Hellooo I Really Like Your Work And Would Like To Request Some Angst
hellooo I really like your work and would like to request some angst
maybe like reader dies or gets close to it. some more uncommon charcters too like nami, usopp, or franky please!!
thank you for really cool work and I hope you can do this!!
hii! thank u sm~ oohh~ thats a great idea, ive decided to put them all together, hope u like it!
What Remains
The Straw Hats survive a Marine superweapon test — but only because you don’t. You made a choice to save them all, and they didn’t see it coming.
strawhats x platonic gn! reader tags: angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, platonic bonds, grief a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1k
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
Smoke curled upward from the scorched ruins of the Marine testing island. The sky was dim, bleeding orange as the sun tried and failed to burn away the choking clouds.
They found your body beneath the collapsed structure—arms still raised like you were shielding the others even in death.
It wasn’t the injuries that broke them. It was the look on your face.
Peaceful.
Like you knew.
ONE WEEK EARLIER.
"These weapons..." Franky said, examining the diagrams. "They’re worse than anything Vegapunk ever dreamed up. They’re built to erase islands."
“And they’re testing them here?” Nami’s voice trembled with disbelief.
Usopp peered over the map. “That’s not all. Some of this... it’s Poneglyph script. These freaks are mixing history with firepower.”
You didn’t say anything.
You just stared at the map. Quiet. Calm. Like a storm on the horizon no one else had seen yet.
“We have to stop this,” you said.
Of course, everyone agreed.
But none of them saw what you saw. None of them realized the cost yet.
Not even you.
THE BATTLE.
The Straw Hats split into teams. Luffy and Zoro drew the front lines away. Robin sabotaged the comms. Brook and Jinbei distracted the guards. Chopper tended to wounded civilians trying to escape.
You were supposed to go in with Franky and Usopp.
You didn’t.
You slipped away the moment they weren’t looking, whispering your last words to Nami before disappearing into the smoke.
“I trust you. Don’t look back.”
You found the core buried deep underground.
A thrumming vault of seastone and ancient script, glowing with stolen knowledge and raw destruction.
You knew what it meant.
You could read the Poneglyph fragments embedded in the weapons.
You knew what would happen if they were activated.
So you made a choice.
A selfish, irreversible choice.
You overloaded the core.
THE AFTERMATH.
When the blast hit, it carved a crater into the earth.
Luffy felt it first—his scream carried across the island like a cannon blast. “(Y/N)!!”
Franky’s stomach dropped. He bolted toward the smoke, ignoring everything—orders, pain, fire.
Usopp followed. Nami, too. She didn’t even speak. Her Clima-Tact sparked wildly, emotions bleeding into weather.
They dug with bare hands and bleeding fingers.
And finally, they found you.
Still. Burned. Crushed.
But unmistakably you.
And unmistakably gone.
THE SUNNY.
Franky hadn’t spoken in two days.
He sat in the engine room, back turned to everyone, arms blackened with soot and oil. He worked until his hands bled, building gods knew what.
Chopper had tried to check on him. Franky didn’t even look up.
Usopp wandered the deck in silence, eyes red, mouth dry. He hadn’t told a single story since they left the island.
He’d tried. He opened his mouth once to make a joke, and nothing came out.
So he just sat with your grave marker, talking to it like you were there.
And Nami—Nami was broken in a way no one had ever seen.
She didn’t cry loudly. She didn’t scream. She just shut down.
She went days without food. Sat curled in the crow’s nest, staring out to sea, clutching the note you left her in your final moments.
"Don’t look back."
She hated you for it.
She loved you for it.
She never stopped shaking.
NIGHT.
Luffy stood by the railing, his hat pulled low, wind in his face.
Sanji stood beside him in silence.
“You knew they were gonna die,” Luffy said suddenly. His voice wasn’t angry. It was hollow.
Sanji lit a cigarette, fingers shaking. “I knew they weren’t coming back.”
Luffy didn’t answer.
“They saved all of us,” Sanji added after a long pause.
“I didn’t want saving,” Luffy whispered.
Then he turned and walked away.
FRANKY.
The machine he was building exploded.
He didn’t flinch.
Robin found him hours later, crouched beside the wreckage, staring into space.
“They’d have slapped me for this,” he said quietly.
Robin knelt beside him. “For what?”
“For not stopping them.”
“They knew what they were doing.”
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
Robin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It never does.”
USOPP.
He buried the dials you used in a small, unmarked box.
Every trap you helped him design, every gadget you tweaked. Gone. Hidden away like a secret.
“I’m never going to be that brave,” he whispered.
Then he broke.
Ugly, shaking sobs that echoed across the deck.
NAMI.
She didn’t speak for three days.
Then, she found Franky. Slammed him into a wall.
“You let them go alone!” she screamed.
Franky didn’t fight back. “I know.”
“YOU PROMISED—YOU PROMISED ME THEY’D COME BACK—!”
He wrapped his arms around her mid-swing, held her as she sobbed, her fists pounding against his chest until they were too weak to lift.
ONE WEEK LATER.
Luffy called everyone to the deck.
No one knew why.
When they arrived, they found him standing in front of a small, newly-built monument.
A single beam of the destroyed fortress. Carved with your name.
And beneath it—your jacket. Cleaned. Pressed. Folded neatly.
Luffy didn’t speak.
He didn’t need to.
They stood together. Silent.
One by one, they left offerings.
Sanji placed a bottle of sake.
Robin left a single violet flower.
Chopper tied a string of charms around the wood.
Zoro leaned his sword against it for a moment. A quiet nod of respect.
Brook played a low, mournful tune on his violin.
Jinbei lit a lantern and pushed it into the sea.
Usopp placed a small slingshot on the beam.
Franky left a blueprint.
And Nami… Nami placed your note. The last one you ever wrote.
“Don’t look back.”
She whispered, “I’m going to.”
Then she walked away.
.
.
.
They kept your room the way it was.
No one said it aloud—but they all visited.
Nami would sit on your bed when the nightmares came.
Usopp would fix the shelves you always overloaded with junk.
Franky recharged your tools every week, even though you weren’t there to use them.
And Luffy…
Luffy would sit on the figurehead, facing forward, holding your jacket in his lap.
He never cried where anyone could see.
But the jacket was always warm.
As if it still remembered you.
More Posts from Sh4nksslvt and Others
Perfect pair
Y/n lands on the forsaken island of Kuraigana, crossing paths with the world’s greatest swordsman, Dracule Mihawk.
PART 1 OF READER WHO CAN USE THE INFINITY STONES
dracule mihawk x reader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT
main characters: mihawk
tags: fluff, sfw, soft, lots of v!ol3nce
a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc
words count: 968
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
Kuraigana Island was a corpse of a land.
Fog hung like a wet cloth. Gnarled trees clawed at a grey sky. Castles lay in ruin. Crows perched on broken battlements, staring like tiny, judgmental gods. The humandrills lurked in the shadows, half-watching, half-measuring you with the unsettling intelligence of creatures that knew too much and bowed to nothing.
You arrived with no fanfare — a split in space, a ripple in air, and there you stood.
The swordsman was already waiting.
Golden eyes sharp as his blade, Dracule Mihawk took you in without surprise. Just a flick of his gaze, the briefest narrowing of lids.
“You’re not from here.”
“...”
A beat. Then a faint smirk.
“State your business.”
You glanced around. The entire island radiated don’t bother, but you liked the silence.
“Needed a place to land.”
Mihawk regarded you a moment longer, then turned away.
“Don’t get in my way.”
You didn’t answer. You never did.
There he stood, placing the wine aside. Up close, he was taller than you expected, broad-shouldered and impossibly composed, moving like liquid death. The sort of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to command a room.
“I don’t know where you came from,” he said, approaching with unhurried grace, “but I can tell you this island is no place for a traveler. It devours the weak.”
“I’m not weak.”
Something in his eyes sharpened. “Prove it.”
A sword materialized in his hand—a black-bladed cross almost as tall as you were.
You didn’t blink.
He smirked, and in a blur of movement, brought the blade down.
You raised a hand.
The world stuttered. Time hiccupped.
His strike slowed to a crawl, the blade inches from your face.
“Cute,” you murmured, tilting your head. You could feel the hum of cosmic power rising within you.
With a flick of your wrist, you stepped out of sync with the moment. Time resumed, his blade cleaving harmlessly through empty air.
You were leaning against a column now.
“Done?” you asked, voice flat.
Mihawk turned, eye narrowing. A slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth.
“Well, Aren’t you interesting.”
Days bled together.
Mihawk didn’t ask you to leave, and you didn’t offer. He trained in the ruins. You wandered. A routine of unspoken tolerance.
Occasionally, the hum of his blade slicing the mist would pause as you flexed space to pluck fruit from high branches, reversed time to catch a falling stone before it shattered, or made entire sections of the crumbling wall rebuild themselves just for fun.
Once, a particularly bold baboon lunged at you. Mihawk turned just in time to see it dissolve into stardust.
You held its still-beating heart in your palm for a moment, then let it fall.
The humandrills kept their distance after that.
He said nothing, but his eyes followed you longer after that.
He asked about your powers one evening, rare curiosity threading his tone.
You sat by a fire you didn’t need, lazily manipulating the flame into twisting shapes.
“Are you a god?”
You considered it. “Complicated.”
He hummed. “Good. I hate gods.”
The corner of your mouth twitched. “Noted.”
Tension hung between you like fine wire. Neither speaking it. Neither breaking it.
When pirates landed, drunk on courage and legends of Mihawk’s title, you watched from a stone wall.
Twenty men.
They charged.
Mihawk moved like death made flesh, blade a dark glimmer. He cut through them like wind through leaves.
One survivor crawled toward you, gasping, reaching.
You tilted your head.
The man froze. His body peeled apart into strings of light, unraveling like an old tapestry.
Mihawk watched, bloodied and silent.
You met his gaze. “Messy work.”
He smirked. “Efficient.”
Weeks later, a storm hit.
Lightning split the sky. Waves devoured the shore.
A galleon, unfamiliar flag, shattered against the cliffs.
Mihawk and you stood at the shore. Bodies in the water. Survivors clinging to wreckage.
“Yours?” you asked.
He shook his head.
A captain, foolish and loud, cursed and called Mihawk out by name.
Mihawk’s blade lifted — but you stepped past him.
A simple gesture. A ripple in reality.
The ocean bent, swallowing the survivors. The ship’s remains vanished, leaving only empty, perfect water.
