Me Rereading A Scene: Omg Why Is She Acting Like That Who Wrote This? I Wrote This.

surfer ace 🌊☀️

redraw

oh my goddd I just read the Monster trio & pregnant reader fic and i loved it.

Could you write about them as baby dads?

🫵 Made Him a Dad

after the pregnancy and labor let's see their reaction to you going into labor?

a/n: tried to not be repetitive but it was hard lmao

also a special thanks and credits to @katsukis-foxie6 for giving me some ideas, espcially for sanji's ❤︎❤︎❤︎

characters: luffy, zoro, sanji

words count: around 0.9k - 1.3k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

The Straw Hat crew was anchored at a small island, taking a rare break after a long stretch of adventures. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the ship as you cradled your baby girl, Dawn, in your arms. She was only a few months old, but her presence already seemed to brighten every corner of the Thousand Sunny. Her tiny hands wrapped around your finger, and the sound of her soft giggles filled the air.

Luffy, his usual exuberance toned down just a bit, sat across from you, his eyes locked on Dawn with a mixture of pride and awe.

“She’s so cute, y/n,” Luffy said with his signature grin, his voice filled with warmth “Look at her! She’s already so strong! I bet she’s gonna be a great pirate!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at Luffy’s enthusiasm “She’s barely even walking yet, Luffy. Maybe let’s wait a few years before we start recruiting her into the crew.”

Luffy’s face lit up “Oh, at her age I already wanted to be the king of pirates!" He turns to look at you and your serious face kinda scares him "...Y-yeah, we should let her grow a little first! But she’s gonna be the best, I just know it! I’ll teach her everything I know!”

Suddenly, a loud voice boomed from the shore, and you looked up to see none other than your grandfather-in-law, Garp, strolling toward the ship with a big grin plastered on his face.

“Oi, Luffy!” Garp shouted, his signature Marine coat fluttering behind him “I heard you had a kid! About time you stopped being such a carefree idiot and started taking responsibility!”

Luffy jumped to his feet immediately, his eyes widening with excitement “Grandpa! You’re here!” He grabbed Dawn from your arms before you could even protest, holding her in front of Garp with the same proud grin he always wore “Look! This is my daughter!”

You stood up and approached them with a smile, watching Garp’s reaction carefully. Garp stared down at the tiny bundle in Luffy’s arms, his usual gruff expression softening as he regarded her.

“She’s tiny,” Garp muttered, squinting at Dawn, but his voice held a strange tenderness “I didn’t think Luffy could make something this cute.”

Luffy puffed out his chest with pride “She’s gonna grow strong, just like me! And she’s gonna be a great pirate!”

Garp grunted, crossing his arms “A pirate, huh? You’ve got a long way to go if you’re gonna make her one of your little nakama, brat.”

Luffy beamed, clearly not bothered by the teasing “I’ll make sure she’s ready! Right, Dawn?” He shook her gently, making silly noises that caused her to giggle. Dawn’s tiny fingers grasped at Luffy’s hand, and it seemed like the whole world stopped for a second.

Garp let out a low chuckle, his usual gruff demeanor melting a bit as he saw the deep love in Luffy’s eyes “Well, kid, looks like you’re serious about being a dad. I can’t believe it, but I guess you’ve really grown up. She’s got your stupid grin, that’s for sure.”

Luffy looked over at you with wide eyes, his face flushed with excitement “Grandpa likes her! He said she looks like me!”

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for both your husband and daughter “She has your smile, alright” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair from Dawn’s face.

Luffy beamed, clearly feeling validated by Garp’s approval “I’m gonna teach her all kinds of stuff! How to eat a ton, how to never give up on your dreams, and how to make sure the meat’s always cooked perfectly! She’s gonna be awesome!”

Garp raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into a smirk “Well, she’s not gonna be a pirate, that’s for sure.”

Luffy blinked in confusion “Huh? What do you mean? She’s gonna be the greatest pirate ever!”

Garp crossed his arms, grinning mischievously “No way. I’ve seen what happens when you let brats like you run wild. She’s gonna be a Marine, just like her old grandpa.”

Luffy’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief “What?! No way! She’s gonna be a pirate! You can’t stop that!”

Garp laughed, thoroughly amused by Luffy’s reaction “Oh, I can see it now: ‘Little Dawn, future Marine Admiral!’ No pirates for her! She’ll be the one taking you down one day.”

Luffy’s face scrunched up in determination “No! You’ll see! She’ll be a pirate! And she’s gonna be the best one there is!”

You chuckled softly at their bickering, watching as Garp playfully ruffled Luffy’s hair and then glanced down at Dawn.

“She’s got a strong spirit, though,” Garp admitted with a sigh, softening just a little “I can tell she’ll be a handful, just like her old man. But I’ll make sure she knows the proper way to punch things if she ever tries to follow in your footsteps.”

Luffy grinned, not giving up on his dream “I’ll make sure she’s ready to punch things too—pirate things!”

Garp snorted and let out a deep laugh “Well, kid, you’ve got a good one here. Just don’t be surprised when she ends up in a Marine uniform one day.”

Luffy huffed but looked down at Dawn lovingly “We’ll see about that.”

As the sunset painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, you felt the promise of a new journey unfolding, one with your family at the heart of it all. With Luffy by your side and Garp giving his usual advice, there was no doubt that little Dawn would grow up surrounded by love, adventure, and laughter, her own future as bright as the sun setting before you.

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

Your daughter, barely a few months old, has her tiny fingers wrapped around his index finger, her grip firm, almost unrelenting. Zoro raises an eyebrow as he tries to gently pull away, but she refuses to let go, her tiny face scrunching up in determination.

“Damn,” he mutters, glancing at you as you sit beside him, amused “She’s strong.”

You laugh softly, leaning against his arm “Like her dad.”

Zoro doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches your daughter with an unreadable expression, his free hand absentmindedly running over her soft, wispy hair. The moment lingers, quiet, thoughtful, before he finally speaks again.

“No,” he says, voice low “Like her mom.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. When you look up at him, you see the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers twitch slightly against your daughter’s back. He’s thinking about something serious. Something deep.

Zoro’s gaze flickers to you, intense in that way only he can be “That day…” He exhales sharply through his nose. “And not just that day. The whole damn time. Pregnancy, labor... all of it. I thought I knew what strength was, but I didn’t. Not really.”

Your chest tightens. Zoro isn’t one to put things into words often, but when he does, he means every syllable.

“I couldn’t do anything at all,” he admits, still staring at your daughter’s tiny hand around his finger “I just had to sit there and watch while you went through all of it. No fight I’ve ever been in, no injury I’ve ever had... it’s nothing compared to that.” He finally looks back at you, eyes dark with something raw “You’re stronger than me, y/n, believe me.”

You feel your breath catch.

It’s not just the words, it’s also the way he says them, with complete sincerity. Zoro, who has trained his entire life to be the strongest swordsman, means it. He believes it.

You squeeze his arm gently, your voice soft “Zoro…”

He huffs, shaking his head as if the thought still overwhelms him. Then, his expression softens just a little as he looks down at your daughter again. She’s still gripping his finger tightly, completely oblivious to the weight of the moment.

Zoro smirks faintly “She’s lucky to have you as her mom” he mutters.

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest “She’s lucky to have you as her dad.”

He doesn’t answer right away, but you catch the way his grip on your daughter shifts slightly, gentler, but still firm. Protective. Always.

She might have his strength, but Zoro knows exactly where it comes from.

And he’ll never forget it.

Zoro started to be protective towards her since you first announced your pregnancy.

He’s that type of super stressed dads who keeps running around following every single thing she does so that he can catch her if needed. All this with always a big blush on his face.

But it’s not that bad that he controls her bec, in fact, right now, your one-year-old daughter is standing in the middle of the deck, holding onto Luffy’s index fingers as he swings her back and forth like a human jump rope. Every time he lifts her up, she squeals in delight, kicking her little legs mid-air before landing on the deck.

“Again! Again!” she demands, her tiny fists gripping Luffy’s fingers with ridiculous strength.

Zoro, standing nearby with his arms crossed, scowls “Oi. Don’t drop her.”

Luffy grins, stretching his lips wide “Don’t worry! I won’t!”

