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Summary: While recovering at the Butterfly Mansion, Rengoku finds joy in helping with daily chores alongside you, turning even the most ordinary moments into cherished memories.
Masterlist
Sunlight filtered through the paper windows of the Butterfly Mansion, painting the floors in its fiery glow. The usual quiet hum of the mansion was punctuated by occasional laughter, chatter, and a faint crash from somewhere down the hall. You were busy folding freshly washed sheets, lining them neatly on the racks, when a familiar flame covered haori swept into the room.
“Ah! (Y/N)!” Rengoku’s voice boomed cheerfully, though a faint fatigue lingered at the edges. “I thought I’d help with the chores today! A hero must do his part, even while recovering!”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Rengoku you should really be resting. Let me handle the laundry.”
“Rest?” He echoed, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “No! A slayer’s spirit is the strongest when they are useful! Besides,” he added with a grin, “helping you is the best kind of work.”
Before you could respond, a loud thump came from the corridor, followed by a high-pitched shriek. “Zenitsu?! What did you do now?” You groaned.
From the doorway, Zenitsu scrambled in, holding a stack of towels that were slowly sliding off his arms. “I was going to fold them! I...I just need more space! Space!”
Inosuke burst in next, grinning wildly, “Hah! I bet I can fold these faster! And stronger! And better!” He lunged toward the pile, knocking a few towels onto the floor.
“INOSUKE!” Tanjiro called, rushing after him. “Stop making a mess! We’re trying to help!” Nezuko silently padded behind, tugging at Inosuke’s arm as if to scold him, but ended up just stealing a stray ribbon.
Rengoku’s eyes glowed, “This chaos is incredible. Truly. But no matter!” He strode forward, gathering stray towels and holding them high. “Order will be restored! Watch a Hashira work!”
You shook your head, laughing as you joined him. “Honestly, Rengoku, only you could make laundry this entertaining.”
He flashed you a grin, brushing sweat-mussed hair from his forehead. “Entertainment is the spice of life! But having you here makes it even better.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest as you met his gaze, quickly hiding a blush behind a sheet. “You always know how to make a room brighter.”
“Of course!” He said, puffing out his chest proudly. “That’s the power of the Flame Hashira! And perhaps the power of seeing someone wonderful smile.”
Before you could respond, Zenitsu shrieked again from across the room. “I...I dropped a towel! And it’s...AHH!” Inosuke growled, charging toward him, while Tanjiro sighed and Nezuko merely watched.
Rengoku chuckled, gently taking your hand in the chaos for just a moment. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. No matter what happens.”
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and the mansion was quiet now, save for the occasional creak of wood or the soft snoring of someone. Lanterns glowed softly, casting light across the polished floors and neatly stacked blankets. You were tidying up the last few stray towels from earlier chaos, humming quietly to yourself, when a familiar presence leaned against the doorway.
“(Y/N) still up?” Rengoku’s voice was softer now.
You turned, smiling. “Yeah, just finishing up. Everyone’s finally settled?”
“Mm,” he said, stepping inside and brushing a hand through his hair, a faint tiredness in his golden eyes. “Even the little ones are asleep. And now, it seems it’s just us.”
Your chest warmed at the words, and you motioned for him to sit beside you on a low bench. “Long day, huh?”
He nodded, sitting down with a gentle sigh. “Very. But a good one. Chaos, laughter, you.” His eyes sparkled as he glanced at you, full of earnest warmth.
You laughed softly, reaching over to brush some stray hair from his face. “You mean me? Or the chaos?”
“Both!” He said instantly, grinning. “But mostly you. Even amidst all the chaos, your presence is comforting.”
Your heart fluttered. “Rengoku.” you whispered.
He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “(Y/N), I know the world is dangerous. And I,” He paused, swallowing, eyes flicking down at your hands. “I can’t promise there won’t be hardships, but I can promise you this; I will treasure every moment we have together.”
A warmth spread through your chest, and you smiled up at him. “I feel the same, Kyojuro.”
His grin returned, brighter than the lantern light. “Good. Then maybe we can rest here for a while, together. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then leaned in, brushing his forehead lightly against yours. “Just us”
You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness. “Just us,” you echoed. For a long, quiet moment, the two of you sat like that, the soft glow of the mansion wrapping around you both. Outside, the world continued with its dangers and duties, but inside there was peace.
The next morning sunlight poured into the mansion though it did little to calm the chaos that had already erupted. You were carrying a tray of breakfast, steaming tea and neatly arranged rice balls, when the door burst open with a dramatic thud. “Inosuke!” you groaned, barely dodging the wild charge of the boar-headed slayer, who was dragging Zenitsu along by the collar.
“Move! Out of my way!” Inosuke shouted, plopping onto the floor with a loud crash. “The early bird gets the...Food!”
Zenitsu squeaked, flailing, but you shot him a sympathetic glance. Before you could intervene, a golden figure darted past, laughing heartily. “Good morning! Everyone up and ready for breakfast?”
Rengoku’s grin was impossibly bright, his haori flaring behind him as he carried a small basket of eggs. “I thought I’d help bring some order to this… morning chaos!”
You tried to stifle a laugh, carefully placing the tray on the low table. “Kyojuro breakfast isn’t a battle. You don’t need to charge in.”
“Charge in?” He said, mock offense in his tone. “No! This is tactical coordination!” He winked at you, and your chest fluttered. “And it seems I have a partner in excellence, yes, you!”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Tanjiro quietly entered behind them, hands clasped, trying to calm the chaos. “Maybe we should eat first, before anything else happens?”
Inosuke growled, already reaching for a rice ball, and Zenitsu squealed when one nearly flew past him. Nezuko quietly padded in last, silently taking a rice ball and placing it beside Zenitsu, who blinked in surprise.
Rengoku leaned over, brushing a strand of hair from your face pressing a kiss to your forehead as he passed. “Here,” he said softly, handing you a perfectly folded napkin. “Even in the middle of chaos, I make time to take care of you.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, accepting it with a small smile. “Thanks, Kyojuro.”
He winked again, then straightened, booming as if announcing victory. “Now! Breakfast is served! Let the day begin!”
The rest of the morning was a blur of spilled tea, laughter, and teasing. Zenitsu kept accidentally dropping things. Inosuke argued with Tanjiro over “correct eating posture.” While Nezuko silently amused herself with everyone’s antics. Rengoku chased stray napkins like a hero in an epic tale.
Through it all, you found little moments with him, a hand brushing yours when passing a plate, a shared look over the table when Zenitsu shrieked again, a small grin when he noticed you laughing. By the time breakfast ended, the mansion was messier than ever, but the air felt light, full of warmth and camaraderie.
Rengoku leaned closer to you as he cleared the table, whispering with a playful glint in his golden eyes: “Even in madness like this, I wouldn’t want anyone else beside me.”
You smiled, heart fluttering. “I wouldn’t either.” And in the middle of chaos, the laughter, and the messy, imperfect breakfast, you realized, life with them, and with him, was exactly how it should be.
this might be an odd request but may I please request a Law x fem reader where the reader keeps purposefully getting injured or faking injuries just so Law can nurse her back to health because she has a huge crush on him and he’s a bit oblivious to the crush. Thank you :3
Purposely Accident Prone
Charcters: Law
Summary: What starts as a few accidental injuries quickly becomes a habit of coming up with more flimsy medical issues to see Law's whenever possible.
Masterlist
The first time you showed up in the infirmary, it was for a legitimate reason. Penguin wasn't paying attention to his surroundings and, while swinging a metal pipe around recounting a fight, managed to smack you directly in the head. A couple of stitches and a mild concussion later, you found yourself sitting on one of the infirmary beds while Law worked.
"Hold still."
"I'm holding still."
"You're talking."
"Talking doesn't mean I'm moving."
Law's eyes lifted briefly from the cut on your scalp. "For someone with a concussion, you're remarkably argumentative."
You ignored the way your heart skipped at the sight of his focused expression. "For someone sewing my head back together, you're remarkably rude."
Across the room, Penguin let out a guilty cough. Law didn't even look up. "This is your fault."
"I know, Captain."
"You're cleaning the kitchen for a month."
"A month?!"
"Would you prefer two months."
"Captain!" You couldn't help smiling. It probably wasn't normal to develop a crush on the man stitching your head together, then again, it probably wasn't normal for your heart to race every time he looked at you. By the time he finished, you were fairly certain the concussion wasn't responsible for your symptoms.
The second time was also reasonable. You had been helping load the remaining supplies onto the ship while a storm was rolling in; it had already started to rain gently, making the deck slippery in a couple of spots. Unfortunately, while carrying a crate, your foot found one of the patches of slick wood on the gang plank.
The crate survived, but your dignity did not. You hit the deck with a loud yelp that immediately drew the attention of everyone nearby. "Y/N!" Before you could even sit up, Bepo was at your side.
"I'm okay," you groaned.
"You don't sound okay."
"That's because I landed on my butt."
"Captain's going to want to check you over." Normally, the suggestion of a medical examination would've made you nervous, but with who would be checking you over, you weren't opposed.
"Nothing's broken." Law's verdict came after a brief examination in the infirmary.
You sat on the edge of the bed while he pressed lightly against your ankle. "Ow."
"Does it actually hurt?"
"A little."
"A little or a lot?"
"A medium amount."
Law stared at you. "That's not a measurement."
"It should be."
He released a long, tired sigh. "Mild sprain."
"So, I'm dying?"
"Unfortunately not."
You pressed a hand dramatically to your chest huffing at him, "Your bedside manner is terrible."
"And yet you keep ending up in my infirmary."
The third time though, well that was a bit more intentional.
"Law," you announced dramatically, holding up your hand.
Without looking up from his book, he replied, "What happened?"
"I got a paper cut."
Slowly, he lowered the book and turned to look at you, "A paper cut."
You nodded solemnly. "A dangerous one."
Law stared at the microscopic cut on your finger. "You're not bleeding."
"It already stopped."
"Then why are you here?"
You extended your hand closer to him, "I think it needs professional medical attention."
The look he gave you suggested he was debating throwing you out of the infirmary and possible off the ship had you not been underwater. Instead, he sighed. "Sit."
Your heart practically exploded. Five minutes later, you left with a tiny bandage wrapped around your finger and a smile so bright that Shachi and Penguin exchanged glances.
The fourth visit was because you bumped your elbow. Law didn't even look up from the chart he was reading. "Which elbow?”
"My right one?"
"You're asking me?"
"I wanted a professional opinion."
Finally, he looked at you. "Y/N."
"Yes?"
"Get out."
The fifth visit was because you thought you might be getting sick. Law sighed the moment you walked through the door. "Symptoms?"
"I'm tired."
"You stayed up until three in the morning playing cards with Shachi and Penguin."
"I also have a headache."
"You lost twenty thousand berries."
"That would explain a lot, actually."
Law pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go take a nap."
The sixth visit was because your shoulder felt weird. "Define weird."
You rotated your arm. "I don't know. Weird."
Law examined your shoulder for all of ten seconds. "It's a shoulder."
"A weird shoulder."
"No. Just a shoulder."
You frowned. "You didn't even do any tests."
"Because nothing is wrong with it."
"You don't know that."
"I do. I'm a doctor."
The seventh was because your heart was beating too fast. Law pressed two fingers against your wrist, and you nearly passed away on the spot. After a few moments, he released you. "That's because you sprinted here."
"Oh."
"Why did you sprint?"
You froze. "Exercise?" Law looked unconvinced but waved you out of the office.
The crew absolutely noticed this habit that you started to develop.
"I give it twenty minutes," Penguin said.
"Ten," Shachi countered.
Bepo tilted his head. "What are we betting on?"
"When (Y/N) will go to the infirmary again."
You nearly choked on your drink. "I do not visit the infirmary that often."
The entire table stared at you. At that exact moment, the door opened and Law stepped inside. His gaze landed on you. "Y/N."
Your pulse doubled. "Yes?"
"You forgot your knife in the infirmary." The table erupted in laughter. You wanted the ocean to swallow you whole.
As weeks went by, your excuses become worse, so much worse. "Law."
"No."
"You don't even know what I was going to ask."
"You came in here claiming your left eyelash felt strange."
"It did." He pinched the bridge of his nose. You tried not to smile, being scolded by Law shouldn't have been enjoyable and yet it was something you were finding more enjoyable as the days went by.
One afternoon, you found yourself sitting on one of the infirmary beds while Law organized supplies. For once, you didn't have an excuse, no fake symptoms, no mysterious aches, no paper cuts. You just wanted to be there but the problem was that now you had absolutely no reason to explain your presence.
Law finally glanced over. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You're in the infirmary."
"Maybe I just wanted to sit down."
"There are chairs everywhere on this submarine."
Curse him and his logic. “Okay, maybe there wasn't a medical reason."
"I know."
You blinked. "What?"
Law continued sorting supplies. "I figured that out weeks ago."
Weeks ago? Suddenly you were getting all the signs of a fainting spell, had you not been sitting you would have collapsed on the spot. "Then why didn't you say anything?"
"You seemed determined to continue."
You could feel your face begin to burn, "You knew?"
"Y/N." He finally looked at you and there was something softer in his expression than usual. "You once claimed a sneeze felt suspicious."
"Well, it was."
"You asked me to examine a bruise that didn't exist."
"It could have existed."
"It didn't.” You buried your face in your hands; this was it, this had to be the most embarrassing moment of your life. Was it possible to die of embarrassment? You were about to find out. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat beside you. Slowly, you peeked through your fingers. Law was looking at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. "There's an easier way to spend time with me."
Your heart nearly stopped. "There is?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
The corner of his mouth twitched, a smile, not a full-on smile, but Law smile. The one you loved to see. "You could just ask." Your brain ceased functioning, completely. Maybe you weren’t over that concussion from months ago. Law waited, while you continued staring. "Well?" He asked.
"Well, what?"
"Are you asking?"
"Oh." You swallowed, "Would you maybe want to spend time together?"
For a moment, he said nothing. Then he reached over and flicked your forehead lightly. You yelped. "Hey!"
"That's for making me treat imaginary illnesses for months."
"That's fair."
"And yes."
You blinked. "Yes?"
"Yes." The smile he gave you was small but worth every ridiculous trip to the infirmary. Though maybe, from now on, you'd visit for reasons that had a little less to do with fake medical emergencies and a little more to do with actual dates.
Summary: You should have realized something was up when Buggy offered to come with you on a job for Crocodile. But lies can become truth if given enough time.
Masterlist
Buggy the Clown was many things, but subtle was not one of them. It was something you quickly learned after the formation of the Cross Guild. You were Crocodile’s assistant; he had helped you out of a bad situation with your ex-fiancé, and you had agreed to work for him since you didn’t have anywhere to go. It was helpful to have someone who didn’t have a bounty poster working certain jobs, so as far as one was concerned, you were just a civilian.
You had been sent to scope out a casino the Crocodile wanted to take over, and for some reason Buggy had offered to travel with you. It was a rather odd offer given you barely interacted with the clown, but Crocodile gave the okay, so you had to roll with it. This choice may have been a mistake.
The casino doors slammed open with enough force to make half the room jump. The band’s music faltered, the sounds of dice and machines slowed, and a woman near the bar cursed as her drink splashed across the counter.
And through the entrance strode a Marine captain flanked by armed soldiers.
Wonderful, just what you needed right now. You lowered your cards slowly, resisting the urge to sink deeper into your chair. Around the glittering casino floor, conversations dimmed into nervous murmurs while the Marines swept the room with sharp, suspicious eyes.
“They’re looking for a pirate,” the bartender whispered under his breath. At the center stage, dancers hurried away beneath flashing lights while wealthy tourists tried very hard not to look concerned.
Honestly, you might’ve escaped notice entirely if not for the loud voice suddenly shouting, “There you are, sweetheart!” Before you could react, an arm wrapped around your shoulders and yanked you sideways into a solid chest smelling faintly of smoke, expensive cologne, and sea salt.
You stared upward in horror, bright blue hair, red nose, and a smug grin stretched too wide. “Oh no,” you said aloud. What the hell was Buggy doing here? He said he was going to stay on the ship.
“Miss me?” Buggy the Clown asked dramatically.
“What are you doing here?” You hissed slightly trying to not look at the Marines whose attention was defiantly locked on to the two of you.
“Well, I missed you and figured you needed your good luck charm while playing” he shot back, his smile never wavering.
The Marine captain’s eyes narrowed, recognition flashed across his face instantly. “Buggy the Clown.”
Buggy pointed at himself in exaggerated offense. “Wrong! I am but a humble businessman enjoying a peaceful evening with my beloved fiancé.”
You blinked. “Fiancée?” you repeated.
His fingers dug into your shoulder hard enough to warn you. “Play along,” he muttered through clenched teeth while somehow still grinning at the Marines. “Unless prison sounds fun.”
You glanced toward the Marine patrol slowly surrounding the casino exits. Then back to the pirate captain currently attached to your side like an overdramatic parasite. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Buggy laughed loudly, entirely for show. “Ah, my darling always jokes when their nervous!”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Of course not, sweetheart.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“There’s that fiery spirit I fell in love with.”
The Marine captain stepped closer. “You expect me to believe Buggy the Clown is engaged?”
Buggy gasped so theatrically several nearby gamblers looked offended on his behalf. “You wound me, sir! Is it truly so unbelievable that a man of my charisma and beauty found love?”
“Yes.”
“That was fast,” Buggy muttered with an overdramatic pout.
You pressed a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, he may be annoying at times, but he was funny. Unfortunately, Buggy noticed. His eyes widened slightly before his grin sharpened with renewed confidence
The captain crossed his arms. “If that’s true, then your fiancée won’t mind answering a few questions.”
Buggy’s arm tightened around your shoulders instinctively. “Oh, my darling hates interrogations,” Buggy said smoothly. “Traumatic childhood, very tragic.”
“I hate you,” you whispered.
“And yet you endure me.”
The captain looked unconvinced. “Then perhaps you won’t mind if we search your belongings.” Buggy froze, just for a second. Inside your bag was an eternal pose back to where the Cross Guild was. If they found that and decided to follow it, you would be in trouble
Thinking quickly, you looped your arm through his, Buggy blinked down at you in surprise. Then you smiled sweetly at the Marines. “Captain,” you said softly, “surely you can see my fiancé and I are trying to enjoy our evening.” The word fiancé nearly made Buggy choke, even though he had said not two minutes ago. “We've spent weeks traveling together,” you continued smoothly. “And honestly? If I had to survive the Grand Line with anyone else, I’d throw myself overboard.”
A snort escaped from one of the Marines nearby. Buggy stared at you like he’d forgotten how breathing worked, but the Marine captain still looked skeptical, but less certain now. “You’ve been traveling with him willingly?”
“Unfortunately.”
“HEY!”
You patted Buggy’s chest absentmindedly. “He gets emotional.”
“I do not...”
The Marine captain sighed heavily, clearly deciding this was no longer worth the paperwork. “Fine. But we’ll be monitoring the harbor.” His gaze hardened toward Buggy. “One wrong move and you’re finished.”
Buggy puffed himself up immediately. “Sir, I am a respected businessman.”
“You have a bounty poster.”
“Propaganda.”
The Marines finally moved on through the casino. The second they disappeared into the crowd, Buggy dropped his arm from your shoulders and rounded on you. “What was that?!” He whispered yell glancing back at where they had gone.
“You’re welcome,” you shot back.
“I had it handled!”
“You looked two seconds away from exploding.”
Buggy opened his mouth, paused, then pointed accusingly. “You called me your fiancé.”
“You called me your fiancée first.”
“Yes, but I was improvising.”
“And I was saving your ass and mine.”
Buggy stared at you for a long moment before suddenly grinning again. “Oh, this is perfect.”
You immediately didn’t like that tone. “No,” you said firmly.
“Oh yes.”
“No.”
“The Marines are watching the harbor,” Buggy explained, already sounding delighted with himself. “Which means they’ll absolutely be keeping an eye on us.”
“We are not an us.”
“We are now, sweetheart.” He slung an arm around your shoulders again and began steering you deeper into the casino floor.
You dug your heels in. “Absolutely not, I need to finish what I was sent here to do.”
“Absolutely yes, you already now Crocy wants this place, sending you was a formality, so you have done your job already.”
“I am not pretending to be engaged to you.”
“You already all and dropping the act now will get us both into trouble.”
You hated how much he had a point. Music swelled again across the casino as gamblers returned cautiously to their tables. Around you, lights glittered gold against polished marble floors while dancers climbed back onto the stage. Somehow, in the middle of all the noise and chaos, Buggy still was focused on you, like this was the most entertaining thing that had happened to him in weeks. And honestly it probably was.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you muttered.
“I’m a performer,” he said proudly. “Of course I am.”
Then his detached hand floated past your face carrying two glasses of champagne. You stared as the hand wiggled its fingers at you. “I hate everything about this.” Buggy barked out a laugh.
Within the next couple of hours, you learned three very important things.
First, the Marines were still watching the harbor and you both like hawks. Second, the casino hotel only had one room left available. And third, Buggy the Clown was the single most irritating man alive.
“Is there nothing else available?” you asked
The hotel clerk smiled politely from behind the marble counter. “My apologies, but the festival has filled nearly every room in the city.”
“There,” Buggy announced triumphantly, pointing at the poor woman like he’d personally won an argument with the universe. “You heard her.” The clerk glanced nervously between the two of you while several Marines lingered near the entrance of the lobby pretending, very badly, not to watch.
Buggy noticed them immediately, his grin widened and before you could stop him, he dramatically grabbed your hand and dropped to one knee. The entire lobby gasped. “Oh, come on,” you hissed.
“My darling,” Buggy declared loudly, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, “would you truly deny me one night beside the radiant light of my life?”