Silence.
“You stole my kill,” Mihawk said.
You shrugged. “They bored me.”
He stared at you a long moment, then laughed. Low, rare.
“Stay,” he said.
You did.
Because for once, you weren’t bored.
One dusky evening, Mihawk invited you on a hunt.
“A nuisance on a nearby island,” he said. “A former Warlord pretending to hold dominion.”
You quirked a brow. “And you need me?”
“I don’t need anyone,” he replied smoothly. “But you might amuse me.”
You smirked and stepped through a portal, Mihawk following.
The island was a lush jungle, overrun with hostile fauna and even more hostile men.
They expected Mihawk. They didn’t expect you.
One tried to cleave your head from behind.
You stopped time.
Walked around the frozen scene, plucking the man’s weapon away, rewinding his attempted strike into a trip and face-first fall into mud.
When time resumed, Mihawk didn’t flinch, but you caught the slight twitch of his lip.
“You enjoy showing off.”
“I enjoy being alive.”
You flicked a finger. Space warped around a group of enemies, their bodies crushed into a single, compacted orb of air before disappearing.
Mihawk cut down the rest, his precise strikes a sharp contrast to your cosmic chaos.
Afterward, the island was silent save for the wind and the cawing of carrion birds.
Mihawk sheathed his sword.
“You might be dangerous company.”
“You might be boring,” you countered.
Another smirk. “Then we’ll keep testing that.”
You stepped back into Kuraigana’s misty air together.
The humandrills stared harder than usual.
And you, for the first time in centuries, considered the notion of staying.
sooo what if reader and shank,established relationship,and they keep their relationship pretty hidden for a long while until one day one of their crew m mates found them making out/kiss(?) by accidentally but that crewmate keeps that secret hidden but slowly teasers them during dinner(which made the others confused) but soon after they kind of reveal their relationship and the crew goes shocked or something
thats a nice idea~ hope u like this!
Six Months of Secrets, Five Minutes of Hell
Keeping a relationship secret on the Red Force is hard — especially when your crewmate catches you making out and decides to turn dinner into your personal hell.
Shanks x gn! reader | ONE SHOT tags: sfw, fluff, secret relationship, banter, chaotic crew, red hair pirates shenanigans, humor a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc word count: 1.7k
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
The Red Force rocked lazily on the evening tide, the low hum of laughter and clinking mugs filling the warm air. As always, dinner aboard the Red-Haired Pirates was less a meal and more a festival of chaos. Plates clattered, arguments erupted over who cheated at cards, and somewhere in the back, Lucky Roux and Bonk Punch were having a loud, messy food-eating contest that Makino would absolutely kill them for if she were around.
Amidst the noise, you and Shanks sat far apart — as usual. It had always been that way: yelling across the deck, trading jabs and insults like candy. To the crew, you were the ship’s resident cats-and-dogs duo: always ready to bite each other’s heads off, throwing punches (mostly playful, mostly), and causing drama like your lives depended on it.
Which made it the perfect cover.
Because behind closed doors — in stolen moments under the stars, behind barrels, in empty storerooms — you and Shanks weren’t fighting at all. In fact, if Lime Juice hadn't turned the wrong corner half an hour ago and seen his beloved captain pressed against you, hand tangled in your hair while your legs wrapped tight around his hips, he would still be as blissfully oblivious as the rest of them.
Instead, now he sat at dinner looking like a man who had seen the very fabric of reality torn apart.
You caught his eye across the table. He twitched violently and immediately looked away, face burning. Shanks, the bastard, just kept eating, hiding his smug smile behind a mug of sake.
It was going to be a long night.
Earlier That Evening
It wasn’t supposed to happen. You both knew better. But Shanks had looked at you a certain way, had that lazy, half-lidded, I'm about to ruin your life grin — and well, one thing led to another.
You were tucked away in the shadowy corridor near the storage rooms, your back to the wall, Shanks’ mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. Your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer. His hand splayed along your hip, anchoring you there like he never planned to let go.
"You know," you gasped between kisses, "someone’s gonna catch us one of these days—"
"Let 'em," Shanks muttered into your skin. "I'll kiss you right in front of them."
The taste of him — rum, sea salt, and something recklessly him — made your head spin.
"we're really pushing our luck here." he murmured against your mouth, hands skating under your shirt to press warm palms against your lower back
You kissed him harder in answer, swallowing the grin tugging at his lips. "You’re the one who dragged me back here, Captain."
He hummed, low and pleased, nosing along your jawline before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat. His beard scratched deliciously, making you shiver and clutch at his shirt.
"Couldn’t help it," he muttered, voice rough. "You looked too good tonight. Wanted to —" Another kiss, wetter, deeper. "— ruin you a little."
Your laugh dissolved into a gasp when he tugged you flush against him, hands greedy, mouth finding that spot just below your ear that made you tremble.
You twisted your fingers into the front of his open shirt, tugging him even closer, losing yourself in the heat, the hunger, the low rumble of approval he made when you bit his lip—
—and that's exactly when Lime Juice rounded the corner.
You barely had time to flip him off before you heard a yelp — a very familiar yelp — and the clatter of dropped crates.
You and Shanks snapped your heads around in unison.
Lime Juice stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, mouth opening and closing uselessly like a goldfish. One of the barrels he was carrying had rolled away, leaking pickles everywhere.
"...Oh" he said faintly. "Oh no."
"Yo, Lime," Shanks greeted casually, still holding you scandalously close.
You elbowed Shanks hard in the ribs, making him grunt and finally step back. Lime Juice immediately spun on his heel and sprinted away, arms flailing.
You both stared after him.
"...Think he’ll keep his mouth shut?" you asked.
Shanks grinned, cocky and unbothered. "Depends. Might have to bribe him."
You rolled your eyes. "You're insufferable."
"You love me," he sing-songed.
You did. God help you, you really did.
Dinner — Lime Juice: Menace Unleashed
Dinner was supposed to be your safe zone. Laughs, food, and maybe some semi-violent card games.
Instead, you felt like you were on trial.
Lime Juice sat across from you, sipping soup very pointedly. Too pointedly. He kept darting glances at you and Shanks, grinning into his cup like he knew something the rest didn’t.
You felt sweat trickling down your back.
Shanks was no better. His fake casual air was cracking at the seams — his laughter a little too loud, his drinking a little too fast.
"Oi, [Name]," Lime Juice drawled suddenly.
You stiffened.
"If someone was, say, very... energetic... tonight, would it be because they had a good workout?"
"...Workout?" Yasopp repeated, confused.
You nearly knocked your plate off the table.
"You good?" Yasopp asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'M FINE," you wheezed.
The crew blinked.
"Yeah," Lime said smoothly. "Like, I dunno. Someone looked... very physically satisfied coming to dinner."
You choked on your drink so violently that Benn Beckman actually looked concerned.
"Oi," Lucky Roux said, frowning, "what are you going on about, Lime?"
"Nothing~," Lime Juice sang innocently. "Just making observations."
Benn Beckman narrowed his eyes. "You’re being weird."
Shanks shot Lime Juice a murderous look. Lime Juice only smiled wider, sweet as poison.
"And you, Captain," Lime said innocently. "You seem... loosened up. Someone helping you relieve that tension?"
You squeezed your eyes shut. He's going to kill us. He's actually going to kill us.
Meanwhile, the others were getting suspicious.
"Something’s weird," Bonk Punch muttered.
"Maybe they're possessed," Hongo said wisely.
Beckman was watching you two now, sharp-eyed. "You’re twitchier than Shanks at a wine-tasting."
"I am NOT twitchy," Shanks snapped way too fast.
You kicked him under the table. He kicked you back.
Even Monster the monkey was looking at you weirdly.
But Lime Juice wasn’t done.
A few minutes later, while you were mid-bite, Lime leaned back and loudly said:
"Captain~ Been... getting lucky lately?"
The clang of Shanks dropping his fork was deafening.
You wanted to sink through the floor.
The table stared at him. Shanks cleared his throat, cheeks darkening.
"Just... lucky at cards," he said weakly.
"Riiiight~" Lime said with an evil wink.
Hongo scratched his head. "Is he drunk already?"
"I don't get it," Bonk Punch muttered. "What's Lime talking about?"
"Maybe he's implying Shanks got laid," Yasopp joked, laughing.
Everyone chuckled.
Except you and Shanks — who went rigid.
Lime Juice just smiled, swinging his legs casually like a cat about to knock over a full glass.
When dessert arrived, Lime Juice decided to finish you off.
"Say, Y/N," he said loudly, as you reached for a slice of pie. "Didn't realize you had a thing for redheads."
You froze, hand hovering mid-air.
The whole table turned toward you like vultures.
"...What?" you croaked.
"Redheads," Lime Juice said innocently. "They're so... passionate, right? Bit clumsy. Lots of scars. Missing limbs, sometimes."
He was describing Shanks down to the last goddamn freckle.
"So, Cap. Hypothetically," he said, voice dripping fake innocence, "if you were secretly dating someone hot and chaotic, who throws knives at you for fun... would you keep it hidden? Or would you, say, be caught making out behind the supply crates?"
Bonk Punch's fork clattered to his plate.
Yasopp’s eyes widened.
Lucky Roux gasped.
"Wait," Benn said slowly, staring at you both. "Wait a damn minute."
"LIME!" you hissed under your breath.
"WAIT," Yasopp said. "ARE YOU SAYING—"
Absolute silence.
Even Monster the monkey dropped his banana.
Shanks groaned into his hands.
You dropped your forehead to the table with a loud thunk.
Then —
Shanks groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Fine. You win. Whatever."
Lime Juice’s grin split his face.
"Wait," Lucky Roux said, slowly connecting the dots. "Are you two actually—"
"YES," Shanks barked.
"FOR SIX MONTHS," you added miserably.
Dead silence.
Then all hell broke loose.
"WHAT THE HELL—"
"HOW?!"
"WHEN?!"
"WHY DIDN'T WE SEE IT?!"
"I THOUGHT THEY HATED EACH OTHER!" Yasopp screamed.
"BECAUSE THEY ACT LIKE THEY WANT TO KILL EACH OTHER!" Bonk Punch yelled.
"That’s called foreplay, Bonk," Lime Juice said helpfully.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Bonk Punch yelled..
Beckman just sighed like a man sixty years too old for this shit and took a long drag of his cigarette. "I'm gonna need another drink. Maybe ten."
The Aftermath
"You threw a chair at him last week!" Hongo yelled at you.