You, sitting on a crate just a few feet away, shake your head with a sigh “She’s fine, Zoro. Look at her, she’s having fun.”

Zoro doesn’t budge, arms still crossed “She’s one wrong step away from flying into the ocean.”

Luffy gasps, looking at Kazuki with sparkling eyes “You wanna fly?!”

“Luffy, NO.” you and Zoro shout at the same time.

Kazuki claps her hands “Fly!”

“NO,” Zoro repeats firmly, glaring at Luffy “You are not throwing my kid.”

Luffy pouts “But she’s got a strong grip! She wouldn’t even let go—”

“Luffy,” you say, rubbing your temples “let’s not test her durability today, please.”

Luffy sighs dramatically but doesn’t argue. Instead, he lifts Kazuki up and plops her on his shoulders, holding onto her tiny hands so she doesn’t wobble off.

Zoro mutters under his breath but doesn’t stop it. At least Luffy’s holding onto her.

Sanji chooses this moment to stroll onto the deck, cigarette between his lips but dropping it as he walks towards Kazuki “There’s my little princess,” he coos, hands in his pockets “You hungry, sweetheart?”

Kazuki, who has long since associated Sanji with food, beams “Yummy?”

Sanji grins “The yummiest. I made you something special.”

Zoro immediately frowns “What did you make her?”

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Relax, moss-head. Just some soft fruit and rice balls.”

Zoro doesn’t move “You sure there’s nothing weird in it?”

Sanji bristles, instantly getting in his face “Weird? She’s a baby, you muscle-brained swordsman! What the hell do you think I’d put in her food?”

You sigh, standing up to intervene before they actually start fighting “Okay, okay, both of you calm down. Sanji, thanks for making her food. Zoro, you really do look stressed, why don’t you go take a nap? I’ll stay with her.”

“I’m good, I’ll go later… don’t worry” he says softly but still watches like a hawk as Sanji hands Kazuki a tiny rice ball. She immediately grabs it with both hands and shoves it into her mouth, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk.

“Good?” Sanji asks, kneeling to her level.

Kazuki chews, sways on her little feet, then beams “Good!”

You smile and ruffle her hair “Say ‘thank you,’ Kazu.”

Kazuki tilts her head, then garbles around the mouthful of rice “Fanku.”

Sanji clutches his chest like he’s been shot “Ohh, my sweet little angel, you’re so polite—”

Zoro scoffs “Don’t act like you raised her.”

Kazuki points a chubby little finger at Zoro and proudly declares “Dada’s idiot.”

Silence.

Then the crew loses it.

Luffy collapses onto the floor, clutching his stomach. Nami has to lean against a barrel, wiping tears from her eyes. Sanji turns away, shoulders shaking with laughter. Even Robin chuckles from where she’s reading in her chair.

Zoro stares at Kazuki, completely betrayed.

You, barely containing your laughter, kneel beside her “Sweetheart, don’t call your daddy an idiot.”

Kazuki tilts her head, as if deep in thought. Then, just as serious, she looks back at Zoro and says—

“Dada’s big idiot.”

Zoro groans so loud it nearly rattles the ship.

Luffy wheezes. Nami nearly falls over. Usopp actually falls over.

You bite your lip, but it’s no use, you’re laughing too.

Zoro glares at all of you “I blame all of you for this... y/n, stop it”

Kazuki, sensing she’s won, lifts her arms up to Zoro. He sighs, scooping her up, resting her against his chest. She immediately nuzzles into his shoulder, letting out a happy little hum.

“Dada” she murmurs.

Zoro exhales, the corner of his lips twitching despite himself. He presses a kiss to her hair, murmuring, “Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I like you, brat.”

You step closer, resting a hand on his arm “You love her” you tease.

Zoro scoffs “Obviously… unlike you, she doesn’t know what she’s saying”

You go and leave a quick peck on his lips “You’re my lovely big big idiot”.

He blushes like crazy.

Kazuki looks up, sleepy “Dada?”

“Hm?”

She grins “Dada’s big big idiot.”

The crew howls with laughter.

Zoro sighs so deeply, but even as the teasing continues, he holds Kazuki a little closer.

She’s happy, safe, and in his arms. That’s all that matters.

That afternoon, you find them sleeping adorably together, in the same napping position. Smiling, you take a blanket and gently cover them both. Zoro stirs awake, thinking the baby has moved, something that makes you smile even more, knowing how hard it usually is to wake him. When he sees it’s you, he reaches for your hand and quietly invites you to join them, pulling you in for a cuddle.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

Sanji is soft with her.

Softer than you ever thought possible.

You watch from the doorway as he sits on the edge of your shared bed, cradling your daughter so delicately, like she’s made of glass. His thumb gently strokes over her tiny fingers, his breath slow, steady, controlled. But his eyes hold something else.

Something hesitant.

Something uncertain.

Your heart tightens.

“She’s sleeping,” you whisper, stepping closer “You don’t have to be so tense.”

Sanji barely glances up “I know.”

But he doesn’t relax. Not even a little.

Instead, he just keeps staring at her, as if waiting for something. As if at any moment, she’ll change into something unfamiliar, something he won’t know how to handle.

You sit beside him, curling close, resting your head against his shoulder. One arm wraps around his waist, the other reaching out to trace the soft fabric of the onesie your daughter is bundled in. She shifts slightly, making a tiny sound, and Sanji freezes.

You feel the sharp inhale he takes. The way his fingers twitch, just barely, as if bracing himself.

And suddenly, you understand.

“Sanji.” You keep your voice gentle “What’s wrong?”

He exhales slowly through his nose “Nothing.”

You don’t let that slide. Not with him. Not when he’s never been able to lie to you.

You shift, pulling back just enough to see his face “You’re scared.”

His jaw tenses, his grip on your daughter tightening the smallest bit “Of course I am,” he murmurs “I’ve never done this before.”

You shake your head “No, I know it's not just that.”

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. You can see it all over him, the weight of his past, the fears he won’t say out loud.

So you say them for him... “You’re scared of being like him.”

Sanji flinches.

It’s barely noticeable. A fraction of movement, a flicker in his expression. But you know him too well.

“I’m not,” he starts, but his voice falters “I mean—I would never—”

“I know,” you cut in softly “And she’ll know too.”

His breath shudders “But what if—”

“She won’t be like them, Sanji.” You rest your hand over his, where he’s still holding her so, so carefully “And even if she was, she’d still be ours.”

Sanji swallows hard “I don’t want her to be cold,” he whispers “I don’t want her to feel like she has to earn love. I don’t want her to think—” He stops, jaw clenching “Like I did.”

Your chest tightens.

You knew. Of course you knew. You knew how deep his scars ran, how much he still carried, no matter how much love he poured into everyone else.

You squeeze his hand “She won’t.”

Sanji shakes his head “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” you insist, voice steady “Because you are her father.”

That makes him pause.

“She’s going to grow up knowing love, Sanji. Because you give it so easily, so naturally. Because you would rather die than see her cry. Because when she wakes up at night, you hold her before I can even sit up. Because you—” Your voice wavers, but you press on “Because you are already the best father she could ever have.”

Sanji exhales, shaky, uneven. His grip on your daughter loosens just slightly, his thumb resuming its soft strokes against her tiny hand.

“She’s so small” he murmurs, almost to himself.

You smile, leaning into him again “Yeah. But she’s yours.”

That does something to him.

You feel the tension in his body shift, melting just a little. He looks down at your daughter again, something lighter in his expression now. Something less like fear and more like wonder.

“She’s beautiful” he breathes.

You kiss his shoulder “Like her dad.”

Sanji huffs, but you can hear the warmth creeping into his voice “I hope not. She deserves better than a troublesome cook.”

You nudge him playfully “She has a father who will love her unconditionally.”

Sanji doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, he shifts, adjusting his hold on her, drawing her closer. And when he finally speaks, it’s barely above a whisper, so quiet you almost miss it.

“Yeah, she has that.”

Your throat tightens.

You don’t say anything, just slide your arms around him, tucking yourself against his side, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

Sanji rests his chin lightly atop your head. He’s quiet for a moment, but you can feel the way his heartbeat slows, steadying.

Then, just as softly, almost like an afterthought, he murmurs, “I was easy to love. My father was just really bad.”