A woman near the staircase actually started awing at the sight. You stared down at him in disbelief and he winked. You wanted to throw him into the ocean, instead, you forced a strained smile through clenched teeth. “Well, who am I to deny you, my love.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Of course it is.”
Buggy rose smoothly, still grinning like an idiot. The hotel clerk handed over the room key with a bright smile “Suite 304.”
“Thank you kindly,” Buggy said with exaggerated charm. Then he slung an arm around your waist and guided you toward the stairs before you could murder him publicly.
The second you entered the hallway, your smile dropped. “You are insane.”
“And handsome.”
“No.”
“And charismatic.”
“Still no.”
Buggy clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me, sweetheart.”
“I’m serious! You can’t just do that in front of people!”
“It was improv.”
“You got on one knee!”
“Theatrics are important.”
“You are impossible.”
“And yet,” he said smugly, “it worked.” That was the irritating part, he was right, again.
The suite itself was absurdly luxurious. Tall windows overlooked the harbor below where Marine ships sat anchored beside the crowded docks. Velvet furniture filled the sitting room while crystal chandeliers glittered overhead.
And in the center bedroom, one bed, oh the universe must have been screwing with you.
You stopped in the doorway and Buggy stopped beside you. Then both of you stared silently at the massive mattress. “Absolutely not,” you said.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic.”
“You’re joking.”
“It’s a very large bed.”
“You’re still not sleeping in it with me.”
Buggy scoffed loudly, “Please. As if I’m the problem here.”
You turned slowly, “Excuse me?”
“You’re clearly obsessed with me already.”
“I am not.”
Buggy tossed his coat over a nearby chair before flopping backward onto the mattress spread-eagle. “This is nice,” he sighed happily.
You crossed your arms. “Move.”
“No.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And handsome. Don’t forget handsome.” You grabbed one of the decorative pillows and hurled it directly at his face. Buggy’s head detached from his body an instant before impact and the pillow slammed harmlessly into the wall. His floating head cackled.
“Oh, that’s cheating!”
“You throw surprisingly well,” Buggy admitted. His body, unfortunately still laying on the bed, crossed its arms smugly while his head drifted lazily through the air. “This arrangement might actually be fun.”
“You are the worst person I’ve ever met.”
“Aww, you say the sweetest things” You opened your mouth to snap back at him, but paused, outside the window, movement caught your attention. The marines from the lobby, they now stood across the street watching the hotel.
Buggy noticed your shift of attention and his grin faded a bit as he glanced out the window. “Yeah,” he said quieter. “They’re not letting this go.”
You looked back toward him. For the first time since meeting him, the constant performance cracked just enough for you to glimpse the stress underneath. He was worried. You leaned against the window with a sigh. “What exactly did you do?”
Buggy immediately looked offended. “Why assume I did something?”
“You’re a wanted pirate.”
“That feels judgmental.”
“Buggy I work for Crocodile.”
“That’s unrelated.”
“Buggy.”
He clicked his tongue before finally waving a dismissive hand. “It’s complicated.”
“That usually means illegal.”
“It means profitable.”
Before you could respond, a sharp knock echoed through the suite, both of you froze and another knock followed. “Hotel service,” came a voice outside.
Buggy’s eyes narrowed instantly, and you felt the shift in him immediately. You knew what it was like when someone was squaring off to fight, and this was it. One detached hand silently floated toward several hidden knives near his coat.
You moved carefully toward the door. Buggy caught your wrist before you could reach it and his voice dropped low. “Behind me.” The sudden seriousness in his tone sent a strange rush through your chest. Then he grinned again, fast and sharp like he’d slapped the mask back into place. “Wouldn’t want my beloved fiancé getting hurt.”
You stared at him for half a second, then squeezed his hand once before stepping aside. Buggy blinked like the gesture surprised him. Another knock sounded, this time and it was harder. Buggy cracked his neck with exaggerated flair before striding toward the door. “Oh,” he said cheerfully, knives sliding into his detached hands behind his back, “this should be entertaining.”
Buggy yanked the suite door open with a grin already in place. “Room service, took you guys long enough.” Three Marines stood outside, marines armed with rifles and expressions far too serious for your liking.
The one in front smiled thinly. “Captain Buggy.”
Buggy smiled right back. “What can I help you with?”
The marine’s gaze slid past him into the suite, toward you, now standing near the window once again. “We only have a few more questions for you and your fiancée,” the marine said.
Buggy leaned casually against the doorway. You could now see the detached hand behind his back quietly spinning three knives between its fingers. “We already answered questions downstairs,” Buggy replied lightly.
“And yet,” the Marine captain said, “your story has inconsistencies.”
You sighed internally. Buggy, however, looked delighted. “Inconsistencies? In our relationship? Impossible. We’re disgustingly in love.”
“Name their favorite flower.” Buggy froze and the marine folded his arms smugly. “A strange thing not to know about your fiancée.”
Buggy turned his head slightly toward you. “Sunflower?” He guessed weakly.
You stared at him and he stared back. “He is right, those are my favorites.”
The Marines looked deeply unconvinced now and the one on his right shifted his rifle higher. “Perhaps we should continue this discussion at headquarters.”
Buggy’s smile thinned dangerously. “No,” he said simply. The tension was threatening to snap across the room. The Marines reached for their weapons. Behind Buggy, detached hands silently floated into attack positions.
You could practically feel violence building in the air. And if a fight broke out here, the entire hotel would erupt into chaos. Thinking fast, you stepped forward before either side could do something stupid and grabbed Buggy by the face.
He made a startled noise as you pulled him down into a kiss, as the room went dead silent. For one glorious second, Buggy completely stopped functioning. Just wide-eyed shock, honestly, it was the quietest you’d ever seen him. But you did have his lips covered with yours. You kissed him hard enough to make it believable, one hand curled into the front of his coat while the Marines stood frozen in awkward horror nearby.
Then you pulled back slowly and Buggy looked genuinely dizzy. You kept your expression annoyed as you turned toward the marines. “Are we done here?” You snapped. “We spent weeks at sea together, and I would like to spend some quality time with him on land.”
One marine immediately looked away as another turned bright red. The one in the middle looked like he desperately regretted knocking on the door at all.
Buggy, meanwhile, was still visibly recovering. “You…” he said faintly and you elbowed him sharply. “Oh! Right!” Buggy suddenly barked, recovering instantly. “Yes! Passion! Romance! True love!” His detached hands threw knives into the ceiling entirely out of emotional confusion.
“Right,” the marine said quickly. “Apologies for disturbing you.”
“Yes, leave,” Buggy said immediately.
“Enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, we will.” The door slammed shut the second they retreated into the hallway.
Then Buggy slowly turned toward you. “You kissed me.”
You crossed your arms. “You’re welcome.”
“You kissed me.”
“Yes, I heard you the first time.”
“You actually kissed me.”
“Oh my god.”
Buggy touched his mouth like he’d just experienced a religious awakening. “That was your plan?” he asked.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Buggy stared at you for another long second, then pointed accusingly. “You used tongue.”
Your face burned instantly. “I absolutely did not.”
“You absolutely did!”
“That was strategy!”
“That was passion!”
“You are unbelievable.”
Buggy’s grin spread slowly across his face. “You know,” he said carefully, “for a fake fiancée you’re very convincing.” Something in his tone made your stomach flip unexpectedly, so naturally, you did the mature thing. You grabbed another pillow and hit him with it and Buggy burst into laughter. It was bright, sharp and impossible to ignore as he stumbled backward onto the bed dramatically clutching his chest.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed, still laughing, “you’re gonna ruin me for other people.”
“That implies other people can tolerate you.”
“Why have anyone else when I have you.” You rolled your eyes, but the tension was gone. Buggy looked at you for a moment too long before clearing his throat and standing again. “So,” he announced loudly, “obviously the marines are obsessed with us now.”
“Obviously.”
“Which means we need to sell this relationship harder.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Meaning?”
Before you could react, Buggy grabbed your hand dramatically and held it against his chest; his heartbeat was fast, faster than you expected. “You,” he declared, “are officially accompanying me to the festival tonight.”
“The what?”
“The harbor festival! Dancing! Gambling! Fireworks! Criminal activity!”
“One of those things is concerning.”
Buggy grinned as one his detached hand pulled the knives from the ceiling and slipped them back into his coat. “We’re being watched anyway,” he said quietly. “Might as well make a show of it.” His other hand grabbing yours.
You studied him carefully, he was planning something, and the smart move would be to stay put in the room, but somehow, despite every warning instinct you possessed, you squeezed his hand back and nodded.
By sunset, the harbor festival had transformed the entire city into chaos. Music thundered through crowded streets. Strings of glowing lanterns hung overhead between buildings while performers breathed fire along the waterfront. Drunken pirates stumbled between market stalls beside nobles pretending they absolutely did not gamble illegally after dark.
And at the center of it all, Buggy was thriving. “This,” he declared proudly, throwing his arms wide as fireworks burst over the harbor, “is my natural habitat.”
“You mean hanging out with drunk idiots?”
“Celebration.”
“You knocked over a food cart ten minutes ago.”
“It was the road.”
You snorted despite yourself and Buggy immediately looked smug about it. The worst part was that he’d somehow managed to look good tonight, still ridiculous, obviously. But the long dark coat hanging loose over his striped shirt combined with the festival lights and confident grin made him annoyingly attractive. Which was deeply inconvenient for you, especially when he noticed you staring.
“Oh?” Buggy leaned closer with a smirk. “See something you like, lover?”
“No.”
“You're a bad liar.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And yet your eyes keep wandering all over this.” You immediately looked away and Buggy’s grin widened in victory.
Before he could say something even more unbearable, loud cheers erupted further down the harbor. A crowd had gathered around a massive gambling ring near the docks. Buggy’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh, now that looks promising.”
“That sentence has never led to anything good.”
Too late. He was already dragging you through the crowd by the hand. The gambling ring sat beneath strings of lantern light where pirates and wealthy tourists shouted over piles of beli stacked on long tables. Dice rolled across velvet while cards snapped between skilled fingers.
And at the center stood a massive man covered in gold jewelry laughing loudly as terrified players lost money around him. “Ah,” Buggy said brightly. “I hate him already.”
You glanced sideways. “Do you know him?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“He looks smug.”
Fair enough. The gold-covered man noticed Buggy almost immediately, and recognition flashed across his face a grin that a shiver down your spine spread slowly across his face.
“Well, well,” the man boomed. “If it isn’t the great clown himself.” Several nearby conversations died instantly as people turned and started to whisper among themselves. Buggy stiffened beside you almost imperceptibly.
Buggy recovered quickly, flashing his usual arrogant grin. “Always nice to be recognized.”
“And who’s this?” the man asked, looking you over openly.
Buggy’s hand tightened around yours instantly. “My fiancée.”
“Fiancée, huh?” The man laughed loudly. “Didn’t think you had the guts for commitment, clown.”
Buggy smiled, coldly. “Oh, I’m full of surprises.” The atmosphere shifted subtly, but you felt it immediately. Because beneath all the jokes and dramatics, Buggy was still dangerous when he wanted to be.
The man grinned wider. “Then let’s make things interesting.”
Buggy tilted his head. “Go on.”
“A game.” The man gestured toward the gambling table. “Winner takes the pot.”
Buggy scoffed. “Please. I don’t need your money.”
“Maybe not,” the man agreed. “But if you lose” His eyes slid toward you. “Your fiancée spends the evening on my arm instead.”
The harbor seemed to go silent and you could feel your stomach dropped. Several pirates nearby immediately backed away from the table as they looked at Buggy. He had stopped smiling entirely. One hand slowly curled into a fist at his side; the man either didn’t notice or was too stupid to care.
You looked at Buggy carefully, his expression was unreadable now beneath the lantern light, but like a switch flipping he laughed. “Oh,” he said. “You’re dead.”
The man barked another laugh. “Scared to lose?”
Buggy stepped forward slowly. “No,” he said pleasantly. “I’m deciding how painful I want this to be.” Several weapons quietly appeared in detached hands around him.
The crowd shifted nervously. You touched Buggy’s arm lightly before this turned into fight and his gaze snapped toward you instantly. And just like that, the rage softened slightly. You stepped beside him. “Don’t.”
“He just bet you like property.”
“I noticed.”
“I could kill him.”
“You say that very casually.”
Buggy looked genuinely confused. “Well, yes.” And something in your stomach flipped again, but it was a warm feeling at the same time.
The gold-covered man laughed again. “What’s wrong, clown? Afraid your fiancée prefers real men?”
Bad choice of words. Buggy’s smile returned immediately, but it somehow felt more threatening. Then he leaned down near your ear. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, “would it ruin the romance if I blew this entire dock up?”
You bit back a laugh. “Probably.”
“Tch. Tragic.” Then, before you could stop him, Buggy turned dramatically toward the gambling table and slammed both hands down onto the velvet. “Fine!” he announced loudly. “One game!”
“You cannot be serious,” you hissed.
Buggy leaned sideways slightly, very quietly, so only you could hear: “I need access to the ship behind the docks.” You glanced toward the harbor where a heavily guarded ship floated beyond the festival lights.
Marine patrols surrounded it and whatever Buggy wanted from there, this entire fake engagement chaos suddenly made a lot more sense. “You planned this,” you realized.
Buggy grinned sideways. “I prefer the term improvisational genius.”
Before you could respond, the gold-covered man slammed dice onto the table. “Let’s play, clown.”
Buggy rolled his shoulders lazily before flashing you a dramatic wink. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he announced loudly. “Your beloved future husband is about to commit several crimes for you.” You groaned into your hands and the crowd cheered.
The game lasted exactly four minutes before it devolved into absolute chaos. Honestly, you expected nothing less from Buggy. “At last!” the gold-covered pirate shouted as the dice rolled across the velvet table. “Looks like luck finally abandoned you, clown!” The crowd leaned forward. Lantern light flickered across mountains of beli stacked between the players while fireworks exploded over the harbor behind them.
Buggy stared at the dice dramatically, then sighed. “You know,” he said sadly, “I really tried to do this peacefully.”
The pirate frowned. “What?”
Buggy looked up, grinned, and snapped his fingers. The gambling table exploded. People screamed as ards, dice, and piles of money launched into the air while smoke burst upward in a violent cloud. Pirates scattered in every direction as detached Buggy hands flew through the chaos stealing wallets with terrifying efficiency.
“What the hell?!” someone yelled.
“HE CHEATED!”
“WAS THAT A CANNON!”
Buggy cackled loudly as the entire harbor erupted into panic. “RUN, SWEETHEART!”
You barely had time to react before he grabbed your wrist and bolted through the screaming crowd. “You blew up the table!”
“It was distracting!”
“That’s your solution to everything!”
“And yet it keeps working!” Marines shouted somewhere behind you. The harbor instantly split into chaos as soldiers rushed toward the explosion while terrified civilians flooded the docks. Away from the heavily guarded ship.
“You created a diversion.”
Buggy looked deeply offended. “Please. I created art.”
“You’re insane.”
“And brilliant.” That too, unfortunately. The two of you darted between crowded festival stalls while Buggy laughed like a man having the time of his life, which he probably was. A detached hand tossed stolen coins into the air beside him like confetti.
“Did you rob people while running?”
“Multitasking.”
“BUGGY.”
“What? They weren’t using it.”
Another explosion thundered behind you. You whipped around. “Was that you too?!”
“Focus on the mission!”
“The mission?!” you repeated incredulously. “You never even told me the mission!” Buggy suddenly grabbed your waist and pulled you sharply into a dark alley just as marines sprinted past the street entrance. Both of you froze as heavy footsteps thundered by while voices shouted and thhen faded.
As the silence settled between you two, you realized very suddenly how close he was. One arm wrapped around your waist.Your chest pressed against his.Blue hair brushing your forehead beneath the dim lantern light.
Buggy gazed down at you, and your heartbeat stumbled awkwardly. Then his detached hand floated into the alley carrying a stolen meat skewer. The moment shattered instantly. “Snack?” the hand offered. You burst out laughing. Buggy groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on! I was having a moment!”
“You absolutely were not.”
“I totally was!”
“You got interrupted by your own floating arm.”
“It lacks timing.” The hand flipped you both off and you laughed harder.
Buggy stared at you for a second before something softer crossed his expression, fondness. It vanished almost immediately beneath his usual grin, but you caught it. And suddenly the alley felt much smaller. Buggy cleared his throat loudly before stepping back. “Right! Important criminal business.”
You crossed your arms. “You owe me answers.”
“I owe you many things. Answers are negotiable.”
“Buggy.”
He sighed dramatically before finally jerking his thumb toward the harbor.
“That marine ship?” he said. “They’re transporting something valuable tonight.”
“Valuable how?”
Buggy’s eyes glittered.
“Treasure-map valuable.”
Ah, of course, you should’ve known. “And your plan,” you said slowly, “was to fake an engagement, start a riot, and rob marines during a city-wide festival.”
Buggy puffed up proudly. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“It sounded admiring.” Before you could argue, distant whistles echoed across the harbor. Buggy’s expression sharpened instantly. “They might have any idea of what we are after.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning,” he said with sudden excitement, “we’re improvising again.”
“That phrase keeps making my life worse.” Buggy grabbed your hand before sprinting from the alley and the harbor had become complete madness now. Festival lights reflected across dark ocean water while Marines pushed through crowds searching for suspects. Smoke from the explosions drifted between buildings as pirates fled in every direction.
And through all of it, Buggy dragged you straight toward the restricted docks. “You have no survival instincts!” you shouted.
“I have excellent survival instincts!”
“You just started a panic.”
“Yes, but stylishly!”
“You are insane!”
“And you’re holding my hand voluntarily!” You immediately tried pulling away. Buggy tightened his grip with a grin. “Too late now, sweetheart.” Then he stopped abruptly near the edge of the docks and you nearly crashed into him.
“What?” Your voice died instantly. The marine ship towered above the water ahead of you, lanterns glowing along polished decks lined with armed guards.
And standing at the center of the dock leading aboard, was the Marine captain from the hotel. Waiting. “Well,” the captain called calmly, sword already drawn, “that didn’t take long.”
Buggy clicked his tongue annoyed. The captain’s gaze slid toward your joined hands, then narrowed. “You planned this together.”
Buggy grinned lazily. “Aw, you think we’re coordinated.”
The air at the docks went still in a way that didn’t belong near a harbor full of chaos. Marines shouting in the distance. Festival fireworks cracking overhead. Waves slamming gently against the hull of the ship like nothing important was happening at all. Everything had narrowed down to a sword, a grin, and a hand still holding yours.
The Marine captain’s gaze stayed locked on the two of you. “So it was a distraction.”
Buggy the Clown tilted his head like he was genuinely offended. “A distraction?” he echoed. “That implies I needed to do something to draw attention.”
You muttered, “You absolutely did not need help drawing attention.”
“See?” Buggy pointed at you. “Supportive fiancée.”
The captain’s eyes sharpened. “Drop the act. We know you’re after the ship’s cargo.”
Buggy sighed dramatically, then let go of your hand. The absence of it was immediate in a way you didn’t like noticing. “Oh,” Buggy said lightly, rolling his shoulders. “So we’re skipping the banter part.” One of his detached hands drifted lazily beside him, twirling a knife between its fingers. “Good,” Buggy continued. “I hate small talk.”
The captain raised his sword slightly. “Surrender.”
Buggy blinked, then smiled. “You Marines always say that part like it means something,” he said.
A beat of silence, then the tension broke. Buggy moved first and he was fast. Too fast for someone who usually made a performance out of every step. His detached hands splitting in multiple directions like they were choreographed to chaos itself. The captain blocked the first strike, but not the second. You barely registered the clash of metal before Buggy was already behind him.
“You know what I like about festivals?” Buggy called casually.
The captain twisted, just barely avoiding a slash. “What?” the Marine snapped.
Buggy grinned. “Everyone’s already yelling.”
A cannon fired somewhere behind you and the dock shook. You stumbled back, and Buggy’s arm shot out, catching your wrist without looking, while still fighting. That should have scared you more. Instead, your pulse jumped for an entirely different reason.
His gaze flicked between you and Buggy. “You’re not just robbing us,” he realized.
Buggy laughed. “I’m a pirate stealing is kind of what we do.”
The captain’s expression hardened. “You’re using them.”
Buggy stopped moving, but only for second. “Careful,” he said softly. “That’s a dangerous accusation.”
The captain lifted his sword. “Is it wrong?”
You looked at Buggy, really looked. Waiting for the joke, a deflection of some kind, even his normal dramatic nonsense.
Instead, he didn’t look at the captain, no he looked at you. It was like he was checking something and was deciding something at the same time. Then he exhaled. “Yeah,” Buggy said finally. “I would never use them for something as boring as a distraction.”
He snapped his fingers and the dock exploded in color, confetti, smoke bombs, fireworks bursting in sudden violent beauty across the harbor. The sound swallowed everything.
The Marines shouted in confusion and the captain raised his arm to shield his eyes all while Buggy pulled you behind him. “Move,” he said under his breath.
You darted across the shaking dock as Marines scrambled through smoke and color. Buggy was holding your hand again, steady, guiding you straight toward the ship’s gangplank “You’re enjoying this too much,” you shouted over the noise.
“I always enjoy winning,” he shot back.
“That’s not what I meant!”
He glanced at you briefly. “I know.” That answer shouldn’t have made your stomach twist, but it did. Behind you, the Marine captain barked orders through the chaos. Buggy stopped at the base of the ramp, causing you to almost collided with him.
“What now?” you asked quickly. Instead, he looked up at the Marine ship and then down at you.
“You can leave,” he said.
You blinked. “What?”
Buggy shrugged like it didn’t matter. “You’ve done enough. Marines are focused on me now. You get away and maybe you don’t get in trouble from Crocodile.”
