Summary: A lost bundle of Bubble Silk quietly ties your lives together until fate gives Killer the chance to keep a promise he made to himself.
A/N: Okay so I may have gone overboard, this was originally supposed to end at the first meeting, but I had too many ideas. Also, I have just gotten to Wano, I know what happens I just haven't watched it yet, so what happens in Wano is kept vague.
Masterlist
The Sabaody Archipelago was a massive mangrove forest with roots reaching into the sea floor, all around bubbles drifted through the air, and every street seemed to lead into another market packed with locals, marines, bounty hunters, pirates, and merchants trying to make as many berries as possible before sunset.
The Straw Hats had finally docked. Usopp, Franky, and Sanji were going to stay on the Sunny so Usopp and Franky could make some repairs while Sanji guarded the treasure. Zoro went off own his claiming the numbers of the grove would help him find his back. Meanwhile Luffy, Nami, Chopper, Robin, and Brook went to tour the island with Hatchan, Camie, and Pappag acting as tour guides around the grove before taking them to the ship coater that Hatchan knew.
But you, on the other hand, decided to head to a merchant that Pappag had mentioned to you. You were looking for a special type of fabric made exclusively only Sabaoby.
"I'll meet up with you guys later," You slinging your fabric bag over your shoulder. "I just need one thing."
"Nami said that about shopping once," Usopp muttered. "It turned into eight hours."
"It was important!" Nami snapped going to hit Usopp who quickly hid behind Zoro.
You laughed at the sight, "Well the deals she got were really good, but I really need to get the fabric that Pappag told me about."
"Just be careful, there are a marines and bounty hunters crawling all over the place." Pappag called out as you headed off the ship.
"Don't worry, I will! You guys too!" You shouted backing waving goodbye to the crew.
The narrow streets of grove were even busier than you expected. The bubbles drifted lazily overhead reflecting rainbows across polished wood walkways beath your feet. Vendors shouted over one another, advertising everything from handcrafted shell jewelry to exotic fish, strange fruits, and bubble-powered gadgets.
You tightened your grip on the worn fabric satchel hanging from your shoulder. "The shop has a blue shell hanging above the entrance," Pappag had told you before everyone split up. "Old lady Mero runs it. If anyone has Bubble Silk, it'll be her."
Bubble Silk was fabric unique to Sabaody, spun from the silky strands harvested from the mangrove tree leaves before being woven into cloth. The fabric was lightweight, nearly impossible to stain, and surprisingly durable. It was also expensive and difficulty material to work with; most clothing makers would avoid using it. But you weren't one to shy away from a challenge; your head was already spinning with ideas of piece you could make for the crew.
After weaving through another crowded marketplace, you spotted the sign. A faded blue shell swung gently above a narrow storefront tucked between a perfume shop and a bubble bike repair stand. As you pushed open the door, a tiny bell chimed and once the door shut behind you the noise of the marker disappeared almost instantly.
Bolts of fabric lined every wall from floor to ceiling, cottons, silks, velvet-like weaves, shimmering fish-leather, and dozens of colorful textiles you'd never seen before, and behind a wooden counter sat an elderly woman wearing tiny spectacles.
Without looking up from the embroidery piece she was working on, she spoke. "Pirate?"
"Yeah." You nod while approaching closer to the counter.
"Tailor?"
"How'd you know?" You asked, the old lady had yet to look up at you.
She smiled, looking up at you, "Your fingers plus the pin cushion." You glanced down noticing the faint needle pricks along your fingertips and the pin cushion you had forgotten to take off after fixing Sanji's suit jacket earlier that day. "You've made clothes."
You smiled sheepishly. "A few."
"A few," she repeated with a knowing chuckle. "The good ones always say that." She slowly stood setting the piece aside and adjusting her glasses, "So, you came for Bubble Silk."
You blinked. "Is it that obvious?"
She laughed warmly before disappearing through a curtain into the back room and a minute later she returned carrying several neatly folded bundles. Each one shimmered faintly as bubbles floated across its surface. The fabric came in a variety of shades, seemingly reflecting the light in the shop and the other bolts of fabric. There was silver, a deep ocean blue, pearl white, soft lavender, emerald green, and even black, though tiny rainbow reflections danced across it whenever it caught the light.
Your eyes widened. "Wow, it is beautiful."
She gently laid them across the counter. "Feel them."
The cloth was impossibly smooth, as if you were able to touch a bubble and not have it pop. It was light as air and cool to the touch, but somehow stronger than heavy canvas. "This is incredible."
"It is." She nodded proudly. "Harvested only from these mangroves."
You were already mentally planning half a dozen outfits, maybe a lighter travel coat, new outfits for the whole crew, perhaps something for... the bell above the door chimed again snapping you out of your thoughts. You glanced over your shoulder and watched as several rough looking men entered, pirates most likely. Judging from the matching armbands and visible weapons, they belonged to the same crew. Your brain tried to flip through all the bounty posters you had seen trying to piece which one. One noticed the Bubble Silk immediately. "Oho..." He grinned. "That's the expensive stuff."
Another elbowed him. "We don't exactly have the money."
"So?" The first pirate shrugged. "We're pirates."
The old shopkeeper sighed. "Not again..."
The pirate reached for one of the folded bundles. Your hand landed on it first, pulling it away from the man. "I was buying that."
The pirate slowly looked toward you, then at your hand, then back up again with a smirk tugging his lips. "You plan on stopping me?" The shop suddenly became very quiet.
Across the street, Killer had been waiting outside. A couple of the Kid Pirates had stopped nearby you look and most likely steal whatever they were wanting. He didn't want to cause any trouble right now, especially with the amounts for marines crawling around. He stood leaning against one of the store's fronts and watch as people went by.
Until he noticed three familiar figures walking into a store directly across from him. They were members of Apoo's crew. "You've got to be kidding."
One of the Kid Pirates lounging nearby looked over. "What?"
Killer tilted his head toward the storefront. "Apoo's men."
The pirate immediately straightened. "The hell are they doing here?"
"No idea." But Killer didn't like this, not with all the Rookie arriving within days of each other and not with Marines crawling through every grove. Unwanted attention was the last thing any of them needed. He pushed himself off the wall. "Stay here." He crossed the street just as another loud voice echoed from inside.
Back in the shop, you held your ground. You knew starting a fight would bring in trouble, but you couldn't just let them take the fabric either. Your grip remained firmly on the folded Bubble Silk. Another pirate came up behind leaning close enough that you could feel his breath on your neck, "You gonna let go or what?"
"No." You snapped back refusing to give them any satisfaction from flinching away.
"You got guts, hate to watch them spill out on the floor." The third said spinning a knife around in his hand. The pirate in front of you, hand drifted toward the cutlass hanging at his hip.
And at that moment the bell chimed once more, and attention was now drawn to figure that has just stepped through the door. He was tall figure with messy blonde hair reaching down to his thighs. He was wearing a black and white polka-dots shirt that was open showing off his muscular chest. He had a red sash wrapped around his waist along with what looked like riding chaps over his dark blue pants. But his most distinct feature had to be blue and white striped full-head helmet with rows of holes in it.
You knew who he was, the "Massacre Soldier" Killer of the Kid pirates. You had seen his bounty poster on Jaya and couldn't get that mask out of your head. You might be able to handle the other three, but your odds against winning a fight against Killer weren't good. You continued to stand protectively beside the counter hand still on the fabric, and while you couldn't see her, but you could practically feel the trembling old shopkeeper trembling
One of the men let out an annoyed sigh. "Seriously?"
Another folded his arms. "Kid's right-hand man."
Killer didn't answer immediately, his eye lingered on the three pirates before shifting to the pirate in front of you, "You three," His voice was flat. "Leave the shop now, I can't imagine Apoo would want you attracting marine attention before you ship gets it coating done."
The pirate barked out a laugh. "And if I don't?"
Killer's hand rested casually on one of the rotating blades, the faint metallic click of the mechanism echoed through the shop. "Then you're making today more difficult than it needs to be."