Your breath catches.

It’s not something he’s ever said before, not so plainly, not so simply.

But now, with his daughter sleeping in his arms, with you curled up beside him, with love so clear and so real around him, he finally believes it.

The fears won’t vanish overnight. The scars won’t disappear. But right here, right now, in the quiet of your room, with your daughter safe in his arms Sanji finally lets himself believe it.

He is more than enough.

And he always will be.

The next morning you wake up to chaos.

“Oi, oi, oi, CAREFUL!” Sanji nearly vaults over the table as Luffy lifts the baby girl high into the air, laughing as she squeals in delight “Luffy, she’s not a sack of flour, PUT HER DOWN!”

“She likes it, though!” Luffy beams, spinning in a circle with her in his arms “Right, mini-cook?”

His daughter giggling is the only reason Sanji doesn’t immediately drop-kick his captain into the next century. Instead, he clenches his fists and growls, “If you drop her, Luffy, so help me—”

“Oh, come on, love-cook,” Zoro snickers, leaning back against the railing “You’re acting like she’s made of glass.”

Sanji whirls around to glare at him “You grip your sword too tight, you sit too close, you BREATHE wrong, and I swear—”

“Oh no,” Nami sighs, crossing her arms with a smirk “We’ve lost him.”

Usopp nods dramatically “RIP Sanji. He used to be cool.”

Franky wipes an imaginary tear “Another victim of dad syndrome.”

Sanji ignores them, practically vibrating with anxiety as Luffy tosses the baby just slightly in the air before catching her again.

“LUFFY, I SWEAR TO ALL THE—”

You snort. Loudly.

And just like that, Sanji freezes.

His brain short-circuits because—oh.

You’re laughing.

Not a little chuckle, not a polite giggle. Full-on, tears-in-your-eyes laughter.

Sanji forgets about murdering Luffy, forgets about all the dumbasses around him, because you’re happy.

His shoulders drop. His fists loosen.

Then, as if sensing his shift, his daughter suddenly reaches her arms out for him.

Sanji immediately swoops in, taking her from Luffy and holding her close to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead “That’s enough flying for today, sweetheart.”

Nami smirks “Aww, the overprotective dad act is over already?”

Sanji barely reacts. Instead, he turns to you, watching the way you’re still wiping laughter from your eyes, and—

God.

If this is what family feels like, if this is what love feels like, then he never, ever wants anything else in the whole world.

One Law headcanon that is truly so beautiful is the one where people write or draw law with vitiligo

Like he always looks so ethereal and stunning! 😩

What appeals to me about whump: an incomplete list

RUN, RABBIT, RUN: Part 1

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Trafalgar Law x Reader Zombie Apocalypse AU

Part 1 of my @infixop gift for @namism!

CW: Zombies, graphic depictions of blood, death and violence. Named side characters (they not super relevant tho). No use of Y/N or gendered pronouns.

WC: 4185

Masterlist Next ->

(A/N at the bottom)

Around one and a half months after you finally left your apartment building and dived into your new life as a vagabond survivor at the end of the world, you meet Law. 

You are the one that finds him, alone and out of breath, a few streets away from the now empty city university. He’s got a large backpack, his clothes are layered and unsoiled, and he glares at you from the shadow of his ugly spotted hat, distrust clear in his eyes.

You don't say anything, but you also don't take your eyes off him. Despite the unnatural danger zombies pose, another human is always more dangerous. And he seems like a threat. You eye the sword he holds in his left hand, unsheathed and covered in gross pieces of rotting flesh. It’s like a katana, but longer than any you’ve seen. 

You raise your shovel. It's not much compared to an actual weapon, the dented metal spade is rough under the sun. You hope you look threatening. 

“Are you going to be a problem?” You shout across the street. A zombie tumbles by a light pole further down the road. Your eyes dart in that direction for a second, then turn back to the man before you. 

“No.” He replies. Simple. He looks down at his sword again, and frowns. A few of the fattier chunks slide off the glistening metal, landing with sad plops onto the hot asphalt. Above you, crows sit one by one on the power lines, their beady eyes watching, never blinking. 

You pull your own eyes away before the implications of the swirling feeling in your stomach actually say anything about your current state of being. 

“Well.” You say, unsure of how to continue. At that moment, your little ragtag group of survivors turns the corner. 

“”Hey! Find anything—” Johnny’s voice dies when he lays his eyes upon that tall stranger with the huge scary sword across the road. 

“I did find something.” You mumble.

For a few seconds, no one moves. The zombie down the road has disappeared down another street, and the crows are beginning to circle, clearly interested in the carrion the man is dropping all over the ground. He stares at you and the three others you met earlier that month. 

Then he sighs. 

Bewilderment grips you. That is not a normal reaction. Or maybe, considering everything, it should be a normal reaction now. 

“Like I said, I’m not going to be a problem.” He takes a step towards you. 

Johnny tenses beside you, and you raise your shovel higher. If the man wants to stab you, the sword will get you long before the shovel could get his head. So you’ll have to throw it for any chance of success. You ready yourself. 

Then the man tosses his sword to the side with a resounding clang. 

You’re not sure if it’s the shock that causes the shovel to slip from your fingers— but the sound is enough to make you jump. You bump into Johnny who in turn, stumbles over his feet and falls to the ground. Heat instantly shoots up your neck, making the tips of your ears feel hot. Great. To embarrass yourselves like this in front of an active threat. Just great. So you raise your leg, and aim your toes towards the middle of your shovel’s handle. Maybe passing it off like you meant to drop your shovel in the first place will encourage him to not think less of you. The darn thing skids across the concrete, coming to a stop a pathetically small distance away from you. 

He stares at you, then at your shovel, and exhales curtly from his nose. 

Despite surviving nine months into the end of the world, you are suddenly overcome with an incredible urge to die. There isn’t time to wallow in that feeling, however, because he steps closer, crossing the road without an ounce of apprehension. 

“Law.” He holds out his hand. The word ‘DEATH’ is tattooed across his knuckles, and what you assume is some circular cult symbol on the back of his hand. 

You respond with your own name, crossing your arms over your chest. Who knows where his hands have been. 

Law stares at you with that same blank yet pointed gaze. The hairs on your neck rise. Huh. Unsure of what to do with this new feeling, you stare back at him, narrowing your eyes into a glare. You can only hope you’re making him feel as unsettled as you are currently. 

“Uh. I’m Johnny.” Johnny says from beside you. He’s standing again, dusting himself off from the fall. 