"It was flirting!" you shouted back.
"YOU BROKE A WINDOW!"
"IT WAS A SEXY WINDOW BREAK!"
Shanks just slung an arm lazily over your shoulder, laughing so hard he was hiccupping.
"So what," Shanks slurred, grinning. "You guys are just mad you didn't notice how hot we are together?"
"I'M MAD I HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT!" Yasopp howled.
Monster made gagging noises.
Lime Juice beamed with the pride of a man who had lit the match and dropped it into a fireworks factory.
You thought, maybe after the initial explosion, they’d move on.
You were wrong.
They would not shut up.
"So, Shanks," Yasopp smirked. "Who's on top?"
You hurled a bread roll at his head. He caught it and winked.
"Oh my god, did you guys bang in the crow’s nest?" Bonk Punch gasped.
"Don't answer that," Beckman muttered.
"You’re gonna answer that later, right?" Lucky Roux asked you, waggling his eyebrows.
"I’M LEAVING," you shouted, standing up so fast your chair toppled over.
Shanks caught your wrist, laughing. "Aw, come on, Y/N. You can't leave me alone to suffer."
"You’re the reason we’re suffering!"
"I call it mutual destruction, baby."
You kicked him lightly under the table. He kicked you back. Several of the crew made knowing noises.
Later — Peace (Sort of)
You slumped against the rail later that night, exhausted and mildly traumatized.
Shanks sidled up beside you, bumping his hip into yours.
"You still mad?"
"I’m plotting your death," you muttered.
He slung an arm around you, pulling you in.
"You love me."
"Unfortunately."
Across the deck, Lime Juice cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted: "USE A CONDOM NEXT TIME!"
You flipped him off so hard you nearly dislocated your wrist.
Shanks just roared with laughter, burying his face in your shoulder.
Maybe getting caught wasn't the worst thing after all. Not when you had this.
© ᵈᵒˡˡʸʷᵒⁿˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᶦᵛᶦᵈᵉʳˢ <³
O̲̅N̲̅E̲̅P̲̅I̲̅E̲̅C̲̅E̲̅ M̲̅A̲̅S̲̅T̲̅E̲̅R̲̅L̲̅I̲̅S̲̅T̲̅
ℛ𝓊𝓁ℯ𝓈
𝘉𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.
𝘕𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘙𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘢, 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘦𝘵𝘤., 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺.
𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴' 𝘋𝘕𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, (𝘐𝘧 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 — 𝘢𝘥𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦!)
𝘕𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 , 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦!, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘶𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘺.
ℛℯ𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓈𝓉 ℰ𝓉𝒾𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ
𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨! (𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘰 𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵!)
𝘉𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈 "𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦" 𝘢𝘯𝘥 "𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶" 𝘨𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘺.
𝘉𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 (𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦, 𝘦𝘵𝘤.), 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵!
𝘕𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵! 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦.
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸, 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴 — 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴!
𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦! 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘥.
𝘐𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴.
Quick a/n: 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘈𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘐 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨.
also special mention to the creator of these dividers<33
FLUFF ANGST ko-fi
S̲̅T̲̅R̲̅A̲̅W̲̅H̲̅A̲̅T̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 GIANT DUCK INCIDENT - luffy x gn!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Say something - strawhat x psychic!femreader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The Lost Reader - strawhat x gn!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 CLINGY MUCH? - Zoro x gn!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Got married by Accident… Thanks, Vegapunk? - luffy x gn!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Wait… Luffy’s WHAT?! - luffy x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Double Trouble - luffy x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 What Remains - strawhats x platonic gn! reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Smoke Break - sanji x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 One Month With You - strawhat x reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The Ones Who Stayed Silent - sanji x reader | angst | O.S
R̲̅E̲̅D̲̅H̲̅A̲̅I̲̅R̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 You punched a Yonko? - red hair pirates x fem!reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Fractures in the silence - shanks x reader | light angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 CLINGY MUCH? - shanks x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Flustered Fury - beck x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 - shanks x reader | fluff/slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Smoke Break - beck x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Six Months of Secrets, Five Minutes of Hell - shanks x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 One Month With You - red hair pirates x reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The Ones Who Stayed Silent - shanks x reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Trouble Walks In, and So Do You - shanks x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Six Months of Secrets, Five Minutes of Hell - shanks x reader | fluff | O.S
W̲̅A̲̅R̲̅L̲̅O̲̅R̲̅D̲̅S̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Perfect pair - mihawk x reader | fluff, v!ol3nce | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Strings in Crimson - doflamingo x reader | fluff, v!ol3nce | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 CLINGY MUCH? - mihawk x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Smoke Break - crocodile x reader | fluff/slight nsfw | O.S
W̲̅H̲̅I̲̅T̲̅E̲̅B̲̅E̲̅A̲̅R̲̅D̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸Sea Kings, Smart Mouths, and Stolen Hearts - whitebeard x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Clueless hearts and full plates - ace x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Where the Fire Lives - marco x oc | fluff/slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 I won't leave you - ace x sister! reader | slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Teach Tried It, I Survived It - Marco x reader | fluff/slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸Fractured Allegiance - marco x reader | slight angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Stuck on You - marco x reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 One Month With You - whitebeard pirates x reader | angst | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 The Ones Who Stayed Silent - ace x reader | angst | O.S
H̲̅E̲̅A̲̅R̲̅T̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Doctor Trafalgar, Love Expert? - law x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Confined Hearts - law x gn! reader | fluff | O.S
B̲̅I̲̅G̲̅ M̲̅O̲̅M̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Sugar & Spite - katakuri x reader | fluff | series, 3 chapters
B̲̅E̲̅A̲̅S̲̅T̲̅S̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Hot Springs, Hot Tempers - king x gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 King’s Helmet Mystery - king x gn! reader | fluff | O.S
K̲̅I̲̅D̲̅ P̲̅I̲̅R̲̅A̲̅T̲̅E̲̅S̲̅
M̲̅A̲̅R̲̅I̲̅N̲̅E̲̅S̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Clash of Fists and Hearts - young garp × gn! reader | fluff | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Smoke Break - smoker x reader | fluff/slight nsfw | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Frostbite and Witchcraft - aokiji x reader | fluff/slight nsfw | O.S ˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Captain for a Day - smoker x reader | fluff | O.S
C̲̅P̲̅9̲̅
˖°𓇼𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Secrets in Stone - CP9 x reader | fluff | O.S
requests are off for now
hi guys! just letting you know that, requests are not gonna be available for maybe a week(?) tho im not completely sure about the exact days. as for the reason, my exam is coming up and i need to study n such. but i will keep posting some of my drafts. also, i apologize for the people who already submitted a request. im afraid that its going to be postponed for a while, but don't worry it wont take that long, ill make sure to post it maybe in 2-3 days. and actually im brainstorming a one piece x modern reader (harem) series too, and im still contemplating whether i do it or no, coz i lose interest quickly. that's all! i hope you have a nice day! thank you for ur understanding!
Say something
Straw Hat Pirates with a newly recruited reader who has selective mutism, appears unassuming but is secretly op
Strawhats x psychic!femreader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT
tags: fluff, sfw, bit of angst(?)
a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs a bit cringe
words count:968
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
You weren’t used to crowds.
And right now, that was a problem—because you were very much in one. A particularly sweaty, loud, and increasingly hostile one. The Straw Hats had docked at a lively but rough port for supplies, and in an unfortunate twist of fate, you’d gotten separated from the crew while browsing a small weapons stall.
Now you were surrounded by a group of sneering pirates, each one more obnoxious than the last, forming a loose circle around you like a pack of hyenas smelling blood.
“Aww, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” one of them leered, waving a cutlass lazily at your side. “Cat got your tongue?”
“She ain’t said a word,” another said, voice thick with mockery. “Too scared, huh?”
“She’s shaking,” a third laughed. “Bet she can’t even hold a sword properly.”
They were right about one thing: you hadn’t spoken. But it wasn’t fear that silenced you—it was them. Strangers. Eyes. Loud voices demanding a reaction.
Your throat felt tight. The words—simple ones, just leave me alone—were locked behind a door your mind couldn’t open. So you did what you always did when this happened.
You stared.
Expression blank. Shoulders loose. Breathing calm.
The mask of silence you wore never failed to make people underestimate you.
And right on cue, the biggest of the group stepped forward, cocky and smug. “C’mon, sweetheart. Say somethin’. Just one word.”
You tilted your head and blinked at him slowly.
He leaned in closer, thinking you were cornered prey.
And that’s when he made his mistake.
He reached out—fingertips brushing your collarbone, tugging at your cloak—like you were some kind of doll to poke and prod.
You whispered, barely audible: “Don’t touch me.”
He blinked. “What was that—”
And then you moved.
—
The first crack was his ribs.
You didn’t look strong. That was your favorite part about this whole thing. Small frame, loose clothes, no visible weapon. You’d always been dismissed as fragile, silent, soft.
But that was before your elbow shattered the man’s chestplate and launched him backward into a fruit stand. The market screamed and scattered. In seconds, chaos erupted.
Two more charged at you from either side. You twisted—agile, fluid—and drove a sharp heel into one’s temple while catching the other’s blade between your fingers. Not even a scratch.
He stared at you in shock.
You smiled sweetly.
Then bent the sword in half like it was tinfoil.
“Oh, she’s weird,” one pirate shrieked.
“Demon!” another cried.
You crouched low and pressed your palm to the ground. There was a faint ripple of energy, subtle and shimmering. A deep hum thrummed beneath the earth. Then the cobblestones exploded, launching your remaining attackers into the air like popcorn kernels.
Psychic force, compressed and sharp like a blade of wind. You didn’t need to speak to cast—just focus. Just want.
—
Across the square, the Straw Hats had heard the explosion before they saw you.
“What was that?!” Usopp shouted, ducking behind Franky.
“I think the market’s being destroyed!” Nami yelled.
“Could be marines,” Sanji muttered.
“Could be her,” Zoro said suddenly, eyes narrowing.
“Huh?” Chopper squeaked.
Zoro didn’t answer. He was already walking toward the noise.
—
When they arrived, the square was in shambles.
Stalls crushed. Dust everywhere. Six pirates knocked out cold. A seventh trying to crawl away with only one shoe and his pride in pieces.
And you—standing alone in the middle of it all, clothes scuffed but otherwise untouched, casually spinning a small rock above your palm with lazy telekinesis.
You looked up when they approached. Your eyes locked with Luffy’s first.