The man behind you stepped back slightly and clicked his tongue. "Whatever, we're leaving."
The one in front of you muttered, "This shit ain't worth it." The three walked out much faster than they'd entered. The little bell above the door jingled as the three hastily left
The elderly shopkeeper let out a shaky breath she had clearly been holding for the last several minutes. "Thank goodness."
Across the room, Killer still stood by the entrance. He hadn't drawn his weapons towards you or had taken another step further into the fabric shop. He simply watched the door for another few seconds before deciding the On Air Pirates weren't coming back.
His attention shifted toward the shopkeeper. "You alright?"
She nodded several times. "Y-Yes."
"And they didn't take anything?"
"No."
"Good." His gaze finally landed on you and for a moment neither of you spoke. Seeing him in person was different from seeing his bounty poster. He was taller than you'd imagined, broader through the shoulders, and carried himself with the relaxed confidence of someone who rarely needed to prove how dangerous he was. Even standing still, there was an intensity about him that made it easy to understand why people cleared out of his way.
Meanwhile, you still had one hand resting protectively on the bolt of Bubble Silk.
Killer noticed. "You can let go now; I don't have any need for fabric."
You glanced down and realized you were still clutching the fabric like someone was about to snatch it away. "Oh." You let out an embarrassed laugh, finally releasing it.
The old shopkeeper gave a warm smile. "I believe this belongs to you anyway." She gently pulled the folded cloth closer to your side of the counter. "You weren't about to let them steal it."
"I wasn't."
"You would've fought them."
You hesitated for only a second. "Well, I can't just walk away when someone needs help."
Most people, Killer had learned, either panicked or tried to bluff when cornered. You hadn't done either, you'd simply refused to move or back down. There was something oddly familiar about that sort of stubbornness, you kinda reminded him of Kid in that way. A faint, almost imperceptible huff escaped behind his mask; it might have been mistaken for a laugh had anyone heard.
"Well, then let me get what you need and I'll be back. All of the colors?" You gave her a nod and smile and then the shopkeeper slipped into the back measuring the Bubble Silk, giving the two of you space.
You looked toward Killer. "Thank you, you didn't need to step in."
His answer was immediate. "They would've caused trouble." He rested his hand against the doorframe. "Marine patrols would've flooded this grove."
"So, you were saving yourself the inconvenience?" You stepped closer to him, giving him a smile.
"In part."
"And the other part?" Killer was quiet, and even with his is mask you could feel his eyes on you. He then cocked to his head to side as if he was contemplating something deep, before just shrugging.
The old shopkeeper returned carrying the neatly wrapped bundle of Bubble Silk, tied carefully with blue cord. "There." She smiled, her hands steadier now. "And," She glanced toward Killer. "Thank you."
He gave a short nod. "No need."
You accepted the parcel, giving her the money owned, and then slipping it carefully into your satchel. As you adjusted the strap over your shoulder, voices drifted in from outside. "Oi!"
"Found him!" Another voice answered with irritation. "Killer! Captain's looking for you!"
Killer clicked his tongue softly. "Figures." He turned toward the door, then paused. Without looking back, he spoke. "Watch yourself, lots of pirate on the island." Then, with the soft jingle of the bell, Killer stepped back into the bustling streets of Sabaody, disappearing into the sea of bubbles and people as though he'd never been there at all.
You said goodbye to old lady and began the track back to the Sunny You hoped you would run into Killer again; he was interesting that was for sure and you were growing curious about him. Unbeknownst to you, you would sooner than you thought as your Den Den Mushi began to ring, and you learned of Camie kidnapping.
~~~~~~~~~~
The auction house was loud. Rich nobles laughed from velvet seats, slaves stood silently in cages beneath bright lights. The auctioneer's voice echoed through the hall as another person was paraded across the stage. Every time the auctioneer's hammer struck, another person's future was bought by the highest bidder.
Killer hated places like this. Not because it was unusual, human trafficking existed all over the World, but because there was something particularly revolting about seeing it dressed up as entertainment. Velvet curtains, polished floors, fine wine, and smiling crowds did little to hide what was really happening. There were men, women, and children being reduced to mere merchandise. His fingers flexed once around the handles of his Punishers before relaxing again.
Beside him, Kid lounged in his seat with one boot propped against the chair in front of him, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else. "How much longer is this gonna take?" He muttered. "This is boring."
Heat snorted. "I'd rather be setting this place on fire."
Wire folded his arms, leaning back in his chair. "You say that about every building."
"Because most buildings deserve it."
Killer ignored them and instead let, his gaze swept across the auction house. Ther was rows of pampered nobles along with their bodyguards pretending to look intimidating. Wealthy merchants were eagerly waiting for the next lot, and there were some government officials trying not to be recognized. Toward the rear sat several pirate crews, each keeping to themselves while pretending not to notice the others.
Among them was the Heart Pirates. Trafalgar Law sat with his usual detached expression, Bepo beside him while Penguin and Shachi quietly observed the room. His gaze continued until movement caught his attention. Another group had slipped into the back of the hall.
The Straw Hats, he recognized the orange-haired navigator, the racoon dog, the cook and... you?
For the briefest moment, Killer thought he'd mistaken someone else for you, but no. The satchel slung over your shoulder and the distinctive fabric sticking out was enough to confirm it was you. You had the same calm posture from the fabric shop earlier, but this time there was anger burning in your eyes.
Suddenly your eyes turned your attention from the stage where someone was being sold as if you sensed someone watching. Your eyes wandered across the room meeting his mask. Recognition flickered across your face and then, to his surprise, you offered the smallest smile and nod. Killer gave the faintest inclination of his head in return before looking away, as though nothing had happened.
Kid, however, hadn't missed the exchange. "You know them?"
Killer answered without looking over. "We met."
"When?"
"Early today."
Kid raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"They were buying fabric."
Heat blinked. "Fabric?"
Wire looked between the two of them. "That's unexpectedly normal."
Kid barked out a laugh. "You disappear for an hour and come back making shopping acquaintances?"
Killer didn't dignify that with a response. His attention returned to the stage just as the auctioneer's booming voice rang through the hall once more. "Ladies and gentlemen! Our next item is a true rarity!"
Whatever was coming out, he could feel the tense from coming from your crew. Killer watched as the auctioneer brought Camie onto the stage. And time seemed to move fast and slow at the same time. A Celestial Dragon had outbid the orange haired women. He saw as you clenched your fists as the auctioneer happily prepared to sell Camie off like property. You had made a moved like you were going to go down there when the blond hair man gently caught your wrist.
Next thing Killer knew, the ceiling was ripped open as wood and dust rained onto the auction floor as Straw Hat himself crashed through the roof atop a Fish Rider, even your crew looked stunned by their entrance.
Luffy spotted Camie and was ready to charged the stage without hesitation. When a fishman desperately threw himself in front of him, using his arms to hold Luffy back. Suddenly same nobles who had been eagerly buying slaves recoiled in disgust, shouting and scrambling away in panic more than they were from when Luffy and Zoro had crashed through the ceiling.
A gunshot rang out through the auction house, the sound bouncing off the walls. Hatchan crumpled to the floor. Camie's horrified cries rang from inside her tank while Pappag shouted helplessly. Beside you, the Straw Hats stood frozen for only a heartbeat. Saint Charlos simply laughed, as though he'd shot an animal.
The Straw Hat captain was just standing there eyes covered by his straw hat. Hatchan, bleeding heavily, begged him not to retaliate. He apologized for everything he'd done years ago, insisting this was his own fault and reminding Luffy of the promise he'd made not to strike a Celestial Dragon. Then Charlos raised his pistol again and Luffy walked forward and his fist connected with Charlos's face so hard that the World Noble flew through several rows of seats before crashing unconscious into the far wall.
In that single moment the entire auction house forgot how to breathe. Except Kid, his captain burst into loud laughter, grinning from ear to ear. "So he actually did it!" Even Killer couldn't stop the small huff that escaped behind his mask.