The other two in your group, Yousaku and Michelle, introduce themselves too. There’s apprehension in their voices. No one tries to shake Law’s hand. 

~~~~

He sticks with the four of you for two nights and three days before the incident. He didn’t have any resources on him despite his big bag, so you compiled together all you had left, and redistributed some to him. The twenty cans of food and bottles of water between the five of you fill you with an anxiety you are now unfortunately familiar with, along with the looming realization that you’ll have to go further into the city to survive. Going further means the danger of both zombies and humans. The apocalypse has put many people in danger. And when people’s lives are on the line, people tend to do crazy things. 

“We’re running out of resources.” Michelle says on the dusk of the second night Law spends with all four of you. After an uneventful day of scavenging, you’re all back at the little blocked up building you’ve been calling home for the last few weeks. It was Yousaku who discovered it a few days after you joined the three of them, located in a quiet part of town that didn't seem to have many other humans or zombies. But that also means the resources there are close to zero. 

You’re all on the roof, huddling around a burning fire. Law sits to your right and Johnny to your left. Michelle is across the fire from you, and you can barely see her illuminated face through the dancing flames. The sun is setting over the horizon. A chill is setting in, seeping in from under you. Michelle’s words do nothing to soothe the shiver that races down your spine. You pull your threadbare blanket closer. 

“I think we should try going across the bridge again.” She continues. 

“I don’t know.” You say. “Aren’t the bridges hosting swarms even in the daytime?” Your old apartment was near the east bridge out of downtown and you barely survived the swarm around the bridge on your first, fateful day out in the wild. Sometimes, the images of grey, rotting skin, and the stink of decomposition in the midday sun still appear behind your eyelids when you close your eyes. 

There is silence. The crackle of fire fills the silence. In the distance, you hear sounds of shuffles and low moans. You push the image of dripping flesh from your mind.

Then Johnny speaks. “If we cross the bridge, there would be more resources, right? There’s a lower concentration of people outside of downtown. And all the big chain stores were in the suburbs.”

“That part is true.” Law says. 

You all turn to look at him. Law hasn’t said much since he joined the four of you two days ago, only mutters affirmation or rejection when handed things or asked to do things. You all wait for him to elaborate. As usual, he does not.

You frown at him. “How do you know that?”

“Logic.” Law says. 

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Mr. Know-It-All, is logic a good reason for us to risk our lives?”

“But there are resources on the other side, right?” Youkasu asks. There’s a hopeful tint to his voice, something you haven’t heard in a long while. 

Law nods. 

“You’re really sure.” Yousaku asks again. 

“Yes.” Law says.  

He’s too relaxed for this. You think. He’s far too relaxed to be guiding you to your deaths.

You look at his fingers again. The dark letters on his skin do not seem to dim in the fading light. 

“Are we forgetting it takes a day to get to the bridge? It’ll be evening by the time we get there!” You say, voice suddenly getting very loud. Because in the evening, right before the sun sets fully over the horizon, the hivemind comes out to eat. Like swarms of ants, the zombies will congregate. Piles of decay shuffling together like a tsunami of flesh to hunt. There were scientists on the news before everything really went to shit, talking about some kind of fungus that liked warm bodies. It made you shudder to think about it back then, and it still makes you shudder to think about it now.

Your worries do not seem to deter anyone else. 

“I mean, the zombies are slow, right?” Yousaku says. 

“We gotta be thankful for the small things.” You mutter sarcastically under your breath. Law makes a choking sound beside you. You glare at him from the corner of your eye, but he doesn’t bother to acknowledge you.

“If there’s a bunch we can fight them off.” Michelle adds. “There can’t be that many at the bridge.”

You make a face at that. You open your mouth, trying to insist that ‘There are that many zombies’, but Johnny interrupts before you can say more.

“Let’s vote.” He says. “Raise your hand if you think we should go to the bridge tomorrow.”

You dig your face into your knees, and slot your arms under your legs. There’s the sound of shuffling— then quiet again.

“Seems like the majority.” Johnny says after a moment. He turns to you then, a reassuring smile on his face. “This might be our best chance at surviving. We’ll be fine. All we need to do is leave before the sun goes down.”

~~~~

That is the first mistake. 

Your group sets out early the next day. It’s sunny outside, but you can’t help but feel the looming threat of a bad decision settling on your shoulders. Your rations reduce just a little more, and everyone else seems more eager to get going. So you pack your bags and no one but you keeps track of the sun in the sky, hyper aware of its position as it slowly crawls westward.

The second mistake is trusting Law’s confidence. 

His big sword really makes him seem unstoppable. It shines in the light as he carries it, resting against his shoulder. His quiet, sure attitude, makes everyone assume the best— which is the third mistake. Even his sword can’t stop the rush of one thousand zombies all coming at you at the same time, their physique enhanced by the soft pink sky of the setting sun.

You carry on. The sun is far too close to the bottom of the skyscrapers when you finally see the bridge. It gleams white in the light, a marvel of architecture. Just as you thought, the surface is covered with the heads of zombies. They sway and shuffle, clothes dropping from their bodies as they stumble aimlessly. A few turn towards you, jaws unhinging at the detection of raw flesh. Anxiety floods you. Your grip loosens and tightens around your shovel handle. 

“Holy shit.” You hear someone say. 

The anxiety clouding your mind turns into a sick satisfaction for just a few fleeting seconds. If you die, at least you die knowing you’re right.

“I think we should get going.” You say instead. You turn to leave. But that’s when you realize. The five of you are surrounded. 

Your immediate instinct is to pick the direction you came from and start hitting. The zombies are many but at least they’re slow. You’re able to take them down at a steady pace— a smash— a step forwards— and the next one comes. Their decomposing fingers reach at you from all directions, teeth clamouring. Dead eyes stare past you, clumps of hair falling out of scalps at the softest contact. It always ends up being an endurance battle. Will you last, or will the zombies outlast you? Your shovel is sturdy under your hands, but your arms are already trembling from exertion. You can barely hear the shouts and screams of the others over your own heartbeat. It’s loud, pounding in your ears as you try to fight the vertigo threatening to overtake you. You’ve never liked bodies or blood. And zombies— with their human shapes and festering flesh— test your ability to stomach the mind-bending nausea. 

For a second you look away. And you see him. Or, you see Law’s hat. Its white colour easily catches the light of the setting sun. He’s going in the complete opposite direction from Johnny, from the heart of the swarm. It’s where the line of zombies is the thinnest. Where the number of heads seems to be the fewest. His sword is raised, and he’s attacking the creatures with a sharp precision you’ve never seen from any of the other survivors you’ve met. He’s slicing through the decomposing bodies like they’re nothing but thin sheets of paper, dropping whole arms, fingers and heads with dull thuds in his wake. You turn back one more time. The voices of the people you spent the last month of hell with travel over the low groans of the zombies. 

They are screaming. Flesh torn from bone. Eaten alive. You can try to save them.

But you are a coward.

You turn and sprint down the path of limbs. For a second you’re Dorothy, bounding down the yellow brick road, where the destination is not a granting of wishes but instead, an embodiment of your desperation for survival. A zombie lunges for you. You swing your shovel and its head flies off. Two more replace it, grabbing at you from the encroaching darkness. Law’s white hat catches the dying light, and you swing your shovel again, and use the spade to shove the swaying bodies to the ground. You jump over another fallen zombie, still twitching, and hurry towards the last place you saw Law. You can barely feel your limbs, only the reverberation of your feet making contact with the hard asphalt as you dodge and hit and shove, the little path Law made growing smaller and smaller with each passing moment. 

You need to survive. 

The zombies come one after another, but the closer you get to Law the easier it is to evade them. One grabs on to your jacket. You break its skull in half. Another catches on to your ankle. It takes a good hit and a hard stomp for that one to let go. Its decomposing fingers all but fall apart as you rip yourself away, heart pounding. The ever-growing shape of Law’s hat is your only saving grace. Suddenly, another lunges out at you from the darkness. You can see its face. Its graying skin, foggy eyes, and lips peeled back from rotting gums. 

Bile burns up your throat as you swing. 

You hit the zombie at its temple. Its head rolls off its neck, the last bits of connecting tissue glazing your shirt and arms. At the same moment the spade of your shovel flies off the handle. It soars through the air like a frisbee before landing somewhere in the middle of the hoard. You’re left with a handle, still clutched tightly in your hands.

Shit!

You run. The zombie that lunged at you was mostly alone, it seems, as the path in front of you is now somewhat clear. Your heart drops, however, when you realize you can no longer see Law. You spend a frantic, precious second frozen in place, looking for him, before you snap yourself out of that panic. You need to run.

Just follow the limbs, you think helplessly. So you do. 

Heart pounding, lungs heaving, you dive through the scattered crowd, ignoring the crunch of bones beneath your feet and the soft splattering of decomposing flesh. The world ahead of you is blurring, your head is spinning, and you don’t realize until it’s too late that you are going to crash into something. 

Bam! The impact halts you completely, and you stumble back, grip almost loosening on the shovel handle. It takes a second, but you realize it's Law.

You look up at him. And it's then you realize his eyes are coloured gold. You quickly avert your gaze, just in time to see another one of those creatures barrelling towards him. You look up at Law again, but he hasn’t noticed it. He’s pushing past you— focusing on something behind you— but not moving fast enough to dodge the mouth gaping at his neck. You move on instinct. The remainder of the handle piece slams into its jaw. It shatters upon impact but the zombie doesn’t fall apart like the others. It’s on the ground now, withering like a worm in the sun, disgusting and pathetic— but no longer a threat. You kick its head for good measure, noticing how its skin and jaw mostly stay together. It must be a fresh corpse, you think grimly.