You expected him to be surprised.
Instead, he beamed.
“THAT WAS AWESOME!” he yelled, running up to you like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time. “You exploded the GROUND!”
You blinked, unsure how to respond.
Zoro whistled low. “You’re stronger than you look.”
Nami was wide-eyed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
You shrugged, still spinning the rock.
Robin tilted her head, looking more curious than shocked. “Psychic ability,” she murmured. “Very rare. You must have excellent control.”
Sanji, meanwhile, was clutching his chest. “Mon dieu… she flipped a man with her foot. I am in love. I am ascending.”
You rolled your eyes.
Chopper scrambled up your shoulder, stars in his eyes. “Can you teach me that thing you did with the sword?!”
You raised a brow, then made the rock hover in front of him. He squealed in delight.
Usopp ducked behind Luffy. “Can she read minds?! Wait—can she read MY mind?!”
You smirked. Then deliberately looked at him and said nothing.
He screamed and ran behind a barrel.
And through it all, Luffy never stopped smiling.
—
Later, back on the Sunny, Luffy found you sitting at the railing, watching the sea. The sun was setting, sky turning to amber and pink. You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt him sit beside you.
You glanced at him, then looked away.
He leaned closer. “You okay?”
You nodded.
“You don’t talk a lot,” he said, not as a complaint, just a statement.
You shook your head.
“But you can.”
You hesitated. Then leaned in, gently cupping your hands around his ear.
“I only speak when it matters,” you whispered.
He grinned. “It mattered earlier?”
You nodded again.
He sat back, still smiling. “Good. Then I’ll wait. ‘Til it matters again.”
You stared at him for a second longer. Then reached out, flicked his forehead gently with a little psychic zap.
He flinched. “Hey!”
You didn’t reply. Just smirked.
He grinned wider.
“You’re cool shishishishi,” he said.
And you finally let yourself laugh—quiet, barely audible, but real.
They’d seen your power now. The cat was out of the bag.
But you still had a hundred secrets left to keep.
And the crew?
They were just getting started.
a/n: idk if its just me but i love an overpowered reader, especially if theyre psychic ><
King’s Helmet Mystery
What the hell is under King’s helmet? You're determined to find out. King’s patience? Running thin. Your schemes? Ridiculous. His reactions? Surprisingly flustered.
King X gn! reader | ONE SHOT
tags: fluff, sfw, ooc king, slight v!olence
a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe
word count: 1k
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
The day you joined the Beasts Pirates, you swore you’d never fall for anyone on the crew. They were all either terrifying, annoying, or both.
Then you saw King.
And more importantly—you saw his helmet.
It wasn’t love at first sight. No, it was curiosity. Burning, rabid, downright obsessive curiosity.
“Why do you always wear that helmet?” you had asked on day three of being around him.
King didn’t even look at you. “None of your business.”
So obviously, that meant game on.
Phase One: Casual Questions (Totally Not Interrogation)
You began with subtlety.
“Hey, King, don’t you get hot in that thing?” you asked, leaning on a crate next to him.
“I don’t feel it,” he replied flatly.
“Must be sweaty in there though.”
“No.”
“What if you get an itch?”
“I don’t.”
“…What if a bird poops on it?”
He turned his head slightly. “Why would a bird—?”
“Just saying. You’d never know. Could be walking around with mystery poop on your face all day.”
King walked away.
You followed.
Phase Two: Bribery
You slid a pristine box of limited-edition dango on the table.
“I’ll give you all of these if you just lift it. Half an inch. One second.”
“No.”
“I won’t even look!”
“You’ll look.”
“…You’re right, I would.”
King didn’t budge.
So you tried again with spicy sake, rare fruits, a handmade lava-resistant scarf, and even a knitted plush version of him that you personally stitched.
He didn’t even glance at them.
Though you did catch him later discreetly carrying the plush to his room.
Phase Three: Stealth Mission (Failed)
In the dead of night, you tiptoed through the dim corridors of Onigashima’s fortress. You had intel. King always removed his armor to sleep. You just needed a peek.
You pressed your ear against the sliding door of his room. Silent.
Then you slowly slid the door open and—
“Nice try,” King’s voice cut through the dark. You screamed.
He was still wearing the damn helmet in bed.
“I—okay, first off, do you SLEEP with that on?!”
“Yes.”
“…Do you shower with it?”
“Yes.”
You blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
King smirked under the helmet.
Or at least you imagined he did.
He always had that smug aura like he was eternally amused by your suffering.
You sulked for a week.
Phase Four: Drastic Measures
You made a PowerPoint presentation.
No, really.
You dragged King into the briefing room and stood in front of a projected slide that read “TOP 10 REASONS TO SHOW ME YOUR FACE (PLEASE).”
“I made charts,” you announced.
King just stood there, arms crossed, flames dancing on his back.
“Reason One: Friendship. Friends share secrets. Boom.”
“Not friends.”
“Okay, Reason Two: I’ve literally never told anyone your height, weight, wingspan, or bedtime even though I definitely know all of those things and could sell that info to fangirls.”
King tilted his head. “Do you have fangirls?”
You blinked. “We’re not talking about me.”
By Reason Six (“For Science!”) and Reason Nine (“Because I said pretty please”), King stood and left the room.
You considered it a soft win.
Phase Five: The Disguise Plan
You put on a replica of his armor.
“Guess what?” you said, stomping around dramatically. “I’m you now.”
King didn’t even look up from polishing his sword.
You strutted in front of him, wings flapping. “Look at me, I’m so cool. I’m scary. Ooooh, no one knows my face. I’ve got MYSTERIES.”
“You look ridiculous.”
“Thank you.”
He sighed. “You have work to do.”
“Oh? So does King! He needs to show me his face before I LOSE my mind.”
Still nothing.
But Sasaki did walk by and immediately drop his drink at the sight of you.
“Why are there two of them now?!”
King groaned.
You cackled.
Phase Six: Reverse Psychology (and Screaming)
“Y’know what?” you said over dinner one night, loud enough for the whole table to hear. “I don’t even care what King looks like. Probably has a dumb face.”
The whole table froze.
King looked up, one brow probably raised under the helmet.
“Maybe he’s got, like, two noses,” you continued, chomping down on a rice ball. “Or maybe it’s just all teeth. Like a shark. Disgusting.”
“Why are you so obsessed with him then?” Jack muttered.
“I’M NOT.”
You totally were.
“Maybe you’re just in love with him,” Queen teased.
You choked on your drink.
King stood up without a word and left the room.
You internally screamed.
Phase Seven: The Fluffy Flop
After months of trying, you finally gave up. You sat on a cliffside just beyond the fortress, legs dangling, wind whipping through your hair.
“I give up,” you sighed to no one. “Maybe he does have teeth for a face.”
“Doubt it.”
You yelped.
King landed next to you, wings folding.
You scooted a little.
“…Sorry if I annoyed you.”
“You do.”
You sighed.
But he stayed.
You sat in silence, watching the moonlight reflect off the water.
“…It’s not about hiding,” King said suddenly. “It’s about surviving.”
You turned your head, surprised.
“I don’t care what people think. But I care about what they do. Especially if they knew what I am.”
You stared at him.
And then, for once, you said nothing snarky. Just nodded. “Okay.”
The Day the Helmet Came Off
It was during a battle.
You got hit—hard—and thrown across the battlefield, crashing into debris.
Everything spun.
Then—flames.
You blinked up to see King standing over you, face uncovered, the pieces of his helmet cracked and steaming beside him.
“…Whoa,” you whispered.
He was beautiful.
Strong jaw, red markings, piercing golden eyes. Sharp, fierce. Yet soft. Not what you imagined.
“Are you okay?” he asked, kneeling beside you.
You blinked. “You—your face—”
“Don’t say anything.”
You nodded dumbly.
He helped you up, hand lingering on your waist longer than necessary.
You whispered, “Definitely not all teeth.”
King groaned.
.
.
.
He wore the helmet again the next day.
You didn’t push.
But when no one else was around, he lifted it just enough to let you see his eyes.
You grinned. “I knew you liked me.”
King rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”
You leaned in and kissed his cheek.
He didn't move away.
Mission accomplished.
And you didn’t even need PowerPoint this time.
Hot Springs, Hot Tempers
You and King accidentally end up in the same secluded hot spring. Cue awkward tension, steamy misunderstandings, and fluffy chaos.
King X gn! reader | ONE SHOT
tags: fluff, sfw, king being bad at flirting(?), ooc king, post-battle
a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe
word count: 1.2k
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
You had no idea the hot spring was co-ed.
Okay, to be fair, the old innkeeper had mumbled something about the “blessed harmony of nature,” but you’d tuned her out while ogling the steaming bath behind her. After all, after days of dodging explosions, clashing with marines, and nearly getting cooked alive by Kaido’s fire breath (which—honestly—should be illegal), you were in desperate need of a hot soak.
So, in you went.
Alone. Glorious. Gloriously alone. Or so you thought.
You sunk into the mineral-rich waters with a satisfied moan, stretching out your limbs like a boiled noodle.
“Finally,” you sighed. “Peace.”
And that’s exactly when you heard it—the sound of something massive stepping through the entrance behind you.
You froze mid-soak. Slowly turned your head.
And there he was.
King.
All 20-foot-something of him, broad shoulders covered in black scales and steam, towering at the threshold with his helmet already off, wings folded behind him like a damn mythical creature who forgot how personal space works.
He stopped, towel hanging over his shoulder, completely stone-faced as your eyes met.
“Oh no,” you said flatly, water sloshing around you.
King blinked. “...This is the private spring, isn’t it?”
You shot up, half-submerged. “I thought this was the solo spring!”
“You thought wrong.”
“You’re the one barging in here like some half-naked goth dragon!”
“I’m wearing a towel.”
“Barely!”
An awkward silence settled like fog on the water.
Then you noticed it—King’s expression faltering ever so slightly, as though realizing he had, in fact, just crashed a very vulnerable soak session.
“I’ll leave,” he muttered, turning on his heel with all the grace of a man who never once had to care about bathing etiquette.
“No, wait—ugh. Don’t.” You sighed, flopping back against the smooth rock ledge. “It’s fine. Let’s just pretend we’re two strangers in an awkward commercial.”
King paused. “A what?”
“Never mind.”
He stepped forward, water rippling violently with every heavy-footed motion, and settled into the far end of the spring. The opposite end. The farthest possible distance between you and his very large, very shirtless self.