Panic swept through the auction house as nobles fled for the exits and guards rushed toward the Straw Hats. Rosward screamed for an Admiral while wildly firing at Luffy, accomplishing nothing. Zoro cut Camie's tank open, freeing the terrified mermaid as more of your crew arrived aboard additional Fish Riders. Usopp's spectacularly bad landing somehow resulted in another Celestial Dragon being knocked unconscious, making the guards even more frantic.
Killer's attention shifted toward the exits, marines would already be surrounding the building. Getting out of here and off Sabaody just become nearly impossible
~~~~~~~~~~
As Kid, Law, and Luffy go out to deal with marines. Another tremor shook the building as more debris ran down, and you tried to move out of the way but another pirate bumped into you causing you to be pushed back into were the ceiling was falling apart. Suddenly you felt arms wrap around you pulling back a piece of the ceiling crashed down were you once stood. You found yourself pressed against a solid chest, one hand instinctively gripping the front of a black and =white spotted shirt to steady yourself. Looking up through the settling dust, you met the familiar metal mask. "Killer?"
His grip loosened the moment he was certain you were steady on your feet. "You were about to get crushed." Another section of the ceiling groaned overhead. Killer glanced upward, then back toward the exit. "This place is coming down." Only then did he release you completely, giving you just enough space to move while subtly positioning himself between you and another shower of falling debris. His head turned toward the doorway where the rest of your crew had already begun making their way outside. "You should catch up with your captain."
You gave him a nod as you both made your way out of the building. As you reached the shattered entrance, another wave of Marines appeared. "There they are!"
"Don't let them escape!"
Killer nodded towards you, "We're splitting up here, you still have your fabric?
You looked down. Somehow, in all the chaos, the carefully wrapped bundle was still tucked safely in your satchel and you smiled despite everything. "Thanks for making sure I didn't lose it."
"You looked happy when you bought it." He gave a small shrug.
Before you could respond, "OI, KILLER!" Kid was already several yards ahead, cutting through a line of Marines with a grin that promised trouble. "You planning on joining us today?"
Killer looked toward his captain and then back at you. "Stay alive."
"You too." With that, he turned, sprinting after Kid as steel flashed in the afternoon sun.
You watched him disappear into the chaos for just a second before Nami grabbed your sleeve. "Come on!"
"Right!" You tightened your grip on the fabric bundle, then ran after your own crew.
The battle had gone from bad to impossibly worse. The Marines refused to stop coming. The Straw Hats were exhausted and the Kid Pirates had already withdrawn to avoid getting trapped. A pressure settled over the battlefield as a massive man stood among the wreckage. Bartholomew Kuma, the real Bartholomew Kuma, not the robotic versions.
What followed made no sense, one Straw Hat vanished, then another, and another. The screams of their captain echoed through the mangroves. "No!" Luffy's voice cracked. "STOP!" Ever member of the crew simply gone, the captain included. Luffy's desperate screams still seemed to linger in the air. But once they faded, it left the grove eerily quiet.
"Killer." Kid's voice came from behind him. "We're leaving." Killer felt a pit in his stomach. "Killer!" Kid voice barked out sharper than before.
He finally moved. "Yeah." Then something caught his eye, near a collapsed section of wall. He quickly changed his direction, hurrying towards the item that had caught his eye. It was the bolt of fabric that you had, still wrapped in the blue cord. He bent down a picked it up one corner had been scorched by the fighting. He carefully smoothed the fabric flat, placing it back in the satchel you had been carrying it in that had also been discarded.
"You seriously stopping for cloth?" Heat sounded baffled.
Kid looked over his shoulder. "What's that?"
Killer stood. "Nothing important."
"It looks important if you're picking it up."
He looked down at the bundle. "It belongs to someone."
Kid snorted. "That Straw Hat is gone."
"Maybe." Without another explanation, Killer tucked the bundle securely beneath his arm, it wouldn't hurt to keep it, just in case. That night, after the crew had finally settled aboard the Victoria Punk, Killer found himself alone for a few minutes below deck. He opened one of the empty chests in his room and laid the fabric inside, before pushing it under his bed. He didn't know why, he picked it up or kept your fabric, but he couldn't bring himself to leave it lying in the dirt. There was just something about you, he couldn't get out of his head.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The first newspaper arrives after the war at Marineford, Kid snatched it first before anyone else could. "Tch." He clicked his tongue as he skimmed the front page. "Old Whitebeard's dead along with Fire Fist."
Heat let out a whistle, "Damn..." Wire is reading over Kid's shoulder while everyone discusses the aftermath or war. Killer says nothing, he simply waited until the paper was passed to him. His eyes moved steadily through the article, Whitebeard, Blackbeard, marines, the seven Warlord, and Straw Hat Luffy. He was alive, well possibly still alive after being taken to Trafalgar ship. He read the article again, then again, and third time slower. There isn't a single mention of the rest of the Straw Hat crew, but if Luffy was alive, maybe, you were too. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was something.
From then on, newspapers become routine; Killer would read through the whole thing watching for any mention of the Straw Hats, especially after Luffy rang the bell at Marine headquarters. He would look carefully, just hoping for one photograph, one rumor, really anything to hint that you were still alive.
Heat notices this change in reading habits after a few weeks. "You reading the paper again?"
"Hm."
"Looking for Straw Hat?"
"Just reading the news."
"Uh-huh."
Heat grins. "You're looking for that straw hat of that the fabric locked up in the chest in your room belongs too."
"No." Killer simply turns the page refusing to speak further about it. Heat takes the silence that followed that he had guessed correctly.
And slowly over the next two years, Killer continued to read the paper looking for any word of you. Every now and then, whenever the Kid Pirates docked somewhere with a market, Killer found himself wandering through fabric stalls. Then he noticed threads dyed in colors he'd never noticed before; buttons carved from shell, fine needles, lengths of ribbons, quality leather and soft cotton. Without really thinking about it, he'd buy one or two things before returning to the ship.
Each purchase disappeared into the same wooden chest in his quarters. The original bundle of Bubble Silk remained neatly folded beneath everything else, waiting, just like he was.
Then comes the two-year mark and the newspaper hits the table with a smack. Heat unfolds it. "Captain!"
Kid looks up from working on his arm, "What?"
Wire's eyes go wide as he leans over Heat's shoulder, "No way..."
Killer looked up from polishing his blades and over at the paper. The headline fills half the front page.
THE STRAW HATS RETURN TO SABAODY.
Every single one of them was alive. Heat starts reading the article aloud, but Killer has already reached for the paper taking it from Heat. His gaze immediately goes to the group photograph on the front page. There you were standing next to green haired swordsman. You were alive, you may have had a different hairstyle, new clothes, but the smile on your face was unmistakably you. Kid says nothing and just watches his first mate with a knowing look in his eyes.
Later that evening, after the excitement of the day dies down, Killer opens the chest in his quarters. The Bubble Silk is exactly where he left it along with all the other items he had gathered. He runs a hand over the neatly folded bundle, "I will give this to you the next time we meet." He mutters to himself and then carefully closes the lid of chest.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The Fire Festival had become an enormous celebration restored to it's original purpose. Lanterns drifted into the night sky, as music echoed across the Flower Capital. Children laughed and played through the streets. People danced, party and ate. While the samurai drank until they could barely stand. The alliance had finally won. For the first time in what felt like forever, everyone could simply exist.
You'd spent most of the evening repairing torn sleeves and reattaching buttons for anyone who wandered over. "You know," you laughed as Franky held out another ripped shirt, "one day I'm charging all of you."
"You can bill me later!" Franky grinned.
"You've said that for years." You responded back with a laugh in your voice.
"I'll pay eventually!"
"Sure, and the sea is purple." The people gathered around burst into laughter.
Across the celebration, Killer watched everyone around him trying to find you. Kid had already gotten into his third drinking contest. Heat was singing loudly enough that people several streets away were probably suffering. Wire had been pulled into dancing by an unusually enthusiastic Bepo, who seemed determined to get every pirate crew involved.