Turning, you scan the area around you. There are much fewer of them now, two blocks away from the bridge. Law is a short distance behind you. You see his eyes glance down at the carnage by your feet, and then at you. There’s a blooming thread of understanding— and you start running. The zombies Law slashed through have regrouped, and the little gaps to escape are closing slowly in front of you. You charge towards the small space between the two zombies blocking the middle of the road, and brush past them without much issue. You hear Law’s footsteps behind you. It doesn’t take long for him to catch up and overtake your pace. All your desperation allows you to do is keep up.

The air leaves your lungs far too quickly, legs cramping with every lost breath. When Law finally stops, far enough from the river that the sound of rushing water no longer reaches your ears, your vision flashes black. You throw yourself against the brick wall of the building the two of you stopped at. Breathing has never been harder— you heave, gasping for air. You glance up at Law. 

He’s barely huffing. 

Damn him and his long ass legs. You press your palms against the wall, the texture rough and grounding. It takes a few more deep, wheezing breaths before you can move normally again. Law is still there, watching you silently. The sky is now a somber blue. The events that just passed are still fresh, and you’re sure your mind hasn’t properly registered the horror. There are no other survivors. That is the way things are now. You open your mouth, unsure what to say. The silence is too much, too suffocating—

Then, he starts walking away. 

Your stomach drops in panic and you push off the wall. “Where are you going?”

Law shrugs. He’s holding his sword in his left hand and sheath in his right. He doesn’t like sheathing the weapon before cleaning it. “Somewhere to spend the night. I suggest you do the same.”

“You’re not going to survive by yourself.” 

Law stops. 

You’re not sure what drives you to say that. Maybe it’s the thought of braving these streets by yourself, the fear of slaying those creatures with your own two hands, with no one to back you up and no one to know if you die doing so. You’re both rational adults. Or at least, you hope so. But you try anyway. “Isn’t that why you joined us? You almost got bitten back there. You’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for me.” 

He’s silent for a moment then. His eyes do not leave your face. 

The sound of your heart fills your ears again. You lift your chin, and stare right back. A cold breeze blows by, and you fight to hide the shiver that runs through your body.

Then, Law sighs. The sound is heavy. “If you want to come, I won’t stop you.” 

