Wind Demon (One Piece x Male Reader)

Koby And... Who Again?

Two days had passed since the Straw Hats’ grueling ordeal, and their bodies had finally surrendered to exhaustion so profound that they slept for what felt like an eternity. The temporary guest house they had been given was quiet, filled only with the distant murmur of Water Seven outside.

The late afternoon sun poured through the open window, casting long golden rays across the wooden floors, illuminating the dust particles that floated in the air. But inside the cozy quarters, not all was at ease. The realisation hit Nami like a tidal wave crashing against the shore—violent, sudden, and merciless.

Her tangerine trees were gone.

Her eyes darted frantically around the room, as if searching for some sign, some miracle that they had been misplaced, that this was all just a cruel mistake.

Her lips parted, but no words came out, just a trembling exhale. She staggered back a step, her legs suddenly weak beneath her. “They... they can't be gone.” she whispered under her breath.

Sanji, seeing the panic rising in her eyes, was by her side in an instant, arms outstretched and ready to catch her should she fall. “Nami-san!” he said. “Cry your heart out in my arms, I'll—”

But she didn’t hear him. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, trembling violently as the enormity of their losses sank in.  She looked at Sanji then, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.

“Everything is gone…” A shake of her head, slow at first, then more frantic, as though denying it would somehow undo it all, as though she could fight reality itself if she just refused to accept it.

Sanji opened his mouth to speak, to say something, anything to break through to her—but before he could, Nami suddenly turned away, her body sagging, as though the very act of standing was too much, as though she had been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and could no longer bear it.

And without a word, without hesitation, she walked past Sanji and straight to Y/N.

Y/N, who had been sprawled across his bed, utterly relaxed, barely had time to process what was happening before he felt a sudden, unexpected weight crash down onto his back.

He barely had time to let out a grunt of surprise before Nami collapsed fully against him, her body molding into his, her arms slipping around his torso, clutching him loosely but desperately.

For a moment, there was nothing. No words, no movement—just the steady rise and fall of his back beneath her cheek, the warmth of him against her skin, grounding, real.

Y/N let out a dramatic groan, his voice muffled against the pillow. “Ugh… Really, Nami?” He shifted slightly, but made no real effort to move her. “I’m not your personal mattress.”

There was no response. No teasing remark, no sharp retort and that was when he realised.

With a sigh, Y/N tilted his head slightly, enough to glance over at the dumbstruck cook standing frozen. Sanji was still mid-motion, arms awkwardly outstretched, lips parted as though his words had been stolen straight from his mouth. His eyes flickered between them, his brain seemingly short-circuiting as he tried to process what had just happened.

A slow, lazy smirk curled onto Y/N’s lips as he met Sanji’s bewildered stare. “Sorry,” he muttered, voice dripping with amusement, “guess she chose me.”

Sanji’s jaw clenched. His eye twitched. A storm of emotions flickered across his face—shock, disbelief, and then, simmering beneath it all, a dangerous sort of irritation.

“You…” His voice was a low growl, barely restrained. “You mother—”

A string of increasingly colorful expletives left his mouth, curses muttered under his breath as he exhaled sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets in frustration. He glared at Y/N for a few more seconds, but when it became painfully clear that the other man wasn’t listening—wasn’t even trying to listen—Sanji let out a defeated sigh and turned away, forcing himself back to his chores, though not without an extra aggressive stomp in his step.