And finally, he found you. You sat beneath the warm glow of a paper lantern, chatting with Law while carefully stitching a tear in the brim of his spotted hat. The expression on your face was different. It wasn't the strained expression he'd caught glimpses of during the raid nor the determined face from Onigashima. You were just happy and relaxed.
Killer found himself watching a moment longer than he'd intended, over two years he'd spent wondering if he'd ever see that smile again and now it was only a few steps away. Without drawing attention to himself, he stood from where he'd been sitting. Leaving Kid to his drinking contest and Heat to whatever song he'd started singing now, Killer quietly crossed the festival grounds.
You didn't notice him immediately, neither did Law as you both discussed Sora, Warrior of the Sea comics. It was only when his shadow fell across the lantern light did you both look up. Your eyes met his or at least were you assumed they were behind his mask. For the briefest second, surprise crossed your face, then it softened into a familiar smile. "Killer."
Law glanced between the two of you, one brow lifting ever so slightly before he reaching towards his hat. You snipped the last thread and handed it over. "There. Good as new."
Law inspected the stitching. "Better than new."
You grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should." He settled the hat back on his head before looking toward Killer. The faintest hint of amusement tugged at the corner of Law's mouth as he stood. "I'll leave you two to it."
Without another word, he melted back into the festival crowd, leaving the two of you sitting side by side beneath the lanterns. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The music drifted through the warm air while laughter carried across the capital. Finally, you tilted your head toward him. "So..." A teasing smile touched your lips. "I was starting to think you'd only ever talk to me during life-threatening situations."
Behind his mask, Killer let out the quiet huff that had long since become the closest thing he was willing to a laugh. "This seemed like better timing."
You smiled a little wider. "I'd have to agree."
A comfortable silence settled between you, the sounds of the festival filling the space instead of awkwardness. Somewhere in the distance, Kid roared triumphantly after winning another drinking contest, only for someone to immediately challenge him again. Killer's gaze drifted toward the lanterns floating overhead before returning to you. "I've been meaning to return something to you." He said after a moment.
You tilted your head. "To me?"
Rather than answer, Killer rose to his feet, he extended a hand toward you. "Come with me." You looked from his hand to the curious tilt of his masked head. For someone who rarely spoke more than necessary, there was something almost hesitant in the gesture, as if he wasn't entirely sure you'd take it.
A smile tugged at your lips. "You know," you teased lightly, "you're being awfully mysterious."
"I know."
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?"
"No."
"Not even a hint?" He shook his head and you laughed softly, shaking your head. "I suppose that's the most information I'm getting." Without another word, you slipped your hand into his. His grip was firm enough to steady you as he helped you to your feet, yet careful, as though he was making a conscious effort not to hold on too tightly.
Once you were standing, he let his hand fall away after a small moment of hesitation. "This way." Together, the two of you slipped away from the heart of the celebration, but neither of you noticed the pair of eyes following from across the festival. Kid watched the two of you disappear between the lantern-lit streets before taking another drink from his cup.
Wire wandered over, looking thoroughly exhausted after being repeatedly dragged into dances by Bepo. "Where's Killer going?"
Kid smirked into his drink. "Keeping a promise to himself."
"Huh?" Kid only chuckled, saying nothing more as the music of the Fire Festival carried on into the night.
Killer led you through the quieter streets of the Flower Capital, away from the lantern-lit crowds and endless music. The further you walked, the quieter the festival became until all that remained was the distant echo of laughter carried on the night breeze. You glanced over at him. "So..." He looked your way. "You've been awfully quiet."
"I usually am."
"Fair."
You smiled to yourself. "I was hoping maybe tonight would be different."
"It is."
You raised an eyebrow. "You've spoken more to me tonight than you did during the entire raid."
A soft huff escaped behind his mask. "I suppose."
You laughed quietly. "I'll count that as progress."
Eventually, the two of you stopped beneath one of the massive cherry blossom trees overlooking the capital. The branches swayed gently in the evening breeze, pink petals drifting lazily through the air before landing on the river below. There wasn't another soul around.
Killer turned to face you. "Wait here." Before you could ask what he meant, he disappeared around the corner of a nearby building. He returned a minute later carrying a weathered wooden chest. It wasn't large, just enough to carry in both hands, but from the way he handled it, you could tell it wasn't empty. Setting it carefully on the ground between you, Killer knelt and undid the brass latch and the lid creaked softly as it opened.
You leaned forward and then your eyes widened. Inside lay neatly folded bundles of fabric. Spools of thread in nearly every color imaginable. Rows of carefully organized buttons made from shell, wood, bone, and polished metal. There were needles made of different metals in a variety of sizes. Ribbon with different cuts and colors. There was even two pairs small tailoring scissors, one gold and other silver.
And familiar bundle wrapped in faded blue cord rested near the bottom. You recognized it immediately. "The Bubble Silk."
Killer nodded. "I found it on Sabaody and wanted to return it to you."
Your gaze lifted from the fabric to him. "You kept it?"
"Yes."
You looked back into the chest. There was far more than just the Bubble Silk. Every piece had been carefully arranged, nothing was tossed in carelessly. It looked like a collection, "Killer..."
"I kept stopping at markets." His voice remained even but a bit slower than usual. "If I found good material," He shrugged slightly. "I bought it."
Your fingers paused over the Bubble Silk. "You really held onto to this and got all of this for me?"
He nodded once. "I wasn't sure," His words faltered for the first time since you'd met him. "if I'd ever see you again. But if I did I wanted to be able to give you something you would like." The confession hung quietly between you. You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest in a way you hadn't expected. Carefully, you lifted the folded Bubble Silk from the chest, running your fingers over the smooth fabric before placing it gently in the chest again
Then, without thinking too hard about it, you stepped forward. Killer stiffened slightly as you wrapped your arms around him, just long enough for him to realize what was happening before you stepped back again. "Thank you." Your voice was quiet. "No one has ever done something like this for me before."
For a moment, Killer simply stood there, completely still, then, behind the familiar metal mask, another soft huff escaped him. "You're welcome." A cherry blossom petal drifted between the two of you, carried on the night breeze as the sounds of the Fire Festival echoed faintly in the distance.
~~~~ Extra Scene ~~~~
The festival had long since settled into a quieter celebration. Most of the drunken singing had moved toward the center of the capital, leaving the riverside wrapped in the warm glow of paper lanterns. You sat cross-legged on the engawa outside one of the houses the alliance had been given to rest in, needle flashing in the lantern light.
And with one final stitch, you tied it off with practiced fingers before holding your work up with a satisfied smile. "Done."
Footsteps approached from behind you. "I thought I'd find you sewing." You looked over your shoulder, to see a very familiar figure, Killer.
You let out laugh, "I suppose that wasn't much of a challenge."
"It wasn't." He stopped beside you, glancing down at the folded piece of fabric in your lap. "You've been working on that since yesterday."
"I have." You stood, brushing a few loose threads from your clothes. "Close your eyes."
There was a pause as Killer cocked his head to the side, "Why?"
You placed your hands on your hips. "Humor me."
Another pause and Killer nodded, "Alright." Satisfied, you stepped closer. Carefully, you tied the red sash around his waist. His shoulders tensed ever so slightly at your touch but then relaxed. The Bubble Silk caught the lantern light with the faintest iridescent shimmer before settling into a deep crimson that almost perfectly matched the old one you had seen him wear the first time you had met.
You tied the knot securely. "There, now you can look."
Killer opened his eye. His hand instinctively rested against the sash, it was lighter than the old one he had back then. This one was softer and stronger as well. He ran his thumb over the stitching also done in the thread that he gotten for you. There was imbordered work done, he could feel the Kid Pirates skull stitched into the fabric. "You..." His voice caught for just a second. "You made this for me?"