He turns around again, and this time, you follow him without a word. 

~~~~

Life only really fell apart after the power went out. You still remember it happening— staring out your apartment window at the still illuminated city, eyeing the few wandering zombies far below. Then suddenly, everything is black and everything is silent. The low hum of your fridge, your neighbour’s fan, the distant sound of someone’s booming sound system— all gone.

You still remember the creeping horror, the realization that from now on, the night is no longer yours either. Or maybe it never was to begin with. Either way, the fire in front of you is nowhere close to starting and the darkness is growing ever closer. Law is sitting across from you, judgement clear in his eyes. 

“Do you want help with that?” He asks. 

“From you?” You say finally. When Law doesn’t say anything back, you return to your smoldering pile of grass and cardboard scraps. 

Closing your eyes, you try to catch the direction of the breeze. It’s barely there, tenderly brushing against your cheeks. You adjust your body, and you try again. Nothing catches. You shuffle a little more to your left. The flint and steel brush against each other with a satisfying ting and finally, finally, the cardboard lights up. 

“Holy shit!” You jump back, startled by the sudden heat. The cardboard burns hot and fast. You turn around, frantically placing the assortment of coals and pieces of wood you have into the fire, careful not to smother it. The cardboard, thankfully, burns just long enough for the smaller pieces of coal to catch. It's now a waiting game. Slowly, the wood stacked on top of the coals begins to burn as well. A small circle of light is created, keeping away the darkness for a little longer.

“I’ll take the first watch.” You say to Law.

“Sure.” He says, attention going right back to the spread in front of him. His sword is laid out on the ground, and he’s surrounded with scraps of bloodstained fabric. It’s all vague shapes and shades of grey at this point, but the glint of the sword tells you Law has polished it enough to be shiny again. You knew swordkeeping was hard work— but doing it at the end of the world seems a little excessive. 

You lay down on your side of the fire. The thin cardboard below you is a nice alternative to the cold cement rooftop. Vague shapes of your old bedroom dance behind your eyes. You push the thought away. That life, the safe, comfortable one you knew for so long, is now another reality. There is no point in ruminating on what you no longer have. A sound of shuffling, loud enough to catch your ears, carries over from the other side of the roof. It’s probably Law. You can barely see him, slightly illuminated by the small fire. His movements are like ink drops spreading across a canvas, staining and convulsing in a mass of darkness. The fire pricks at the rightmost edge of your vision, and the sky above is endless.

With no lights in the streets, the night is finally a proper darkness to see things. Stars, planets, the reaching edges of the Milky Way spiralling far out across the horizon, surrounded by endless darkness. It’s beautiful, almost hopeful sometimes— and tonight is the first time you’ve gotten the chance to just gaze. So you lay there, comforted by the cold cardboard beneath you, the heat of the fire beside you, and the sight of the slowly spinning night above.

A quiet settles over your rooftop. It is occasionally broken with soft cracks of burning embers. At some point, you think you hear the soft breathing of the person on the other side of the roof. You, however, keep staring upwards.

Your mind can’t help but drift to Law. You don't try to stop it. You think about his overall clean state when you first found him, his sword, and the lackluster attitude he has towards the zombies, like they’re nothing to worry about. You finally think about the bridge. The screams of people you were beginning to think of as friends. He was ready to abandon Johnny, Yousaku, and Michelle the second things went wrong. How can you be sure he won’t abandon you too? He’s only still here because you stopped him.

You stare up at the sky then at the dying fire beside you. You pull your jacket and the flimsy blanket closer to your chin. The chill of the night is still kept away enough by the fire, but it creeps ever closer, nipping at your toes and fingers. 

Despite the ache behind your eyes, you do not wake Law.

A/N: Do it for Miku 🤩🤩🤩 (the thing i repeated while wiritng this during peak midterm season (oml, curve pls save me :'((( )) also thanks to my betas for reading this, all the thanks my good bros

some lore for anyone interested:

the outbreak started because a scientist was studying fungi (specifically fungi that can survive warm bodies) and shot it with some gamma rays or something and made it so it likes humans (animals can't be infected because i like animals :D ). Bro then accidentally got spores on himself and carried it home, aka, out into the the world. Living humans weren't susceptible at first, it only infected dead bodies for a while but then genetic mutation happened and BOOM, live humans were getting it too through open wounds! Then the world exploded :(

the general world timeline is something like: ~12 months ago the first outbreak occured in a hospital morgue, ~9 months ago the apocalypse got bad enough that the military started intervening and the closest power grid blew up or something (this is the point were most people mark as the start of the end), ~ 5 months ago the military got destroyed (cause the mutation also occured around this time), ~ 2 months ago the power reserves got drained, and ~1.5 months ago Reader heads out into the wild

(is this accurate to reality? no lol i did not have time to do that much research)

@ameirin's concept art for my fic Homesick

Unintentional couple behaviour

you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo

words count: around 0.8k - 1.3k each

masterlist || ko-fi

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

You do a lot of things for Zoro without thinking.

You wake him up when it’s time to eat. You stop him from training too much. You make sure he doesn’t get lost whenever the crew visits a new island.

It’s normal for you. Someone has to do it.

But one day, the others start teasing you about it.

It happens at lunch. You are eating with the crew when Usopp laughs and nudges your arm.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna get your boyfriend?”

You blink. “What?”

Sanji, cleaning his hands with a towel, nods toward the deck “That moss-brained idiot. You always bring him to meals. It’s like a little routine between you two now. Like a couple…”

“We’re not—” You nearly choke on your drink “We’re not a couple!”

Usopp grins “Then why do you always take so much care of him?”

“Because he’s stupid and forgets to eat!” you say, standing up “I’ll go get him, but not because of whatever weird ideas you guys have.”

You walk away while they laugh behind you.

You find Zoro exactly where you expect, napping against the ship’s railing, his swords next to him.

You roll your eyes and shake his shoulder “Oi, wake up. Lunch is ready.”

Nothing.

You shake him harder “Zoro. If you don’t get up, I’ll eat your food.”

He grumbles and waves his hand, like he’s trying to swat away a fly.

Sighing, you do what you always do. You grab his wrist and pull him up with both hands. He lets you. He always does, like it’s natural.

Zoro blinks at you, still half-asleep “Huh. You again.”

“Yeah, me again,” you say “Come eat before Sanji ‘forgets’ to save you anything.”

You’re still holding his wrist, making sure he doesn’t fall back asleep. That’s when you notice Nami and Robin watching from across the deck, smiling.

“What?” you ask, feeling awkward.

Nami smirks “You two are cute.”

Your face heats up “We’re not—he’s not—we’re not together!”

Robin chuckles “You do take care of him a lot.”

Zoro frowns, confused “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you mutterl “Come eat.”

You let go of his wrist too fast and walk away, ignoring the warm feeling in your chest.

You think it’s over, but now you notice things.

Zoro always sits next to you at meals, even when there are other seats. You always save food for him without realizing. And during fights, he always protects you first, like it’s a habit.

And, worst of all, people keep pointing it out.

“y/n,” Chopper asks one day, tilting his head “Are you and Zoro dating?”

You almost trip “What?! No!”

“Oh...” He looks confused “But you act like it”

You groan “Not you too”

After that, you can’t stop thinking about it.

The next time you wake Zoro up, your fingers stay on his wrist a second too long. The next time he pulls you behind him in a fight, your heart beats faster.

And then one evening, when you catch him watching you with a thoughtful look, you realize you might be in trouble.

That night, Zoro speaks first.

“Oi”

You look up from your seat on the deck “What?”

He leans against the railing, arms crossed “Does it bother you?”

You frown “Does what bother me?”

“What people are saying” His eyes stay on you “About us.”

You swallow “Why? Does it bother you?”

He doesn’t answer right away “No” his voice is quieter than usual.

Your stomach flips and you look at the ocean “I mean… it’s just dumb teasing, right?”

Zoro doesn’t reply. Instead, he watches you for a long time. Then, finally, he smirks.

“Doesn’t really matter what they say” he says, voice calm but sure “I’d still stick with you either way.”

Your breath catches and suddenly, your heart won’t let you ignore this anymore.

For the next days you try to brush off what the crew said.

You really do, but it’s impossible to ignore when Zoro keeps acting the same way.

Like when you’re on lookout duty together, and he hands you his jacket without a word.

Or when you spar with him, and he pulls his hits just enough so you don’t get hurt.

Or when you fall asleep on the Sunny’s deck, and you wake up covered with a blanket, one you know you didn’t grab.

And every time it happens, you catch the crew watching. Smirking.

It’s driving you insane.

One afternoon, you finally decide to do something about it.

You find Zoro by the training room, lifting weights. His shirt is half undone, sweat glistening on his skin, but you shove that thought aside.

You cross your arms “Hey, Zoro.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, not stopping his reps.

You hesitate “…Why do you treat me differently?”

He finally sets the weight down, wiping his face with a towel “What?”

“You heard me...” You shift uncomfortably “You do things for me that you don’t do for anyone else.”

Zoro leans back against the wall, looking at you like you just asked a stupid question “So?”

“So?” You huff “That means something, doesn’t it?”

He shrugs “I guess.”

You blink “That’s it? You guess?”

Zoro sighs, scratching his head “Look, I don’t really think about it. I just—” He pauses, then shrugs again “I want to.”

Your heart skips a beat “…What?”

“I want to do those things for you,” he says simply “it’s not a big deal”

You stare at him “Not a... Zoro, are you serious?”

He frowns “What, you don’t like it?”

“That’s not the point!” Your face feels hot “You don’t do this for Nami or Robin or anyone else!”

Zoro looks at you, unimpressed “Yeah. Because it’s you.”

You freeze.

The way he says it, so blunt, so obvious, it makes your stomach flip.

He isn’t flustered. He isn’t overthinking it. He’s just stating a fact.

“…Oh.”

Zoro crosses his arms, watching you carefully “Is that a problem?”

You swallow “No. It’s just…”

It’s everything. It’s him always being there, always looking out for you, always treating you like someone important.

It’s a realization you should have had ages ago.

You let out a breathless laugh “I’m an idiot.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow “Well, yeah.”

You smack his arm. He smirks.

