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justauthoring · 1 day ago

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The is the Beginning [3/?]

Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.

A One Piece Live Action Rewrite

Part One - Part Two - Part Three

Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

TW for this chapter: canon typical violence, jealous!zoro, self-depricating talk, angst but fluff too! & Sanji content because I love him

Word Count: 10,710

A/N: I am so excited for this chapter. Literally so much happens in this chapter and AHHH I hope you all enjoy <3

Tag List: @emmaiscool22 - @bethleeham - @veryunoriginal - @sun-rae04 - @medievalfangirl

Chapter Three - Together

“Did you just call that guy grandpa?”

Mouth still left parted in shock, you stare at the back of Luffy’s head, waiting for him to answer Zoro’s question. Or, at the very least, clarify what exactly he meant by calling the Vice Admiral of the Marine Corps grandpa—because surely he was not actually related to your captain; your captain of a pirate crew.

Though, you’re at a loss to think of what else Luffy could have possibly meant.

Meeting Zoro’s gaze, the two of you stood directly behind Luffy, his expression matching your own.

“Hit the deck!”

You barely have time to register Usopp’s warning, only seeing something black and something very much like a cannon heading straight your way, before arms are grabbing you and pulling you down. You’re tucked into a chest, your own arms coming to protect yourself as you try to ignore the ache the sudden movement pulls on your stitches.

The rumble of the cannon hitting the ship fades, and slowly, you pull away, meeting Zoro’s gaze first, realizing then he’d been the one to pull you down (you don’t have time to think about how that makes you feel), before both of your gazes fall on the broken fence of your ship deck.

Pressing a hand to your waist, you move to stand, Zoro shuffling back to give you room. He offers a hand, to which you take, letting him help pull you up to your own feet.

“Everybody okay?” Luffy calls, and your eye falls on him in front of you.

“I think so,” Nami calls back, breathless. Both her and Usopp were further back from the explosion, up on the helm deck.

“No,” Usopp cries, popping up beside her. “Not okay. Not even close to okay.”

You shake your head, trying to ignore your own panic that’s bubbling inside of you. “We need to do something,” you urge, facing back towards the marine ship. “They’re just gonna keep shooting at us until we sink.”

Meeting your gaze briefly, Luffy nods. “Usopp!” He calls, pointing directly at the marine ship and his grandpa. “Fire back at them!”

“Or how about we sail away as fast as we can?” Usopp offers.

Luffy turns to look at him, looking bewildered that he’d even offered the idea. But Nami only extends a hand towards Usopp, clearly in agreement.

“Run from the Marines?” Luffy breathes, “no. Never! Nami, trim the… the sail thing. Let’s sink their ship.”

Usopp, probably despite his own fear, comes to meet Luffy with the cannon ammo.

“You want to sink a marine ship?” You echo in disbelief. “That’s… insane.”

“Not to mention, we don’t have time!” Nami argues, “they’re stealing our wind. If they pull up alongside us, we’re finished.”

Luffy just ignores her. “You’re the navigator. Do something.”

Turning to her, she meets your gaze. You offer a helpless shrug.

Nami huffs. “Zoro,” she calls, shifting her gaze past you. “Sheet in and hard to port! Y/N, stay there and don’t get more hurt.”

Feeling useless, you huff, but listen to Nami regardless. You knew you’d only pay worse if you didn’t.

“You know how to load a cannon?” Luffy asks Usopp, who chuckles nonchalantly in return.

You seriously doubt that.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve loaded thousands of them.” Almost as soon as he says that, he hesitates with the cannon in hand. “Uh, this just must be a different model than I’m used to.”

Huffing, you shuffle forward. “Load the cannon in the barrel,” you explain, pointing at the barrel as he turns to look at you helplessly. “Light the fuse and then get out of the way.”

Nodding at you, he shuffles forward, moving to the front of the cannon. Only, before he can load the barrel, he drops all the cannons in his hands.

“Usopp!”

Eyes widening, you rush forward to help, but Luffy holds a hand out to you, shaking his head as he moves to run after Usopp and the cannons which have gone down the stairs.

Pressing a hand to your forehead, you sigh.

“We’re so gonna die.”

Somehow, you don’t die.

After Luffy somehow manages to deflect a cannon with his belly, Nami quickly makes the five of you disappear into the thick of the fog. The second you’d gotten away, Luffy had crawled up to the bow and taken a seat. He hadn’t said a word since.

Nami had taken to steering, and since she was probably the most qualified person, you’d left her to it. You instead decide to lean against the railing, letting your eyes stay focused on the back of Luffy.

It wasn’t like him to be quiet, and you had no doubt it had something to do with the fact that his grandpa had nearly just destroyed his ship and killed him and all his friends. With how Luffy was, you figured he probably hadn’t come to terms with that reality yet and he would probably continue to ignore it until forced to otherwise.

“How’s the ship looking?”

Inhaling sharply, you glance over your shoulder, eye falling on Zoro as he shakes his head at Nami. “Broken railing,” he answers, “minor damage. Could’ve been a lot worse.”

Nami rolls her eyes; “could’ve been better.”

“Can’t see the Marines anywhere,” Usopp assures.

“Can’t see anything in this soup,” Nami corrects. “What we need is a place to lay low, wait out any reinforcements they send after us. My charts are useless in this fog.”

Zoro nods. “What did Luffy say?”

You sigh; “he’s on the bow,” you point ahead of yourself. “He hasn’t said anything since we hightailed it. I’m…” Hesitating, you chance one glance at his back before turning back to the three. “I’m worried about him.”

“Somebody needs to talk to him,” Nami says. “About this and that other thing.”

Zoro frowns. “What other thing?”

“Oh gee, I wonder,” Nami says, obviously sarcastic.

The expression on Zoro’s face tells you he really doesn’t know what.

“The Vice-Admiral-of-the-Marines-is-my-grandfather-thing.” Nami explains, looking at you all like it’s obvious.

You offer a shrug; “I’m confused too… but it feels wrong to interrogate him about it. Especially after the guy tried to kill us.”

Nami just blinks over at you.

“Yeah…” Usopp drawls, “I don’t really know the guy that well, so…”

Zoro nods; “doesn’t seem like a big deal.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that it isn’t a big deal…” You say tentatively, wary of Nami’s reaction and unable to deny the curiosity you feel. It did beg questions and it was a little wrong that Luffy had chosen not to tell any of you. “I just don’t know…”

Nami hesitates a moment, before shaking her head, turning to Zoro. “You’re his first mate,” he reminds, “kind of seems like that falls under your job description, hmm?”

He glances at you and Usopp, probably hoping one of you will do it instead of him. Usopp sends him a sheepish smile, holding the straps of his overalls and rocking on his feet, making his answer clear. When Zoro meets your gaze, you press a hand to your waist and smile nervously; “I’m injured?”

You were worried, but you also had no idea how to breach a conversation like that with Luffy of all people.

It’s obviously an excuse, but Zoro doesn’t argue. With a blink, he turns; “fine.”

You watch him leave, before meeting Nami’s gaze.

“You’re aware that Zoro is probably the worst person to check in on Luffy, right?” You raise a brow, “no way he’s actually gonna find anything out.”

Sighing dramatically, Nami presses her forehead to the helm.

Sure enough, a minute later Zoro comes back, shrugging; “seems fine to me.”

“Did you even ask him?”

Before Zoro can respond, if he even was going to, Luffy suddenly stands; “hey!” Pausing, he sniffs, raising his finger. “You guys smell that?”

Your brows furrow. “Smell what?”

Luffy’s quiet for a moment, taking in the air, before he breathes out; “there’s something on the breeze.” Sniffing again, his eyes widen. “Smells like butter. Soy sauce. And meat.”

He grins back at the four of you.

“I can’t smell anything,” Usopp frowns, moving towards Luffy. He seems almost disappointed he can’t smell anything.

“Think he has brain damage?” Zoro asks you and Nami.

Nami huffs, crossing her arms; “I think that every day.”

You let out a nervous laugh.