You nodded. "From the Bubble Silk." His gaze lifted to yours looking as you smiled a little sheepishly. "Since you spent so long keeping it for me, it seemed right that you should have the first thing I made."
Killer looked back down at the sash. "I'll wear it."
"I know."
"No." His voice was quiet. "I mean..." He rested a hand over the knot you'd tied. "I won't take it off, if I can help it."
Your smile softened. "I'd like that." The breeze stirred between you, carrying the distant sound of shamisen music through the night. Then, before you could say anything else Killer stepped closer, close enough that you could hear his breathing beneath the mask. One hand rose slowly, his fingers hesitated beside your cheek, giving you every opportunity to pull away.
You didn't, instead, you leaned into the touch. His thumb brushed gently against your cheekbone. "Thank you." The words were barely above a whisper. Before you could respond, he lowered his head slightly. You could here a click of his mask and a slight shift as he push it upward and then he pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead. When he drew back and his masked clicked back into place, you looked up at him, your cheeks warm.
"You know..." You smiled. "I was kind of wondering what was under the mask."
Another soft huff. "One thing at a time."
You laughed, reaching down to straighten the sash one last time. "One thing at a time."
Somewhere in the distance, Kid's voice carried across the capital. "KILLER!" Followed by Luffy's shouting your name.
You both sighed at exactly the same time. "Duty calls," you said.
"Unfortunately." Still smiling, you slipped your hand into his and this time he didn't let go.
Summary: When it comes to a solution to a problem, you partner comes up with an entertaining one.
A/N: I totally forgot that I had started this request. The idea was so much fun, but writers block was winning out, and I had given up. Luckly, I found my draft and was able to finish it.
Masterlist
🖤🐊Crocodile:
You should have known you were pushing your luck, working for the Cross Guild could be a lot sometimes. You were technically working for Crocodile but since your captain was Buggy, he had running all kinds of errands and completing tasks to prove your loyalty after he found out you and Crocodile were together. Which led to the current conversation with your boss/boyfriend.
"You’ve missed three meetings." Crocodile continued reading the stack of reports on his desk as you stood beside him.
"I was busy." You shifted back and forth slightly; you could just blame Buggy, since it was his fault. You missed one because an errand ran long and the other two you had fallen asleep and missing them. But he was your captain and friend, so you didn’t want to throw him to the hypothetical crocodiles.
"You were asleep." He turned a page of the report that you were supposed to be doing and wrote something down, before turning his attention to you completely.
You looked into his eyes, “It won’t happen again, I just have been a bit exhausted that is all.”
There was a long silence as Crocodile’s eyes went from yours and roamed all over your body, he let out a slight hum. Then his golden hook nudged your side before wrapping it around you, drawing you closer to him. "What?" His hand settled on your waist. "Crocodile?" Before you could process what he was doing, sand coiled around your legs and back and with no effort on his part, you were lifted clean off the floor. "Did you?" Your feet kicked uselessly above the ground. "Did you just put me in air jail?"
"I did."
"You cannot be serious."
"I've never been more serious."
You folded your arms, glaring at him. "Put me down."
"No." He said while turning back to the report, writing something else down.
"I have rights."
"Debatable."
"Crocodile."
Without looking up, he replied, "Darling, hush. I'm working on the report you're supposed to have finished."
You let out an exaggerated gasp. "I can't believe this." He calmly turned the next page, as though holding you captive several feet off the ground was the most ordinary part of his afternoon. "You are unbelievable." You could see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. “Are you smiling?"
"No."
"You are." You said pointing to him, trying fight the smile forming on your own face. Seeing him smile was rare, but it was always worth it... well maybe less worth it when you were being dangled up in the air by his sand.
"You're imagining things." Before you could argue, the sand holding you shifted and instead of lowering you, it carried you a little higher.
"Crocodile." You then drifted to the left spinning slightly, "Crocodile I swear..." You then moved back to the right. The sand was gently rocking you back and forth like you were dancing while he continued reading as if he had absolutely nothing to do with it. "Are you making the sand dance with me?"
"Perhaps."
"You're impossible."
"Mm." Then at last he finally set the report aside. "There." With a flick of his fingers, the sand lowered you, not to the floor, but directly into his lap. You barely had time to make a sound before his arm settled securely around your waist, pinning you against his chest. "Much better," he murmured.
You twisted enough to glare up at him. "You could've just put me down on the floor."
"Could have."
"Then why didn't you?"
“I enjoy having you close.” His eyes met yours, loving and knowing. "also this has very little to do with missed meetings." Your expression faltered, oh shit, why did you think you could keep anything from this man, "Buggy has been finding increasingly creative ways to monopolize your time." His thumb idly brushed your cheek. "I've allowed it because I wanted to see how long it would take before you mentioned it."
"You knew?" You asked with some hesitance, of course he would have noticed.
"From the beginning."
You sighed, shoulders slumping. "I didn't want to get him in trouble; he is my captain."
"How considerate you are my love, but" He leaned back in his chair, his grip on your waist remaining firm enough that escaping wasn't really an option, not that you really wanted to. "I'll handle the clown."
🖤🦩Doflamingo:
"You are not listening to me."
Doflamingo didn't even glance up from the newspaper in his hands as he sat down on the couch. "I heard every word, little bird."
"Then why are you ignoring me?"
A low chuckle escaped from him as he peered at you from behind his pink sunglasses, "You've become awfully bold."
"I've always been bold." You snapped back uncrossing your arms and trying to glare at him, but he already had gone back to the newspaper.
"No." He turned a page. "You've become comfortable."
You hesitate for a second, "Is that a bad thing?"
"Not necessarily."
You rounded the table in front of the couch until you were standing directly in front of him and pulled down the paper carefully but forcefully. "There. Now you have to acknowledge me."
That action caused his attention to snap directly to you. His eyes now piercing you over the top of his sunglasses. "Move."
"No." You had to stand your ground regardless of the outcome; he wouldn’t actually hurt you, would he?
"Little bird, you'll regret that."
You started to call, what you hopped would be his bluff, "You wouldn’t actually...” then the words died in your throat as you felt stopped when something brushed lightly around your wrist. You looked down at your wrist and then back at him as a grin made its way across his face as another thread curled around your other wrist. "Doffy?" Then around felt around your waist and then your ankles. The feeling was almost soft and gentle as the string was hanging loosely. "Doflamingo."
"Hm?" He responded, cocking his head to the side while his fingers made up and down movements.
"What are your strings doing?"
"They're solving a problem."
"What problem?"
"You."
Before you could react, the strings pulled tight and your contact with the floor vanished as you were shot up it the air, "What....HEY!" You were pulled effortlessly upward until you were hanging several feet above the marble floor, rotating in the air as you twisted around. Your eyes dropped to the ground and then to the nearly invisible strings keeping you suspended and then back to him. "Did you just string me into air jail?"
He finally set down the newspaper completely, much more entertained by the scene in front of him and that grin on his face was absolutely unbearable. "Fufufufu..."
"That's not an answer."
"Isn't it?"
"No!"
"Then yes." He leaned back comfortably against the couch. "Consider this your punishment for not listening, most people would be dead right now for not listening to me. All you get is a bit hung up."
You stared at him. "You cannot be serious."
"Look at you." He gestured lazily with one finger, making you slowly rotate in place. "You're much quieter already."
"I'm not quieter!" You shouted back, trying to fight against the stings.
"Mm." His finger twitched again, and the strings carried you in a slow circle in front of him.
"Stop spinning me!"
"Why?" He asked sarcastically while he continued to mess with you.
You tried to glare at him as more strings began to wrap around you, "Because it's humiliating!"
"Exactly." He let out another laugh, “You are rather amusing like this, I should sting you up more often, little bird.”
You huffed out. "You're enjoying this."
"Immensely." He said with his grin wider than before if that was possible. He guided you closer with another subtle twitch of his fingers. The strings obeyed instantly, drawing you through the air until your nose was nearly touching his, but they held you there, just out of reach. "Better."