But when your hand lingers just a little too long, he doesn’t pull away.

And suddenly, you both understand... this isn’t just a habit.

It never was.

Ever since that conversation in the training room, things between you and Zoro have… shifted, but not in a bad way.

He still trains for hours. Still naps in random spots. Still bickers with Sanji.

But now, when you sit beside him, his arm naturally rests along the back of your chair.

Now, when you fight, he doesn’t just watch your back, he makes sure you’re never out of reach.

Now, when you look at him for a second too long, he looks right back.

Like he’s waiting.

Like he’s giving you the choice.

One evening, you find him on the Sunny’s deck, looking out at the ocean.

“…Can’t sleep?” he asks.

You shake your head, stepping closer “Thinking too much.”

Zoro smirks “Dangerous habit...”

You huff a laugh but don’t argue.

Instead, you stand beside him, silent for a moment before you finally ask...

“Do you regret telling me?”

Zoro frowns “Telling you what?”

“That you… actually treat me differently. That you want to.”

His jaw tightens slightly “No.”

Your heart does something strange “Good.”

You don’t give yourself time to hesitate.

Before doubt can creep in, you grab him and pull him down.

Zoro freezes.

For half a second, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe.

Then a quiet growl rumbles from his chest, and his hand cups the back of your neck as he kisses you back.

It’s firm. Solid. Like he’s been holding back for too long and refuses to anymore.

When you finally break apart, Zoro leans his forehead against yours, exhaling through his nose.

“…Finally” he mutters.

You grin “You were waiting for me?”

“Wasn’t gonna rush you” His fingers brush your jaw “You get there when you get there.”

You hum, leaning into him “And now?”

Zoro smirks “Now, you’re stuck with me.”

You kiss him again, just to make sure he knows you wouldn’t want it any other way.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

Sanji has always been a flirt. That’s just how he is.

He calls Nami and Robin “my love” and “my dear”. He spins around the kitchen whenever they compliment him. He offers to carry their bags when the crew goes shopping.

But when it comes to you, it’s different.

It starts when the crew is eating dinner together.

“Sanji, can you pass the salt?” you ask.

Instead of handing you the salt shaker, Sanji grabs it, twists off the lid, and sprinkles just the right amount onto your plate.

You blink “Uh. Thanks?”

“Of course, my dear” he says smoothly. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns back to his own plate.

You think nothing of it... until you notice the way the others are watching.

Usopp raises an eyebrow “Did he just season your food for you?”

“Yeah?” You shrug “What's new about it? He's a chef and he’s just being nice.”

Luffy grins “He doesn’t do that for anyone else.”

“That’s not true,” you argue “Sanji treats everyone like this.”

Nami hums “Not exactly like this. If we wanted more salt he would start a lecture about how it would ruin his masterpiece.”

Before you can ask what she means, Sanji stands up to grab dessert. He places a plate in front of you first. It’s your favorite.

The crew stares.

You stare too “Sanji…”

He smiles “What? I made extra for you.”

Usopp coughs “Yeah. Okay. Totally normal.”

Robin chuckles behind her hand.

You shake your head and go back to eating. It’s nothing. Sanji is just being Sanji.

…Right?

But then, you start noticing other things.

When you’re cold, Sanji drapes his jacket over your shoulders without you asking.

When you need something from a high shelf, Sanji wordlessly reaches up and hands it to you.

When you’re about to trip, his hand is always there to steady you.

And every time, every single time, he does it so naturally that you don’t even think about it.

Until one day, Franky whistles and says, “You two sure act like a couple.”

You nearly drop the drink in your hands “What?!”

Sanji, who was stirring a pot at the stove, pauses.

Franky leans against the counter, grinning “You two do all that coupley stuff. He gives you the best food, takes care of you, treats you differently from everyone else—”

“That’s not true,” you say quickly “Sanji’s like this with everyone.”

Franky snorts “Nah. He does flirt with everyone. But this?” He gestures between you and Sanji “This is different.”

You glance at Sanji. He’s staring into the pot, silent.

Your face feels hot now “You guys are reading too much into things.”

“Sure we are...” Franky says, smirking. Then he leaves.

The kitchen is quiet now. You swallow and turn to Sanji.

“…Is it true?”

He looks at you. His usual confident smile is gone. Instead, there’s something softer in his eyes.

“I don’t know” he says “is it?”

Your heartbeat quickens.

Suddenly, every touch, every sweet gesture, it all feels different.

Maybe it wasn’t just a habit.

Maybe it was something else all along.

After all this the teasing has only gotten worse.

Ever since Nami and Usopp pointed out how Sanji treats you, they will not let it go.

“Here comes Sanji’s beloveeeed~” Usopp sings when you walk into the kitchen.

“I should start charging you for all the extra food Sanji makes only for you” Nami smirks.

Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t care about these things, grins at Sanji one afternoon and says “Oi, cook, when are you gonna marry y/n?”

Sanji chokes on his cigarette so hard he has to brace himself on the counter.

You groan and drag a hand down your face.

But what really drives you insane?

Sanji never denies it.

He stutters, blushes, waves his hands, but he never says “That’s not true.”

Because it is true.

And it’s starting to drive you crazy.

You try to ignore it. But then you start noticing things, even the smallest ones.

Sanji never lets you carry anything heavy.

He always pours you tea first, even before Nami and Robin.

He adjusts your chair at dinner like it’s second nature.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

But you do.

And now, every time he gives you that look—the one that’s soft, full of admiration, like you hung the damn sun in the sky—your heart stumbles over itself.

This has to stop.

Or something has to change.

It happens one evening after dinner.

You’re in the kitchen, helping Sanji clean up. He hums as he washes the dishes, sleeves rolled up, golden hair falling over his forehead.

You watch him for a second, then take a deep breath.

“Sanji.”

He glances at you, smiling “Yes, my love?”

You grip the counter “Why do you act like we’re together?”

Sanji freezes.

The faucet keeps running. The kitchen is warm with the smell of spices. But Sanji is frozen.

Slowly, he turns his head toward you “…P-Pardon?”

You cross your arms “You treat me differently. Even the crew notices. You never do this stuff for anyone else.”

Sanji swallows hard “I—”

“You never deny it,” you press “and honestly? I’m tired of waiting for you to finally say something.”

Sanji stares at you like you’ve just flipped his entire world upside down.

His hands shake. His lips part like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out.

“…Sanji.” Your voice softens “Do you want this to be real?”

A shuddering breath leaves him. He looks at you, eyes wide, vulnerable.

“More than anything...” he whispers.

Your heartbeat stutters.

That’s it. That’s all you need to hear.

You step forward, grab the front of his shirt, and kiss him.

Sanji malfunctions.

His entire body locks up, like his brain has completely short-circuited.

For a solid two seconds, he does not move.

Then a noise escapes him, something between a whimper and a desperate sigh, and his hands come up to cup your face, pulling you closer.

The kiss is warm, overwhelming, but soft, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tight.

When you finally pull away, he’s redder than his own suit.

“…M-Mon amour,” he breathes, voice shaking “You...you actually...”

You smirk “Took us long enough, cook.”

Sanji makes a strangled sound and immediately buries his face in your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you.

Outside, the crew is losing their minds.

“TOLD YOU!” Usopp shouts.

“I WON THE BET!” Nami cheers.

“Oi, Sanji, you alive in there?” Zoro snickers.

Sanji doesn’t answer. He’s too busy melting against you, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

And honestly?

You think you’ll let him.

── .✦ Trafalgar D. Law:

Law is not the kind of person who likes physical contact. He doesn’t let most people touch him. He keeps his distance, always standing at the edge of conversations with his arms crossed. If someone bumps into him, they get a glare.

But for some reason, you are different.

It starts when Bepo hands you a coat one evening.

“Here,” he says, tail flicking “you left this in the lounge.”

You blink at it. It’s black, long, and definitely not yours.

“This isn’t mine” you say, confused.

Bepo tilts his head “Oh. But you always wear the captain’s coat, so I thought it was yours now...”

You freeze.

“Wait. What?”

Shachi walks by and hears the conversation. He grins “Yeah, you totally do. Every time you’re cold, you steal his coat.”

Penguin nods “And Law never complains.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Try to remember.

…Okay, maybe you have borrowed Law’s coat a few times. But that’s just because it’s warm! And because it’s there! And because...

Oh no.

Your stomach twists “I... I do not...”

“Sure you don’t...” Shachi teases “What’s next? Calling him ‘dear’?”

You groan and shove the coat at Bepo before walking away.

But now, you can’t stop thinking about it.

After this, you start noticing other things. Like how Law always lets you into his personal space.

How you can tug his hat down over his eyes without him pushing you away.

How he casually rests his hand on your shoulder when he stands next to you.

One day, you trip over a loose crate. Before you even hit the ground, a familiar blue glow surrounds you... Law’s Room.

In an instant, you’re back on your feet, completely unharmed.

The Heart Pirates snicker.

“Captain didn’t even think” Penguin whispers.

“He never uses Room for anyone else’s clumsiness” Shachi adds.

You glare at them “I heard that.”

They just smirk.

Law doesn’t say anything. He just sighs and keeps walking, like saving you without thinking is the most natural thing in the world.

Your heart does something weird. You ignore it.

Later, you sit on a crate, arms crossed. Law stands next to you, reading a medical book.

You glance at him “Your crew keeps calling me ‘Captain’s partner.’”

He doesn’t look up “So?”

“So, why?”

He flips a page “Probably because you act like one.”

Your brain short-circuits.

You stare “Excuse me?”

Law finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow “You’re always in my quarters, you steal my coat, and you act like you belong next to me. They’re not wrong.”

Your face burns “I... You let me do all that!”

He smirks “I know.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Because suddenly, you realize... he has let you. And he still is.

Ever since Bepo and the others pointed out how Law treats you differently, it’s been impossible to ignore.

The extra care during missions. The way he always stands just a little closer than necessary. The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his shoulder, even his hand, when no one else would dare.

But what really gives him away?

The way his ears burn red every time you get too close.

And yet he never says anything.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was running an experiment to see how long he could keep this up before you lost your mind.

So tonight you’re calling him out.

You find him in his quarters, buried in medical books.

“Hey, Law.” You lean against the desk, arms crossed “Can I ask you something?”

His eyes flick up “What?”

You tilt your head “Do you like me?”

Law chokes.