“Look, Luffy,” Usopp scratches his head. “Playing follow the smell is fun and all, but we really got to get out of this fog.”

“I know,” he calls back, “but I smell food, which means that there’s someone somewhere cooking.”

You’ll never doubt Luffy’s nose again.

Turns out what he was smelling was a whole restaurant, and without having anywhere else to go and needing food, you’d all decided to dock there and get something to eat. Luffy and Usopp had been roaring to go the second the ship docked, barely able to stand still, which made Nami eager to get off the boat just so she didn’t have to deal with two idiots. You’re pretty excited yourself, but just as the ship docked, you’d noticed a bit of red on your shirt. You very quickly deduced it was your wound and obviously, after the excitement of nearly being hit by a cannon, you’d aggravated your stitches.

“You sure you don’t need help?” Nami frowns, hesitating to follow Luffy and Usopp off the ship. Zoro was hanging by the plank too, you couldn’t help but notice. He wasn’t offering to stay, of course, but he seemed concerned.

Shaking your head from the thought, you smile at Nami. “Positive.” You assure, sending her a thumbs up. “I just gotta change the bandage and my shirt and I’ll meet you guys there. Just let the host know I’m coming.”

Hovering for only a moment longer, Nami nods. “You can borrow one of my shirts again,” she offers. “Remind me next time we’re on an island to get you some clothes. When we’re not being chased by Marines.”

You laugh, nodding at her and turning to head to your and Nami’s shared room. You pause, however, when your eye catches Zoros’ once again. He looks like he wants to say something, and for some reason you find you can’t offer anything in return. It takes Nami, who’d seen the rather obvious and embarrassing display, to grab Zoro by the arm and pull him with her to get either of you to move.

Cheeks burning, you rush down to the room, trying to ignore the flutter of your chest or the nerves flooding through your entire body.

Seriously, it was starting to get too much. Before, you’d at least be able to brush it off as being intimidated by Zoro since he was, well, a pretty intimidating guy. But since the whole Kuro incident and you getting hurt, every time Zoro’s eyes seemed to fall on you, that narrowed and heavy gaze lightened into something soft. It was hard to ignore or not let get to you when he’d already made you all hot and flustered before.

He was attentive in a way you hadn’t experienced or expected from him. Everyone had been worried when you’d gotten hurt. You distinctly remember being surprised by how bothered Nami had seemed by it and even Usopp, who you’d just met, had checked in on you. But Zoro? Zoro had been concerned in a whole other way. Rather than just asking you or checking in like Luffy had, he’d hovered. He stayed near when Kaya had cleaned and stitched your wound for you, helping you walk there and then back to the ship even when you assured you were fine.

You’d never had someone so worried about you, let alone a man you were clearly attracted to.

You didn’t know if Zoro had any idea of what he was doing to you, but he was killing you. Your heart was always racing when he was near, which was always, and he made you feel like a fumbling fool, mind short-circuiting to the point of silliness whenever his eyes fell on you.

You’d never forget what he’d said about your eye. How he’d made you feel about it. Luffy and Nami had been endearing too, you would never deny that, but Zoro had spoken up first. And the look on his face…

Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you try to cool the heat you feel and your racing mind. This was silly. You were being silly. Zoro was just being nice and he probably just saw what a helpless fool you were and felt pity. There was nothing more to it.

Zoro was a strong swordsman, a renowned bounty hunter and Luffy’s first mate and you were… you.

Swallowing thickly, you sit down at the desk in your and Nami’s shared room, pulling up your shirt and glancing down. As expected, your wound has bled through your bandage. Momentarily, you worry that you’ve ripped your stitches, but the second you pull the bandage off, you’re assured that isn’t the case. You clearly just aggravated the wound and, pausing to clean the blood and apply the salve Kaya had given you, you place a new bandage on.

You take a moment more to find a shirt to wear, thankful Nami was being so generous with her clothing. You could tell the girl took her fashion seriously and you felt bad enough borrowing her clothes, but now you were ruining them with blood. You’d have to make it up to her somehow.

Cleaned with a new bandage on, you smile to yourself, feeling your stomach rumble almost as if reminding you.

Without a second more of hesitation, you make your way up and off the Going Merry. The Baratie is buzzing with people and you can’t help but let your gaze wander across the millions of different people going on with their lives, each in their own world. You continue to do so until you find the front entrance to the restaurant, and with a simple explanation to the host that you were here with friends and a small description of some friends, you’re led to the table.

You pause, however, when you realize the waiter is already taking your friends’ order.

The host leaves your side and with only a second more of hesitation, you make your way to the table, not having realized you’d taken so long.

“Do I still have time to place an order?”

Everyone's eyes fall on you at your question, and coming to a stop on the left of the waiter, right in front of Zoro. You frown when you notice the tense look on his face, concerned, but before you can ask, your captain is beaming at your arrival.

“Y/N!” Luffy calls, grinning. “You’re just in time! I ordered one of everything for us!”

You shouldn’t be surprised, but his words still pull a laugh from your lips. Of course Luffy would order the entire menu.

“I didn’t know I would be greeted by two beautiful maidens today. And one with such an infectious laugh.”

Freezing, it takes you a second to realize that the words had come from the waiter and that he was talking to you. Eyes widening, you turn to him, meeting his eyes with your left one, only to see him smiling at you. One hand is shoved into the pocket of his dress pants as he turns towards you with a certain suaveness.

Cheeks warming in embarrassment, your hands rise. “Oh, I—”

But before you can finish, the waiter is taking your left hand in his, pulling it up to his lips and pressing a kiss there. No longer just warm, your cheeks burn.

“Such beautiful eyes too, madam,” he grins, “I’ll never forget either of them.”

You’re hyper aware of the fact that your entire crew is watching this happen and that you’re standing there, gaping like a fish. You’ve never had anyone flirt with you, especially not someone so… persistent.

The waiter continues to stare back at you, never once looking upset by your lack of response.

An achingly long minute passes.

“Y/N.”

You don’t even have time to turn to Zoro at him calling your name before you feel hands fall on your hips, tugging you forward. A small yelp leaves your lips in response, stunned stupid, as Zoro pulls you in front of him, practically on his lap for a brief second, your hand slipping from the waiter's grip. Zoro moves you so you’re sat next to him, in between him and Nami who sends you a knowing smirk as you try to ignore your racing heart and flaming cheeks.

“Oi,” the waiter calls before you can, again, say anything. “Don’t be so rough with her.”

Zoro glares right at him. “Don’t be so handsy,” he growls back, not missing a beat. “Y/N doesn’t even know you.”

“She can get to know me,” the waiter challenges, curling a brow at your swordsman before his eyes shift back to you. “I’m sorry our introduction got interrupted, my name is Sanji. It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

You’re sure you look as stupid as you feel.

“N-Nice to meet you too, Sanji,” you echo back, voice small.

Sanji grins just as Zoro leans forward, cutting you off from view. “Shouldn’t you be getting our food and drinks? The ones we ordered, waiter?”

The smile on Sanji’s face tenses, but he holds back whatever he clearly wants to say to Zoro, side stepping to meet your eyes once again. “Certainly, but first… what would you like, madam? Water like your lovely friend or something else? A sweet wine, perhaps? I can recommend some to you.”

You meet Nami’s eyes who just scoffs, obviously having received similar attention as you were now.

“Water,” you squeak. “Like her.”

“Not sparkling? Mineral? Ice or no?”

“Just water,” you nod, noticing the tick in Zoro’s jaw.

“Coming right up, Y/N,” he winks at you, smirking, before he turns away.

Silence follows, thick and heavy.

“Don’t worry,” Nami is the first to break the ice, lightly nudging you. “He was the same with me.”

Usopp snickers next to her, meeting your eye; “looks like you and Nami have got a boyfriend.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami just laughs quietly to herself. “Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s me we should be worried about.” Her eyes shift to Zoro, as does everyones, even Luffy who looks a bit lost, and finally, you turn to look at him too.

Your cheeks are still warm with embarrassment, mainly from Sanji’s flirting, but also the way Zoro had grabbed you. It wasn’t that you minded, because really, you didn’t, but—what the hell was that?

