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opla!Zoro x reader
Summary: After almost losing you, Zoro is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you alive.
WC: 8.1k
Warnings: blood/gore, violence, no death but we get pretty close, medical inaccuracies probably
The last thing you completely felt was a sword plunging straight through your chest.
The blade was ice cold and nothing had begun to hurt yet. It was just uncomfortable. Like there was something inside you, pushing your chest apart. There was, technically, but there was supposed to be something besides slight discomfort. You could feel the metal moving inside you, but it did not hurt. Maybe the adrenaline was helping.
For a second, you were one with the sword. Your body, pierced on its blade, took one final step backwards, pulling the sword out of your attacker's hands. He looked surprised. As if he expected you to be invincible. Like this wasn't a part of his plan. Like he expected your chest to secretly be made of rubber, like your captain, and the blade would just push your body backwards.
Unfortunately, that strength belonged solely to your captain. You were not indestructible, despite your frequent and overconfident declarations of that being so every time you managed to walk away from a fight with only a couple bruises and bloodstained clothes.
Those declarations were bold faced lies. You knew that you were as mortal as the others. As mortal as the man in front of you, whose blade had gone straight through your chest, who was looking on in disbelief as you waited for something to happen.
He reconciled with himself quickly enough, and grabbed the hilt of the sword once more, shoving the blade in further.
You could hear the screams all around you, but they rang dull and hazy, your ears stuffed with cotton. It was like you were underwater and they were above it, but even when they dove in, the words were still incoherent and dim.
You tried to scream yourself, but your voice choked in your throat. Your mouth hung open instead, in a look of pure shock. You felt like a doll, completely unable of moving on your own, only manipulated by the forces around you, namely the blade that had cut you open.
It started to hurt. At first you felt a burning ache, along where the blade sat. Soon, it spread. You were being torn apart. Cleaved in half. It hurt like all hell.
The man holding the sword showed no more remorse for you, using his foot as leverage to get your body off his weapon, pushing you to the ground.
Once your body was removed from the blade, you began to fall back. You attempted to tuck your head forwards to prevent any hard contact, but you were no longer able to control your movements.
Halfway down, you saw your murderer get tackled to the side by an unyielding force. It passed by so fast, you were unable to even see who had done it, but they began to hit him hard.
You hit the cobbled ground with a flash of white as your head collided against the stones, another ache that lingered as you attempted futilely to get ahold of yourself.
You were cold, your extremities shivering in shock as you lifted your head up hazily to view the gore of your chest, a horrific sight of blood and flesh. The pain radiated through you like a second heartbeat, so oppressive that you found it difficult to breathe. You simply choked on the air.
Finally, a person entered your line of sight. Luffy. He hovered over you, your captain. The way he looked at you reminded you of the day you almost lost Zoro. The pain in his eyes. He looked as inexperienced as ever. You did not want him, or any of them, to go through that experience again. Not with you.
You wanted to say something, apologize for not reacting when he thrust the blade forwards, for essentially letting him run you through, leaving a gaping wound that was drenching everything it could with a thick coating of blood.
Luffy shouted at you, looking desperately around before dropping to his knees next to you. You were still underwater. You couldn't hear anything clearly, and your vision was drifting in and out of focus.
Sanji came forward, on your other side. His coat was already slipping down his arms and with a swift movement, he bundled it up around his hand and pressed it against your wound.
You could tell he was apologizing, the same word, "sorry", etched on his lips as he leaned forward, sending more flashes of pain through your body. It was red hot, burning so bright you tried to writhe away from him, but Luffy's position made it difficult, blocking you from rolling over.
You attempted to scream, but instead, you felt something fill your mouth.
When you coughed the warm liquid up, you realized it was blood. At the very least you weren't choking on it yet, but it was only a matter of time.
Nami made her appearance at your feet, and Usopp followed, sitting in between Sanji and Nami, the same horror you saw from Luffy in his eyes.
You noted immediately that Zoro wasn't hovered over you as well and you worried that a grave fate had already befallen him.
When your lips parted to mouth his name, no sound leaving your bloodied jaw, everyone's heads shot in the same direction, at the approximate location your killer fell.
Nami leaned over and you saw Sanji carefully peek at the coat he was using to hold you together. It was a disgusting sight. The fabric came away completely darkened, soaked through with blood. Too much blood. The coat pressed down again, and now Sanji looked scared.
Zoro came into view, he looked furious, but it melted away immediately when he saw you. His anger was replaced with fear and devastation.
You wanted him to grab you and hold you against his chest, promising that everything would be alright, like he had many times before, but you didn't think that it was possible to be alright. Not this time.
He sat at your head, looking down at you and the sunbeams from behind his head made him look like some kind of angel, despite the flecks of blood splattered across his face and the bruise slowly darkening on his cheek.
For once, he did not shout at Sanji for touching you. He hardly acknowledged Sanji's work. His eyes were fixed on you. If he looked down at your injury, his eyes did not trace up the arms to see who it was staunching the blood and his brow did not furrow at the sight of the crewmate he would easily insult for looking at him the wrong way were this any other situation.
His hands took your face, attempting to reach out to you with his words, but you were unable to hear his request.
You wanted to hold him, and a weak arm raised from your side, hanging lazily in the air before Zoro took it. He squeezed gently, and you attempted to return the gesture, but your hold was weak enough as it was. He felt it anyways.
Sanji was forced to push harder on the injury and you recoiled once again, doing anything you could to escape the pain. This time, Zoro did notice Sanji and snapped out of his fear.
"Careful." He practically snarled at Sanji. You heard him faintly, surfacing for a second before dipping under again. The pain did not lessen, and you knew Sanji had to hold it as tight as he did because otherwise you'd be absolutely drained of blood.
You heard muffled talk above your head, but you only barely managed to grasp what they were trying to say. They were talking about finding a doctor, getting you somewhere safe.
You were exhausted, and you wanted nothing more than to close your eyes and drift into sleep, but you knew if you did fall unconscious, you might never wake up.
Your body became weightless as Zoro lifted you from the ground, new pain mixed with the old, and you felt awful. The coat pressed harder against you, if possible, but you didn't react. You were too weak. You felt like you were being squished when a hand pressed against the exit wound on your back.
Zoro began to walk, his pace hurried with your body resting in his arms, life seeping out as quickly as your blood.
Despite your limp position, you noted that your arm was not hanging down as Zoro ran. He had taken care when lifting you up to grip your wrist in his hand, a finger pressed against your wrist, directly over your pulse point, though by now it was more likely you would be feeling his pulse instead of him feeling yours.
You looked up and met eyes with Zoro. "Stay with me." He ordered as you surfaced again. You did your best, but you were fading fast. "Stay with me!" He shouted, picking up his pace. He was practically begging, and your heart broke.
Your head fell back, unable to hold itself up anymore, your breaths shallowing. Your eyes threatened to shut, but you tried your hardest to keep them open.
You felt yourself moving faster. Zoro's underwater voice begged once more. "Please." Whatever he was asking you to do, you could not hear. You drew whatever strength that remained and focused on his voice. "We're gonna find a doctor. They're gonna fix you."
Your eyes drifted shut for a long second before opening again. You didn't think you were going to make it. You felt unfixable.
You wanted to say goodbye to Zoro and thank him for everything he had done for you. You wanted to tell him how much you loved him, but your voice had disappeared long ago. Or perhaps only a minute or two. Time was drastically changed in your state.
The bright light of the sun disappeared as you were brought inside a building. You were no longer able to keep your eyes open as your body was laid down. You heard desperation from the muffled voices, but even those drifted away.
The last thing you heard was Zoro's deep voice, practically silent, but you recognized it nonetheless. There was some more ambiguous sounds, and a faint touch on your hand, and you were out.
None of the crew was allowed inside for the process, which left them standing outside the building, waiting.
Zoro stood still, only one step away from the door. If it opened he was likely to get hit in the face. He was covered in blood. Your blood. He felt sick.
He had never seen you like that before. So frail, broken. Weak. It hurt him to no end. You were strong. You were powerful and you never backed down. You stood tall before your enemies and treated them all equally, that is to say with unyielding force, and a barrage of attacks so powerful they had even put Zoro on his ass once.
Seeing you like that, your face ashen, your body nearly limp as you struggled to draw your breaths, it terrified him. You were a human, as fragile as any other, but Zoro had never seen you like that. Echoes of the way your body trembled while he carried you buzzed through his arms. An awful sensation.
"Zoro?" He turned around to look at whoever had called. He faced the crew, all sharing looks of worry, the same fears running through their heads.
"They're gonna help. Everything will be alright." Nami said, for the group's benefit as well as her own. "The doctors will help." Zoro said nothing.
Hours passed, each second agonizingly long. No updates, no confirmations, just a painful, unending wait. The only comfort the crew found was knowing that you were not dead yet. They would have been told already.
It was around midnight when the strangers came. There were three of them, each wearing dark cloaks. Black in the moonlight, but it would be reasonable to think that they might be blue in the daylight.
They walked without stopping to acknowledge the frightened crew, pushing past Zoro and walking straight into the building, closing the door behind them.
Zoro heard a couple guesses as to what the strange people were doing there, but all he could understand was that they were going in to help you. In that regard, he did not care if they had not looked at him, despite his looming presence at the door. He just needed you to be safe. He needed them to save you.
Time passed slower than ever, and Zoro was growing irritable. When Sanji left to get them some food, he refused his portion, saying it could be sacrificed to the captain. It was, but the group could tell that he was terrified for you.
Finally, after one last hour, the strangers left, the one at the front clutching a jar, with an indiscernible item floating inside. Payment for their strange services, the crew guessed.
They were followed out by the doctor, who was thanking them profusely before turning to the awaiting crew.
"Your friend is stable." The doctor said, tone warning. The crew hardly cared.
"They're alive?" Luffy asked. "Yes." There were relieved sighs all around. "But, there's a problem." The tension returned.