Not just a little cough... he full-on chokes on air, slamming his book shut as if that’ll somehow save him.

“What—?!” He coughs into his fist “Where the hell did that come from?”

You raise an eyebrow “You tell me.”

Law scowls, shifting uncomfortably “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh? Am I?” You step closer.

He stiffens “What are you...?”

You place your hands on the arms of his chair and lean in, caging him in.

His breath hitches.

Oh. Oh.

He is not prepared for this.

“Law,” you murmur, watching his face closely “you never let anyone touch you, but you let me.”

His jaw clenches “That doesn’t—”

“You always make sure I rest. You check my injuries before anyone else’s.”

“Because you’re reckless—”

“And...” you lean even closer “your ears are red right now.”

Law swallows.

You smirk “So, wanna try again?”

For a long moment, he just stares at you, lips parted, golden eyes darting between yours.

Then, in a last-ditch effort, he growls... “You’re annoying.”

You hum “Maybe.”

And then you kiss him.

Law goes still.

For the first time since you’ve known him, he is completely speechless.

But then a quiet sound escapes him, and his hand suddenly grips your wrist, holding you there.

You almost pull back, unsure, until his other hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he kisses you back.

It’s hesitant at first, but when you don’t pull away, something shifts.

The kiss deepens, his grip tightens, and the heat radiating off of him is enough to make you dizzy.

When you finally part, Law exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours.

“…You’re gonna be a problem” he mutters, voice rough.

You grin “Yeah?”

His fingers tighten in your hair “Yeah.”

And then, despite everything, he kisses you again.

Because for once in his life he’s done running.

── .✦ Portgas D. Ace:

Ace is naturally affectionate.

He throws an arm around people’s shoulders, laughs loudly, and grins like the world is a joke he’s in on. He’s warm but also because he makes people feel welcome.

So it’s not weird that he touches you a lot.

Right?

It starts when Marco sits down next to you, smirking.

“You and Ace finally together, yoi?”

You look at him confused “what do you mean?”

“A couple… are you two a couple?”

You almost drop your drink “What? No!”

Marco raises an eyebrow “You sure? He always saves you a seat at meals. Always gives you his food if you ask. Always keeps an eye on you during fights.”

You roll your eyes “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just like that.”

“Not with everyone” Marco takes a sip of his drink “Just you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but then you don’t know what to say, because now, you’re thinking about it.

The next time Ace sits beside you at dinner, you notice how he slides his plate a little closer to yours, letting you steal his food.

The next time the crew docks at an island, you notice how he instinctively waits for you before walking off together.

The next time you’re about to trip, you don’t even get the chance to fall, Ace grabs your wrist and steadies you like it’s second nature.

And maybe it is second nature.

“Careful, Ace,” one of the division commanders teases “If you keep acting like that, y/n might actually think you’re in love.”

Ace laughs, scratching the back of his head “Yeah, yeah.”

You laugh too. Because it’s just a joke… Right?

One night, you sit together on the deck, watching the ocean.

You fidget for a second before saying “The crew keeps calling us a couple”

Ace hums “Yeah?”

You glance at him “Why do you think that is?”

He leans back, arms behind his head, and grins “Probably because we act like one.”

You choke on your own breath “Excuse me?!”

Ace tilts his head “I mean, we do everything together. You always take my food, and I always let you. You always pull me out of trouble, and I always let you. Feels natural, doesn’t it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because now that you think about it... yeah, it does feel natural.

“…Ace,” you say slowly “Are we...?”

He looks at you, amusement flickering in his eyes “What do you think?”

Your stomach flips.

Because suddenly, you’re not sure where the habit ends and the feelings begin.

After this, Ace keeps flirting with you all the time.

It’s just who he is.

Winks across the deck. Throwing an arm around your shoulders. Calling you hot stuff like it’s your actual name.

You’re used to it.

But after the teasing from Marco and Thatch, after realizing that Ace treats you differently, you start to wonder.

Is he just playing around? Or is there something real underneath?

There’s only one way to find out.

The perfect opportunity comes one afternoon, when Ace flops down next to you on the Moby Dick’s deck, grinning.

“Hey,” he drawls, resting an arm behind his head “Miss me?”

You smirk “I saw you literally two hours ago.”

“That’s two hours too long.” He winks “Bet you were thinking about me the whole time.”

You hum, tilting your head “You really think that, huh?”

Ace chuckles “C’mon, you love me.”

You raise an eyebrow “Prove it.”

He blinks “Huh?”

You shift, leaning closer with a sly smile “You say all this stuff, Ace. You flirt, you tease... but are you actually serious?”

For the first time, he hesitates.

Just for a second, but it’s enough.

“…Of course I am,” he says, but his usual confidence isn’t all there.

You smirk “Then show me.”

Before he can react, you grab his hat, his precious hat, and plop it onto your own head.

Ace short-circuits.

“Oi! That’s...!” He reaches for it instinctively but stops mid-motion, staring at you.

You tilt the brim with a smirk “What? You said you liked me, right?”

Ace swallows “Y-Yeah?”

“Then just take it back.”

You expect him to snatch it back playfully.

What you don’t expect is for Ace to grin, eyes flickering with mischief, and suddenly tackle you onto the deck.

You yelp as he hovers over you, forearms braced on either side of your head.

The crew whoops in the background, but neither of you pay them any attention.

Ace smirks down at you “You think you’re funny, huh?”

You grin “A little.”

Ace shakes his head, chuckling, but then his expression softens.

He reaches up, tilts the hat back just enough to see your face properly.

And then without thinking he leans down and kisses you.

It’s grinning into the kiss kind of playful. It’s warm and teasing but full of something deeper.

And when he pulls back, face way too close, he murmurs “Now you gotta prove it.”

Your heart races.

You don’t back down. Instead, you tug him down by his necklace and kiss him again.

This time, Ace melts.

When you finally break apart, Ace huffs out a breathless laugh.

“Well,” he grins “Guess you do love me.”

You roll your eyes “Shut up.”

But you don’t stop him when he kisses you one more time.

Because, honestly?

He’s right.

── .✦ Sabo:

Sabo is easy to be around.

He’s kind, smart, and always ready to listen. He laughs at your jokes, never forgets your favorite things, and somehow always knows when you need him.

So it’s no surprise that you spend a lot of time together.

But apparently, the way you act around him is a little… suspicious.

It starts when you’re walking through the Revolutionary Army base with Koala.

“So,” she says casually “when are you and Sabo going to make it official?”

You nearly trip over your own feet “What?!”

Koala grins “Come on, don’t play dumb. You two already act like a couple.”

You scoff “No, we don’t.”

She raises an eyebrow “Oh really? Who’s the first person Sabo looks for when he gets back from a mission?”

“…Me.”

“Who’s the only person he lets borrow his gloves?”

“…Me.”

“And who’s the only one he lets fall asleep on his shoulder without complaining?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Because—oh.

Oh.

Koala smirks “See what I mean?”

You shake your head “That doesn’t mean anything. We’re just close.”

She shrugs “If you say so.”

But now, you can’t stop thinking about it. You start noticing things, like how Sabo always finds a reason to sit next to you during meals, or how he reaches out to fix your collar or tuck your hair behind your ear like it’s normal, or how he always makes sure you have a blanket when you fall asleep at your desk, even though no one else gets that treatment.

And the worst part?

Now that you’re paying attention, everyone else is too.

“I swear, it’s like they’re married” one soldier mutters.

“They finish each other’s sentences” another whispers.

“Bet they don’t even realize” someone else chuckles.

You groan and drop your head onto the table.

Sabo, sitting beside you, blinks “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” you mumble.

He frowns, then wordlessly slides his drink toward you.

You stare at it “…Did you just give me your drink?”

He shrugs “You like it more than I do.”

You glance around. Several soldiers are watching now, smirking.

Slowly, you push the drink back to him.

Sabo looks confused “You don’t want it?”

Your face burns “Nope. I’m fine.”

He tilts his head, then shrugs and takes a sip.

The others snicker.

You sigh.

Later that night, you sit beside him on the rooftop, watching the stars.

“Sabo,” you say carefully “do we… act like a couple?”

He hums “Why?”

“People keep saying we do.”

Sabo leans back on his hands, thinking. Then he smiles “I guess I can see why.”

Your heart skips a beat “You can?”

“Well, we’re always together,” he says easily “I trust you more than anyone. You take care of me, I take care of you. Feels normal.”

You stare at him “That’s… kind of a couple thing, don’t you think?”

Sabo looks at you for a long moment. Then he smirks.

“Well,” he says, voice teasing but gentle “do you want it to be?”

Your breath catches.

And suddenly, the answer seems obvious.

Sabo has always been easy to be around.

You never have to force a conversation. Never have to second-guess his presence.

He’s just there, a steady warmth beside you, the hand that always steadies your back when you walk through the Revolutionary camp, the person you find yourself naturally leaning against when you’re tired.

And the thing is?

He never pulls away.

Even now, sitting beside you near the fire after a long day, his arm rests lightly along the back of your seat. Close enough to feel, but not demanding.

It’s natural.

But tonight, something’s different.

There’s a quiet between you, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unsaid.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your head is resting against his shoulder, and instead of shifting away, Sabo just exhales softly, tilting his head against yours.

You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“…I like this” you murmur, barely thinking.

Sabo hums “Me too” A pause. Then... “I always have.”

Your heart stutters.

Slowly, you lift your head, turning just enough to meet his gaze.

His expression is calm, too calm, like he’s waiting for you to understand something he’s known for a long time.

And you do.

Because of course it was always him.

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

Instead, you reach up, gently tracing your fingers along his jaw.

Sabo closes his eyes briefly at the touch before opening them again, watching you with something unreadable, something deep.

Then, without hesitation, he leans in.

The kiss is slow, certain.

It’s not rushed, not desperate because this was never a question.

It was always going to be this.

When you part, Sabo lingers, his forehead resting against yours.

His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together easily.

“…Feels like we should’ve done that a long time ago” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours.

You smile “Maybe. But I think we got here at the right time.”

Sabo chuckles softly, squeezing your hand “Yeah. I think so too.”

And when he kisses you again, it feels like something that was simply meant to be.

14 beers zoro

Sketchbook page of our fav sharpshooter hehe 🎯