Meeting her gaze, arms crossed over his chest, Zoro huffs; “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Nami drawls, smirking.

“I never seen you so angry, Zoro,” Usopp teases, grinning ear to ear. “Jealous?” He sings the word, wiggling his brows at the swordsman as you sink into your seat further.

“Of a waiter?” Zoro scoffs, careful not to glance your way. “Of course not.”

You don’t fail to notice the fact that he hadn’t denied he’d been jealous because of you.

With a little bit more laughter, the conversation drifts off as Luffy starts to ramble about the food. Once the attention is thoroughly off you and Zoro, you turn to him.

“Are you okay?” You ask in a soft voice, concerned and perhaps wanting to know more about why he’d done what he had.

Finally turning to look at you, you watch as Zoro swallows thickly. “Fine,” he says gruffly and you flinch, frowning. Seeing your reaction, Zoro sighs. “Just didn’t like the way he touched you…”

He says it with a grumble, and if you hadn’t been right next to him, you wouldn’t have heard it.

Lips parting, you blink; “oh.”

“No guy should touch you like that.” He adds.

You turn to him but he’s already looked away, clearly done with the conversation.

You can’t help but think to yourself, however, that he’d touched you like that.

And that you liked it.

“So… how long do you think the owner will make Luffy work for him?”

You glance up at your friends at your own question, curious. Instead of mirrored curiosity staring back at you, you find blank faces instead.

Frowning, you huff. “Is no one concerned?” You ask, genuinely worried. “We all ate that food… and he’s the one working for it.”

“I didn’t eat,” Zoro shrugs, “I just drank some beer.”

You glower at him.

Turning to Usopp, you hope maybe he’ll say something. Of course, he doesn’t and instead, he continues to slurp up the fancy fruity cock-tail drink he’d ordered, promptly avoiding your eye. You already know that Nami won’t be any help since she seemed rather hurt by Luffy lying about his grandpa, and while you couldn’t fault her for being hurt, you were frustrated at all of their lack of concerns.

Sighing, you push yourself to a stand, taking a step forward. Zoro catches you by the wrist before you make it two full steps.

“Where are you going?”

You glance down at him. “To find Luffy,” you gesture forward, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. Which it should’ve. “I don’t feel like drinking or…” You let your eyes drag across the bustling crowd of the bar. “...dancing. Maybe I can talk the owner into going easy on him.”

You go to do that, except, Zoro still doesn’t let go of your wrist.

“We should probably stick together,” Zoro says, never taking his eyes off of you. “In case the Marines come.”

You shake your head, pulling at his grip. He lets go easy, but the frown on his face makes it clear he’s annoyed by your persistence. “I’ll be fine,” you brush off his concern. “The worst thing I’ll be doing is washing some dishes, I reckon.”

Zoro looks like he wants to argue, but it’s clear he isn’t sure how.

You just sigh; “stay and relax. I’ll be fine.”

And then you turn before he can say anything else.

Shifting your way past the crowd of the bar, you make your way back down the steps that lead out into the outdoor bar. It isn’t hard to get back into the restaurant, but you’re careful not to catch the attention of any of the chefs or staff. Instead, you carefully slink your way towards the employee section.

At the sight of a chef with blue hair coming towards you, you’re quick to duck behind a wall. You hesitate, hovering, trying to listen for his footsteps to grow distant. Except, your ears pick up on something else.

Luffy.

Turning in the direction of the noise, your gaze falls on the hallway in front of you, seeing a door at the far end. With one more glance behind you to make sure no one was there, you make your way down the hall, eyes brightening when you see the word ‘KITCHEN’ labelled at the top of the door. A glance through the small circular windows only confirms your suspicions, lips curling into a smile at the sight of Luffy.

You also make note of the waiter from before standing in front of him and… it looked like the two were talking to a man you didn’t recognize. Sanji is ushering the man out the back entrance of the kitchen, and you use that as your chance to sneak in.

Pushing open the door, you pop your head in.

“Luffy?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, face brightening at the sight of you.

“Y/N!”

You wince when he all but yells your name, confident you were definitely not supposed to be back here. With one last glance back, you slip inside, letting the doors swing shut behind you as you make your way over to your captain.

“What’re you doing here?” He grins, confused. “I thought you and the rest went up to the bar.”

“We did… but I left.” You explain, frowning slightly. Setting your hand on his arm, you glance up at him. “It was a little awkward, Luffy. Nami’s pretty upset about the grandpa thing.”

Luffy’s face wavers at that, the same way you noticed it had during dinner when Nami had brought it back up then. Frowning at the sight, you squeeze his arm reassuringly.

“But mainly I came because I was worried,” you smile. “I didn’t know how hard that owner guy was working you.”

Luffy instantly eases at that, and his lips curve into a genuine smile.

“I’m okay. He just has me doing dishes,” he juts his thumb behind him, and you eye the stack of dishes with a grimace. “Though, I think I found—”

“Y/N?”

Startled at the new voice, you glance over Luffy’s shoulder to see the waiter back from wherever he’d escorted that man you’d seen before. He seems baffled at the sight of you, while you freeze at the sight of him, worried he’ll be mad you snuck in.

“Hello, S-Sanji,” you greet, offering a small wave. “I know I’m not supposed to be here but I was worried about Luffy—”

“I’m not mad you’re here, love,” Sanji grins easily, making his way over to you and Luffy with a shake of his head. “I just hoped you were having fun upstairs in the bar.”

Still not used to his charm, you flush. “Oh, well…” Eye trailing, you turn to Luffy. “I was actually going to ask Luffy if he needed help with—”

“Absolutely not,” Sanji cuts you off for the third time, leaving your lips parted in bafflement. He’s crossing the distance in the kitchen over to you two in two seconds, and before you can even realize it, his hands are on your shoulders, gently turning you towards the door to the kitchen. The one you’d just come from. “A lady like yourself should not be getting her hands dirty at all.”

“B-But…” Words trailing in your bafflement, you glance back at Luffy who grins back at you, unbothered.

“The chore boy will be fine.”

“I should really…” You reach weakly towards Luffy who just raises his hand in an eager wave, completely unbothered by Sanji who is all but shoving you out of the kitchen.

Before you realize, the two of you are back out in the restaurant and Sanji, still with his hands on your shoulders, is easily maneuvering you up the stairs and out of the restaurant completely. In fact, he doesn’t stop until he’s outside the restaurant, far away from anyone.

When he lets go of you, you turn to him, nonplussed.

He grins down at you, sincere and wide.

“Do you always drag girls you just meet to secluded areas to get them alone?”

He seems momentarily stunned by your words, as if not even realizing where he’d lead you, before his face eases and he leans back against the wall of the restaurant. You watch as he reaches into the pocket of his dress pants, pulling out a pack of smokes. “Not usually, but I thought this was the perfect opportunity to get to know each other. Like I’d offered before.” He sends you a wink that has your cheeks warming, eye watching as he places a cigarette between his teeth, lighting it.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you curl a brow at him, ignoring your flush. “Very… forward of you.”

He just grins, taking a puff of his smoke. “You don’t seem to mind it.”

“Only because Luffy didn’t seem bothered by you leading me away like that,” you shrug, moving to lean against the wall next to him. “Anyone Luffy trusts, I do too.”

Sanji raises a brow. “You sure have faith in him.”

“He saved my life,” you explain, thinking back to that moment he’d offered you to join his crew. Even before that, in that pub… you had no idea then how much Luffy and the rest would change your mind. “They all have.”

Sanji’s smile turns more soft at that, and he turns his gaze up to the sky. “That’s sweet.” You turn to look at him, and sure enough, a moment later, he’s adding with a smirk; “just like you.”

You scoff. “It seems you can’t control yourself.”

“Not when I’m around you,” he laughs, taking another puff of his smoke.

“Sure,” you drawl, snorting.

A second of silence passes, before Sanji speaks up again. “So, what’s going on between you and that moss head?”

