One Piece X Reader - Blog Posts

hellooo I really like your work and would like to request some angst

maybe like reader dies or gets close to it. some more uncommon charcters too like nami, usopp, or franky please!!

thank you for really cool work and I hope you can do this!!

hii! thank u sm~ oohh~ thats a great idea, ive decided to put them all together, hope u like it!

What Remains

The Straw Hats survive a Marine superweapon test — but only because you don’t. You made a choice to save them all, and they didn’t see it coming.

strawhats x platonic gn! reader tags: angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, platonic bonds, grief a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Smoke curled upward from the scorched ruins of the Marine testing island. The sky was dim, bleeding orange as the sun tried and failed to burn away the choking clouds.

They found your body beneath the collapsed structure—arms still raised like you were shielding the others even in death.

It wasn’t the injuries that broke them. It was the look on your face.

Peaceful.

Like you knew.

ONE WEEK EARLIER.

"These weapons..." Franky said, examining the diagrams. "They’re worse than anything Vegapunk ever dreamed up. They’re built to erase islands."

“And they’re testing them here?” Nami’s voice trembled with disbelief.

Usopp peered over the map. “That’s not all. Some of this... it’s Poneglyph script. These freaks are mixing history with firepower.”

You didn’t say anything.

You just stared at the map. Quiet. Calm. Like a storm on the horizon no one else had seen yet.

“We have to stop this,” you said.

Of course, everyone agreed.

But none of them saw what you saw. None of them realized the cost yet.

Not even you.

THE BATTLE.

The Straw Hats split into teams. Luffy and Zoro drew the front lines away. Robin sabotaged the comms. Brook and Jinbei distracted the guards. Chopper tended to wounded civilians trying to escape.

You were supposed to go in with Franky and Usopp.

You didn’t.

You slipped away the moment they weren’t looking, whispering your last words to Nami before disappearing into the smoke.

“I trust you. Don’t look back.”

You found the core buried deep underground.

A thrumming vault of seastone and ancient script, glowing with stolen knowledge and raw destruction.

You knew what it meant.

You could read the Poneglyph fragments embedded in the weapons.

You knew what would happen if they were activated.

So you made a choice.

A selfish, irreversible choice.

You overloaded the core.

THE AFTERMATH.

When the blast hit, it carved a crater into the earth.

Luffy felt it first—his scream carried across the island like a cannon blast. “(Y/N)!!”

Franky’s stomach dropped. He bolted toward the smoke, ignoring everything—orders, pain, fire.

Usopp followed. Nami, too. She didn’t even speak. Her Clima-Tact sparked wildly, emotions bleeding into weather.

They dug with bare hands and bleeding fingers.

And finally, they found you.

Still. Burned. Crushed.

But unmistakably you.

And unmistakably gone.

THE SUNNY.

Franky hadn’t spoken in two days.

He sat in the engine room, back turned to everyone, arms blackened with soot and oil. He worked until his hands bled, building gods knew what.

Chopper had tried to check on him. Franky didn’t even look up.

Usopp wandered the deck in silence, eyes red, mouth dry. He hadn’t told a single story since they left the island.

He’d tried. He opened his mouth once to make a joke, and nothing came out.

So he just sat with your grave marker, talking to it like you were there.

And Nami—Nami was broken in a way no one had ever seen.

She didn’t cry loudly. She didn’t scream. She just shut down.

She went days without food. Sat curled in the crow’s nest, staring out to sea, clutching the note you left her in your final moments.

"Don’t look back."

She hated you for it.

She loved you for it.

She never stopped shaking.

NIGHT.

Luffy stood by the railing, his hat pulled low, wind in his face.

Sanji stood beside him in silence.

“You knew they were gonna die,” Luffy said suddenly. His voice wasn’t angry. It was hollow.

Sanji lit a cigarette, fingers shaking. “I knew they weren’t coming back.”

Luffy didn’t answer.

“They saved all of us,” Sanji added after a long pause.

“I didn’t want saving,” Luffy whispered.

Then he turned and walked away.

FRANKY.

The machine he was building exploded.

He didn’t flinch.

Robin found him hours later, crouched beside the wreckage, staring into space.

“They’d have slapped me for this,” he said quietly.

Robin knelt beside him. “For what?”

“For not stopping them.”

“They knew what they were doing.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

Robin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It never does.”

USOPP.

He buried the dials you used in a small, unmarked box.

Every trap you helped him design, every gadget you tweaked. Gone. Hidden away like a secret.

“I’m never going to be that brave,” he whispered.

Then he broke.

Ugly, shaking sobs that echoed across the deck.

NAMI.

She didn’t speak for three days.

Then, she found Franky. Slammed him into a wall.

“You let them go alone!” she screamed.

Franky didn’t fight back. “I know.”

“YOU PROMISED—YOU PROMISED ME THEY’D COME BACK—!”

He wrapped his arms around her mid-swing, held her as she sobbed, her fists pounding against his chest until they were too weak to lift.

ONE WEEK LATER.

Luffy called everyone to the deck.

No one knew why.

When they arrived, they found him standing in front of a small, newly-built monument.

A single beam of the destroyed fortress. Carved with your name.

And beneath it—your jacket. Cleaned. Pressed. Folded neatly.

Luffy didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

They stood together. Silent.

One by one, they left offerings.

Sanji placed a bottle of sake.

Robin left a single violet flower.

Chopper tied a string of charms around the wood.

Zoro leaned his sword against it for a moment. A quiet nod of respect.

Brook played a low, mournful tune on his violin.

Jinbei lit a lantern and pushed it into the sea.

Usopp placed a small slingshot on the beam.

Franky left a blueprint.

And Nami… Nami placed your note. The last one you ever wrote.

“Don’t look back.”

She whispered, “I’m going to.”

Then she walked away.

.

.

.

They kept your room the way it was.

No one said it aloud—but they all visited.

Nami would sit on your bed when the nightmares came.

Usopp would fix the shelves you always overloaded with junk.

Franky recharged your tools every week, even though you weren’t there to use them.

And Luffy…

Luffy would sit on the figurehead, facing forward, holding your jacket in his lap.

He never cried where anyone could see.

But the jacket was always warm.

As if it still remembered you.

maybe i need a whole fic with luffy x reader married now... i'm not charging you, maybe i'm just in love with your writing

a/n: thank u <3 hope u like this~

Wait… Luffy’s WHAT?!

Luffy reunites with his childhood sweetheart, who also happens to be his secret spouse. The crew thought he was joking… until they weren’t laughing anymore.

LUFFY X GN!READER | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, ooc, marriage, reader is opposite of luffy

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.3k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Thousand Sunny drifted through the final tunnel, water glistening against its protective bubble as Fishman Island came into view.

“WOAAAH!” Luffy yelled from the deck, eyes wide. “It’s so shiny!”

“I can’t believe it’s real!” Chopper spun around.

Robin smiled behind a hand. “The architecture here is said to be older than the Grand Line itself.”

“I heard the royal family is pretty generous,” Nami added. “If we play this smart, we could stock up for weeks.”

But Luffy? His mind was somewhere else entirely. Or rather, on someone.

He leaned against the rail, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I wonder if they’re here…”

“LUFFY, GET BACK HERE, YOU CAN’T JUST–!”

“NAMI!, I SMELL MEEAAT!”

He was already gone. Sprinting like a man possessed through the bustling bubble streets of Fishman Island, eyes wide, tongue out, arms flailing in glee.

“Captain,” Robin said with a small smile, “seems excited.”

“He's always excited,” Zoro muttered, arms crossed. “But this time he’s extra stupid.”

Brook hummed thoughtfully. “Yohohoho, I wonder if the meat will marry him too.”

“Wait, did you say marry?” Usopp blinked. “Oh yeah! Didn’t Luffy say he was married once?”

“…Didn’t we all think he was joking?” Franky asked, brows raised.

“Yeah,” Chopper added with a little snort. “He said something like ‘I already got a wife, and they’re way stronger than all of you!’ and we just laughed.”

The crew exchanged glances.

“…You think he was serious?”

MEANWHILE.

Luffy skidded around the corner, bonking a coral lamp post with his forehead. “Ow–!”

“Still no sense of direction?”

He froze.

That voice.

He knew that voice like the back of his hand — or the taste of meat. Slowly, his wide eyes turned toward the source.

There, standing with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, was you.

Stoic, calm, one eyebrow raised, and totally unamused as always.

“Y/N!!” Luffy beamed, bolting toward you. “Y/N Y/N Y/N! YOU'RE HERE!!”

Before you could scold him, he’d wrapped you in a tight hug that nearly knocked you back.

“Still a hugger as usual, huh?” you mumbled, eyes softening just a bit.

“Missed you! SHISHISHI,” he grinned into your shoulder.

“You saw me six months ago,” you said, deadpan.

“Yeah!, but that’s like…so long!!”

You sighed, though your hand was already resting on his back, grounding the chaotic ball of sunshine that had stolen your heart all those years ago.

“…You never change.”

FLASHBACK - Windmill Village

“You’re so noisy.”

“C’mon Y/N, let’s go punch that tree again!”

Putting your book down, you sat with your arms folded, watching as young Luffy jumped up and down with excitement, a stick in his hand like it was the strongest sword in the world.

“We’ll get stronger together! Then we’ll go on adventures and eat meat every day!”

You blinked. “That’s your dream?”

“Yup! What’s yours?”

You shrugged. “I don’t have one.”

“Then make one with me!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Make a dream with you?”

He nodded seriously. “We can share. Like best friends. Or… like married people!”

“…That’s not how marriage works.”

“Then I’ll change the rules!”

You stared at him.

“…Fine.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

“What now.”

“If we ever get married, can I still eat meat at the wedding?”

You looked up from your book. “Obviously. I won’t marry someone who doesn’t love meat.”

He blinked, surprised. “So you will marry me?”

You went back to reading. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

His heart exploded like fireworks.

BACK TO PRESENT

“Wait,” Sanji whispered from the side of the plaza, crouched with the rest of the crew behind some candy-colored seaweed. “Is that them?! MELLORINEE~~”

“THEM?!” Usopp whispered. “You know them?!”

“I’ve heard rumors,” Sanji sighed dreamily. “That’s Y/N — calm as the sea before a storm. Feared in the Grand Line and cold-hearted~"

“Yeah, but they’re…” Chopper tilted his head. “Letting Luffy carry them like a backpack right now.”

“Are they… cuddling?” Zoro’s eye twitched. “In public?”

“I’m SUPER! emotionally confused,” Franky muttered.

“Yohohoho,” Brook said softly. “So our captain is… married.”

“And he was serious,” Robin added, intrigued.

Luffy still hadn’t let go. You were currently being dragged around the island as he loudly pointed at every fish-person, street food stall, and bubble coral with endless excitement.

“Look, Y/N, look!! That octopus is playing drums!!”

You nodded. “Mm.”

“And that shark guy has THREE swords!”

You blinked. “Impressive.”

“Oh! That candy shop sells meat-lollipops!! Want one?”

“…Fine.”

He gasped, eyes shining. “You said yes! You never say yes to candy!”

“It’s for you, dumbass.”

He beamed so hard it could’ve powered the Sunny.

LATER, WITH THE CREW

“LUFFY!!”

He turned mid-bite of his meat-lollipop. “Huh?”

“WHAT. IS. GOING. ON?!” Nami shrieked.

You were sitting beside him, sipping seaweed tea calmly. “Can I help you?”

“YEAH, YOU CAN EXPLAIN HOW YOU’RE—MARRIED TO LUFFY?!”

He tilted his head. “I told you guys already.”

“YEAH BUT YOU SAID IT WHILE EATING A SEA KING LEG!!”

Franky pointed dramatically. “That’s not the time for SUPER confessions, bro!”

You raised a hand. “We’ve been married for years. It’s just not something we flaunt.”

“…You married Luffy. As in legal.”

“Technically yes. I still have the officiation snail photo. Luffy drew a mustache on it.”

“HE LOOKED SO FUNNY!! SHISHISHI” Luffy grinned, remembering it fondly.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR PERSONALITY?! YOU’RE THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE!” Usopp flailed.

You stared at him. “What about it?”

“I dunno!! It’s just… Luffy’s sunshine! You’re like… moonlight. That can kill people.”

Zoro finally snapped. “Okay, no offense, but how do you even deal with him?”

You sighed, placing a hand over Luffy’s head as he practically melted beside you.

“…I’ve dealt with worse than a meat-goblin with a hero complex and zero sense of personal space.”

“That’s me!!” Luffy said proudly.

Robin giggled. “You really are opposites.”

“They’re so cool,” Sanji whispered, nose bleeding. “They’re scary. But like, in a hot way~”

“Are you crushing on our captain’s spouse?!” the crew hissed.

“Can’t help it~”

LATER THAT NIGHT ON THE SUNNY

You sat at the edge of the deck, legs dangling above the water, watching the glowing sea beneath.

Luffy flopped beside you, resting his head in your lap like he always did when the sky was quiet.

“You’re really okay with all this attention?” you asked, fingers brushing his hair.

“Mmhmm. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You never cared about showing people.”

“I didn’t think I had to. You're mine. That’s already the best thing ever.”

Your hand paused. Then resumed slowly.

“You’re still dumb.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m your dumb.”

“…Yeah. You are.”

He yawned, curling closer. “Remember the promise we made?”

“Which one? You made a lot.”

“The one about sharing dreams.”

You looked up at the stars. “Yeah. I remember.”

“I still wanna do that. Even if it’s dumb. Even if I die trying.”

You tapped his forehead.

“You won’t die. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”

NEXT MORNING — FISHMAN ISLAND MARKET

“I WANT TO BUY THAT ONE!”

“Luffy, that’s a pearl the size of a cannonball.”

“I WANT IT!!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Luffy, if I have to carry another crate of your ‘souvenirs’ I will drown you.”

He gasped. “Y/N!! That’s mean!”

“…You like that.”

“I DO!”

“Ew, please stop flirting where I can hear you,” Nami groaned as she walked by.

Zoro muttered, “Every time I think they’ll kill each other, they end up flirting again.”

“Do you think they’ll ever kiss in front of us?” Chopper asked innocently.

Sanji's eye turned into fire. “NO WAY! I'LL KICK YOU! YOU DAMN MONKEY!!!"

“Luffy, stop licking the pearl.”

“You know,” Robin said later that evening, watching you drag Luffy back from trying to arm-wrestle a sea king, “they’re oddly perfect together.”

“Opposites attract,” Franky nodded.

“They’re like fire and ice,” Brook added.

“More like hyper gremlin and emotionless murderbot,” Nami muttered.

“…Still somehow works,” Zoro said.

Sanji sobbed. “WHEN WILL MY TURN COME?!"

.

.

— A FEW DAYS LATER

“Hey, Robin,” Usopp whispered as the ship cruised along the current.

“Yes?”

“…Do you think we should throw them a wedding party?”

She sipped her tea. “I think if you try, you’ll die.”

“Right.”

“Besides,” she added, glancing at the couple watching the sunset at the bow of the ship, Luffy wrapped around you like a sleepy octopus, “I think they already had the only wedding they needed.”

Doctor Trafalgar, Love Expert?

Law gives terrible love advice to Penguin while clearly ignoring his own painfully obvious crush on you.

Law X gn! reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, friends-to-lovers typeshi(?) law being timid a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

If there was one thing Trafalgar Law wasn’t qualified to do, it was give romantic advice.

Sure, he was a brilliant surgeon, a pirate captain, and had a smirk that could make a nun sin, but when it came to feelings—specifically his own—he was a flaming shipwreck in a storm of emotional denial.

And yet, here he was, arms crossed, giving unsolicited love advice to Penguin like he was the therapist from a soap opera.

“Just tell her she’s inefficient,” Law said with a straight face. “It’s a compliment.”

Bepo blinked up at him. “...Captain, I don’t think calling Penguin’s crush inefficient is going to help his chances.”

“You asked for honesty,” Law muttered, flipping through his medical journal like it was more interesting than this disaster in progress. “Efficiency is attractive.”

“To you, maybe!”

You, meanwhile, were watching this entire trainwreck from the galley door with a cup of tea and the kind of secondhand embarrassment that deserved its own trauma counseling.

“Law,” you called. “Did you just say ‘inefficient’ as a flirting tactic?”

He didn’t even look up. “It’s a practical compliment.”

You snorted. “What’s next? ‘Your presence improves my survival odds by 6.4%’?”

“…Depending on the environment, that’s a generous estimate.”

You and Bepo shared a look. A look that screamed, Why is this our captain?

The whole thing had started that morning when Penguin had walked into the common area in a flurry of nerves and confessed, “I think I like someone.”

Law, who’d been reading while pretending not to be listening to music in one earbud (yes, he still used wired ones, don’t ask), barely lifted his gaze. “Then tell them.”

Penguin shuffled. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s the truth.”

“And what if they don’t like me back?”

Law gave the emotional equivalent of a shrug. “Then adapt. Rejection is survivable.”

Penguin groaned from the couch. “Cap, you can’t treat love like it’s battle tactics.”

“It’s a high-risk operation involving fragile variables and potential bloodshed. Sounds pretty accurate.”

Shachi nodded. “Okay, that’s fair, but also incredibly bleak.”

And that’s when Law was voluntold by everyone that if he was going to act like he knew how love worked, he had to give actual advice.

Hence: Doctor Trafalgar, Love Expert?

“Okay,” you said, taking the empty seat beside him and plucking the journal from his hands. “If you’re so good at giving advice, help me out.”

Law narrowed his eyes. “With what?”

“I think someone likes me,” you said casually, leaning back like you weren’t about to stir up the most delicious chaos. “But I can’t tell if they’re just awkward or trying to be subtle.”

His jaw tightened. “Who is it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s why I need your expert opinion.”

Law closed the journal and set it down very deliberately.

Everyone in the room went very still. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi exchanged silent screams with their eyebrows.

“Well,” Law said coolly. “What are the signs?”

“Hmm,” you hummed. “They hover a lot. Make excuses to talk to me. Kind of avoid eye contact but also stare when they think I’m not looking.”

His eye twitched. “Stare?”

“Yeah. And once, they brought me extra rice even though I didn’t ask.”

Silence.

Law stood up. “That’s suspicious.”

“Oh?”

“Sounds like they’re trying too hard.”

“Ohhh?” you said, biting back a smile.

“They’re probably nervous. Emotionally constipated. Bad at expressing feelings.” He said all this like he wasn’t describing himself to an absurdly accurate degree. “Possibly repressed.”

“Should I confront them?”

“No,” he said quickly, a little too quickly. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“It might scare them away.”

“But if they like me…”

“Then wait for them to say something first.”

Bepo coughed. “So… basically just let them suffer in silence?”

“It builds character,” Law said.

You covered your mouth to hide your grin. “You’re such a romantic.”

Law’s ears turned pink. “Shut up.”

Later that day, Shachi cornered you near the engine room with a look of deep judgment.

“You’re torturing him.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

He pointed a wrench at you. “You know he likes you.”

“Do I?”

“You’ve been fake-flirting with a ghost for the last week just to get him to react!”

You smirked. “It’s good cardio.”

Shachi groaned. “He’s gonna combust. I saw him look up love confession rituals on his snail phone last night.”

Your eyes widened. “No.”

“Yes! And he accidentally joined a forum for single dads in North Blue.”

You wheezed. “He’s going through it.”

“So help him out!”

“…Fine.”

The opportunity came the next morning when you walked into the kitchen and found Law staring at a mug of coffee like it had personally betrayed him.

He didn’t look up when you entered, just mumbled, “Morning.”

“Morning,” you said, walking over. “Sleep okay?”

He made a grunt of vague disapproval.

You sat beside him. “Thinking about your crush?”

He choked on his coffee.

“I mean,” you said, oh-so-innocently. “That mystery person you gave advice about.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re very nosy.”

“You’re very obvious.”

He gave you a look. “I don’t have a crush.”

You tilted your head. “Are you sure? Because everyone on this ship seems to think you do.”

“Everyone on this ship is bored.”

“Bored enough to notice how you go quiet when I talk, how you walk into rooms I’m in and pretend it’s for unrelated reasons, or how you stare at my lips when I eat dessert?”

He went dead silent.

You leaned closer. “So. Doctor Trafalgar. Any prescriptions for yourself?”

“…Shut up,” he muttered, face flushed.

You blinked. “Wait. That was a confession.”

He got up.

You grabbed his wrist.

He froze.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly softer. “I like you too, dumbass.”

He blinked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a little red candy. “I was going to make you say it first, but you looked like you were about to diagnose yourself with heartbreak.”

He blinked again.

“…You like me?”

“God, yes. Even when you’re being a brick wall with nice tattoos.”

“…I have more than just tattoos,” he muttered.

You grinned. “Yeah, you’ve also got a charming inability to express affection. It’s cute.”

He shook his head. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re still holding my hand.”

Pause.

He looked down.

He was.

“…Tch.”

You laughed and tugged him back down. “Stay.”

“…Fine.”

Later, Penguin came in to find the two of you sitting shoulder to shoulder, quietly sharing a plate of snacks.

“Captain?” Penguin said, tilting his head. “Did you take your own advice?”

Law didn’t look up. “No.”

You grinned. “He took mine.”

Hot Springs, Hot Tempers

You and King accidentally end up in the same secluded hot spring. Cue awkward tension, steamy misunderstandings, and fluffy chaos.

King X gn! reader | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, king being bad at flirting(?), ooc king, post-battle

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.2k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You had no idea the hot spring was co-ed.

Okay, to be fair, the old innkeeper had mumbled something about the “blessed harmony of nature,” but you’d tuned her out while ogling the steaming bath behind her. After all, after days of dodging explosions, clashing with marines, and nearly getting cooked alive by Kaido’s fire breath (which—honestly—should be illegal), you were in desperate need of a hot soak.

So, in you went.

Alone. Glorious. Gloriously alone. Or so you thought.

You sunk into the mineral-rich waters with a satisfied moan, stretching out your limbs like a boiled noodle.

“Finally,” you sighed. “Peace.”

And that’s exactly when you heard it—the sound of something massive stepping through the entrance behind you.

You froze mid-soak. Slowly turned your head.

And there he was.

King.

All 20-foot-something of him, broad shoulders covered in black scales and steam, towering at the threshold with his helmet already off, wings folded behind him like a damn mythical creature who forgot how personal space works.

He stopped, towel hanging over his shoulder, completely stone-faced as your eyes met.

“Oh no,” you said flatly, water sloshing around you.

King blinked. “...This is the private spring, isn’t it?”

You shot up, half-submerged. “I thought this was the solo spring!”

“You thought wrong.”

“You’re the one barging in here like some half-naked goth dragon!”

“I’m wearing a towel.”

“Barely!”

An awkward silence settled like fog on the water.

Then you noticed it—King’s expression faltering ever so slightly, as though realizing he had, in fact, just crashed a very vulnerable soak session.

“I’ll leave,” he muttered, turning on his heel with all the grace of a man who never once had to care about bathing etiquette.

“No, wait—ugh. Don’t.” You sighed, flopping back against the smooth rock ledge. “It’s fine. Let’s just pretend we’re two strangers in an awkward commercial.”

King paused. “A what?”

“Never mind.”

He stepped forward, water rippling violently with every heavy-footed motion, and settled into the far end of the spring. The opposite end. The farthest possible distance between you and his very large, very shirtless self.

Great. Now you had to pretend you weren’t occasionally glancing at his shoulders.

To be fair, you tried not to. But he was right there. With skin that shimmered like obsidian under the moonlight and muscles that made Greek statues look like soggy breadsticks.

And then he caught you looking.

You quickly looked away.

“I wasn’t—uh—I mean, nice... wings?” you blurted out.

His eyebrow raised. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

You groaned and covered your face. “I’m under pressure, okay?! You’re like—intimidating hot.”

King blinked. His cheeks, you could swear, colored faintly at the edges.

“Don’t call me hot.”

“Well don’t show up shirtless, glistening with steam like some overworked fanfic trope.”

A beat.

“…What’s a fanfic?”

“Forget it.”

Another silence.

Then, out of nowhere, King spoke. “I didn’t know you used hot springs.”

You side-eyed him. “I didn’t know you bathed.”

“I’m not a savage.”

“Well, jury’s still out.”

King huffed, turning his face slightly. For someone who once split a marine ship in two with his boot, he looked incredibly put out by your teasing. Almost pouty.

You smirked.

“Well, since we’re stuck here together… might as well enjoy it,” you said, leaning back against the stone and letting the warm water lull your muscles.

King tilted his head. “You’re not going to try anything stupid?”

“What, like seducing you with my wrinkly prune fingers?” you held up your soaked hands.

“…Yes.”

You snorted. “Please, you’d combust before anything happened.”

He grunted. “Fair.”

A few more moments passed. You dared peek again.

He was leaning back, steam coiling around his broad frame like silk, wings shifting with every subtle motion. You noticed he had a faint scar running along his collarbone—jagged, healed-over, and oddly… human.

“You have a scar,” you said before you could stop yourself.

King opened one eye lazily. “Observation. Noted.”

“No, I mean… I didn’t think Lunarians could scar.”

He was quiet for a beat. “I got it before the flame. Before I could heal.”

“Oh,” you murmured, eyes softening.

The mood quieted.

But then you, unable to help yourself, added: “...So you were a clumsy kid.”

He side-eyed you. “I fell from a sky cliff. That’s not clumsy. That’s survival.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m sure you looked very majestic doing it.”

“I did.”

You both cracked a small laugh. A real laugh.

And then—

SPLOOSH!

A wild monkey cannonballed into the spring.

You screamed. King leapt halfway out of the water with his wings flared.

“WHAT IN—?!”

The monkey screeched, flopped onto a rock, and began casually bathing itself with a smug little expression.

“…Are you serious?” you muttered.

King glared at the monkey. “It’s staring at me.”

You nudged closer. “Probably impressed by your wingspan.”

“Or your screaming.”

“Excuse me! That was a war cry of surprise.”

“I thought it was a kettle exploding.”

“You—!”

You were cut off by the monkey stealing your towel.