The words should’ve felt like relief, but they didn’t. Because he still hadn’t let go of your hand. “And you?” You asked.
Buggy hesitated, then forced a smile again “I’ve got a treasure map to steal.”
You stared at him. There was still fireworks were still going off behind you. The harbor still burning in noise and light. Marines still shouting somewhere in the distance.
But right here, it was somehow quiet. “You’re really just going to let me walk away?” you asked.
Buggy opened his mouth and closed it. Then laughed once, short and sharp. “Don’t make this weird,” he said. But his grip tightened instead of letting go. That told you everything his mouth wasn’t saying.
The silence between you and Buggy the Clown stretched longer than it had any right to. But right here, at the base of the Marine ship’s ramp, everything felt too still. Buggy’s grip on your hand was the only thing keeping you anchored in it. “You can leave,” he repeated, like saying it again might make it easier. “Seriously. No one’s stopping you.”
You looked at him, really looked. “I’m not walking away,” you said.
For a second, nothing happened. Buggy just stared at you. Like his brain had stopped working properly. Then he scoffed, too fast. “Tch. Don’t get sentimental,” he said, but his voice came out slightly wrong. “This isn’t a romance. It’s a very profitable misunderstanding.”
You squeezed his hand. “You were going to let me go,” you said quietly.
“That was the plan,” he snapped immediately.
“Why?”
Buggy looked away toward the ship instead, because looking at you seemed harder now.
“Because you weren't supposed to be a part of this,” he said finally. The wind shifted across the dock, carrying smoke and salt and the faint noise of collapsing festival lights.
You didn’t let go and neither did he. “So that’s it?” you asked. “You just drop me here like I was never part of it?”
Buggy’s smile twitched. “Hey,” he said sharply, “you got a very memorable experience.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s a good one.”
“Buggy.”
“This is the safest option for you.” That finally snapped something in you.
You stepped closer, pulling him closer to you. “You didn’t let go when they showed up,” you said. Buggy went still. “You didn’t let go in the alley,” you continued. Still nothing. “And you’re still holding my hand right now.” That did it, his fingers tightened once, just slightly and then loosened like he realized it
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
You softened your voice. “So why are you acting like I’m not already part of it?”
“You don’t get it,” he muttered.
“Then explain it.”
He let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, sure. ‘Hey, come risk your life for a clown with a bounty the size of a kingdom because he’s fun at parties.’ Technically Crocodile is your captain not me, I can’t order you are around like that.”
“It sounds like you’re deciding for me.”
Buggy’s jaw tightened. “I’m not deciding for you,” he snapped. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t regret it later.”
You tilted your head slightly. “Regret what?”
Buggy didn’t answer immediately, the Marine ship creaked above you, massive and waiting. Behind it, the harbor continued to burn with chaos he’d created. And still, he looked at you like this was the hardest thing he’d done all night. “This,” he said finally, quieter. “Me.”
You stared at him, then at your joined hands. “You really think I’m just going to walk away because you told me to?” you asked.
Buggy’s eye narrowed slightly. “People usually do.”
“Yeah,” you said. “I’m noticing a pattern of you assuming I’m like those people.” You stepped even closer now, voice lowering. “You made a fake fiancé out of me in a casino full of marines,” you said. “I kissed you in front of the marines and you dragged me into a riot that you caused. ” Buggy stiffened slightly at kiss part. “And now you’re telling me I’m not part of this?” you finished. “That sounds like I’m already in it.”
Buggy’s expression cracked. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, “that’s kind of the problem.”
You raised an eyebrow. “For who?”
He finally looked at you properly again. “For me, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Your breath caught.
“Buggy...” He kissed you before you could say anything else. It wasn’t smooth but it wasn’t like to hotel. It felt almost frustrated, like he’d been trying not to do this for hours and finally lost the fight with himself. One hand caught your waist hard enough to pull you against him while the other stayed tangled with your fingers like he still refused to let go completely.
Fireworks burst somewhere above the harbor, color flashing across closed eyes and smoke-heavy air, but the sound felt distant compared to the sharp jump of your heartbeat. And somehow beneath all the chaos, there was hesitation there too, like he still expected you to pull away.
But you didn’t, the second you kissed him back, something in him broke completely. His grip tightened. A quiet sound caught in his throat before he buried it by kissing you harder, all heat and adrenaline and months worth of carefully avoided feelings collapsing at once.
When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. His forehead nearly rested against yours, breath uneven. “.Well,” Buggy muttered after a second, voice rougher than before. “That probably made things worse.”
You stared at him. “For the Marines?” you asked softly.
Buggy grinned again at last, “No,” he said. “For me, but that's okay.” A cannon fired somewhere behind you, snapping your two attention back to the situation at hand. “Since you’re staying, you stick with me and one rule,” Buggy said, pointing dramatically at you. “Don’t die.”
“That’s your rule?”
“It’s a very important rule.” You shook your head slightly, despite the smile threatening to show.
Buggy glanced at the ship again and then back at you, giving you a quick kiss. “Let’s get that map.”
~~~~~ Bonus Scene ~~~~~
Crocodile didn’t look up from his papers when you walked in. “Sit,” said Crocodile flatly. You sat down quickly, not wanting to upset him. A cigar glowed faintly between his fingers. He flipped a page, then another and the silence stretched. So, you waited.
Finally, “Explain,” Crocodile said.
You blinked. “Explain what?”
That earned you a slow, tired glance. The kind that suggested he already knew everything and was just deciding how annoyed he should be about it. “This,” he said. He dropped the newspaper onto the desk and slid across polished wood.
The headline read “BUGGY THE CLOWN HAS LOVER?” Underneath was a picture of the two of you kissing on the dock. You couldn’t completely tell it was you, but Crocodile knew. Hell, when you two made it back, Buggy was telling everyone you two were together.
You exhaled through your nose. “Oh.”
Crocodile’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh,” he repeated.
You gestured vaguely. “Well, you heard we got together, I just didn’t realize this was going around in the news”
Crocodile leaned back slightly in his chair as sand began to swirl around him. “So,” he said slowly, “will the clown’s personal life affect my assistant's ability to perform their job.”
You hesitated, then decided honesty was safer, “It shouldn’t impact my ability to perform my job.” You said carefully.
Crocodile tapped ash into a tray. “You are my assistant,” he said.
“Yes.”
“And you are also on my payroll.”
“Yes.”
“And you are currently classified as ‘Buggy’s lover in marine intelligence reports.”
You sighed. “Well, it is accurate.”
Crocodile stared at you for a long moment, and his cigar embers glowed faintly. “You truly like that idiot clown?” Crocodile asked.
You didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes.”
Another long silence, then Crocodile leaned back again, exhaling slowly. “Of all the variables I expected to impact the Cross Guild,” he muttered, “your emotional entanglement with that clown was not one of them. I honestly thought it would have been Mihawk, he seemed more your type.”
You smile lightly, “Buggy would be offended by that.”
“I am not concerned with offending him.” Crocodile said immediately.
You studied him. “So, am I in trouble?”
That got a pause, Crocodile looked at you for a long moment debating his answer, “For now no,” he said. “But the clown will not interfere with any of the assignments that I give you.”
You nodded; that was totally fair.
Crocodile stood and with that the meeting was over. As you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “One more thing.” You turned, Crocodile didn’t look at you directly as he reached for another cigar, “If the clown causes you any troubles let me know.”
Summary: When Mihawk is away the Humandrills come out to play. At least you they are keeping you entertained while your love is gone.
Masterlist
You stood with Mihawk on the deck, his black coat catching the few beams of light breaking through the dark clouds above with Yoru on his back. “You’ll be fine here,” he said, his deep voice low and steady. “Be careful.” His eyes flicked toward the Humandrills, who were scuttling around the rocks, chattering amongst themselves. “They know better than to test you, but don’t let them get too unruly.”
You smiled, reaching up to rest your hand on his cheek as he turned slightly, giving your hand a kiss. “I’ll manage,” you said, trying to hide the flutter in your chest. Even a simple exchange with him could make your stomach do somersaults.
Mihawk’s gaze softened fractionally, “Be careful,” he murmured again, then his hand brushed your cheek. Your heart thumped at the intimacy of it. You in turn kissed his hand back and his sharp features softened further as he looked at you.
“I’ll miss you,” you whispered.
“Not for long,” he replied, the corner of his mouth tilting up ever so slightly. Then, with a quiet turn, he stepped toward his ship, the familiar rhythm of his boots on wood echoing behind him. As the ship sailed away, the stillness returned to the island, and you exhaled deeply. Mihawk was gone, temporarily, and now it was just you and the Humandrills.
“Well… looks like it’s just us,” you said, meeting their curious eyes. They tilted their heads, sizing you up. None of them made a move toward you yet, they’d always been careful, their fear of Mihawk stronger than their mischief, but you could tell they were already plotting something.
One of the smaller ones edged forward, sniffing your hand as you gave a gentle smile. The tiniest one squeaked, hopping onto your shoulder, chattering at you as if issuing a declaration. You chuckled, running a hand through its soft fur. “Alright, alright, I see how it is. You want attention, huh?”
Soon, a group gathered around you. “Okay,” you said, laughing, “let’s see if we can channel some of this energy.” You fetched a small pile of fruit, and they immediately scattered in delight, squeaking and squealing as they claimed their prize.
You watched as they scattered off with their prizes laughing at their silliness. Well, at least they weren’t causing you any trouble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your shared room felt quieter than usual. Mihawk had been gone for a few days, leaving a calm but lonely quite over the castle. You were sitting in a chair, cross-legged, trying to read a book, but your mind kept drifting to the empty chair where he usually sat. The empty space beside you felt too big.
A sudden flurry of squeaks and rustling caught your attention. You looked up to see a small parade of Humandrills marching into the room, each carrying something in their tiny hands. Your were shocked to see them inside the castle. They never would dare when Mihawk was around, but with him gone they must have gotten a bit bold. What was that old adage, when the cat is away the mice come out to play?
“Wait, what do you have there?” You asked, eyes widening as the first one skidded to a stop and dropped a small bundle of sticks at your feet. Another squeaked, holding out a neatly gathered pile of flowers. A third one clutched a shiny stone, carefully inspecting your reaction before setting it down beside the others.
You laughed softly, bending down to pick up the sticks. “You guys are trying to cheer me up?”
The Humandrills squeaked in agreement, bouncing excitedly. The smallest one climbed onto your shoulder, nudging your cheek with a tiny hand as if saying, See? We’re helping!
“Okay, okay,” you said, gathering the flowers into a small vase nearby. “And this little rock… hmm, perfect for my desk.” You petted the one on your shoulder who squeaked and hugged your neck in return, clearly proud of their work.
A few moments later, they scattered, returning with even more “treasures”: a leaf shaped like a heart, a small feather, a tiny acorn. Each one was presented with ceremony, as if they were offering you the most precious gifts in the world.
You shook your head, laughing. "You're ridiculous but I love it. Thank you.” You pressed a gentle kiss to each of their heads as they squeaked in delight, tumbling over one another in their excitement.
For a while, you just sat there, surrounded by their little offerings, your heart a little lighter despite Mihawk’s absence. The Humandrills snuggled closer enjoying being around you.
~~~~~~~~~~
After the first day they broke into the castle, you figured you would spend more time outside. As much as you loved having the Humandrills around, encouraging them to come into the castle could lead to some problems when Mihawk comes back. You started taking walks around the island and exploring places you didn’t know as well. Of course, you would have a group of your new friends following along with you.
But today task was a bit different. You were knelt in the garden, hands deep in the soil, replanting some flowers. Some of the younger Humandrills had decided this was a good time to be "helpful”. One was patting down dirt around a young tomato plant with exaggerated care, another was holding a tiny watering can, trying to pour but mostly spilling water onto itself, and a third was chasing a butterfly around one of the flower beds, squeaking indignantly whenever it escaped.
You laughed, wiping your hands on your pants. “Careful! That’s for the plants, not to be dumped on you,” you said, gently taking the watering can from the one that was watering themselves. They squeaked at you in protest, but your chuckle seemed to soothe them instantly.
Just as you were kneeling to finish planting some roses, you felt a shadow fall across the garden. You glanced up, expecting to see one of the older Humandrills coming to collect the little ones, only to see Mihawk standing there, sword at his side, watching the scene with his usual sharp gaze.
He leaned against the garden gate, arms crossed, silently taking in the sight of you laughing with the Humandrills. One of them bounded up to you with a tiny carrot, squeaking proudly. You accepted it, holding it up to show Mihawk, who simply gave a faint, almost imperceptible nod of approval.
“Looks like they’ve been keeping you busy,” Mihawk said quietly, voice low and even, but you caught the corner of a small smile tugging at his lips.
“They have,” you admitted, brushing dirt from your hands. “I think they’ve decided I need a lot of supervision while you’re gone.” A Humandrill squeaked in agreement, climbing onto your shoulder and peeking around at Mihawk.
Mihawk’s gaze softened as he stepped forward, kneeling slightly to your level without breaking the distance that felt natural for him. “They haven't caused you any trouble?” His voice held a hint of concern.
“They haven't caused me any trouble,” you said, smiling, “actually they’ve been helping, sort of.” He hummed, watching you gather up a handful of dirt and carefully pat it over a newly planted row of flowers. The Humandrills squeaked and bounced around you, seemingly proud to have earned Mihawk’s approval.
Finally, unable to resist, one bold little monkey climbed onto your knee and pressed its tiny hand against your cheek, squeaking a question. You laughed and kissed the top of its head. Mihawk’s eyes softened even further, and though he said nothing, his hand was placed gently on your shoulder briefly, giving it a small squeeze before kneeling beside you giving you a kiss. “I love you.”
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I kick my feet and giggle every time you post a Buggy fic, I love the way you write him❤️✌️🥹
Awww thank you ☺️ 🩷. Buggy is such a fun character to write for. Honestly there will never be enough writings of him out there. I have a Buggy one shot in the works right now so hopefully I can get the rough draft finished and edited sometime this week.
Summary: Sanji flusters you and you are struggling to handle it.
A/N: Hoping to get back to posting regularly again, may be some shorter works until I get back into the flow.
Masterlist
You were sitting on the ship’s deck, a book open in your lap, enjoying a quiet moment while Luffy was napping on Sunny’s head. The sun was warm on your skin, and the waves caused the ship to rock gently and a light breeze brushed against your face. Everything was calm… too calm.
“Ahhh… there you are, my angel!” Your head shot up so fast you thought your neck might break. Striding across the deck was Sanji. He held a small plate carefully balanced in his hands, eyes sparkling as he gazed upon you.
“I prepared a little something for you,” he continued, kneeling dramatically before you. “A delicacy worthy of your radiant presence! Only the finest ingredients for the most exquisite on this ship!”
Your brain short-circuited. Exquisite? My presence? “Thank you, Sanji,” you stammered, cheeks heating. You held out your hands, attempting to take the plate without making direct eye contact. As you reached for the plate, your hand shook slightly causing the plate to wobble slightly.
Sanji’s eyes went wide. “Careful, I wouldn’t want your treat to be ruined lovely.”
“Sorry, I didn’t...” you tried, but your voice cracked slightly.
“Oh, angel,” he whispered, leaning closer, one hand reaching toward your, not touching but just close enough to make your heart skip, “you must let me care for you. I live to please you, to ensure your happiness and to bask in the beauty of your smile.”
You froze, literally froze as your hands gripped the plate like it was the only thing grounding you, otherwise you probably would have jumped overboard. “I… uh… wow, that’s… very… sweet?”
Sanji tilted his head, looking confused. “Sweet?”
“No! No! I mean... I just… uh… can’t… handle… words that dramatic!” You buried your face in your hands.
From a distance, Robin watched quietly, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. She had been watching for several minutes. “Sanji,” Robin called softly, her tone calm but firm, “perhaps your… enthusiasm is a little overwhelming for them.”
Sanji blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Overwhelming?” He looked back at you.
You peeked up, flustered and squirming. “I just don’t handle compliments well, that’s all.”
Sanji’s face brightened with his handsome smile appearing. “Ah... I see, so the angle merely struggles to understand their perfection.”
You groaned, covering your face again. “Don’t say things like that!”
Robin’s quiet chuckle echoed across the deck. “I believe that will take some time to adjust to your compliments, Sanji.”
Sanji leaned back slightly, still holding the plate for you, but with a newfound, softer patience in his eyes. “Time is nothing if it means caring for my angel.” You sighed, cheeks still blazing, realizing that this was going to be difficult but not unpleasant.
Summary: When your One Piece boyfriend finds merch of you things get interesting.
Masterlist / Part 1, Part 3, Part 4
💙🎪Buggy :
You weren’t supposed to be back yet. At least, that’s what everyone thought. Your mission had ended earlier than planned, and instead of making a big announcement, you decided to surprise Buggy. Which meant sneaking through the halls of ship while most of the crew was busy elsewhere.
You were almost at Buggy’s room when you heard something, “No, no, that’s not how it goes!”
You paused outside the door. “Huh?”
Then you heard him again. “But Captain Buggy would obviously save them first!”
You blinked. Was he arguing with someone? Curious, you slowly pushed the door open.
Inside the room, Buggy was sitting on the floor. Surrounded by what looked like a tiny dollhouse setup made from crates, bottles, and random junk. And in the middle of it, was two plushies.
One was unmistakably Buggy, the bright red nose, blue hair and tiny striped shirt. The other one was you. Your brain stalled for a full five seconds. Because Buggy was currently holding the little Buggy plush, making it dramatically gesture. “Don’t worry!” he said in a heroic voice. “Captain Buggy will defeat the Marines and save you!”
Then he grabbed the you plush, tilting it toward Buggy. “Oh wow, Captain Buggy! You’re so cool and brave!”
You covered your mouth, to keep from laughing. “I know,” Buggy said proudly through the plush. “It’s hard being this amazing.” You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you snorted.
Buggy froze and slowly he turned toward the door making eye contact with you.
The room went completely silent, you could have dropped a pin and heard it.
“Buggy.”
He screamed, just pure, panicked screaming. In one motion his devil fruit powers activated and his hands shot across the room trying to grab everything at once. “YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO SEE THAT!”
The plushies flew into the air as the tiny dollhouse collapsed. You quickly picked up the plush of you before it hit the floor. Buggy’s floating hands froze midair. You examined it, it was actually really well made. “Buggy.”
“I CAN EXPLAIN!”
You squeezed the plush. “This is adorable.”
He stopped. “What?”
You held it up. “Did you make this?”
His face immediately turned red. “No! I mean, well, maybe! But that’s not the point!”
You smiled and reached into your coat. “I mean it’s fair.”
Buggy squinted suspiciously. “What do you mean fair.”
You pulled something out, a folded piece of paper. And held it up so your boyfriend could see. Buggy’s eyes widened, because it was his wanted poster. “You carry that with you?”
You shrugged. “Of course.”
His brain visibly short-circuited. “Why.”
You smiled. “For when I want to see your handsome face.”
Buggy sat there silently for a moment, then his ego came roaring back. “WELL OF COURSE IT IS!” he shouted, jumping up dramatically.
You raised the plush and made it talk. “Oh wow Captain Buggy! You’re so cool and brave!”
He pointed at you. “HEY!”
You grinned. “So what happens next in the story?”
Buggy froze. “You’re not allowed to ask that.”
You sat down on the floor, holding the plush while rebuilding the doll house. “I want to see the ending.”
He stared at you, “Fine.”
He grabbed the Buggy plush and immediately slipped back into character. “Don’t worry!” he said dramatically. “Captain Buggy will always come back for you!”
You lifted your plush to reply. “Wow, Captain Buggy…” You smiled softly. “I knew you would.” Buggy tried very hard not to smile but wasn’t successful.
💙☠️Killer:
At a bustling port town, a loud stall drew the attention of the Killer, mlittered the small square. Normally, Killer ignored these distractions. But something flickered at the edge of his vision, a small, glossy photocard of you. His mask hid blush as his heart skipped at the sight of you. The photocard was perfect, you mid-action, caught somewhere between stunning and mischievous.
He didn’t even hesitate. “Keep it quiet,” he muttered under his breath, sliding a few berries across the table. Buying two extra copies, just in case.
Over the next few weeks, Killer’s affection for the merchandise of you grew quietly, carefully hidden from everyone. Your photo card was always somewhere on him, and when he was missing you, he would pull it out to look at.
Then came the keychain. Someone in port had made a tiny keychain of you as a chibi figure, complete with your signature pose. Killer attached it to his weapon sheath sometimes fiddled with it when sharpening his blades.
Heat had found a plush of you and insisted it was “too cute to ignore” and gave it to him during a stopover somewhat as a joke. But Killer adored it, sometimes, at night, when you had watch, he would pull the plush out from its hiding spot and have it the space that you would normally occupy.
He later found a small enamel pin of your face on it. It was typically found pinned somewhere on the inside of his shirt.
But his well-kept collection came to light one afternoon. You had stopped by his room unexpectedly, looking for spare charting paper in Killer’s cabin. “Ah, Killer, do you have...” you froze. A tiny plushie of you, slightly squished, sat on the bed. Then, carefully spread across the table, were the photocards, one slightly worn from constant handling, the pin and keychain.
You laughed softly. “Killer you’ve been collecting me?”
He froze, mask hiding the blush creeping over his exposed skin. “Uhhh...”
You picked up the photocard, inspecting it. “You’ve been carrying this around everywhere?”
He muttered, “It for when I miss you.”
You blinked, “You miss me that much?” you asked, quieter now, turning the photocard between your fingers. The edges were worn, proof it wasn’t just sitting around collecting dust.