Almost instantly, the light flush you’d had before burns into something more intense, as you jump, facing Sanji as you wildly shake your hands in front of you. “No-Nothing!” You squeak, unable to control the pitch of your voice.

Sanji eyes you for a moment, then, he chuckles; “sure.” He drawls, matching your previous tone.

“Seriously,” you argue, trying to calm your voice to sound more sure. “There’s nothing going on between me and Zoro.”

“Beautiful, anyone who gets jealous like that over a little flirting doesn’t think there’s nothing going on.” Sanji shakes his head, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Or, he hasn’t man-upped enough to tell you the truth.”

You’re positive you’re on fire with how hot you are in embarrassment.

“Zoro does not like me.”

“Okay,” he pauses, “but do you like him?”

Lips left parted, you blink up at Sanji.

“I-I… It’s none of your business.”

Humming, Sanji takes another puff. “Seems like you want to get it off your chest, love.”

You pout. “You’re annoying.”

He leans towards you, smirking; “I’m right, beautiful.”

Shoulders falling, you kick your leg out at a random pebble. “Fine,” you huff, glancing at your feet. “Maybe I like him… a little bit!”

You don’t see the way Sanji’s face softens down at you, and you almost think something’s wrong when he doesn’t say anything. But when you glance back up at him, he’s turned his gaze back up. “Shame,” he sighs, almost soulful. “You truly are enchanting.”

Eyes widening, you bite your lip. “Shut up.”

“It’s true,” he pushes, looking unbothered by your embarrassment. “You deserve far more than that moss head.”

“You don’t even know Zoro.”

He shrugs. “I can tell.”

“I—”

Whatever you’d been about to say falls silent on the tip of your tongue when you see a familiar Straw Hat run by in front of you. Stepping back Sanji, you glance past his shoulder, you watch as Luffy and Usopp run towards the Going Merry.

“Where’s Y/N?” You hear Luffy yell distantly.

“I thought she was with you!” Usopp calls back.

You frown.

“Something wrong?” Sanji asks, hand falling on your shoulder and your gaze turns up, realizing he’d seen the same thing.

“I don’t know…” You breathe, concerned. Stepping back from Sanji, you turn to him apologetically, lips parting to explain.

“Don’t worry about it, love,” he brushes your apology off. “You should go make sure everything’s okay.”

Face easing at his words, you smile; “thank you, Sanji.”

Cigarette in his lips, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. You send him a genuine smile and a wave, before turning around to run off in the direction Usopp and Luffy had gone.

You’re quick to pick up the pace in your step, reaching the Going Merry in now time. You can hear the distinct voice of Nami and heart racing at how upset she sounds, you’re making your way down the stairs and towards them in seconds flat.

“But you are not better than him!”

Coming to a stop right at the bottom of the stairs, everyone’s eyes fall on you.

Nami instantly turns on you; “there you are!” Reaching you, she tugs you forward, and as she does, you see Usopp glance at you helplessly and Luffy softly smiling which gives you very mixed signals.

Finally, you turn to Zoro, who is… getting his swords ready?

“What’s going on?” You ask, helpless.

Nami huffs next to you. “Will you talk some sense to him?”

Lips parting, you shake your head at Nami. “Sure… but for what?”

“He’s challenged Dracule Mihawk, one of the Seven Warlords, to a duel.”

It’s like you can hear your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach. Nami, who is too busy turning back to Zoro in frustration, doesn’t notice the way your eye shifts, something distant flooding in. Usopp and Luffy don’t see it either.

But Zoro, who’d chanced a glance up at you, nervous for your reaction, sees it. His face falls briefly, everything else fading as he watches you closely.

“Y/N,” Nami presses, voice pitching in distress. “Tell him how reckless he's being.”

Still stunned, your mind a reckless bout of realization and terror, your gaze finally shifts towards Zoro. He quickly turns away and the sight makes dread flood you. “Z-Zoro,” you breathe, feeling as if your voice sounds like an outside extension of yourself.

Distantly, you realize that you’re not helping Nami and most of all, acting suspiciously. Swallowing thickly, you lean forward on the table. “You cannot fight… h-him… fight Mihawk.”

“Yeah,” Nami nods. She looks relieved you agree with her and you figure, even in the midst of your racing mind, the boys hadn’t been much help. With a frown and a huff, she throws her hand in Zoro’s direction; “he wants to go through with it! Even though it’ll get him killed.”

Zoro turns to her, still avoiding your gaze, and asks bluntly; “why do you give a shit?”

Nami visibly blanches, head jerking back in hurt. Her lips part, twisting to say something, and then, blinking back the betrayal in her eyes, she breathes out; “because you’re my friend, you idiot.”

“You said it yourself. You don’t have any friends.”

You see it in her eyes. His words are harsh and even though you’re still reeling from the realization of what was happening and clearly having walked into the middle of something, you see as the walls she’d slowly let fall around you all come back up. Brick by brick.

She glances around the room, meeting your eye last and then, she leaves without another word.

All of you, except for Zoro, watch her leave.

No one says anything, and then, Usopp is following Nami out, meeting your eye with a nervous panic before slipping out. Luffy follows him a second later, patting your shoulder.

You stay standing there, as if glued to the spot. You can’t bring it in you to chase after Nami even if you were concerned, but you also can’t find the words to say something to Zoro. You want to tell him off for being cruel to Nami like that, you want to tell him he was being an idiot that was going to get himself killed and you want to tell him…—

It takes Zoro a minute to speak up. “Not going to try and convince me like Nami?”

Swallowing thickly, the lump in your throat remains despite. With your hands hanging helplessly at your sides, you try to blink back the tears that well in your eyes. It was all too much at once. Your heart was aching with this anchor that had been thrown at you and it was too much to bear.

Still, deep in your heart, you know; “it wouldn’t stop you,” you whisper, voice cracking at the end.

You could beg and plead, get on your hands and knees, and you know nothing could stop Zoro from doing this. The only thing that might… you weren’t sure if you were ready to admit.

Zoro pauses, hands hovering. Then, he agrees; “probably not.”

Your breath hitches. “You could die.”

He turns to look at you. You don’t meet his eyes.

“He’s my goal.”

Fists clenching, you shake your head. “Zoro, please listen,” you cry, “you cannot fight Mihawk. He’s… He’s…”

But you can’t form the words.

“He’s what?” Zoro pushes, leaning towards you. “Say it, Y/N. I saw your face when Nami told you. Mihawk is what?”

You flinch, stepping back. You can’t look at him even as the guilt and panic tears you apart inside. You couldn’t.

Your mind races for something, something else, and then you remember your conversation with Sanji before. You remember your feelings. “W-What about me?”

“What about you?” Zoro’s tone is even, careful, but his blunt question hurts all the same.

Finally, you look up at him. His eyes are already on you, face flat and expressionless.

You come to terms then it’s pointless. Zoro wasn’t going to cancel the duel and nothing you were willing to say would change his mind. Anything more, and you’d just get yourself hurt. You think once again, in that moment, back to your conversation with Sanji.

You’d known of your feelings all along, just hadn’t been able to realize it. But you’d finally let yourself admit how you felt about Zoro. Finally let the truth out and the relief you’d felt in that moment, to a man you’d only met that day no less, had been imminent.

You’d gotten ahead of yourself then. Forgot that you were the only one who believed in Luffy’s wish to be a crew. Forgot that all the people you’d met had their own goals and you were someone just drifting alongside with them until it came time for them to leave.

You forgot that your life wasn’t just being a part of Luffy's crew.

You forgot that even if Zoro felt anything of what you felt for him, you were still just some girl he’d rescued from a pirate and nothing more than that. Zoro had his own goals and dreams, and you weren’t part of them.

What about you?

Answer made clear, you turn and walk without another word.

Zoro doesn’t see the way tears fall from your face the second you’re out of sight and you don’t see the way his leg kicks out in frustration at himself for being so stupid.

It was clear Mihawk didn’t know who you were, despite being your father.

You couldn’t blame him, though. He’d never met you. He didn’t even know that the random woman he met that one day eighteen years ago and spent the night with, had ever gotten pregnant. It wasn’t like Dracule Mihawk to stick around places for long, after all.

