#i thiinkk i like this... maybe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pileofmush · 6 months

Text

the sun still rises ☼ ii.

pairing ➸ monkey d. luffy x fem!reader

details ➸ tags: pt. ii, hurt/comfort, introspection // wc: 1.4k // series m.list

The sand burns.

Not literally, no. It’s not hot to the touch. It couldn’t be, after such a dreary maelstrom as last night’s. But it digs into your knees. It itches. Makes you want to peel off the top layer of your skin just to scratch the bone.

Your fingers curve around a useless excuse for a chest. You thought you had lost it in the wreckage of your cruddy little boat, only to find it had washed ashore. It’s a miracle, you suppose, but a pointless one. The iron lock you splurged on only a few days ago is unlatched: rusted and broken. None of your belongings remain inside except for a busted log pose. Nothing else—your berri, your tools, your clothing, your journals, your mother’s hairpin—all gone. And all you can think about are the fucking grains of sand pinching your skin.

It burns. Like the burning in your lungs, as you suffocate alone underneath the swell of the sea. It burns, it burns, it burns, it—

“Tuna.”

There’s a hand on your shoulder. It startles you. You turn; follow the length of the arm to find it attached to the body of Monkey D. Luffy. You don’t know when he approached you. You don’t know how long he’s sat there, watching you stare at your dumb piece of shit chest.

“What’re ya staring at it for? It’s empty.”

The accusation washes over you like a tidal wave. Threatens to pull you under.

You don’t know how to respond. How do you explain the quiet devastation this wooden box has put you through? You had your whole life in here at one point. Everything important to you, condensed neatly in one mid-sized treasure chest. And now it’s empty. Now, you have nothing.

“My name’s not Tuna,” you say. Because it’s not—it never was.

The boy retrieves his hand to rest it atop his straw hat, draping a shadow over his face. “You sure?” The boy questions. Something flickers in his eyes that you can’t quite discern through the veil of darkness. It almost… burns. Like the sand. “What is it, then?”

“Yuna,” you reply. Because it is—always has been.

Luffy tilts his head, as if scrutinizing you. He digs a finger in his ear, pulls it out, and scrutinizes that, too. “You didn’t answer my other question. Answer it.”

He’s a little rude, you think to yourself. Demanding things from you when he can’t even bother to get your name right.

Still, you sigh. You wouldn’t comply so easily under normal circumstances. You don’t make it a habit of obeying the boys you encounter in the waters of a strange island, strange ocean, stranger world. But there’s something in the air, you think. Charged, like the air before a strike of lightning—perhaps the remnants of last night’s storm.

“I’m looking for something,” you admit.

He perks up. “For what?”

Everything. “A reason.”

“A reason.”

“Mhm.”

“To do what, live?” He asks, setting his hat down in the sand. You tense. He’s a lot sharper than you realized. “You don’t need a reason," he says. "Just do what you want.”

You sputter. “That’s not—Forget what I said. It’s just that—I can feel everything and nothing at the same time, and I… I’m having a mental breakdown, I think.”

A pause.

The pirate scratches his chin. “Oh. Maybe don’t, then.”

Something about his offhand tone startles a chuckle out of you. Luffy peers at you, coal eyes harsh, studying, before his eyes droop in satisfaction, something coy tugging at his lips.

Another chuckle slips out that blooms into a full-bellied laugh, and then he’s snickering too, and then you’re gripping the sand in an attempt to stay upright because your sides are in stitches, and your cheeks hurt like a bitch, and he’s here and good and free. By the time you calm down, Luffy’s splayed out in the sand, arms pillowing his head, and he’s looking up at you. There’s a gentle hint of curiosity behind his smile, and it warms you and sends something buoyant shooting through your limbs: from your chest to the very tips of your toes.

Maybe don’t, then. It’s possibly the worst advice you’ve ever heard. Possibly the best.

“I made you laugh, didn’t I?” The pirate asks.

You freeze.

“I guess you did, yeah.”

It’s the acknowledgment that reels you back in. Your belongings are gone. Your mother is gone. And you laughed. How? How could you laugh, when you have nothing to your name? How could you laugh, when you have no one to call your own?

The confirmation makes Luffy’s grin grow wider. “Good,” he says. And he is so wild, and assured, and strange. “I thought you forgot how to.”

It burns, you realize. His attention.

For Monkey D. Luffy gets what he wants. If he wants you to laugh, to prove that you can do so, you will. You wonder what he wants out of this conversation. What he wants out of you. What can you give? What will he take?

Maybe he’ll take everything.

Maybe he’ll want nothing,

Your eyes flicker to the sea. A waxing moon hangs over the horizon. She glimmers, translucent and transient in her waters, ebbing and flowing, flowing and ebbing. Beneath her, a ship with a lion head bobs against the coast.

The night is still. Hushed.

You look at your hands. There's sand on your palms.

“What are you doing out here?” You change the subject, still watching the tide. A few hours ago you were drowning in the very same sea. Now you sit with the boy who saved you, safe and dry, with rocks clinging to your skin.

“What’re you?” Luffy challenges.

A gust of wind ruffles the trees, your clothing. It tastes of salt, when you open your mouth to speak. “Wallowing,” you confess. For some reason, you cannot lie to this strange, persistent boy. Maybe it’s due to the fact that you owe him. For it’s he who pulled you out of the water. It’s he who dragged you from the maw of death.

“You shouldn’t be,” he says.

“And who are you to judge?” You turn to face him and find his eyes transfixed on you.

He shrugs. “I’m Luffy, and ’m not judging ya. I’m just sayin’.”

“Saying what, exactly?” You ask, voice hushed like the night; desperate like the tide.

Luffy’s sitting up now, rolling a seashell around his fingers. Your attention is drawn to his neck, where the apple in his throat bobs, and it takes you a second to steer your gaze back to his.

His eyes burn. Bright, even in the dark. “That sitting here alone, moping around is a waste.”

A pause.

“I’m not alone,” you point out.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Not anymore.”

☼

It burns.

You dig your feet into the sand—feel teeny tiny rocks sift through the gaps between your toes. You wonder if Luffy has ever felt doubt. Wonder if he’s ever felt fear.

For fear has not yet unlatched its brutal grip on your heart. It creeps along the fraying edges of your mind. It cups its hands against your ear and whispers sweet nothings. The fact is, Fear murmurs, this won’t last long. Monkey D. Luffy has always been able to do what he wants, when he wants, just because he can. He doesn’t need the contents of a wooden box to tell him who he is. He has no room for doubt.

You are not the same.

So why is he here, taking the time out of his night to admonish you? What does he hope to gain? What does he hope to take?

“I wanna hear you laugh again,” Luffy taps your wrist, pulling you out of your spiral. “Get ready for my joke!” And it’s not a request, it’s a command. And, like you’ve been doing all night, you acquiesce. He shoots you a boyish smile for your assent, and your next inhale is shaky.

There’s a voice in your head advising you to be cautious, however. For embers glow in Luffy’s round, coal eyes. And if you’re not careful, the voice warns, your savior may burn you from the inside out.

if you made it this far, ily.

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#i thiinkk i like this... maybe #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #angst #hurt/comfort #m.luffy #m.op #battle scarred;

191 notes · View notes