Great. Now you had to pretend you weren’t occasionally glancing at his shoulders.
To be fair, you tried not to. But he was right there. With skin that shimmered like obsidian under the moonlight and muscles that made Greek statues look like soggy breadsticks.
And then he caught you looking.
You quickly looked away.
“I wasn’t—uh—I mean, nice... wings?” you blurted out.
His eyebrow raised. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
You groaned and covered your face. “I’m under pressure, okay?! You’re like—intimidating hot.”
King blinked. His cheeks, you could swear, colored faintly at the edges.
“Don’t call me hot.”
“Well don’t show up shirtless, glistening with steam like some overworked fanfic trope.”
A beat.
“…What’s a fanfic?”
“Forget it.”
Another silence.
Then, out of nowhere, King spoke. “I didn’t know you used hot springs.”
You side-eyed him. “I didn’t know you bathed.”
“I’m not a savage.”
“Well, jury’s still out.”
King huffed, turning his face slightly. For someone who once split a marine ship in two with his boot, he looked incredibly put out by your teasing. Almost pouty.
You smirked.
“Well, since we’re stuck here together… might as well enjoy it,” you said, leaning back against the stone and letting the warm water lull your muscles.
King tilted his head. “You’re not going to try anything stupid?”
“What, like seducing you with my wrinkly prune fingers?” you held up your soaked hands.
“…Yes.”
You snorted. “Please, you’d combust before anything happened.”
He grunted. “Fair.”
A few more moments passed. You dared peek again.
He was leaning back, steam coiling around his broad frame like silk, wings shifting with every subtle motion. You noticed he had a faint scar running along his collarbone—jagged, healed-over, and oddly… human.
“You have a scar,” you said before you could stop yourself.
King opened one eye lazily. “Observation. Noted.”
“No, I mean… I didn’t think Lunarians could scar.”
He was quiet for a beat. “I got it before the flame. Before I could heal.”
“Oh,” you murmured, eyes softening.
The mood quieted.
But then you, unable to help yourself, added: “...So you were a clumsy kid.”
He side-eyed you. “I fell from a sky cliff. That’s not clumsy. That’s survival.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m sure you looked very majestic doing it.”
“I did.”
You both cracked a small laugh. A real laugh.
And then—
SPLOOSH!
A wild monkey cannonballed into the spring.
You screamed. King leapt halfway out of the water with his wings flared.
“WHAT IN—?!”
The monkey screeched, flopped onto a rock, and began casually bathing itself with a smug little expression.
“…Are you serious?” you muttered.
King glared at the monkey. “It’s staring at me.”
You nudged closer. “Probably impressed by your wingspan.”
“Or your screaming.”
“Excuse me! That was a war cry of surprise.”
“I thought it was a kettle exploding.”
“You—!”
You were cut off by the monkey stealing your towel.
It yanked it from the side, chattered triumphantly, and bolted into the woods.
“HEY!!”
King, somehow, did not move to help. In fact, he looked… amused?
“Don’t you dare laugh,” you warned.
His lips twitched. “Consider it karma for calling me a ‘goth dragon’.”
You groaned and sank deeper into the water. “I’m gonna have to air dry now like a soggy noodle.”
“You’ll survive,” King said, voice warm with uncharacteristic amusement.
You both sat in steamy silence for a bit longer, the earlier tension melting with the mist.
After a few minutes, King shifted closer. Not much—just a foot or two. But it was enough to make your heart stutter.
“...You come here often?” he asked, in the most unintentionally awkward tone imaginable.
You blinked.
“…Are you hitting on me?”
“No,” he said too quickly.
You raised a brow. “That was absolutely a pickup line.”
“It was not.”
“You literally just asked, ‘do you come here often?’ in a secluded hot spring.”
“…Coincidence.”
You stared at him. He stared back.
Then—you burst out laughing.
“I can’t believe this. You’re terrible at flirting.”
King flushed. “I’m not trying to flirt.”
“Oh, no, of course not. That towel drop earlier was just an accident too, huh?”
“That was gravity’s fault.”
You giggled so hard you slipped slightly under the water, splashing like a drunk dolphin.
And then—you felt his hand.
Gentle. Large. Holding your elbow to steady you.
You froze.
He looked surprised at himself too, eyes wide like he hadn’t meant to do that.
But he didn’t pull away.
“…Thanks,” you mumbled, suddenly very aware of the fact that your face was burning hotter than the water.
King’s gaze softened. Just slightly.
“You’re welcome.”
You both stayed like that, too long, too close. Until—
“HEY!!” someone called in the distance. “Is the spring free yet?!”
It was Queen.
You and King jumped apart like teenagers caught making out behind the gym.
“I should go,” you said.
“Yes. Right.”
You stood up, realized you still didn’t have a towel, and groaned.
King turned his back with a surprising amount of respect. “Take mine.”
“…Wait, seriously?”
“You’ll catch a cold,” he muttered, ears slightly red.
You wrapped it around yourself, stunned silent for once.
As you left the spring, water dripping and heart racing, you dared glance back at King—still chest-deep in steam, gaze lowered, face unreadable.
But there was a faint curl to his lips. Almost like a smile.
You didn’t know what that meant. But you did know one thing:
You were definitely coming back to this spring.
And next time, you might just forget to bring a towel again.
Marshall D. Teach
When he faced Ace and defeated him, he was ready to hand him over to the Navy. But Ace's sister appeared, saving him at the last minute. Ace was almost unconscious, but he recognized his sister
Blackbeard recognized the young woman. He began to laugh, inviting her to join his crew. Before Perl could finish his sentence, a Navy ship fired at the pirates' ship. The young woman placed her brother on her shoulder and escaped.
a/n: hope u like it!~
I Won't Leave You
He never ran from a fight, and you would never run from him.
Ace x Sister!Reader
tags: angst, sfw, near-death experience, hurt/comfort, happy ending, v!olence
a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe
word count: 1.3k
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
The world smelled like blood, burning wood, and the sickening sweetness of betrayal.
You skidded to a halt at the edge of the clearing, heart hammering against your ribs as your eyes locked onto him — Ace — crumpled on the scorched deck, shirtless and broken under the heavy boot of Marshall D. Teach.
His skin was mottled with bruises, cuts, and blackened burns, the once-vibrant freckles on his shoulders drowned under smears of blood. His arms lay limp, wrists scorched raw from seastone cuffs. His chest, usually so strong and proud, rose and fell shallowly, each breath a struggle. He looked half-dead.
But it was the expression on his face that gutted you the most.
Even as Blackbeard sneered down at him, even as pain wracked his body, Ace’s jaw was clenched tight. His eyes, half-lidded but burning, glared up at his enemy with undying fury. He would never beg. He would never run.
“Ace...” you breathed, the name nearly crumbling in your mouth.
His head stirred weakly at the sound, barely lifting.
And then, he saw you.
A flicker — a raw, shattered light — flashed across his bloodshot eyes. His lips parted, like he wanted to call to you, to warn you, to tell you to run — but no sound came out. Only a broken, rasping cough as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“Oh-ho?” Blackbeard rumbled, turning, grinning like a madman. His teeth gleamed in the firelight. “Zehahahaha! Well, well, look what we got here! If it ain't the little sister."
You didn’t move. Your fists clenched at your sides until your nails cut into your palms.
Ace struggled weakly. "Y/N… run… he's—"
"Quiet, Ace." You didn’t even glance at him. "You’ve done enough."
You remembered Ace as a boy, standing battered in front of you after a fight, a black eye blooming across his face, fists still raised even as the odds towered against him.
"I don't care if they're bigger," he had said, bloody-nosed but grinning. "I’ll never run away in a fight. Not when it matters!"
Your throat burned.
“You got guts, girlie,” Teach chuckled, raising a thick, calloused hand. “Y’know... you could join me. Family stickin' together, huh? You're wasted on that washed-up old man Whitebeard.”
You didn't answer. You didn't blink. Your entire world had narrowed down to the battered figure barely holding on at Blackbeard’s feet.
Ace tried to move again, a hoarse growl clawing up his throat. His body shuddered violently, trying to rise, trying to shield you even now — even while seastone sucked the life from his veins, even while blood poured from open wounds.
Tears blurred your vision, but you forced them down.
You were his sister. You were Portgas D. Ace’s sister. You would not break.
Teach's mouth twisted into something cruel. "Come now, girlie. Don’t be stupid. Join me, and maybe I won’t hand your brother here to the marines. Zehahahaha!"
Ace, barely conscious, bared his teeth in a snarl. “Don’t... don’t listen to him..." he rasped, voice shredded. "Run... idiot... run...”
He could barely even lift his head. And still, he tried to protect you.
You snapped.
A roar shattered the air — but it wasn’t you. It was the Marines.
Cannonfire screamed past overhead, splintering the already-ruined deck. Shouts erupted as marines flooded toward the island. Panic rippled through the pirates.
In the chaos, Blackbeard turned to bark orders at his crew — and you moved.
Faster than thought, you sprinted across the ruined planks, heart in your throat. Ace saw you — and tried, gods, he tried — to push himself up to shield you, but his body gave out, collapsing with a low, agonized sound.
You dropped to your knees beside him.
“Ace,” you gasped, hooking an arm under his shoulders. His body was terrifyingly hot and terrifyingly heavy — the deadweight of someone clinging to life by a thread. He smelled like smoke, salt, and blood.
“No... y-you can't... stay,” he mumbled against your shoulder, trying to shove you away weakly. “Run... don't... don’t die here.”
You pressed your forehead against his burning temple.
“Shut up, you idiot,” you whispered fiercely. “I’m not leaving you. Never.”
Somewhere behind you, Blackbeard roared your name.
You didn't look back. You didn’t hesitate.
Grunting under his weight, you heaved Ace onto your back, wrapping his arms over your shoulders. His seastone-cuffed wrists dangled heavily across your chest. His bare chest was slick with blood against your back. You could feel every stuttering breath he fought for.
Memories crashed into you — Ace at ten years old, hauling you out of a river when you couldn’t swim; Ace at fifteen, punching three grown men to defend your name; Ace at seventeen, bleeding and laughing after fighting an entire gang because they "looked at you wrong."
"As long as I can stand," he had grinned, split-lipped and proud, "I’ll always protect you!"
You gritted your teeth, blinking away tears.
"You saved me all those times," you whispered. "Now it’s my turn."
The ship rocked violently as another cannonball struck.
You bolted.