"We needed to use an old form of magic to save them. It keeps them alive, but only for a little while. When the magic runs out, your friend will die."
Zoro's fist clenched. "You couldn't save them?" He asked, accusatory. "We tried, but the wound cut too close to the vital organs. Without proper surgeons, our only shot was to mend as much as we could, and use the magic. We use it here to allow for peaceful goodbyes."
Zoro hated everything the doctor said, about not being able to heal you entirely, about this waning magic and the thought of having to say goodbye. It was disgusting.
"Goodbyes?" Usopp asked weakly. "Like, goodbye, forever?" The doctor nodded, a false solemnity. "Your friend is strong. I've had people slip through my fingers with far lighter injuries. I suppose they wanted to come back to you."
"Are they awake?" Zoro asked, voice flat, but bubbling with restrained emotions.
"Asleep right now, but they will awake in the morning. Until then you can find an inn to sleep in, and visit in the morning."
The doctor began to close the doors, but Zoro grabbed the door, holding it firmly. "I'm not leaving." Zoro said. "I want to stay with them." "We don't allow visitors at night." The doctor explained, a deep frown directed at Zoro's hand on the door. "It might disturb the other patient's rest." "Are there any other patients with them?" Zoro demanded. "Well no, but we still have rules." "Damn your rules. I need to be with them."
The doctor took an indignant breath, but let it out weakly. "If you touch nothing, you may stay. But only one of you. The rest will have to come back in the morning."
Zoro stepped forward, opening the door himself. No one dared challenge him. He was going to be at your side. He had to be.
"I'll see you in the morning," He turned to the crew, trying to control the shaking in his voice. A few scattered goodnights were spoken and with that, the crew left.
Zoro was led inside. The building smelled of pure alcohol, with an undercurrent of blood. It stung as he walked down the hall, led into the room where you were being kept.
You were alone in the room. On a bed, not accompanied by any fancy machinery or dressed excessively in bandages. He supposed your wound would be dressed under the paper thin gown you had been given. You lay still, your face calm. If Zoro had not seen the rhythmic, steady rise and fall of your chest, he would have sworn that you were already dead.
He approached you carefully, hand reaching out to hold yours. Your skin was cold against his. Still, he held on. With a careful touch, he pressed his thumb against your pulse point, feeling the gentle thrum beneath your skin, a sign of life. You were alive.
It wasn't right however. Not a heartbeat. The steady thumping of a pulse was replaced with a consistent feeling of movement. The magic, he realised. That was what was keeping you alive. Not your heart. Not anymore.
Still a sign of life, he breathed a sigh of relief, trying to keep himself composed, even though he wanted to collapse at the knowledge that you were at the very least alive. It meant he had time to save you. "It's going to be alright." He promised your sleeping form. "You are going to survive."
He sat on the floor, leaning back against your bed, head cushioned by your mattress. A hand stayed protectively around the hilt of his swords, at the ready, in the highly unlikely event that someone came to finish you off.
The other hand reached up to feel your pulse point again. It felt strange to feel the thrumming of magic under your skin instead of your blood. It was only a slight consolation that it was still responsible for your life.
Despite his best efforts to stay awake, Zoro slipped into a dreamless sleep at your bedside, soothed by the fact that for the time being, you were still alive.
The rest was needed, for he did not wake up until one of the nurses arrived in the morning, opening the door to your room, spurring Zoro into action. He did not pull out his swords, but the nurse looked terrified nonetheless. He probably looked a mess, having slept on the floor, your blood soaked into his clothes, still looking fresh from a fight.
After quickly checking on you, still asleep, the nurse nodded and left quickly, making significant efforts to not look Zoro in the eyes.
"Zoro?" Your weak voice caught his attention. He spun around to face you, seeing your eyes, fixed on him.
He moved to you, grateful to see you awake. You moved carefully, trying to ease yourself into a sitting position.
"Does it hurt?" Zoro asked, looking like he wanted to help, but unsure of how to offer it.
"I can't feel anything." You answered numbly, hand reaching up to your chest, where a check from the nurse had revealed your bandaged midsection.
You were not lying to comfort Zoro. In place of the agonising pain from before, there was nothingness. Like your insides had been scooped out, leaving you hollow.
Zoro explained as best he could what the doctors had done to you. You listened, all the while staring at your chest, feeling the hollowness.
"How much time do I have?" You asked, and Zoro cursed himself for not asking that question earlier. "I don't know."
"You have the next two days." The doctor said sternly, appearing from the door. "To say your goodbyes, pay your dues. It will be painless."
You said nothing, just looking blankly at the doctor. Faced so suddenly with your death twice in a very short timespan was a painful experience. You had thought you were safe.
Zoro watched you nervously. You looked scared. Obviously you despised the thought of dying, but he was still so unused to it.
He watched as your hand inched over to his. He reached up and took it without question. You squeezed his hand firmly, trying to keep your cool.
"Can we have a minute?" Zoro asked, tone sturdy, authoritative. "Alone?"
The doctor frowned, but said nothing, leaving as requested.
As soon as the door closed, Zoro turned to you, completely focused on you. Tears burned at his eyes. He was going to lose you.
"They couldn't save me?" You asked, looking straight ahead, still processing everything. "No. It was the only option. But I'm going to find something else. I promise. You're going to be alright."
You leaned forward, falling onto him, hugging him as tight as you could.
"I thought I was never going to do this again." You mumbled into his shoulder, tears welling in your eyes. "I wouldn't even get to say goodbye." Zoro's arms wrapped around you in a protective hold, avoiding where the sword had exited your body. He too, felt the tears stinging his eyes. He had thought much of the same. "I was so scared." You admitted quietly. "It hurt so much and I couldn't keep my eyes open, it was awful."
You curled up, body moving closer to Zoro, who just held you tighter, clinging to you. "You're safe." He promised. "You're safe now."
He could feel your shaky breaths through his shirt. The spot on his shoulder where your eyes were pressed was suddenly damp. Zoro tried rubbing your back, but cautiously avoided the area of injury, giving him limited space to work with.
There was a knock on the door and you jolted up. Zoro expected you to wince, but the movement did nothing to affect you. You simply answered it with a call.
"Come in."
The door burst open, and your crewmates spilled in, rushing to you. The floodgates burst open. There was tears and confessions, everyone spilling truths that needed to be told to you for fear of you never getting to know otherwise.
Finally the doctor came in again, to deliver the news properly, this time with your found family there to hear it as well.
You got the recap, about the magic in you, how it would fade, giving you a peaceful send-off, with enough time to say your goodbyes. You nodded at the explanation, lips set in a firm line. You were still dying, but at least it was painless.
The crew decided to say their goodbyes individually, allowing them one last moment with you before the end.
The realisation set in slowly but surely. That you truly were experiencing the end, that death was coming for you, and your ticket to the afterlife, if there was one, had been paid with the magic in your chest, thrumming in place of your heart, keeping your blood moving as your body uselessly tried to replenish what had been lost.
The one-on-one conversations were moving, and you found yourself growing serious. This was your end. You had accepted it. They needed to as well.
You began to feel it fading. The strength you had felt earlier in the day was gone now, and it was more comfortable to sit still than to move around. You were getting weaker. You were still dying. It was frustrating, even if you had come to terms with it.
Most of your friends had gone already. Zoro was last. Before he came in, around lunchtime, the doctor paid you a visit to make sure everything was alright.
"How are you?" The doctor asked. "Fine. It doesn't hurt. I'm just tired." You admitted quietly. "You held on to your life well. We were all impressed. For a second, we almost thought you would make a recovery." The doctor said, checking your bandages for blood. "Oh?"
"Unfortunately it was impossible." The doctor covered quickly. "Without a surgeon, we could never be able to mend it properly. But, you've been stabilized. It's the best we could do."
The doctor finished the checkup and left, allowing Zoro to enter.
He looked tired. You saw the redness of his eyes. He had cried. You wondered if he split off in order to let it out or if he did it in front of the others. He had changed into fresh clothes, no longer covered in the horrific reminders of your attack.
"Hey Zoro." Your voice sounded so weak and you wanted to punch something to cope with your body threatening to shut down around you.
At the very least, you could speak. Throughout the day your voice had faded, going from your strong, regular tone to a scratchy whisper. It was tiring to speak too loud. You wanted to save Zoro the pain of seeing you like this, but he had already seen you while you knocked on death's door the first time. At least this time you were clean and able to see and hear him properly. You didn't want him to see you like this, but he didn't care. He needed to say goodbye.
He stood next to your bed. The sheets were pure white, a stark contrast to the blood that had been shed on the operating table. The bandages around your chest were pristine too, as if you were attempting a fashion statement instead of hiding your mortal wound.
In his mind's eye, Zoro could still picture you, limp in his arms. The visions flashed as he looked at you in the bed, barely moving, voice faded.
He had replayed the entire ordeal a thousand times over during his wait, from the last minutes of the fight, to him finding his place at your bed, protecting you from an unlikely attack.
He remembered every gory detail. The way you felt in his arms, the colour of the blood stained into the fabric of his shirt and Sanji's coat, the very make of the blade that had pierced you, every bruise he had pummeled into your murderer's face.
Your hand reached out, and he took it. This time, you inspected it, a finger brushing along his knuckles, which were rough and irritated. "Zoro." Your tone detailed the rest of the rant you wanted to go on. About how he needed to channel the anger somewhere else when he got angry. To not just rush at whatever he could and fight it.
He shook his head, defending himself. "I did this to the asshole who-" his voice caught and he cleared his throat, grumbling at the floor.
After taking down the man he had been a furious whirlwind, pummeling his fists into the man's face until he had been unrecognizable, only pulled away from his violence by the sight of you, eyes glazed over, trying desperately to stay alive.
You squeezed his hand, only slightly stronger than it had been less than a day before. He squeezed back with the same force.
You could feel the emotions in the room. It was stifling. Zoro refused to sit in the chair set up for your visitors, and by the looks of it, he would refuse if you asked him to.