It yanked it from the side, chattered triumphantly, and bolted into the woods.

“HEY!!”

King, somehow, did not move to help. In fact, he looked… amused?

“Don’t you dare laugh,” you warned.

His lips twitched. “Consider it karma for calling me a ‘goth dragon’.”

You groaned and sank deeper into the water. “I’m gonna have to air dry now like a soggy noodle.”

“You’ll survive,” King said, voice warm with uncharacteristic amusement.

You both sat in steamy silence for a bit longer, the earlier tension melting with the mist.

After a few minutes, King shifted closer. Not much—just a foot or two. But it was enough to make your heart stutter.

“...You come here often?” he asked, in the most unintentionally awkward tone imaginable.

You blinked.

“…Are you hitting on me?”

“No,” he said too quickly.

You raised a brow. “That was absolutely a pickup line.”

“It was not.”

“You literally just asked, ‘do you come here often?’ in a secluded hot spring.”

“…Coincidence.”

You stared at him. He stared back.

Then—you burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe this. You’re terrible at flirting.”

King flushed. “I’m not trying to flirt.”

“Oh, no, of course not. That towel drop earlier was just an accident too, huh?”

“That was gravity’s fault.”

You giggled so hard you slipped slightly under the water, splashing like a drunk dolphin.

And then—you felt his hand.

Gentle. Large. Holding your elbow to steady you.

You froze.

He looked surprised at himself too, eyes wide like he hadn’t meant to do that.

But he didn’t pull away.

“…Thanks,” you mumbled, suddenly very aware of the fact that your face was burning hotter than the water.

King’s gaze softened. Just slightly.

“You’re welcome.”

You both stayed like that, too long, too close. Until—

“HEY!!” someone called in the distance. “Is the spring free yet?!”

It was Queen.

You and King jumped apart like teenagers caught making out behind the gym.

“I should go,” you said.

“Yes. Right.”

You stood up, realized you still didn’t have a towel, and groaned.

King turned his back with a surprising amount of respect. “Take mine.”

“…Wait, seriously?”

“You’ll catch a cold,” he muttered, ears slightly red.

You wrapped it around yourself, stunned silent for once.

As you left the spring, water dripping and heart racing, you dared glance back at King—still chest-deep in steam, gaze lowered, face unreadable.

But there was a faint curl to his lips. Almost like a smile.

You didn’t know what that meant. But you did know one thing:

You were definitely coming back to this spring.

And next time, you might just forget to bring a towel again.

Hi! Hope you have a nice day. If it's okay with you, may i request something for the charming firefly, ace?

Something like ace is vv oblivious to the reader's flirting, just thinking everything just a coincidence, like their seat on the dining table are next to each other, or when he's thirsty or hungry, the reader will always have a drink or snack/food ready. While actually it's happening because of the reader and their observations.

Sorry if it's too long, thanks for your time for reading this! (Completely okay if you're not ok with writing this, i just wanna say thank you)

a/n: wahh! thiss is soo cutee! hope u like thiss ><

Clueless Hearts and Full Plates

Ace doesn’t realize the reader’s affection is behind every perfect coincidence—until one finally clicks.

Ace X gn! reader

tags: fluff, sfw, flirting, ooc, ace being oblivious

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It was always a coincidence.

At least, that’s what Ace thought.

Every meal, every shared moment, every little “accident” that placed you beside him was chalked up to fate, luck, or the universe just being weirdly nice to him that day.

Like this morning.

The Moby Dick rocked gently with the waves, and the crew had begun their daily scramble to the galley. Ace, still half-asleep with bedhead and one sandal barely on, made his way to the table. As usual, the crew’s chatter filled the room with the kind of loud, familial chaos only the Whitebeard Pirates could manage.

And, also as usual, the seat beside you was the only one open.

“Hey,” Ace greeted, plopping down with a yawn and no suspicion.

“Morning,” you replied, already pushing a glass of orange juice in his direction without a second thought.

He blinked. “Whoa, you read my mind. I was just thinking I was thirsty.”

You smiled. “Coincidence, I guess.”

Ace grinned, utterly unaware of how long you’d been keeping track of the way he always reached for juice in the morning, never coffee, never water. Just juice. Always.

After a minute, he added, “Also kinda hungry… I forgot to grab a roll or somethin’.”

You wordlessly slid a small plate of warm bread and butter closer to him.

He gasped, delighted. “Seriously, you’re magic! You always have just what I need!”

You bit your lip to hide the fond curve of your smile. “Lucky timing, huh?”

Lucky timing.

That’s what he called it the other day when he tripped coming down the deck stairs and nearly face-planted—only to find your hand catching him in time. It’s what he called it when he accidentally left his hat on the upper deck and you “just so happened” to come by with it a few minutes later.

You didn’t mind. Not really.

It was kind of… endearing. In an Ace-way. He wasn't cold or careless—he just genuinely didn’t see it. The thought that you might be observing him, remembering the things he liked, and subtly trying to show him how much you cared? It never even crossed his mind.

You watched as he messily buttered a piece of bread, crumbs falling on the table. He looked content, humming a tune and swinging his feet like a child in a giant’s chair. And when he caught you watching, he gave you a bright smile—one so open and warm it made your stomach flutter.

“Y’know,” he mumbled around a bite, “you’re always around. It’s kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” you teased.

He nodded, mouth still full. “Mm-hmm. Like, comfy.”

The word hit somewhere soft in your chest. He didn’t even realize he was flirting back.

Later that day, a few of the crew were setting up for poker in the corner, but you were more interested in the commotion coming from the training area. You leaned against the railing, watching Ace spar with Marco. He was shirtless, flames licking at his fingertips as he dodged and laughed, clearly having fun.

Your gaze lingered on him. How could it not? He was strong, fast, alive with every movement.

And when he collapsed on the deck in dramatic defeat—Marco having pinned him with a blue-flamed armbar—he wheezed out, “Water… I need water…”

By the time Marco released him, you were already at his side, bottle in hand.

“Holy crap,” Ace said between breaths. “You’re, like… everywhere.”

“I told you,” you said casually, helping him sit up. “Lucky timing.”

He chuckled, leaning back on his palms and chugging half the bottle. “At this point, I’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel or something.”

You raised a brow. “You think your guardian angel would watch you get elbowed into the deck before offering water?”

Ace grinned. “Gotta build character, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest was warm with something fond and frustrating. How could he be so oblivious?

The truth was, you noticed everything about him. The way he only got grumpy when he was too hot or too tired. How he always tried to hide his hiccups when he laughed too hard. How he made sure the youngest crewmates never felt left out during meals, even if it meant giving them the last piece of meat on his plate.

You didn’t just like him. You admired him.

So yeah, maybe you rearranged your seat every meal to end up next to him. Maybe you kept his favorite snacks in your jacket pockets during long shifts. Maybe you started carrying an extra bottle of water—just in case a certain fire fist decided to exhaust himself in a sparring match.

He never asked. You just… wanted to.

And he just… didn’t notice.

It wasn’t until one particular night, under the stars, that things finally shifted.

You were both sitting on the edge of the deck, feet dangling above the sea. Most of the crew was asleep or out of sight. Ace had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and you handed him a second one without saying a word.

“Man, it’s like you read my mind,” he said for the hundredth time.

You sighed softly. “Maybe your mind is just easy to read.”

He looked at you, puzzled. “Huh?”

You gave a small, nervous smile. “I mean… I always seem to know what you need, right? I guess I just pay attention.”

There was a pause. The kind of pause where your heart beats a little faster, wondering if maybe, finally, he might catch on.

Ace blinked. “Oh. So you’ve got like, observation haki or something?”

You stared at him.

Deadpan.

“…Yeah. Sure. Let’s call it that.”

He beamed. “That’s so cool!”

You dropped your face into your hands.

But then—something changed in his tone.

“…Wait.”

You peeked up through your fingers.

Ace’s smile was still there, but it was… slower. Thoughtful. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. Every juice, every meal, every seat, every snack.

And then, like someone lit a match under his brain, realization bloomed across his face.

“…Wait.”

You watched the faintest red spread over his cheeks. He sat straighter. “Are you—? Have you been—? This whole time—?”

You tilted your head, lips twitching. “You’re cute when you put the puzzle together.”

He gawked. “So it wasn’t just coincidences?!”

You snorted. “Ace, I’ve been flirting with you for weeks.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

And then he laughed. It was loud, a little embarrassed, but full of warmth.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“A lovable idiot,” you corrected, nudging his shoulder.

“…So does this mean,” he said slowly, “you like me? Like, like like?”

You raised a brow. “Only if you like me back.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours with a shy, crooked grin. “Well, now that I know… I’m definitely gonna start paying attention.”

You chuckled, nudging the bottle of water into his hand again. “Start with drinking water. Then we’ll work our way up to romance.”

Ace laughed, and this time, he didn’t call it luck.

Flustered Fury

You flirt just to mess with him. It backfires. Now you’re flustered.

Benn Beckman X GN!READER | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, flirting, ooc

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 786

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Red Force gently rocked on the Grand Line's turquoise waters. The crew of the Red-Haired Pirates lounged on deck, bellies full from a hearty lunch, half the crew already dozing under the sails while the other half busied themselves with maintenance or mock sword fights.

You had made it a habit lately to tease Benn Beckman. He was too cool, too collected, too... smug. So naturally, your favorite past-time had become finding new ways to get under his skin.

The man never cracked.

Not when you "accidentally" called him hot in front of the crew. Not when you wore his shirt without asking and claimed you needed something that "smelled like safety and sarcasm." Not even when you told Shanks you were considering writing a love letter to his first mate just to see if he'd burn it or frame it.

But today? Today you had a plan.

You sauntered over to where Benn leaned against the mast, smoking as always, eyes half-lidded as he watched some of the younger crew members spar.

"You know," you began sweetly, stopping just short of his shadow. "I read somewhere that intelligent men are more attractive because their brains are the largest... organ."

He exhaled smoke slowly. "That so?"

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. "Of course. I think you're devastatingly well-endowed."

Benn turned his head toward you, one brow lifting in amusement. "Well, you're certainly... creative."

"You love it."

"You think you’re charming," he replied, deadpan. "But you’re mostly a menace."

You fake-pouted. "Rude. I was flirting."

"I noticed."

Silence settled between you for a moment before Benn gave a tiny smirk.

"You’re not very good at it, by the way."

Your jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

He turned back to the sparring match like you were yesterday's soup.

"I’m an excellent flirt!"

"You’re an obvious flirt. That’s different."

Oh, it was on.

The next day, you doubled down.

"Benn," you greeted sweetly, hands clasped behind your back.

He didn’t even look up from his chart. "Yes?"

You dropped a folded napkin onto the map. Inside: a doodle of you and Benn holding hands, surrounded by hearts and the words 'Bennifer 4ever'.

He paused. Then picked it up. Then stared at it.

"This is a lot of glitter."

"I wanted it to sparkle like our chemistry."

He looked up at you with a neutral expression that screamed amused but suffering.

"...Are those supposed to be matching tattoos?"

"Yup. You and me. Our initials. On our biceps. I’m thinking cursive font, blood red ink."

"Mm. Dramatic."

You grinned. You were winning.

The next few days followed a theme:

You made Benn a heart-shaped sandwich. He ate it without comment but winked at you while licking mayo off his thumb.

You told Yasopp you had a dream about Benn proposing to you with a ring made from a bullet. Benn overheard.

You dropped your hat over Benn's head while he was napping. He woke up, smiled, and wore it all afternoon.

You were getting to him.

Until he got to you.

It was evening. The Red Force was bathed in amber sunset glow. You leaned on the railing, sipping juice from a coconut, when Benn joined you.

"You’re quiet today," he said casually.

You shrugged. "I figured you needed a break from all the attention."

"That’s sweet," he said, voice low. "But I never asked you to stop."

Your heart did a confused little flip.

You turned to look at him. He was very close. Closer than usual. Close enough that his scent—smoke, leather, and something warm like cedarwood—was the only thing you could smell.

"You enjoy being flirted with?" you asked, your voice a bit higher than intended.

"I enjoy watching you try."

Your mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

He smirked.

"You’re blushing."

"Am not."

He took a step closer. "You always this red when someone flirts back?"

Your brain went static. "...Did you just flirt with me?"

"You tell me, hotshot."

You took a step back. Then another. Right into a barrel.

Benn laughed.

Actually laughed.

Deep, gravelly, and smug as hell.

"You okay there, Casanova?"

You huffed. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"Fine. I hate how good you are at this."

"Mm. Acceptable."

You turned your back to him, trying to hide your flustered expression. Benn leaned on the railing beside you again, clearly amused.

"So... what now?" you muttered.

"Now? We pretend I didn’t win."

"You think you won?"

"I know I did."

You turned to him slowly. "That sounds like a challenge."

He grinned. That grin.

"Bring it, sweetheart."

And thus began round two of your very complicated, very flirty, very mutual war.

Only difference was...

You were now the one blushing first.

Got married by accident… Thanks, Vegapunk?

You and Luffy accidentally get married by a hyper-intelligent vending machine on Egghead Island. The crew takes it way too seriously, but Luffy is surprisingly into it.

LUFFY X GN!READER | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, acc!dental marriage, ooc a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 706

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Egghead Island sparkled like something out of a futuristic dream. Or a nightmare. Depending on who you asked.

Laser drones zipped overhead, holographic sharks swam through the air, and the vending machines charged a 40% service fee to flirt with you.

You were already over it.

“What the hell is this?” you asked, staring at the sleek, metal screen of a suspicious-looking marriage kiosk that had popped out of a wall.

"CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR NUPTIAL INTEREST!" it blared.

You winced. “Nope. Not interested.”

Behind you, Luffy was already poking the glowing buttons like a toddler with a remote. “Oooh! What’s this do?”

“Don’t press that.”

He pressed it.

A beam of golden light scanned the both of you. "MATCH ACCEPTED," it beeped. “YOU ARE NOW LEGALLY MARRIED UNDER VEGAPUNK CODE 6.66 SUB-SECTION WE BALL.”

You blinked. “…What.”

Luffy blinked. “Cool.”

He grabbed your hand with that signature, easy grin. “We’re married now! Sweet!”

“LUFFY—”

Twenty seconds later, the rest of the crew found out.

Chopper: “You guys WHAT!?”

Sanji: (sobbing) “WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, Y/N-CWAAAAN!?”

Robin: (smiling behind a book) “How lovely. I hope it was a beautiful ceremony.”

Zoro: “Of course you two would get hitched by a vending machine.”

Franky: “THIS IS SUPER!! WE GOTTA THROW A RECEPTION!!”

Jinbei: (serene) “I’ll call this divine destiny.”

Usopp: “Waitwaitwait—do we all have to get married now?? Is it contagious?!”

Nami, arms crossed, was the only one who looked vaguely sensible. “We’re not on a honeymoon, you idiots. We’re on a mission. Can’t believe you got fake-married on an island run by six genius maniacs.”

“It’s not fake,” Luffy said proudly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“It’s legally binding,” the vending machine added.

“LUFFY,” you groaned, facepalming. “We are not actually married—”

“But you held my hand,” he said with a pout.

“I was trying to stop you from pressing the stupid buttons!”

“But you didn’t let go shishishi” he added.

You were going to kill him. Or maybe yourself. Or maybe the vending machine.

Over the next few days, the crew refused to let it go.

Nami “accidentally” started assigning you and Luffy shared quarters.

Franky built a honeymoon hover-chair for two that followed you around and played romantic music at inopportune moments.

Brook wrote a song called “Wedded Bliss on a Warped Island” and played it constantly.

Zoro made gagging noises every time you entered a room.

Even Vegapunk Stella got involved.

“Fascinating bond signature,” he mused, looking at the machine’s readings. “Unusual compatibility levels. Perhaps a cosmic entanglement. Or just dumb luck.”

You were ready to drown in holographic seagull juice.

Luffy didn’t help.

He insisted on calling you "my spouse."

He’d hold your hand while walking down the lab halls like it was the most casual thing ever.

He used you as a pillow during naps—okay, not new behavior—but now he’d nuzzle your shoulder and murmur, “This is what married people do.”

You tried to zap him with a soft stun from your energy-based power.

He laughed and asked for more.

He started sharing his food.

You shared back.

He offered you half his meat skewer.

You offered him half your fruit cube.

You even started sitting next to him at dinner on purpose.

...You were doomed.

One night, while stuck in a laser barrier room together (thanks to Luffy pressing another suspicious button), things got quiet.

“Hey, Y/N,” Luffy said, lying next to you on the cold sci-fi floor.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna be married for real someday?”

You paused.

“With… you?”

“Yeah.”

You turned to face him. “You don’t even know what marriage is.”

He smiled, soft and crooked. “I know it means I get to be with you all the time.”

You blinked. Your powers, which usually sparked when you were annoyed or overwhelmed, glimmered gently around your fingertips like starlight instead.

You didn’t respond. Just nudged his leg with yours.

He took that as a yes.

The next day, the machine short-circuited itself trying to process “divorce.”

You pretended to be annoyed.

But when Luffy yelled, “Don’t worry, I didn’t want a divorce anyway!!” and tackled you into a hug, your powers sparked again—glowing soft blues and pinks this time.

And you let him hold you.

CLINGY MUCH? | ONE SHOT

Shanks x GN!Reader

Zoro x GN!Reader

Mihawk x GN!Reader

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

tags: sfw, fluff, soft, ooc(?)

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

SHANKS

You were many things aboard the Red Force—calm, sharp-tongued, and painfully unbothered by Shanks’ endless antics.

You were also completely unaware of the fact that the most feared (and flirted-with) captain in the New World couldn’t seem to stop touching you.

Not in a creepy way. Not even in a romantic way… at least, not that you noticed.

He’d toss an arm around your shoulders like it was a habit. Rest his hand on your waist when laughing. Tug you into his side when something “dangerous” happened, like a slightly aggressive breeze or a seagull flying too low.

You just chalked it up to him being Shanks.

Until, one bright morning, the crew decided enough was enough.

It started with Benn Beckman sighing dramatically as he walked onto the deck.

“Do you two need a room or something?”

You blinked from where you stood, arms crossed. “We’re not even doing anything.”

Benn pointed. “His hand has been on your lower back for ten minutes.”

Shanks blinked down at his own hand like it betrayed him. “Huh. Didn’t even notice.”

You raised a brow. “Are you okay? Do you have tactile issues?”

Lucky Roux snorted as he passed by with a turkey leg. “Yeah, it’s called ‘falling for someone and not knowing what to do with your hands.’”

Shanks turned red. You remained… utterly unaffected.

“Touch-starved pirate disease,” Lime Juice muttered, jotting fake notes like a doctor. “Tragic. Symptoms include: prolonged physical contact, excessive grinning, and spontaneous cuddling in public.”

Hongo popped his head out of the crow’s nest. “I saw him brush your hair behind your ear during the storm last week.”

“That was because it got in their face,” Shanks defended.

You nodded. “He didn’t want me to get stabbed by my own bangs. Very heroic.”

“You’re wearing a braid,” Yasopp called from the helm.

A long pause.

“…Okay, I’m not good with excuses,” Shanks muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His hand bumped yours in the process.

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “Captain.”

“Yes?”

“You’re touching me again.”

“...I genuinely didn’t notice DAHAHAHA.”

The crew erupted into laughter.

You blinked slowly and glanced down at your joined hands, then back up at him. “You’ve been holding my hand for a minute now. You good?”

“Maybe.”

You stared.

He stared.

“…You’re kinda warm,” he added, grinning.

“I’m wearing gloves.”

“Exactly. Impressive.”

You didn’t smile, but your voice was flat with dry humor. “You wanna marry me, too? Get it over with?”

Shanks choked. “Whoa—what?”

“You’re already touching me like I’m your lover. Might as well commit.”

The crew howled.

“I’m starting to like them more than you, Cap,” Benn said, lighting a cigar.

“They’ve got more bite,” Lime Juice grinned.

Lucky Roux offered you a celebratory turkey leg like a sword. “You just proposed better than he ever could.”

You calmly took it, giving a single nod. “Thanks. I accept my own proposal.”

Shanks was still frozen. “Wait, are we actually engaged now?”

You took a slow bite of the turkey leg, deadpan. “Keep touching me like that, and you’ll owe me alimony.”

ZORO

You were minding your own business—arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, back leaned slightly against the Sunny’s railing—when a familiar weight thunked into your side.

Again.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t glance, didn’t even blink. Just spoke.

“Zoro.”

“What.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what.”

“Treating me like a living chair.”

He grunted. “You’re stable. And not annoying.”

“That’s a compliment?” you asked, still deadpan.

“Take it or leave it.”

The crew had noticed. Of course they had. This was the sixth day in a row Zoro had casually latched onto you like a sleepy barnacle.

“Oi, mosshead!” Sanji snapped, appearing from the galley with smoke swirling and a righteous fury in his eyes. “Get off them, you clingy cucumber!”

Zoro cracked open an eye. “Make me.”

“Oh, I will!” Sanji stomped over dramatically. “Y/N-chwaann shouldn’t have to carry your freeloading swordsman body weight! If anyone deserves to be close to them, it’s me!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You literally tripped into my lap yesterday trying to ‘tie your shoe.’ You were barefoot.”

“It was a metaphor!” Sanji cried. “For falling head over heels!”

Zoro scoffed. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Says the mossy limpet glued to their side like a touchy fungus!”

Zoro didn’t move. “Jealousy’s not a good look, curly.”

“You—!!”

“Guys,” Nami sighed, “can’t we go one day without turning affection into a shouting match?”

Brook leaned on his cane, chuckling. “Yohohoho! Young love… or something!”

Usopp squinted. “Wait. Has Zoro always been this clingy with Y/N?”

Robin smiled mysteriously. “Since thriller bark, at least.”

Franky nodded solemnly. “Saw him fall asleep on their shoulder mid-battle once. SUPER unconscious.”

“I thought he was dead,” Chopper added, horrified. “Turns out he was just really comfy.”

Zoro’s grip on your shoulder tightened very slightly, and you finally glanced sideways at him.

“Do you know you’re this touchy?” you asked.

He looked like he wanted to evaporate into the deck. “I… just don’t mind you being close.”

You blinked slowly. “Is that samurai code for ‘I like you’?”

Sanji audibly gagged. “Oi! Don’t flirt in front of me!”

“We’re not flirting,” you said.

Zoro mumbled, “Might be.”

Sanji died inside.

“Y/N-chwann” he said gravely, dropping to one knee. “I beg of you—pick me instead! I would never lean on you like a sweaty tree log!”

Zoro growled. “Because you’d faint from being close.”

“AT LEAST I’D DIE HANDSOME!”

You looked between the two of them and sighed.

“I just want to drink my tea without being fought over,” you muttered, walking off—Zoro immediately following, like a shadow with swords.

“You’re still touching me,” you noted.

“Didn’t say I’d stop,” he replied casually.

You stopped walking, turned, and looked him square in the eye.

“You’re aware this is very couple-coded, right?”

He blinked, then grunted. “Guess we should make it official then.”

You blinked right back. “That was fast.”

“Why waste time.”

You smirked just a little. “Romantic.”

He shrugged. “You’re warm. And you don’t talk too much.”

“That’s your idea of a proposal?”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

From behind you, Sanji dramatically screamed into the ocean.

MIHAWK

Kuraigana Island was a wasteland of stone, wind, and uncomfortable silences. You didn’t mind. You were the type to thrive in eerie places — quiet, observant, and allergic to nonsense.

Which is probably why Mihawk didn’t bother with small talk.

Or... so you thought.

Lately, the world’s greatest swordsman had developed a habit of materializing wherever you were. You’d be cleaning a blade — and there he was, pouring tea. You’d sit on the crumbling stone wall for some air — and there he’d be, suddenly trimming the overgrown vines right next to you.

At first, you thought it was coincidence.

Until today.

“...You know you don’t have to sharpen every one of my knives,” you said flatly, watching him work silently at the bench beside you.

“I didn’t,” Mihawk replied, still honing the blade. “Only the dull ones.”

You blinked. “That was my butter knife.”

“Then it was very dull.”

From the far side of the ruins, Zoro grunted as he finished a set of squats. “He refilled their canteen twice this morning.”

“Once,” Mihawk corrected, still not looking up.

“Twice,” Zoro insisted. “Once after breakfast. Then again after they just looked at the sink.”

Perona floated down with a snort. “He also folded their coat. While they were still wearing it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Is that why my sleeves were shorter for a second?”

“You had a wrinkle.”

“I always have a wrinkle.”

Mihawk looked up with that unreadable expression. “And now you don’t.”

Zoro huffed. “What even is this? He acts like a butler. But like, a scary one.”

Mihawk narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m not a butler.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Perona muttered, arms crossed. “You fixed the strap on their satchel too.”

Mihawk didn’t respond to that.

Perona raised a brow. “You gonna deny it?”

“No,” Mihawk said coolly, “because it was crooked.”

Zoro leaned against a stone pillar, towel around his neck. “He also moved your seat at the dining table.”

“That was my seat,” you said.

Mihawk finally gave you a long, side glance. “You’ve sat on the left for the past four mornings. I simply ensured it remained consistent.”

You deadpanned. “You rearranged the furniture.”

“Briefly.”

Zoro stared. “And when they tripped over that vine—”

“I cut the vine before they fell,” Mihawk snapped with a tone just shy of defensive.

“Bro. You lunged across the courtyard.”

Mihawk sipped his wine calmly. “It was in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And when you pulled me by the hood into the shade the other day?”

“You were overheating.”

“I wasn’t sweating.”

“You were blinking slowly.”

You stared. “That’s just how I blink.”

There was a long pause.

Then Perona gasped. “Wait, wait — you also fixed the strap on their scabbard!”

“I adjusted it. The weight distribution was uneven.”

Zoro clapped once, grinning. “So you are clingy.”

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed, the glint in them sharp and dangerous. “I am not.”

You leaned your chin on your hand, amused. “Then what would you call this?”

He paused. “Awareness.”

Perona lost it. “You mean hyper-awareness. Of one (1) person.”