Killer shifted slightly where he stood, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Even with the mask, it was obvious he’d been caught completely off guard. “When you aren’t with me, I miss you,” he muttered. “Even if we are on the say crew, we both are busy. You can’t always be around.”
You glanced around again, the plush on the bed, the extra photocards, the tiny keychain you’d seen hanging from his sheath more than once without realizing. All this time you hadn’t noticed. “Killer,” you stepped a little closer, still holding the photocard. “You could’ve just come to me, you know.”
“You’re usually busy,” he replied after a beat. “Didn’t want to interrupt.”
That made your chest tighten just a little. Without another word, you set the photocard back down carefully and picked up the plush from his bed. You brushed your thumb over its tiny face before looking back at him. You closed the distance between you, reaching out and gently tugging his hand. “If you miss me,” you said simply, “come find me.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, his hand came up, resting on your cheek, “Noted,” he murmured.
You smiled, giving his hand a kiss. “Good.” As you turned to leave, you paused at the doorway, glancing back over your shoulder. “Oh and Killer?”
“Yeah?”
You grinned. “Next time you buy merch, see if they have any of you. I would like to have you with me also for when I miss you.”
💛🫀Trafalgar Law:
Law’s room was unusually quiet, save for the faint clink of metal as he carefully unlocked a chest. He pulled out a wrapped package from the corner of the chest. His eyes, sharp and calculating as ever, softened the moment he examined the contents; a new photocard of you, one he hadn’t been able to track down until now.
He set it on the table beside him, inspecting the print with near-reverent care. “Hmph… this one’s… surprisingly detailed,” he muttered, tilting it under the light. His fingers traced the edges of the card carefully.
From the chest, he began pulling out the rest of the collection. Pins, keychains, tiny figurines, all carefully packed and arranged. Some were stacked neatly in little boxes, others tucked into soft pouches. He laid them out like a general inspecting his army, muttering the occasional critique, “Too scratched… too dull… yes… that one’s perfect.”
Law held the new photocard up to the collection, scrutinizing where it should go. He hummed softly to himself, a sound so rare that if someone had heard it, they might have mistaken Law had been replaced.
He carefully placed the card in its spot, then stepped back, surveying the chest’s contents. Every piece, every tiny relic of you, held some part of him, his obsession hidden beneath his usual stoic exterior. As he reached for another figure, a soft shuffle from the doorway made him freeze mid-motion.
Law’s hand froze midair, fingers inches from a tiny figurine of you. The shuffle had stopped, but the silence that followed felt, wrong. He didn’t turn immediately, calculating his next move, “Well… this is unexpected.”
You stepped into the doorway, arms crossed, a sly smile playing on your lips. “I could say the same about you, Law. Care to explain why you have all of this?”
His eyes narrowed, but light pink covering his cheeks made the look lose any power. “Explain? To you?” He gestured vaguely at the spread before him, “This is for cataloging purposes.”
You stepped closer, tilting your head as your eyes scanned the meticulous rows of photocards, pins, and figurines. “Cataloging, huh?” You reached down and picked up a tiny keychain of you, holding it up like a trophy. “And here I thought I was the only one obsessed with you.”
Law’s gaze flicked to the keychain in your hand, then back to you. A rare flash of vulnerability crossed his face. “You have one too?”
You smirked. “Maybe. A few.” You pulled a small pouch from your coat pocket, letting a few pieces spill into your hand, a figurine, pin, and even a photocard of him. “Seems we have… similar hobbies.”
Law let out a quite chuckle. “So, we’re even?” he asked, voice low but soft.
“Not even close,” you replied, stepping closer poking him in the chest. “I’d say I’ve got the better collection.”
Law’s eyes darkened slightly, but there was a teasing edge to the smile now tugging at his lips. “Unlikely, but maybe we should compare just to check.”
Your laughed, “We will see, I’ll be right back.” You place a kiss on his cheek before rushing off to grab you own collection. Law watched you rush off smiling after you before looking down at his own collection of you. He may be obsessed with his partner, but his partner was just as obsessed with him too, and that made him happier than anything in his collection. He had one thing no one else could, you.
❤️🍖Monkey D. Luffy:
Luffy’s eyes darted across the crowded market, when he saw something unusual among the sea of hats, flags, and tiny pirate trinkets. A small, perfectly detailed plush caught his attention. Its big eyes, soft cheeks, and outfit made it instantly familiar. “…Hey! That looks like (Y/N)?” He mumbled, tilting his head.
Just as he leaned in to take a closer, another pirate reached for the plush at the same time. Luffy’s eyes widened before stretching out his hand and swiping the plush before the other pirate could lay his hands on it.
Luffy’s grin widened looking down at the plush version of you and without hesitation, he bolted through the crowd, clutching the plush against his chest. “HEY YOU DIDN”T PAY!” the stall keeper shouted, but he didn’t slow down. The chaos of market covered his trail as he made off with the plush of you.
By the time he returned to the ship, the other Straw Hats were gathered on deck, chatting about their own shopping. “Look what I got!” Luffy announced, holding up the plush triumphantly. “It’s (Y/N)!”
The crew collectively blinked, half curious and half confused. Luffy hugged it tight, bouncing with pride.
“You got merch of your own partner?” Usopp ask, shaking his head, while Zoro rolled his eyes.
Luffy just beamed. “Of course! They're the best! And now everyone knows it!” The Straw Hat ship rocked gently as the sun shone over the deck. Luffy sprinted across it, clutching a small plush to his chest like a prized treasure. “Look! Look! It’s (Y/N)!” he shouted, holding it high for everyone to see.
Zoro raised an eyebrow, leaning against the mast. “You stole merch of your girlfriend.”
“And I don’t regret it!” Luffy grinned. Before anyone could respond, Luffy was already setting up a tiny “training course” for the plush between barrels. He jumped over ropes, dodged imaginary cannonballs, and even tried to balance it on his head.
Sanji passed by, muttering under his breath, “Only Luffy could treat a plush like a real person.”
Just as Luffy attempted to launch the plush onto the sail, a shadow fell over him. “Luffy,” You stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, trying not to laugh. “Is that me?”
Luffy froze mid-motion, the plush still in his hands as he slowly turned toward you. His grin didn’t fade, if anything, it got wider. “Yeah! It’s you!” he said proudly, holding it up like he’d just found the greatest treasure in the world. “Look how tiny you are!”
You walked closer, eyeing the plush. It really was detailed; the outfit matched yours perfectly, even down to the little accessories. You reached out, poking its cheek lightly. “It’s kind of cute.”
“Right?!” Luffy lit up, clearly thrilled you approved. “I saw it and knew I had to have it!”
Nami crossed her arms from nearby, giving him a sharp look. “Had to have it? You mean stole it.”
Luffy shrugged without a shred of guilt. “Someone else was going to take it.!”
You sighed, shaking your head, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “So you got a plush of me because someone else was going to buy?”
“Yeah!” Luffy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You're my partner not theirs.” That caught you off guard for a second. Sanji, who had been listening in, immediately clutched his chest. “How can he say things like that so casually?!”
Zoro snorted. “Idiot doesn’t even realize what he’s saying.”
You laughed softly, “Thanks, Luffy. But next time” you leaned in slightly, kissing his forehead, “try paying for it.” Luffy beamed, hugging the plush tightly while giving you a kiss back. By the end of the day, Luffy had the plush strapped into a tiny hammock near the mast, narrating every little ship activity like it was an actual crew member.
❤️🗡️Red-Haired Shanks:
The first thing you noticed, after month long mission away, when you stepped into the deck on the Red Force was that it was unusually quiet. Which, honestly, was suspicious. Usually there was laughter, bottles rolling around, or at least the distant sound of someone arguing. But right now the ship seemed calm.
Too calm.
You wander further into the ship heading towards the captain’s quarters hoping to find your partner, excited to see after being apart for a month. Walking into the room you then you saw something was lying on Shanks’ bed.
“What?” You walked closer, your brain trying to catch up with what you were seeing. Because there was absolutely no way, your eyes had to be messing with you. But they weren’t. There, sitting right in the middle of the bed you shared with Shank’s was a body pillow. And printed across the entire thing was you.
You stared at it. Your face. Your clothes. Your smile. Someone had even drawn you in a slightly dramatic pose like some kind of poster model. You picked it up with both hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The door suddenly creaked open behind you and you turned. Standing there, completely frozen, was Shanks. For once in his life, the Yonko looked caught. His eyes flicked from you, to the pillow in your hands, and then back to you.
Neither of you spoke for a long moment just staring at eachother. Then you slowly lifted the pillow higher. “Shanks.”
He rubbed the back of his neck with his good hand. “Hey lover.”
You stared at him. “Why,” you said slowly, “do you have a body pillow with me on it?”
“Well,” he said casually, “you were gone for so long.”
You blinked. “That does not explain this.”
He stepped further into the room, glancing at the pillow like it had personally betrayed him. “It helps me sleep. I got used to having you in the bed.”
You stared. “You cuddle it?”
“Maybe.”
“You talk to it.”
“I do not talk to it.”
At that exact moment, a voice drifted in from outside the cabin. “Yeah, he does.” The door was suddenly shoved open wider as Lucky Roux leaned inside, like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. “He says goodnight to it every night.”
Shanks spun toward the door. “I do NOT!”
Another voice chimed in calmly from the hallway. “Told you they’d find it eventually.” Leaning against the doorway was Benn Beckman, cigarette in hand, looking deeply unsurprised.
You slowly turned back to Shanks. “Every night?”
Shanks pointed accusingly at the door. “They’re exaggerating.”
Lucky Roux grinned. “He tucks it in.”
“I DO NOT TUCK IT IN.”
You were trying, really trying, not to laugh. But then you noticed something and you flipped the pillow over. And froze again. “Shanks.”
“Yeah?”
“Why is the other side different.” He suddenly looked very interested in the ceiling.
The print on the back was another image of you. Except this one was much more dramatic.
You looked back at him slowly. “Is this a swimsuit version?” From the doorway, Lucky Roux burst out laughing.
“THAT ONE WAS LIMITED EDITION!” Shanks blurted defensively as he crossed his arms like he was completely justified. “They were almost sold out!”
You dropped onto the bed laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”
Shanks walked over and sat beside you, kissing you, “Well,” he said, grinning, “you’re here now.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So, you don’t need it anymore?”
He thought about that for exactly one second. “I’m keeping it.” You threw the pillow at his face. From outside the cabin, the crew erupted into laughter.
Summary: When your One Piece boyfriend finds merch of you things get interesting.
Masterlist / Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
The shop smelled faintly of incense and old paper. Basil Hawkins ran a hand over a wooden table cluttered with oddities: crystal spheres, playing cards, and a dusty tarot deck that had caught his attention. He frowned lightly, intrigued, “Huh.” The deck was unlike anything he’d seen before. The illustrations were uncanny, elegant, and, he froze at this, it was you.
Each card featured you in a different pose, one where you held a staff like the High Priestess, another lounging among floating roses as the Empress, one in a shadowed hooded cloak as the Death card.
Hawkins slowly picked up the deck, flipping through it with precise fingers. “They really went all out.” A faint chuckle escaped him. He set the deck down carefully, then picked up the box to inspect it. On the back, gold-foil letters read: “The (Y/N) Tarot Deck — Limited Collector’s Edition.”
“Collector’s edition,” he murmured, almost to himself, a small, smile tugged at his lips. He could almost feel the cards aligning fate itself around you. Without thinking too much, Hawkins purchased the deck.
Later, back at the ship, he set it on a small stand by his bed. It wasn’t just decoration, no, he would read the cards. When he finally drew one, the Tower card, and realized you were depicted on it, perfectly composed in all your glory, he let out a soft laugh. “Of course.” And in a rare, unguarded moment, Hawkins quietly whispered, “You really are everywhere love.”
The creaking wood was the only sound in the cabin. Basil Hawkins sat cross-legged on the floor, the (Y/N) Tarot Deck spread carefully in front of him. Each card was pristine, the art immaculate. You, of course, were everywhere.
Hawkins drew a card, sliding it slowly from the deck. He didn’t glance at it immediately. He let it hover over his palm as if the fates themselves might whisper their secrets. “The Fool,” he murmured “Appropriate,” he whispered, tilting his head toward the ceiling as if expecting a celestial nod.
He drew another, flipping it with ritualistic care. “Strength.” He paused. His eyes, normally unreadable, softened slightly as they lingered on the card.
You had been standing quietly in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame, watching, this was very Hawkins behavior, but the way he was looking at the cards was almost lovestruck. You approached and noticed the cards depicted you, “Uh Hawkins?” you finally asked. “Are you doing a reading on yourself with me?”
Hawkins didn’t look up. His focus was absolute, reverent even. “Yes,” he said flatly. “This deck is illuminating.” You stepped closer, eyes narrowing as you scanned the spread, every card featured you in some mystical, ethereal pose.
Hawkins reached out and drew another card. He turned it over with the same deliberate precision as before and then he stopped. You leaned in slightly. “Well? What is it this time? Let me guess. Me again?” He didn’t respond, “Hawkins?” You leaned sitting beside him resting your chin on his shoulder.
The Lovers.
The illustration was a bit different. You were still there, of course, but this time, you weren’t alone. A second figure stood opposite you, tall, composed, draped in dark robes. Golden hair framing a face you knew far too well. “Oh, how interesting,” you said under your breath.
Hawkins didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lingered on the card, sharper now, more focused than before, as if recalculating something unseen. “The Lovers upright,” he finally said; you said nothing just focused your attention on him.
You crossed your arms. “And what does that mean?”
He tilted his head slightly, studying the card again. “Probability of romantic significance” he paused, as if listening to something only he could hear, “one hundred percent.”
You let out a small breath through your nose. “Well. That’s not exactly groundbreaking, Hawkins.”
“No,” he agreed.
But he didn’t look away from the card, that was what caught your attention. Hawkins was always composed, always certain, but now there was something more deliberate in the way his fingers rested along the edge of the card, like he was measuring it against something unseen.
You shifted your weight. “So? What else does it mean?”
“The Lovers,” he repeated, quieter this time. “Is not merely romance.”
You raised a brow. “Oh?”
“A binding choice,” he said. “A path that, once taken, alters all others.”
Your expression softened, just slightly. “That sounds dramatic.”
“It is precise.” Hawkins’ thumb traced the card once, slow and thoughtful. “The future is never fixed,” he said. “Only highly probable.”
You smiled faintly. “And ours?”
“Exceptionally so.”
You turned your head, studying him now instead of the card. “You’re saying we’re inevitable?”
“I’m saying,” Hawkins replied, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours, “that every deviation I calculate returns to the same outcome.”
Your chest tightened at that, “Which is?”
His eyes held yours, steady and unreadable as ever. “You.” Hawkins, seemingly satisfied, set the Lovers card down with the rest of the spread. “Further confirmation is unnecessary,” he added calmly.
You blinked. “That’s it? That’s all I get after a one hundred percent declaration?”
“Yes,” he said, reaching for the deck again, completely composed, “entirely accurate.”
“Well, if that is what the cards are saying it must be true.” He turned his attention from the cards to you, then he reached out, fingers brushing lightly against your chin, guiding your gaze up to meet his, his thumb brushed you lips and then he kissed you.
❤️🔥⛓️Heat & Wire:
Heat was the first one to notice it. Not because he was particularly observant, Wire liked to remind him of that constantly, but because he was the one digging through a pile of stolen loot Kid’s crew had hauled in from their latest raid.
“Oi,” Heat muttered, holding something up between two fingers. “Why is there a picture of them in here?”
Wire didn’t even look up at first. “We steal from half the Grand Line. Could be anyone.”
“No, idiot,” Heat said, more insistent now. “(Y/N).”
That got his attention, Wire glanced over, and then paused. “Huh.” It was you, definitely you. A small, glossy card. Stylized, a little dramatic, like something meant to be collected. Your face, your expression, even your outfit slightly idealized, but unmistakably you. There was even a little decorative border.
You blinked from where you were sitting on a crate nearby. “What?”
Heat strode over, holding it out. “Explain.”
You leaned in, and immediately froze. “Where did you get that?”
Wire was already standing now, plucking it gently from Heat’s hand and inspecting it like it might explode. “This isn’t just some random photo.” There was a beat. “Why do you exist as merchandise?” he asked, very calmly.
You covered your face with your hands. “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.”
Heat barked out a laugh. “So you knew about this?!”
“It’s not like I ordered them!” you shot back. “They just exist!”
Wire flipped it over. “There’s a series number.”
Heat leaned over his shoulder. “Oh, there is more of these.”
Wire tilted his head slightly. “Limited run, maybe. Or part of a larger collection.”
“STOP ANALYZING IT LIKE THAT,” you groaned.
Too late, because now Heat looked delighted. “Oh, we’re finding the rest.”
“No, you’re not.”
“We absolutely are,” he said, already turning toward the door. “If there’s more of these, I want the full set.”
Wire nodded once. “Agreed.”
You stared at both of them. “Why are you like this.
A week later, it had gotten worse, much worse. “Look,” Heat said proudly, slamming something onto the table. It was a pin-up poster of you in a bathing suit
You made a noise that was somewhere between a scream and a whimper. “WHERE ARE YOU EVEN FINDING THESE?”
“Trade routes,” Wire said smoothly, adjusting his glasses. “Certain islands seem to specialize in fan goods.”
You buried your face in your hands. “I hate all of both.”
“Not true,” Heat said. “You love us.”
“Unfortunately.”
Wire, meanwhile, was carefully smoothing out the poster like it was something priceless. “The print quality is quite good. Whoever is producing these knows what they’re doing.”
You peeked through your fingers. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
Heat snorted. “He’s been collecting them.”
“I have not been ‘collecting,’” Wire corrected. “I’ve been acquiring selectively.”
Heat immediately pulled open a drawer. Inside was multiple items: photo cards, an enamel pin., and something that looked like a keychain.
You lunged for it. “GIVE ME THAT...”
Wire shut the drawer with his foot before you could reach it. “No.”
“WHY?”
“Because,” he said calmly, “this is fascinating.”
Heat slung an arm around your shoulders, completely unhelpful. “C’mon, it’s kinda flattering.”
“You have a pin-up of me,” you said flatly.
“Yeah,” he said. “And?”
You turned to look at him slowly. “Do you not see the problem?”
He shrugged. “I’m dating you. I get the real thing and the limited edition versions.”
Wire nodded thoughtfully. “That does increase perceived value.”
“YOU ARE BOTH INSANE.
Later that night, though, you found Wire alone, looking at one of the photo cards. “You know I’m right here,” you said, leaning against the doorway.
“I’m aware.”
“Then why keep those?”
He was quiet for a moment, then spoke softer than usual, “They’re different.”
You raised a brow. “Different how?”
Wire glanced at the card, then back at you. “For when you can’t be here.”
That softened you immediately. You walked over, gently taking the card from his hand and then replacing it with your own. “Then hold onto me instead.”
Wire’s fingers curled around yours without hesitation. “I prefer this version,” he admitted.
From the doorway, Heat’s voice cut in, “Yeah, same, but I’m still keeping the poster.” You threw a pillow at him.
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Summary: When your One Piece boyfriend finds merch of you things get interesting.
Masterlist / Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
🖤🐊Crocodile:
The underground casino was loud. Chips clattered and cards slapped against tables. People argued over bets while others laughed and cheered as they won. But the moment a man went flying across the room crashing into a Roulet table covered in sand the room went silent. Crocodile brushed imaginary dust from his coat sleeve like nothing had happened. “Unfortunate,” he said calmly.
The dealer across the table looked like he might faint. “…S-sir…”
Crocodile sat down. “Now,” he said, lighting his cigar, “let’s continue.”
The dealer swallowed. “O-of course.”
Crocodile’s golden hook tapped lightly against the table as his eyes drifted toward the prize at the middle of the table. That was the reason he was here, a small glass case sat there. Inside it was a limited run photocard of you. Apparently some ridiculous promotion had produced merchandise featuring you, posters, pins, prints, photo cards.
Most people thought it was just novelty collectibles. Crocodile treated them like treasure; someone had gotten lucky earlier tonight and won the card. That someone was currently the man on the floor. Crocodile exhaled a thin stream of smoke. “Bring me the prize.”
The dealer hesitated. “But sir, the winner...”
Crocodile glanced over at the unconscious man and then back at the dealer as sand began to swirl around him, “Is unable to claim it.”
The dealer moved immediately, seconds later the glass case was placed on the table.
Crocodile opened it, carefully taking out the card of you. You were smiling in the picture, that ridiculously charming smile that made him interested in you the first time he ever laid eyes on you.
Crocodile stared at it for a moment, then slipped it into the inner pocket of his coat. He walked toward the exit like the entire incident had been nothing more than an inconvenience.
Later that night, you stepped into Crocodile’s office. He was sitting behind his desk, cigar burning lazily between his fingers. “You’re back early,” he said without looking up.
You leaned against the desk. “I heard a rumor and wanted to know if it was true.”
That got his attention. His eyes lifted. “Rumors.”
“About someone beating up a gambler in a casino tonight.” He said nothing. You pulled something from your pocket a small package. There were your photocards. Crocodile’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’ve been collecting these,” you said.
Silence. “Who told you?”
You held up the photocard; it was a special edition; one he had been looking for. You smiled. “I got it for you.”
For a moment the feared pirate just stared. You walked around the desk and set it down in front of him. “Did you really beat someone up over one of these?”
Crocodile leaned back in his chair. “He got in the way.”
You laughed softly. “You’re unbelievable.”
He picked up the card and looked at it again. Then at you. “It’s rare.”
“Well, they are of me, I figured out who makes them and they gave me copies of all the ones of me.”
Crocodile went very still. “You did what?” he asked.
You leaned casually against his desk, completely unfazed. “Tracked down the people making them. Turns out they’re very enthusiastic.” You shrugged lightly. “They gave me extras. Said I was ‘good for business.’”