You sat in silence, looking over his body, registering every inch of his skin you could see, making sure he was okay. You noted a cut on his bicep. It had scabbed over, but looked rough. At the very least, it could have used a bandage. The bruise on his cheek was darker now, but not serious. Still, an ice pack or some cold vegetables should have been used to soothe it.
"It's fine." Zoro refused to let you say anything about the situation, knowing your analytical way of scanning him for injuries.
"I've had worse." His voice wavered.
You felt the world still. His voice had never wavered before. Everything he said was strong and assured. Even in the most brutally honest discussions you had had with him, tears on both of your faces, he had not broken. He had hesitated, he had choked and been cut off. He had spoken words quickly in times of stress and his tone occasionally made him sound careless, but it shattered you to hear him crack.
You needed to hold him, so you pulled him down. You tugged on his arm and he followed your guide as you looped your arms around his neck. You could feel his unsteady breathing as his arms wrapped around you, his face buried in your shoulder.
You sat in silence, his ragged breathing in your ear as he tried to resist the emotions he was trying so hard to hide.
You leaned back, and he followed your lead, joining you on the bed, lifting you up so that you could lay on him, between his legs, just like you did on the ship. You rolled over once he got behind you, so that you were chest to chest, head nestled next to his, the rising and falling of his chest still evidently restrained.
You realized that he was warm and briefly wondered how cold you felt to him. His arms wrapped completely around you, warming you up. You realized a little too late that you were shaking. He held you protectively. Like a shield. He wanted, more than anything, to protect you, but he had not been able to. He had let you get hurt. He had stood by and done nothing until it was too late.
Having already failed you in his mind, he simply held you tight against him, begging whatever powers that may be- the powers that he did not believe in- to give him more time. To give him all the time in the world. To give him a miracle, anything to prevent him from dealing with this devastating reality.
"What do I do?" He unintentionally asked out loud. He found himself unable to look down at you, furious at his involvement, or lack thereof, with your current position, so close to death. He wanted to cry, but refused to let that happen. He needed to stay strong for you. He needed to protect you. He was not going to let you get hurt again.
"Zoro?" You said it just to catch his attention. The overuse of his name had been apparent, but necessary. "It wasn't your fault. It's okay. You can let it out."
The dam broke. The words were simple, but it was what he needed to hear. He shook with heavy sobs, but stayed quiet. There was no bawling or shouting, or anything you would expect. It was just quiet. His shaky breaths were all you could hear against the silence of the room around you, like he had trained himself to be as silent as possible when he cried.
"It's okay." You spoke the words again.
"It's not." His voice shook again. "I should have stopped him." "Don't blame yourself, it won't help you." "I could have stopped him."
"It was my fight." The firmness in your words silenced his protests. "I may have lost it, but it was my fight to lose. I wouldn't have stepped in between your fight with Mihawk." He opened his mouth but you stared him down.
"Promise me that when I'm gone you won't blame yourself. I don't blame you. I lost the fight. There was nothing any of you could have done." He nodded. A weak gesture.
"Promise me." You ordered.
"I promise." He said with a heavy sigh, followed by a shaky inhale. You breathed out and laid your head against his chest. "Good. It wasn't on you."
He was reaching the end of his cry, his breaths beginning to settle. "Please stay with me." You requested, comfortable in his arms. "Until the time comes."
"Of course."
He pulled the thin blanket up to keep you warm, still in his arms, lulled into a sense of peace for your last hours, however many you had left.
You thought back to the good times. Walking along sandy beaches and through lamplit towns at night, where the only thing that mattered was the person holding your hand. You thought back to napping with him, on deck, sitting next to him, your head on his shoulder, or in the hammock, swinging back and forth with the rocking of the boat, feeling safe in his arms.
You remembered talking. Talking about your interests while he lazily listened, comforted by the sound of your voice as you explained what you did and why you did it.
In a strange twist of events, you stayed quiet, while Zoro spoke up.
His monologue was about you, how much he loved you, the way you had impacted his life, memories he had of you, anything he could think of, so long as it pertained to you.
His speech was stilted and certainly not well thought out. His sentences dropped off at odd places or fizzled out when he could not think of anything more to say. His voice stayed as level as he could make it, the occasional tremor running through. It was far from an impassioned declaration of love, but that was not what he could provide for you. That was not what you needed. You needed him. And that included his awkward words, still unused to being this intimate with anyone.
He finished his tangent by pressing his face against your head. "I'm gonna miss you." He said into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.
His admission left a sinking feeling in your stomach. Had he really accepted that you were dying?
You shifted so that your eyes looked up to the bottom of his jaw. "You have no idea how much I love you." He murmured, and for a second you thought he had fallen asleep on your head, but he was just still, wishing this moment could last forever.
"I believe in love because of you." You felt another kiss to the top of your head. "What am I going to do when you're gone?"
You sat up a bit, so you could look him in the eye. "You are going to become the best swordsman in the world. Obviously. With or without me you are going to follow your dreams."
He took your face in his hands, carefully, like you were made of a fragile glass. It felt that way. He held you so gently he was scared you would break. "What do I do to make you stay?"
The question was strong. It wasn't a soft thought he spoke out loud just to say something, the musings of a grieving man. There was purpose behind it. He wanted an answer.
You shook your head instead, tears brimming in your eyes. "You can't. There's nothing."
His brow furrowed and you realized how serious he was. He would swim around the world if it would somehow cure you. He would do whatever you said even if it only gave you a few more days with him. You did not want him chasing a lost cause.
"Even if something could be done, it's too late." You leaned forward again, falling against him.
"Don't say that. You aren't dead yet. There has to be something." He insisted, sitting up straight, trying to keep you comfortable while he did so. "Zoro, stop it. There's nothing."
His eyes scanned your body as if there was a machine that could calculate a solution for him. His analysis turned up nothing. "I'll talk to the doctor."
You watched, half-formed protests dying in your throat as you spoke, as Zoro manoeuvred himself out of the bed, laying you down carefully, and deciding what to do next.
He walked towards the door and you said the only thing you could. "Roronoa Zoro." His full name made him stop. This could be the last time he heard you say it.
"Don't give up. I can help you. Let me help you." You shook your head. "This is the last resort." You touch your bandaged chest, where the magic keeping you alive slowly faded away.
"I survived." He pointed at his own scar, a dramatic line ripped across his chest. You wanted to agree, but you went through something different than he did. "The blade went straight through me. He barely missed my heart. I bled out." "You can heal." The desperation in his eyes shattered your heart. "They have a doctor here. Not a surgeon. They can't fix this. They can only sew it up and keep me alive as long as they can."
Zoro's head shot up. "You need a surgeon." His eyes practically ignited with hope. "Zoro." "I'll get you to a surgeon."
He leaned down, arms slipping behind your shoulders and under your knees, lifting you off the bed. "Zoro, put me down." You argued, doing nothing to get out of his grasp.
He hesitated for a second, your body laying the same way it had when you were dying less than a day ago. "You can't spend your last moments in here, waiting for it to end." He said sternly.
"Zoro." "One last trip." He insisted. "What's the worst that could happen?"
He knew that he had caught you in a corner, determination covering his features. "What if it doesn't work?" You asked, preparing him for the likely occurence. "Then I'll know I did everything I could to help you." He promised.
You said nothing in return, letting him help you up, and when your legs were too weak to help you walk, he swept you up, carrying you to the door, opening it to face your crew. At first, there was an oppressive silence, as if they had expected you to be dead.
"We're going to find a surgeon." Zoro insisted. There was no need for argument, the crew was more than ready to accommodate this detour.
There was a hurried walk to the ship, prepared to set sail as soon as possible, headed to a nearby island that boasted a city, surely there would be a surgeon there.
In the meantime, Zoro stayed with you. You were laid in a bed, offered many comforts, but it was evident that you were getting weaker. He sat next to you, one of your hands clasped in his for comfort.
You started the trip sitting up in bed, able to keep up with conversation, but soon there was a change. You were getting tired, and laid down.
Zoro stayed with you through it all, as the boat sped along the waves. As your eyes drifted closed, he urged you to stay awake.
You took one long blink and suddenly you moved, shifting under the blankets, lethargic movements that betrayed how little time you had left.
Zoro watched as you leaned up slightly against your pillow. "Zoro, if this doesn't work, I want to be buried at sea." Your voice was weak, but Zoro hung on to every word.
He wanted to interrupt and tell you that it was going to work, but he said nothing. He waited for you to finish. "Sail somewhere uncharted and leave my body to the sea. That way I'll always be with you. In the waters."
He looked up at you, the hand not holding yours went up to caress your face. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Kiss my lips, idiot. " You mumbled. A smile brushed the edge of his mouth. He obliged you, and despite your tiredness, you looped your arms around his torso, tugging him in with what little strength you still had.
"Promise to bury me at sea?" You asked. "I promise." His voice was rough, tainted with emotion. "But it is going to work."
You smiled. "Of course it will."
Luffy came in to update you on the progress of your journey. Almost halfway there, by Nami's calculations.
You still did not expect to be alive by the time they docked, but that was a concern you would not voice.
As you were left alone again, you fought to stay awake. A losing battle. Zoro urged you to stay conscious, but it was getting harder and harder to do, fighting the urge to fall asleep, knowing it would be a rest you would never wake up from. He held your hand in his, his fingers carefully positioned over your pulse point, feeling the thrumming slow under his touch.
"Stay awake. You can do it."
You did your best, minutes feeling like hours as you struggled to stay awake.
When the boat docked, Zoro was already picking you up, running to find you the surgeon. He was not going to lose you. Not if he could help it.
The hospital was in sight when your eyes finally drifted closed, unable to hold them open for much longer.
"Stay awake." Zoro pleaded, shoving through the front doors.
"I need a surgeon!" He shouted, your weak body held against his chest, a haunting reminder of the day before.
When your body was pried from his arms a second time, an overwhelming emptiness filled him once more.
He spent every second questioning the staff of the hospital about your condition. Every answer was the same. Nobody knew what was going on.
