,
Cigarette resting between his lips.
Your eyes fell on the old burn scars near his hands.
The ones he never talked about.
“Sanji?”
“Hm?”
Before he could react,
You brought one of his hands up and pressed a soft kiss to the scar.
Then another.
And another.
He froze.
The cigarette dropped.
“Mon dieu…”
You looked up,
Worried for a second.
“Too much?”
He cupped your face with his free hand,
Eyes a little glassy.
“No one’s ever… done that.”
You kissed the scar again gently.
“You deserve it.”
Sanji didn’t say anything.
He just pulled you in close.
And held you against his chest for a long, quiet moment.
And yes, his hands trembled just a little.
MY BOY! THEY'VE ERASED MY BOY!! they deleted him & decided to zoom in on him making heart eyes at Bonney btw.....
Yes, that is indeed Zoro taking up the entire row. That row is dedicated to him.
Blank Alignment Chart
Sometimes you wonder why Sanji acts tf out every damn time; then you remember he's canonically a french-man 😔
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