His cigar paused halfway to his lips. For a man who dealt in underground networks, information, and control the idea that an entire operation had been circulating about you, and he didn’t know about was annoying. His eyes flicked down to the stack of photocards in front of him then back up to you. “And you decided to give them to me,” he said.
You smiled faintly. “You seemed to want them.”
A quiet exhale of smoke followed, “I don’t want things,” he said finally.
You raised an eyebrow. “You assaulted a man over cardboard.”
“He was in the way,” he repeated smoothly.
You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “Right.”
He reached forward, picking up the rare card you’d handed him, turning it slightly between his fingers. “They don’t capture you properly,” he muttered.
You blinked. “Oh?”
His gaze lifted to meet yours “They’re incomplete.”
You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “Then why collect them?”e.
“Because they’re what I can have when you’re not here.”
Your expression softened. “Crocodile.” Slowly, he set the card down on the desk and reached out, his hook resting against the wood while his other hand caught your wrist.
“You said you have all of them,” he said.
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then leave them.”
You blinked. “All of them?”
His thumb brushed once, slow and deliberate, against your wrist. “I don’t like the idea of them being anywhere else.”
You stared at him for a moment, then laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re seriously territorial over photocards?”
His expression didn’t change. “Over what’s mine,” he corrected.
You gently slipped your wrist free as you tapped the stack of cards on his desk. “Fine,” you said. “But if you’re going to hoard every version of me…” You leaned in slightly, just enough to close the space between you. “…you don’t get to ignore the real one.”
Crocodile smirked as he pulled you into his lap kissing you. “I never do.”
🖤🦩Doflamingo:
The idea had been brilliant, at least at first. Inside his lavish office in stacks of colorful merchandise covered the table: photo cards, pins, and even plush dolls. Every single one featured you. Sitting in his chair, legs crossed comfortably, Doflamingo adjusted his sunglasses while examining one of the posters.
A wide grin stretched across his face. “Fufufufu, these are selling faster than I expected.”
Across the room, Trebol was practically vibrating with excitement. “Behehehe! Young Master! The first shipment sold out in two hours!”
Doflamingo laughed. “Of course it did.”
He held up a photocard of you between two fingers. “People will buy anything if you package it correctly.”
You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “You’re selling me.”
He didn’t even look surprised you were there. “Technically,” he said casually, “I’m selling your image.”
You walked over and grabbed one of the plushies, it really did look like you. “You made plushies.”
“They’re very popular.”
You squeezed it, and it squeaked. You stared at him. “Doffy.”
He leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed. “Fufufu.”
Before you could reply, the door burst open. One of the underlings rushed inside holding something rolled up. “Young Master! The buyers are asking when the next shipment of the pin-up posters will be available!”
Doflamingo tilted his head. “Pin-up posters?”
The man nodded nervously. “Yes sir! The ones where they can...” He stopped talking when the temperature in the room dropped.
Doflamingo stood up. “Repeat that.”
The underling swallowed. “Th-the bathing suit posters where people hang them on their walls...”
Doflamingo’s smile dropped. “Bathing suit,” he repeated.
You watched him carefully, that tone in his voice never meant anything good. Trebol noticed it too. “Y-young master?”
Doflamingo reached over and grabbed the poster from the man. He stared at it for a moment, before threads tore it pieces.
Trebol blinked. “Y-young master?”
Doflamingo walked to the window overlooking the city. “Cancel it.”
The underling looked horrified. “C-cancel the shipment?”
“Everything.”
Trebol gaped. “But young master! We’re making millions of beli!”
Doflamingo turned around slowly, his smile was back but now it looked dangerous. “Cancel it.” He gestured toward the merchandise. “All of it.”
The underling whispered, “What about the items already sold?”
Doflamingo’s grin widened. “Get them back.”
Trebol blinked. “All of them?”
Doflamingo chuckled. “Yes.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
He walked back over to the table and casually took the plush from your hands. Then set it behind his desk. “Because,” he said lightly, “I’ve decided I don’t like the idea of strangers collecting you.”
Trebol looked devastated. “But young master...”
Doflamingo snapped his fingers. Thin threads instantly sliced through the remaining stacks of merchandise, card scattered as plushies where torn apart. “Business venture closed,” he said
cheerfully.
You stared at him. “You lost a fortune.”
He shrugged. “Money is replaceable.” Then he glanced down at the single plush he’d kept behind his desk. “Some things aren’t.”
You snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”
He laughed. “Fufufufu.” While pulling you into his lap and kissing you.
💜🍩Katakuri:
The marketplace was loud as vendors shouted over each other, ships creaked in the harbor, and the smell of fried sweets drifted through the warm air. None of it mattered to Charlotte Katakuri, he had stopped walking and stood perfectly still in front of a small vendor stall, towering over the table like a statue.
The vendor noticed eventually. “Uh… can I help you, sir?” Katakuri didn’t answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on the wall behind the stall. A poster, and on the poster was you. You were smiling brightly, surrounded by an absurd number of donuts. Powdered ones, chocolate ones, strawberry ones, stacked around you like some sort of sugary throne. A few were even floating in the air around your hands like you’d tossed them up mid-laugh.
Two of Katakuri’s favorite things in the world.
Donuts.
And you.
The vendor shifted awkwardly under the silent stare. “Popular one, that poster,” he said. “Been selling like crazy.”
Katakuri finally spoke. “I will buy them.”
“Great!” The vendor said quickly. “Let me get one wrapped up.”
Katakuri’s gaze shifted to the small stack beside the table. “All of them.”
The vendor blinked. “All…?”
“All.” Moments later, Katakuri walked away from the stall carrying an entire bundle of posters tucked under one arm.
Later that evening, you returned home. You pushed open the door, stretching slightly. “Katakuri? I’m back...” Your sentence died as you saw what was handing on the wall difectly across from the entrance. It was a massive framed poster of you surrounded by dounts. “Katakuri.”
From the kitchen doorway, the towering figure of Charlotte Katakuri looked up from a donut he a eatting like nothing was unusual. “Yes.”
You slowly pointed. “Why is there a giant poster of me in our living room?”
Katakuri followed your gaze toward the wall, “It is well composed.”
You blinked, “That’s not what I asked.”
Katakuri calmly took another bite of a donut. “I found it at the market.”
“And you bought it?”
“Yes.”
Your eyes narrowed slightly. “How many were there?”
“Several.”
“Katakuri.”
“All of them.”
You stared at him, then at the poster, and then back at him. “You bought all of them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?!”
Katakuri seemed mildly confused by the question. “It features you.” You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. “And donuts.” He gestured toward the poster with quiet approval. “They are drawn accurately.”
You rubbed your face with your hands. “I cannot believe this is my life.”
Katakuri watched you for a moment, then his gaze shifted back to the poster again. “The arrangement is interesting.”
You sighed. “It’s literally just me sitting in donuts.”
“Yes.” Another pause. “We could recreate it.”
You froze, slowly lowering your hands. “What?”
Katakuri gestured to dounts stacked on the kitchen table. “I had enough made.”
Your jaw dropped. “You were planning this?” You stared at the mountain of donuts, then the poster, then the very serious man who could see the future and command entire fleets. And who was currently determined to recreate a ridiculous donut pin-up photo of you. You sighed dramatically. “Fine.”
Katakuri immediately perked up. Within minutes he was arranging donuts around the room with intense focus. “No, not like that,” he murmured, moving one slightly. “The angle is incorrect.”
You couldn’t help laughing. “Katakuri, they’re donuts!”
“They must match the poster.”
“You memorized it?!”
“Yes.” Of course he did. Eventually he stepped back, observing his work, then he looked at you.
“Sit.” You sat in the middle of the donut pile, barely containing your laughter. Katakuri studied the scene as he adjusted one more donut. “Perfect.”
You smiled up at him. “You know you’re ridiculous, right?”
Katakuri looked at the poster, then quietly sat down beside you, offering another donut. “Perhaps, darling.” But the softness in his eyes said he didn’t mind at all.
🩵🐦🔥Marco:
The festival on the island was lively, music drifted through the streets, lanterns glowed in warm colors, and merchants lined the square selling everything from trinkets to food. You, however, were trapped at a picnic table, not that you minded too much, but the line in front of you was ridiculous. “Could you sign this too?” someone asked excitedly.
You took the small glossy card and laughed softly. “Another one?”
“Please!” You signed it with a flourish before handing it back. The card had a picture of you smiling toward the camera, hair blowing slightly in the wind. Apparently you had photo cards now. Standing a few steps away, leaning casually against a wooden post, was Marco. The first division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates watched the line with mild confusion.
He tilted his head slightly. “I don’t get it, yoi.”
Another person rushed up to you. “Can you sign mine too?!”
You smiled. “Of course.”
Marco crossed his arms. “They’ve got a whole line for little pictures of you.”
One of the crew members nearby laughed. “Those are collectibles.”
Marco blinked slowly. “Collectibles?”
“Yeah.”
Marco watched another fan walk away happily clutching a signed card. “Huh.” He shrugged. “Still weird, yoi.”
Later that evening the festival had calmed down. You had finally escaped the table and were wandering the stalls with Marco beside you. Marco lazily glanced over things as you walked.
Then he stopped. “…Huh.”
You looked back. “What?”
Marco was staring at a vendor table. Spread across it were dozens of small glossy cards. Photo cards and there were several of you and a couple of of Marco. But there was one where he had his arm loosely around your shoulders. Marco stared and the vendor perked up. “Ah! Interested?”
Marco pointed at one. “What’s this one?”
“Oh that’s a rare one!” the vendor said proudly. “Couple photo. People love those.”
You leaned over to look. “Wait.”
Your face turned red. “That was taken when we were eating breakfast at that cafe a couple of island back!”
Marco picked up the card, studying it carefully. You were mid-laugh and he was looking at you with gaze of a man in love and a smile that only you borught out of him. Marco turned the card slightly in the light. “Huh.”
You crossed your arms. “You said they were weird.”
“They are.” He flipped the card over. “But this one’s good.”
“Marco.”
He ignored you and looked at the vendor. “I’ll take that one.”
The vendor grinned. “Great choice! That’s one is the newest hit. ”
Marco’s eyes drifted across the table again, he spotted another card. This one was just you. You were leaning against the ship railing with the ocean behind you. Marco quietly picked that one up too. “And this.”
You stared at him. “You’re buying my photo card?”
Marco shrugged. “Figured I should see what the hype’s about, yoi.”
“You literally watched me sign fifty of them earlier!”
“Yeah.” He slid some berries onto the table. Then casually tucked the cards into his coat pocket.
You smiled. “You’re keeping those, aren’t you?”
Marco gave you that relaxed sideways smile. “Maybe.”
You leaned closer. “You’re such a hypocrite.”
Marco chuckled softly. “When it comes to you I’m okay with that, doll.” He pulled the card of you back out for a moment, glancing at it again. “It’s a good picture, yoi.”
You watched him carefully slide it back into his pocket carefully, “You know I could just give you one.”
Marco shrugged again. “Where’s the fun in that?” Then he casually draped an arm over your shoulders and started walking again. “Besides.” He tapped his pocket lightly. “This one’s mine, yoi.”
🤍💨Smoker:
The office inside the Marine base in Loguetown was quiet except for the sound of papers being shuffled. Smoke drifted lazily through the air as Smoker leaned back in his chair, a pair of cigars clenched between his teeth while he read through a report. Across the desk, Tashigi was organizing a stack of documents.
She paused. “Captain?”
Smoker grunted. “What.”
Tashigi leaned closer. “What’s that?”
He didn’t look up. “What’s what.” She pointed to his coat. Right above the inside pocket of his Marine jacket, was a small metal pin. It was simple, just a little design of you, smiling, stylized like a small collectible badge.
Smoker glanced down at it briefly, “A pin.”
“Yes,” Tashigi said patiently. “I can see that.”
She squinted. “Why do you have it?”
Smoker flipped another page in the report. “Found it.”
“Where?”
“On the ground.”
Tashigi stared. “You pinned it to your coat.”
“So.”
“You never pin things to your coat.”
He exhaled smoke slowly. “It was there.”
Tashigi leaned closer again. “Is that supposed to be...”
The office door opened before she could finish and you stepped inside. “Hey, Smoker.” He looked up immediately. And the first thing you noticed, was the pin. Your eyes widened slightly. “Is that me?”
Smoker froze. Tashigi turned slowly toward him with the biggest I KNEW IT look imaginable. Smoker cleared his throat. “It’s just a pin.”
You walked over and examined it; it was definitely you. Someone had turned your likeness into a small collectible badge. You looked back at him. “Where did you get it?”
He avoided eye contact. “Confiscated.”
Tashigi blinked. “You said you found it on the ground.”
“Evidence found on the ground.”
You smiled a little. “So, you’re just carrying evidence around.”
Smoker grunted. “It’s harmless.”
You reached out and tapped the pin lightly. “You’ve got it pinned right over your pocket.”
“…And?”
“That’s where people keep things they don’t want to lose.”
For a moment he didn’t respond, as he leaned back in his chair again, trying to look completely unbothered. “Don’t read into it.”
Tashigi folded her arms. “Oh, we’re absolutely reading into it.”
Smoker ignored her and you just laughed softly. “Alright, Captain.”
You leaned down slightly. “Just don’t lose it.”
Smoker watched you for a second, then he adjusted his coat so the pin sat straight. “Wasn’t planning to.”
Summary: When your One Piece boyfriend finds merch of you things get interesting.
Masterlist / Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
❤️🔥Portgas D. Ace:
Ace didn’t usually pay attention to the junk merchants sold at pirate ports. Half the time it was fake maps, fake Devil Fruits, or cheap trinkets meant to trick drunk pirates. Still, the stall caught his eye when he heard the words, “Pirate merch! Famous pirates! Collect ‘em while they’re hot!”
Ace stopped in front of the stand, arms crossed gazing down at the items. The merchant had a table covered in random stuff: tiny plush dolls, printed cards, keychains and badly drawn posters. Most of them were pirates Ace vaguely recognized. The merchant turned towards him immediately. “Interested, buddy? Got all sorts! Marines, pirates, bounty legends!”
Ace shrugged. “Not really.”
He was about to walk away when the merchant picked up a plush. “Ah! But this one’s been popular lately!” Ace glanced at it and froze. The plush had your hair, your outfit, your little stitched smile and even the tiny accessories you usually wore. It was unmistakable. A chibi plush of you.
Ace stared. The merchant kept talking, completely unaware. “Cute, right? People love this one! Apparently they’re close to that fire guy—”
Ace slowly picked it up and his brain completely stalled. It was soft and small enough to sit in his palm. The tiny stitched eyes looked suspiciously like yours. The merchant grinned. “Good craftsmanship, huh?” Ace didn’t answer. He just kept staring at it. The merchant leaned closer. “So? You buying?”
Ace blinked. Then quickly placed a berries on the stand. “Yeah.”
“Great choice! You want the limited version too? Comes with a little hat!”
Ace grabbed the plush and shoved it into his bag immediately. “No.” He turned and walked away. Very fast.
The merchant blinked. “…Huh.”
The plush stayed in Ace’s bag for about five minutes. He lasted until he reached the end of the dock before stopping. Ace glanced around the busy port. Pirates arguing. Merchants shouting. Marines nowhere in sight.
Good.
He reached into his bag and pulled it out. The tiny plush stared back at him. It really was you. Your hair stitched in soft thread. Your usual outfit simplified into tiny fabric pieces. Even the little accessory you always wore was there, sewn carefully. Ace turned it over in his hands. “…Huh.” It was soft, really soft. Ace rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess it’s kinda cute.”
He shoved it back into his bag. Then immediately pulled it back out again. “…Don’t tell anyone about this, alright?” The plush, unsurprisingly, did not answer. Ace sighed. “Yeah. Thought so.”
A few days later the plush had migrated. It started in his bag and then it ended up tied loosely to the inside of his pack so it wouldn’t fall out. Then somehow it started sitting next to his hat when he slept. One night he even caught himself tapping it lightly before heading out for a fight. “Watch the ship.” Ace paused, then frowned. “…Why did I say that?”
The real problem happened later, when you visited. Ace had been digging through his bag for something when he heard your voice from the doorway. “Hey, Ace!” He turned quickly, too quickly, and his bag tipped over. And something soft fell out.
Right at your feet.
You bent down and picked it up and Ace froze. Your fingers brushed the fabric as you lifted the tiny plush. You stared at it, then turned it slowly in your hands. “Ace?”
He immediately rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
You held it up. “A plush of me?”
Ace’s brain tried to find a reasonable explanation. It found none. “…I panicked.”
You stared at him. “At a merchant stand?”
“Yeah.”
Then you tilted your head slightly. “You know something?”
Ace looked at you curiously. “What?”
You turned and reached into your own bag, when your hand came back out, you were holding a plush. It had messy black hair, freckles, a tiny hat, and a little bead necklace. You held up the tiny plush of him. “…I might have done the same thing.”
For a moment neither of you spoke. Then Ace burst out laughing. “Alright, okay, that’s fair.”
You looked down at both plushies. Then gently bumped them together. “Guess they’re dating too.”
Ace snorted. “Yeah.” He reached out and took the little Ace plush from you, examining it closely. “…Why’s my hair like that?”
You grinned. “That’s the chibi style.”
Ace shook his head, still laughing. “Well… guess we’re even.” Then he paused, looked at the two plushies again. “…We’re not telling anyone about this.” Because if the crew ever found out, neither of you would hear the end of it.
♥️⚙️Eustass Kid:
The alley near the port was crowded. Kid had been walking through, checking out the usual chaos, normally you would be with him stopping at the stall and looking at everything. But right now you and Killer were other the other side of the island looking for material for a project you were working on. He would have gone with, but this little venture required diving under the water and Kid wouldn’t have been much help. So now he was killing sometime while he waited for you to return.
Looking around, he noticed a small crowd of people gathered around a stall and they were all staring at one thing. It was a poster, but not just any poster, no this one special. It was you, posing dramatically, glossy, smiling in that way that made people stop and stare. Kid’s eyes narrowed instantly. “…What the hell is this?” he muttered, pushing through the crowd. The guys froze as he stepped up, chest puffed out, hand twitching near his gauntlet. “This is my partner,” he growled.
One of the drooling fools stammered, “W-wait, he’s...he’s with them?!”
Kid didn’t answer. He grabbed the poster with one hand and ripped it from the stall. The merchant protested, but Kid didn’t care. “This is mine. Got it?” The guys immediately scattered. Kid turned to look at the poster, holding it carefully. “Hmph. Yeah. Looks good enough.” He walked back to his ship, holding it like a trophy.
Once inside his workshop, he found the perfect spot. A corner wall, visible from every angle in the room. He hung the poster up, making sure it was straight. It wasn’t about decoration, not really. He liked the thought of being able to look and see you whenever he was working. You couldn’t always be there to keep him company, but the poster could.
Kid stepped back, arms crossed. The poster gleamed under the dim workshop lights. “Looks good.”
Due to its location it was only a matter of time before the rest of the crew would catch a glimpse of it. Heat and Wire were the first two to stop by a witness Kid’s new decoration.
“That’s Y/N,” Heat muttered looking over at Wire
Kid didn’t even glance up. “Yes. Do not touch the poster.”
“Uh… we weren’t...”
“Don’t care,” Kid snapped. “Do not breathe near it.” The word on Kid’s new decor in the workshop and crew wisely kept their distance and eyes away from the poster of you.
You and Killer had made it back before nightfall, still slightly damp from the swim but you had your material you needed for your project.
“Yo! (Y/N) you have to check out what Kid got his workshop.” Heat called out smiling mischievously. You glanced at Killer and shrugged, probably some new weapon or a prank by Heat. Either way that was most likely where your boyfriend was at.
You step into the workshop and immediately spot the poster. You tilt your head looking at it. “Kid?”
He’s leaning against the workbench, arms crossed, with a smug grin on his face. “Yeah?”
You point slowly. “Is that… me?”
He glances at it, eyes narrowing fidgeting just bit. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
You smirk. “Not at all. Actually, I kind of like it, I look good.”
Kid grumbles, looking away. “It’s just to have you here when you aren’t.”
You laugh softly. “That’s very sweet of you.”
Kid huffs, chest puffing out. “Well since you are here now, what to work on your project with me?”
“I would love to.” The poster stays on the wall, looking over his workshop and him.
💚🗡️Dracule Mihawk:
The package arrived with the morning delivery, which was already suspicious Dracule Mihawk rarely received mail at Kuraigana Island and fewer people even knew how to send it.
The box sat on the table, wrapped poorly. The handwriting on the tag was unmistakable.
Shanks.
Mihawk sighed. “…Troublesome.” He opened it anyway. Inside was a rolled tube. Mihawk stared at it for a moment before pulling it out, unrolling it across the table. And then, he stopped. It was a poster, a large one. It was glossy, colorful, and it was you. Leaning casually against a railing outfit slightly dramatic in that exaggerated “pin-up” pose artists loved. At the bottom in bold lettering was your name and bounty.
Mihawk stared at it. Then his eyes moved slowly to the small folded note that fell out of the tube. He opened it. The message read: Thought you might appreciate the view while they’re away. — Shanks
There was a very long pause and the Mihawk crumpled up the note. “That idiot.” He carefully rolled the poster back up put it back in the tube. The logical solution would be to throw it away. Mihawk was not a man who decorated his castle with pin-up posters. Even if it was of his own partner.
Three hours later he walked back into the room and the tube was still there. Mihawk stared at it. “…Hmph.” He unrolled it again looking at you, just briefly. The artwork was surprisingly well done, the lighting, the detail, the resemblance to his beloved partner. It was annoyingly accurate. Mihawk folded his arms. “…Ridiculous.” He rolled it back up again, taking it with him.