Time passed as slowly as it could, and Zoro was restless. Any attempts to soothe him were ignored.
The only update he got was the doctors coming out, asking the strangest question he had ever been asked.
"Where did the heart go?"
Zoro was confused. Your heart was still in your body, it's processes aided significantly by the magic, but it was still there. It should have been.
"What?" He asked, confusion and anger bubbling in his chest. "The patient's heart is missing. It's been removed. Do you have the specimen?"
Zoro's world lurched as he put pieces together. The doctor looking upset at his insistence of being with you. The lack of a distinct heartbeat. The jar carried by the strangers. The way you confessed to feeling like you were hollow instead of in pain.
Those doctors had removed your heart. That was why you were "beyond saving". Because they had stolen one of your most vital organs.
It made no sense. Why would they do that? The fury raged on as Zoro's brain tried to think of any other explanation for what had happened. Your heart was missing from your chest cavity. Your heart.
His anger bubbled, swearing a lengthy and bloody revenge against whoever had removed your heart and all responsible for it.
Another doctor rushed towards the one interrogating Zoro, and with a jumble of words like compatibility, donor, and transplantation, they came to some sort of decision.
They left quickly, promising Zoro that they were going to try something risky, before rushing off with determination, leaving Zoro fuming and confused.
He stopped his harrassment of the staff briefly, finding the crew sitting nervously in a waiting room. Upon seeing him, they jumped up, but the look on his face startled them.
"What's wrong?" Nami dared to ask.
"Their heart was stolen." Zoro said, his words a long line of barely controlled anger, his body tense, ready to explode.
"Those fucking doctors took their heart out. It's gone."
Confusion spread across the crew, trying to understand what Zoro was saying. Surely he was joking. Your heart was not removed from your chest. There was no way.
There was no need to discuss the actions that would be taken wether or not you survived the procedure.
They were going back to that first island and Zoro was going to unleash absolute hell upon the doctors who had lied to him about trying to save your life.
Until then, the anxiety doubled, as more hours were spent hovering outside sterile doors, waiting for news that would either bring some semblance of normalcy to the world or tear it in half.
Finally, after a wait that spanned far too long, the doctors came out, looking shocked.
"Your friend survived the transplant. They're going to be okay." One of the doctors informed the crew. The excitement was palpable.
There was a cascade of cheers as the news was released, grinning faces and happy hearts. You were alive again.
Zor insisted upon waiting at your bedside, a looming, protective figure that barely softened his posture, even when your crew came in to see you.
He stayed by your side, day and night, asking the nurses about when you would wake up.
They said they didn't know. Only that you would.
Eventually.
Zoro spent his time with you by talking, remembering how you had helped bring him back from the brink of death.
Zoro clammed up the second somebody entered the room, but when it was empty he began to talk about anything and everything. Things he saw out your window, thoughts on the weather, complaints about whatever was on his mind. Anything and everything.
He made multiple apologies. For not helping you fight, for not finding this solution quicker, for not giving you a chance to end that bastard's life yourself, for letting those doctors steal your heart and replace it with a finite amount of magic. For everything.
His hand held yours, his fingers gently pressing your pulse point. He could feel the steady thrum of your new heart, weak as it was. It was still there. So were you.
One night, after having fallen asleep, slumped over in a metal hospital chair, his hand let go, and upon awaking, he scrambled to find your pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when he found it.
The torture stayed with him for three days, three whole days of waiting for you to come back, to fight against the odds and to prove how strong you truly were.
It was around lunchtime when you drew in a sharp breath, awakening to a stabbing pain in your lungs. Your eyelids fluttered, and a long, thin breath brought you back as you drowsily came to.
Zoro's heartrate doubled, a beacon of hope lit in his chest that burned brighter than the sun had ever been.
He felt your fingers twitch in his grasp, and your new heartbeat accelerated under his steady hold.
Your face pinched, contorted with pain, but Zoro was still just barely holding back tears. You were truly alive.
He spoke your name, a soft tone being taken on, one that had not been present during his ramblings to your unconscious body.
"Zoro?" Your voice was raspy, but there was nothing for him that could ruin the moment. "I'm here." He said carefully, hand moving to hold yours, squeezing it gently.
You squeezed back instinctively, laughing. "This probably isn't the afterlife then." You coughed and a wince ran through your body, followed by a sharp noise of pain. "Definitely not heaven."
"I'll get a doctor." Zoro said quickly, raising from his seat, rushing to proudly declare that you had bested the odds, and defeated death itself, not once, but twice.
"Zoro?" He hesitated, turning to look at you as you opened your eyes, blinking until he could come somewhat into focus. "Thank you."
Zoro had been accused of being an impulsive man, but he was sure of every thought that passed through his head before he rushed back to your side and kissed you.
His hands carefully caressed your face, the very hands that had bashed your killer's face into the ground and carried your limp body, the lips that had screamed at enemies and pleaded with so many nurses to tell him good news pressed against yours, losing himself in the familiarity of it. He had missed you so desperately.
You were still weak, but he could feel you reciprocating his action. "I love you." He repeated over and over again, eyes glazing over with tears. "I love you, I love you." Like a mantra.
When he slowed down, he saw your eyes drift behind him, where a surprised nurse was blushing at the scene in front of her.
"I'll get the doctors." She mumbled before scampering away, a giggle on her lips.
You were given a hefty painkiller, by doctors who still seemed unable to process that you had survived, but all the more happy for it.
The crew was permitted to see you, and whatever residing pain fighting your medicine was forgotten as Luffy's arms wrapped around you, stretched out long and encasing your body like spaghetti wrapped around a fork. He squeezed you tight as the rest of the group rushed in, drowning in relief and tears.
There was a group hug, which kept you warm and drowned out the fears you had and the weaknesses you felt.
They stayed with you, scattered around your ward, keeping you company, filling you in on the days you missed.
You sat up on your bed, cross legged, Zoro sitting behind you, holding you close against him as the crew talked around you. A game of cards had begun, and the sounds of uproaring laughter filled your ears and warmed your new beating heart.
You noticed the way Zoro held you. His arms were wrapped around you, your one arm crossed over yourself to hold his hand, the other hand taking care of the money you had won from the card game.
Zoro's fingers interlocked with yours, but his thumb strayed towards your wrist. It lay right across your pulse point, blood flowing through your body in rhythmic thumps, your heart doing its job enthusiastically.
His thumb pressed gently on the spot, feeling your pulse, as he did every second he spent at your side. He kept it there, making sure that you were still present. You are. You always will be.
gif by @apparently-artless
F!Reader x Trafalgar Law
SFW
Law didn’t find joy around loud noises, uncontrollable chaos, and, over all, people. Like a snow leopard, he preferred to hide in the shadows. Planning, observing, thinking…wanting to make sure that what he envisioned came true.
However, that changed when he and the crew were docked at a village during the winter season—snow was unavoidable and the temperatures were significantly colder than what they were used to.
“Captain, are you really sure you wanna go out there?” Penguin asked, looking out at the white landscape.
Law nodded as he slipped on a coat and zipped it up. “I’ll be gone just for a couple hours. Let Bepo be outside as much as he wants. He deserves it.”
With that said, he stepped outside and felt the frigid wind slice through the air like knives. The town was quiet, muffled by the snow, and the villagers paid him no mind. His history as a former warlord and title as the Surgeon of Death made him untouchable. The fact that he was also involved in Big Mom’s fall added to his list of accomplishments and reasons why he shouldn’t be crossed.
But there was someone willing to cross the line.
You.
At the village, Law had a goal. He was looking for you, his contact, someone who promised him information regarding Blackbeard, his next target for elimination.
As he passed by a library, he didn’t hesitate to enter. In your letters you described a quiet meeting place. And a library fit the description perfectly.
Quiet corners make better conversation.
Inside, Law shook off the snow and walked down the quiet aisles, eyes wandering from their books to him. He didn’t know what you looked like, which was a minor complication. But the situation was still controllable. If he played his cards right. If you two found common ground, it would be smooth—any hesitation from you he’d bend to his favor.
“Hey, stranger,” your voice cooed, smooth and amused. Law turned and looked at you, who naturally expressed an aura of confidence with a dash of elegance, a dangerous combination. Your dark gold eyes had an intense stare, posture straight, and you stayed in place.
You weren’t afraid of him. You had no reason to.
“Didn’t expect Mihawk’s daughter to be lounging around here.”
You lifted an eyebrow as you set a book in your hands back on the shelf. “What gives you that idea, Dr. Trafalgar?” His name sounded smooth as silk from your lips, your tone containing a hint of coyness that you knew would test his patience.
“Instinct.”
“Ah, like a cat hunting its prey.” You smiled, turning to look at him fully. “I’m more of a hawk like my father and observe from above.”
“Then we’ll get along well.” Law replied. You leaned against the bookshelf and crossed your arms over your chest, your fingers naturally touching the matching cross necklace you wore like your father.
“We’ll see about that.” You started, “and, even though Mihawk is my father, I am my own person. Don’t expect me to be like him.”
“Noted.”
Now there you were: two predators, ones from land and sky planning a high stakes mission, not knowing that this partnership unfolded a growing tension none of you planned for.
@onepiece-bingo
Animal Instinct
doctor!law who always maintains his stoic professionalism with every patient—except when it comes to you. He insists it’s “just routine” that he visits you so frequently, ensuring your health is progressing as it should.
Morning rounds start with him pulling up a chair beside your bed, his amber eyes scanning your chart with precision. But even as his hands work with practiced ease, the way his thumb lingers on the edge of the clipboard suggests something more. His voice is low but gentle, asking how you slept, what you ate, and how you’re feeling, as though he’s committing every detail to memory.
At night, long after visiting hours have ended, his familiar silhouette appears in the doorway of your hospital room. He claims he’s just finishing his notes or double-checking the evening staff’s updates. Yet, somehow, he always ends up seated beside you, shoulders relaxing as you talk about your day. You notice the faint smirk tugging at his lips when you tease him about working too hard.