Bullets whistled past you. Pirates cursed and shoved. Blackbeard’s furious roars echoed behind you. You didn't dare look back — every ounce of your strength was focused on one thing: getting Ace out alive.
He groaned faintly against your back.
"Hang on," you gasped, stumbling through smoke and chaos. "Just a little further, Ace. Please."
His fingers twitched weakly against your chest — like he was trying to hold onto you.
Like he was trusting you.
You made it to the edge of the ship — a rope ladder dangling wildly where a smaller escape skiff bobbed below. It would be risky. The seas were rough, the navy ships were closing in, and you had Ace’s full weight on you.
But you had no choice.
You tightened your grip on his legs, whispered a shaky apology — and jumped.
The impact rattled your bones, but somehow, you landed half-right in the skiff. Ace tumbled limply into the bottom of the boat, coughing raggedly.
You scrambled up, grabbed the oars, and shoved off with all the strength you had left.
Gunshots peppered the waves around you. Blackbeard’s enraged bellow tore through the smoke.
But you didn’t stop.
Ace’s eyelids fluttered weakly as the sea breeze hit him, cooling his feverish skin. He turned his head slightly toward you.
"...thought I told you..." he croaked, voice barely a whisper, "...not to... run into fights..."
You let out a half-hysterical, half-relieved laugh, tears streaking your face.
"And I thought I told you not to be a suicidal idiot," you shot back, rowing faster. "Guess we both suck at listening."
Ace gave a breathy, broken chuckle — then winced sharply, clutching his side.
You dropped the oar immediately, sliding down beside him. You pressed trembling hands to his ribs, feeling the jagged, shallow breaths rattling through him.
"Stay with me, Ace," you whispered fiercely, pressing your forehead against his. "Stay awake. Please."
He was silent for a long moment.
Then, in the faintest, rawest voice:
"...'course... I'm not going anywhere..."
He smiled — small, bloodied, stubborn as hell — the same way he had when he was a kid, swearing he'd protect you from the whole damn world.
Your heart shattered — and healed — in the same beat.
You pulled him into your arms as gently as you could, cradling his battered body against your chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the faint but steady beat of his heart.
The navy ships shrank behind you. The gunfire faded. The sea rocked you both like a lullaby.
You were safe. You had him. You weren’t letting go.
Not now. Not ever.
Later, drifting under the stars in the quiet safety of night, Ace mumbled something against your shoulder:
"Hey... thanks for coming back for me..."
You smiled through your tears, kissing his sweat-damp hair.
"I always will," you whispered. "You're my brother, Ace."
He sighed, heavy with exhaustion, but peaceful now.
"Love you, sis..."
Your arms tightened around him, protecting, promising.
"I love you too, Ace."
The sea carried you onward — battered, bleeding, broken — but alive. Together.
You had survived. And you would never, ever leave each other behind.
The Ones Who Stayed Silent
They thought you didn’t know—but you saw everything, said nothing, and walked away with a shattered heart and silent grace… only to be seen again, happy and healed, with someone who would never make you feel like the only one.
shanks x reader | sanji x reader | ace x reader | ONE SHOT
tags: angst, sfw, ooc, heartbreak, cheating, betrayal
a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff a bit cringe, akward, and confusing
word count: 3.9k
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
SHANKS
The sea was always loud around the Red Force. Wind in the sails, waves breaking across the bow, laughter from the crew. And yet, in moments like this — with your head tucked beneath Shanks’ chin and his arm wrapped around your waist — it felt like the whole world stilled just to let you breathe.
“You always sneak into my bed when it’s cold,” he teased, voice low and rough with sleep.
You smiled against his chest. “Because your furnace body hoards all the heat.”
“Furnace body,” he repeated with a chuckle, fingers drifting slowly down your spine. “You really know how to charm a man.”
“Mmhm. That’s why you keep me around.”
“Nah,” he murmured, lifting your chin with a curled finger. “I keep you around because you make everything better. Even the cold nights. Especially the bad ones.”
Your heart tightened with warmth. “Shanks…”
He leaned down and kissed you slow. Deep. Familiar.
“Love you, baby,” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours.
You didn’t say anything at first. You just melted into him, eyes fluttering shut.
“I love you, too.”
You didn’t realize the first warning sign had come days earlier — a moment you almost forgot.
You had been leaning over the railing, watching the stars reflect across the ocean when Shanks walked up beside you, his presence easy and radiant as always. You’d barely noticed the woman trailing behind him — one of the newer crew members, tall and silver-haired, her laugh like syrup as it spilled from her throat.
She was laughing at something he said. You didn’t catch the joke.
You gave him a look. Not angry. Just questioning.
He smiled and curled an arm around your shoulder like it meant nothing. “She’s new,” he explained casually. “Still getting used to the crew.”
“She seems to be adjusting just fine,” you replied.
He pulled you closer. “Hey. Don’t go getting jealous on me, baby.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Good.” He kissed your temple. “Because there’s no one else, alright? You know that.”
You nodded, even though a small part of you felt unsure.
He always made things feel safe again.
Three nights later, you brought him a drink in the captain’s quarters after dinner. He was at his desk, boots kicked up, talking with that same woman again — her knee pressed just slightly too close to his. They both looked up when you entered.
“Baby,” Shanks greeted, brightening immediately. “Perfect timing.”
She excused herself politely, offering a warm smile before slipping out the door. Shanks took the drink from your hand and tugged you into his lap without hesitation.
“She’s around a lot lately,” you said quietly.
“She’s an eager crewmate,” he shrugged, nuzzling into your neck. “What, you wanna get rid of her?”
“Don’t joke.”
“Hey.” His voice softened, and he turned your face to meet his. “There’s nothing going on. I promise. You believe me, right?”
“…Yeah.”
His lips brushed yours, slow and certain. “You’re the only one I want, baby. Always.”
You leaned into the kiss, letting the reassurance sink in.
Still, that night, you couldn’t fall asleep right away.
You started noticing more of it after that.
The way her eyes lingered on him when she thought you weren’t looking. The shared laughs during dinner. The time you caught her slipping out of his cabin early in the morning — she claimed she’d been dropping off maps.
You wanted to believe him. You tried.
But the ache in your chest started to bloom quietly. Slowly.
A small doubt that pressed harder with each soft “baby” he whispered — the very word that used to feel like a prayer now sounded like a lie.
Still, you said nothing.
You waited. You watched.
And then… you saw everything.
It was almost midnight when you approached his quarters.
You held a small cloth bundle in your hands — a gift you'd picked up from a small island earlier that week. A pair of rare sea-glass earrings. He’d admired them in passing. You wanted to surprise him.
You opened the door without knocking.
And there she was.
Her fingers tangled in his red hair. His lips trailing down her neck. His voice — low, teasing, affectionate.
“You feel so good, baby…”
You froze.
He didn’t see you.
You didn’t speak.
You just stood there. Long enough to burn the image into your mind. Long enough to feel your throat close, your heartbeat stutter, your entire body go numb.
Then, quietly, you closed the door.
You dropped the earrings into the sea later that night.
You didn’t sleep that night.
You sat on the edge of your bed for hours, staring at the moonlight bleeding through the porthole, your chest hollow, your limbs heavy. There were no tears. No rage.
Just silence.
You kept replaying his words — not the ones he said to her, but the ones he said to you.
“There’s no one else, baby. You’re the only one I want.”
Each lie sounded sweeter than the last.
You didn’t go to him. You didn’t want an apology. You didn’t want to hear his mouth twist the truth into something manageable. Because now you knew — every time he held you, he’d already chosen someone else.
So you wrote.
Your hand trembled at first. But as the words poured out, your chest began to lighten — like you were finally breathing again.
Shanks, I hope this letter finds you — though I know it will, because I’m leaving it on your bed. Right where I used to sleep. Right where she’s probably sleeping now. I saw you. I saw the way you touched her. The way you said “baby” like it still meant something. The same way you said it to me just days ago — when you kissed me good morning, when you laughed in my arms. It used to make me feel special. Now, it just makes me feel stupid. You told me not to worry. That she meant nothing. That I was the only one. You were so good at saying it. So gentle. So convincing. I wanted to believe you — God, I did. Because I loved you more than anything. More than reason. More than pride. But you looked at her the way you used to look at me. And I can’t forget that. So I’m leaving. Not because I want to hurt you. Not even because I hate you. But because I can’t stay and pretend I’m enough for you when you already decided I wasn’t. I hope the sea gives you peace. I hope you find what you’re looking for. And I hope — one day — you realize what you threw away. Because I would’ve given you everything. But now? Now, I’ll give myself the one thing you never could. Freedom. Goodbye, — Y/N
You left before sunrise.
The docks were quiet, the crew asleep, and your bag packed light. No goodbyes. No farewells. You just vanished — like mist over the sea.
Shanks woke with a lazy grin, his arm stretched across the bed to pull you closer—
But there was no one there.
Only the rustle of sheets. The ghost of warmth.
He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. Maybe you were getting breakfast. Or with the crew.
Then he noticed it: a small folded note on the pillow.
His name written in your handwriting.
His heart dropped before he even opened it.
And when he did…
The world collapsed.
He read every line once. Then again. Slower. Disbelieving.
“I saw you.” “You called her ‘baby.’” “You told me I was the only one.”
He was up in seconds, barefoot and shirtless, bursting through his cabin door.
“Y/N?!” His voice echoed down the corridor. “Y/N, wait—!”
No answer.
He stormed toward your room — empty. Searched the deck — nothing. Sprinted to the galley, the crow’s nest, the storage bay. Every familiar hiding spot. Every place you used to sit and smile at him like he was the only thing in your world.
“Have you seen Y/N?” he asked the crew, trying to keep his voice level.
“No, Captain,” came the confused reply. “Did something happen?”
He didn’t answer.
He barged back into the woman's quarter slamming the door behind him.
The woman — the one he’d betrayed you with — was still pulling on her coat lazily, as if nothing had happened.
“Hey, what’s all the noise—?”
“Get out.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I said get the hell out.” His voice was low, ragged, dangerous.
She laughed nervously. “Shanks, don’t be dramatic—”
“Out!” he roared, slamming his fist into the desk. The wood splintered. The room shook.
She scrambled, nearly tripping over herself as she fled.
And just like that, the silence returned.
He sank into the nearest chair, the note trembling in his hand.
You looked at her the way you used to look at me. I would’ve given you everything. Now, I’ll give myself the one thing you never could. Freedom.