Mihawk ignored her. “It’s strategic. I simply ensure you're at your most efficient.”

“That’s not efficiency,” Zoro said, wiping his forehead. “That’s doting.”

Mihawk arched a brow. “You think a swordsman cannot be observant?”

“You folded their laundry in order of fabric weight.”

“They prefer it that way.”

You blinked. “I never said that.”

He side-eyed you, expression cool. “You didn’t need to.”

You blinked again.

Zoro grunted. “You see? He’s acting like we’re all weird for noticing.”

Perona jabbed a finger toward him. “He's totally doing the ‘if I act calm, no one will notice I'm obsessed’ thing.”

Mihawk finally gave a soft, tired sigh — the kind that said you people are exhausting.

Then, turning to you, he asked, “Would you like tea?”

“I haven’t said I was thirsty.”

He didn’t blink. “You will be.”

You stared. “Are you psychic?”

“No,” he said simply. “You’re predictable.”

You squinted. “...That sounds like flirting.”

Mihawk blinked slowly. “I don’t flirt.”

Perona groaned. “OH MY GOD—”

Mihawk stood up, cloak sweeping behind him, expression unreadable as always. He held out the canteen like he’d already won this conversation.

You took it with narrowed eyes, muttering, “Thanks... I guess.”

He nodded, calm as ever. “You’re welcome.”

Zoro crossed his arms. “Still denying it?”

Mihawk looked at all of them — then at you — and with perfect poise said,

“I’m just efficient.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

You stared after him, took a sip from the canteen, and sighed.

“…Efficiently annoying.”

Sugar & Spite

One stolen moment, one shared night, and a love neither of you saw coming—proving that even the coldest bonds can bloom into something warm.

(CH 1/3) (CH 2/3) (CH 3/3)

katakuri x fem!reader a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc tags: sfw, arrange marriage, enemies to lovers typeshi(?), fluff warnings: poorly written, ooc maybe idk words count: 1.3k

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It was strange, waking up and realizing you didn’t hate him anymore.

Stranger still? Realizing he’d never hated you either.

After the merienda incident, things shifted in quiet, deliberate ways. Katakuri started coming back to the suite earlier. You noticed the scarf coming off more often. Sometimes, he didn’t even bother tying it back on at all when it was just the two of you.

You began training together in the mornings and winding down together at night — not with arguments, but silence, companionable and calm.

One evening, you both ended up sprawled on the same couch — you flipping through a book, him finishing his tea.

You felt his gaze on you more often now. Less guarded. More curious.

"You always this quiet when you're not teasing me?" you asked, voice soft.

"You prefer the teasing?"

You smiled, just a little. "Maybe."

He watched you, his expression unreadable. “You're not what I expected.”

You leaned your head back. “Good or bad?”

“…Good.”

A beat of silence passed before he added, “You saw my face. You didn’t laugh. You didn’t flinch.”

You turned to him. “Because I didn’t see a monster.”

His eyes softened. The silence between you grew warmer.

"Come here," he said suddenly.

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I want to show you something."

He reached for your hand, tugging gently. You followed him through the estate, through familiar halls now tinged with something new. Trust. Anticipation.

He led you to the garden where you’d caught him before — the sugar apple tree still blooming, a blanket laid out, steam rising from a fresh pot of tea. And donuts. Of course.

But this time, he didn't sit on the other side.

He sat beside you.

And when you looked at him — really looked — you found him already watching.

"You make it hard to keep walls up," he said, low and honest.

“Good,” you replied. “You don’t need them with me.”

A long pause passed before he reached out, fingers brushing your jaw. “May I?”

Your heart thudded once — loud, steady — and you nodded.

He leaned in. The kiss was slow. Gentle. A question you both already knew the answer to.

When you pulled apart, his hand lingered on your cheek.

"I didn’t want this marriage,” he whispered, “but I’m glad I got you.”

That night, something changed.

The couch between your futons disappeared. So did the futons.

You shared a bed for the first time — not out of obligation, but choice.

And in the quiet of the dark, when his hand found your waist and your breath caught in your throat, you realized how easily the cold could melt.

His lips found yours again, slower this time, deeper — less guarded. Your fingers curled in his hair, pulling the scarf loose, revealing the mouth you’d grown fond of.

He worshipped you like you were made of sugar and fire.

You returned the favor, gently, deliberately — showing him with every touch that he was wanted, that he was safe, that you weren’t going anywhere.

Soft sighs, heated whispers, and tangled limbs followed.

You didn’t fall asleep until hours later, curled against him, your head on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Y/N," he murmured, almost asleep.

"Yeah?"

“…'m glad you're here.”

A Few Years Later…

There were two sets of tiny feet running through the garden now.

A little girl with your eyes and Katakuri’s frown chased her brother, who was trying very hard to climb a tree — and failing spectacularly.

“Be careful!” you called, hands on your hips.

“Papa said I could!” the boy shouted.

You gave Katakuri a look. He shrugged from where he was lounging nearby, half a donut in his hand and an unbothered smile on his face.

“I said try, not succeed.”

You rolled your eyes and settled beside him. “They’re gonna break something.”

He glanced at you. “Like I broke my reputation falling for you?”

You blinked. “Did you just flirt with me?”

“…Maybe.”

You chuckled and leaned against him. “I liked it.”

He kissed the top of your head.

The children squealed in the background, fighting over who got the last donut.

You sighed. “They're exactly like you.”

“Smart, strong, and addicted to sugar?”

You snorted. “Exactly.”

He looked at you then, warm and full of pride. “I never imagined I'd have this.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“Neither did I.”

But you were glad you did.

BONUS SCENE:

You were only five months pregnant when the entire Big Mom household decided that you officially needed a twenty-four-hour protection detail.

Not because of enemy threats.

No — because you’d launched a fruit knife at Oven when he tried to touch your mochi-stuffed chocolate croissant.

It missed his ear by an inch.

“She’s hormonal,” Katakuri said flatly, standing behind you with his arms crossed and the most terrifyingly calm face in the room.

“I’m pregnant, not weak,” you muttered, throwing your legs over Katakuri’s lap and reaching for the aforementioned croissant. “Touch my food again and I’ll stab with accuracy next time.”

The room was silent.

Snack visibly gulped.

Perospero whispered something like “remind me never to get on her bad side” which made Katakuri shoot him a glare so sharp he nearly choked on his tongue.

“Don’t comment on my wife,” Katakuri said darkly, one hand resting protectively over your belly.

You grinned. “Aww. Look at you. Already a possessive dad.”

He cleared his throat and looked away.

You were used to him being ridiculously overprotective since you started showing. He’d physically moved an entire dinner table because he thought the seat was too close to the fire. When you sneezed, he’d almost called the family doctor. When your ankles started swelling, he threatened to drag Smoothie to personally drain the excess fluids from your legs.

It would’ve been annoying… if it wasn’t kind of adorable.

“You’re not allowed to walk without me,” he said one evening while tucking you into bed. “Or lift anything heavier than a spoon.”

You stared. “What about a fork?”

“…I’ll think about it.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m in love.”

That shut you up.

Because, yeah… he was. And so were you.

You went into labor a few weeks early.

Katakuri didn’t panic — but he did punch through a wall on the way to the birthing room. Cracker helped you get there while yelling at him to focus, while Smoothie held your hand and ordered everyone else out with a wave of her sword.

You refused to scream. You were too damn stubborn.

Instead, you gritted your teeth and glared at Katakuri every time the contractions hit. “This is your fault.”

He held your hand and nodded solemnly. “I know.”

“And if you ever breathe on me the wrong way again after this—”

“I won’t.”

“You better still want more kids after this.”

“…We’ll talk.”

The moment your first baby cried, everything stopped.

Katakuri froze — eyes wide, mouth open, like someone had just dropped the world in his lap.

You looked at your daughter, then at him.

He held her with the gentleness of a man who’d spent his whole life holding back — and was finally allowed to let go.

“She looks like you,” he whispered.

You smiled weakly, exhausted and dazed. “No, she’s prettier.”

He kissed your forehead, then your hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“For what?”

“For being mine.”

A Year Later…

“You’re sure she doesn’t have mochi powers?”

“I think she just likes chewing on her brother.”

Katakuri sighed as he watched your daughter nibble on her twin’s arm like a teething donut. You sipped your tea, watching them from the garden swing, belly already swelling with your third.

“You said you wanted a big family.”

“I didn’t know I’d be outnumbered.”

You smirked and leaned against his shoulder. “You’re a war general. You’ll survive.”

He kissed your temple, arms wrapping around you.

And in the sunlight, surrounded by kids, chaos, and too many donuts, the two of you found peace in the most unexpected place.

Each other.

Sugar & Spite

Shared silences, reluctant teamwork, and one very accidental merienda — things are slowly shifting between you and Katakuri, whether you like it or not.

(CH 1/3) (CH 2/3) (CH 3/3)

katakuri x fem!reader a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc tags: sfw, arrange marriage, enemies to lovers typeshi(?), fluff warnings: poorly written, ooc maybe idk words count: 767

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Married life, for all its dramatics, was remarkably uneventful.

You trained. He trained.

You ate. He ate — alone.

You slept on opposite sides of the suite, a whole couch separating your twin futons like it were a chasm made of disdain and mutual discomfort.

Still, the quiet had begun to change.

Not soften. Just… fill with different things.

You noticed it when you trained together.

At first, Katakuri wouldn’t spar with you — only watched from the sidelines with crossed arms and a face carved from stone.

But one morning, without a word, he stepped into the ring and beckoned.

You raised a brow. “You sure? Wouldn’t want to chip your perfect reputation.”

“Try not to die,” was all he said.

You lunged.

The fight lasted minutes. Sharp. Calculated. Brutal. Neither of you held back — not out of aggression, but something more primal. Something like curiosity. Respect hidden under heavy layers of sarcasm.

He pinned you once.

You flipped him once.

And by the time you both were catching your breath, you realized… this was the first time you’d looked him in the eye without wanting to throw a plate at his face.

It happened again the next day. And the next.

Soon, the guards were placing bets.

Another shift came during a mission.

You were sent together to oversee a transport of rare ingredients for Big Mom’s banquet — the sort of job usually given to siblings who worked well together.

You were not those siblings.

But despite the chilly atmosphere, the operation was smooth. Efficient. Maybe even too efficient, because when the job ended early, you found yourself in a quiet café at the edge of Totto Land.

Sharing tea.

“You always this quiet when not throwing punches?” you asked.

Katakuri sipped. “You always this nosy when not polishing your weapon?”

You snorted. “Fair.”

Silence. Then:

“…You’re not bad in the field.”

You blinked.

“…You too,” you replied cautiously, like the words were delicate glass.

Then, dryly: “Though you’re kind of a pain.”

His mouth twitched.

Was that a smile?

You blinked and looked away.

Nah. Must’ve been the wind.

It happened the next afternoon.

You came back to the estate early, your footsteps light, mind still buzzing from the strange calm that had started forming between you two. You hadn’t seen Katakuri since morning. Probably training. Or brooding.

You turned the corner of the west hall and—

Crunch.

You froze.

There he was.

Not in battle stance. Not dressed for war.

Just… sitting under the shade of a sugar apple tree in the inner garden, cross-legged on a blanket, a tall pile of donuts beside him.

Mouth uncovered.

Eyes closed.

Chewing slowly, almost in bliss, like he was savoring the flavor with his whole soul.

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then, without thinking, your boot tapped a rock.

His head snapped toward you.

Time stopped.

You met his eyes. His real ones. Clear, sharp — and full of horror.

He reached for his scarf too late.

“You—” he started, standing up so quickly the plate of donuts nearly flipped. “You weren’t supposed to—”

“What, see you enjoying your afternoon snacks?” you said slowly.

His face hardened. “Don’t mock me.”

You crossed your arms. “Why would I mock you?”

“You’re going to tell the others. Or laugh. Or—”

You tilted your head. “You’re kinda handsome.”

He froze.

“What?”

“I said,” you repeated, unfazed, “you’re kinda handsome.”

“You—”

“Don’t get cocky. I said kinda.”

He gaped at you like you’d grown a second head. You, in turn, gave him a blank stare as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Then added, just to twist the knife: “Your mouth is a little big, though.”

“You—!!”

You smirked, turning to walk away.

“Wait.”

His voice was quieter now. Not angry. Confused. Almost… vulnerable.

You turned back.

He looked at you like you were a puzzle with missing pieces. Like he didn’t understand why you weren’t disgusted. Why you weren’t laughing.

“You’re not gonna say anything?”

You shrugged. “Not my business. But hey—”

You tossed a donut from his plate into the air, caught it, and took a bite.

“—thanks for the snack.”

He stared.

You winked.

And then left him there, standing under the tree, mouth still slightly agape, eyes tracking the place where you’d stood.

That night, for the first time, you found a small box of freshly made donuts placed carefully on your side of the suite.

No note.

Just a silent offering.

You smiled faintly and popped one into your mouth.

Maybe this marriage wouldn’t be so cold after all.

Sugar & Spite

Forced into an arranged marriage, you and Katakuri are bound by name but not by heart — and certainly not by patience.

(CH 1/3) (CH 2/3) (CH 3/3)

katakuri x fem!reader a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff cringe and oc tags: sfw, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers typeshi(?) warnings: poorly written, ooc maybe idk word count: 539

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The wedding had been painfully formal — too many flowers, too many eyes, and not nearly enough escape routes. You stood beside Charlotte Katakuri like a statue, your fingers locked at your front, refusing to even brush against his hand.

You could feel the judgment. The curiosity. The pity.

You were the outsider. The political pawn.

And he?

He was the perfect son.

Powerful. Respected. Feared.

You didn’t even like donuts.

The wedding ended with hollow applause and a shared bow. No kiss. Not even a glance. Just the stiff, practiced movements of two people doing their duty.

Now, days later, the newlywed suite might as well have been a battlefield drawn in invisible lines.

He sat at the far edge of the room, sipping tea and glaring at a book like it had insulted his mother. You lounged on the couch, polishing your weapon with a cloth, utterly unbothered.

"You’re getting the floor dirty,” he muttered without looking up.

You didn’t even pause. “You’re getting the air tense.”

A beat of silence.

“You always this disrespectful?”

You shrugged. “Only when I’m right.”

Katakuri exhaled sharply. Not quite a sigh. More like frustration being carefully filed down into indifference.

It was always like this.

A dance of verbal jabs, curt nods, polite venom.

You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. Maybe because he was good at being cold. Too good. No cracks. No warmth. You weren’t looking for love — the marriage had nothing to do with that — but the least he could do was treat you like a person instead of a contract.

The only time you had seen a flicker of humanity was during training. You'd passed by the sparring ring the day after the wedding and found him mid-battle with Oven — fluid, ruthless, and sharp.

He didn’t know you were watching.

And maybe that’s why he looked... alive.

But here, back in the room, he was stone again.

“You don’t have to try so hard to ignore me, you know,” you said, resting your chin on your hand. “I already know you didn’t want this marriage.”

He glanced at you, eyes unreadable.

“I didn’t say that.”

“No. You just act like it.”

That earned you a long stare. Then, calmly: “I don’t waste energy on things I can’t change.”

You smirked. “Wow. And here I thought you just didn’t like me.”

“…I don’t.”

That made you laugh, just a little. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with shared annoyance and something else — something that hadn’t settled yet.

You eventually stood up and dusted off your coat. “I’ll be in the training yard.”

He didn’t respond, so you paused in the doorway.

“For the record,” you said, glancing back, “you’re not the only one who didn’t want this. But I don’t see the point in wasting it, either.”

That made his brows lift slightly. A rare reaction.

“Who said I’m wasting it?” he asked quietly.

You looked at him for a long moment. He didn’t look smug. Just… still.

The question didn’t sound like a challenge.

It sounded like a mystery.

You didn’t have an answer — not yet — so you gave a half-smile and walked off.

Fractures in the Silence

When a moment of anger turns into a lasting scar, both Shanks and the one he loves must learn how to heal from wounds they never meant to inflict.

shanks x reader ౨ৎ🖤 ONE SHOT

main characters: shanks

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

tags: angst, sfw, angst with comfort

words count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The tavern was loud with laughter, the scent of spiced rum and sea salt thick in the air. The evening had started light, stories swapping like currency, the Red-Haired Pirates gathered together in their floating haven. You leaned against the wall, watching them with a small, fond smile. Shanks’ voice rang louder than the rest, that familiar carefree grin on his face — but there was tension in his shoulders tonight. Something was off.

You knew him better than most did. The way his laughter faltered half a second too soon, how his jaw clenched when no one was looking. It wasn’t the drink. It was something heavier. A rumor? A betrayal? You weren’t sure.

But it was only a matter of time before it boiled over.

“Captain,” Benn Beckman’s voice was low, cautious. “We can deal with this later.”

Shanks scoffed, slamming his cup down on the table hard enough to spill rum across the wood. “Later’s too damn late.”

You stepped forward, reaching for his arm gently. “Hey,” you murmured, “whatever it is, it’s not worth losing your head over tonight. You’ll handle it. You always do.”

But his eyes — dark, stormy, and burning with a mix of anger and helplessness — didn’t soften. Not like they usually did when you spoke to him. Not this time.

And then it happened. Too fast to stop it.

His hand shot out, sharp and unthinking, an open palm meant for the air — a gesture born from frustration, meant to chase away his demons, not hurt you.

But you were too close.

The slap connected with your cheek, a crack splitting the room’s noise in two. The sting bloomed instantly, white-hot against your skin. A sharp, horrible silence swallowed the room whole.

Shanks froze.

His eyes widened in horror, color draining from his face as if he couldn’t comprehend what his own hand had done. You blinked at him, your own shock mirrored in his expression, your skin throbbing.

“I—” his voice broke, barely a whisper. “Y/N…”

You forced a tight, almost too-wide smile, the taste of copper on your tongue. “It’s fine,” you said too quickly, waving a hand like you could swat away the moment. “Just… an accident. No big deal.”

But you saw it in his face. The guilt. The way his hand trembled as he lowered it. The way his whole body seemed to recoil from itself.

Benn Beckman stood up then, murmuring something about giving you both space as the rest of the crew quietly filed out, heavy boots against wood the only sound in the suffocating quiet.

You didn’t look at Shanks. Not when the world was spinning, not when you felt too much and too little all at once.

“You should sit,” he rasped, voice frayed.

“I’m fine.”

But you weren’t.

And for the days that followed, you kept pretending.

The bruise faded quickly enough, but the damage didn’t. Not the kind you could see.

Every time Shanks lifted his hand to run it through his hair, to gesture wildly in a story, to reach for you — you flinched.

It was a small thing, barely noticeable if you weren’t looking for it. But he saw it every time. And every time it cut deeper than any blade could.

He stopped raising his hands altogether.

Stopped reaching.

And the distance between you, once so easy, so natural, stretched like a wound neither of you could name.

“Y/N,” he tried, days later, as you sat alone on the deck under a half-lit sky.

You didn’t look up. Couldn’t.

“I… I need to say something.”

You forced a weak smile, pulling your knees to your chest. “You don’t have to. It was an accident. I get it.”

“But you’re scared of me.”

The words cracked in his throat like breaking glass. You finally looked up, meeting his gaze — and saw it. The raw, aching guilt in his eyes. The weight he’d been carrying since that night.

“I’m not scared of you,” you lied.

His shoulders sagged. “Y/N… please. Don’t… don’t lie to me.”

Your throat tightened. “I’m not scared of you. I just…” You trailed off, closing your eyes as the memory hit you again, unbidden. The sting. The shock. The way your body instinctively flinched when he moved too quickly now, no matter how much you told yourself it wasn’t real.

“I hate that I did this to you,” he whispered. “I swear on my life — on the sea, on everything I am — I never wanted to hurt you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, hot and blinding. “I know.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with all the things neither of you could say.

“I love you, Y/N,” Shanks said quietly. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never have a reason to flinch around me again.”

You swallowed, wiping your cheek roughly. “I love you too, you stupid idiot.”

A broken, shaky laugh escaped him then — the first real sound in days. He didn’t move closer, didn’t reach for you. Instead, he sat a few feet away, letting the space stay. Letting you control it.

“Can I tell you a story?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

And so he talked. About old battles, about mistakes, about fear and fury and the weight of being captain. About how sometimes anger takes the shape of something monstrous when you’re too exhausted to hold it in.

About how it doesn’t excuse anything.

But how it could maybe, one day, be forgiven.

By the time the sun rose, the space between you felt a little less jagged.

Weeks passed. It wasn’t perfect. You still flinched sometimes. Shanks still froze every time you did. But little by little, the distance closed.

The first time he reached for your hand again, he moved slow — giving you every chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

His calloused fingers brushed yours gently, and your heart stuttered. But you didn’t flinch.

“You okay?” he murmured.

You nodded. “I’m okay.”

And you were.

Not all the way. Not yet.

But enough to hold on.

Enough to let him stay.

Enough to know you’d both heal, slowly, piece by piece, in the quiet places between the crashing waves.

And maybe one day, the memory would stop hurting.

But for now, his hand in yours was enough.

It was hope.

So I was watching Supernatural the other day, and I was wondering what would the Strawhats think about a reader who is a supernatural hunter also Sanji might have a big crush on her?🤭

hii, this would be a great fic, but sorry >< i havent watch the supernatural yet t~t. but in some other time ill try to watch some of it so i can make ur req soon

ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ

Strings in Crimson

When our enigmatic Y/n accidentally lands in Dressrosa, it sets off a chain of chaos, power displays, and dangerously intoxicating tension with Donquixote Doflamingo.

PART 2 OF READER WHO CAN USE THE INFINITY STONES

doflamingo x reader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

main characters: doflamingo

tags: sfw, v!ol3nce

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

words count: 786

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Dressrosa was too bright.

Even from the moment you stepped onto the sun-bleached cobblestones, the place reeked of forced cheer. Laughter too loud, colors too vibrant. Like a festival that refused to end. You hated it immediately.

You’d landed by accident — or as close to an accident as someone like you could. Space liked to rip when you snapped your fingers too hard. One careless flick, a shimmer of stars, and there you were. Smack in the middle of the city square while a nearby woman screamed about her missing child.

You sighed.

A blonde in pink feathers clocked you instantly. It was impossible not to. Tall and lean, Donquixote Doflamingo practically radiated threat.

“Fufufufu~ well, well,” he crooned from above, perched like a smug vulture on a balcony. “A new face. And what a face.”

You didn’t answer. Not out of caution. You just didn’t care.

Instead, you turned a nearby pigeon into a tiny floating star just to see if you could.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Doflamingo’s grin sharpened.

In a blur, he appeared before you, a slash of color and power.

“Name,” he demanded.

“Y/n.”

“Devil Fruit user?”

“No.”

He tilted his head, intrigued. “Then what the hell are you? fufufufu~”

You glanced at the ground. It cracked under your gaze, spreading like glass under a hammer.

“Complicated.”

A chuckle. Low, dangerous. “I like complicated.”

He brought you to his palace. You let him. Not because you trusted him, but because you were bored.

His executives bristled. Trebol whined about taking in strays, Pica rumbled disapproval, Diamante preened. You ignored them all. Your presence was a storm in still air, and they felt it, even if they didn’t understand why.

“Test them,” Doflamingo ordered, one hand languidly swirling wine.

Buffalo charged first.

You didn’t move.

A thought, and space folded. He disappeared with a yelp, reappearing upside down, tangled in the palace’s chandelier.

Gladius tried next.

You blinked. His exploding fists paused mid-detonation, the tiny fragments suspended in mid-air.

“Cute trick,” you murmured, then rewound time by a second, leaving him disoriented and vomiting from vertigo.

The room fell silent.

Doflamingo leaned forward, interest gleaming.

“You could kill them all.”

You shrugged. “Could.”

“And me?”

A small, crooked smile tugged at your lips. “Wouldn’t be polite.”

He laughed. A real one. Not the shrill cackle, but something darker, lower.

“You’re mine now.”

“No.”

“Eventually.”

You poured yourself a drink, letting reality bend just slightly to fill the glass from a bottle across the room.

Weeks passed.

You became a ghost in the palace, appearing where you pleased, vanishing when bored. You rewound time to catch falling glasses, bent space to avoid dull conversations. The staff flinched when you passed. Doflamingo watched you with something dangerous, something almost fond.

He’d invite you to dinners you rarely attended. When you did, it was chaos.

Once, a rival warlord visited. He made the mistake of grabbing your wrist.

You didn’t react.

He blinked — and found himself standing in the middle of the sea, a thousand yards offshore.

Doflamingo’s grin nearly split his face.

“That was a gift,” he told you later, eyes gleaming.

You shrugged. “Didn’t like him.”

Neither did Doflamingo.

Trouble came in the form of a foreign warlord and a double-crossed deal. Not one for subtlety, the fool marched right into Dressrosa’s palace with a small army and a head full of bad ideas.

You found Doflamingo in the gardens, pristine and grinning, standing atop a mound of broken bodies like a crimson-clad god, not a scratch on him as enemies circled, too stupid to realize their doom.

“Care for a hand?” you asked mildly.

He bared his teeth in a grin. “Thought you’d never offer.”

You raised a hand. Reality convulsed.

Half the enemy force vanished into a pocket dimension of black nothingness. The rest scrambled, confusion thick in the air.

One bold lieutenant lunged. You tilted your head, and the man’s soul flickered visibly from his body — a ghostly echo you plucked between your fingers like a thread and snapped.

Doflamingo whistled, low. "You are a vicious thing."

“I get bored.”

Within minutes, the garden was a graveyard of twisted perceptions — enemies trapped in loops of false victories, others suspended mid-air like grotesque marionettes.

You dusted off your coat. "Clean enough?"

Doflamingo stepped over a dying man, his grin sharp and fond. “Marry me.”

“Pass."

He chuckled, licking blood from his teeth. "You’ll come around."

You would, maybe. Or not.

But for now, you flexed space one last time, leaving the remnants of the coup in a shivering bubble of frozen time, an unbroken reminder of what it meant to cross either of you.