You frowned. "Better for who?"
"Me."
"You're insufferable."
"So, I've been told by you, repeatedly."
Just as you leaned forward to close the tiny gap yourself, the strings eased you back an inch, and you looked at him incredulously, "Did you just move me away?"
His grin stretched wider. "Patience, little bird."
"You're doing this on purpose."
"Obviously." With another lazy motion of his fingers, the strings drew you close again, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath.
"Fufufu... I enjoy watching you react, my little bird." Before you could come up with another retort, he caught your chin between his fingers and closed the remaining distance himself. The kiss was slow and unhurried, lingering just long enough to leave you momentarily forgetting the strings still holding you aloft. When he finally pulled away, he didn't let you drift far. The strings kept you hovering comfortably in front of him, as though you belonged there. His thumb brushed over your cheek. "See?" He murmured with a satisfied smile. "Much more pleasant than arguing, little bird."
💜🍩Katakuri:
Katakuri had asked for your help with inventory checks on several of the Big Mom Pirates' ships. It was a task you'd helped with countless times since your arranged marriage. In the beginning, the jobs were quiet, almost awkward. Your wedding had been your introduction to each other and trying to make conversation with him had been hard, but doing the inventory checks with him gave you both a chance to get more comfortable with each other in a setting away from everyone else.
As time went on, you’d grown used to walking beside him through the streets of Whole Cake Island, talking about whatever happened to cross your mind while he quietly listened. You two slowly grew closer together and your arranged marriage became a real one.
Normally the inventory check went well but today was just going to one of those days.
"I can carry that." You said, reaching down to pick up a crate to move it.
"You don't need to." Katakuri said gently placing his hand on shoulder.
But you reached for the crate anyway. "I've got it."
"It's okay, I can handle it." Before your fingers could touch the wooden box, Katakuri's large hand gently caught your wrist, pulling you to his other side with the crate in his other hand.
You blinked up at him. "It's not a big deal; I can handle it. "
He didn't answer and instead, he looked past you toward the hallway and not a even a second later, one of the cooks hurried around the corner carrying a tower of crates that completely blocked his view. He nearly barreled through the exact spot where you'd been standing. "Oh! Sorry!" The cook called before continuing without another thought.
A few minutes later, you wandered toward a shelf stacked with jars. "I think these should..." Your hand reached out, Katakuri gently caught your wrist again, pulling you back into him. "Katakuri?" You looked up at him and a heartbeat later one of the jars tipped from the on the top shelf as a wave crashed into the side of the ship before tumbling down. It shattered across the floor exactly where you had been standing.
After a bit, you bent down to pick up a blanket that someone had dropped, when ou felt Katakuri's hand rest against your shoulder. "Don't move. " You froze glancing up as a crew member rushed past carrying a long metal pipe balanced across his shoulders. It swept through the space your head had occupied less than a second earlier.
You slowly straightened. "How are you doing that?"
Katakuri glanced at you. "I saw it."
"Oh right." You took another few steps down the corridor and something soft and familiar wrapped around your waist. The white mochi had curled securely around you. "Katakuri?" Before you could ask another question, your feet left the floor. “What?" The mochi lifted you smoothly into the air until you were at eye level with him, "Did you just put me in air jail?"
"Just for a bit, sweetie." He said, “It is for your own good.”
"Katakuri." You folded your arms with an exaggerated huff. "I cannot believe you're air-jailing me." Just as the words came out of your mouth, a loud metallic groan echoed through the corridor. You looked over just in time to see one of the overhead pulleys snap and a heavy pallet swung violently across the hallway, crashing into the wall with enough force to splinter the wood. Right through the space where you would have been standing.
Your eyes widened. "I rescinded my previous statement darling, air-jailing me was the correct thing to do." Even with the threat gone, the mochi didn't lower you, so you turned your attention back to him, "Can I come down now?"
He shook his head "Not yet."
"There's more?" He just gave a nod, and you sighed dramatically, but not really that upset by the current situation. The mochi was soft and comfortable; you took naps on it regularly, so being wrapped up, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Less than a minute later, two Big Mom Pirates came sprinting around the corner. One tripped and the pair stumbled together, sending a stack of supply barrels rolling wildly down the hallway. The barrels thundered past beneath you before crashing into another pile of crates. You looked at Katakuri. "Seriously what is going on today?"
Katakuri just gave you a shrug, and his gaze drifted somewhere beyond the corridor. "All clear." The mochi slowly lowered you until your boots touched the floor and the moment you were standing again, the mochi melted away from your waist.
You dusted yourself off before looking up at him. "Thank you, are we clear from anyone showing up for a bit?" Katakuri gave you another nod, already knowing exactly what you were about to ask. "So," You smiled up at him. "Could you pick me back up for a second? I think my protector deserves a reward."
There was the briefest pause. “If that's what you want." His mochi curled gently around your waist once more, lifting you effortlessly until you were eye level with him. "This is much better," you murmured.
His eyes softened. "Is it?"
"Mm-hm." You rested your hands against his scarf pulling it down before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He returned it without hesitation, slow and unhurried, one gloved hand coming to rest lightly at the small of your back while the mochi kept you comfortably suspended. When the kiss finally ended, you lingered close enough that your foreheads touched. "Thank you," you whispered.
Katakuri looked at you for a long moment before speaking. “Always love."
You smiled. "You know," you teased, "air jail isn't so bad when it ends like this."
The corner of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly as he covered his smiling face back up with his scarf, "Don't get used to it." Then, without another word, the two of you continued down the corridor, this time with you making a point to stay just a little closer to his side.
♥️⚙️Eustass Kid:
It wasn’t very often you argued with Kid, fighting with him was never worth it. But this time was different. A new crate of supplies was now destroyed, and your boyfriend decided somehow it was your fault. It wasn’t for the record, and you weren’t going to be taking the blame on this one.
"It wasn't my fault." You snapped at him huffing as you both, along with several other crew members, walked through the market.
"It was." Kid bit back glaring at you lightly. Even if you two were fighting, he couldn't bring himself to be that mean to you. Especially over a crate of supplies they could easily just take from anyone. At this point he was having fun riling you up.
"I literally watched Heat start the fire." You said gesturing wildly to Heat who just shrugged but didn’t say anything to confirm or deny. He wasn’t getting in the middle of you two.
"He started it because you distracted him."
"I asked him what he wanted for lunch, since you know its my job!"
"Well, you shouldn't have when he was carrying the crate."
You threw your hands into the air. "That's not even..." And then without warning, a metal hand wrapped around your waist and the ground disappeared from beneath you. "Kid." You looked down and you were now dangling a good couple of feet above the ground. "Did you just put me in air jail?"
Kid kept walking as if nothing unusual had happened, carrying you one-handed like you weighed absolutely nothing. "Temporary air suspension."
"KID!"
The crew that was with you was trying to not laugh all while Heat walked past with a crate balanced on one shoulder. "About time."
You attention snaped from Kid to man who was the cause of this in the first place, "What do you mean 'about time'?" Heat said nothing and instead just laughed.
Wire glanced over, "Causing problems, huh?"
"I'M NOT THE PROBLEM!" You shouted exasperated trying to wriggle out of Kid’s grip, but it was useless.
Kid snorted. "You definitely are."
You crossed your arms dramatically looking back at Kid. "This is humiliating."
"You'll live.” Kid said patting your head with his other hand like you were some kind of animal.
"Put me down!"
"No."
"Why?"
"You'll keep arguing."
"I can argue from up here!"
"You sound farther away."
You gasped. "That is unbelievably rude." Kid ignored you completely as the people on the island openly stared at the sight of a feared pirate captain holding their partner up in the air with one hand all because you were arguing with him.
One little kid pointed. "Mom! That man is carrying them!"
"I'm aware, sweetheart." The mom said, gently guiding the child away from the scene.
You buried your face in your hands. "I'm never recovering from this." Kid's shoulders shook from laughing and you could feel your body shake along with his. “Are you laughing at me? It isn't that funny."