Shanks closed his eyes, forehead resting on the crumpled page.
He tried to remember the last time he said he loved you — the last time you laughed in his arms. The last time you looked at him without doubt.
He’d called you baby with the same mouth that whispered it to someone else.
And now he couldn’t even call your name without shame.
The Red Force had never felt so quiet.
And Shanks had never felt so empty.
You found work on a merchant vessel at first. Later, you traveled alone. You didn’t speak of him. You didn’t speak of you. You let time do what it does best — wear grief down to a dull ache.
Until one day, someone else came into your orbit.
Dracule Mihawk was not the kind of man who chased after affection. But he noticed you — the quiet way you watched the world, the grief you wore like armor, the strength you didn’t flaunt.
He didn’t ask for your story. He just stayed long enough for you to offer it.
And when you did, he listened.
He didn’t make you promises. He didn’t call you “baby.” He simply treated you like you mattered.
He touched you with reverence. Looked at you with intention.
Loved you without lies.
And somehow, that was enough.
A Year Later
The festival lights painted the harbor gold, laughter echoing between stalls and taverns as music played softly in the distance. You walked beside Mihawk, his coat draped over your shoulders, your fingers laced with his.
You smiled — a real, easy thing — as he said something dry and clever under his breath, pulling a laugh from you. You leaned into him without thinking.
Then you felt it.
That weight. That familiar gravity.
You turned your head and saw him.
Shanks.
Standing beneath a lantern near the docks, cloaked in shadow but unmistakably there. His red hair tousled by the wind. His body frozen.
His eyes — wide, stunned, hollow — locked on yours like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
You didn’t flinch.
You didn’t look away.
You simply turned slightly toward Mihawk and pressed your lips softly to his cheek, your hand never leaving his. Mihawk didn’t ask. He didn’t have to. His grip on you tightened just slightly, grounding you.
Shanks took a step forward.
But then… he stopped.
His mouth opened like he might speak — but no words came. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t arrive a year too late.
So you let the silence say it all.
You gave him one last look. Calm. Final. Then you turned and walked away, leaving him rooted to the edge of the world he once ruled.
He had seen a thousand sunsets at sea. Watched a thousand tides roll in. Weathered storms and battles and death itself.
But nothing ever gutted him like seeing you again — whole, radiant, untouchable.
You weren’t sad anymore.
You weren’t his anymore.
You had Mihawk. And Shanks could see it in every step, every touch, every soft smile you gave the other man — the peace he once swore to protect, now in someone else’s hands.
And the worst part?
You didn’t hate him.
You just didn’t care anymore.
And that, somehow, hurt more than any scream or slap ever could.
He stood there long after you disappeared into the crowd. Alone. Cold. Remembering the way your voice used to sound when you whispered, “I love you.”
And for the first time in his life, Shanks had no idea how to get something back.
Because you were gone.
And you weren’t coming back.
SANJI
The sun kissed the shores of a quiet island nestled along the Grand Line, where the Straw Hat crew had docked for rest and resupply. You sat on a small stone wall beside Sanji, a paper cone of roasted chestnuts between you, your legs swinging gently. His hand brushed yours now and again, but he never held it. You never said anything about that.
“Try this one,” he said, lifting a particularly dark, caramelized chestnut to your lips. You laughed and leaned forward to take it, but he tugged it back teasingly. “Say please.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Please, my oh-so-generous chef.”
“That’s more like it,” he grinned, letting you take it before resting his chin in his hand, eyes soft. “How did I get lucky enough to end up with someone like you, huh?”
The words stung.
Because you’d started to notice the way he said the same line to other women when he thought you weren’t listening. When he thought your back was turned. When you were supposedly out with Nami and Robin.
But you smiled. You always did. That’s what love looked like, didn’t it? Smiling even when your chest cracked.
Later that evening, the crew checked into a humble inn on the island’s edge. Nami and Robin wanted to browse the market, and they invited you along, but your head hurt and your heart hurt more, so you declined.
“Don’t wait up, we might stay out late,” Nami warned with a wink.
You waved them off and headed to your shared room with Sanji, telling yourself you’d rest, maybe write in your journal, maybe stop thinking about how the past few weeks felt like soft unraveling.
But Sanji wasn’t there. And the window was open. You stepped closer and overheard his voice—soft, but excited.
“…She’s out shopping. We should hurry before she comes back.”
Your heart dropped.
You froze in place, hand still resting on the windowsill. Another voice answered, female, flirty. You didn’t need to see her to know.
You sat on the bed and waited. You waited because you needed to see his face when he walked through that door. Needed to see what kind of lie he’d come up with. Needed confirmation for the truth you already knew.
It was nearly midnight when the door creaked open. Sanji looked surprised, almost guilty—but he caught himself too quickly.
“Oh—you're still up, my love?” he said smoothly. “Sorry, I thought you went out with the girls.”
You didn’t answer. You just looked at him.
He walked over and sat beside you on the bed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You okay?”
Still, silence.
He blinked, then tilted his head in concern. “You’re quiet tonight.”
You smiled. That same practiced smile you always wore. “Just tired.”
Sanji kissed your forehead and stood to change into his nightshirt, humming something under his breath. As if nothing had happened.
You left the next morning.
No confrontation. No fight. No angry tears.
Just a note.
Sanji, You used to look at me like I was your world. I should’ve known you just liked seeing your reflection in mine. I don’t even know what to say. I thought I knew you. I thought we had something. I thought you were different. But I know now—don’t I? I heard your words—your promises. You said, “We should hurry, while she’s out.” I never thought you could do this. Not to me. Maybe I’ve always been too trusting. Maybe I’ve been a fool. You lied with the kind of smile that made me question if I imagined it all. But I didn’t. I’m not mad. I’m heartbroken—there’s a difference. And the saddest part is, I would’ve forgiven you if you’d just told me the truth. But you let me rot in love alone. Don’t look for me. This is me leaving. Goodbye, Sanji. — Y/N
He found the note before breakfast. He read it once. Twice. Then again, each time slower. Robin noticed his shaking hand. Zoro asked where you were. Sanji couldn’t speak.
By midday, he was running through the island streets. Every alley. Every stall. He asked locals. Showed them your sketch.
No one had seen you.
You were gone. Completely. Like you’d never been there at all.
One Year Later
Rain lashed the docks of a bustling medical harbor. The Thousand Sunny had taken damage, and they stopped at a renowned doctor’s island to repair and rest.
Sanji didn’t smile as much these days. He still flirted, but half-heartedly, like a ghost of who he once was. Everyone noticed. No one said much.
He stood at the market stalls, bartering for fresh seafood when his heart stopped.
Because he saw you.
Hair a little longer. A warm coat drawn around your shoulders. Eyes brighter than they had any right to be.
You were laughing.
And beside you stood Trafalgar Law, umbrella tilted above you both, hand casually resting on your back as he pointed to a bouquet of herbs.
Sanji dropped the fish.
He couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
He watched as you reached for Law’s hand, how he intertwined your fingers like it was second nature, like he had every right to. How you smiled at him like Sanji had only ever dreamed of.
Law said something, and you leaned into him, nodding, face soft with affection.
Sanji turned away.
He made it two steps before the weight in his chest buckled him. He stumbled into an alley and pressed a hand against the wall, gasping.
Tears fell freely.
He didn’t go back to the ship until sunset.
That night, there was another note. Not from you, but written long ago. One he’d found after too much wine.
A passage you’d once written in your journal, now burned into his mind.
“You called me baby like I was the only one. But I wasn’t. I was just the only one who stayed.”
ACE
Smoke curled into the sky like ghosts of promises you once believed. The air on Karavel Island was thick with ash and gunpowder—another battlefield in Ace’s chaotic, flame-laced life. But this was your life, too. You’d followed him here. Again.
“Over here!” Ace called, waving at you through the debris with a wide grin, flames dancing around his arms. “Bet you can’t beat my body count today!”
You rolled your eyes but jogged toward him anyway, heart tugging like it always did. He looked good with soot smudging his cheek and fire lighting up the storm in his eyes. Alive. Dangerous. The kind of man who kissed like the world was ending—and maybe it always was.
“You burn it all down yet?” you teased, reaching his side.
“Nah, was waiting for you,” he said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Where’s the fun without you?”
And for a second, it was perfect.
Until that second ended.
It was the small things. Always the small things.
The way he took longer and longer to return from missions. The way he stopped writing when he was gone. The way he still called you “baby,” but his eyes didn’t stay on yours for long.
You didn’t want to doubt him. Not Ace. Not the man who held you when you cried, who called you his home.
But then came the night at the underground tavern.
You were helping a wounded civilian upstairs when you heard it—his voice, muffled, laughing. A giggle answered him. A girl’s voice. Slurred. Familiar.
You paused on the stairwell, heart already sinking.
“…Come on,” Ace’s voice teased. “We don’t have much time.”
Your breath caught.
“I shouldn’t,” she whispered back.
“You’re the one who kissed me first,” Ace said, and your world tilted.
Silence.
Then another giggle.
Then the sound of lips meeting.
You didn’t move. Couldn’t. Not even when the world twisted inside you. Not even when the lantern on the wall flickered like it knew the fire inside you had gone out.
You didn’t say anything when he came back to your shared room that night.
He acted normal—like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just touched someone else and then come to lie beside you.
You stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.
In the morning, you were gone.
Ace, You once told me that fire doesn’t choose what it burns—it just does. I used to think that was poetry. Now I know it was a warning. You burned me, Ace. Not all at once. Just a little every day until I didn’t recognize my own heart anymore. I heard you. I saw you. And I still kissed you goodnight. Do you know what that does to a person? I gave you all of me, and you gave little pieces of yourself to strangers. I don’t hate you. I never could. But I can’t love you for both of us anymore. Don’t come looking for me. This is goodbye. — Y/N
The message was short. But it broke him anyway.
Ace stood in the ruins of the tavern, your letter clutched in his hands, his body shaking in a way fire couldn’t fix. He lit it aflame. Watched it turn to ash like everything else he touched.
He ran. Looked for you in every port. Asked the Revolutionaries. Asked pirates. Asked anyone.
You were gone.
One Year Later
It was raining in Yamabuki Port, but Ace stood still in the downpour, unmoving. The Whitebeard Pirates were resupplying, but he couldn’t focus—not when he saw you through the mist.
You were laughing.
Your coat was soaked, and your hair stuck to your forehead, but you looked so alive. So whole.
And beside you stood Zoro.