Perfect pair

Y/n lands on the forsaken island of Kuraigana, crossing paths with the world’s greatest swordsman, Dracule Mihawk.

PART 1 OF READER WHO CAN USE THE INFINITY STONES

dracule mihawk x reader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

main characters: mihawk

tags: fluff, sfw, soft, lots of v!ol3nce

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

words count: 968

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Kuraigana Island was a corpse of a land.

Fog hung like a wet cloth. Gnarled trees clawed at a grey sky. Castles lay in ruin. Crows perched on broken battlements, staring like tiny, judgmental gods. The humandrills lurked in the shadows, half-watching, half-measuring you with the unsettling intelligence of creatures that knew too much and bowed to nothing.

You arrived with no fanfare — a split in space, a ripple in air, and there you stood.

The swordsman was already waiting.

Golden eyes sharp as his blade, Dracule Mihawk took you in without surprise. Just a flick of his gaze, the briefest narrowing of lids.

“You’re not from here.”

“...”

A beat. Then a faint smirk.

“State your business.”

You glanced around. The entire island radiated don’t bother, but you liked the silence.

“Needed a place to land.”

Mihawk regarded you a moment longer, then turned away.

“Don’t get in my way.”

You didn’t answer. You never did.

There he stood, placing the wine aside. Up close, he was taller than you expected, broad-shouldered and impossibly composed, moving like liquid death. The sort of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to command a room.

“I don’t know where you came from,” he said, approaching with unhurried grace, “but I can tell you this island is no place for a traveler. It devours the weak.”

“I’m not weak.”

Something in his eyes sharpened. “Prove it.”

A sword materialized in his hand—a black-bladed cross almost as tall as you were.

You didn’t blink.

He smirked, and in a blur of movement, brought the blade down.

You raised a hand.

The world stuttered. Time hiccupped.

His strike slowed to a crawl, the blade inches from your face.

“Cute,” you murmured, tilting your head. You could feel the hum of cosmic power rising within you.

With a flick of your wrist, you stepped out of sync with the moment. Time resumed, his blade cleaving harmlessly through empty air.

You were leaning against a column now.

“Done?” you asked, voice flat.

Mihawk turned, eye narrowing. A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth.

“Well, Aren’t you interesting.”

Days bled together.

Mihawk didn’t ask you to leave, and you didn’t offer. He trained in the ruins. You wandered. A routine of unspoken tolerance.

Occasionally, the hum of his blade slicing the mist would pause as you flexed space to pluck fruit from high branches, reversed time to catch a falling stone before it shattered, or made entire sections of the crumbling wall rebuild themselves just for fun.

Once, a particularly bold baboon lunged at you. Mihawk turned just in time to see it dissolve into stardust.

You held its still-beating heart in your palm for a moment, then let it fall.

The humandrills kept their distance after that.

He said nothing, but his eyes followed you longer after that.

He asked about your powers one evening, rare curiosity threading his tone.

You sat by a fire you didn’t need, lazily manipulating the flame into twisting shapes.

“Are you a god?”

You considered it. “Complicated.”

He hummed. “Good. I hate gods.”

The corner of your mouth twitched. “Noted.”

Tension hung between you like fine wire. Neither speaking it. Neither breaking it.

When pirates landed, drunk on courage and legends of Mihawk’s title, you watched from a stone wall.

Twenty men.

They charged.

Mihawk moved like death made flesh, blade a dark glimmer. He cut through them like wind through leaves.

One survivor crawled toward you, gasping, reaching.

You tilted your head.

The man froze. His body peeled apart into strings of light, unraveling like an old tapestry.

Mihawk watched, bloodied and silent.

You met his gaze. “Messy work.”

He smirked. “Efficient.”

Weeks later, a storm hit.

Lightning split the sky. Waves devoured the shore.

A galleon, unfamiliar flag, shattered against the cliffs.

Mihawk and you stood at the shore. Bodies in the water. Survivors clinging to wreckage.

“Yours?” you asked.

He shook his head.

A captain, foolish and loud, cursed and called Mihawk out by name.

Mihawk’s blade lifted — but you stepped past him.

A simple gesture. A ripple in reality.

The ocean bent, swallowing the survivors. The ship’s remains vanished, leaving only empty, perfect water.

Silence.

“You stole my kill,” Mihawk said.

You shrugged. “They bored me.”

He stared at you a long moment, then laughed. Low, rare.

“Stay,” he said.

You did.

Because for once, you weren’t bored.

One dusky evening, Mihawk invited you on a hunt.

“A nuisance on a nearby island,” he said. “A former Warlord pretending to hold dominion.”

You quirked a brow. “And you need me?”

“I don’t need anyone,” he replied smoothly. “But you might amuse me.”

You smirked and stepped through a portal, Mihawk following.

The island was a lush jungle, overrun with hostile fauna and even more hostile men.

They expected Mihawk. They didn’t expect you.

One tried to cleave your head from behind.

You stopped time.

Walked around the frozen scene, plucking the man’s weapon away, rewinding his attempted strike into a trip and face-first fall into mud.

When time resumed, Mihawk didn’t flinch, but you caught the slight twitch of his lip.

“You enjoy showing off.”

“I enjoy being alive.”

You flicked a finger. Space warped around a group of enemies, their bodies crushed into a single, compacted orb of air before disappearing.

Mihawk cut down the rest, his precise strikes a sharp contrast to your cosmic chaos.

Afterward, the island was silent save for the wind and the cawing of carrion birds.

Mihawk sheathed his sword.

“You might be dangerous company.”

“You might be boring,” you countered.

Another smirk. “Then we’ll keep testing that.”

You stepped back into Kuraigana’s misty air together.

The humandrills stared harder than usual.

And you, for the first time in centuries, considered the notion of staying.

Sea Kings, Smart Mouths, and Stolen Hearts

A wandering scholar with the rare ability to read the Poneglyphs finds themselves entangled in the chaotic world of the Whitebeard Pirates.

PART 3 OF READER WHO CAN READ PONEGLYPH

whitebeard pirates x gn!reader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

main characters: Ace, Thatch, Izou, Marco

tags: fluff, sfw, harem, soft

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs cringe and oc

word count: 1.2k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Moby Dick was a floating temple of chaos.

You’d been on board for exactly three hours when you witnessed a fistfight over the last bottle of rum, a man juggling knives while drunk off his ass, and someone trying to arm-wrestle a literal sea king. And for some reason, every single one of them tried to rope you into it.

You were sitting on a barrel near the railing, minding your own damn business, when a piece of driftwood floated by — a small, smooth thing, carved with ancient script.

Your fingers twitched.

The words called to you. Whispered in a tongue long dead to the world. It was harmless, but old. You reached out, brushing your fingers over it, murmuring softly.

“Hey, what’re you doin’?”

You didn’t even flinch when the voice broke your concentration. You finished reading the last word before looking up. A man stood there, grin too big for his face, hair looks like bread, scar on side of his eye. He's sun-browned and scarred, and a bottle swung lazily in his hand.

“Talking to wood,” you said dryly.

He barked out a laugh. “Name’s Thatch. I like you already.”

“Is it because I didn’t scream?”

“Nope. It’s ‘cause you look like you’re about to either murder someone or seduce ‘em. That’s a rare vibe to pull off.”

You quirked a brow but said nothing. Thatch clapped you on the back anyway, nearly sending you overboard.

“C’mon,” he said. “You can sulk better at the fire.”

Dinner on the Moby Dick was less of a meal and more of a battle royale.

Men shouted, meat sizzled over open flames, and ale flowed like water. You sat at the edge of it, quietly nursing a cup of something that tasted like regret and old socks.

A man with fiery freckles and a grin to match dropped into the seat beside you. He immediately reached for your drink.

You grabbed his wrist without looking.

“Mine.”

He blinked, then grinned wider. “Name’s Ace. You’re the new one, huh?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “I’m the old one. I’ve just been invisible this whole time.”

Ace snorted. “Smartass.”

Thatch appeared behind him, slinging an arm around both your shoulders. “Told you, Ace — they’re my favorite.”

You were already plotting his demise.

It didn’t take long for the others to circle.

A man with long, flowing hair and sharp eyes introduced himself as Izou. He looked you up and down like you were a puzzle with missing pieces.

“You’re strange,” he said, not unkindly.

“Thanks.”

“I like strange.”

You raised your cup in salute.

And then there was Marco.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched you from across the fire, golden eyes flickering like dying embers. When he finally approached, you were standing alone on the deck, staring up at a sky so thick with stars it made your teeth ache.

“You’re not like them,” Marco said quietly.

“Observant.”

He smirked. “What’s your deal?”

You hesitated. But the truth felt easier here, in the dark.

“I read things,” you said. “Things I shouldn’t be able to. Ancient things.”

“Poneglyphs.”

You stiffened, and Marco’s smirk turned sharp.

“Relax,” he murmured. “Your secret’s safe. Pops wouldn’t give a damn. Most of us wouldn’t either.”

You eyed him. “And you?”

“I find it interesting.”

You snorted. “You would.”

His laugh was soft. “Smartmouth.”

The next day, some poor idiots tried to attack the Moby Dick.

They came in hot — four ships bristling with cannons and swords, foaming at the mouth about bounties and revenge. You barely blinked.

The crew went feral.

Ace leapt into the fray with fire on his heels, Thatch laughing as he tossed knives with deadly precision. Izou shot a man out of mid-air, unfazed as blood misted the deck.

One fool broke through the chaos and made a beeline for you.

“Oi, scholar!” he sneered. “You’re worth a fortune!”

You sighed.

Raising a hand, you spoke a word older than kingdoms, and the man’s sword crumbled to dust in his grip.

He paled.

You spoke again, and the air around him shimmered — his boots turned to brittle stone, cracking beneath him. The third word sent him flying backward with a force that shattered the nearest mast.

The crew went dead silent.

Ace let out a long, low whistle. “Yo.”

“Did you see that?” Thatch yelped. “That was badass.”

Izou eyed you like you’d just turned into his favorite thing.

Marco, perched on the highest beam, grinned.

“Not helpless, then.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hardly.”

After that, you became a sort of legend.

The scholar who spoke to stones and made enemies vanish with a word. The one even sea kings gave a wide berth.

And the harem started forming before you could stop it.

Thatch started bringing you food, drinks, and increasingly ridiculous trinkets (“This is a seashell shaped like a butt, you’re welcome.”).

Ace followed you everywhere. Literally everywhere. You once found him outside the bathroom.

“What,” you demanded.

He shrugged. “Felt like it.”

"tsk."

Izou taught you how to braid hair. His hands were surprisingly gentle for a man who could blow your head off without blinking.

And Marco? He made it worse.

Sitting beside you at night, speaking of things he shouldn’t remember. Old places, lost names. His hand brushing yours when no one was looking.

You should’ve run.

You didn’t.

And the comedy never stopped.

Like the time Ace tried to fight a giant crab to impress you and got pinched in a place no man should ever get pinched.

Or when Thatch bet you couldn’t outdrink him and passed out three shots in, leaving you to doodle a mustache on his face.

Or when Izou declared you’d look better in one of his kimonos and actually wrestled you into one. (It did look good. You never admitted it.)

Even Marco wasn’t safe. You caught him napping once, a seagull perched on his head. You didn’t tell him. You let it happen.

Then came the Poneglyph.

Buried in the heart of a ruined island, half-sunken beneath the sea. You felt it before you saw it — an ache in your chest, a pulse beneath your skin.

The crew followed you in.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Thatch muttered.

“Maybe ‘cause it’s cursed,” Ace said, poking a skull.

“Both of you shut up,” Izou hissed.

You found the slab in the heart of the ruin. Black stone, ancient words glowing faintly. It sang to you.

And like an idiot, you answered.

You spoke the words.

Power thrummed through the ground, the air, your bones. The sea roared. The sky cracked.

The world shifted.

When you opened your eyes, you were on your knees. Marco was crouched beside you, worry in his gaze.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah.”

“What did it say?”

You hesitated. “War’s coming.”

His jaw tightened.

But then Ace clapped you on the back, nearly toppling you. “If anyone’s startin’ a war with you on our side, they’re screwed.”

Thatch grinned. “Dibs on being your right-hand man.”

Izou smirked. “I call left.”

Marco chuckled. “I’ll be wherever you need me.”

You sighed. “You’re all idiots.”

But you didn’t feel alone anymore.

That night, on the deck beneath a sky bleeding silver, Marco sat beside you.

“You belong here, y’know,” he said quietly.

You didn’t answer.

“Not just as some scholar. As one of us.”

You stared at the sea. “Even if I’m dangerous?”

He shrugged. “So are we.”

He touched your hand, fingers curling around yours.

“Besides,” Marco added, a grin tugging at his lips, “you still owe me a drink.”

You smiled.

For the first time in years, it felt easy.

“Deal.”

You Punched a Yonko?

In which the reader, quietly trying to study Poneglyphs in peace, accidentally punches a Yonko and ends up entangled with the flirtatious chaos.

PART 2 OF READER WHO CAN READ PONEGLYPH

red hair pirates x fem!reader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

main characters: shanks, benn, limejuice, hongo

tags: fluff, sfw, harem, soft

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs cringe and oc

words count: 1.4k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You really weren’t trying to punch a Yonko.

In fact, your goal for the day was to peacefully study a centuries-old Poneglyph hidden beneath a sleepy island temple. Instead, you were now standing in front of a red-haired man grinning at you with blood trickling from his nose, surrounded by his crew, who all looked one second away from drawing their weapons.

“…Okay,” you breathed. “In my defense, you startled me.”

“You punched him in the face,” a blond man in sunglasses said, his voice straddling awe and amusement.

“Yeah, but like—accidentally.”

Shanks wiped his nose with the back of his hand, still smiling like you’d just offered him a drink. “DAHAHAHA strong punch though! You train often?”

“I didn’t know you were behind me! I thought you were a thief trying to steal the stone!” you pointed at the half-buried Poneglyph glowing faintly behind you. “You snuck up on me!”

Benn Beckman gave an exaggerated sigh from where he was puffing on his cigar. “He always does that.”

“You should wear a bell,” Hongo added dryly, as he examined your clenched fists. “You nearly broke his nose.”

“I think I’m in love,” Shanks muttered, still grinning at you like an idiot.

You blinked.

“…What?” You deadpan at him.

Lime Juice snorted. “I told you not to lean in so close when people are muttering to themselves. She was clearly in the zone.”

“I was reading an ancient, world-changing text,” you snapped, still frazzled. “I didn’t expect someone to breathe down my neck!”

“To be fair,” Benn chimed in smoothly, “not many people can actually read those things.”

That made you hesitate. Your breath caught in your chest. Most people only guessed at what the stones meant. And those who could decipher them—like the Ohara scholars—were erased for it.

The crew noticed your shift.

Shanks tilted his head. “Hey… you alright?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re being very casual about all this.”

“Well, you punched me.” He rubbed his jaw. “That kinda earns you a place at the table.”

“What table?”

“Our lunch table,” Lime Juice said, gesturing broadly to a blanket on the grass behind the trees. “We were picnicking. Captain wandered off to chase ‘Poneglyph energy.’”

“You tracked me?”

Shanks shrugged. “You glow like a beacon when you read those stones.”

Your jaw dropped. “That’s not—?! That’s not normal!”

“Nope,” Hongo agreed. “Very intriguing.”

“And very pretty,” Shanks added.

You turned on your heel. “I’m leaving.”

“No wait!” Shanks called after you. “Join us for lunch! I promise not to get punched again!”

You paused, hesitating. The idea of eating with the Red-Hair Pirates seemed… suicidal. You’d spent years hiding your ability, keeping a low profile, ducking Marines and bounty hunters alike.

But they didn’t look like they were planning to turn you in.

And the smell of roasted fish was really good.

“…I’m watching all of you,” you muttered, stomping over.

“Great!” Shanks beamed. “You can sit next to me! DAHAHAHA”

“Absolutely not.”

Lunch with the Red-Hair Pirates was insane.

You had to admit: they were nothing like you’d expected.

Shanks, despite being a Yonko, acted more like a chaotic older brother than a fearsome warlord. He kept nudging plates toward you like a golden retriever trying to feed its owner, all while regaling you with stories that involved an alarming number of explosions and nudity.

Benn Beckman, calm and poised, sat at your other side. He didn’t say much, but you noticed how his eyes never left you—watchful, calculating, but not in a threatening way. More like… protective.

“You always travel alone?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “Easier to hide.”

He hummed. “Doesn’t sound easier to live.”

His words stuck with you longer than you cared to admit.

Lime Juice kept trying to impress you with “tricks,” most of which involved lighting things on fire or juggling knives. When he tried to balance a plate on his head and walk backward up a tree, you genuinely feared for his life.

“I’m very flexible,” he claimed proudly as he slipped and crashed into Shanks’ lap.

“Yeah, flexible like a bag of rocks,” Hongo muttered under his breath, flipping through a medical book beside you. Occasionally, he asked you questions about ancient glyphs and your translation methods, clearly more interested in your brain than your punching skills.

Which, okay, was kind of flattering.

You didn’t know when it happened, but by the end of the meal, you were… laughing.

You were laughing with people you’d met barely an hour ago. People who, by all logic, should’ve either kidnapped you or sold your secret to the highest bidder.

Instead, they argued about who could get you to smile the fastest.

“You like wine?” Benn asked, offering you a rare vintage.

“You like beer?” Shanks grinned, popping open a keg.

“You like really strong mystery juice I made last night?” Lime Juice offered, holding a bubbling bottle that Hongo promptly knocked out of his hands.

“Do you guys always compete like this?” you asked, bewildered.

“Only when it’s worth it,” Shanks winked.

You choked on your drink.

The day slipped by quickly after that.

You showed Hongo how Poneglyphs resonated when you hummed certain tones. He looked at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world and scribbled notes furiously.

You sparred—lightly—with Lime Juice, who was surprisingly nimble when not setting himself on fire.

You chatted with Benn about navigation, philosophy, and—when Shanks wasn’t listening—what kind of wine pairs best with sea-king meat.

And Shanks? Shanks hovered. Endearingly. Annoyingly. Constantly.

“You know, I could protect you,” he offered at one point, lying back on the grass beside you with a grin. “If you joined us. Nobody would ever dare come after you again.”

“Why would I ever trust a Yonko?” you teased, resting your chin on your hand.

Shanks tapped his temple. “Because I’m handsome and charming.”

“Debatable.”

“Because I didn’t press you about your ability.”

You paused.

“…Less debatable.”

He turned his head toward you, more serious this time. “I know what it means. What you can do. I know the world will hunt you for it. And I also know—without a doubt—anyone who tries will have to go through me first.”

You stared at him, heart hammering. “That’s very dramatic.”

“Have you met me?” he grinned.

Before you could reply, Benn’s voice called over, “Captain, stop seducing our guest and help clean up.”

“I am helping,” Shanks called back. “With my charm.”

Benn just groaned and threw a towel at his head.

Night fell.

You sat with Lime Juice and Hongo near the fire while Shanks played a drunken game of darts with a tree (he kept missing) and Benn nursed a glass of something expensive, eyeing his captain like a babysitter on overtime.

Lime Juice offered you his coat when the wind picked up. “You know,” he said, voice quieter now, “you’re kind of amazing.”

You turned. “Me?”

“Yeah. Punching a Yonko. Reading the un-readable. And laughing at my jokes. Triple threat.”

You laughed. “Thanks, I think?”

“Don’t let Shanks hog you too much,” he added. “Some of us want a shot too.”

Hongo hummed behind his book. “I’ll second that.”

You looked between them, blinking. “Wait, what?”

Benn walked over, his cigarette glowing faintly. “They’re not joking.”

Shanks stumbled into the circle, arms wide. “Did I hear flirting?! I object! You’re all banned.”

You stared at the four of them.

“You’re telling me,” you said slowly, “that all of you are flirting with me… at the same time?”

There was a beat.

Then Shanks, Benn, Lime Juice, and Hongo all nodded in sync.

You buried your face in your hands. “This is absurd.”

Shanks grinned. “Absurdly charming.”

“I need a drink,” you muttered.

Benn passed you his glass without a word.

You didn’t leave the next morning.

Or the next.

Or the next after that.

Somewhere between watching Shanks get his foot stuck in a barrel, Lime Juice trying to build you a “romance swing,” Hongo diagnosing him with “chronic dumbassery,” and Benn pulling you aside just to ask how you were holding up, you realized something:

You were happier than you’d been in years.

For the first time, you weren’t hiding.

You weren’t running.

You were laughing. Living. Loved.

And sure, maybe the world still wanted your head.

But you had a Yonko, his second-in-command, a chaotic firecracker, and a broody medic wrapped around your finger.

If the world wanted to come for you?

Let it.

You had your crew now.

The Lost Reader

A mysterious reader of Poneglyphs finds a new home among the Straw Hat Pirates, slowly becoming an irreplaceable part of their crew as their love for them grows.

READER WHO CAN READ AND SPEAK PONEGLYPH

Strawhats x Poneglyph gn!reader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

main characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, robin

tags: fluff, sfw, harem(?), soft

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs cringe and oc

words count: 1.9k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It started with silence.

Not the heavy kind that suffocates—but the quiet peace of wind brushing through trees, waves lapping against the sand, and birds singing above crumbled ruins. Your only companions were time-worn Poneglyphs, mossy stone relics, and the hollow ache of knowing you shouldn’t exist.

You didn’t know what you were—only that you could read them. The Poneglyphs. Their words came to you like breath, like blood. It wasn’t learned. It just… was.

And then one day, the silence broke.

“WOOOOAAAHH! What a weird island!!”

You looked up from a worn page, blinking at the explosion of sound.

A rubber man had landed face-first in your tomato garden.

You blinked again, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t imagining the scene before you. The man—his limbs were stretched at impossible angles, and his face was, well… currently smushed into the dirt of your carefully cultivated tomato patch.

“Luffy!” a woman’s voice shouted from the shore. “Stop crashing into things!”

You stared in disbelief, watching as a circus of chaos disembarked from a sunny, lion-faced ship. At least, that’s what it looked like to you.

“Wha—?” You stumbled back, half-wondering if you’d stepped into some sort of dream. But no, the crew’s laughter was real. Loud, boisterous, utterly chaotic, and very much present.

Before you could comprehend the whirlwind that had just descended upon your quiet life, a figure bounded toward you. The rubber man—Luffy—was grinning at you like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen all day. And, for all you knew, you were.

“Hey! Who're you? you live here? cool! SHISHISHI” Luffy asked, already sitting cross-legged on the ground as if he hadn’t just completely flattened your garden. “Wanna eat with us?”

You blinked, still too stunned to form a coherent sentence. “I… guess?...Im Y/N”

And so began your first real encounter with the Straw Hat Pirates.

Nami, with her keen eyes and sharp questions, immediately assessed the situation, interrogating you about your maps and supplies like she was about to audit your entire existence. Sanji, the ever-romantic chef, started cooking a feast so lavish that you were half-tempted to check if the food had its own backstory. The man even had heart-shaped eyes every time you praised his cooking.

Usopp, ever the over-the-top self-proclaimed hero, proudly handed you a coconut with a grin that could only be described as a “friendship orb.” “From me to you,” he declared, as if he had just made the world’s most profound offering.

And then there was Chopper, who took your pulse the second he saw you, declaring that you had “island person syndrome” and needed immediate attention.

Robin, however, watched you closely. Her gaze sharp but gentle, as if trying to figure out a puzzle no one else could see.

“You can read those stones, can’t you?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You stiffened. The question sent a shiver through your spine, a fleeting reminder of the secret you kept buried deep within. You didn’t answer. Not immediately.

She smiled, soft and knowing, her eyes never leaving yours. “We’ll talk later.”

Zoro, ever the brooding figure, glanced at you and muttered under his breath, “You don’t look dangerous.” It seemed like a funny thing to say, considering he had just been trying to slice a boulder in half mere moments earlier.

It didn’t take long for you to realize what was happening: You were trapped in their orbit. In their madness. In their chaos.

And you couldn’t have been more content.

The Thousand Sunny became your new home—bright, loud, and utterly unpredictable.

Sanji insisted on cooking you all your meals. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—each time, his cooking came with a full-on serenade, and if you didn’t finish your plate, he might just shed a tear. “It’s not just food,” he’d say. “It’s love. It’s my soul in a dish!”

Nami dragged you into shopping sprees with no regard for your dwindling supplies or your protestations. “You need to look fabulous, Y/N. Don’t you want to blend in with the rest of us?” she’d tease, while tossing a dozen new outfits into your arms. You always ended up spending more than you intended, but there was something so infectious about her enthusiasm that you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Robin was the one who quietly fascinated you. You’d find her at all hours of the day, absorbed in reading a book or studying the surroundings with quiet intensity. There was something about the way she looked at you, like she already knew your secrets but would never pry.

And then there was Luffy. Always smiling. Always laughing. He treated you as though you were already part of the crew. No pretense, no hesitation. You didn’t even need to be invited. You were just… in.

“Wanna ride on top of the mast?” Luffy asked one morning, as casually as if he were asking if you wanted a snack.

You stared up at the towering mast, then back at him. “Is that… safe?”

“Nope! shishishi” he beamed, looking excited about the prospect.

Somehow, that made it make sense to climb up there with him. He helped you up like it was nothing, laughing all the while. The wind whipped through your hair, and for the first time in a long while, you felt alive. You weren’t just existing anymore.

Zoro, ever the silent guardian, began training near you. You noticed him constantly observing your movements, his gaze intense but not unwelcome. One day, you lost your footing on deck, but before you could even react, his hand shot out and steadied you.

He didn’t say much, just stared at you for a moment, before clearing his throat and muttering, “Watch your step, dumbass.”

Romance, clearly.

It crept in slowly. Unnoticed, at first.

Sanji’s compliments, light-hearted at first, began to hold a different weight. “You look beautiful today, Y/N~chwann” he’d say with a soft smile, not just as a joke, but as something that meant more.

Nami’s teasing turned into lingering glances, moments where her eyes softened when she thought no one was looking.

Robin’s hand on yours during those quiet late-night reading sessions made your heart skip a beat, like it was a shared secret, a connection you didn’t have the words to describe.