And the only reason you even knew he was your father was because your mother had told you the day she died. In her deathbed, with your hand clutching hers, she’d whispered his name and told you if you ever needed help, to go to him.

Something told you he wouldn’t be helping you here.

You watch him best Zoro in every single one of his attacks. He dodges his attacks without even having to lift a finger. It’s a fight unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, and the reality of watching Zoro unable to land any attacks is cruel and unforgiving.

Everything about this is cruel.

With your heart racing and your palms sweaty, you visibly flinch when Mihawk stabs Zoro with the tiny sword he told Zoro was the best match for their duel. It hits him directly in the chest, and you watch the flicker of pain in Zoro’s eyes as he stares his goal down.

And as you listen to Zoro refuse to give up, you can feel your heart tear into two.

Mihawk brings out Yoru. You watch as he unsheathes it from his back, heart plummeting. And you watch as Zoro places the Wado Ichimonji in his mouth, bringing the two black-handle katanas into either of his hands. This is it, you realize. This is the final attack.

After watching Zoro be unable to land one hit, you know this final one won’t be different.

There’s a moment of stilled silence, no one moves. And then, Zoro is running forward and Mihawk watches his pace. They clash, the sound of metal hitting metal reverberates in your mind, rattling your insides.

Zoro slides on his knees across the deck in front of Baratie, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He’s breathless, silent, and you feel your friends around you as you all watch with bated breath.

The two black-handle swords shatter into pieces.

The sob that wretches from your throat is beyond your control. It rips out of you, body shuddering in the reality you’re forced to face, watching as Zoro stands to his feet and turns to face Mihawk.

“You’re defeated,” Mihawk shakes his head. “Why do you persist?”

Sheathing the Wado Ichimonji, Zoro says without hesitation; “wounds on the back are a swordsman’s greatest shame.” Raising his arms in defeat, he holds them to his sides, waiting for Mihawk to make his final move.

“Magnificent.”

Tears welling in your eyes, you feel a hand slip into your own.

Glancing down first and then following the arm, you find Nami’s similarly tearful eyes staring back at you, squeezing your hand. You don’t know if it’s to comfort you or herself, but you appreciate it nonetheless. You turn to your other friends, seeing that Nami is holding Usopp’s hand too and he’s looking at you with concern. The final person you turn to is Luffy.

He meets your eye, and your whole body trembles.

You turn your head back in Zoro’s direction, and the second Mihawk’s arm swings to attack Zoro, you turn away again.

Your head tucks into Nami who startles at your movement, but her hand slips from your own to wrap her arm around you. You can’t see, but you hear the slice of skin and the sound of Zoro’s body hit the ground a minute later. You feel Nami’s body jerk in response.

“Zoro!”

Hugging your knees to your chest, you stare at Zoro. You let your eye drag across his sleeping figure, every curve of his face, the dip of his nose, all the way down to his chest, where his wound is tightly bandaged.

It was thanks to Sanji and the Baratie owner, Zeff, that Zoro’s wounds had been cleaned, stitched and dressed. It was thanks to them that Zoro even had a chance of surviving.

Talk to him. That’s what Zeff had said. The only thing any of you could do for Zoro now was talk to him and hope that that was enough to pull him from the purgatory between life and death.

You’d offered the first watch and no one had argued. Everyone was worried about Zoro in their own way, but the tears streaming down your cheeks and the visible mess you were in left no one willing to argue with you. One by one, everyone had left the room, with Luffy only glancing back at you one last time, before it was just you and Zoro.

You hadn’t moved from the spot since then.

That had been hours ago. Nami had come in at one point and asked if she could read to Zoro. you’d nodded without a word, sitting back but never leaving the room. Nami didn’t say anything and even if she had, you would’ve refused to leave. Luffy had followed her in shortly after and that had turned sour quickly when it was apparent that Nami felt Luffy held some responsibility for not telling Zoro to back out of the duel. You watched them argue, not saying a word. Then, Nami left.

“You should eat,” Luffy had said a minute after she walked out the door.

Never taking your eye off Zoro, you’d shaken your head. “I will when he wakes up.”

“Y/N, you—”

“When he wakes up.” The words had come out sharper than you intended and instantly, you’d felt guilt when you’d seen Luffy jerk at the sound. But you didn’t get up nor did you say anything else, and a minute later, Luffy left too.

That had been an hour ago. No one else had come in since.

You’d moved back to the chair next to Zoro, and let your hand slip into his and you hadn’t moved since.

Talk to him. How were you supposed to talk to him? What could you possibly say to him after everything that happened?

Head falling, you let out a shaky sigh.

“This is all my fault,” you whisper, barely even registering you’d said the words aloud. And as you breathe the words into existion, you realize that that was the only thing you could say.

Raising your head, you glance at Zoro’s face.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, squeezing his hand. “I should’ve… I should’ve told you the truth.”

Your chest feels tight, your body heavy. You know what you want to say, but you don’t know if you have the courage to speak the words. Mihawk was your father, it was true, but he meant nothing to you. That isn’t what made it hard to say. Not even seeing him in person for the first time today could make the feeling of indifference toward him fade. Mihawk didn’t even know who you were and he never would.

Today would’ve been your chance to tell him and it hadn’t even crossed your mind.

What you found hard to admit was that you’d been too scared to tell Zoro the truth and that cowardness is what got him hurt. If you had just been honest with him, maybe none of this wouldn’t have happened. Zoro wouldn’t have gotten hurt and nobody on the crew would be upset.

Why couldn’t you have just been honest?

“I was scared,” you tell Zoro. “Scared because there’s so much about my life I don’t know and the only thing I do know is so unimportant.” Breathing in sharply, you force the words out. “So what if Mihawk is my father? It hadn’t mattered before. But it mattered last night and I should’ve told you… If I told you, you wouldn’t be hurt and the crew wouldn’t have to be worried about you not waking up.”

Pressing your free hand to your forehead, you shake your head. “I’m so sorry, Zoro,” you sob, feeling your eyes water as curl into yourself. “I’m so sorry because you’re hurt and because I think I may love you… and my life is so utterly unimportant that you deserve better than someone like me… Someone who will just ruin your life.”

Your hand leaves his, pressing against your lips as you let yourself cry. You let yourself cry out the anguish in your chest that weighs you down and hurts. You cry and cry, stifling your sobs behind your hand, letting it all out.

Until, eventually, you fall asleep from the exhaustion.

The exhaustion of not sleeping the night before, of being tense and terrified for Zoro, for the guilt that feels like it might eat you alive.

You stay like that for a while, until soft hands gently shake you awake.

“Come on, love. Wake up.”

Letting out a soft groan, your eyes flutter at the voice, hands moving instinctively to rub at your eyes. It takes you a second to wake yourself up, confused as you slowly straighten out. You first see Zoro before your head turns, and your eye falls on Sanji who’s standing behind you.

“Sanji?”

“You need to eat,” Sanji says, ushering you. “Come on.”

You turn back to Zoro, licking your dry lips. “I shouldn’t leave him.”

Your eyes are puffy and your eyelids ache. The last thing you remember is crying, and it occurs to you you’d fallen asleep in the midst of your break down.

“Luffy can watch him,” Sanji offers, gesturing behind him.

Turning towards the door, Luffy smiles at you warmly.

“I’ll watch Zoro for you, Y/N. I promise I’ll take good care of him.”

Dazed and still a little sleepy, you let Sanji pull you to your feet, not fighting his grip as he guides you towards the door. You glance back at Zoro one last time, feeling that crushing guilt stab at you, just as Luffy squeezes your shoulder.

“He’ll wake up, Y/N,” Luffy grins at you. “I promise.”

You nod at him, finding his words reassuring and comforting despite the doubt festering inside you.

“I’ll whip you up something tasty, Y/N.” Sanji smiles softly down at you, “okay?”

He’s incredibly gentle the entire time. You relish in it.

“Can I have a moment alone with him?”