The truth is, Law tells himself he’s just being thorough. That it’s his job to ensure his patients feel cared for. But deep down, he knows no one else has ever drawn him in quite like you—no other voice has ever made him want to stay so desperately beyond his hours.
doctor!law who doesn’t do sentiment. At least, that’s what he claims, his sharp gaze and sharper tongue scaring off most patients from ever trying to get too familiar. But when it comes to you, it’s different—not that he’d ever admit it.
“You’ve been sitting around too much,” he says one afternoon, his voice cutting through the soft hum of your hospital room. “Come on.”
Before you can protest, he’s helping you to your feet with that infuriating air of calm authority. You don’t miss the way his hand lingers a moment longer than necessary, steadying you like he’s worried you might topple over.
“I didn’t ask for a walk,” you mutter as he leads you down the hall.
He doesn’t even look at you, his pace deliberate but not rushed. “And I didn’t ask for a stubborn patient, but here we are.”
The courtyard is quiet, bathed in golden afternoon light. Law doesn’t bother making small talk as you stroll—he’s never been one for unnecessary chatter. But his sharp eyes track every step you take, scanning you for even the slightest sign of discomfort.
“Stop pushing yourself,” he orders when you quicken your pace, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“You’re such a control freak,” you tease, trying to coax a reaction out of him.
His lips twitch, the faintest hint of amusement breaking through his usual scowl. “Someone has to keep you in line.”
Despite his gruff demeanor, there’s a strange comfort in his presence. He doesn’t fill the silence with platitudes or false cheer—he just is, his calm steadiness grounding you in a way nothing else can.
When the walk ends, and he’s escorting you back to your room, he slows, his voice softer now. “If you feel worse later, tell me. Don’t wait until morning rounds.”
“Do you always go this far for your patients?” you ask, half-joking.
He gives you a sidelong glance, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “No,” he says simply. “I don’t.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you wondering if you imagined the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he walked away.
doctor!law who doesn’t entertain nonsense. That’s the image he maintains in the hospital’s halls and the workers’ lounge. The moment someone brings up the whispers about him and his favorite patient, he scoffs, eyes narrowing as if the very idea irritates him.
“Ridiculous,” he mutters, flipping a page in the medical journal he’s not really reading.
But when no one’s looking, his ears strain to catch the next part of the conversation.
“Did you see how he was walking with them in the courtyard yesterday? They looked so comfortable together,” one nurse says, voice filled with barely contained glee.
Another one chimes in, “Right? And the way he always stays late in their room? If that’s not a crush, I don’t know what is.”
Law’s fingers tighten around the edges of his book, his lips pressing into a thin line. Anyone watching would think he’s annoyed—but the faint flush creeping up his neck tells a different story.
“I’m sure they’re just being professional,” someone offers cautiously, only for another nurse to laugh. “Oh, please. That man has never gone out of his way for anyone like he does for them. He practically lives in their room.”
Law clears his throat loudly, snapping the room’s attention back to him. “If you have time to gossip, you have time to work,” he says, his tone sharp enough to cut through the air.
The nurses scatter, muttering apologies, and he goes back to pretending to read. But later, when he’s alone, he catches himself smirking faintly, replaying the words in his head.
He tells himself it’s absurd, that people are just reading too much into things. Yet, when he sees you later that evening and you joke about the “rumors,” he doesn’t deny them outright.
Instead, he leans against the doorframe of your room, arms crossed, a teasing glint in his amber eyes. “Apparently, I’m the topic of the day in the lounge. Care to explain why everyone thinks I’m obsessed with you?”
You raise a brow, smirking. “Maybe because you kind of are?”
He scoffs, though the tips of his ears turn red. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. If I’m here, it’s because you’re clearly a magnet for trouble. Someone has to keep you in check.”
But when he catches a glimpse of your smile and hears your laughter, he thinks, Maybe they’re not entirely wrong.
OHHHH I GOT AN AMAZING IDEA WHAT IF READER DOESN'T GIVE ONE PIECE MEN A KISS BACK AFTER THEY KISSED READER?
gn!reader
characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, law and ace
words count: around 0.9k - 1.9k each
masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi
The crew is scattered around the ship, busy with their usual antics, but you’re sitting on the deck with Luffy, legs dangling over the edge.
He’s in an especially good mood today,not that it’s unusual, but there’s a certain spark in his grin, an extra bounce in his movements. You don’t think much of it. It’s Luffy, after all.
And then, suddenly, he kisses you.
It’s quick, impulsive, but undeniably a kiss.
Your entire body goes stiff and your mind goes blank.
Luffy pulls back just as easily as he leaned in, smiling like he just did the most natural thing in the world.
“Heh, that was nice” he says, tilting his head “Right?”
But you don’t move. You don’t say anything. You just sit there, eyes wide, heart hammering against your ribs.
Luffy’s smile falters. His head tilts the other way now, brows slightly furrowed “Huh? You didn’t kiss me back.”
You see the confusion in his face, hear it in his voice. He isn’t upset, Luffy doesn’t get upset about things like this, but he’s puzzled.
“Did I do it wrong?”
His voice is quieter now.
Panic surges through you “Wha—no! No, you didn’t—” You shake your head quickly, your thoughts scrambling together “I just… I wasn’t expecting it!”
Luffy blinks at you “Why not?”
You open your mouth, but no words come out. What are you supposed to say? Because you’re my captain? Because you never act romantic? Because I didn’t think you even thought about kissing people?
Luffy watches you, waiting for an answer. His usual carefree energy is still there, but for once, you see something else in his eyes. A flicker of uncertainty.
“Oh.” He leans back, rubbing his nose “So you didn’t want me to?”
Your heart drops.
“No!” You nearly shout, grabbing his wrist before he can pull away completely “That’s not it!”
Luffy blinks at you again, mouth slightly open like he’s waiting for an explanation.
You inhale sharply. Screw it.
You lean forward and kiss him.
This time, you make sure he feels it.
Luffy freezes for half a second, probably because he wasn’t expecting it, but then, just as quickly, he melts into it. His lips are warm, a little chapped from the salty sea air, but soft against yours. His hands hover for a moment before he grabs your shoulders, steadying himself as he grins into the kiss.
When you finally pull back, breath a little uneven, he laughs.
“Ohhh, so you do wanna kiss me!”
Your face burns “I—Shut up!”
Luffy just grins wider, pulling you into his chest like he didn’t just shake your entire world “You’re funny, Y/N,” he says, resting his chin on your head. “I’m gonna kiss you all the time now!”
You groan into his shirt. What have you gotten yourself into?
You’re still pressed against Luffy’s chest, your face burning as he laughs. The warmth of his body seeps into you, and his chin rests comfortably on top of your head, like he’s perfectly content to stay like this forever.
“I’m gonna kiss you all the time now, I’m gonna kiss you all the time now, I’m gonna kiss you all the time now, I’m gonna kiss you all the ti—” he says, his voice filled with the same carefree confidence he uses when talking about becoming Pirate King.
You groan into his shirt, trying to push away, but his arms tighten around you.
“Luffy!”
“What?” He tilts his head, grinning “You kissed me back, so that means you like it, right?”
You open your mouth to argue but nothing comes out. Because… he’s right. You did kiss him back. You wanted to. You just hadn’t expected him to be so Luffy about it.
“That’s not the point” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.
He laughs again, a happy, carefree sound “Then what’s the point?”
You pull back just enough to look at him, and immediately regret it. He’s staring at you with those big, curious eyes, his face close enough that you can still feel the warmth of his breath. He isn’t teasing you, not really... he’s just genuinely waiting for an answer, like he doesn’t understand why you’re so flustered.
And that makes it worse.
You shove your hands against his chest, trying to put some distance between you “You can’t just—just say stuff like that!”
“Why not?” Luffy pouts.
“Because it’s embarrassing!”
He laughs harder “But you’re cute when you’re embarrassed!”
You swear your soul leaves your body “LUFFY—”
He suddenly leans in again, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before you can stop him.
“Mmm, yeah, I like this,” he says, nodding to himself “I’m definitely gonna do it a lot.”
Your brain malfunctions.
“You—! I—!” You can’t even form a sentence.
Luffy just beams “You can kiss me too, y’know.”
Your face somehow gets even hotter “I KNOW!”
His grin widens, and then before you can react he jumps to his feet, stretching his arms.
“Alright! I’m hungry!” He looks down at you, still sitting there, completely overwhelmed “C’mon, let’s go get something to eat!”
He grabs your hand before you can protest and starts dragging you toward the kitchen, like nothing just happened.
Like he didn’t just turn your world upside down.
Like he didn’t just kiss you twice, steal your breath, and then immediately think about food.
You let him pull you along, still dazed, as your fingers stay laced with his.
Luffy is impossible, but that’s why you like him so much.
The sound of swords clashing echoes throughout the quiet ship as the crew enjoys their evening. You sit on the railing, your legs dangling, watching the stars as the ship cruises along. Zoro is nearby, practicing his swordplay as usual, his focus unwavering.
You’ve been in a strange mood today, frustrated, angry, even a little annoyed, but you didn’t want to take it out on Zoro. You just needed some time to think, and he had given you that. But when you saw him practicing so intensely, your irritation began to simmer.
It had been an argument earlier. Not a huge one, but one that still left a bad taste in your mouth. Zoro had made a careless comment about something that had happened during the last fight, something trivial, but it had stuck with you, and now, as you watch him swing his swords with that unshakable intensity, you can’t help but feel more upset.
Zoro finishes his set, wiping the sweat from his brow. His eyes catch yours, and without saying anything, he walks over to you. You remain where you are, not bothering to look at him. The quiet tension between the two of you feels thicker now, and you can almost hear the unspoken words hanging in the air.
“What’s wrong?” Zoro asks, his voice unusually soft, as he stops a few steps in front of you. He might not always say much, but Zoro knows when something is off with you.