Zoro’s silence, once intimidating, became your comfort. When he was near, you didn’t need to talk. You didn’t need to explain yourself. He was just there, a steady presence.

And Luffy’s laughter—oh, Luffy’s laughter. It started to feel like home, like the sound of safety, of warmth. A constant reminder that with him around, there was nothing to fear.

But you kept your secret.

That was until one night, when you and Robin stood over a relic you had no business being near. It was buried deep beneath the cursed island’s soil, half-buried like a forgotten truth. Robin stood behind you, arms crossed, waiting for you to decipher it. You already knew what it would say, but that didn’t stop the rush of dread that surged within you as your fingers traced the ancient glyphs.

“You know what it says, don’t you?” Robin’s voice was barely a whisper. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

You stiffened.

“It’s just a story,” you muttered, voice low.

Robin smiled, a soft and knowing smile, one that suggested she understood far more than she let on. “Then you should know—they’d kill you for it.”

You didn’t answer, didn’t have the words. You just continued to trace the lines, the ancient language flowing effortlessly from your mind, sinking into the earth beneath your fingertips.

Everything changed when you found the half-buried Poneglyph on a cursed island.

It was a trap. Not for Luffy. Not for the Pirate King in the making.

For you.

You read the stone aloud, your voice quiet, shaking slightly. And for the first time in your life, the stone responded.

The words were not just etched into stone, not just an inscription—it was a message. A message that burned through the world like a beacon.

“The last of the Whisperers,” it said. “Hunted. Hidden. Forbidden.”

The ground shook. The air turned electric. The Poneglyphs around you shimmered, the glyphs becoming light, illuminating the island with a soft, ethereal glow.

The Straw Hats arrived just as you stumbled backward, your eyes wide, heart pounding, the power coursing through you like an uncontrollable force. The glyphs pulsed, and the power in your veins burned bright.

“What’s happening?!” Usopp screamed, looking ready to fight a ghost.

You looked at them—at your crew—and whispered, “They were hunting us. People who could read these stones. I shouldn’t exist.”

There was silence.

Then Luffy stepped forward, his voice unwavering, “You’re not alone.”

The Marines came shortly after.

You fought, of course you did.

For the first time in your life, you let the power in your blood surge freely. The words of the stone became light, flames of energy erupting from the ground as you slashed through the battlefield, carving the very earth with your newfound strength. You cracked the island’s crust. You didn’t even know you could do that.

Sanji’s hand grabbed yours as the ground beneath you cracked, pulling you from the collapsing cliff. Zoro fought beside you, silent and determined. Robin’s steady hand on yours kept you grounded in the chaos.

When the battle was over, and the last Marine had been driven back, you passed out.

You woke in the infirmary, Chopper hovering over you, his worried eyes darting around like he was waiting for you to disappear again. Franky was sitting beside you, sobbing into a bowl of soup.

“You scared us, you moron,” Nami whispered, brushing your hair back from your face. Her voice was soft, a rare tenderness that made your heart ache.

Robin kissed your temple as she hovered over you, whispering, “You’re more than your gift.”

Sanji didn’t say anything, but his presence was unmistakable. He curled up beside you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder, a silent vow of protection.

Zoro sat across from you, cleaning his swords. “Don’t ever do that alone again.”

And Luffy… Luffy beamed at you, that infectious smile lighting up his face as he exclaimed, “You’re stuck with us forever now!”

The tension unraveled like fraying rope.

Nami kissed you when you least expected it, quick and teasing, a spark of affection.

Robin kissed you in the library, with parchment between your hands, and the world felt like it stopped turning for a moment.

Sanji kissed you with all the intensity of someone who had been waiting for years, every touch filled with longing.

Zoro kissed you like it was the only thing that made sense, his hands warm and steady.

And Luffy—Luffy’s kiss was upside down, playful, and completely unexpected, but perfect in the way only Luffy could be.

Usopp ran away screaming, “AAAH! ROMANCE ATTACK!”

Chopper fainted. Twice.

Brook played a love song with three verses about your “sultry stare” that made everyone uncomfortable except Sanji, who wept.

Franky asked if you wanted to build a heart-shaped cannon to “blast your feelings at the world.” You said yes. It now sits in the garden.

Jinbei just gave you a nod and said, “It’s about time.”

You weren’t a secret anymore.

You were theirs.

Not claimed, not owned—but cherished. Loved, wholly and fiercely.

And though the world may hunt you, you had a crew that would burn it down before they let anyone take you.

Say something

Straw Hat Pirates with a newly recruited reader who has selective mutism, appears unassuming but is secretly op

Strawhats x psychic!femreader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, bit of angst(?)

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs a bit cringe

words count:968

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You weren’t used to crowds.

And right now, that was a problem—because you were very much in one. A particularly sweaty, loud, and increasingly hostile one. The Straw Hats had docked at a lively but rough port for supplies, and in an unfortunate twist of fate, you’d gotten separated from the crew while browsing a small weapons stall.

Now you were surrounded by a group of sneering pirates, each one more obnoxious than the last, forming a loose circle around you like a pack of hyenas smelling blood.

“Aww, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” one of them leered, waving a cutlass lazily at your side. “Cat got your tongue?”

“She ain’t said a word,” another said, voice thick with mockery. “Too scared, huh?”

“She’s shaking,” a third laughed. “Bet she can’t even hold a sword properly.”

They were right about one thing: you hadn’t spoken. But it wasn’t fear that silenced you—it was them. Strangers. Eyes. Loud voices demanding a reaction.

Your throat felt tight. The words—simple ones, just leave me alone—were locked behind a door your mind couldn’t open. So you did what you always did when this happened.

You stared.

Expression blank. Shoulders loose. Breathing calm.

The mask of silence you wore never failed to make people underestimate you.

And right on cue, the biggest of the group stepped forward, cocky and smug. “C’mon, sweetheart. Say somethin’. Just one word.”

You tilted your head and blinked at him slowly.

He leaned in closer, thinking you were cornered prey.

And that’s when he made his mistake.

He reached out—fingertips brushing your collarbone, tugging at your cloak—like you were some kind of doll to poke and prod.

You whispered, barely audible: “Don’t touch me.”

He blinked. “What was that—”

And then you moved.

—

The first crack was his ribs.

You didn’t look strong. That was your favorite part about this whole thing. Small frame, loose clothes, no visible weapon. You’d always been dismissed as fragile, silent, soft.

But that was before your elbow shattered the man’s chestplate and launched him backward into a fruit stand. The market screamed and scattered. In seconds, chaos erupted.

Two more charged at you from either side. You twisted—agile, fluid—and drove a sharp heel into one’s temple while catching the other’s blade between your fingers. Not even a scratch.

He stared at you in shock.

You smiled sweetly.

Then bent the sword in half like it was tinfoil.

“Oh, she’s weird,” one pirate shrieked.

“Demon!” another cried.

You crouched low and pressed your palm to the ground. There was a faint ripple of energy, subtle and shimmering. A deep hum thrummed beneath the earth. Then the cobblestones exploded, launching your remaining attackers into the air like popcorn kernels.

Psychic force, compressed and sharp like a blade of wind. You didn’t need to speak to cast—just focus. Just want.

—

Across the square, the Straw Hats had heard the explosion before they saw you.

“What was that?!” Usopp shouted, ducking behind Franky.

“I think the market’s being destroyed!” Nami yelled.

“Could be marines,” Sanji muttered.

“Could be her,” Zoro said suddenly, eyes narrowing.

“Huh?” Chopper squeaked.

Zoro didn’t answer. He was already walking toward the noise.

—

When they arrived, the square was in shambles.

Stalls crushed. Dust everywhere. Six pirates knocked out cold. A seventh trying to crawl away with only one shoe and his pride in pieces.

And you—standing alone in the middle of it all, clothes scuffed but otherwise untouched, casually spinning a small rock above your palm with lazy telekinesis.

You looked up when they approached. Your eyes locked with Luffy’s first.

You expected him to be surprised.

Instead, he beamed.

“THAT WAS AWESOME!” he yelled, running up to you like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time. “You exploded the GROUND!”

You blinked, unsure how to respond.

Zoro whistled low. “You’re stronger than you look.”

Nami was wide-eyed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged, still spinning the rock.

Robin tilted her head, looking more curious than shocked. “Psychic ability,” she murmured. “Very rare. You must have excellent control.”

Sanji, meanwhile, was clutching his chest. “Mon dieu… she flipped a man with her foot. I am in love. I am ascending.”

You rolled your eyes.

Chopper scrambled up your shoulder, stars in his eyes. “Can you teach me that thing you did with the sword?!”

You raised a brow, then made the rock hover in front of him. He squealed in delight.

Usopp ducked behind Luffy. “Can she read minds?! Wait—can she read MY mind?!”

You smirked. Then deliberately looked at him and said nothing.

He screamed and ran behind a barrel.

And through it all, Luffy never stopped smiling.

—

Later, back on the Sunny, Luffy found you sitting at the railing, watching the sea. The sun was setting, sky turning to amber and pink. You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt him sit beside you.

You glanced at him, then looked away.

He leaned closer. “You okay?”

You nodded.

“You don’t talk a lot,” he said, not as a complaint, just a statement.

You shook your head.

“But you can.”

You hesitated. Then leaned in, gently cupping your hands around his ear.

“I only speak when it matters,” you whispered.

He grinned. “It mattered earlier?”

You nodded again.

He sat back, still smiling. “Good. Then I’ll wait. ‘Til it matters again.”

You stared at him for a second longer. Then reached out, flicked his forehead gently with a little psychic zap.

He flinched. “Hey!”

You didn’t reply. Just smirked.

He grinned wider.

“You’re cool shishishishi,” he said.

And you finally let yourself laugh—quiet, barely audible, but real.

They’d seen your power now. The cat was out of the bag.

But you still had a hundred secrets left to keep.

And the crew?

They were just getting started.

a/n: idk if its just me but i love an overpowered reader, especially if theyre psychic ><

O̲̅N̲̅E̲̅P̲̅I̲̅E̲̅C̲̅E̲̅ M̲̅A̲̅S̲̅T̲̅E̲̅R̲̅L̲̅I̲̅S̲̅T̲̅

ℛ𝓊𝓁ℯ𝓈

𝘉𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 

𝘕𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘙𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢, 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘦𝘵𝘤., 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 

𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴' 𝘋𝘕𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, (𝘐𝘧 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 — 𝘢𝘥𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦!)

𝘕𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 , 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭. 

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦!, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘶𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘺.

ℛℯ𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓈𝓉 ℰ𝓉𝒾𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ

𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨! (𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘰 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵!) 

𝘉𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈 "𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦" 𝘢𝘯𝘥 "𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶" 𝘨𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘺.

𝘉𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 (𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦, 𝘦𝘵𝘤.), 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵! 

𝘕𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵! 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦. 

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴 — 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴!

 𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦! 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘥. 

𝘐𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴.

Quick a/n: 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘈𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘐 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨.

also special mention to the creator of these dividers<33

FLUFF ANGST ko-fi

S̲̅T̲̅R̲̅A̲̅W̲̅H̲̅A̲̅T̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 GIANT DUCK INCIDENT - luffy x gn!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Say something - strawhat x psychic!femreader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The Lost Reader - strawhat x gn!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 CLINGY MUCH? - Zoro x gn!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Got married by Accident… Thanks, Vegapunk? - luffy x gn!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Wait… Luffy’s WHAT?! - luffy x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Double Trouble - luffy x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 What Remains - strawhats x platonic gn! reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Smoke Break - sanji x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 One Month With You - strawhat x reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The Ones Who Stayed Silent - sanji x reader | angst | O.S

R̲̅E̲̅D̲̅H̲̅A̲̅I̲̅R̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 You punched a Yonko? - red hair pirates x fem!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Fractures in the silence - shanks x reader | light angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 CLINGY MUCH? - shanks x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Flustered Fury - beck x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 - shanks x reader | fluff/slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Smoke Break - beck x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Six Months of Secrets, Five Minutes of Hell - shanks x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 One Month With You - red hair pirates x reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The Ones Who Stayed Silent - shanks x reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Trouble Walks In, and So Do You - shanks x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Six Months of Secrets, Five Minutes of Hell - shanks x reader | fluff | O.S

W̲̅A̲̅R̲̅L̲̅O̲̅R̲̅D̲̅S̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Perfect pair - mihawk x reader | fluff, v!ol3nce | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Strings in Crimson - doflamingo x reader | fluff, v!ol3nce | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 CLINGY MUCH? - mihawk x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Smoke Break - crocodile x reader | fluff/slight nsfw | O.S

W̲̅H̲̅I̲̅T̲̅E̲̅B̲̅E̲̅A̲̅R̲̅D̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸Sea Kings, Smart Mouths, and Stolen Hearts - whitebeard x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Clueless hearts and full plates - ace x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Where the Fire Lives - marco x oc | fluff/slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 I won't leave you - ace x sister! reader | slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Teach Tried It, I Survived It - Marco x reader | fluff/slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸Fractured Allegiance - marco x reader | slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Stuck on You - marco x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 One Month With You - whitebeard pirates x reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The Ones Who Stayed Silent - ace x reader | angst | O.S

H̲̅E̲̅A̲̅R̲̅T̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Doctor Trafalgar, Love Expert? - law x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Confined Hearts - law x gn! reader | fluff | O.S

B̲̅I̲̅G̲̅ M̲̅O̲̅M̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Sugar & Spite - katakuri x reader | fluff | series, 3 chapters

B̲̅E̲̅A̲̅S̲̅T̲̅S̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Hot Springs, Hot Tempers - king x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 King’s Helmet Mystery - king x gn! reader | fluff | O.S

K̲̅I̲̅D̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅

M̲̅A̲̅R̲̅I̲̅N̲̅E̲̅S̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Clash of Fists and Hearts - young garp × gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Smoke Break - smoker x reader | fluff/slight nsfw | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Frostbite and Witchcraft - aokiji x reader | fluff/slight nsfw | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Captain for a Day - smoker x reader | fluff | O.S

C̲̅P̲̅9̲̅

˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Secrets in Stone - CP9 x reader | fluff | O.S

Giant Duck Incident

When Luffy mistakes a giant duck for dinner and ends up getting a kiss instead

LUFFY X GN!READER ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs a bit cringe

masterlist | ko-fi

words count: 1.1k

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sun was high, the sea was calm, and there were absolutely no signs of trouble.

Which, on the Thousand Sunny, meant one thing:

Trouble was coming.

“LUFFY, NO—!!”

Too late. You watched in horror as Monkey D. Luffy, your idiot-slash-sweetheart captain, launched himself full-speed off the ship.

“THAT’S A HUGE DRUMSTICK!!”

He landed with a wet splat on what you now saw was not, in fact, a drumstick, but a massive, living, very not amused yellow blob.

A duck.

A giant duck. Towering, glistening, waddling angrily in the shallows.

It honked—a sound that felt more like a roar—and thrashed its wings wildly, trying to throw the rubbery parasite off its back.

Luffy clung to its neck like a child to a carnival ride, cackling madly. “SHISHISHSHI IT’S THE SIZE OF A WHOLE BANQUET!!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “This man has the survival instincts of a particularly reckless bread roll.”

You glanced at the rest of the crew.

Zoro was asleep.

Sanji was busy sculpting carrot roses for Robin.

Robin was reading, obviously not surprised.

Nami looked up from her map just long enough to yell, “Not it!”

Usopp and Chopper screamed something about curses and jumped into a barrel together.

Which left you.

Of course it did.

—

The duck, still honking its fury to the high heavens, stomped in circles while Luffy attempted to bite its side. You sprinted down the ramp and into the shallow surf.

“LUFFY, GET OFF THE DUCK!”

“I’M TRYING TO TASTE IT!”

“IT’S A SENTIENT CREATURE!”

“BUT IT LOOKS SO CRISPY—”

The duck, insulted on a deeply personal level, launched itself upward in one majestic leap and sent Luffy flying through the air like a flailing meat meteor. He landed beside you, face in the sand, limbs splayed in defeat.

“…Ow,” he mumbled.

You sighed and knelt beside him. “You good?”

He gave you a thumbs-up, still face-down. “YUP! SHISHISHI”

You helped brush sand off his hat as he sat up.

“Luffy,” you said, trying to be calm, “you can’t eat random animals just because they’re big and vaguely drumstick-shaped.”

“But look at it!” he whined, pointing. “It’s got those golden thighs! The rotisserie energy! The juicy potential!”

“It has a name, probably. A family. A job.”

He squinted. “Maybe it’s an orphan with a deep desire to fulfill its destiny as dinner.”

You blinked then laugh at this. “… pftt! did you just create a duck backstory to justify your cravings?”

“Yes!” he said proudly. “That’s called empathy I think! SHISHISHI”

You stared at him, completely deadpan. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He blinked. Then beamed. “You think I’m cute?”

“…That was supposed to stay in my head.”

“TOO LATE!” he yelled, springing to his feet and throwing his arms in the air like a victorious meat wrestler. “Y/N THINKS I’M CUUUUTE!!”

“Luffy!”

“I’M CUTE! I’M CUTE! EVEN CUTER THAN THE DUCK!”

The duck, now perched like a war god on a rock, glared at him with pure malice.

You sighed. “We’re gonna be hunted by poultry assassins. I can feel it.”

—

Back on the Sunny, after Luffy was physically restrained from offering the duck “one little nibble,” peace was finally restored. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in soft golds and purples.

You sat on the deck’s edge, feet dangling over the sea. Luffy flopped beside you, hat tilted back, grin wide.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said suddenly.

You braced yourself. “If you ask me to cook duck—”

“No, no,” he chuckled. “I was gonna say... I like when you laugh.”

You turned to him, surprised.

He was watching you. Not in the usual Luffy way — not like when he spotted meat across the room, or stared down an enemy. This was the kind of look that made your chest feel warm and your brain do a little somersault.

“Earlier,” he said, “you laughed when I said something about empathy”

“Thats not... I was mocking you!,” you replied. “I thought I was about to watch you get pecked into a new time zone.”

“But you still laughed,” he said, all sunny and smug. “You always do.”

“That’s because you’re ridiculous.”

“You like it,” he teased, nudging your shoulder.

You bit back a smile. “I tolerate it. Barely.”

He tilted his head, expression soft. “Zoro said it’s obvious.”

“…You talked to Zoro about me?”

“I asked if I could kiss you,” Luffy said bluntly. “He said ask you, not him.”

Your brain fizzled. “Wait. What—”

“So,” Luffy continued, turning fully to face you with that open, earnest joy you’d come to adore, “can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Kiss you,” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath caught. This was the same boy who just tried to eat a duck like it was a buffet item. Who once got stuck inside a vending machine trying to retrieve a stuck candy bar. Who sometimes forgot his shoes and didn’t notice for an hour.

And yet.

Your heart fluttered like it hadn’t gotten the memo about logic.

“…Yes,” you said, quiet.

His face lit up like a festival. “Yeah?!”

You nodded.

He scooted close—awkwardly but gently—and cupped your cheek, his hand warm and calloused. The kiss was clumsy, sweet, quick. His nose bumped yours, and when he pulled away, he had that stupidly big grin that made your stomach flip.

“WHOA,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

He leaned back on his hands, practically glowing. “Gonna tell Zoro it worked!”

“LUFFY—NO—!”

Too late.

“ZORO!! I KISSED Y/N!! AND THEY SAID YES!! YOU WERE RIGHT!!”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands as Zoro’s muffled “I don’t care!” echoed from the crow’s nest.

Sanji’s head whipped up from the kitchen door, his cigarette dangling dangerously.

“WHAT?!”

Luffy turned mid-skip. “I kissed Y/N!”

Sanji's eye twitched. “I leave you alone for ONE romantic sunset and you SNEAK AHEAD?!”

You, now partially hiding behind the mast, groaned. “Oh no.”

“Luffy, you absolute—! That was supposed to be MY kiss! I was going to bring you a fruit parfait! HOW DARE YOU KISS MY Y/N~CHWANNNNN!”

Luffy skipped back to you, unbothered and beaming. “Wanna kiss again?”

You peeked through your fingers. “If you promise not to announce it like a seagull with a megaphone.”

He nodded. “Fineee!. But I will write it in my logbook shishishi.”

“…You have a logbook?!”

“It’s mostly meat sketches and battle doodles. But now it has you.”

And your heart, traitor that it was, somersaulted again.

You sighed. “Fine. Just… no more trying to eat ducks.”

He tilted his head. “What if it asks nicely?”

You groaned, flopping back dramatically.

And somewhere in the distance, a vengeful honk echoed over the sea.

Handsy- ii

(Buggy the Clown x f!Reader)

A small-town shopkeep makes the second biggest mistake of her life by humouring a pirate captain's idea.

1.2k Words

Another boring day working in that stupid shop had taken a full 180 to you now being sat in the lap of a feared pirate captain as you watched the theatrics and insanity of his ship’s circus tent. The one constant of the last few hours was the detached hand holding yours tightly, the white cloth of his glove not concealing the warmth of his palm against yours. The hand, now reattached to Buggy’s arm, didn’t seem intent on letting you go any time soon.

He sat wide-legged with you wedged sideways in his lap, your back resting against the high-set arm of the throne with his other arm right behind it. This positioning had your faces set awfully close together as he grinned maniacally. “So, doll, what’s the story? Kidnap my hand for attention, hm?” He prodded, his arm now snaking around your back to hold you in place. You tensed a little at his words, brain going blank for a minute before you could respond.

“I found it in an alleyway- just a few hours ago! Came here right away…” You lied with a forced smile, not wanting him to know you’d unknowingly caught the hand in the first place. Your best bet was to change the subject a bit, avoid any more suspicion than what you could already see in his narrowing eyes, smudgey makeup framing pretty blues.

“Is that so? Well then, someone as loyal as you should be a part of my crew!”

The certainty of his tone as well as his bold statement caught you off guard, planning to ask something meaningless about his crew or outfit when he proposed such an absurd offer. You squirmed in his lap, only prompting him to give your hand a squeeze and tighten his arm around your back, moving it to rest comfortably on your waist as he pulled you in close to give you nowhere to look except right into those eyes of his. “Whaddaya say, then? Life of a pirate ain’t so bad, y’know~” He teased, still grinning like a maniac.

Alam bells blared in your head at everything going on, but you couldn’t fight off the part of your heart that wanted to accept immediately. The makeup and showmanship of it all wasn’t what enticed you, but the way his hand had remained gentle in yours, keeping you from feeling any real fear at all. You’d assume a fearsome pirate like this to be brutal in nature, but the way your fingers interlaced with his so easily, such a soft and simple gesture, not painful or distressing, had your ever-sappy heart doing cartwheels. “I- uh…”

Mumbling was all you could manage, breaking eye contact and looking around the tent. Everything about this was the exact opposite of your normal. Unpredictable, seemingly no routine or discipline. Still, everyone smiled and shared in eating, drinking and laughing as they performed. It was like a happy family amidst how chaotic it felt, and the rumbling laughter you could feel in the clown’s chest only immersed you further in the experience.

“Not to worry doll, run along for now to think.” He said, amused by how dumbstruck the simple ask of joining his crew had rendered you. His hand once more popped off of his body, less unsettling than it should be to you. The hand led the way, guiding you through the crowds and wild motion, seemingly sure of how to take a path without intervening or colliding with anything. 

Buggy the Clown was surely the only man in the world who had any sense to navigate chaos such as this, and as his hand led you all the way to the edge of your ship, you couldn’t help one last gentle squeeze before watching it fly back to its owner.

Your heart panged with guilt as you knew better than to even consider his wild ideas, there was no way you were cut out for being a pirate. The shop hadn’t exactly trained you for something like that, the closest thing had been lifting heavy boxes and fighting off rude customers. That was nothing compared to the dangers faced at sea, especially as a part of such a well-feared crew.

The idea of the brutality was too much to even weigh out as an option, and you sighed as the music faded and the ship went out of view as you walked home to sleep off the insanely fast beating of your heart in your chest.

_____

The next morning was a new day. New wasn’t the best word for it, as it would all be the same. Same breakfast, same clothes, same walk to work at the same time as usual. Normally, the monotony was no bother, but after seeing the excitement of the pirate ship you’d boarded the night previous the dullness of it all felt suffocating.

Your coworker didn’t even believe half the things you told her as you recounted the encounter with Buggy the Clown himself, her face paling as you told her about his offer. “Hell, you said no right away didn’t you?” She practically begged, grabbing the sleeve of your shirt. “I didn’t exactly say yes, or no. He told me… to think.” You said causing your coworker to pale even further at the glint she saw forming in your eyes.

“Oh God, you know all the things that could happen to you?” “Yes, I do. I hear stories all the time.” “It’s no joke! This is serious!” The two of you went back and forth, even if you hadn’t fully convinced yourself her words didn’t faze you in the slightest. After a few minutes, she huffed and pulled a backpack out from under the register, red in the face. 

“Just go.” She muttered, not looking you in the eyes. “Pack this up and get going, who knows when they’ll leave port.” Her words were practically a whisper as you saw tears begin to bubble up along her lashes. She didn’t even give you a chance to question her motives here before speaking again.

“I’ve never seen you so… bright. You’re glowing, you’ve been practically dancing around the store all day. This small town isn’t big enough for that mind of yours, take your chance before I change my mind and never let you go… and quick, their boat won’t stay docked forever!” She practically yelled at you, holding the bag out. 

You gave her a quick hug and nod before grabbing it, shouting out your thanks as you ran from the store to grab anything and everything you’d need for life as a pirate before the Big Top took off again to the seas.

As you stumbled out onto the dock you saw the ship begin to move, but the panels around the ship’s cannons were big enough to squeeze through. With a great leap and a bit of wiggling, you were officially a stowaway beyond the point of return as the storage room you’d ended up in greeted you merrily with the clanking of what you assumed to be alcohol bottles and sloshing of sake in large, hefty barrels.

You could hear the sound of another outrageous party over the deafening beating of your heart as you curled up in the corner, reaching into your pocket to give Buggy’s hand a squeeze but realizing it obviously wasn’t there anymore.