Meeting Nami’s eyes, you nod, moving to stand. She sends you a smile, though it seems off, as you walk past her.

Letting the door fall shut behind you, you make your way into the kitchen. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the nerves rattling your body. After Nami had come running into the kitchen where you and Sanji were, you eating after he’d made you a meal like he promised, it was instantly clear something was wrong. She had been going on about some pirate named Arlong, calling for Luffy in between explaining to you. Most importantly, she looked terrified.

Turns out Arlong was attacking Baratie looking for Luffy and the Grand Line map.

Nami’s attempt at getting Luffy to take the Going Merry and run had been fruitless and he, Sanji and Usopp had gone to confront Arlong. Luffy had told Nami to stay behind to protect the map, before turning to you and telling you to watch over Zoro for him. When you’d tried to argue and say you could help, he’d just shaken his head and said you were still healing from your last fight and Zoro was more important.

So, for the last twenty or so minutes, you and Nami were in the Going Merry. She’d disappeared elsewhere on the ship the second the three left, so you assigned yourself back next to Zoro, opting to read to him like Nami had before in the hopes that maybe that’d get him to wake up.

You had, at least, until Nami had popped her head into the room.

You hoped everything was going well. Honestly, you did want to go out and check on them, but you knew Luffy was right. Even if he hadn’t said it in that way, it was clear he didn’t want you coming because you didn’t know how to fight. You’d be more of a hindrance than any help and that reality left a sour taste in your mouth.

Hearing footsteps approach, you turn, face easing when you see Nami coming out of the room.

“Everything okay?” You ask, despite knowing in fact nothing was okay.

She nods, stepping out of the room and you smile at her as you walk past her, squeezing her shoulder in an attempt to comfort both her and yourself. You think nothing of the look on her face, chalking it up to everything that had and is happening just making her a little off.

At least, until you hear the door slam shut behind you.

Stilling right next to Zoro, your head snaps towards the door. You hesitate for a moment, baffled, before your feet instinctively carry you towards it, hand falling on the knob. Maybe she’d shut it by accident? Or maybe she wanted to give you privacy as you had for her?

Except, the door won’t open when you turn it.

“N-Nami?”

You know she’s by the door. You can see her shadow through the small opening at the bottom. You can hear her heavy breathing.

“Nami,” you call again, voice louder. “Why is the door locked?”

There’s a moment that passes before she answers.

“Sorry, Y/N. I can’t let you out.”

“What?” You breathe, bewildered. There’s something awful twisting in your chest. You try the door again, it doesn’t open. “Nami, what the hell is going on? What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I always planned to do.”

Her voice is muffled through the door, but the low tone scares you all the same.

Using your left hand, you slam it against the door. “Let me out, Nami. Now.”

“You’ll be safe in there.”

You hear her take a step toward and your heart lurches, yanking on the door as you start to pound against it more aggressively. “Nami?”

“I’m sorry.”

You see her shadow disappear and soon, her footsteps are gone too. You stand there, stunned, before you start to yank on the door again. You pull at it, trying to twist it. But it’s clearly jammed shut.

Nami had made sure you weren’t going to be able to get out.

Minutes pass of you banging on the door, with no luck, until eventually you tire yourself out.

Head hanging in your hands, you try to ignore the shake of your body as you sit there, forced to wait.

At the first sound of footsteps, you jump to your feet.

“Hey!” You call, banging on the door. “Luffy? Usopp?”

“Y/N?”

It’s Usopp.

Yanking on the door, you call out to him; “let me out!”

It takes him no more than a few seconds to open the door, yanking it open as you meet his eyes with relief.

“Usopp,” you breathe, “you have to listen to me. It’s Nami. She—”

You move to ramble out what had happened, but fall silent the second you see the look on Usopp’s face.

“Usopp?” You question, voice quiet. “Why are you…?”

Just then Sanji comes stumbling down the stairs of the kitchen, with Luffy in his arms, the latter looking beat up and hurt. Both of them are sopping wet.

Your eyes widen.

“Nami, she…” Usopp speaks up, looking nervous. “She betrayed us.”

“Y/N, seriously!”

Shaking your head, you stumble behind Usopp. “Seriously what, Usopp?”

You’re mildly annoyed, but you figure he has a good reason—whatever that reason is. He hasn’t elected to tell you yet.

You’d been getting some sleep after Luffy had practically forced you to, letting you sleep in his and the rest of the guys’ cabin since Zoro was currently occupying yours and… Nami’s. After everything that has happened, it was clear you all needed some time to digest and recoup. Even though you’d been reluctant to leave Zoro’s side, you also knew you needed some sleep or you were going to make yourself sick.

And a twenty minute sob-induced cat nap hunched over a bed didn’t count.

Only, your sleep had been cut short but Usopp all but ran into your room, yelling your name with a wide grin on his face. You couldn’t even possibly begin to think what he could be smiling about given that everything was the worst it could be, but you didn’t get the chance to ask either before he was yanking you to your feet and dragging you with him.

“Usopp—”

Whatever you’d been about to say falls silent, however, when you realize where Usopp is leading you. Body freezing, you turn to him, him already grinning at you, letting the two of you come to a stop. You glance at him, then the room, and then realize you hear a very familiar voice speaking.

Your feet move before you can stop yourself.

All chatter stops the second you come running into the room, and sure enough, still on the bed, Zoro stares back at you, but awake.

“Y/N, look, Zoro’s—!”

You don’t let Luffy finish. You don’t even really hear him speak. You run over to the other side of the bed in seconds and practically fall onto Zoro. In your excitement, you forget about his wounds, to which Zoro groans in response to your hug. Your eyes widen, your first word to him about to be ‘sorry’, as you scramble to pull back.

His arm falls around your waist before you can.

Stilling in his hold, and now careful to not let your weight fall on him, he holds you for a moment, the entire room distinctly quiet.

Then, his arm leaves and you pull back, staring down at him.

“Hey,” you breathe, unable to stop the curl of your lips. Despite everything, that short greeting is what feels right.

It’s all you can manage.

His lips curve into a soft smile; “hey.”

Raising your hand, you softly knock on the door.

Zoro’s head snaps towards you, easing when he realizes it’s you.

You step into the room with a gentle smile, and nod at him; “let me.” You offer, gesturing loosely to the bandages surrounding him. “I got pretty good at it after…” You let your voice trail, and Zoro huffs.

“I’d bet. You never let anyone help you.”

Sitting next to him, you shrug. “I could do it on my own.” Laughing quietly, you pick up the bandages that are wildly thrown about the bed. “Unlike you.”

Zoro scoffs but he doesn’t stop you as you start to unwrap the bandages he’d loosely wrapped around himself, redoing it.

Silence echoes for a moment, before Zoro speaks up.

“I can’t believe the waiter is joining us.”

Huffing a laugh, you roll your eye. “Sanji is nice,” you defend. “And a good fighter I hear from Luffy.”

Zoro frowns. “He’s a waiter.”

You just shake your head, snorting to yourself.

Then, you hesitate, hands hovering. You can't help but ask, since it’s been weighing on you since she’d left. “You think Nami meant it all? That she never actually cared about us?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugs. “Maybe.”

Biting your lip, you frown. You don’t want that to be the truth.

“Y/N.”

His voice is serious as he calls for you, and it makes you freeze.

“I heard you.”

Your muscles tense, and you refuse to let your gaze wander from your hands, fiddling with your fingers.

Zoro doesn’t let you. In the next second, his hand is falling over your own, pulling them away from what you’d been doing. Your lips part as he does, heart fluttering as he shifts his hand so his fingers threads through yours instead of just being wrapped around your wrist.

Your cheeks warm instantly.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

His voice is raspy from being asleep for so long. It sends shivers down your spine.

Still, you listen, raising your head and meeting his eyes.

“I didn’t think you could hear me,” you whisper.

“I could,” he nods. “About your father and…” His voice trails.

Swallowing thickly, you choose to focus on the first thing first. “I… Does it bother you?”

Zoro’s lips part, stunned at your forwardness and you realize your mistake.