Later that evening, Perona wandered into his personal room since the door had been left open, and she stopped, her eyes widened taking in the previously blank wall. “Wait is that...” Pinned neatly beside the bookshelf, was the poster.
Perona slowly turned toward Mihawk. “Is that a pin-up poster?”
Mihawk sat calmly in his chair, sipping wine. “Yes.”
“…Of your partner.”
“Yes.”
Perona blinked. “Did you put it there?”
Mihawk took another sip. “It arrived.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Perona stared at him, then at the poster, and then back at him. “You kept it.”
Mihawk closed his eyes slightly. “Throwing it away would have been a waste.”
Perona snorted. “Oh my god.”
The real problem comes later, when you return. You walk into your guys room and immediately stopped. Because there is a pin-up poster of you on the wall. You stare at it, then slowly turn toward Mihawk. “Mihawk.”
“Yes.”
You point at the wall. “Why am I a poster.”
Mihawk pauses. “It was a gift.”
You narrow your eyes. “From who?”
He sighs. “Shanks.” You immediately laugh which only makes Mihawk more annoyed.
You walk closer to inspect it. “It’s actually pretty flattering.”
Mihawk mutters under his breath. “I noticed.”
“You think Shanks could get his hands on one of you, I would love to have one.” There is a very quiet pause.
“…No.”
You glance over your shoulder. “No?”
“No,” Mihawk repeats, setting the glass down with deliberate calm. “Absolutely not.”
You grin. “Why not? It’s only fair. You get one of me.”
“That poster was not requested,” he says flatly. “Nor will another be.”
You tilt your head. “You’re embarrassed.”
“I am not.”
“You are,” you say, delighted now. “Imagine it. You leaning against Yoru, shirtless...”
“That will not happen.”
“You’d look good,” you continue thoughtfully, studying him as if planning it already. “Very mysterious. Brooding. Probably sell a lot.”
Mihawk’s eye twitches slightly. “Shanks would definitely buy one,” you add.
“That alone is reason enough to prevent it.”
You laugh, still looking at the poster. “Come on, we could match.” Mihawk’s tall shadow falling over you as he walks past toward the wall. For a moment you think he might take the poster down. Instead, he adjusts one corner where the corner isn’t perfectly straight.
“One of these is already excessive,” he says coolly. Then he glances at you. “And I have no intention of competing with it.”
💙🔪Sanji:
The marketplace was loud. Vendors shouting. Pirates arguing. Someone trying to sell a suspiciously glowing fruit two stalls down. Sanji had originally stopped to look for fresh ingredients. Spices, herbs, maybe decent fish if he got lucky. Instead, he stopped in front of a completely different stall. “Pirate collectibles! Cards! Posters! Limited editions!”
Sanji normally ignored things like that. He had better things to spend money on. Like ingredients. Or gifts for the ladies on the ship. But something on the table caught his eye. The merchant noticed immediately. “Ah! Excellent taste, sir!”
Sanji leaned closer. On the table were small glossy cards arranged in rows.
Pirates.
Marines.
Famous bounty hunters.
But that wasn’t what he was looking at. Because right in the center, was you. Sanji froze. The card showed you leaning against a railing, smiling slightly. The lighting made it look strangely dramatic. Sanji slowly picked it up. “…That’s Y/N.”
The merchant grinned. “Oh! A fan!”
Sanji straightened immediately. “I am not just a fan.”
The merchant nodded knowingly. “Of course not.” Sanji flipped the card over. The back had information: name, bounty and a small decorative symbol in the corner. The merchant leaned forward conspiratorially. “That one’s from the Standard Set.”
Sanji narrowed his eyes. “…Standard set?”
“Oh yes! There are several.” The merchant started laying them out proudly. “Battle pose version! Festival outfit! Smiling version! Rare holographic!” Sanji stared, his brain was rapidly processing this information.
Cards.
Of you.
Multiple versions.
Collectible.
Limited.
The merchant held up a small pack. “Random pulls.”
Sanji immediately slammed money onto the table. “I’ll take five.” Five became ten. Ten became twenty. By the time Sanji left the stall, he had a small bag full of card packs and the determined expression of a man on a mission.
Back on the ship, Sanji sat alone in the kitchen. A neat stack of unopened packs sat on the table. He cracked his knuckles. “Alright.”
First pack, he opened it carefully. Card one, duplicate. Sanji squinted. Card two, another duplicate. Sanji lit a cigarette. “Stay calm.” Card three, new one. Sanji leaned closer. “Festival Y/N.” His eyes sparkled. “Beautiful.”
By the next day, Sanji had purchased: protective card sleeves, plastic binder pages and an entire collector binder Because obviously these cards needed proper storage. The binder was meticulously organized. Sections labeled in careful handwriting. Sanji opened the page and admired it like museum artwork. “Magnificent.”
Unfortunately for him, he made one fatal mistake, he left the binder on the kitchen counter. You had only come looking for a snack, but the kitchen was empty. But something on the counter caught your eye, a binder. Curious, you opened it. The first page made you blink, it was a photo card, of you. You turned the page and found another and then another and another. You blinked again. “…What?”
Just then the kitchen door opened and Sanji walked in. He stopped imediately see you looking throught the binder. There was a very long silence. You slowly lifted a holographic card. “…Sanji.”
Sanji lit a cigarette with shaking hands. “I can explain.”
You flipped another page. “You organized them.”
Sanji straightened, suddenly defensive. “Of course I organized them!”
You raised an eyebrow. “There’s a rarity section.”
“Some of them are extremely rare!” You stared at him, and then at the binder, and then back at him. “You have over thrithy cards.”
Sanji hesitated. “Forty-two.” Sanji sighed dramatically. “Listen, my love, do you have any idea how difficult it is to pull the festival version?!”
You reached into your pocket and pulled something out. And set it on the table. Sanji blinked, tt was a card. He picked it up slowly and his own face stared back at him. A photo card of him cooking. You shrugged. “They had yours too.”
He looked at the card and then slowly walked to a drawer. He opened it, reached inside and pulled out another binder. Sanji cleared his throat. “I have more of me from the extra cards I pulled.” You light up and grab the binder from him giving him a kiss.
💚⚔️Roronoa Zoro:
The sun beat down on the small port town. The air smelled of salt, smoke, and something fried, Sanji would have loved it, but Zoro was too busy scanning the stalls. He wasn’t here for souvenirs. He wasn’t here for trinkets. He wasn’t here for nonsense.
A merchant waved a small wooden sign, “Good Luck Charms for Strong Swordsmen!”
Zoro stopped, well that could be useful. The stall was cluttered, full of small carved figures, trinkets, and charms. Most looked cheap, poorly made. But one caught his eye. A tiny, intricately carved figure of someone, your likeness unmistakable. A sword in one hand, a tiny embroidered cloak, your smile bright.
The merchant noticed him staring. “Ah! Excellent choice, sir! This one’s particularly strong! Brings courage and skill to its owner.”
Zoro squinted at him. “It’s a charm?”
“Yes! For swordsmen! Keeps you sharp, focused, unbeatable!”
He reached for it, turning it over in his hand. The craftsmanship was surprisingly good. “Fine.” He handed over a handful of berries.
The merchant grinned. “Ah, a wise choice! It will serve you well!” Zoro tucked it into his pack, thinking little of it. It was a good luck charm, that was all, nothing else. Being of you was just an added bonus.
Back on the ship, Zoro climbed to the crow’s nest to train. Every so often, his fingers brushed the charm tucked safely in his pocket. At first, he ignored it. Training was all that mattered. But slowly, the charm became part of his ritual. He set it in the corner of the crow’s nest, right beside him, as he practiced. It didn’t speak and it didn’t move. Yet for some reason, it felt reassuring. “Good luck,” he muttered quietly under his breath. “That’s all.”
Later, Sanji showed up the crows nest bring him something to eat.,. “…Zoro,” he said slowly, squinting at the charm in the corner “Is that a charm of (Y/N)?”
Zoro didn’t even look at him. “Yes. Good luck.”
Sanji tilted his head. “And you have it because?”
Zoro ignored him. “It helps me focus. That’s all.” Sanji raised an eyebrow but wisely let it go.
When you finally returned to the ship days later, your first stop was to visit your boyfriend who was working out in the crow’s nest. It was always an enjoyable sight to see. Quickly climbing up you take in the space, noticing something new. There it was, perched carefully in the corner of the crow’s nest, a tiny charm of you, carved and polished, catching the sunlight.
“Zoro,” you said softly.
He glanced briefly, sword in hand, still practicing. “Good luck,” he said again, without looking.
You tilted your head. “Aww that is too sweet.” Zoro didn’t answer. But every precise swing, every careful leap, betrayed the faintest smile that only you could ever notice.
Summary: After being captured by humans, you find yourself trapped in a laboratory tank with a merman named Katakuri. It isn't a good situation but at least you aren't alone.
A/N: Wattpad Request: Can you do one with Katakuri where he's a merman and the reader is a mermaid and was captured by researchers and put into the same tank as him. And the researchers are trying to force them to mate and breed but Katakuri is like no.
Masterlist
Cold.
That was the first thing you noticed.
The water surrounding you wasn’t the warm, open ocean you knew, it was sterile, chilled, and carried the sharp sting of chemicals. Your tail thrashed weakly as the metal cage that held you was lowered deeper into the enormous glass tank. Above the surface, blurred figures in white coats moved around, their voices muffled through the thick water.
“Specimen transfer successful.”
“Subject B is already in the enclosure.”
“Begin observation once the cage opens.”
Your heart pounded. Subject B?
The cage door suddenly slid open with a harsh metallic clank. Instinctively, you darted out, your tail propelling you through the unfamiliar water. You didn’t get far before freezing. Something, well someone, was already in the tank. At the far end, partially hidden in the dim blue lighting, was a massive figure.
A merman.
He was enormous, his presence filled the water even from the far end of the tank. Broad shoulders, a muscular torso and a long, strong tail that pulsed lazily, each movement controlled and deliberate. Pink tattoos covered his arms and chest. Small dorsal fins traced along his forearms and the length of his tail, giving him an almost predator like elegance as he hovered near the bottom of the tank.
His mouth was wide, with the sharp, pointed teeth that always seemed to peek out even when he wasn’t speaking. It gave him a permanent, slightly deep-sea predator grin, the kind that could unsettle anyone. His tail scales reflected in the harsh light, and he moved with a certain energy you couldn’t place.
Your breath caught when his eyes opened. His crimson eyes were sharp and focused on you. Panic surged through your chest. You quickly backed away, your tail brushing against the curved glass wall behind you. There was nowhere to go; he tank was huge, but it was still a cage.
Above the surface, the researchers leaned closer to the glass. “Initial visual contact.”
“Fascinating size difference.”
“They should acclimate quickly.”
Your gaze flicked upward, confusion twisting into fear. They?
Slowly, the merman began to move. Each motion of his tail sent him gliding effortlessly through the water toward you. Instinct screamed at you to flee, but there was nowhere left to retreat.
He stopped a short distance away. Up close, his presence was overwhelming. Scars marked his arms and torso, silent evidence of battles fought long before either of you had been dragged here. Despite his size, however, he made no aggressive move. He simply studied you.
Then his gaze shifted upward toward the researchers watching from above the tank. For a brief moment, the calm expression on his face hardened into something dangerous.
The humans weren’t observing a first meeting; they were observing an experiment they had planned. And when his eyes returned to you, something in them had changed. The large merman positioned himself between you and the glass observation window, his broad frame blocking the researchers’ view of you.
His voice, when he finally spoke, was deep and rough from disuse. “Don’t be afraid.”
You stared at him in shock. “My name,” he said calmly, “is Katakuri.”
For a long moment after he spoke, neither of you moved. You hovered near the glass wall, still tense, your tail coiled slightly beneath you as if ready to bolt at any second. The enormous merman, Katakuri, remained where he was, keeping his distance but still blocking you from view.
Above the waterline, the researchers slowly drifted away from the observation window, their muffled voices fading as they moved to another part of the room. Only the soft hum of machines and filtration pumps remained.
Katakuri noticed your eyes darting around the tank. “Looking for a way out?” he asked quietly. You hesitated, then nodded. His gaze lifted toward the ceiling where faint lights shone through the surface of the water. “There isn’t one,” he said simply.
Your shoulders slumped. The reality of it crashed over you all at once. The thick glass walls. The artificial lighting. The endless humming of machines. No current. No open water.
A prision.
Your tail slowly curled around you as you sank a little lower in the water. “How long?” you asked softly.
Katakuri was quiet for a moment. “Long enough,” he finally replied. Your eyes flicked back to him. Despite the calm way he spoke, the scars across his body suddenly made more sense. None of them looked fresh, but they hadn’t come from peaceful waters.
“They captured you too?” you asked.
Katakuri nodded once. “Dragged me up in nets,” he said. “Ships. Metal hooks. Sedatives.” Your stomach twisted at the thought, you had only been tricked into a cage.. “I fought them,” he added. “It didn’t matter.”
For a while, neither of you spoke again. You hugged your arms around yourself, your gaze dropping toward the bottom of the tank. Panic and exhaustion were slowly catching up with you. Katakuri noticed and with slow, deliberate movements, he swam a little closer. Close enough that you didn’t have to raise your voice to speak, but far enough that you wouldn’t feel cornered.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said. You studied him carefully now. Despite his massive size, his posture was relaxed. His tail moved slowly to keep him suspended in the water, and his hands remained open at his sides.
After a few seconds, you cautiously swam forward, closer to him. Katakuri noticed the small show of trust but didn’t comment on it. “Why would they put us together?” you asked quietly.
Katakuri’s eyes flicked briefly toward the observation window again, then back to you. “I’ve been wondering that myself.” Something about the way he said it made unease settle in your chest.
The researchers hadn’t placed you in here by accident. They had watched him for months, studied him, measured and tested him. And now suddenly now you were here. Your tail shifted nervously in the water.
Katakuri noticed the movement. “They won’t harm you while I’m here,” he said.
You looked up at him, “You don’t know that.”
His gaze hardened slightly. “Yes,” he said calmly. “I do.” The certainty in his voice made you pause. For the first time since you’d been stolen from the ocean, your panic eased just a little.
You drifted a bit closer again, curiosity slowly pushing past your fear. “Have you tried breaking the glass?” you asked.
Katakuri actually let out the faintest hint of a breath that might have been amusement. “Many times.”
Your eyes widened. “And?”
He slowly raised one hand and tapped the thick glass wall beside him with a single knuckle. The sound that echoed through the water was dull and heavy. “Reinforced,” he said.
Your shoulders sank again. “Oh.”
Then Katakuri spoke again. “What is your name?” You hesitated, but something about the calm way he asked made it difficult to refuse, so you told him. Katakuri repeated it once under his breath, as if committing it to memory. “You’re safe with me,” he said.
And for the first time since the cage door had opened, you believed him.
Neither of you noticed the researchers returning to the observation window above.
Watching.
Taking notes.
Recording every movement between the two captured merfolk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks passed. Time inside the tank didn’t move the way it did in the ocean. There were no tides, no shifting currents, no sunrise or sunset, only the bright artificial lights that flicked on and off according to whatever schedule the humans had decided. But you had learned to measure time in other ways: feeding times, observation periods, and the quiet hours when the researchers finally left the room.
Those were your favorite. The tank felt less like a prison during those moments.
You drifted lazily near the middle of the enclosure, watching small silver fish dart through the water between the artificial coral structures scattered along the bottom. The humans released them occasionally as enrichment, though most of the time they didn’t last long.
A blur of movement shot past you. One of the fish zigzagged away in panic. You gasped as a large hand suddenly appeared beside your shoulder and closed around empty water. “Hey!” you laughed.
A few feet away, Katakuri straightened slowly, looking mildly unimpressed with himself. “That one moved unexpectedly,” he said flatly.
You covered your mouth, trying to hide your grin. “You missed.” Katakuri gave you a long look. The corner of your tail flicked with amusement as the fish swam safely away.
Over the past weeks, the fear that once knotted your chest whenever he moved had faded. Now you found yourself drifting closer without thinking about it, much closer than you had the first day.
“You’re getting slow,” you teased.
Katakuri raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” Before you could respond, he suddenly lunged again, but this time not toward the fish, toward you. You shrieked as his hand closed gently around your wrist before you could dart away. The sudden movement sent a swirl of bubbles around both of you.
“Katakuri!”
“You said I was slow.”
You struggled half-heartedly, laughing as you tried to pull free. “That’s not fair!”
“It proves a point.”
“You cheated!” The deep rumble of something suspiciously close to a laugh escaped him as he released your wrist. You quickly swam out of reach, shooting him an exaggerated glare. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just floated there, the water quiet around you. It felt normal like you were back out in the wide-open ocean.
Your gaze drifted upward toward the observation deck. “They’ve been watching more lately,” you murmured.
Katakuri followed your gaze. The dark glass window above the tank was empty for now, but both of you knew that didn’t mean much. “They always watch,” he replied.
“Yes, but...” Your words cut off as a sharp click echoed through the room. The overhead lights brightened slightly and a moment later, voices crackled through the intercom system mounted along the walls above the tank.
You frowned, instinctively glancing upward. The researchers rarely spoke over the speakers while you were inside. “Begin behavioral log,” a voice said.
Another answered. “Week six of shared containment. Interaction levels remain high.” Your stomach tightened slightly and Katakuri had gone still beside you. “They’ve formed a stable bond,” the second voice continued matter-of-factly. “Aggression levels between subjects remain at zero.”
There was the faint sound of papers shuffling, then the first researcher spoke again. “Good. That increases the probability of successful breeding.”
Your entire body froze, for a moment you thought you’d misheard. “Breeding trial preparations can begin soon,” another voice added. “Hormone introduction may accelerate the process if necessary.” The words echoed through the tank like poison in the water, your breath caught.
Slowly, very slowly, you turned toward Katakuri. His expression had changed. The calm composure he always carried was still there, but beneath it something darker had surfaced. His eyes had lifted toward the observation window. And for the first time since you had been trapped here with him Katakuri looked furious. “I see,” Katakuri said quietly. The calmness in his voice somehow made the situation feel even worse.
Your mind was still trying to process what the researchers had said. Breeding. Hormones. Trials. The words twisted together into something sickening. “They… they can’t mean” Your voice cracked.
Katakuri’s gaze shifted from the observation window down to you. “They do.”
Your stomach dropped. For a moment, the tank felt smaller than it ever had before. The glass walls suddenly seemed too close, the artificial lights too bright. Your tail curled instinctively as panic began creeping up your chest.
“They can’t make us...” you started, your voice shaking.
The intercom crackled again above you. “Continue monitoring behavioral responses,” one researcher said. Your breath hitched.
“They’re talking about us like we’re animals,” you whispered. Katakuri’s eyes slowly lifted toward the window again. High above the tank, shadows moved behind the dark glass as the researchers continued watching.
Your heart pounded harder with every second. “What if they force us?” you asked quietly. Katakuri didn’t answer right away, instead, he began swimming upward. Your eyes widened slightly as he rose through the water toward the observation deck. Each powerful movement of his tail carried him higher until he hovered just beneath the surface of the tank.
Then he stopped.
Slowly, deliberately, he looked directly at the dark glass window where the researchers were standing. Even from below, you could feel the weight of his gaze and the room beyond the glass went quiet.
And then Katakuri lifted his hand and his fist slammed into the reinforced glass with a thunderous crack. The entire tank trembled. A deep, metallic boom echoed through the water as vibrations rippled through the enclosure. Several of the small fish scattered in panic and alarms immediately began chirping somewhere above the tank.
You stared up at him in shock. The glass hadn’t shattered, but it felt like it was close the cracking. Katakuri remained there for a moment longer, his massive form hovering beneath the surface like a warning. Then he slowly turned and descended back toward you.
By the time he reached your level again, his expression had returned to that same calm composure, but his eyes were colder now. “They can try,” he said.
Your tail twitched nervously. “Katakuri…”
He stopped a short distance away, giving you space like he always did when you looked overwhelmed. “They will not force you,” he continued voice steady.
“How do you know?” you whispered looking into his eyes.
Katakuri held your gaze. “Because I won’t allow it.”
The certainty in his tone made your chest tighten. “They have weapons,” you said quietly. “And drugs. And they’ve already captured us once.”
Katakuri didn’t deny it, instead, he glanced briefly toward the reinforced walls of the tank. “I have been observing them,” he said.
Your brow furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Their routines. Their numbers. Their security systems.”
“You’ve been planning something.” Katakuri didn’t answer directly, but the faint shift of his eyes told you everything. Hope flickered in your chest for the first time since hearing the researchers’ plan. “You think we can escape?” you asked carefully.
For a moment, Katakuri studied the thick glass walls surrounding you and then he looked back at you. “Yes,” he said simply. Your heart skipped. “But not yet.”
You exhaled slowly, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside you. Your gaze lifted upward again toward the observation window. “They’re going to try something,” you murmured.
Katakuri followed your gaze. “Yes,” he said calmly. “They are.” Then his eyes shifted back to you. “But they will regret it.”
The next few days were different. You noticed it first in the water. At first it was subtle. The filtration system hummed a little louder than usual, and a faint cloudiness drifted through the tank before clearing again.
Katakuri noticed it too. “Stay near me,” he murmured one evening when the overhead lights dimmed for the night cycle.
You frowned slightly. “Why?”
Katakuri’s eyes followed the thin stream of bubbles rising from one of the intake vents along the wall. “The water smells different,” he said.
You swam closer, curiosity winning out over caution. The artificial coral structure near the bottom of the tank cast long shadows across the floor as you drifted beside him. “I don’t smell anything,” you admitted.