"It is very funny babe." Kid said bring you closer to his grinning face. “How about this, give me a kiss and I’ll put you down?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Absolutely not."
Kid raised an eyebrow. "Then I guess you're staying up there."
"You're literally holding me hostage for affection."
"I'm your boyfriend. It's different."
You looked back at Kid with a dramatic huff. "Fine. You don't get a kiss."
"Guess you don't get put down."
Killer sighed from somewhere behind you. "This is the dumbest argument we've seen all week and it only Tuesday."
Heat wandered over again, taking one look before grinning. "You know, Captain, you could just throw 'em over your shoulder."
Kid looked thoughtful at you for a second, "That's an option."
"NO IT ISN'T." Before you could protest further, Kid shifted you with alarming ease and suddenly you were upside down over his shoulder. The world tilted and any dignity you had left evaporated. "KID!" You smacked his back repeatedly and he didn't even react. It was like hitting reinforced steel. "You are the worst."
"So, I've been told." You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he had that smug smile on his face.
"You have exactly five seconds to put me down."
"No."
"Four."
"Nah."
"Three."
"Pass."
“Two."
"I’m good."
"One."
“I’m so scared.”
"I'm out of numbers."
"Tough." Before you could think of another threat, Kid gave your backside a light, playful smack.
You yelped, twisting as much as you could from your upside-down position. "Did you just slap my ass?"
"Couldn't resist."
Heat barked out a laugh. "Captain, I think you made 'em even madder."
"Good," Kid said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.
You huffed, "I'm going to make your life miserable when you put me down."
Kid just chuckled. "Should have just given me that kiss."
Summary: A stolen apple was one a way to meet an infamous pirate that is for sure.
Masterlist
The first time you met Shanks, you assumed it would also be the last; that was how encounters with pirates usually went for a merchant captain and their ship. The hope was they would be brief, lucrative, and everyone left the encounter alive. And in the worst case it was raid on the merchant ship that left you and your crew dead on the sinking ship never to be seen again.
But there was something you hadn’t anticipated; Shanks wasn’t just another pirate. No, he was something remarkably different.
It started on a random Wednesday while you were docked on a small island after dropping off and picking up a shipment. With over half of your crew taking a break on the island, your gaze and thoughts were cast on the request letter you had received from a local art merchant about possible doing business together. While your thoughts were occupied you reached from the apple your navigator had brought you only to grasp air.
Your gaze lifted as you stood on the deck of your merchant vessel, letter in one hand, staring at the empty space on top of the barrel where your apple had definitely been a couple of minutes ago. Your eyes traveled up to some of the crates that hadn’t made it below deck yet and there sat a red-haired man, perfectly at ease, already mid-bite of your apple.
He waved with the stolen apple giving you a teasing smile. “Really good apple,” he said. “Where did you get it?”
Behind you members of your crew had wonder out from below to collect the cargo the man was sitting on. Upon seeing him, your crew had gone still before panic whispers began to drift to your ears.
You placed the letter down on the barrel and took a step towards him. You weren’t stupid, you knew who this man was and how dangerous he could be. Normally you could get a read on pirates and what they wanted, but with Red-Hair Shanks you couldn’t tell what he wanted. “You’re on my ship.” You say after a moment.
“I am.” Shanks replied, taking another bite of the apple.
You took one step closer while looking into his eyes, “You stole my apple.”
A wider grin crossed his face, “I did.”
You extended a hand out, “That’ll be ten berries then.”
Shanks blinked, then started laughing like you’d told the funniest joke in the world. The red-haired captain wiped tears from his eyes. “I like you, your pretty funny.”
“I will change you inconvenience fee if you don’t get off my ship.” You replied with your hand still extended out.
Shanks hops off the create, taking your outstretched hand and before you could react, he flips it over and places a quick kiss on it, before hoping overboard with the rest of the apple. “Sorry got no berries on me right now, but I pay you back later.” He shouts over his shoulder before vanishing into the busy port.
And that is where your story involving Shanks should have ended. A strange encounter on one of the many islands in the grand line. It should have been a story your crew would tell in taverns that most people would never believe.
But instead, three months later, your lookout screamed. “PIRATES OFF THE STARBOARD SIDE!”
And your stomach dropped when you saw the flag; you had a run in with the captain of that crew a month back in bar. Let's just say, it didn’t end very well for the pirate and with the speed the ship was barreling towards yours; it was a good bet this wasn’t going to be friendly interaction.
“CAPTAIN ANOTHER OFF THE PORT SIDE!” You whipped around, were they going to attack you and your crew from both sides? Instead you saw a ship larger that most navy vessels, with the jolly roger with three scars over its left eye and crossed swords behind it. It was Red Hair Shanks ship, the Red Force and it was cutting through the water at a fast speed.
You tightened your grip on the starboard railing. You opened your mouth to begin shouting orders but before you could, “CAPTAIN! THE PIRATES OFF THE STARBOARD SIDE ARE TURNING BACK!” Your lookout screamed.
You turned your attention to that direction, and they were right. The pirate crew was changing course and rather quickly, but that still didn’t change the fact the Red Force was still coming towards you on the port side. As quickly as you turned around, you ran into someone. Your crew let out screams and shouts and there he was standing on your deck.
“Hey,” Shanks said casually, “Looked like you had some trouble coming your way”
“The only trouble I’m seeing is you.”
He grinned. “Well, I said I was going to pay you back for the apple. But since you are being like this, I think I will be holding on the berries for the timing being.”
You closed your eyes briefly, sighing, before looking at him. You and your crew would have been in trouble had the other pirate crew attacked, and the sight of the Red Force was enough to scare them off. “Well thank you for your help, is there anything I can help you with?”
He was grinning you like he was amused by everything you did; it was irritating. “Of course, Apple, happy to help.”
You folded your arms. "You're not calling me Apple."
Shanks tilted his head as though considering it. "Hm... Nah, Apple sounds good." Your eye twitched. "It's memorable," he continued cheerfully. "Merchant captains all blur together after a while. But you're the one who tried to charge me ten berries for an apple."
"You stole it." You said pointily.
"I borrowed it."
"You ate it."
"I borrowed it permanently."
Several members of your crew looked ready to faint. You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Give me the ten berries and then get off my ship."
Shanks laughed, bright and easy, the sound carrying over the water. “Sorry don’t have the money on me right now. Maybe next time.” Before you could formulate a response, he took two steps backward hopping up on the railing leaned backward over the railing and disappeared. A moment later came the unmistakable splash, followed by cheers from his crew aboard the Red Force as their captain surfaced in the water, waving as though he'd just visited an old friend instead of trespassing on a merchant vessel for the second time.
After that, you and your crew would run into the Red-Haired Pirates somewhat regularly.
There was the time a storm had ripped your sails, and his ship appeared on the horizon helping escort your ship to the nearest port for repairs. Shanks did spend all that time trying to talk to you; he was annoying but by the time your ship reached the port, you had softened up a bit and began engaging in conversation with him. You still weren’t able to get the ten berries you were owed.
In another instance, there was a partially rough island where you were making a special delivery too. The Red Force had pulled into the port not thirty minutes after you had arrived. You had planned to make the delivery yourself, but Shanks garbed the package before you could would only give it back if he could tag along. You relented and spent the next six hours hiking up and down one of the mountains with him to make the delivery. You again asked for the berries but no luck, once again claiming he didn’t have money on him.
Sometime days would go by, other times weeks, and occasionally months, when you would see Shanks and his crew. Sometimes you would run into them on the open water other times in towns. The Red-Haired Pirates were respectful of you and crew, and once your crew realized they weren’t going to hurt them, they quickly became friends with the members of Shanks crew.
The Red-Haired Pirate always paid for supplies (most of the time they would overpay). Once they bought twenty barrels of flour, they clearly didn't need. Your quartermaster whispered, "They're really good for business Cap."
"I know.”