“About… Mihawk.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “No.”

It’s not what you’re expecting. He says it so bluntly, so sure of himself.

“It… doesn’t?”

“You have your reasons,” he shrugs, still holding your hand. “And it wouldn’t have changed my mind. Defeating Mihawk is my goal, that won’t change.”

His words hurt you, but you also know that you have no right to argue otherwise.

“I’m still sorry you got hurt.”

Zoro shakes his head. “It wasn’t your fault.” Then, when you don’t respond, he squeezes your hand. “It wasn’t.”

His voice is sharp and leaves no room for argument.

You nod. “Thank you,” you say, “I’m… so relieved you’re okay.”

Zoro breathes in sharply, and then he lowers his hand, taking yours with him.

There’s a beat of silence, then; “I think I love you too.”

It seems that Zoro is just full of surprises at that moment.

Body turning rigid, you blink at him.

His cheeks have a light flush and he’s now the one turned away. “I… You were wrong… I don’t deserve someone better than you. I… I want you.”

“Zoro…”

He turns back to you, quickly, as if the words are both hard to speak but leaving him before he can stop himself. “But I… I don’t know how to be… I don't know how to be with you,” he explains, the words awkward and forced. You can tell he’s trying, words stumbling off the tip of his tongue. “I’ve only had one friend in my life and she’s dead. Before you guys, I had no one. I don’t know how to be someone you can depend on.”

You let his words sink in and you take in the look on his face. He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but he’s waiting for you to respond, patiently. You realize he’s leaving the decision up to you.

You think of, once again, your conversation with Sanji. You think of how you felt when Zoro had been unconscious in that bed. You think of everything that’s happened.

“I…” You start, voice soft. “I don’t know how to either,” you explain, shoulders dropping with the weight of your confession. “I’ve been alone for so long too, Zoro. And at first I wasn’t going to say anything. I didn’t understand my feelings so I was just going to ignore them. But then… seeing you fight like that and get hurt… waiting for you to wake up… I know that it can happen again. To either of us. I know that neither of us will ever be completely safe. I know you will never give up on your goal.”

Zoro frowns, and there’s a flicker of disappointment in his gaze.

It’s you who squeezes his hand this time, pulling his attention back on you.

“But I don’t want to do any of that without you,” you finish. “I… want to do this all with you. I want to save Nami with you. I want to explore the Grand Line with you. I want to help you complete your goal. Not just as your friend but more.”

The second you finish, breathless, Zoro is pulling you towards him. His actions speak louder than words and it seems his instincts allow him to act without any fluster of embarrassment. It pulls a gasp from your lips but you don’t stop him, hands falling on his shoulders as you lean into his touch. You’re careful of his wounds as he tugs you into his lap, his hands settling on your hips as his forehead falls against yours, breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” he inhales sharply, before shuddering a breath. “Can I kiss you?”

You smile at his response, thinking it’s so very Zoro, and nod. “Please.”

His lips are on yours instantly, pulling you close to him as you cup his cheeks, letting your hands thread through his hair. Your stomach flutters at the kiss, feeling your insides turn to jelly at the sensation. His hands on your skin feel like fire in the best way possible, molding your lips against his as he tugs you closer and closer even when there’s nowhere else for you to go.

You let your nails drag across his scalp, his lips warm and soft against your own.

And then, just as your lips part to allow his tongue to slip inside, a voice calls out;

“Zoro!”

You both pull back, startled. Zoro groans softly as he twists his body wrong, agitating his wound while your head snaps round to see Luffy.

He pauses, hovering at the door, at the sight of you two, you on Zoro’s lap with the both of you looking thoroughly flushed.

Luffy looks confused.

“Luffy,” Zoro huffs, pressing his hand to his forehead, one still gripping your hip, as you laugh quietly to yourself. “Leave.”

Oblivious as always, Luffy just nods; “sure thing, Zoro.”

You’re positive you’ll be getting an earful from Usopp later.

His footsteps fade and you turn back to Zoro, giggling.

“He never knocks,” Zoro groans, pulling at his hair.

You pull his hand away, moving instead to hold it. Zoro flushes at the action.

“That’s okay,” you shrug. “I imagine it’ll be like that a lot.”

Zoro only groans further at the thought, but he knows you’re right.

You move to stand, slipping off his lap and panicking when you realize you didn’t finish bandaging him properly. Zoro laughs as you fuss over him, moving when you tell him to and watching you with amused eyes.

Just as you sit down next to him, though, he whispers out;

“Together, then.”

You blink at his words, cheeks still a light flush, before you remember your earlier words.

You smile; “together.”

End of Chapter Note: I know that I’ve made the reader Mihawk’s daughter who is canonically light-skinned. I have left the readers mother open to try and be as ambiguous and inclusive as possible. Apologies to anyone that finds this detail stops them from being able to “insert” themselves into the story.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece live action #one piece zoro #opla #opla x reader #opla x you #opla zoro #zoro roronoa #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa imagine #zoro x reader #zoro #opla zoro x reader

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satellite-evans · 2 days ago

Text

happiness

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You know there will be happiness after Lando, but there was happiness because of him—and unfortunately, both can be true.

Word count: 2.5k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song.

A/N:

Another fic for my folkmore series, this time it is with Lando Norris!! This is my first time writing for him so please be kind xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

You hadn’t realized how silent the world could be until now.

It’s deafening.

The walls of the apartment you once shared with Lando seem to hum with the ghosts of laughter, the echoes of whispered secrets exchanged in the dead of night. You can almost hear the soft murmur of his voice as he pulled you closer beneath the covers, the way he used to trace absent-minded patterns on your skin, like he was memorizing you without even realizing it. But now, there’s nothing—just the hollow hush of an empty space that no longer feels like home.

You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the imprint of where he used to sleep. It’s untouched, as if preserving it might somehow preserve him, as if keeping it the same might bring him back. But the sheets have long since lost his warmth, the pillow no longer smells like him. Even his things—the ones he left behind in his rush to go—seem out of place now, abandoned remnants of a life that no longer belongs to you.

The spaces between furniture seem larger. The air feels heavier, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. You never thought silence could be so suffocating. But it is. It creeps into your bones, into your chest, wrapping around your ribs like something alive, something cruel. You try to fill it with music, with television, with anything that might make it hurt a little less, but nothing helps. The absence of him is too loud.

People tell you that time will heal, that this ache in your chest will dull, that one day you’ll wake up and the weight of missing him won’t press so violently against your lungs. That love is fleeting, that people come and go, that this is just another chapter in a long, winding story. But you don’t want another chapter. You don’t want a lesson in loss, or strength, or resilience.

You wanted him.

You wanted the Sunday mornings tangled in sheets, the quiet I love yous muttered half-asleep, the way he used to look at you like you were the only thing that made sense in a chaotic world. You wanted the late-night drives with the windows down, his laughter filling the car like a song you never wanted to end. You wanted forever, or at least longer than what you got.

But all you have now is silence. And it’s unbearable.

There is happiness past this, they say. But happiness was him.

You let out a slow, shuddering breath, standing now in the middle of the living room, yet another room that longed his presence, arms wrapped around yourself as if that will hold together the pieces of you breaking apart. But it doesn’t. Nothing does. The weight in your chest is unbearable, pressing, relentless—grief disguised as silence, as emptiness, as a void that no amount of air can fill.

Your eyes land on the coffee table, and your stomach twists.

There’s a framed photo sitting there—Hungary, last summer. Lando had just finished P2. His curls were damp from the champagne spray, clinging to his forehead, his smile wide and victorious. His eyes had been shining that day, filled with a kind of light that made your heart feel like it was soaring, like it had finally found a place to rest. And you… you were right there beside him, your arms looped around his waist, your forehead pressed to his temple, your own laughter caught mid-breath. The picture was full of golden light, golden joy, golden love.

And when you saw yourself in the picture, it felt like it was going to haunt you forever. Not because of how happy you looked, but because of the look in your eyes—the way they were fixed on him, full of a love so pure, so certain. The kind of love that would've loved him for a lifetime. And now, it feels like those eyes belong to someone you don’t recognize anymore. Someone who didn’t know that love—no matter how deep—wasn’t enough to hold onto him.