You sigh, leaning back slightly on the railing, crossing your arms “Nothing.”
You know Zoro won’t take that for an answer, but you don’t feel like talking about it. You don’t want to have another one of those half-formed conversations that end up with him brushing it off or getting frustrated with you. He’s not one for deep talks, and you don’t want to drag him into it.
Zoro, being Zoro, doesn’t give up. He steps closer, standing directly in front of you, his tall frame looming over you. He doesn’t push, but the intensity in his gaze is hard to ignore.
“Y/N,” he says, a hint of concern sneaking into his usually blunt tone “You’ve been weird all day.”
You feel your anger stir again, that feeling of being dismissed or misunderstood growing. Without thinking, you snap at him “I’m fine, alright? Just… don’t worry about it.”
The words are harsher than you intended, and you immediately regret them. But you’ve already said it, and the frustration that’s been building up inside you has no outlet other than Zoro at the moment.
Zoro blinks, clearly taken aback by your sudden sharpness. There’s a brief pause, and for a moment, you think he’ll retreat, that he’ll walk away like he usually does when he doesn’t understand. But instead, he leans in closer, his face now inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.
“You know I don’t like it when you’re upset, right?” His voice is low, almost a growl.
You feel your heart skip a beat, and the irritation that had flared up earlier starts to subside just a little. But your pride is still holding on, and you don’t want to let it go so easily “I’m not upset” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, and you turn your head away, hoping he’ll just leave it alone.
Zoro doesn’t move, though. He’s still right in front of you, and his eyes are fixed on you with that intense gaze of his, like he’s seeing through you, reading everything you’re trying to hide.
And then, without warning, Zoro leans in and kisses you.
His lips are firm, yet gentle, pressing softly against yours. You don’t kiss him back immediately. Instead, you sit there, frozen, eyes wide in shock. Your heart races, and for a second, you’re not sure how to react.
Zoro pulls back just slightly, his gaze still locked with yours, waiting. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a faint trace of something in his gaze, concern, maybe? He wants an answer. He wants to know what’s wrong.
You should have kissed him back, but you didn’t. The confusion, the frustration, it all bubbles up again, and you’re not sure why you’re holding back this time.
Zoro doesn’t say anything at first, but he waits. His hand gently brushes against your cheek, as if trying to coax a response out of you “Why didn’t you kiss me back?”
You try to speak, but no words come out at first. You don’t want to tell him the truth, that you’re angry, that you don’t know how to explain what’s really bothering you.
You finally exhale, your voice softer than before “I was mad. At you.”
Zoro blinks in surprise, and for a moment, you think he’ll get defensive, like he always does when he doesn’t understand something. But instead, he simply nods. His eyes soften, and his fingers gently trace your jawline as if to remind you that he’s not going anywhere.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says quietly. His voice is surprisingly gentle, his usual gruffness gone “But if something’s wrong, you know you can tell me.”
You sigh, your anger finally dissipating as you look up at him. You can see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he’s trying to meet you halfway. You can feel the weight of your pride slipping away, and you hate that you let it build up this far.
You close the gap between you, leaning in to kiss him, this time responding wholeheartedly. It’s slow at first, but it deepens as you feel the tension release from your shoulders. You kiss him like you’ve missed him, like you didn’t realize just how badly you needed this connection.
When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his, breathing heavily “I’m sorry,” you whisper “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”
Zoro chuckles softly, his hand cupping your face “Don’t apologize. I get it.”
You smile, and for the first time today, the weight that had been dragging on you fades away completely.
Zoro’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer “But next time, you’ll kiss me back, right?”
You laugh softly, feeling the heat of his chest against yours “I promise.”
And this time, when he kisses you again, you kiss him back without hesitation.
You pull back slightly from the kiss, your breath still heavy, and the silence between you both feels different now, softer, more understanding. Zoro doesn’t speak at first, but his arms remain tightly around you, his fingers brushing gently through your hair, as if he’s making sure you’re still there, still with him.
For a moment, you both just stand there in the quiet night, the ship gently rocking beneath your feet. The stars above are bright, casting a peaceful glow over the deck. It’s in these moments that you realize how much Zoro means to you. Even when you’re angry, even when you push him away, he never truly goes anywhere. He might not say a lot, but his actions speak louder than anything else.
“You know, you’re a real pain sometimes” you murmur, leaning into him, your voice barely above a whisper.
Zoro chuckles softly, his lips brushing against the top of your head “You’re the one who doesn’t kiss me back.” His voice is teasing now, and the warmth of his hands against your back makes you feel safe, despite everything.
You smile, finally allowing yourself to fully relax in his embrace “I know. I’m sorry about that. I just…” You hesitate, unsure of how to express yourself “I didn’t want to drag you into my mood. It wasn’t about you.”
Zoro doesn’t respond immediately, but his hand moves to gently lift your chin, so that you’re looking up at him. His green eyes are soft, understanding. He looks at you the way he always does when he knows there’s more you’re not saying, like he’s giving you the space to figure it out yourself, but also offering his support.
“You don’t have to protect me from your mood, Y/N,” Zoro says quietly, his thumb gently grazing your cheek “You know that, right?”
You blink up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his words. It’s rare for him to be this open, to say something so vulnerable. Zoro’s never been one for words, always more about actions. But when he does speak, it’s clear he means it.
“I know,” you murmur, feeling your heart swell in your chest “I guess I just didn’t want to make it worse.”
Zoro shakes his head, his hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you even closer “You can’t make it worse, Y/N. I’ve been with you long enough to know that.”
His words settle over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, the world feels lighter. Maybe it’s because you’re finally opening up to him, maybe it’s because you realize that, despite all your pride, Zoro has always been the one who sees right through you.
The air between you two seems to change, the tension now replaced by an unspoken understanding. Zoro leans down again, capturing your lips in a much slower, more deliberate kiss this time. It’s deep and meaningful, not rushed like before, and you kiss him back just as intensely. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just the feeling of his lips against yours, and the reassuring presence of his hands wrapped around you.
When you finally pull away, you smile softly up at him, feeling like everything that had been weighing on your shoulders is finally gone.
“Better?” he asks, his voice a little gruff, but with a glint of amusement in his eyes.
You nod, leaning your forehead against his “Much better. Thanks, Zoro.”
He smirks, giving you a gentle, teasing squeeze “I don’t need thanks. Just kiss me back and we’ll be fine.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes, but you can’t help the warmth that spreads through you at the thought of him being this open with you. Zoro might not always know the right words to say, but the way he takes care of you, without question, speaks more than anything he could say aloud.
“Deal.” You smile, finally feeling at ease, as you stand there together in the quiet night, just the two of you, with the stars as your only witnesses.
Zoro leans in to kiss you again, but this time, he pulls back just before your lips meet.
“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” he teases with that familiar mischievous smirk.
You roll your eyes playfully but don’t hold back when you respond this time. You kiss him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Does that answer your question?” you whisper, as you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, the moonlight catching the green in them.
Zoro’s grin widens, and you know, without a doubt, that everything is going to be alright. Even in the moments of silence, when words are hard to come by, you know you can always count on him.
The kitchen feels quieter now, the only sound being the gentle crackle of the stove and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables. You stand at the counter, your hands busy with the meal, but your mind is far from the task at hand. You feel a weight on your chest that you can’t quite shake off... guilt.
Sanji had left the kitchen earlier, giving you the space you had asked for, but the sadness in his eyes lingers in your thoughts. You didn’t mean to hurt him, but you’re not sure how to fix this.
You’ve always loved how Sanji dotes on you, how tender he is despite his usual flirtatious attitude, and yet, today, something in you snapped. The moment he had kissed you and you hadn’t kissed him back, the look on his face was more than you could handle. You could still feel the sting of his disappointment. It’s one thing to have an argument, to be upset about something that happened, but the thought that you could break his heart over something so small, something so trivial, makes you feel worse than ever.
Your knife clinks against the counter, the task you’re supposed to be focusing on now forgotten, your gaze drifting to the door.
Just as you’re about to give in and seek him out, you hear the faint sound of footsteps. You don’t need to look to know who it is. You can feel Sanji’s presence always manages to fill a room.
“Y/N?” His voice is soft, hesitant, and you can hear the uncertainty beneath it. You turn to face him, and there he is, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His usual confident, charming smile is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he looks… small. Vulnerable, even. It hurts more than you thought it would.
You can’t meet his eyes at first, your gaze flicking to the counter instead, your hands nervously adjusting the utensils “Sanji… I—” Your throat tightens, the apology catching in your voice.
He doesn’t move, not yet, waiting for you to gather your words. The silence stretches on, heavier than you want it to be, but eventually, Sanji steps forward. The faint sound of his shoes tapping against the wooden floor rings through your ears as he approaches. He doesn’t say anything at first, and for a moment, you think maybe he’ll just walk away again, leaving you both in that uncomfortable space.
But instead, he reaches out, gently cupping your face in his hands, and guides your eyes to meet his. His gaze is soft, but there’s something behind it, something that makes your heart ache.
“I hate seeing you like this,” he says quietly, his voice nearly a whisper “I don’t care if you’re angry or upset, but when you push me away like that, it makes me feel like I did something wrong.”
The words hit you harder than you expected. Your heart lurches in your chest as you realize just how deeply you’ve hurt him with your silence.
“Sanji…” you start, but your voice falters. What can you say to fix it? How do you explain that it wasn’t him, it was you? That you didn’t know how to communicate what was bothering you?
He pulls you into a tight embrace, his head resting against yours. You can feel the warmth of his chest against you, his breath soft and steady. You let yourself relax into him, for once letting go of the pride you’ve been holding onto so tightly. You know you’ve hurt him, and you can feel the guilt eating away at you.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he murmurs, his hands soothingly running through your hair “I know you’re not always in the mood for affection, but I… I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what.”
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, and finally allow yourself to melt into his touch “I’m sorry, Sanji,” you whisper, your voice filled with regret “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s not you, I was just… frustrated. But I should’ve never shut you out like that.”