You wondered what your fate was on this ship, if the great clown would pay you any mind, but your thoughts were cut short as loud, sluggish footsteps echoed louder and louder down the halls.

Handsy

(Buggy the Clown x f!Reader)

A small-town shopkeep makes the biggest mistake of her life by capturing a weird-ass spider.

1.8k Words

Working in such a tiny shop had plenty of issues. Cramped spaces, not enough room for stock, no escape from whiny customers…

But, there were also upsides. Mainly that cleaning was easy, but today being able to spot a huge spider on one shelf with ease made it a lot easier to pick up an old shoebox to capture it in. You didn’t get a good look before snagging it, just shutting the box tight and sitting on it immediately. It was a good thing too, from the way it slammed against the box aggressively it would have had a chance of escaping if you hadn’t done so.

A few layers of tape and air holes in the box made your life a lot easier, customers and coworkers alike praising you for your bravery. You didn’t love bugs, but didn’t harbor the strong fears of many others towards the creepy crawlies common to your town. The coworker who had spotted it initially and screeched for your help was especially grateful, wishing you thanks and avoiding the box as you put it behind the register.

This wasn’t the only big event of the day, as you were in for a surprise when a tall, broad man in a colorful costume burst into the store. He seemed slightly frantic, one arm hidden beneath his cape as he waved the other wildly. He was eye-catching not only because of his height and loudness, but the clown makeup and neon blue hair he had. The pirate hat on his head alerted you to the possible danger of this man, and you gripped the dagger next to the register tightly just in case as you ushered your coworker into the back room.

“Excuse me there, doll,” The strange intruder sneered, making you wince a bit at the nickname. His smile was his best feature, you decided, but the condescending tone falling from his lips didn’t do much to help him. “Have you happened to see… any spare limbs around?” He muttered the last few words, cheeks going even redder than the makeup had set them to be.

“I- uh… not really, no?” You responded, trying to figure out if this was some weird joke. “Spare limbs… what do you really mean by that, sir?” The tone you used was respectful but awfully puzzled, having no clue what was going on. You swore you’d seen the pirate before, but you couldn’t put your finger on even such a recognizable face. He didn’t bother to answer your question, just grunting animatedly before swishing his cape and leaving. You could have sworn you saw a hand missing from his hidden arm, but it must have been a trick of light as his colorful apparel was almost painful to look at for too long.

Murmurs were shared amongst customers after he stormed out the front door, the name Buggy the Clown being tossed around continuously. As your coworker emerged, eyes wide, she looked quickly to the box now tucked neatly under the counter. You had planned to walk into the forest in the evening to set the creature free, but with the way she was looking at the box now you were worried for what she was about to say.

“Hey, um… did you happen to get a good look at the spider earlier?” She questioned, voice barely above a whisper as her face paled. You stepped towards her, ready to catch her in case she fainted. She looked awfully close to doing so, only growing paler at your next words. “Not really, just scooped it up in the box and called it a day. Why?”

“Do you- do you know who that was?” She now stuttered, panicked in every sense of the word. Her fear of spiders must’ve fully left her body in that instant as she grabbed the dagger to rip the tape from the box’s edge, lifting the lid to peer inside. She yelped before almost dropping the box, quickly clutching it to her chest to keep the lid shut as tightly as possible while yelling for you to tape it back up. This little scene didn’t catch much attention from customers, still caught up in their own conversations as the two of you freaked out behind the counter.

Once it was taped and back in its spot, you watched her sink to her knees and shiver. “What, what is it?” You demanded, now worried yourself. What did the spider have to do with the strange pirate, and why had it worked her up so much.

“You didn’t catch a spider at all… we should have been watching closer, oh god-” She babbled on, seemingly lost in her own head before snapping her head up to look you straight in the eye. “That clown has a 15 million berry bounty and is nothing to scoff at- and we just kidnapped his left hand!” She whisper-shouted, not wanting to let any customer hear what had just happened as your face paled to match hers. You realized that his missing hand earlier hadn’t been oyur eyes fooling you, he must have eaten a devil fruit and-

oh god.

“Can he still feel his hand when it’s… detached?” You asked, mortified at the nod you received in response. Neither of you had any clue what to do, but knew that talking or doing anything more while customers were still around was definitely a bad idea. His face in the stack of wanted posters delivered to the shop later that day didn’t do anything to calm either of you down, and your mind went blank trying to come up with a plan.

That’s how you got here now, the left fist of a feared pirate captain stuffed into a backpack slung over your shoulder as you tried to move as inconspicuously as possible towards the forest. Tossing the bag into the woods would leave it easy to find but remove any chance of you being found as the culprit, and heaven knows your weak-hearted coworker wouldn’t be able to do this herself. You used the shadows and dark to your advantage, trying to ignore the loud, annoying tapping of the hand on the box it was trapped in. 

The last few hours had been just tapping, no doubt the pirate trying to track the hand down easier. You sat in an alleyway to gather yourself for a second, catching your breath and preparing to run the final stretch to the woods. As you moved to sit down, the bag fell off of your shoulder and slammed hard into the brick wall. The tapping stopped, and you felt a huge pang of guilt, more than you could really justify for a pirate of his status.

Your heart won out over your mind as you unwrapped the hand’s makeshift box cage, inspecting it for injury. After a few gentle brushes of your hand, you were surprised as the detached appendage began to hold your hand back. There wasn’t any permanent damage, but you patted it gently as an awkward apology for the rough treatment. You decided to just hold the hand for now, wrestling it back into the box when you were so close to the forest would be useless. You sat there for multiple minutes, patting the hand absentmindedly as your heart began to race just a little less, when you finally came up with a bit better of a plan. 

Sitting in the forest alone was dangerous for a lonely hand, and you were going to return it to the pirate yourself. He should be grateful, maybe even give you a reward, and he would have no way of proving you didn’t find the hand now and choose to return it immediately.

The ship was anything but subtle, docked not in the main harbor but off to the side with flashy lights and colors. You shoved your hand into your pocket along with Buggy’s, trying to communicate to him with two quick squeezes even if you didn’t really know what it is you were trying to say. You marveled at the ship before you, the circus tent mounted on the top was unlike anything you’d ever seen before in this small town. It was extremely out of the ordinary for you to encounter pirates or even explore at night at all.

It made the majesty of the ship all the more striking, having to force your shaky legs to keep moving as your nerves increased. Your head yelled to turn back as your heart only thought of the warm, gentle caress of the hand holding yours in your pocket. It never gripped painfully, but it was a tight, almost pleading grip. You could feel a slight shake in the hand, your heart ruling that you’d make sure it found it’s way back to its owner without any issue.

Immediately upon boarding the ship you were halted, oddball pirates inspecting you for any signs of danger before threatening you, asking what your business on board their ship was. “I just want to speak to your captain, please.” You said, as calmly as you could muster. The whole ship seemed like a party as of right now, even the pirates surrounding you seemed tipsy and unserious. One led you into the circus tent, where the partying intensified even more. Loud music, booze, acrobatics, showmanship, and a grand throne in the center of it all.

As you tried not to marvel at everything going around on this insane ship, you zeroed in on the throne. Perched on it lazily, one leg thrown carelessly over the arm was the captain himself, Buggy. He looked out of place despite his costume choices, his face mopey and dull. You squeezed his hand in your pocket again without thinking, surprised as you watched his mouth curve into a small smile before he squeezed back. Still, he looked depressed as he displayed his left arm, handless, perched upon his knee with the empty stub of a wrist actively visible.

You hadn’t realized you stopped to stare until one of the circus pirates guiding you gave you a light shove, causing you to stumble your way through the theatrics until you were right in front of the throne. Buggy barely spared you a glance before looking back out to his crew, watching all their performances intently but without a hint of amusement with any of it on his face. When you finally spoke, his eyes returned to you and stayed there, intimidating but not scary.

“Um, sir- captain? Buggy, I mean. I found your, I mean- I saw it and-” You gave up on your stuttering, opting to pull your hand and his out of your pocket to show instead of tell. You gave it one last squeeze as his face lit up with a huge grin, and you couldn’t help the yell that escaped from you as his hand returned to his body, bringing you along with it.

You were now in the lap of a high-bounty pirate aboard his ship as he didn’t seem to want to let go of your hand, too close for comfort as he grinned and chuckled at your startled expression.“Well, well, well, doll. Holding my hand, and I don’t even know your name.”

Night Owl- ii

(Roronoa Zoro x f!Reader)

University AU - A barista waits for a text back, eventually becoming impatient.

1.7k Words

You spent the rest of your shift frantically checking your phone, distracted from the onslaught of customers.

Usually your lazy coworker would be on your ass about this, you did almost everything as she just took orders most days. This time, she left you alone in your haze. You worked much slower than you usually would as you tried to process the brave move you'd just made on a customer.

Of course, your definition of brave was a bit tame. A phone number on the side of the cup wasn't exactly peak romance, but it was pretty damn good for how tired you were. As the end of your shift creeped ever closer, you thanked the stars for the simple fact that you had the whole day off tomorrow.

By the time tomorrow rolled around, you wished you had something, anything, to do. You had been glued to your messages, waiting for one incoming message that never arrived. At least you got a bit more work done for your classes, phone balanced on your knee as you typed away on the laptop sat comfortably in the crook of your criss-crossed legs. You denied all your roommates’ offers of going out or doing anything at all, nestling in your room to laze the day away.

Next shift, your coworker prodded at your nerves, trying to ease any more information out of you concerning the mystery man who you now knew to be named Zoro.

She didn’t believe he hadn’t even texted you yet, claiming she saw the ‘way he looked at you.’ She had always been a hopeless romantic so you shoved her words aside in your mind, until she suggested going back to the same bar that night.

“He might not even be there, what then?”

“We drink and have some fun, duh~”

She teased and pestered almost relentlessly, now 100% set in the idea while you just made yourself another coffee. The energy she had was almost too much to keep up with, the only way you’d manage was the bitter espresso you now realized needed to be dialed in a bit more.

The evening came around, as did a seemingly infinite barrage of texts from anyone but Zoro. You dressed up a little more than you usually would, and your coworker came over to help with makeup. Soon enough the Uber was at your door, and then at the bar.

You silently prayed he wouldn’t be working, but your prayers were answered with a laugh from fate when the first bartender closest to the end of the bar was green-haired and muscly. That was him, you thought, watching how efficient he could be. It wasn’t overly busy but he still worked like a machine, leaving the only other bartender without much to do at all.

Your coworker groaned at me when I immediately sat at the end of the bar farthest from Zoro, waiting for the other bartender to come take our orders. Mind spinning with all the reasons this was a bad idea, the simple fact he hadn’t texted meant he wasn’t interested… right?

Zoro finished whispering something to the other bartender, too far for you to pick up over the music and shouting, before getting back to work. Their eyes widened at the man’s words, obviously timid and new to the job. A beer was ordered and paid for by your coworker before he disappeared into the back, not paying you any mind before just leaving.

She stuck her tongue out before sipping the frothy drink, smirking. “That’s what you get for being a chicken…” she teased, nudging your shin with her heel from her seat beside you. “Oh, shut up. If this Zoro guy was any interested, wouldn’t I at least get a text back?” “Irrelevant, go make your move girl!” She giggled, now leaving you alone at the bar still with no drink.

You sat waiting, suddenly feeling very awkward. The other bartender didn’t return, and Zoro began working his way down the bar to cover all of his customers. “Oh, it’s you.” He said, a light smile on his features. “Same drink as before?” He began to fill a shaker with ice, pulling out a lime.

“Depends, is it paid for like before?” You quipped back, trying to shake your nerves as he worked away at the drink. This made him chuckle as he finished his pour, topping with the same lime garnish. He was extremely skilled with a knife, captivating my mind as he sliced it so meticulously with ease.

“This one’s on the house, but don’t push your luck…”

This had you grinning, sipping away at the drinks. He was still acting interested, not like someone who would avoid sending you a text. Even being as busy as he was, he still made time to check on you. “Need anything else?” He asked, taking your now emptied glass away. “It’s a shot kind of night, vodka please!”

The plan was to get so drunk you gained some sort of inebriated charisma you were severely lacking. Over the next hour you downed a few shots more than you should have, loosening up and turning into a gigglier, flirtier version of yourself. A few guys had come up to you, and you hadn’t paid for a single drink this far.

Still, your green-haired bartender took their money with a glare. He didn’t seem happy with the attention you were getting, but he still made all of your drinks without any verbal complaints, scaring guys off with no more than a menacing look.

“You’re gonna ruin my scheme here, y’know? I’m gonna drink for free all night, so long as you stop glaring at all the morons trying to woo me~” You teased, bringing your drink to your lips. “Say, you sure this one has no name?” It was another of the lime drinks he made for you, sweet and refreshing on your palate after the nasty shots you’d done.

“Maybe it does, you aren’t hearing it though…”

“And why’s that?” You questioned, curious to know his motive.

“That way I'm the only one makin’ it for you.” He admitted coolly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You were left speechless as he began to help another group of customers, pouring frothy mugs of beer and shots of cheap liquor as you couldn’t do anything but stare. He was so casual, so nonchalant, but he had you blushing like a grade schooler with a stupid crush.

You decided, in your drunken stupor, that you wouldn't let him keep this constant upper hand. The next time he made his way over to where you sat, you immediately asked him the question nagging your mind. “Why haven’t you bothered to text me if you’re gonna flirt with me like this?” You slurred out, thinking you’d finally caught a slip in his confidence.

“Easy, I was asleep all day. After my shift I stopped in for that coffee, and you just happened to be the one who made it. I drank it trying to get some work done, but ended up passed out before I could even start to think. I at least remember the drink being good, so thanks for that.” He smirked, knowing he’d won your little challenge as you sat without words once again. “I can text you later, if you really want. Or, even better.”

He slid a napkin over and pulled a sharpie out of his pocket, scribbling his own number down in quick, messy handwriting. “I’ll be sure to text you if I can read this,” you joked. “I’ll count on it, unless I'm asleep.” He replied with a smile.

You felt a little dumb after his explanation, it was so simple and you’d made such a fuss over it. Your coworker soon snuck up behind you to tell you she was leaving, but you opted to stay and further pester the bartender, he was far more patient than you felt you’d deserved but you still enjoyed talking his ear off.

The two of you flirted and bantered until the early morning, him far more energetic than you since he was used to this schedule. At this point your head rested on the bar and he would only serve you water no matter how much you begged for even a little more booze.

None of the men from before even bothered with trying to take you home, it was obvious you’d captured the bartender’s attention and he wasn’t going to let some creep steal you away. As you rested your head on the bar, humming along to the quieted music, a gentle hand squeezed your shoulder.

When you lifted your head, you were met with those deep, dark eyes. Intoxicating moreso than the generous pours of alcohol you’d consumed, albeit looking at you like you were delicate, something to be handled gently. This was reinforced with the softness of the touch on your shoulder, barely there as he stirred you to be a little more awake. “You have a ride home?” He asked, his deep voice rumbling and scruffy as he attempted a whisper. You shook your head, and he nodded. While you had been face down on the bar, humming and snoozing, he had cleaned up for the night. 

He rounded the bar, offering his arm for support when you stood. You were still quite tipsy, clinging to the forearm presented to you like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Being a bartender, Zoro had plenty of experience with helping drunk people around, which was very apparent in how patiently he handled you.

You ended up in the passenger seat of his car, typing your address into his phone and leaning back into the comfortable seat. It felt like only a blink until you were home, he watched you carefully as you unbuckled your seatbelt, you didn’t even think before leaning over the center console of the car to leave a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, for the ride I mean…” You mumbled, half-asleep and drunk.

This was finally the way you got him to blush, cracking his hard exterior just a bit as you got out of his car and took a second to admire the dopey grin on his face. By the time you’d gotten back inside, you had a text from an unknown number.

‘When you aren’t so drunk, I'll treat you to dinner. I’ll even give you a real kiss this time ;)’

Night Owl

(Roronoa Zoro x f!Reader)

University AU - A bartender and a barista have a lot in common, except working hours.

1.5k Words

You couldn't help but flop right onto the nearest barstool, much to the amusement of your friends.

It was a long shift at the cafe this morning, rush after rush of students ordering complicated drinks, and on top of it all you had run out of the house coffee beans mid-shift. It was overall hectic, and thinking about it made your head hurt.

You let out a deep breath, trying to relax and join in on the conversation your friends were taking part in, waiting (slightly impatiently) for the busy staff to take your order. Soon enough, a glass with a colourful drink and lime-peel garnish slid in front of you across the bar, prompting your eyes to rise up and meet that of the green-haired bartender who had made it.

"Sorry, I uh- this must be someone else's. I haven't ordered anything yet..."

"Someone bought that for you, looks like you could use it."

Usually someone speaking to you like that would be an insult, but the stress of the day combined with free booze soothed your nerves as you took a sip. Sweeter than what you usually went for, but obviously very strong. Nice. You looked back up to the bartender, who was now making a drink for your friend, to ask him about it.

"Who do I have to thank? And what is this?"

He shrugged his shoulders, quickly replying before flying down the bar to serve another patron. All he gave was some half-assed excuse of being too busy for chit-chat, which got on your nerves just a bit.

No matter, the night was still young, and whoever it was that had bought the drink could reveal themselves if they really wanted to. After that, you bought your own drinks, all from the slightly grumpy green-haired bartender who seemed to be manning your section.

You couldn't lie to yourself, he was quite attractive. The way he worked the crowded place seemed almost memorized, moving robotically and making drinks in an extremely efficient way, albeit less polite than what was usually expected from the profession. When he caught you staring at his arms while shaking a martini, you quickly looked down at your drink again to avoid his cold eyes.

Soon enough, you had drank enough to really loosen up after the hard day. Now you were the centre of attention in your group, making everyone laugh seemed to come easy after a few drinks.

A few of your friends teased you about the secret admirer, but you simply brushed it off. Buying just one drink was no big deal, especially if the reasoning the bartender described was true. Simply a pity drink, courtesy of the bags under your eyes. This had nobody else in the group convinced, still teasing as they all left to dance.

Your sore legs begged you not to join, as did your terrible coordination. You were perfectly content to stay seated at the bar, less busy thanks to majority of the drunk college students taking to the dance floor. You smiled a bit at the sight of the bartenders relaxing a bit after surviving the rush, seeing the same look in their eyes that you had held in your own just earlier that day.

"So, are you free enough to tell me what kind of drink that was- ...?" You searched for a name tag on the bartender's chest, met with nothing but faded old t-shirt to stare at. "Not a drink with a name, really. Just the result of an experiment, was it any good?"

The bartender seemed much more willing to chat once the orders had died down significantly, still not giving his name. "If it isn't a real drink, how did someone order it?" You challenged, leaning onto the bar with a smile. The drink had been quite good, and while you were only looking for the name so you could order another, you weren't the type to turn down a playful remark after a drink or two.

"Nobody ordered it from me." The bartender stated, plain and simple. He turned his back, face unbothered as he hauled a giant, heavy tray of dirty dishes into the back before you had time to ask any more questions. In the time he was gone, you managed to put two and two together that he was the one who had bought that drink.

As you began to blush, taking a second to fix your hair, you wondered his reasoning. He had been so nonchalant about it, you didn't even know his name! Then again, he didn't seem like the type to be buying girls drinks at all. The dumpy bar was affordable for college students, but you were sure they couldn't be paying the student bartenders anything better than minimum wage right now. That doesn't budget into buying drinks for people just because, but before you could think any harder about it he emerged from the back room again, to which you quickly spoke.

"I'd like another of whatever that was, with the lime peel."

"Sure thing."

He didn't even bother to look up. No smile, no flirt, not even a glance. Usually when someone bought you a drink, they had some sort of motive, but this guy just seemed to be focused on what he was doing. While you could respect it as a drink-making employee yourself, it was just... perplexing.

Part of you was slightly disappointed at the lack of attention. Your heart had skipped a beat when you figured out the gesture originally, especially after checking out the bartender before you had even known he was the one behind the gift. When he slid the new drink over, you flashed him a smile of your own.

"I'll cover this one," you joked, taking a sip. This got a small smile, one side of his mouth pulling up, before he looked down again to polish some glasses. Damn.

To hell with being subtle, you thought, asking outright. "Why buy me a drink, then?" At this, he met your gaze. This wasn't a cold look, it could even be mistaken as... soft. Kind.

"Like I said, you looked like you needed it. Tough day?"

While you knew the words really should have pulled some kind of hurt feelings from you, they came off too genuine to be offended by. Instead you went along with his question, giving him the details of your shitty work day and even making him laugh a few times at your overdramatic recount.

By the time your friends returned from the dance floor, his attention had completely moved from his work to fully being invested in you. Still making drinks and cleaning the bar up, but his eyes met yours instead of whatever his hands were doing. He stayed close to where you sat, nodding along as you spoke. Before you could ask for his number or even remember to get his name, your friends had dragged you out to catch the uber with more than enough suggestive teasing about your chit chat with the hot bartender.

In the uber back home, you couldn't help but rest your head in your hands. You had gotten lost in talking, and he seemed so happy to listen. So much so you'd forgotten to get his name or really any information about him at all. The pounding in your head from earlier was back, no longer from the stress of work but at the pathetic lack of charisma you had.

That, along with the opening shift at the cafe the next morning.

You would think that being a barista would get someone into the early-bird mindset, but that was never the case. Shots of espresso had both built your tolerance to the bitter, strong coffee and kept you awake through countless mornings, your coworker the only other lifeline through those 5am shifts.

Today, she was happy to listen to your overtired babbling about the bartender you'd fumbled last night, giggling at your description of the man's green hair and strong, toned arms. You wished you could hate her for how peppy and energetic she could be this early, but the positive attitude had definitely grown on you over the time you'd worked together.

This sentiment was lost, though, when she disappeared into the back room. It was the weekend, which meant less students bombarding the shop to fuel their before-class coffee addiction but still enough people that it was quite the nuisance to run solo.

You grumbled, annoyed at the girl before realizing what she had done. The man waiting at the counter looking confused at the menu was the very same green-haired bartender from last night, looking just as tired as you felt.

Without hesitation you brewed up a latte, pulling out all your little flavouring tricks. Double shot, syrups, even the good cinnamon to dust on top of the perfect milk-froth heart. You approached the register, sliding the cup over to him.

"Someone bought that for you, looks like you could use it."

You grinned, using the very same line from the night before as you saw the recognition cross his features. This time, you had the home base advantage and would not be fumbling this again. "Could I get a name for the order?" You asked, pulling out a sharpie.

"Oh- yeah sure, it's Zoro."

The name burned into your memory, repeating over and over again.

You popped the lid off of the sharpie before scribbling away. What he found while walking out of the shop wasn't his name on the side of the cup, though. It was a phone number, along with a doodled-on heart.

Masterlist

Update Status: Temporary Hiatus. I deeply apologize🥹

The Request/Ask box is open only for the Monthly One-shot Voting. I'M NOT GOING TO BE TAKING ANY OUTSIDE REQUESTS/ASK. Any request outside will be ignored.

The ask box is also open if you have questions about my fic or everyday things, brainrot, headcanon or silly thoughts, etc. Please no harassment or harmful messages.

Author Status: Hello to my lovely readers and to those who are new here, 

I’m slowly getting out of my writing block phase as my work and private life threw me a massive curve ball for the past few years. And so, if you sent me a request all those years ago, I would like to apologize for not posting anything.

My plan is to prioritize writing for myself, for now, to refresh myself and not put any massive pressure on any writing. As for the requests that I have received, I might slowly write them out though it might take a while. So please wait patiently. 

Thank you for your support and understanding. 

Blog Content:

This blog is a Character X Reader multi-fandom blog.

I might write more for anime, manga, and manhwa but I will also write books or movie characters that I like.

I also post fanfic with my own OC or self-insert.

JJK/Jujutsu Kaisen

Solo Leveling

Moriarty the Patriot/Yuukoku no Patriot

KNY/Kimetsu no Yaiba

Haikyuu

KHR/Katekyo Hitman Reborn

BNHA/Boku no Hero Academia

MDZS/Mo Dao Zu Shi

OP/One Piece

Under the Oak Tree

Just saw a fanfic where reader was a mermaid that turns into a human and the first thing it said was “PALE, fragile legs” Seriously man?? I swear y’all hate black readers😭

𝓐 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭 𝓰𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓹 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮!

Summary: A little kid goes up to the reader, completely in love and confessing their love.

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓴𝓮𝔂 𝓓. 𝓛𝓾𝓯𝓯𝔂:

You were walking with Luffy through the bustling center of town, sun on your shoulders and a stick of meat skewers in your hand—his third, technically, though you were now helping him finish it.

The Straw Hats had stopped at the island of Ferrosa for the night. It was bright, warm, and full of energetic locals. Children ran freely in the streets, while vendors called out from painted booths with smiles and good deals. The city square was filled with color, laughter, and the sweet smell of roasted honey nuts and grilled seafood.

“I love this place!” Luffy declared, stretching his arms behind his head with a grin wide enough to rival the sun.

You chuckled. “You love every place that feeds you.”.

He turned to you and nodded seriously. “Well, yeah. But this one has meat and you.”.

Your heart did an embarrassing little flip, and you were about to tease him when—

“Excuse me, miss!”.

You turned and blinked down at the source of the tiny voice.

A little boy stood there. He couldn’t have been more than six, with dark curls, oversized suspenders, and big round eyes filled with awe. He held a red flower in both hands, like it was a sacred offering.

You blinked. “Hi there, little guy.”.

“I saw you and… and I just…” He shuffled awkwardly, cheeks turning pink. “I think you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen. And I love you.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “You… what?”.

He thrust the flower forward like he couldn’t take it anymore. “Please marry me!”.

The petals trembled in his tiny hands. He looked like he might explode from sheer determination.

You stood frozen for a moment. Then you laughed softly, kneeling down to his level with your heart melting into a puddle. “That’s really sweet of you, but I don’t think I can marry you just yet.”.

The boy’s face crumpled slightly.

You quickly added, “But if you still feel the same when you’re older… you can ask me again, okay?”.