The swordsman from the Straw Hat crew — his brother's crew.
He was holding a paper umbrella above your heads, a quiet look in his eyes as he listened to whatever story you were telling. When you stumbled slightly in the mud, he caught your elbow. You smiled at him with a softness Ace had never earned.
Zoro reached up and brushed your hair from your face like it was second nature. You leaned into his touch without hesitation.
Ace felt it all in his gut. Like a blade through fire.
He didn’t approach.
Didn’t call your name.
Didn’t move.
You glanced across the square and your eyes met.
Just for a moment.
There was no hatred in your gaze. No anger.
Only peace.
You looked away.
And Ace knew—he was watching a version of you he’d never get to meet.
That night, Marco found him sitting alone on the deck, soaked to the bone even though the rain had stopped hours ago.
“You saw them, didn’t you-yoi?” Marco asked quietly.
Ace didn’t answer. Just stared at his hands.
“I thought I had time,” he whispered. “I thought… I could fix it.”
Marco said nothing. There was nothing to say.
Because some fires don’t go out.
They just move on without you.
maybe i need a whole fic with luffy x reader married now... i'm not charging you, maybe i'm just in love with your writing
a/n: thank u <3 hope u like this~
Wait… Luffy’s WHAT?!
Luffy reunites with his childhood sweetheart, who also happens to be his secret spouse. The crew thought he was joking… until they weren’t laughing anymore.
LUFFY X GN!READER | ONE SHOT
tags: fluff, sfw, ooc, marriage, reader is opposite of luffy
a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe
word count: 1.3k
masterlist | ko-fi
: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
The Thousand Sunny drifted through the final tunnel, water glistening against its protective bubble as Fishman Island came into view.
“WOAAAH!” Luffy yelled from the deck, eyes wide. “It’s so shiny!”
“I can’t believe it’s real!” Chopper spun around.
Robin smiled behind a hand. “The architecture here is said to be older than the Grand Line itself.”
“I heard the royal family is pretty generous,” Nami added. “If we play this smart, we could stock up for weeks.”
But Luffy? His mind was somewhere else entirely. Or rather, on someone.
He leaned against the rail, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
“I wonder if they’re here…”
“LUFFY, GET BACK HERE, YOU CAN’T JUST–!”
“NAMI!, I SMELL MEEAAT!”
He was already gone. Sprinting like a man possessed through the bustling bubble streets of Fishman Island, eyes wide, tongue out, arms flailing in glee.
“Captain,” Robin said with a small smile, “seems excited.”
“He's always excited,” Zoro muttered, arms crossed. “But this time he’s extra stupid.”
Brook hummed thoughtfully. “Yohohoho, I wonder if the meat will marry him too.”
“Wait, did you say marry?” Usopp blinked. “Oh yeah! Didn’t Luffy say he was married once?”
“…Didn’t we all think he was joking?” Franky asked, brows raised.
“Yeah,” Chopper added with a little snort. “He said something like ‘I already got a wife, and they’re way stronger than all of you!’ and we just laughed.”
The crew exchanged glances.
“…You think he was serious?”
MEANWHILE.
Luffy skidded around the corner, bonking a coral lamp post with his forehead. “Ow–!”
“Still no sense of direction?”
He froze.
That voice.
He knew that voice like the back of his hand — or the taste of meat. Slowly, his wide eyes turned toward the source.
There, standing with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, was you.
Stoic, calm, one eyebrow raised, and totally unamused as always.
“Y/N!!” Luffy beamed, bolting toward you. “Y/N Y/N Y/N! YOU'RE HERE!!”
Before you could scold him, he’d wrapped you in a tight hug that nearly knocked you back.
“Still a hugger as usual, huh?” you mumbled, eyes softening just a bit.
“Missed you! SHISHISHI,” he grinned into your shoulder.
“You saw me six months ago,” you said, deadpan.
“Yeah!, but that’s like…so long!!”
You sighed, though your hand was already resting on his back, grounding the chaotic ball of sunshine that had stolen your heart all those years ago.
“…You never change.”
FLASHBACK - Windmill Village
“You’re so noisy.”
“C’mon Y/N, let’s go punch that tree again!”
Putting your book down, you sat with your arms folded, watching as young Luffy jumped up and down with excitement, a stick in his hand like it was the strongest sword in the world.
“We’ll get stronger together! Then we’ll go on adventures and eat meat every day!”
You blinked. “That’s your dream?”
“Yup! What’s yours?”
You shrugged. “I don’t have one.”
“Then make one with me!”
You raised an eyebrow. “Make a dream with you?”
He nodded seriously. “We can share. Like best friends. Or… like married people!”
“…That’s not how marriage works.”
“Then I’ll change the rules!”
You stared at him.
“…Fine.”
“Hey, Y/N.”
“What now.”
“If we ever get married, can I still eat meat at the wedding?”
You looked up from your book. “Obviously. I won’t marry someone who doesn’t love meat.”
He blinked, surprised. “So you will marry me?”
You went back to reading. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t.”
His heart exploded like fireworks.
BACK TO PRESENT
“Wait,” Sanji whispered from the side of the plaza, crouched with the rest of the crew behind some candy-colored seaweed. “Is that them?! MELLORINEE~~”
“THEM?!” Usopp whispered. “You know them?!”
“I’ve heard rumors,” Sanji sighed dreamily. “That’s Y/N — calm as the sea before a storm. Feared in the Grand Line and cold-hearted~"
“Yeah, but they’re…” Chopper tilted his head. “Letting Luffy carry them like a backpack right now.”
“Are they… cuddling?” Zoro’s eye twitched. “In public?”
“I’m SUPER! emotionally confused,” Franky muttered.
“Yohohoho,” Brook said softly. “So our captain is… married.”
“And he was serious,” Robin added, intrigued.
Luffy still hadn’t let go. You were currently being dragged around the island as he loudly pointed at every fish-person, street food stall, and bubble coral with endless excitement.
“Look, Y/N, look!! That octopus is playing drums!!”
You nodded. “Mm.”
“And that shark guy has THREE swords!”
You blinked. “Impressive.”
“Oh! That candy shop sells meat-lollipops!! Want one?”
“…Fine.”
He gasped, eyes shining. “You said yes! You never say yes to candy!”
“It’s for you, dumbass.”
He beamed so hard it could’ve powered the Sunny.
LATER, WITH THE CREW
“LUFFY!!”
He turned mid-bite of his meat-lollipop. “Huh?”
“WHAT. IS. GOING. ON?!” Nami shrieked.
You were sitting beside him, sipping seaweed tea calmly. “Can I help you?”
“YEAH, YOU CAN EXPLAIN HOW YOU’RE—MARRIED TO LUFFY?!”
He tilted his head. “I told you guys already.”
“YEAH BUT YOU SAID IT WHILE EATING A SEA KING LEG!!”
Franky pointed dramatically. “That’s not the time for SUPER confessions, bro!”
You raised a hand. “We’ve been married for years. It’s just not something we flaunt.”
“…You married Luffy. As in legal.”
“Technically yes. I still have the officiation snail photo. Luffy drew a mustache on it.”
“HE LOOKED SO FUNNY!! SHISHISHI” Luffy grinned, remembering it fondly.
“WHAT ABOUT YOUR PERSONALITY?! YOU’RE THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE!” Usopp flailed.
You stared at him. “What about it?”
“I dunno!! It’s just… Luffy’s sunshine! You’re like… moonlight. That can kill people.”
Zoro finally snapped. “Okay, no offense, but how do you even deal with him?”
You sighed, placing a hand over Luffy’s head as he practically melted beside you.
“…I’ve dealt with worse than a meat-goblin with a hero complex and zero sense of personal space.”
“That’s me!!” Luffy said proudly.
Robin giggled. “You really are opposites.”
“They’re so cool,” Sanji whispered, nose bleeding. “They’re scary. But like, in a hot way~”
“Are you crushing on our captain’s spouse?!” the crew hissed.
“Can’t help it~”
LATER THAT NIGHT ON THE SUNNY
You sat at the edge of the deck, legs dangling above the water, watching the glowing sea beneath.
Luffy flopped beside you, resting his head in your lap like he always did when the sky was quiet.
“You’re really okay with all this attention?” you asked, fingers brushing his hair.
“Mmhmm. Why wouldn’t I be?”
You raised an eyebrow. “You never cared about showing people.”
“I didn’t think I had to. You're mine. That’s already the best thing ever.”
Your hand paused. Then resumed slowly.
“You’re still dumb.”
He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m your dumb.”
“…Yeah. You are.”
He yawned, curling closer. “Remember the promise we made?”
“Which one? You made a lot.”
“The one about sharing dreams.”
You looked up at the stars. “Yeah. I remember.”
“I still wanna do that. Even if it’s dumb. Even if I die trying.”
You tapped his forehead.
“You won’t die. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
NEXT MORNING — FISHMAN ISLAND MARKET
“I WANT TO BUY THAT ONE!”
“Luffy, that’s a pearl the size of a cannonball.”
“I WANT IT!!”
You pinched the bridge of your nose.
“Luffy, if I have to carry another crate of your ‘souvenirs’ I will drown you.”
He gasped. “Y/N!! That’s mean!”
“…You like that.”
“I DO!”
“Ew, please stop flirting where I can hear you,” Nami groaned as she walked by.
Zoro muttered, “Every time I think they’ll kill each other, they end up flirting again.”
“Do you think they’ll ever kiss in front of us?” Chopper asked innocently.
Sanji's eye turned into fire. “NO WAY! I'LL KICK YOU! YOU DAMN MONKEY!!!"
“Luffy, stop licking the pearl.”
“You know,” Robin said later that evening, watching you drag Luffy back from trying to arm-wrestle a sea king, “they’re oddly perfect together.”
“Opposites attract,” Franky nodded.
“They’re like fire and ice,” Brook added.
“More like hyper gremlin and emotionless murderbot,” Nami muttered.
“…Still somehow works,” Zoro said.
Sanji sobbed. “WHEN WILL MY TURN COME?!"
.
.
— A FEW DAYS LATER
“Hey, Robin,” Usopp whispered as the ship cruised along the current.
“Yes?”
“…Do you think we should throw them a wedding party?”
She sipped her tea. “I think if you try, you’ll die.”
“Right.”
“Besides,” she added, glancing at the couple watching the sunset at the bow of the ship, Luffy wrapped around you like a sleepy octopus, “I think they already had the only wedding they needed.”
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