His fingers stop moving through your hair, and you can feel his breath hitch as he pulls back slightly to look at you. For a moment, he just stares, and the warmth in his eyes makes your heart race. Then, without warning, his lips are on yours.
It’s a soft kiss at first, barely a brush of his lips against yours, as if he’s still unsure if you’re ready. But you don’t hesitate this time. You meet him halfway, kissing him back deeply, letting all the words you couldn’t say earlier pour into the kiss. You press closer to him, your hands finding their way around his neck, pulling him even closer as if you never want to let him go.
When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, and there’s a quiet moment between you, the tension from earlier melting away.
“Are we good?” Sanji asks, his voice playful again, but there’s a hint of vulnerability behind it.
You smile, finally feeling the weight lift from your shoulders “Yeah, we’re good.” You reach up, running a hand through his messy blond hair, before pulling him into another kiss, this time, more tender, slower, filled with the understanding that had been missing before.
“I really don’t like it when you push me away” he mutters against your lips, his hands resting on your waist.
You laugh softly, your heart light “I’ll try not to, okay? No more pushing you away.” You pull him even closer, your arms winding around him “I promise.”
He grins, that familiar, charming grin, as he wraps his arms around you “You better, sweetheart. Because I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
You lean against him, feeling his warmth envelop you, and for the first time today, you feel like everything is right again. You’re not alone in your frustration anymore, and you can lean on him when things feel too heavy. With Sanji, you know you’ll always have someone who understands, someone who’s ready to support you, even when you don’t ask for it.
As you sit there in his embrace, you let your worries melt away, knowing that, for once, you don’t have to fight this battle on your own.
The Polar Tang is unusually quiet tonight. Most of the crew has turned in, the hum of the submarine filling the empty corridors. You sit on the deck, legs dangling over the side, watching the ocean stretch endlessly under the moonlight. The battle earlier had been rough, leaving you sore and exhausted, but the peaceful waves help settle your nerves.
A presence settles beside you, and you don’t need to look to know who it is.
“Can’t sleep either?” you ask, glancing at Law.
He’s watching the water, arms resting on his knees “You took a nasty hit today. Should be resting.”
You roll your eyes “I’m fine, doctor.”
He exhales sharply, but there’s no real annoyance in it. Instead, a silence lingers between you, different from your usual comfortable quiet. There’s something restrained in the way Law sits, the way his fingers tighten into fists before relaxing again.
Then, before you can process what’s happening, he shifts toward you, one hand reaching for your cheek as his lips press firmly against yours.
Your breath catches. Your mind blanks.
Law is kissing you.
The realization slams into you so hard that you freeze completely. He’s warm, his touch surprisingly careful despite the rough way he carries himself in battle. But you don’t move... you don’t kiss him back. Not because you don’t want to, but because you weren’t expecting this. At all.
A second passes. Then another.
Law pulls away first. His golden eyes flicker with something unreadable before he looks away, jaw tightening. He stands abruptly.
“Forget it,” he mutters “That was a mistake.”
“Wait—” you reach for him, but he’s already stepping back, his expression closing off into something distant and unreadable. The wall he puts up is so familiar it makes your chest ache.
You finally find your voice “Law, I—”
“Get some rest,” he interrupts, his tone sharp “That’s an order.”
And then he’s gone, disappearing into the submarine without another word.
You sit there, stunned, heart pounding.
You wanted to kiss him back. You wanted this.
But now, you might have just ruined everything.
In facts, after that Law starts avoiding you.
Not just the usual, brooding, keep-to-himself kind of avoiding you. No, this is different. This is intentional.
And it’s driving you insane.
Ever since that kiss, the kiss you wanted but had been too frozen to return, he’s been more distant than ever. He won’t meet your eyes, won’t acknowledge your presence unless absolutely necessary, and worst of all, you don’t understand if it him who refuses to be alone with you or just the crew having the worst timing.
Every time you try to talk to him, someone interrupts.
Attempt #1: You corner him in the medical bay, only for Shachi to barge in, whining about some nonexistent injury. Law doesn’t even look at you as he orders you both out.
Attempt #2: You catch him in the hallway, ready to finally get this over with, but Penguin suddenly appears, asking something about the ship’s course. Law walks away before you can say a word.
Attempt #3: The mess hall. Surely, he can’t avoid you here. You sit beside him, he gets up immediately.
At this point, the crew notices.
“Did you piss off the captain or something?” Bepo asks, tilting his head.
You groan, slamming your head against the table “I don’t know! He won’t talk to me.”
“You must’ve done something,” Shachi teases “What, did you steal his seat or—”
Penguin smacks his arm “No, idiot. Captain’s never been like this before. Not even when we wrecked his lab.”
Bepo frowns “Something’s bothering him.”
Yeah, no kidding... it’s all your fault.
You catch glimpses of Law throughout the day, on the deck, in the control room, talking with the crew. But the moment he sees you? He leaves.
It’s killing you.
He thinks you regret it.
He thinks you didn’t want it.
And if you don’t fix this soon, he’s never going to let you get close again.
The frustration boils over during dinner.
You’re exhausted, running on fumes after chasing Law all day. The crew is loud, laughing over some dumb joke, but all you can focus on is him.
Sitting across from you. Silent. Eating his food without looking up.
You can’t take it anymore.
You slam your hands on the table, making everyone jump.
“LAW.”
Silence.
All eyes turn to you.
Your captain finally looks at you, startled.
“First you kiss me.” You point an accusing finger at him “And then you avoid me like the plague, without even give me the chance to explain myself!”
Shachi chokes on his drink.
Penguin’s mouth drops open.
Bepo’s ears twitch in alarm.
Law stiffens. His fork stops midair “This is not—”
“No, shut up,” you cut him off, standing so fast your chair nearly topples over “I need to say this before you run away again.”
The crew is watching.
You don’t care.
“You kissed me, and I—” Your voice cracks. Your face feels like it’s on fire “I didn’t kiss you back, but not because I didn’t want to! I was just—shocked! I like you, okay?! I wanted to kiss you back, but my brain just—short-circuited!”
Dead. Silence.
Shachi drops his spoon.
Bepo covers his mouth with his paws.
Penguin is slowly turning to look at Law, whose ears are red.
Your captain looks like he’s about to die.
You inhale sharply “So if you’re avoiding me because you think I hate you or something—stop.”
Law does not move.
The entire crew waits.
Then, he clears his throat, stands up, and grabs your wrist.
“Room.”
And just like that, you vanish from the mess hall and land in his office with a thud.
Law lets go of you immediately and rubs his face, exhaling sharply “You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re the one who’s been acting like I have the plague,” you fire back, crossing your arms “Do you know how hard it’s been to get you alone?”
He groans “I thought you...” He pauses. Runs a hand through his hair “I thought you regretted it.”
You blink.
“…You idiot.”
He glares “Excuse me—”
You grab his coat and yank him down into a kiss.
Law freezes. This time, he’s the one caught off guard.
But when you pull away, his golden eyes are wide, breath slightly uneven.
You smirk “That clear enough for you?”
A beat of silence.
Then he grabs you by the waist and kisses you again.
And this time, you kiss him back.
The Moby Dick feels warmer than usual tonight, the air carrying that familiar salty breeze that ruffles your hair. You’re sitting on the figurehead, just like you always do after a long day. The crew has mostly turned in, and Ace, as always, is lounging nearby, throwing out his usual teasing comments that always manage to make you roll your eyes.
Tonight, though? He’s extra insufferable.
“Don’t you think I look particularly good tonight?” Ace smirks, his head tilted back, his hair catching the moonlight.
You narrow your eyes “Yeah, Ace, you look like a sunburned tomato.”
He bursts out laughing, clearly enjoying the attention “Ha! You know you want me.”
“Oh, really?” You scoff, not missing a beat “You couldn’t pay me to want you.”
He shrugs, still grinning like a maniac “Sure, but that’s just your deflection because you’re intimidated by my obvious charm.”
Your eyebrow twitches “I’m pretty sure you’re confusing arrogance with charm, Ace.”
“Of course I’m charming. Just ask me—”
Before he can finish, you interrupt him “Yeah, well, don’t ask me. I’m not interested.”
But as he keeps running his mouth, you realize something. Ace is having way too much fun with this. He’s been teasing you non-stop for days about how “obviously into him” you are, and it’s driving you nuts. He knows you like him. He knows you’ve been trying to keep your cool, but his teasing is getting out of hand.
“Would you stop talking about how irresistible you are? I’m literally going to—”
Before you can finish your sentence, Ace leans in and kisses you.
It happens so fast you don’t even process it at first.
One second, you and Ace are bickering, his usual cocky teasing, your usual mock exasperation... and then bam. Lips. On yours.
Portgas D. Ace is kissing you.
It’s not even a gentle, romantic kiss. It’s an overconfident, smug, I-know-you-want-me kind of kiss. The kind of kiss that assumes you’re going to melt immediately.
But instead of kissing him back, your brain short-circuits, and you freeze.
Ace pulls away, already grinning “Heh. Bet you weren’t expecting that, huh?”
You blink again.
Ace smirks, looking so insufferably proud of himself “Damn, I really am irresistible.”
And something inside you just snaps.
You tilt your head, look him straight in the eyes, and say “…Meh.”
Ace stares.
The entire universe pauses.
“…Meh?” Ace echoes, as if he misheard you.
You shrug “Yeah. Meh.”
Ace blinks rapidly, like his brain is buffering “Wait. Hold on. No, no, no, you don’t get it. I just kissed you.”
“I know.”
“And you—” He gestures wildly at you “Didn’t do anything??”
“Guess not.”
Ace’s jaw drops. He looks personally offended.
“Hold on,” he says, pointing a very accusatory finger at you “Let me get this straight. You... just sat there and let me kiss you like I was some kind of—some kind of—unremarkable man?”
You nod “Pretty much.”
Ace clutches his chest like he’s just been stabbed “Oh my GOD.”