He brightened at that, sticking the flower into your hand like it sealed a vow. “I’ll train every day! I’m gonna be strong enough to protect you from pirates!”.

That made Luffy blink. “Huh? Protect from pirates?”.

The boy looked up at Luffy. Then frowned. “You look familiar. Are you one of those guys with the bounty posters?”.

Luffy tilted his head, suddenly all grins again. “Yup! I’m the future King of the Pirates!”.

The boy’s jaw dropped in horror. He grabbed your hand. “Miss! You can’t be around pirates! He’s dangerous!”.

Luffy burst out laughing.

You choked on your own giggle. “He’s actually… with me.”

The boy’s face paled like you just told him the ocean had swallowed the sun.

“Nooo!” he cried. “You’ve already been taken!”.

“I’m not taken,” you said gently, fighting the urge to scoop him into a hug. “He’s not a bad pirate.”.

Luffy leaned down to look the boy straight in the eyes. “You gotta get way stronger if you’re gonna protect her from me. I’m super tough.”

The little boy squared his shoulders. “I will! I’m gonna grow up and beat you in a duel and save her from your evil clutches!”.

Then he turned dramatically, wiping at his eyes and sprinting off into the crowd like a mini knight on a quest.

You stared after him, flower still in hand. “…That was so cute.”.

Luffy crossed his arms, puffing his cheeks out. “Hmph.”.

You looked up at him with a grin. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”.

“I’m not,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”.

“He gave you a flower,” Luffy said, voice sulky. “And a marriage proposal. That’s like… serious pirate talk.”.

You giggled. “You’ve never proposed to me.”.

He opened his mouth… then paused, as if this realization had just hit him like a cannonball.

“…Should I??”.

Now you froze. “Wait, what?”.

Luffy grabbed your hand, expression suddenly thoughtful in that rare, golden way he got when he was trying really hard to process feelings he didn’t have words for.

“I don’t know about marriage,” he said slowly. “But I do know I wanna be with you forever. Even when I’m King of the Pirates.”.

Your heart skipped so many beats you thought it might give up entirely.

“…That counts,” you whispered.

He beamed and gently took the flower from your hand, tucking it behind your ear. “Good. Now you look even prettier.”.

You looked up at him through your lashes, warmth blooming in your chest.

Behind you, somewhere in the crowd, a tiny voice cried out: “I’LL COME BACK FOR YOU WHEN I’M TEN!”.

You laughed until your stomach hurt. Luffy just grinned and grabbed your hand again, as if to say: Let him try.

𝓡𝓸𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓸𝓪 𝓩𝓸𝓻𝓸:

The sun was just beginning to dip below the rooftops of Shalora Town, casting everything in hues of gold and orange. You and Zoro had gotten separated from the rest of the crew after a casual afternoon exploring the outdoor markets. Well, "separated" might be a generous word. Zoro had gotten lost, as he always did, and you had stayed with him to avoid letting him wander into a completely different district or, knowing him, the sea.

Now the two of you were walking side by side down a quiet stone path along the edge of a large plaza. You carried a small bag of snacks, tossing roasted nuts into your mouth every now and then. Zoro, arms crossed and swords at his hip, walked a little behind you, quietly watching the shadows stretch longer across the buildings.

It was peaceful. The kind of peaceful Zoro didn’t mind. No one was talking too much, no one was challenging him to a fight, and for once, no chaos.

Until—

“Miss!”.

A tiny voice broke through the quiet, and you turned to see a small boy bounding toward you from across the plaza. He was probably five or six, with spiky dark hair and oversized boots that made his feet look like loaves of bread. He clutched something behind his back and stared at you with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

You blinked. “Uh… hey there?”.

The boy came to a halt, panting, then stood up as straight as he could. “I saw you from over there, and I just—I just needed to tell you something important!”.

Zoro slowed beside you, eyebrow raised.

The kid took a breath, then yanked out the thing he’d been hiding. A slightly crushed yellow flower.

“I think you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen!” he blurted. “Please marry me!”.

There was a silence.

You stared at the flower. Then at the kid.

Then you let out a little laugh, half from shock, half from how absurdly adorable it was. “Wow, that’s a bold move. How old are you?”.

“Six and a half!” he said proudly.

You squatted down so you were closer to his level. “That’s a very sweet offer. But I don’t think I can marry anyone under ten, okay?”.

He looked disappointed for a split second. But then he puffed out his chest. “Then I’ll come back when I’m ten! I’m gonna be a swordsman, just like the legendary Pirate Hunter Zoro! I’ll train every day so I can protect you!”.

Zoro, who had remained quiet up until now, suddenly stiffened. His eye twitched. “What?”.

The boy turned to look up at him. “You look kinda like him!”.

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh.

“I am him,” Zoro said flatly.

The boy gasped. “NO WAY.”.

Zoro crossed his arms. “And I’m already protecting her, so you can save your training.”.

You stood quickly, elbowing Zoro gently. “Zoro…”.

The kid narrowed his eyes at the swordsman towering over him. “You don’t even look like her boyfriend.”.

You choked.

Zoro scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“You don’t hold her hand. Or give her flowers. Or even say she’s pretty!”.

You turned red instantly.

Zoro’s mouth opened. Closed. His eye darted to you.

You raised your eyebrows, not hiding your amusement at all. “He’s got a point.”.

Zoro looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. “Tch. I don’t need to say that stuff. She already knows.”.

“But I said it!” the boy pointed out triumphantly, holding up the flower again. “That means I’m winning!”.

Zoro glared down at the kid. “You think you can take me, shrimp?”.

The boy nodded with reckless confidence. “When I’m ten!”.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You laughed so hard you had to hold your sides, and the kid looked between the two of you with a proud smile.

You crouched again and gently took the flower from him. “Thank you. I’ll keep this safe until you’re ready to challenge him.”.

He beamed. “Okay! Remember me, okay?! I’m gonna be your future husband!”.

He turned on his heel and sprinted back into the plaza, shouting something about sword training and true love.

You were still giggling when Zoro muttered, “What the hell just happened?”.

“You got challenged by a six-year-old. For my hand in marriage.”.

Zoro stared ahead, jaw tight.

You leaned close. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”.

“…He’s going to trip over his own sword the second he picks it up.”.

“That wasn’t what I meant.”.

Zoro glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Then, after a long moment, grumbled, “You look pretty. All the time.”.

You blinked. “What was that?”.

“I said you look pretty, alright? Even with stupid flowers in your hair. Especially with them.”.

You paused. Then grinned. “Wow. Two rivals confessing in one day. I feel spoiled.”.

Zoro flushed slightly and looked away. “Shut up.”.

You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“That kid’s got guts,” you murmured. “But don’t worry. You’re still winning.”.

He smirked. “Good. I wasn’t planning to lose.”.

𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓲:

It was late afternoon in the port city of Anemone Bay, the sky glowing in shades of pink and orange as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. You and Nami were strolling along a quiet street by the seaside, bags full of trinkets from the day’s adventures.

Nami seemed particularly pleased with herself, having just pulled off an incredible bargain at the local market. You couldn’t help but admire her negotiating skills as she playfully tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Another successful deal!” she said with a satisfied smirk. “Honestly, I might start charging for advice.”.

You grinned. “You could probably make a fortune.”.

“I already am,” Nami teased, tapping her purse. “What’s a little more?”.

You walked side by side down the cobblestone path, content to enjoy the quiet moment together. The breeze was warm and pleasant, and the waves of the nearby ocean lapped gently against the shore.

Everything was peaceful... that is, until—

“Excuse me?”.

You turned to see a small boy running toward you, his little feet stumbling as he tried to close the distance. His face was flushed with excitement, and his eyes sparkled like the sun glinting off water.

Nami raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about?”.

The boy came to a stop in front of you, out of breath, and handed you a single daisy. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world,” he said earnestly, his cheeks turning pink.

You blinked, surprised at the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”.

“I wanna marry you!” he exclaimed with all the confidence a six-year-old could muster.

You stared for a moment, trying to process what was happening. “Oh, well, I’m flattered, but I’m a little old for you,” you said gently.

He puffed out his chest, not deterred by your response. “I’ll get stronger! I’ll become a brave pirate, and I’ll fight off sea monsters and protect you from everything! I’ll even build you a ship!”.

“That’s quite the offer!” you said, smiling at his determination.

He nodded eagerly. “I’ve been saving my candy money to buy you a ring when I’m older!”.

Nami let out a small chuckle, leaning slightly to the side as she crossed her arms, clearly entertained by the little boy’s persistence. You could see the corner of her lips twitching.

You gently took the flower from his hand. “That’s very thoughtful of you. How about you come find me when you’re a bit older? Maybe when you’ve become the greatest pirate on the seas?”.

The boy looked slightly disappointed but nodded enthusiastically. “I will! And I’ll never forget you!”.

With that, he turned and sprinted off down the street, yelling something about finding treasure and learning how to use a sword.

Nami turned to you with a smirk. “Well, looks like you’ve got competition.”.

You let out a laugh. “I don’t think he can compete with you.”.

She glanced at you, an eyebrow raised. “Oh? Why’s that?”.

“Because you already are my treasure,” you said softly, your heart fluttering slightly as you gazed at her.

Nami rolled her eyes but smiled, clearly flustered despite her best efforts to hide it. “Smooth,” she muttered, but the hint of a blush on her cheeks betrayed her.

“You’re my number one,” you added, grinning.

Nami sighed dramatically, but you could tell she was pleased. “Well, if that kid ever comes back with a treasure chest, you’re all his.”.

You laughed. “I’ll think about it... but I’m pretty sure he’ll need to work on his swordsmanship before he can even hold a candle to you.”.

“Good,” Nami said with a teasing smile. “Let him try. I’ll be right here, defending my honor.”.

You chuckled and pulled her close, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “No competition here. You’re the best.”.

Nami smiled and snuggled into your side, walking with you toward the setting sun. “As long as you remember it.”.

𝓤𝓼𝓸𝓹𝓹:

It had been a lovely day in the port city of Anemone Bay — a cheerful, art-filled town known for its bright murals, handmade kites, and community storytelling shows. Naturally, Usopp had spent the entire afternoon performing for a crowd of kids, regaling them with tales of his legendary exploits — most of them (okay, all of them) highly exaggerated, but with just enough truth to keep it thrilling.

You sat at the edge of the impromptu stage in the town square, resting your chin in your hand and smiling fondly as Usopp mimicked the mighty roar of a Sea King he’d “fought off with one hand tied and the other building a cannon out of driftwood.”.

The children were eating it up — wide-eyed, gasping, some mimicking his “battle stance.” You were eating it up too, if you were honest. Watching Usopp in his element like this was something else.

The crowd began to disperse as the sky turned golden. The children ran back to their homes, some holding sticks like swords, others shouting about giants or sky islands. Usopp stepped down with a proud puff of his chest, swaggering slightly as he approached you.

“Well? That was a good one, right?” he asked, voice still a little dramatic. “They’ll be telling my stories for years.”.

You grinned. “I mean… I tell your stories, and I’m pretty biased.”.

“Exactly!” he said proudly, resting a hand on his hip. “You’re clearly a woman of taste.”.

But before he could bask any longer in his imaginary spotlight, a tiny voice interrupted:

“Excuse me, miss?”.

You both turned.

A little boy stood there — no older than six — with big green eyes and fluffy brown hair tucked under a handmade paper pirate hat. He clutched a stick in one hand and a small daisy in the other.

You blinked. “Oh, hello there.”.

He stepped forward, holding out the flower with both hands and a serious look. “I just wanted to say… I think you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world.”.

Your heart nearly burst. “That’s so sweet of you.”.

“I wanna marry you!” he declared, cheeks turning pink but shoulders square. “I’ll become a brave pirate and protect you from sea monsters and giants! I’ll even build you a ship!”.

Usopp’s jaw slowly dropped.

You smiled, kneeling down to his level. “Wow, that’s quite an offer.”.

He nodded solemnly. “I’ve been saving candy money for a ring.”.

Usopp stepped forward abruptly, waving his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down there, future pirate king! You’re trying to propose to my girlfriend!”.

The little boy blinked up at him, unimpressed. “Who are you?”.

Usopp reeled back like he’d been slapped. “Who am I?! I’m CAPTAIN USOPP! SNIPER KING! GOD OF THE SEA AND SNACKTIME!”.

The boy raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of you.”.

Usopp immediately went pale.

You had to turn your face away to keep from laughing.

“But she likes me,” the boy said firmly. “She took my flower.”.

“She takes my heart every day!” Usopp cried dramatically, throwing an arm across his chest. “With every smile, she stabs me with Cupid’s sniper bolt!”.

You looked between the two of them, completely torn between swooning and cackling.

The kid planted his hands on his hips. “I’ll duel you for her.”.

Usopp sputtered. “A duel?! She’s not a prize! She’s a person!”.

You reached out and gently ruffled the boy’s hair. “Hey now, no fighting. I’m very flattered, but Usopp and I are already together.”.

He frowned deeply. “But you’re perfect.”.

Your heart melted all over again. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”.

He scuffed his foot on the ground. “I’m gonna come back for you when I’m a grown-up. And taller. With a real sword.”.

Then he turned, tossed the stick like a baton, and marched off into the sunset — paper hat wobbling nobly in the breeze.

You looked up at Usopp, who still looked mildly shell-shocked.

“…Babe?”.

He slowly turned to you, eyes wide. “I just got out-heroed by a kindergartener.”.

You snorted. “It was close. You nearly had him with the ‘Cupid sniper bolt’ line.”.

Usopp flopped beside you with a groan. “I need to step up my romance game…”.

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I think you’re doing just fine.”.

“…What if he comes back with a treasure chest?”.

You grinned. “Then I’ll use it to throw you a fancy anniversary party.”.

He sighed. “You’re worth more than all the treasure on the Grand Line.”.

You tilted your head. “Aww. See? That was pretty heroic.”.

“Write that down,” he said quickly. “I want that in my next story.”.

𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓳𝓲:

It was a warm afternoon aboard the Thousand Sunny. The crew had docked at a vibrant island, one that was known for its incredible food markets. The air smelled of fresh fruit, pastries, and savory dishes, which had Sanji practically bouncing with excitement. The island was a perfect haven for him to explore, and he was practically drooling at the thought of all the delicious meals he could whip up in the kitchen.

You were walking alongside Sanji, enjoying the moment of calm before the crew dove headfirst into exploring the island. You’d often found these quiet moments with Sanji to be the most peaceful, as he was so full of energy when cooking, but around you, he was always incredibly sweet and kind.

“So, what do you think, Y/n? Should I make some of my world-famous omelets for tonight? Or maybe a seafood platter—oh, I could do a grilled fish with some vegetables!” Sanji was rambling excitedly, his hands moving as though he were already preparing the dishes in mid-air.

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing as always, Sanji. Maybe a bit of everything?”.

Sanji’s eyes sparkled. “Now that’s what I like to hear! You’ve got good taste, Y/n!” He beamed, clearly excited at the prospect of cooking for you.

As you walked, a small voice suddenly interrupted your conversation. “Excuse me, miss?”.

You stopped in your tracks, turning toward the source of the voice. Standing in front of you was a young boy, no older than six or seven. His hair was messy, his clothes a bit worn, but there was a confident, determined look in his bright eyes. He held something behind his back, clearly shy but still mustering the courage to speak.

Sanji’s eyes narrowed, instantly picking up on the situation. His hand went instinctively to the cigarette he always had, but he didn’t light it—he just gripped it tightly. He was clearly sizing up the situation, the slight tension in his posture unmistakable.

The boy stepped forward, his little chest puffing out with the seriousness of his words. “I just wanted to say... you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen!” He blurted out, holding a single wildflower in his hand. He held it up to you, his cheeks bright red. “Will you marry me when I grow up?”.

You blinked, taken aback by the boldness and sincerity in the boy’s confession. You bent down to his level, your smile soft and encouraging. “Oh, that’s very sweet of you. But, you know, marriage is a big deal, and you’re still so young.”.

The boy shook his head vigorously, undeterred. “I’ll be the best cook in the world when I’m older! I’ll make the best meals ever, just like you, miss! And I’ll build the biggest kitchen on a ship, just for you!”.

You smiled, touched by his earnestness. “That’s very ambitious of you. I’m sure you’ll be an incredible cook when you grow up. But maybe... focus on your training first, yeah?”.

Sanji’s lips curled into a slight smirk, but his eyes were full of a mixture of amusement and protectiveness. He stepped a little closer to you, a subtle way of putting his presence between you and the young admirer. “Oh? So, you’re going to be a cook, huh?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice teasing. “Well, let me tell you, kid, being the best chef in the world isn’t easy. You’ve got a long way to go before you can match up to someone as amazing as Y/n.".

The little boy puffed out his chest, looking up at Sanji with wide eyes. “I’ll do my best! I’ll train hard, and one day I’ll be the best cook, just like you!”.

Sanji chuckled, his protective nature kicking in, but also a little amused by the boy’s determination. “Well, kid, it takes more than just cooking to win someone’s heart. You’ll need to bring out the charm, just like I do.” Sanji winked dramatically, obviously proud of his skills in both cooking and charming people.

The boy’s eyes shone with excitement. “I’ll do that too! I’ll be strong, I’ll cook, and I’ll be charming just like you!”.

You smiled softly, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair. “You’ve got a lot of spirit. I’m sure you’ll do great things one day.”.

The boy looked up at you with determination in his eyes. “I’ll come back when I’m older, and then... I’ll be good enough to marry you!”.

Sanji’s eyes softened, but he couldn’t resist giving the boy a teasing glance. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for a little guy. But I’ll tell you one thing—nobody is taking Y/n from me. You’d better be prepared to work hard if you want to catch up to me.”.

The boy smiled, giving a salute with all the seriousness a child could muster. “I’ll be ready, I promise!”.

With that, the boy turned and ran off, disappearing into the distance. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him, his pirate hat flying off as he bolted away.

Sanji let out a small sigh, crossing his arms again. “Yohohoho... looks like I’ve got a little rival, huh?”.

You chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. “It’s cute, don’t you think? He’s got big dreams.”.

Sanji’s eyes softened, but his tone was firm. “I don’t care how cute it is. You’re mine, Y/n. No one’s going to steal you from me, not even some little kid who’s dreaming of being the best chef on the seas.”.

You smiled, touched by his protectiveness. “You don’t have to worry, Sanji. I’m right here with you.”.

Sanji grinned, his usual charm returning. “Of course you are. And don’t worry, Y/n, I’ll make sure to cook for you every day, all while keeping an eye on anyone who tries to swoop in.” He winked, pulling you closer with a mischievous smile. “You’re my treasure, and no one’s taking you from me.”.

You laughed, feeling the warmth of his affection as you walked with him toward the market. “You’re right, Sanji. I’m yours.”.

As the two of you continued on, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of love for him. No matter how many admirers came and went, Sanji would always be the one who captured your heart with his fiery passion for cooking and his tender care for you.

𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓸 𝓡𝓸𝓫𝓲𝓷:

The air was warm as the crew spent the afternoon on a quiet island, relaxing after a long stretch of adventure on the Grand Line. You and Robin had found a peaceful spot near a small seaside café, where the sound of waves mixed with the quiet chatter of locals enjoying their day. Robin was reading one of her treasured books, her posture relaxed as she leaned against the stone wall, her legs crossed underneath her. You were seated beside her, watching the world pass by, enjoying the rare moment of calm.

Robin’s fingers traced the edge of the pages gently, her expression soft as she absorbed the knowledge contained in the text. You could spend hours just watching her read — the way she was so absorbed in her books, lost to the world around her.

Everything felt perfect... until—

“Excuse me, miss?”.

You turned to see a small boy approaching, barely six or seven years old, with wide, curious eyes and a paper pirate hat atop his head. He was clutching something small in his hand.

You gave him a friendly smile. “Hello there. How can we help you?”.

The boy looked a bit nervous at first but then gathered his courage. “I, uh... I just wanted to tell you that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” His voice was tentative, but he held his head high as if rehearsing something. “And I think you’re amazing. You should be a queen, or even a pirate king! I can’t let you sail the seas alone, so...”.

You blinked, surprised, and glanced at Robin for a moment. She hadn’t looked up from her book yet, but her posture had stiffened slightly. It was clear she was watching the interaction out of the corner of her eye.

The boy’s voice grew more confident as he pressed forward: “I want to marry you! When I grow up and become the best pirate, I’ll protect you. I’ll even build you a ship with a golden figurehead! You’ll never have to worry about anything again!”.

You were taken aback by how determined he sounded. “Well, thank you. That’s very sweet of you,” you said gently, trying to find the right words.

The boy continued, unphased, “I’ve been saving up my allowance, and I’m going to buy you a ring. When I’m older, I’ll come find you!”.

Robin finally looked up from her book, her lips twitching in amusement as she caught your eye. The corners of her mouth turned upward as she saw the adorable earnestness in the boy’s face.

You chuckled softly. “You’re very brave for someone so young, but I think you still have a lot of growing to do before we can think about that. Maybe come find me again when you’re older, and we’ll see what happens then?”.

The boy’s face lit up with hope. “I’ll do that! I won’t forget you, and I’ll make sure to become the best pirate ever!”.

With that, he handed you the small flower he had clutched in his hands — a wild daisy — and turned, running off with a proud swagger that belied his age.

You watched him go, holding the flower. “Well, that was... unexpected.”.

Robin closed her book with a soft smile, the teasing edge to her voice unmistakable. “He certainly has great ambition.”.

You glanced over at her. “I think he meant it. He really wants to be the best pirate to protect me.”.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “And you think you’ll be his treasure?” she asked, her voice light, but there was a certain possessiveness there that you noticed. A part of you knew that Robin, despite her calm demeanor, was fiercely protective — especially when it came to you.

“I don’t think he has a chance,” you teased, giving her a wink. “But he sure is determined. Do I have to worry about him challenging me to a duel when he’s older?”.

Robin smirked, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. “If he shows up with a treasure chest one day, I might have to start charging him for interest.”.

You laughed softly and leaned closer to her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “No one could ever replace you, Robin.”.

She tilted her head, her expression softening, but there was still a hint of playfulness in her eyes. “I certainly hope not.”.

Then, almost as if on cue, she leaned in and kissed you, her lips warm against yours as if to claim you once more. When she pulled away, there was a slight smile on her face — one that was both knowing and fond. “You’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”.

You smiled, holding her hand gently. “I won’t forget. But if that kid ever grows up to be a famous pirate, I think we might need to keep an eye on him.”.

Robin chuckled and shook her head. “Well, he’ll have to get past me first.”.

𝓕𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓴𝔂:

It was a sunny afternoon, the crew relaxing after a long journey through a particularly treacherous part of the Grand Line. Anemone Bay was a peaceful town, with bright buildings and a bustling port that made it a perfect spot to take a break. You and Franky were wandering through the streets, with Franky proudly showing off his latest “upgrades” to his robot arm — apparently, the hydraulics could now crush rocks with ease.

“CHECK IT OUT! I CALL IT… THE ‘FRANKY SMASHER 3000!’” Franky announced loudly, flexing his mechanical arm dramatically for anyone nearby to see.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sure it’ll come in handy when we fight a bunch of rocks, but what else can it do?”.

“Well, besides smash rocks, it can crack open coconuts, open any door, and even hold a glass of water while I drink it. Multi-tasking at its finest!” Franky grinned, clearly pleased with his own ingenuity.

You shook your head in amusement as you strolled alongside him. “You’re something else, Franky.”.

Franky puffed out his chest with pride. “DARN STRAIGHT! I’m a masterpiece! The most amazing cyborg in the world! And you’re lucky to have me!”.

As you laughed and continued walking, a small voice suddenly interrupted your peace.

“Excuse me, miss?”.

You turned to see a little boy, around six or seven years old, running toward you. He was wearing a paper pirate hat that looked a little too big for his head, and his cheeks were flushed with excitement.

Franky’s posture immediately went from relaxed to alert, his gaze narrowing slightly as he turned to look at the kid. “Who’s this, huh?”.

The boy stopped in front of you, holding out a small, wilted flower with a shy smile. “I just wanted to say... you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I want to protect you and keep you safe from the bad guys. I’ll become a strong pirate and build the best ship in the world, just for you!”.

You blinked in surprise at his sincerity. “Oh, that’s really sweet of you,” you said gently, smiling at him. “Thank you.”.

The boy nodded seriously, then blurted out, “I want to marry you! When I’m grown up, I’ll be the strongest pirate, and I’ll be able to protect you and make sure nothing bad ever happens!”.

Franky’s mechanical arm clenched, and you could practically hear the gears turning in his mind.

The boy handed you the wilted flower with both hands, his eyes wide with excitement. “I’ll build a ship with a super powerful cannon just for you! I’ll even put your name on it! You’ll never have to worry about anything again!”.

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. “You sure are confident! But maybe you should wait a little while to work on those plans... I think you still have a lot of growing up to do.”.

The boy puffed out his chest, undeterred. “I’ll do it! I’ll work hard, and when I’m big, I’ll come back and marry you. You’ll see!”.

He turned and ran off, his pirate hat flying behind him as he disappeared into the distance.

You watched him go, a fond smile on your face. “Well, that was unexpected.”.

Franky’s eyes narrowed, and his arm shifted as if preparing for battle. “Did you see that, [Y/N]? He wants you to be his treasure...”.

You glanced at him and grinned. “Don’t worry, Franky. He’s just a little kid.”.

“Little kid?!” Franky practically shouted. “I’ve built a hundred different kinds of ships, but no one’s gonna take away MY treasure!”.

You raised an eyebrow. “Your treasure?”.

Franky crossed his arms over his chest, clearly getting worked up. “Yeah! You’re my treasure, Y/n! And nobody is gonna steal you from me! Not some little kid with a wilted flower, not even if he’s got the coolest pirate ship in the world!”.

You laughed, reaching out and patting his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, Franky. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”.

Franky’s face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah, well, I just... I’m super protective of what’s mine, y’know? You’re the best, Y/n, and I’m not letting anyone get the wrong idea.”.