Your fingers tremble as you reach for the frame, lifting it with a kind of reverence that makes your chest ache. The glass is cool beneath your touch as you trace his face with the tip of your finger, following the curve of his smile, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes. You wonder if he ever looks at pictures of you, if his hands ever shake like this, if his heart ever clenches with the same unbearable longing.

Probably not.

The thought sends a sharp, gutting pain through you, and before you can stop yourself, you turn the frame over, setting it down face-first against the table. You can’t bear to look at it anymore. You can’t bear the way it taunts you with memories of a happiness that now feels like a dream, distant and unreachable.

The room feels colder. Lonelier.

And as you stand there, staring at the overturned frame, you realize that’s what grief really is—not just sadness, not just missing someone, but the cruelest kind of ghost. One that lingers in the spaces they left behind, haunting you with everything you had and everything you lost.

You wonder if he’s hurting, too.

Lando had never been one to talk about his emotions—not really. He was never the type to spill his heart out in words, never the type to say I’m upset or I need you. But he didn’t have to. He wore his emotions in the way his hands gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled with tension. In the frustrated tug of his curls after a bad quali, his jaw tight, his shoulders set like he was carrying the weight of the world. In the way he found you after every race—no matter the result, no matter the chaos—his eyes searching, desperate, needing.

You had been his safe place. The one who steadied him when the adrenaline wore off, when the cheers or the silence became too much. The one who knew, without him ever saying it, that he needed a hand on his back, a soft whisper in his ear, a grounding touch to remind him that no matter what, he was enough.

But now?

Now, you wonder who he searches for in the crowd when the helmet comes off, when the noise fades and all that’s left is the rawness of victory or the sting of defeat. You wonder whose arms he reaches for in the quiet moments, who steadies him now. You wonder if he even searches at all—if maybe, just maybe, he’s finally learned how to stand on his own.

Or worse—if he never really needed you to begin with.

You close your eyes and remember the night it ended.

The argument had started as something small. They always do. A careless comment, an exasperated sigh, a glance that lingered just a second too long in frustration. But small things grow, fester, rot from the inside out.

The words had sharpened, slicing at first only skin-deep—little wounds, little pricks of irritation—but then they sank deeper, burrowing into old wounds you both pretended had healed. Resentment poured out between you like an open wound neither of you had the strength to stitch shut.

"You never put me first," you had accused, your voice breaking even as you tried to sound strong. Because you had been holding it in for so long. The missed dinners, the canceled plans, the way you were always waiting—always second to the race, to the team, to the endless, relentless pursuit of something greater.

Lando’s eyes flashed, his jaw tightening, and you knew—knew before he even spoke—that this wasn’t going to end well. "You don’t understand," he shot back, voice raw, frustrated. "You never have. This isn’t just a job. This is my life. Milliseconds—milliseconds define everything. If I don’t give it everything, I lose. And if I lose, then what was it all for?"

And maybe that’s what hurt the most. That he spoke as if his life and your life were separate things. That he didn’t see how much you had already given, how much of yourself you had carved out just to make room for the enormity of his dream.

The argument spiraled, words thrown like weapons, each syllable heavier than the last. You screamed. He slammed his fist against the wall, knuckles white with anger, with frustration, with something you couldn’t name. The sound of it echoed through the apartment, through your ribs, through your heart. And then, just as suddenly as the fight had begun, the air went still.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his curls, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. Almost too quiet.

"I don’t think we make each other happy anymore."

The words knocked the breath from your lungs like a punch. Because wasn’t that the only thing that mattered? The happiness? The love? Wasn’t love supposed to be enough?

You stared at him, your hands trembling, your heartbeat a deafening roar in your ears. You should’ve fought harder. Should’ve told him that love isn’t just happiness—it’s choosing each other even when it’s hard, even when it hurts, even when everything in you is screaming to walk away. Love is not just in the good moments, the easy moments, the ones filled with champagne-soaked laughter and sunlit mornings tangled in bed. Love is in the trenches, in the storm, in the choice to stay.

But you didn’t say any of that.

You only nodded, the fight draining out of you, leaving behind nothing but the weight of your own grief. Tears slipped down your face, but you didn’t wipe them away. You didn’t beg, didn’t ask him to take it back. Maybe some part of you had already known this was coming. Maybe some part of you had been bracing for this moment for far too long.

So you stood there, silent, watching as he turned away, as he walked toward the door. And when it closed behind him, when the finality of it settled over you like a suffocating weight, you realized something.

The worst part of heartbreak isn’t the breaking. It’s the silence that follows.

Now, days—weeks—later, you wonder if he regrets it. If, in the quiet moments, when the adrenaline has faded and the noise of the world has died down, he feels the same aching hollowness that sits heavy in your chest. If he ever reaches for his phone, thumb hovering over your name, before remembering he no longer gets to call you home.

You wonder if it hits him in the in-between moments—the pause between breaths, the lull between races, the seconds before sleep takes over. If he feels it in the low hum of a car engine, in the familiar roads of Monaco, in the spaces where you once fit so seamlessly into his life. If he ever catches himself reaching for something that isn’t there anymore.

You think of the nights spent curled up on the sofa, his head resting on your lap, your fingers weaving through his curls like second nature. How he would hum contentedly at your touch, eyes slipping shut, safe in the warmth of you. You think of whispered promises between deep kisses, of late-night confessions spoken into the dark—"I love you," "We’ll figure it out," "I don’t ever want to lose this."

You think of the playful arguments over who would get up first to turn off the lights, both of you stubborn, both of you laughing, neither of you truly minding as long as it meant another few minutes wrapped up in each other. The way he would murmur your name when he was half-asleep, soft and warm and full of something that made you believe you’d always belong to each other.

And then you think of the night he told you that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. That he couldn’t imagine a life where you weren’t by his side.

And yet—now, here you are. Living in that unimaginable life.

And so is he.

You remember the way he looked at you after his first F1 podium—eyes wide with disbelief, joy radiating from every inch of him, his body vibrating with adrenaline. But it wasn’t until he saw you, until his arms wrapped tightly around you, that the victory seemed to settle in his bones. He had lifted you off the ground, spinning you in circles, laughing breathlessly into your neck like you were the real prize, like none of it truly meant anything until he got to share it with you. You remember the way his hands trembled, not from nerves, not from exhaustion, but from something deeper—something raw.

"We did it," he had whispered, forehead pressed to yours, like this was your win too. And in some way, it was. Because you had been there through all of it—the heartbreak, the close calls, the moments he almost gave up. You had been his anchor, his constant, the quiet force that reminded him he was more than just lap times and podiums.

You remember the way he used to brush his lips over your knuckles absentmindedly, fingers laced with yours even when there was no reason to hold on so tightly. It was as if he had to remind himself you were real, as if he was scared that if he let go, you might slip through his fingers. The way he would trace circles into your palm, lost in thought, the way his touch always carried a silent kind of reverence—like he couldn’t believe you had chosen him, like he couldn’t believe he had something so good.

You remember the way he had danced with you in the kitchen, barefoot, swaying lazily to a song neither of you really knew. His arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. He had hummed under his breath, slightly off-key, but you didn’t care. Because you were laughing, leaning into him, your fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt like you never wanted to let go. The kitchen had been filled with something weightless, something golden, something that made the rest of the world feel unimportant. And now—now that same space feels so lifeless.

Now, there’s only silence.

Maybe there is happiness waiting for you somewhere out there. Maybe there’s another love—one that won’t leave you questioning whether you are enough, one that won’t make you feel like you are constantly reaching for something just out of grasp. Maybe there’s someone who won’t leave you with your hands outstretched in the dark, grasping at empty space, begging for something that was never really yours to hold.

But right now, standing in the ruins of what was once so full, so bright, so achingly alive—you can’t imagine anything else.

Because the thing about happiness is that you only know you had it when it’s gone.

And, God, you had it with him. You had it.

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