Katakuri’s brow lowered slightly. “You will.”
Hours passed quietly and the facility lights outside the tank had mostly gone dark, leaving only the dim blue glow inside the enclosure.You had been resting near one of the coral arches when the strange feeling started.
A warmth spread slowly through your chest. At first it felt almost pleasant, like drifting through a warm current in the open ocean and then it grew stronger. Your tail began to twitch. You shifted uncomfortably, pressing a hand against your chest as your heartbeat began to speed up. “Katakuri?”
Across the tank, he looked up immediately, something in your voice had changed. “What is it?”
“I” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I feel strange.”
He was beside you in seconds. The water stirred heavily as he stopped in front of you, his sharp gaze scanning your face. “Describe it.”
Your cheeks felt warm, too warm. “I don’t know,” you said quietly. “It’s just… hot.” Your tail flicked again, restless now.
Katakuri’s expression darkene and above the tank, a quiet voice crackled through the observation speakers. “Subject A showing physiological response.”
Another researcher answered. “Good. Hormone dispersal appears effective.” Your breath caught. Katakuri’s head snapped upward toward the observation window.
“They’re reacting faster than expected,” the first voice continued. “Continue dosage.”
Your stomach twisted. “They drugged the water,” you whispered. Katakuri’s jaw tightened. The warmth spreading through your body was growing stronger now, making it difficult to focus and your breathing had quickened without you realizing it. Your tail brushed against his his as you shifted restlessly. “I don’t like this,” you said quietly.
Katakuri immediately moved, his large hand gently but firmly caught your shoulders, steadying you in the water. “Look at me.” You forced your gaze upward to meet his. “You are reacting to chemicals,” he said firmly. “Nothing more.”
Above the tank, the researchers continued speaking. “Behavioral proximity increasing.”
“Prepare for Stage Two if necessary.”
Your hands trembled slightly. “Katakuri…”
His grip on your shoulders tightened just enough to ground you. “Listen to me,” he said quietly. You focused on his voice, the deep steady tone cutting through the haze creeping into your thoughts. “They want us to lose control.” The anger in his eyes flickered again. “I will not give them that.”
Another wave of heat passed through your body, making your tail twitch harder this time. Panic flickered across your face. “I can’t...” Katakuri moved immediately; he pulled you closer but not in the way the researchers wanted, but in a protective hold, positioning your back against his chest as his arms wrapped securely around you.
Your breathing stuttered slightly as he spoke close to your ear. “Focus on my voice,” he murmured as your fingers clenched weakly against his arm.
Above the tank, the researchers sounded excited now. “Physical contact confirmed.”
“Recording behavioral response.”
Katakuri’s eyes slowly lifted toward the observation window again. The fury there now was unmistakable. “Enjoy your observations while you can,” he muttered under his breath.
Your head rested weakly against his shoulder as another wave of heat passed through you. “Katakuri”
His grip tightened protectively. “I know,” he said quietly.
The heat spreading through your body wasn’t fading, if anything, it was getting worse. Your breathing had grown uneven as you leaned weakly against Katakuri’s chest, his arms still firmly around you to keep you steady. Every instinct in your body felt scrambled, confused by the chemicals flooding the water.
Above the tank, the researchers sounded almost giddy. “Subject responses escalating.”
“Excellent. Hormone saturation is working faster than projected.”
Another voice joined in. “Maintain observation. Do not interfere unless aggression occurs.”
Katakuri’s eyes slowly lifted toward the window again.
Aggression.
The word echoed in his mind.
Behind the glass, several researchers leaned forward, watching eagerly as if they were waiting for something entertaining to happen. Waiting for the experiment to succeed.
Your hand tightened weakly around Katakuri’s arm. “I hate them,” you whispered.
Something inside him snapped, a quiet, final decision. Katakuri carefully shifted his grip, moving you so that you were sitting securely against one of the large coral structures near the bottom of the tank. Your head swam slightly. “Stay here,” he said quietly.
Your eyes blinked up at him, unfocused. “Where are you?”
“I’ll be right back.” Before you could question him further, Katakuri pushed off the tank floor. The water churned violently as his powerful tail propelled him upward.
The researchers noticed immediately. “Subject B moving rapidly.”
Katakuri shot through the water like a torpedo, stopping just beneath the observation window again and for a brief moment, he hovered there. The scientists stared down at him from behind the thick reinforced glass. Then one again Katakuri pulled his fist back.
And struck.
The impact was deafening.
BOOM.
The entire tank shuddered violently as cracks spiderwebbed across the reinforced glass panel. Inside the control room, alarms exploded to life. “Structural integrity compromised!”
“Sedation team on standby!”
Katakuri struck again.
BOOM.
The crack widened.
Water began leaking through the fractured glass in thin streams. “Seal the containment tank!” someone shouted.
Too late.
Katakuri drew his arm back one more time and this time he didn’t hold anything back. His fist slammed into the weakened glass with terrifying force, and the panel shattered. An explosion of water blasted outward into the control room as the massive tank ruptured. Glass fragments scattered everywhere while thousands of gallons of seawater surged into the facility. Researchers screamed as the sudden flood knocked equipment off tables and sent people scrambling for higher ground.
Inside the quickly emptying tank, the violent rush of water swept through the enclosure, you barely had time to react before strong arms grabbed you. Katakuri pulled you tightly against his chest as the tank completely gave way, the massive wave carrying both of you out into the laboratory.
Red emergency lights began flashing across the room. “CONTAINMENT BREACH.”
“REPEAT! CONTAINMENT BREACH.”
Water poured down the hallways as the broken tank emptied into the facility. Katakuri wasted no time. His sharp eyes scanned the chaos for an exit as the security guards were already rushing into the room, shouting orders and rifles raised. “There! The specimens!”
Katakuri’s gaze darkened and he pulled you closer against him. “Hold on.” Before the guards could fire, Katakuri surged forward through the flooding corridor. Water sloshed around them as he moved, smashing through equipment and metal carts like they were nothing. A guard tried to block his path, but Katakuri knocked him aside with a single swing of his tail.
More alarms blared. “LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL INITIATED.”
Steel doors began slamming shut throughout the facility. Katakuri’s eyes flicked toward the closing barrier ahead. With a powerful thrust, he shot forward and smashed straight through the half-closed door before it could seal. Metal screeched and bent under the impact.
You clung weakly to him, your head spinning from the hormones and the chaos. “Katakuri…” you murmured.
“I’ve got you,” he said. Behind them, the facility had descended into full panic. Flooding corridors, shattered and ruined equipment, screaming researchers. And somewhere ahead, the distant roar of the ocean.
The facility was falling apart. Water roared through the hallways as the destroyed tank emptied into the lower levels of the base. Red emergency lights flashed across the metal walls, casting everything in violent pulses of crimson.
Katakuri surged through the flooding corridor with you held securely against him. “I can hear the ocean,” he said. Even through the alarms and shouting voices, the distant thunder of waves echoed somewhere ahead. Hope flickered weakly through the haze clouding your mind.
Behind you, heavy boots splashed through the water. “There! Stop them!”
Security guards rushed around the corner, rifles raised, but Katakuri didn’t slow. The first tranquilizer dart shot through the air and struck his shoulder.
You gasped. “Katakuri!”
He barely reacted and with one powerful swing of his arm, he grabbed a metal equipment cart and hurled it down the hallway. The guards scattered as the cart crashed into them, sending two of them sprawling into the rising water.
More darts fired.
One grazed his arm.
Another hit the wall beside his head.
“Deploy the nets!” someone shouted. From the far end of the corridor, two guards fired a weighted net launcher. The heavy mesh shot toward them. Katakuri twisted sharply, his powerful tail slamming against the floor as he changed direction. The net missed by inches and tangled in the water behind them.
But the hallway ahead was closing. A massive reinforced blast door was slowly sliding down from the ceiling. “LOCKDOWN SECTOR THREE,” the automated voice echoed.
The gap beneath the door was already shrinking. You felt Katakuri tense; then he accelerated. The water surged around him as he shot forward with explosive speed.
Ten feet.
The door lowered further.
Five feet.
Three.
You clung to him as he lunged the final distance and slammed shoulder-first into the descending barrier. The impact was brutal. The door buckled under the force as Katakuri forced his way through the narrowing gap. For a moment it seemed like the barrier might actually hold, then the metal snapped. The door tore loose from its track and crashed into the flooded hallway behind them.
Katakuri pushed forward without stopping. The roar of the ocean was louder now and the corridor widened ahead, ending in something massive. A reinforced containment gate; beyond it open water. But the gate was still sealed. Outside the thick glass barrier, dark blue ocean currents drifted past.
Freedom.
Katakuri slowed for the first time. Behind them, more guards were flooding into the corridor and this time they had something bigger. One of them raised a long weapon with crackling electrical coils along the barrel. “High-voltage containment spear ready!”
Your heart sank. Katakuri’s eyes flicked from the weapon and to the sealed ocean gate and then to you. “Hold tight,” he said quietly. You barely had time to react before he turned and charged the gate.
A guard fired and bolt of electricity ripped through the water and struck Katakuri across the back. Your scream tore from your throat, while his body jerked violently, but he didn’t stop. With a roar that echoed through the entire corridor, Katakuri slammed both fists into the reinforced ocean barrier.
Once.
The glass fractured.
Twice.
Cracks exploded across the entire surface.
Behind him, the guards shouted in panic. “Stop him!”
Katakuri struck the barrier one final time, and the barrier shattered. The ocean burst inward with unstoppable force. A massive surge of seawater exploded through the broken wall, blasting down the corridor like a tidal wave. Guards, equipment, and debris were swept away instantly.
The current grabbed both of you and for a terrifying moment you were spinning in rushing water, hen suddenly, open ocean. The pressure changed as the water felt different. The current carried you both out into the vast blue expanse beyond the ruined facility.
Katakuri’s grip tightened protectively around you as the two of you drifted further away from the collapsing base. Far behind you, the facility alarms faded into the distance, only the quiet rhythm of the ocean remained.
Katakuri finally slowed, turning slightly so he could look down at you. “We made it,” he said.
The ocean felt endless, for a long time, neither of you spoke. The powerful current that had carried you away from the shattered facility eventually weakened, leaving the two of you drifting through calmer waters. Above, sunlight filtered through the surface in gentle golden rays, so different from the harsh artificial lights of the tank.
The water here felt alive, warm and familiar. It was home. You barely noticed when Katakuri finally slowed to a stop. His arms were still wrapped around you, steady and protective, but the frantic urgency from earlier had faded. Now his hold was careful, almost cautious.
“Can you swim?” he asked quietly.
You blinked slowly, your mind still foggy. “I think so.” Very carefully, Katakuri loosened his grip and let you drift slightly away from him. Your tail moved weakly at first, testing the water. The natural current felt strange after weeks inside the artificial tank, but the movement gradually became easier.
Katakuri stayed close.
Your head still felt warm, but the dizzy haze from earlier was slowly fading. “The chemicals” you murmured.
“They’re leaving your system,” Katakuri said.
You nodded faintly. The two of you drifted in silence again watching schools of small fish passed through the water nearby, weaving curiously around you before darting away again. Far in the distance, the faint outline of coral reefs stretched across the ocean floor.
You slowly turned in the water, looking back the way you had come. The research facility was nowhere in sight anymore.
“They won’t follow us,” Katakuri said.
Your eyes flicked back to him. “You’re sure?”
His gaze lifted briefly toward the distant horizon. “That place is in ruins now.”
You huffed a quiet breath that might have been a laugh. “Good.”
For the first time since the escape, Katakuri’s posture relaxed slightly. The tension that had held his shoulders rigid for weeks seemed to ease.
You studied him for a moment. Even in the open ocean, he looked intimidating, massive, scarred, powerful. But now that you knew him, those things didn’t feel frightening anymore. They felt safe. “Thank you,” you said softly.
Katakuri blinked. “For what?”
You gestured vaguely toward the empty ocean around you. “For not letting them turn us into their experiment.” For protecting me. You didn’t say the last part out loud, but he seemed to understand it anyway.
Katakuri looked away slightly, his expression thoughtful. “I told you,” he said. “I wouldn’t allow it.” You smiled at him
After a while, you realized something. “So,” you said slowly. Katakuri glanced at you. “We escaped.”
“Yes.”
“We’re free.”
“Yes.”
Your tail flicked lightly in the water as another thought occurred to you. “Now what?”
For a moment, Katakuri didn’t answer; the vast ocean stretched in every direction around you. Then he looked back at you. “That depends,” he said.
“On what?”
His gaze held yours steadily. “Where you want to go.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The reef was quiet. Sunlight filtered down through the water in shimmering beams, illuminating the soft coral and waving seaweed. Tiny fish darted between the coral, curious but unafraid. You hovered near a smooth coral ledge, resting after the long swim. Your tail flicked lazily in the gentle current. Beside you, Katakuri stayed close, his massive frame a comforting presence in the warm, open water.
“You’re quiet,” he said softly, his deep voice cutting through the faint hum of the ocean.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your fingers brushing against the cool surface of the coral. “I never thought I’d get out of there. Not… not like this.”
Katakuri tilted his head slightly, studying you. His sharp eyes softened in the sunlight. “You survived,” he said simply. “And you’re safe.”
You let out a small, shaky breath, letting the tension of the last weeks drain from your shoulders. “Thanks to you,” you whispered.
He said nothing at first. His hand moved slightly, brushing against yours. You looked up at him, and for the first time, the full weight of everything you had been through together seemed to sink in. Katakuri’s gaze held yours unwavering.
“I...” you began, but words failed you.
He closed the distance. Your breath caught in your chest as the massive merman leaned closer. “You don’t have to say it,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear it. “I understand.”
Before you could respond, his lips met yours. The kiss was gentle, deliberate, and entirely his own, a quiet promise. You felt the warmth of him in the cool ocean water, the solidity of his body beside yours, the unspoken truth that he would protect you, always. When he finally pulled back, just slightly, his forehead rested against yours. His eyes met yours again, calm but intense. “We’re free,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” you whispered back, a small smile breaking through. “And together.”
The ocean stretched endlessly around you, sunlight dancing across the waves. Katakuri’s hand gently held yours, fingers curling around yours like a vow. And somewhere in the quiet, open water, the two of you began to move forward, together.
Summary: Law thought he had been painfully obvious about his feelings. Unfortunately for him, the one person he liked was completely oblivious.
A/N: Wattpad Request - Law x Cute!Fluster!Reader - plot : He is always keep teasing her until one day he tells her is he is having crush towards her
Masterlist
The Polar Tang was quiet this evening. Most of the crew had already turned in for the night, leaving only the low hum of the submarine’s engines and the soft rustling of papers in the medical room. You sat at the desk, trying your best to focus on the notes in front of you.
Trying being the key word. Because Law was standing far too close again. “You’re holding the pen wrong.”
Your shoulders stiffened instantly. “I...I am not.”
From behind you came a quiet chuckle. “You are,” Law replied calmly. You could practically feel his gaze burning into you. Heat crept up your neck as you stubbornly continued writing. “See?” he added, reaching over your shoulder. His tattooed hand gently adjusted your grip.
Your brain short-circuited. He was leaning over you now, close enough that you could feel his breath near your ear. “There,” he said. “Better.” Your face felt like it might burst into flames.
“T-thank you, Captain.” Law hummed thoughtfully but didn’t move away, of course he didn’t. He had a habit of doing this, standing too close, leaning over your shoulder, watching you with that unreadable expression of his. And every single time it happened, your composure completely crumbled.
Behind you, Law smirked faintly. “You’re blushing.”
“I am not!”
“You are.” Your hands flew to your face. Law straightened slightly, arms crossing as he studied you. It was almost fascinating how predictable you were.
Lean a little closer, say something mildly teasing, and watch you turn bright red. It had become one of his favorite things to do to you. One he hadn’t bothered to think much into until recently.
“You get flustered easily,” he said.
You peeked through your fingers. “Maybe because you keep doing things like that!”
“Like what?”
“Standing so close!”
Law tilted his head. “You’re the one who hasn’t moved.”
Your mouth opened.
Closed it.
And the opened again, but no words came out.
Law had to stifle a laugh. Adorable.
You huffed and turned back to the desk, determined to ignore him. For a moment, the room fell quiet again. Then Law spoke, “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
The pen slipped from your hand and clattered onto the desk.
Silence.
Slowly, very slowly, you turned toward him standing up from the desk. “What?”
Law blinked and shrugged like he hadn’t said something that caused your heart to almost fly out of your chest. “What?”
“You just called me cute!”
“Yes.”
“And you said it like it was normal!”
“It is.” Your brain was spiraling.
Law watched the panic unfold across your face with growing confusion. How was this not obvious? He’d been teasing you for months. Watching your reactions. Saying things that should have made his intentions very clear. And yet, you were staring at him like he’d just spoken another language.
“You didn’t know,” he muttered.
“K-know what?!”
Law sighed, running a hand through his hair, unbelievable. He stepped forward, and you immediately stepped back.
Another step.
You retreated again.
Until your back hit the edge of the desk. Your heart nearly exploded when Law placed both hands on the desk beside you, effectively trapping you between his arms. He leaned down slightly and your entire face was red.
“Captain?!” you squeaked.
Law stared down at you, mildly exasperated. “Have you really not figured it out?”
“Figured out what?!”
“This.” His voice lowered slightly. “Why I keep teasing you.”
Your brain was officially melting. “I thought you were just being mean!”
Law went very still. “Mean?”
“A little!”
He exhaled slowly and then he spoke again. “I tease you because I like you.”
Your mind went blank, you blink up at him trying to understand what just came out of his mouth. “What?”
Law’s expression didn’t change, but his ears were faintly pink. “I assumed that was obvious.”
“It was not obvious!”
“I called you cute.”
“People say that!”
“I stood close to you.”
“Most of the crew does!”
“I watched you blush for ten minutes straight yesterday.”
“I thought you were judging me!”
Law stared at you. Then he let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
Your brain was still buffering. “You… you like me?”
“Yes.”
“Like… like me?”
“Yes.”
“Like romantically?!”
Law leaned slightly closer, eyes narrowing in mild amusement. “Yes.”
Your face somehow turned even redder. “Oh.”
Silence stretched between you, then Law smirked faintly leaning closer to you. “Well?”
“Well what?!”
“Now you know.”
Your hands flew to your face again. “I can’t think when you’re this close!”
“Good.”
“That’s not helpful!”
Law chuckled softly, finally pushing himself away from the desk. But before stepping back fully, he gently tapped your forehead. “Take your time.” He turned toward the door. “…But for the record,” he added over his shoulder, “you’re still cute when you’re flustered.”
Your entire body froze, from the hallway, you heard a quiet laugh. And somewhere down the corridor, a few members of the crew immediately started whispering. Apparently, they’d been listening, oh great just what you needed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning was a disaster, not because anything bad had happened. But because you now had to face Law after he had casually confessed that he liked you. Every time you thought about it, your brain turned into complete mush.
You had spent the entire night replaying the moment in your head. “I tease you because I like you.” Your face burned again just remembering it. Which was exactly why you had been hiding from him all morning.
Unfortunately, hiding on a submarine was difficult, especially when the person you were hiding from was the Captain. By the time you finally spotted Law again, he was standing near one of the observation windows, calmly reviewing a stack of papers like nothing life-altering had happened the night before.
Your heart immediately started pounding. You could walk away. You should walk away. Instead, you marched directly toward him.
Law didn’t even look up when you stopped in front of him. “Took you long enough.”
Your soul nearly left your body. “You knew I was there?”
“I heard you pacing behind me for the last couple of minutes.” Of course he did.
You swallowed. “I, um… I wanted to talk.”
Now he looked up. Golden eyes settled on you, sharp and observant; your face heated instantly. “About?” he asked.
You gripped the edge of your sleeve nervously. “About what you said yesterday.”
Law tilted his head slightly. “And?”
Your brain screamed. Say it! Just say it! Instead, what came out was, “I thought about it a lot!”
“That’s usually how thinking works.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Law’s lips twitched upwards. You took a deep breath. “I like you too.” The words left your mouth so fast you almost didn’t recognize them.
For once, Law looked slightly surprised. “You do?”
You nodded rapidly. “Yes!”.
Law closed the folder in his hand. “Well,” he said calmly. “That simplifies things.”
Your brain short-circuited again, before you could second guess yourself you suddenly leaned forward, and kissed him. It lasted maybe two seconds. Three at most. Just a quick, nervous press of your lips against his.
Your eyes went wide.
You had just kissed Law.
You turned and bolted, absolutely bolted down the hallway like you were trying to out run a monster. You flew past two very shocked crew members. Your brain was screaming the entire time. You froze mid-stride, and then you were roomed back into the room.
Slowly, painfully slowly, you turned around. Law was still standing exactly where you left him, looking entirely too calm and pleased with himself. His hand was raised slightly.
Your stomach dropped. “Law, you used your Devil Fruit.”
“Yes.”
“That’s cheating!”
Law raised an eyebrow. “You kissed me and ran away.”
Your face was burning so badly you thought you might combust. “I panicked!”
“Clearly.” He stepped closer. Your survival instincts told you to run again. But with Law’s devil fruit you wouldn’t make it far. Law studied your face for a moment. “You’re still blushing.”
“You’re still kidnapping me with your powers!”
“Not kidnapping.” His hand gently caught your wrist before you could attempt another escape. “Retrieving.”
Your heart was racing again. “You can’t just teleport people!”
“I can.”
“That’s not the point!”
Law’s expression softened slightly, then he leaned down just a little. “You started something,” he murmured.
Your brain melted. “I did?”
“Yes.” Before you could even begin to process what he meant, Law’s fingers lightly caught your chin, tilting your face up toward his. Your breath caught and for a brief second he simply looked at you, his golden eyes studying every inch of your rapidly reddening face.