You chuckled, leaning up to press a quick kiss on his cheek. “I think that little boy’s got some growing to do before he can compete with you.”.

“Yeah, well, if he tries to build a ship to impress you, I’ll build a thousand better ones, each with a super powerful cannon!” Franky grinned, flexing his mechanical arm.

You shook your head in amusement. “I’m pretty sure that kid’s already got a head start on his candy stash. He was really serious about that ring thing.”.

“Well, we’ll just see who can out-pirate who,” Franky said with a smirk, pulling you in closer. “But for now... you’re my treasure, and I’m keeping you safe. No one’s taking you from me. No one.”.

You smiled, snuggling up to him as the sun dipped below the horizon. “I’m yours, Franky. Always.”.

𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓴:

The crew had docked at a small island, with the sun beginning to dip low on the horizon, casting an orange glow across the beach. You, along with Brook, were enjoying the fresh air, strolling leisurely along the shoreline. The waves lapped softly against the sand, and the sound of the sea breeze rustled through the palm trees, creating a perfect atmosphere for a peaceful walk.

Brook, as always, was in a chipper mood, strumming his beloved violin. His music filled the air, a cheerful tune that seemed to make the world around him brighter.

“♪ Yohohoho! Is this not the most wonderful day, Y/n?” Brook asked, his skull grinning wide. “With a fine ocean breeze, a bit of the sunset, and my magnificent music, what more could we possibly need?”.

You smiled at him, your heart warming as you listened to his carefree voice. “I can’t think of anything better,” you said, walking alongside him. The rhythm of his violin brought a sense of calm to the island, and it felt like the perfect moment to just enjoy his company.

But the peaceful atmosphere didn’t last long, as a small voice piped up from behind you.

“Excuse me, sir, miss?”.

You and Brook turned in unison, startled by the sudden interruption. Standing in front of you was a little boy, probably no older than six, with messy hair, a pirate hat that was clearly too big for him, and an expression full of earnest determination. His cheeks were rosy, and his eyes shone with confidence far beyond his years.

Brook immediately straightened up, his eyes lighting up. “Ah, it’s a fan! Yohohoho! What brings you to the mighty crew of the Thousand Sunny?”.

The little boy hesitated for a moment, his hands clutching something behind his back. “I, uh... I wanted to tell you that... you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” His voice was shaky but sincere.

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden declaration. “Oh... that’s very sweet of you, little one,” you said gently.

The boy stepped forward, his hand coming from behind his back to reveal a small wildflower — the kind that grew in the cracks of the stone path. “And I want to marry you when I grow up!” he announced, his voice full of childish conviction. “I’ll build the best ship in the world, just for you. With a giant treasure chest! And I’ll make sure to protect you from the bad guys! And we’ll have all the adventures you could ever want!”.

Brook’s eyes widened dramatically, and he put his violin down, adjusting his bone structure as if preparing for a showdown. “Yohohoho! A bold offer, indeed! But I must say...” He bent slightly toward the boy, his deep, booming voice full of flair, “You might be competing with someone who has already claimed that title...”.

The boy’s eyes went wide with curiosity, unsure of what Brook meant. “You mean... you?”.

Brook nodded grandly. “That’s right! For I, the great and powerful Brook, am already the most charming skeleton on the seas! And, as it turns out... my dear Y/n is my one and only treasure!” He placed a hand over his bony chest and struck a dramatic pose, looking every bit the showman he was.

The little boy looked between you and Brook, processing the information. Then, his face scrunched up in determination. “No! I’ll be stronger than you one day! And I’ll win Y/n’s heart with my grand pirate ship!”.

“Oh no you won’t, kiddo!” Brook said, suddenly pulling out a bouquet of roses he had somehow managed to hide. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to steal away my one and only! I can sing love songs that’ll make their heart skip a beat!” He struck a dramatic pose with his bouquet, looking like he was about to burst into a ballad.

You let out a laugh at the sight of Brook, so absurd and yet so endearing, doing everything he could to hold his ground against the little boy’s bold declaration.

The child, noticing Brook’s antics, hesitated for a moment, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he shrugged, looking at you with a soft smile. “Okay, maybe I’ll come back and try again when I’m bigger.”.

Brook, not one to lose a competition, gave him a victorious smile. “You’d better be ready, little one! Yohohoho!”.

The boy waved goodbye, his little feet carrying him down the path. You watched as he disappeared into the distance, the bouquet of roses still held in Brook’s hands.

Brook turned to you, a wide grin on his face. “See? I told you. No one could ever take my treasure from me.”.

You shook your head with a smile, amused by Brook’s over-the-top reaction. “You really do know how to make an impression, don’t you, Brook?”.

He puffed out his chest proudly, his grin widening. “Of course! A treasure like you deserves only the finest!”.

You chuckled and playfully nudged him. “Well, I think you’ve got some competition when it comes to serenading, but you’re still my favorite skeleton.”.

Brook immediately went into a dramatic bow. “Yohohoho! That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received! And don’t worry, my dear Y/n, you’re stuck with me forever!”.

You laughed again, your heart swelling as you realized how lucky you were to have such a lovable, charming, and hilarious companion by your side. “I’m lucky to have you too, Brook.”.

Brook straightened up with an even bigger grin, if that was even possible. “And no matter what happens, Y/n, my love for you will always be strong—stronger than any ship on the seas! Yohohoho!”.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words as you continued to walk along the beach with him. Whatever the future held, you knew one thing for sure: Brook’s heart, like his skeleton, was as unbreakable as it was full of love.

𝓙𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓮:

It was a quiet evening on a peaceful island, with the sun just dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The crew had decided to spend the night resting after a long journey, and the mood was light and calm. You found yourself walking alongside Jinbe, your steps matching his as the two of you strolled down the sandy path by the beach. The sounds of the waves crashing softly against the shore filled the air, and for a moment, it felt as though the world was at peace.

Jinbe, with his calm and serene demeanor, had been your constant companion throughout your adventures. His protective nature and wisdom had made him someone you trusted completely, and you couldn’t help but feel at ease whenever he was around.

You glanced up at him as you walked. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a moment like this, huh?”.

Jinbe nodded, his gaze calm as ever. “Yes, it’s nice to have some peace. The sea has its moments of tranquility, just as we do. Sometimes it’s important to appreciate the stillness.”.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said, smiling softly as you walked beside him.

The two of you continued along the beach, enjoying the quiet, but your peaceful stroll was interrupted by a small voice that suddenly called out to you.

“Excuse me!”.

You stopped and turned to see a young boy, no older than six, rushing toward you. His hair was messy, and he was wearing a makeshift pirate hat that looked like it had been crafted from scraps of cloth. His face was flushed with determination, and his eyes sparkled with confidence.

Jinbe immediately placed a protective hand near his waist, his brow furrowing slightly, but not in anger—just a sign of caution. You recognized that look well; Jinbe always had a watchful eye when it came to anyone approaching you.

The boy stopped in front of you, his small chest puffed out as if he were facing a great challenge. “Excuse me, miss! I just wanted to say...” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then blurted out, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen! I want to marry you!”.

You blinked in surprise, taken aback by his boldness. “Oh, my... well, that’s very sweet of you,” you said gently, trying to smile at him. “But you’re a bit young to be thinking about marriage, don’t you think?”.

The boy shook his head vigorously, not deterred. “No! I’m going to become the best pirate in the world, and I’ll build the best ship ever, just for you! I’ll even make it big enough to sail across the whole world with you! And I’ll protect you from all the bad guys!”.

Jinbe’s expression softened at the boy’s words, though his protective instincts were still evident. He leaned in slightly and placed a firm, but gentle hand on your shoulder. “You seem to have made quite the impression, Y/n,” he said with a slight chuckle, his voice deep and warm.

You laughed softly, your heart warming at the boy’s earnestness. “That’s very kind of you. But I’m afraid there’s still a lot of growing up for you to do before that becomes possible.”.

The boy seemed to consider your words for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. “I will! I’ll get stronger and stronger, and then I’ll come back and win your heart!”.

Jinbe, who had been silent until then, spoke with a calm and understanding voice, his tone filled with wisdom. “You have great ambition, little one. But remember, there’s much more to becoming a strong person than just building ships and becoming a pirate. The heart and mind need just as much care.”.

The boy looked up at Jinbe, his expression one of awe and respect. “You’re right! I’ll become strong not just for Y/n, but to protect everyone! That’s what pirates do, right?”.

Jinbe smiled gently, his wisdom and strength undeniable. “Indeed, young one. Pirates protect the ones they care about. But remember, strength is not just in muscles or ships—it’s in the courage to do what’s right.”.

The boy nodded solemnly, though there was a twinkle in his eye as he held out the small flower he had picked for you. “I’ll bring you a bigger one next time. When I’m older, I’ll come back, and I’ll be strong enough to protect you. I promise!”.

You took the flower from him, feeling touched by his sincerity. “Thank you. I’ll look forward to that day. But for now, I think you should keep focusing on your dreams.”.

With a determined grin, the boy turned and ran off, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be the best pirate, you’ll see!”.

As you watched him disappear, you couldn’t help but smile. “He’s got a lot of heart.”.

Jinbe’s gaze softened as he turned to you, his tone calm and steady. “He does. But you are not just anyone’s treasure, Y/n. You are my treasure.”.

You blinked, slightly surprised by the quiet intensity in his voice. “Jinbe...”.

He smiled at you, his eyes full of warmth and affection. “I will always protect you, no matter what. No child, no matter how sincere, will be able to sway me. My heart belongs to you.”.

You felt a wave of affection for him, his strength, his kindness, and his wisdom. “I know, Jinbe. And I’m grateful for you. I couldn’t ask for a better protector.”.

He gave you a gentle smile, placing a large, warm hand on your shoulder. “You are safe with me, Y/n. Always.”.

And as you continued walking along the beach, side by side with Jinbe, you couldn’t help but feel the peace that came from knowing he would always have your back, no matter what. His heart, as vast and strong as the sea, was yours to share.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated

Shortest

Sacred Spaces masterlist, Heart Pirates reader-insert

Being the shortest in the crew has its perks and drawbacks.

Being the shortest came with its fair share of trouble with life on the Polar Tang.

For a submarine, the Polar Tang was built almost luxuriously. But the caveat was that it was built with height in mind. It was a blessing for many of your crew, those like Jean Bart and Shosai being able to navigate the halls comfortably for the most part (though the size of the navigation seats couldn’t be helped). It was a curse for shorter members like you, especially when you needed to get something from the kitchen cabinets.

‘Sugar’ glinted mockingly down at you in blocky letters, the container somehow set atop the uppermost shelf. Grumbling, you glanced around to make sure nobody was there before gingerly climbing atop the counter. Your fingers trembled as they fell a few scant inches short of the container.

How Risso managed to navigate the kitchen despite only being taller than you by a bit always stumped you.

Before you could do something drastic, a weight pressed into your back, pressing all the air out of you as someone invaded your space. Red strands of hair fluttered into your vision, and you muttered a curse as Shachi’s familiar voice rang in your ears. “Aw, does our wittol Taiwor need some help to get something from up high?” 

“Shut up!” You barked, trying to shake off the redhead’s bulk, lunging for the sugar, but too late as tanned fingers swooped them from the shelf. 

The man stepped back for you to hop down, and you did, whirling around to face him. Though he was the shortest of the Swallow Island quartet, he was still tall enough to easily keep the tin out of your reach as you reached.

“I just wanted some goddamn tea!”

“What’s the magic word?”

Incensed, you jumped at him, making sure your boots landed on his toes. “I’ll make a pincushion out of your ass, Shachi!”

***

Being the shortest did really come with its fair share of teasing. 

You ducked, avoiding the arm that Hakugan was throwing over you, ready to use you as an armrest. “Oi!”

The helmsman yipped, toppling over as he couldn’t correct himself in time. “Hey!”

His arm latched onto the back of your suit, bringing you down with him. You both landed on the navigation room floor with a thud, immediately breaking into a half-hearted squabble as the two of you wrestled on the floor.

“You idiot! Why’d you pull me down!”

“I was falling!”

Your fist bonked onto the forehead of his mask, not enough to damage anything, but strong enough for him to feel your ire. “I told you that you needed to stop putting your arm on my head!”

“But you’re so convenient as a table! Just the right height!”

“Shut up, Hakugan!” You gritted, one hand pushing back his own as you fought him from palming your face. “You’re not even that much taller than me!” 

You were ready to grapple him until a winner emerged, but a metaphorical rope was thrown your way when you saw the wobbly top point of a familiar hood. Muscles straining, you froze, pushing back Hakugan’s hands as you quickly hatched up a plan.

“Helmsman on the floor!” You yelled, scrambling off of him as some of the crew honed in on the sight.

It had the exact result you wanted.

“Dogpile Hakugan!” Clione yelled, diving on top of the already downed pirate.

That prompted a chain reaction for some of the other members present, Ikkaku and Shachi following suit. The masked man let out a weak wheeze underneath everyone that quickly turned to terror as thumping footsteps approached. The crew screamed as Bepo’s shadow fell over them.

“Bepo, no!”

“Please stop!”

“I’m gonna die!!!” 

You scuttled away before the navigator could turn on you.

***

Being the shortest meant that Bepo’s hugs enveloped you completely, even more so than any of your other crew members. There were many a time when you’d startled someone hidden in the depths of Bepo’s fur by responding to something. You often used that to your advantage, hiding within the safe confines of his bulk to de-stress

A questioning call of your name roused you from where you lay, swallowed up by Bepo’s fluff. After a moment of contemplation, you poked your head up. “Yeah?”

Tanaka screamed, a high-pitched note that rivaled Mozart’s, startling Bepo beneath you. He pushed his glasses up nervously and cleared his throat as you two leveled an unimpressed look at him. “Ahem. Sorry. Can you help fix my cap?”

A second look showed that he was wringing said brown cap in his hands, his jaw-length locks swaying free. From where you were, you could see the frayed threads, something that would most likely mean a painstaking session bent over your table. But despite your aching back, duty called. You sighed and began to struggle up from where you were lying. “Alright, let me s—”

The rest of your sentence was cut off by a yelp as Bepo’s arms latched around your midriff, pulling you back. He rolled to the side, locking you underneath hid arms. “No, sorry. Rest time.”

“B-But I’m the ship’s tailor!” You protested. 

“Captain’s orders. If it’s not major, then you’re not working,” Bepo murmured, nuzzling his head atop of yours. “Tanaka repair your own things. Sorry.”

~~~

Sometimes your height was useful to the crew in more serious ways.

Law handed you a slip of paper, a rough map drawn on it. A bar’s name was written and marked on top of everything, and you already knew what to expect. “Tailor-ya, think you can scout out this place for me?”

“Sure thing. The usual?”

“Yes. Dress down, and try not to interact with anything too much.”

You took the paper, scanning over the map before pocketing it for disposal later. “Got it, Captain.”

“Uni and some of the younger crew members will be on the island for supplies restocking, but they might not be around when you set out, so expect to be on your own.”

“Yes, sir.”

While the crew prepared their pre-docking procedures, you made your way back into your workshop, digging out an outfit in preparation for those going onto the island. It was during times like these that Law’s strict modus operandi came in handy. No unnecessary, garish, attention-seeking skirmishes, uniforms to blend in with each other as much as possible, and a fair amount of time being underwater ensured that the Heart Pirates’ individual identity still remained in a gray area. That, along with your height, made you especially unnoticeable compared to the other members. So once you took off the distinctive uniform and the more distinctive sunhat you wore out, you were the perfect person to move about unnoticed.

You were rummaging for a shirt when the overhead intercom system crackled to life, Law’s low voice filtering through. “Everyone, we’ve arrived.”

Ditching your current task, you followed your nakama up the metal stairs to the entrance doors. Uni, Clione, and the newer members (though not too new, since they’ve been with you all for a few months already) were readying to leave, the hooded man jumping and rushing over when he saw you.

The blonde shoved a small dagger into your hand, patting the appendage. “I heard you’re going out later. It’s nothing big but just in case.”

“Thank you,” you said gratefully, squeezing Clione’s hand before he pulled away to vault over the railing to the dock below (to Law’s loud chastising for him to ‘stop doing that goddamnit you’re gonna break your ankle!’).

You and Law watched the merry band head off, you waving, while Law was as stoic as ever. When the group disappeared around the corner, the man turned to head back into the submarine, and you followed suit.

“Do you need anything before you head out later, Tailor-ya?”

“No. I’ve got everything prepared. Should I join the crew to help with our post-docking procedures?”

Law exhaled through his nose. “I told you already. You don’t have to do that whenever I send you out for surveillance. Just rest up. I need you to be sharp for tonight.”

You gave him a joking salute and split off to head to your workshop. “Got it, Cap’n!”

Your workspace did need some tidying, so you puttered around in the little room until the sky outside the porthole got dark, shucking off your boiler suit and pulling on your outfit for the night. Something nondescript, darker to blend into the area, but not so that you’d look suspicious. One final glance at the map Law gave you confirmed where you were going before you shredded the paper and left.

Ikkaku poked her head out to say a quick goodbye as you breezed past, Risso following suit with a reminder to come back in time for dinner.

“I’m making the Captain’s favorite tonight!”

The thought of his warm food got you drooling. “Got it!”

The night air was gentle on your face as you stepped out of the submarine. Law was already on deck, and he turned to greet you. “Do you have everything?”

You nodded, patting your waistband where you hid Clione’s knife. “I have the dagger Clione left me.”

“Good.” Law tossed a rope ladder over the submarine side, and you began climbing down. “Don’t be reckless.”

Your boots hit the wood below you. “I won’t.”

The map was burned into your mind’s eye as you navigated deeper into the little island town. Even with the encroaching night, a few establishments remained lit. However, the number of souls on the street decreased as you headed closer to the bar of interest.

Noise slammed into you the moment you opened the doors, a disorienting contrast from the quiet outside. However, the chaos was an advantage as you slipped in without drawing any attention, eyes skimming over the area. Your ears caught the murmuring of a familiar moniker.

Bingo. Law’s information was true as always.

You slipped into the bar seat nearest to your target, ordering a lighter drink and settling down.

There were always a few things you kept a lookout for. Movements of other powerhouses, mentions, and bounties relating to the Heart Pirates. But the main one was anything relating to Doflamingo. It was a given, with your Captain’s past hanging over the crew. There was no one other than that man who everyone kept such vigilant eyes and ears out for, anything picked up relayed back to Law with haste. Depending on the nature of the information, it would set the course of your trip for the next few weeks, whether it be submerged deep below water or sailing at a breakneck speed to another place.

Their organizations, as well as any and all names the Donquixote leader went by, were long-memorized by you so that you could catch any and all information.

Your skin crawled at the mentions of slaves passed offhandedly between the men at the table. An auction, generously funded by Joker, on an island north of here. A rare commodity considering he never liked to dabble in this part of the Blue, so far away from his normal base of operations.

You stuck around for as long as you could, picking up the date and location passing between booze-loosened lips. Hearing enough, you paid for your drink and slid out of your seat, making your way to the bar exit. As you rounded the corners of the streets, you thought that everything went well enough, until the shuffle of footsteps fell in line behind you.

“Going somewhere so quickly? I’m surprised you didn’t stay for longer.”

You stilled, slowly pivoting to face the man behind you, feeling the way your body broke into a cold sweat. Though you didn’t show anything as you asked, “What are you talking about?”

“I thought we had a little rat listening to us. I just wanted to see what tidbits were swiped by greedy hands while my friends were discussing business.”

Resisting the urge to scoff at his cheesy words, you backed up, hand clasping over the hidden blade Clione forced into your hands earlier. Its handle was sturdy under your hands, but you didn’t have a chance to use it. Faster than you could react, he was in front of you. Pain exploded in your gut as he slammed a foot into it, sending you flying and hitting the wall of the opposing building and falling to the ground. You retched, stomach acid and spit coming up as you curled in to cradle your stomach. A shadow fell over your curled-over form, and you tensed, hand clenching the handle in your grip. Scuffed boots appeared at in your vision, and you struck, forcing battered muscles into overdrive as you swiped the dagger up, hoping it’d land.

The blade glanced harmlessly off him and the man slammed into you, vision exploding into stars before your air was cut off. You were dragged up, feet leaving the ground.

Oh no.

Though you haven’t been doing this for too long, you’d gotten careless at the ease in which the previous mission went.

You clawed at the vice-like grip around your neck, your borrowed dagger clattering to the ground as the man choking you out wretched your dominant hand to the side. The tips of your boots scrapped the ground beneath, barely making contact with the dirt. A glimpse of gleaming black on the limb holding you made you curse your luck.

Haki.

Damn him, you thought, baring your teeth in a desperate, animal display, ignoring the throbbing that came from the left side of your face. Even if you still had the knife in your grasp, you wouldn’t have escaped anyway. Someone with Uni’s stature or Moose’s strength could’ve handled it. But not you.

Jeering laughter echoed around you as you aimed weak kicks at the one holding you up.

“Who do you work for? Or are you just some nosy brat?” He asked, shaking you around like a rag doll.

Your eye bulged out of your head as he squeezed. The bones of your neck creaked like fragile butterfly wings within his hold. Against his size and abilities, you were helpless. A toy for the larger dogs to chew up. Your skin prickled as you felt eyes raking down your form, and you felt exposed without your usual thick, baggy boiler suit.

It shouldn’t have been like this.

Law was going to be upset.

“Hm, I could make you squeak. I’ll just have to take you back to my boys—”

“Let go of my nakama!”

The rest of his words were cut off by a grunt as something slammed into him. The world went sideways as you slipped from the man’s grasp, landing with a rough tumble as rocks and pebbles dug into your unprotected skin. Taking a few moments, you drew in wheezy gasps before trying to stand up. 

Hands caught you as your legs crumpled, and you were scooped up into warm arms.

“H-Hang on,” Bowser’s voice reassured you. “Don’t worry! Uni and Penguin’s got it covered, and we’re going to bring you to the captain!”

You tried to speak, but all that sounded was a hoarse rattle, the ring of fire around your neck aching like a brand. Breathing was equally difficult, and you relented to force wheezing, whistling breaths through your windpipe, limp in your nakama’s hold all the way until you were laid out on the infirmary bed, back in the Polar Tang again.

Through the haze of pain, you forced a smile at the figures hovering above you, unable to discern anybody due to the light shining down. You knew it must’ve been an unpleasant sight, the blood vessels in your eyes no doubt ruptured from the trauma.

Your name was said alongside Law’s familiar honorific. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

That was all the reassurance you needed as Law’s Room flickered on. The feeling of his fruit sectioning you apart was familiar at this point, and you closed your eyes. Your full trust laid in your captain’s abilities as you fell into darkness.

For others, it would’ve been terrifying to be on the receiving end of Law’s powers, but you and the Heart Pirates have never been led wrong by him. 

By the time you awoke, you could breathe again. The deep inhale you did came with a dull ache, but nothing of the caliber that you felt before. Shuffling came from the side of your bed, and you glanced over to see your captain standing up from his chair.

“Don’t speak,” Law said brusquely, interrupting you before you could even begin. “You have two fractured ribs and severe bruising surrounding your neck and the facilities there. Luckily, nothing was broken. I did the best I could to realign everything, but there was not much I could do about the ruptured blood vessels. You’re on bed rest until you heal.”

You exhaled, the motion coming with a dull pain as the muscles around your jaws ached. Your captain didn’t meet your eyes, fussing with the various equipment on the bedside table next to you. A common sign of his guilt as he tried to act busy.

Reaching out, you grabbed the edge of his shirt sleeve and tugged, halting the man in his actions. You lifted a hand to mime writing something, which he understood right away. A pencil and paper were thrust into your hands, and you quickly got writing. When done, you shoved the pad at him.

‘Not your fault.’

Law huffed, passing the pad to you. He pressed a hand onto your head, pushing you down. “You’re literally in the infirmary bed right now. Because of a mission, I sent you on.”

‘I chose to go, I’m the best at it. It’s not like our lives are only full of sunshine and rainbows as pirates. And you fixed me up now, yeah?’

“You know better than to over-rely on me,” he scolded.

‘But you take care of us so well, Captain!’

Law scowled, tugging on his hat as he averted his gaze. You squinted, seeing a bit of pink flushing over his skin. “Whatever. Did you manage to gather anything important?”

At that reminder, you brightened, pencil flying across the paper. You wrote down all the information you heard from those men, ripping out the page and presenting it to Law with a flourish. He took it, scanning everything. Gold eyes widened as he comprehended the information written on it. He gingerly folded up the paper and tucked it into his pocket.

“Ah. I see. Thank you.”

Knocking echoed on the infirmary door, drawing your attention away. “Captain?” Bepo’s voice questioned through the door.

Law let out an aggrieved sigh. “The lot of you can come in. Tailor-ya’s awake.”

The door slammed open, and you jolted as a veritable pile of crewmates spilled in, with Bepo’s orange-bright suit in front. Law gave a final word of warning for them to be gentle before the group skidded to a stop in front of you. You smiled at them, ignoring the slight ache that bloomed where you got hit. You could see their hesitation and tilted your head.

“You had pretty bad bruising,” Law told you. “I removed most of the blood from the broken vessels, but the ones in your eyes are too delicate for me right now.”

He gritted his teeth, and you could see his silent decision being made. You could already see him looking for more medical texts the next time the Tang docked at an island.

“Are hugs allowed?” Somebody asked tentatively.

Law exhaled a sigh, lifting an arm to flap his hand dismissively. “Do whatever. It’s mostly cosmetic and very minor injuries left. But don’t be too rough, either way.”

That was all the approval you needed, and you opened your arms.

Bepo’s wrapped around you first, and you relaxed into the Mink, letting out a soft sigh as Law stepped back for more space. A hand landed on your head, ruffling your hair. Uni’s hand, based on the length of the fingers. More arms wormed beneath Bepo, over Bepo, but all of them wrapped around you. An offended squawk from the side signaled that even Law was roped into the mix.

Being the shortest in the crew had its drawbacks, sometimes serious ones. But you didn’t mind. You knew your nakama was there to support you.