The crew, who had been watching very intently, erupts into chaos.
“YO WHAT?”
“DID Y/N JUST—”
“THEY ‘MEH’-ED HIM???”
“THERE’S NO COMING BACK FROM THAT, MAN.”
Ace spins dramatically away from you, gripping the side of the ship like he’s having an existential crisis.
Marco slaps a hand over his mouth, cackling “Damn, Ace, I ain’t never seen you take an L like that.”
Thatch is wheezing “You got ‘meh’-ed, dude. That’s worse than rejection.”
“I KNOW.” Ace yells, throwing his arms in the air. He turns back to you, looking utterly betrayed “How could you do this to me?”
You shrug again “Guess I’m just not that impressed.”
Ace gasps. Actually gasps. Like you just kicked him in the soul.
“This is the worst day of my life” he declares. Then he marches off.
You watch him go, amused “Where are you even going?”
“I DUNNO, SOMEWHERE I’M APPRECIATED.”
From that moment on, Ace enters what can only be described as a petty, over-the-top crisis. Because in his mind, this is unheard of.
He is Portgas D. Ace. He’s a walking inferno, second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, effortlessly cool and charming. He has never, in his entire life, had someone just shrug off his kiss.
And he does not know how to handle it.
Thus begins The Avoidance Arc.
Ace is avoiding you because he’s lowkey heartbroken and incredibly dramatic about it.
He doesn’t even try to be subtle. He goes out of his way to avoid being anywhere near you.
Like, you’ll step onto the deck and Ace immediately turns 180 degrees and starts walking in the opposite direction.
You say one word to him, and he immediately yells, “OH WOW, LOOK AT THE TIME, GOTTA GO.”
You catch him in the hallway? He jumps overboard.
Marco watches all of this unfold with deep amusement “Wow. You really broke him.”
You roll your eyes “I didn’t break him. He’s being dramatic.”
“He’s been in the crow’s nest for six hours.”
“…Okay, maybe a little.”
Eventually, you get tired of this nonsense.
So, while the crew is gathered on the deck, you decide enough is enough.
You climb onto the railing of the ship and shout, loudly enough for Ace to hear from wherever he’s sulking—
“HEY EVERYONE! I THINK PORTGAS D. ACE IS A COWARD!”
There is instant silence.
Everyone slowly turns to look at you.
Then—BOOM. A door slams open somewhere, and Ace comes flying onto the deck like an angry storm “WHO SAID THAT.”
You smirk “Oh, hey, Ace. Nice of you to join us.”
He points at you, eyes narrowed “You wanna say that again?”
“I said,” you repeat, loud and clear, “you’re a coward.”
The crew is hyped.
“Ohhhhhhh shiiiiiit.”
“Y/N called you out, bro.”
“Ace, you gonna let that slide??”
Ace crosses his arms “I am not a coward.”
“Oh, really?” You tilt your head “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
Ace falters “That’s—that’s not—”
You step closer “Admit it. You’re mad because I didn’t kiss you back.”
The crew is on the edge of their seats.
Ace shifts uncomfortably “I’m not mad. I’m just… extremely, deeply wounded.”
You burst out laughing “Oh my god, you’re actually sulking.”
“I AM NOT SULKING.”
Marco sighs, shaking his head “Ace, just admit it. You wanted y/n to be all over you, and when they wasn’t, you got all weird about it.”
Ace groans, covering his face “Fine, yes, okay?! It bruised my damn ego! Happy?”
You grin “Very.”
Ace mutters something about how “this is the worst day of his life” and the crew howls with laughter.
Then, before he can complain further you grab his collar and kiss him, right then and there.
The crew loses their minds.
Ace freezes. Then, slowly, his brain catches up, and when you pull away, he just stares.
“…Oh.”
You smirk “Yeah. Oh.”
Then Ace grins, all cocky confidence again “So, uh. I win, right?”
You punch him in the arm.
I’m kinda annoyed with Oda tbh. Ever since Haki had been explained/introduced he has yet to give Haki to other strawhats. I hope he plans to do because it makes more sense than other members not having it. Like Nami, Robin and Usopp, I mean observation and armament Haki is perfect for all three of them, idk why Oda has gone this long without giving them Haki.
Ace x Reader, fluff, crack, sfw, minor swearing
Summary: School stresses you out, and Ace is there to motivate you!
A/N: Yeesh . . . college isn’t easy, and it definitely isn’t everyone’s thing. I hope this fic reaches those who need it, and you’re motivated! Best wishes to the person who requested this, and best wishes to those who have an upcoming test/exam/quiz!
•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•
Working in your room, unbothered, your journal lies in-front of you.
The clock reads: 2:25pm, by your side, and you know you’ve already wasted half the day. You’d been procrastinating since this morning, changing up tasks, and different schedules—to avoid this very moment.
But, you couldn’t ignore it forever, so here you were now. Begrudgingly studying.
SLAM
“____!” Ace swung your door open, peeking in.
You flinched, throwing your pencil up as you shouted. “Oi! Don’t scare me like that!”
“Oh, there you are!” he piped, smiling as he came in, completely disregarding your startle. He through his arms around your shoulder, holding you as he looked to what you were working on.
His head rested above yours, and a look of disgust crossed his face. “Ew. What is that?”
“What’s what?” You sighed, sinking into your chair.
“What do you mean what—oh my god,” he gasped, “Are you working on math?”
“Yes?”
“Ew.” he deadpanned, scrunching his nose.
“It’s not ew, go away if you’re just gonna be annoying.” you grumbled, pulling your journal to hide it as he inched closer.
“Ace—“
Curiously, Ace reached to grab the journal, flipping through the messied pages. He raised a brow, seeing organized definitions . . . to the very un-organized ones.
The hot-head read it as if he could, nodding in understatement before he set it down. He leaned against your chair, flipping to a certain page.
“What’s this mean?” he asked, pointing to a scribbled equation with a poorly drawn ‘fuck this!’ with arrow beside it.
Along with a few other curses and symbols.
You cleared your throat, averting your gaze.
“Look, I’m trying here, don’t judge.” you crossed your arms, averting your gaze.
“I’m not judging,” he shrugged, flipping to a page—where you’d actually gotten an answer.
“Hey, you got this one.” he smiled, patting your shoulder, encouragingly rubbing it to your neck.
“Yeah, and I barely understood it.” you grumbled.
“But you still got it.”
“Barely.”
“But . . . you still got it.” he repeated.
You scoffed, looking away.
Yeah, it was true, you’d got it.
But you didn’t understand it. You’d didn’t get all the material. Maybe in sections, but once you put everything together and you were under-pressure? You’d flunk it. You’d mess it up again.
And in a few weeks, there’d be expectations and things you were ready for, expected to understand, but couldn’t.
“Yeah, barely.” you whispered, growing quiet. Your eyes glossed with tears, and you lowered your head.
“Hey.” Ace nudged, “What wrong?”
“Nothing.”
You shifted up, closing your journal, letting it glide towards the others. You let out a shaky breath, holding your tongue.
Great. That was just more things you needed to study for.
Tears welled.
“____,” he murmured, grabbing your arm.
“Hey, look at me.” Ace pulled you to face him, plopping you to the chair as he kneeled in-front of you. He rested his arms on your thighs, leaning in.
“Hey, you’re doing good. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“I’m not.” you answered, rubbing your face.
“I’m just frustrated and stressed out.”
Ace paused, not expecting you to answer, but agreed. “Yeah, you are.”
“What? Don’t look at me like that, you’ve been stressing over this thing forever.” he grabbed the journal, placing it in your lap. “I’m not completely clueless.”
“I know you’re not, I just. . .”
“Yeah, I know, but look.” he grabbed your chin, tilting it down.
“See this thing here?” Ace gestured to the book, hitting it against your leg. The paper snapped softly throughout the room, and you paused before answering.
“Yeah?”
“You’re trying, ____, and that’s a lot more than other people can say.” he smirked, letting it drop in your lap.
“Look, I know that test—or exam, or whatever the hell you’re working so hard for is important, but you don’t need to worry so much.”
Ace leaned closer, smiling. “You’re smart, really smart, even if that stupid test says otherwise. I know it, deep down you know it, so stop freaking out.”
“You got it, you always do.” he smoothed, poking your forehead.
“I know, that’s why I’m studying but it still doesn’t make sense.” you tried.
“Because you’re thinking too much.” he poked you again, harder this time—making you wince.
“That’s not even a thing,” you muttered, grabbing the journal, but Ace took it right out of your hands.
“Oh—trust me, it is.” he laughed, pulling back.
“You’re doing it now, sitting here crying, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t, get frustrated all you want, but this?” he shook the paper, “doesn’t decide your worth. Even if people say it does.”
“You’re working hard, hard enough anyone out who’s smart enough to realize it, will. So don’t beat yourself up about it.” he smirked, pulling you up.
“You’ll get there, I know you will.” he cupped your face, smoothing over your tears.
You sniffled, lowering your gaze. “You think so?”
Slowly, Ace leaned forward. “I know so, and I’m proud of you for trying, even if it’s hard. You’re getting closer—trust me on that, and you’re getting better without even realizing.”
Gently, his lips met yours. Ace’s kiss was soft, reassuring, and sweet. His hands traveled to your waist, and his forehead leaned against yours.
Steady, and calming.
“You’ll get it right, I know you will. You’re gonna do great.”
hey darling... can i please have a ace x reader fic? Actually i am 21 and still doing AL exams. (AL exams means, something like highschool finals, but the whole country face the exam at the same time and, that is also like an university entrance exam). In 2022, i failed the exam. In 2023, i skipped. In 2024, i barely passed, but not enough grades to go to university. In 2025, i am gonna face it again in 6 months. I am studying mathematics, physics and chemistry. I wanna be an architect one day. If you don't mind, can you write me a study motivational fic please? Thank you
Here you go! Thank you for requesting >:) I hope this helps, and good luck on your exam! Rooting for you from afar! 🫶
Complications |Master-List|