Then he closed the distance.
The kiss was nothing like yours had been. Where yours had been rushed and panicked, Law’s was slow, unhurried and deliberate. One of his hand wrapped around your waist, steadying you as if he already knew your knees might give out.
All you could focus on was how warm he was and the quiet confidence in the way he kissed you, like he had absolutely no doubt you belonged right there. Your hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before finally grabbing the front of his coat pulling him closer to you. Which only made him hum faintly against your lips, the sound sent another wave of heat straight to your face.
When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to look at you. You stared at him, eyes wide and unfocused, completely dazed by the kiss.
Law smirked faintly, “See?”
Your voice came out weak. “See what?”
“You ran to soon.” Your face exploded with heat again.
“I do not!”
“You tried to escape.”
“Because you were looking at me like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like...” Your words stopped when you noticed something moving down the hallway.
Bepo.
Shachi.
Penguin.
All three were staring.
All three were grinning.
You gasped. “They saw that!”
Law glanced over his shoulder. “They’ve been there the whole time.”
Your soul left your body. “I’m never leaving my room again.”
Law chuckled quietly. “You can always hide in mine.”
You felt your soul return only to vanish again. “Law!”
Law smirked. “You’re not getting away that easily.”
Hello this is my first request and English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes or if you have trouble understanding…..
I read your one shot with a sea king who has a crush, I loved it and I wanted to know if it was possible to do it with the whitebeard crew??
That's it and I love your way of writing I often look at your writings on the characters of one piece!!!!
A Sea King with a Crush
Characters: Whitebeard Pirates (Platonic)
Summary: A Sea King decides to court you and your crew is no help.
A/N: Your English is good and I had no trouble understanding. Honestly, I have had this idea half-finished in my drafts for over a month, and I had forgotten about it. This request reminded me and motivated me to finish it. And thank you! I'm so happy you enjoy my writing!
Masterlist
The Moby Dick cut through the calm ocean like a giant whale swimming across the sea. The deck buzzed with the usual chaos of pirates laughing, arguing, and drinking long before noon. You leaned over the railing, enjoying the breeze. Life aboard the ship of Edward Newgate was never boring.
“Oi! Y/N!” Someone shouted. You turned to see Ace waving a skewer of grilled meat. “Want some?” He grinned.
Before you could answer, Marco swooped down beside him with a sigh. “Ace, that’s the fifth time you’ve tried to bribe them with food today, yoi.”
“It’s called generosity!” Ace protested.
From the captain’s chair, Whitebeard laughed deeply. “Gurarararara! Let the kid breathe, Ace!”
You smiled, being part of this crew meant being constantly surrounded by loud, ridiculous family members. Which is exactly why no one noticed the massive shadow rising from the sea, wntil the water exploded.
SPLASH!
A gigantic head burst out of the ocean beside the ship.
“SEA KING!!” Someone shouted. Pirates scrambled everywhere. Swords were drawn; guns were cocked, and someone spilled an entire barrel of sake. The creature was enormous, green scales, sharp teeth, and eyes the size of cannonballs. But instead of roaring, it blinked and then it stared directly at you.
“Why is it looking at Y/N?” Ace whispered.
The Sea King slowly lowered its giant head, until it was level with the railing and then it made a strange noise. “Grrr… rrroo…”
Marco tilted his head. “Is it purring?”
The massive creature nudged the side of the ship gently and the entire Moby Dick rocked. “HEY!!” pirates shouted attempting to stay upright.
You stared at the Sea King. “…Uh. Hi?”
The Sea King’s eyes lit up, and it splashed happily. Ace squinted. “Why does it look excited?”
Before anyone could react, the creature dove underwater. “Did… it leave?” someone asked.
A moment later, the Sea King resurfaced, holding something in its mouth.
A giant fish.
It carefully placed the fish on the deck, tight in front of you. Silence fell across the ship as everyone looked at you then the fish and back at the Sea King.
Ace slowly turned. “Did it just bring Y/N a gift?”
Marco rubbed his temples. “Oh no.”
The Sea King stared at you expectantly. You looked at the fish and back at the creature that could cause some major damage if it wanted to. “Thank you?” The creature made a delighted rumbling sound.
Whitebeard burst out laughing. “GURARARARARA!! Looks like you’ve got yourself an admirer!”
Ace doubled over. “Y/N got proposed to by a Sea King!!”
“I DID NOT!”
Another splash.
The Sea King disappeared again.
Marco sighed, "I have a bad feeling about this.”
Not a minute later the Sea King returned, with an even bigger fish. It gently dropped the offering beside the first one.
Ace wiped tears from his eyes. “Oh my god it’s trying harder.”
“STOP ENCOURAGING IT!!” You yelled.
The Sea King waited. You let a sight and then you awkwardly patted its nose. The creature nearly flipped the ship with excitement. Pirates tumbled everywhere. “WE’RE GONNA SINK!!”
“ACE STOP LAUGHING AND HELP!!”
Whitebeard leaned back, shaking with laughter. “Never thought I’d see the day one of my crew charmed a Sea King.”
Marco sighed again. “This is going to become a problem, yoi.” As if on cue, three more Sea Kings rose from the water, each holding fish. Ace went silent for all of five seconds before dropping into the ground laughing. Marco facepalmed. “It told its friends.”
You stared at the growing pile of fish on deck, then at the four enormous Sea Kings staring lovingly at you. "Marco.”
“Yeah?”
“Help.”
Ace still collapsed on the deck laughing, shouted. “Y/N started a REVERSE SEA KING HAREM!!!”
Whitebeard roared with laughter, loud enough to shake the ocean, and somewhere in the chaos the first Sea King proudly nudged your shoulder again. Apparently very pleased with its new favorite human.
Behind you, Ace was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe nor was laughter even coming out anymore. “You’ve got admirers!” He wheezed.
From the captain’s chair, Whitebread roared with laughter. “GURARARARA! Looks like the ocean itself favors my kid!”
Just then, a voice cut through the chaos. “WHAT IN THE GRAND LINE IS THIS?!” Everyone turned, standing at the galley door was Thatch, holding a cooking knife in one hand. He stared at the deck.
Fish.
More fish.
Even more fish.
“Why,” he said slowly, “are there so many fish on deck?”
You pointed weakly at the Sea Kings. “They brought them.”
Thatch blinked. “They WHAT?”
The closest Sea King lifted another fish and gently set it beside you.
Thatch stared, then he turned to Marco. “Can we keep them?”
Marco nearly choked. “NO!”
Thatch crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Think about it though. Unlimited seafood supply.”
“THATCH!”
Another voice spoke calmly from the railing. “You all seem remarkably excited.” Everyone looked up, perched elegantly on the side of the ship was Izou, arms folded. He glanced from the Sea Kings, to the pile of fish and then to you. “Why are Sea Kings courting Y/N?”
One of the Sea Kings leaned closer to the railing. Izou slowly reached for his pistols. The Sea King froze, then gently placed a fish on the deck it front of him. Izou stared at the offering. “It bribed me.”
“IT’S BRIBING EVERYONE!” You cried.
Thatch was already dragging fish toward the kitchen. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Marco grabbed him by the collar. “You’re encouraging them!”
“I’m being resourceful!”
Suddenly, a fifth Sea King surfaced.
Ace stopped laughing. “Why are there more?”
The first Sea King proudly nudged the ship. Izou narrowed his eyes. “Did it recruit others?”
Marco sighed. “Of course it did.”
The newest Sea King rose from the water. In its mouth, a giant pearl the size of a barrel. It gently placed it at your feet. Thatch whistled. “Y/N, that one’s rich.”
Ace wiped tears from his eyes. “You’re getting upgrades!”
“I DON’T WANT UPGRADES!”
Whitebeard leaned forward, amused. “Well, kid,” he chuckled, “looks like you’ve conquered the sea without even trying.”
You looked around desperately. Five Sea Kings now surrounded the ship, each staring at you like an excited puppy.
Izou sighed. “This is your life now.”
Marco nodded grimly. “You’re the Sea King Whisperer.”
Ace pointed dramatically. “Y/N, Ruler of the Sea Kings!”
“I HATE ALL OF YOU!”
The first Sea King purred happily and nudged the ship again. The Moby Dick rocked dangerously. "STOP HITTING THE BOAT!!” Someone screamed.
Whitebeard’s laughter echoed across the sea. “GURARARARARA!!”
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have you perchance considered writing additional parts to any of your one piece multi-character series with shanks and whoever else speaks to you? i like the way you write him, and i think you capture his character well :)
I have considered it and I am planning too. Some characters I have avoided writing because I wanted to write them well and when I originally did the parts I started with characters that I felt more confident in writing.
So, as I added characters, I was planning on going back and adding new parts. Sometimes I may need a reminder or specific request asking for that part with more characters because I tend to forget things when I don't see them. That's why most of the parts haven't been updated with some of the characters I have started to include.
So, if anyone wants the multi-character series with other characters, best thing to do is request it because I will add it to my request list and I when I see it, I will remember to do it as I have time.
And thank you, I'm glad I'm capturing his character well. I love the One Piece series and want to do justice to all the characters I write for.
Summary: After escaping a Celestial Dragon and being rescued at sea by the Kid Pirates, you slowly find a new home among their chaos and a growing connection with Killer.
A/N: Wattpad Request - I have an idea for Killer. Could you do a one shot of Killer and reader where Killer saves her from a celestial dragon, you can add whatever else you want to it. But I feel like this would just showcase just how protective Killer is
Masterlist
Smoke rose in the sky, black and thick. The wooden deck of the ship groaned under the damage caused by the flames as fire devoured everything in its path. The sea beyond was deceptively calm, indifferent to the chaos consuming the vessel.
You crouched low, chest heaving, the bitter tang of smoke in your throat. The Celestial Dragon, the very being who had kept you in chains, who had looked at you like property instead of a person, was gone. You still couldn’t believe he was dead; a fiery beam came crashing down, taking him out. You quickly scrambled and got the keys from his body, removing your explosive collar.
“Move… move!” You muttered to yourself, rushing towards the small dingy ready to be dropped in the cold ocean below the burning ship. Heat licked at your fingers, embers falling like angry fireflies. Below, screams and curses collided with the roar of flames, but you didn’t look back. You couldn’t.
You managed to undo the knots and the dingy hit the water. The ship pitched violently, a cracking scream of wood echoing across the waves as flames reflected in your wide eyes. Your heart was hammering so loud, you let the current carry you away, away from chains, away from cruelty, away from everything you had known.
Several days went by with no sign of land or another ship; your condition wasn’t great when you had escaped, and the days at sea without food or water were taking a toll on your body. You finally could feel your body giving out unable to even lift your head to watch the horizon for the signs of life. The waves rocked the dingy gently, but your body didn’t respond. The sea was quiet, almost mocking in its calm, as if it knew you had no control here.
A sudden shout broke the silence. “Oi! Over there!”
You weren’t sure if you were hearing something as you couldn’t focus on anything. You felt a shadow block out the scorching sun and a felt the dingy rock as someone dropped into it. You looked up but the figure was blurry and you felt yourself slipping into unconsciousness. The last thing you heard was a deep voice say, “I have got you.” before nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The smell of salt and smoke was no longer unfamiliar. You had learned quickly how the Kid Pirates operated, the chaos, the sharp laughter, the constant movement between danger and freedom. After they found you a drift, Killer had personally made sure you were tended to, giving you water, food, and the quiet space to recover. The others had kept their distance at first, wary of a newcomer, but gradually curiosity won them over.
You had gone from a near-death castaway to a part of the crew. You learned to tie knots that wouldn’t come undone in a storm, to patch sails, to handle a blade just enough to defend yourself. And through it all, Killer was there silent, watching, occasionally offering a comment that was half guidance, half tease.
“Don’t get distracted,” he had said one morning while you struggled with a stubborn rope. “Or the next wave won’t just knock you over, it’ll wash you overboard.”
But even in those words, there was a note of concern that kept you on edge. You had begun to notice how he was turned in your direction or how his hand sometimes brushed yours for just a second longer than necessary. The kind of attention that made your chest tighten in ways you hadn’t felt before.
It wasn’t just the absence of the Celestial Dragon, it was the chaos of life aboard the Kid Pirates’ ship, the unpredictability of each day, the thrill of danger, and the strange, dangerous pull toward the masked man who had saved you from the sea. For the first time in your life, you weren’t just surviving. You were living.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You loved all of them.
Somewhere between scrubbing the deck and surviving your first storm, the chaos of the Kid Pirates had become home. Their loud laughter, their reckless fights, the way they argued over the last piece of meat. It filled a place in your chest you hadn’t known was there. You learned their habits, their tempers and their tells on and off the battlefield.
You began to see them as the family you had never been allowed to have.
But then there was Killer. What you had with him was… different.
At first, it had been practicality. He was the one who found you. The one who said, I have got you. His presence became constant in a way that balanced the rest of the crew’s chaos.
You grew used to his hand brushing yours while helping you prepare meals. The way he would stand just a little too close when showing you how to adjust a blade’s grip. The way he leaned over your shoulder when you practiced your writing, his voice low as he corrected you.
“You’re holding the quill too tight,” he murmured once, large fingers guiding your wrist. “It’s not a weapon.”
You huffed at that. “Kid said everything can be a weapon.”
“Fair.” He replied with amusement in his voice.
Together you discover the things you like and dislike. You quickly found a love for reading and writing. Killer would make time for it; no matter how busy the day had been, he would sit across from you, massive frame folded surprisingly neatly and would read slowly so you could follow along. When you stumbled over words, he never laughed. When you got them right, there was a quiet nod of approval that made your chest feel strangely warm.
Killer also had started to try to get you to open up more, at least with him. This came with varying degrees of success. The most you could ever get out was that you had belonged to Celestial Dragon, past that you wouldn’t say much on the topic.
The crew caught on quick something was happening between the two of you and teasing became routine. It wasn’t often they could mess with the first mate.
“Oi, Killer!” someone would call out. “Your shadow’s looking for you!”
“Careful, (Y/N), he’s only helping you read and write so you’ll write him love letters!”
Heat would rise to your face. Killer never reacted much outwardly, but you noticed the slight stiffening of his shoulders and the way he would move slightly closer to you afterward, as if daring anyone to say more.
But there were also moments of danger. Pirates were not forgiving, the seas even less so. But Killer was always there, not smothering and not hovering, but if an attack came too fast, he intercepted it. If you stumbled, his back was suddenly at yours. In the aftermath of every fight you would look up and find his masked face already turned towards you confirming you were still okay.
There was something more between the two you, but no moves were made it change what you both had right now. Maybe neither of you wanted to disturb it. Maybe you were both afraid that if you reached for it too openly, it would disappear. But change occurs whether you would like it to or not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It happened on an island glittering with wealth. It was too clean, too polished, too perfect.
The Kid Pirates had docked for supplies, loud and impossible to ignore, per usual. You stayed close to the crew at first, helping haul crates, keeping your head down out of habit. It was still hard to break those habits when you were off the ship.
Killer noticed, he always did. “You’re safe.” he murmured as he passed you a sack of flour.
You nodded, “I know.”
You felt it before you saw him, that suffocating presence. That awful, crawling feeling under your skin. The crowd shifted, then parted, and then bowed down and your blood ran cold.
A Celestial Dragon. The bubble gleamed under the sun. The ridiculous suit. The guards. The slaves. And that look, that look you knew too well.
Possession.
Your hands started shaking before you could stop them, not again. This couldn't be happening again. You stepped back and bumped into something solid.
Killer.
He had gone still behind you. “Don’t look at him,” he said quietly, trying to draw your attention away from the man.
But it was too late. The Dragon’s eyes had already landed on you. “Well now,” the noble drawled, voice thick with lazy disgust. “That one. I’ll take that one.”
The world narrowed, you couldn’t breathe. You were back on that burning ship, back in chains, and back in that collar. A guard stepped forward.
A metallic shriek pierced the air.
Kid.
Metal ripped from nearby stalls and street posts, slamming into the guard hard enough to send him crashing across stone street. The street erupted into chaos. The Celestial Dragon screeched in outrage.
But you didn’t see any of it, because Killer had moved. He stepped in front of you fully now, broad back blocking your view, twin scythes already in hand. A fury you didn’t know he was capable of him rolling off him in waves. “You don’t get to point at her and have her” he said.
The Dragon raised a shaking pistol. There was a gunshot.
You flinched, but Killer didn’t. One of his blades flashed, and the bullet split clean in half. Gasps rippled through the crowd. You had seen him fight countless times, but you had never seen him like this.
He didn’t toy with the guards, didn’t mock them, and didn’t let the fight drag. Every movement was precise, efficient, and brutal. One guard lunged toward you. Killer intercepted so fast it was almost unnatural. Steel met bone with a sickening crack. “Stay behind me,” he ordered.
The Celestial Dragon stumbled backward, shrieking about Admirals. Killer advanced, slowly. The noble fired again wildly. Another flash of steel and the pistol clattered to the ground in pieces. Killer’s blade stopped a hair’s breadth from the bubble.
The entire street held its breath, you could feel it, that line. The one you never came back from. If he struck, an Admiral would come. War would be brought down on the Kid pirates. And he would do it, for you. You knew he would.
“Killer.” Your voice was small, but it cut through the noise. He didn’t move. “Killer… I’m not in chains anymore.” His shoulders rose once before falling slightly. You stepped closer despite the danger, fingers curling into the fabric at his back. “I’m here, with you.”
The blades trembled, just slightly, then, he lowered it. The Celestial Dragon collapsed in hysterics, scrambling away, screaming promises of execution and punishment.
Killer didn’t spare him another glance. He turned immediately, hands coming to your shoulders. His grip was tight but not painful, just grounding. You realized he was shaking, not with fear, with restraint. “They don’t get to take you,” he said. “Not from me. Not from this crew. Not ever.”
Something in your chest cracked open. “I’m not something to take,” you whispered.
His masked face tilted slightly. “I know,” he said. Behind you, Kid barked for everyone to retreat before reinforcements arrived. The crew regrouped quickly, adrenaline high and wild laughter spilling from some of them.
But Killer didn’t move right away. His hands slid down from your shoulders to your hands, interlaced, firm, and certain. You squeezed his hands. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His grip tightened in response. “Good,” he said.
And for the first time since you’d known him, he reached up slowly and removed his mask. Not fully, just enough. Enough for you to see his mouth. Enough for you to see the tight line of it. Enough to see the emotion he never let anyone else witness. “If anyone tries to chain you again,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop again.” It was a promise.
You stepped forward and pressed your forehead lightly to his chest. “I know.”
His arms came around you immediately, protective. The crew was already retreating toward the ship. Chaos resumed around you, but for a moment, it was just the two of you.
------- Extra Scene ------
Night wrapped around the ship like a heavy blanket but you couldn’t sleep. The memory of the Celestial Dragon’s voice still echoed faintly in your skull.
That I’ll take that one.
You sat near the stern, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the wake cutting through the water.
You didn’t hear Killer approach. “You should be resting,” he said.
You gave a small huff. “So should you.” He gave a small grunt and sat down beside you. Silence stretched comfortably for a moment, the waves doing most of the talking.
“You froze.” It wasn’t accusation nor was it judgment, it was statement.
Your fingers tightened around your sleeves. “I thought…” You swallowed. “I thought I was back there.” He didn’t ask where he knew.
“I hated that he looked at you,” Killer said quietly. “Like that.”
You glanced sideways at him. “You almost killed him.”
“I would have.”
Your chest tightened again, but differently this time. “You were shaking,” you murmured.
A faint exhale. Not quite a laugh. “I was angry.”
“At him?”
“Yes.”
“And at myself.”
That made you turn fully toward him. “For what?”
His hands rested loosely on his knees, but you noticed the subtle tension in his fingers. “I wasn’t there the first time.”
“You didn’t even know me,” you said softly.
“That doesn’t change it.”
Your throat closed up. You shifted closer without really thinking about it, your knee brushing his thigh. He stilled at the contact. “I’m not in chains anymore,” you reminded him gently.
“I know.”
“But you still look at me like you’re waiting for someone to try.”
“I am. But I wouldn’t let it happen.”
You couldn’t help it, you smiled faintly. “You’re impossible.”
“Probably.” The wind tugged lightly at your hair. Before you could fix it, his hand lifted, slow, deliberate, brushing the strands away from your face. His hand lingered, resting on your cheek. Your breath caught. This close, you could hear it, the subtle change in his breathing.
“You don’t have to guard me every second,” you whispered.
“I want to.”
The honesty in that nearly undid you. You reached up, your fingers hovering near the edge of his mask. He didn’t pull away. “Killer…” He leaned into your touch, enough to tell you he was choosing this. “You said,” you began quietly, “that no one gets to take me.”
“Yes.”
You swallowed. “Good.” And before you could lose your nerve, you leaned forward. The mask made it awkward, until his hand moved quickly, lifting it just enough, your lips met his, it wasn’t rushed, nor was it desperate; it was warm, gentle and real.
For a second, he didn’t move, like he was afraid it would vanish if he did. Then his other hand came up, sliding to the back of your neck, holding you there with a gentleness that didn’t match his strength. The kiss deepened slightly, slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing it. When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together. The ocean kept moving and the ship kept sailing, but the world felt still all the same.
“You’re still shaking,” you murmured softly.
“Not from anger,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You laughed under your breath. His thumb brushed lightly along your jaw. “If anyone ever...”
You pressed a finger gently to his lips. “I know,” you said. “You won’t stop.”
With a quiet hum of agreement, he lowered his forehead to yours again, and for once, the first mate of the Kid Pirates let himself just be a man sitting under the stars, holding the person he chose. And who chose him back.