The next time you saw him, it had been three months since your last encounter. You saw in the paper that he had been seen in the waters of the New World. You and your crew had been discussing if you wanted to start selling in the New World, while there was higher risk involved it also would be much more rewarding. If you decided to you were going to need a better ship and some more crew members. But there was still debate on it if it would be worth it.
You’d anchored near a small island to restock water. Nothing unusual, it was a standard merchant route, in water that was safe. Or at least as safe as the Grand Line could be. And to you and your crews surprise the Red Force was already there and as you stepped onto the dock and you immediately spotted Shanks sitting on a barrel like he owned the entire coastline. He looked up and grinned. “You’re late, Apple.”
“How can I be late, when I had no plans in meeting you here Shanks.” You asked smiling. You had grown used to his antics and actually began to miss him during these last three months.
“Details, details, you are late.” He said waving his hand.
"You still owe me ten berries." You said with a teasing grin.
He hopped of the barrel making his way closer to you, "I do, Apple that I do."
"And somehow you've managed to avoid paying that debt for a while now."
"I've been meaning to."
"You absolutely have not."
He flashed that grin that made your stomach flip. "No," he admitted. "Probably not." You couldn't stop the laugh that escaped you. Shanks looked over, smiling a little wider. "There it is."
"There what is?" You asked after you finished laughing.
"Don’t worry about it Apple.” He responded with a laugh of his own.
That night, your crews ended up drinking together again. Your first mate and Lucky Roux were engaged in what could only be described as a competitive eating involving an alarming amount of meat. Several high-stake cards games were happening. While some of the others were engaging in a drink game involving the dart board.
And you had wonder out to the docks and not far behind you was Shanks. You found yourself watching the stars that littered the horizon with him for awhile before you broke the silence. “You could have anything you want out here,” you said quietly. “Why do you keep coming back?”
He was silent for a moment gazing at the same stars, “Well there is something that I want here.”
“Treasure?” you asked.
“Well have a lot of that already but always looking for more.”
“Power?”
“Comes with the job.”
“Freedom?”
He looked at you then. “Always had that.” And then in voice barely louder than a whisper. "No there is just one thing that I want.”
You searched his face. For the first time since you'd met him, there wasn't a trace of his usual teasing grin. "What is it?" you asked softly.
Shanks reached into the pocket of his coat. "I've been carrying this around for a while."
He held out a small velvet pouch gently placing into the same hand that he had kissed all that time ago. You looked at it, then back at him. "What's this?"
"Open it." He said we gentle smile.
You untied the drawstring and tipped the contents into your palm. Nestled against in your palm was a necklace. Hanging from the fine gold chain was an apple carved from deep red ruby, the gem catching the moonlight making it almost glow. At the top, a tiny emerald leaf and stem completed it. For a long moment, all you could do was gaze at the apple necklace in your hand. "It's beautiful."
"You like it?"
You nodded. "It's incredible." Your thumb brushed over the small apple. "Why an apple?"
Shanks chuckled. "I figured when I paid you back for stealing yours, I'd have to make it worth the wait."
You looked up at him. "Shanks..."
"I know." He rubbed the back of his neck with an almost sheepish laugh. "It's probably more than ten berries."
"It's worth thousands."
He shrugged as though it was nothing. "I've owed you for a while."
Your fingers closed around the necklace looking into his eyes. "I can't accept something like this."
"Sure, you can."
"It's far too expensive."
"So?"
"So, it's yours."
He slid closer until only a small space separated the two of you. "No, it's yours." Before you could protest again, he gently took the necklace from your hand. "May I?" You hesitated before turning around. You felt his fingers brush lightly against the back of your neck as he fastened the clasp. The touch lasted only a second, but somehow it lingered. When you turned back, his smile softer than the one he wore for everyone else. "There."
You glanced down at the ruby apple resting against your chest. "I suppose this means we're even?"
Shanks laughed. "Oh, Apple." He leaned in just enough that only you could hear his next words. "I never wanted us to be even."
Summary: You getting hit on make Luffy feel something he isn't sure about.
Masterlist
The tavern was loud as music played by Brook and the local musicians through the crowded room, pirates and locals laughed over overflowing mugs, and in one corner Usopp was already telling an exaggerated story to anyone willing to listen with Chopper sitting front and center. Zoro and Nami were engaging in a drinking contest against some other pirates. Robin, Franky and Jinbe sat in a corner chatting away while Sanji hitting on one of the waitresses and failing miserably. All while Luffy was chowing down on any food he could reach, and you sat at a table near the center of the room, enjoying the chance to relax while the Straw Hats celebrated another successful adventure.
You had been watching Sanji’s failed attempt at flirting with waitress, when he appeared. It was a pirate from another crew that was also in the tavern. He was tall, confident, and entirely too charming for his own good. "So," he said, leaning against your chair with a grin, "someone as intriguing as you with the Straw Hats? Must be interesting."
You laughed politely. "A little."
"A little?" He chuckled. "I don't believe that, tell me more."
Across the room, Luffy was busy stuffing his face with meat, while at least, he had been. Now he was staring at you, not because the pirate looked threatening or that he thought there was a chance of danger, but there was something.
The pirate continued talking with you answering and smiling at the man. And for some reason, Luffy didn't like it, but he couldn't figure out why. The guy wasn't attacking you and you didn't seem upset. Everything was fine, you were fine. So why was he annoyed?
Luffy frowned while taking another bite of meat. The pirate laughed at something you said and Luffy stood up and made his way across the room, dropping down in the seat next to you.
The pirate blinked as the captain of the Straw Hats suddenly dropped into the seat beside you.
"Luffy?" You said, looking at him questioningly. He ignored your slight confusion and instead, he shoved himself right next to you until your shoulders touched, then resumed eating.
The pirate looked confused. "Uh... hello." Luffy stared, chewed, and stared harder. The pirate shifted uncomfortably, looking at you and then Luffy.
You glanced between them. "Luffy, what are you doing?"
"Eating."
"You were eating over there."
"Now I'm eating here." The answer seemed perfectly reasonable to him.
The pirate laughed awkwardly and he tried talking to you again. "So, anyway, as I was saying.."
Luffy suddenly grabbed your hand while still eating and you nearly choked. The pirate stopped talking. Luffy kept eating, still holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your face warmed. "Luffy?"
"Hm?"
"Why are you holding my hand?"
He looked down, as if he had only just noticed. “Dunno, felt like it."
The pirate's smile was beginning to crack. "Oh." You said nodding still trying to process Luffy’s actions.
A long silence followed and the priate attempted one last recovery. "Well, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to join me for a...”
"No." The pirate blinked, you blinked, and Luffy kept eatting.
"No?" the pirate repeated.
"No." Luffy said again.
"But I wasn't asking you."
Luffy's grip tightened slightly around your fingers. "No."
The pirate looked completely baffled. "Why not?"
Luffy opened his mouth, then closed it, because he genuinely didn't know. Why didn't he want you walking with this guy? Why did he keep wanting to sit next to you? Why was he annoyed every time the pirate smiled at you? None of it made sense. But he knew one thing, he didn't like it. "I just don't want you to."
A faint blush crept onto your cheeks. "Why?" you asked quietly.
Luffy didn't have an answer as his eyes met yours then drifted down to your joined hands and then back up to your eyes again The noisy tavern seemed strangely distant, like everyone else had disappeared. It was just you and him and that weird feeling twisting inside his chest “Because I like having you around."
Your heart skipped and the pirate immediately stood. "Okay." You didn’t try to stop him. "Good luck with... whatever this is." Then he practically fled, but you barely noticed. Because Luffy was still looking at you and still holding your hand.
"So..." you said carefully.
"Yeah?"
"Are you jealous?" Luffy frowned, thinking hard, very hard. Just long enough that you almost laughed.
Then his eyes widened. "Oh." A pause. "Oh." Another pause and then, "Yeah."
Your smile brightens. "Luffy" You squeezed his hand. "I like having you around too." The grin that spread across his face was bright. And for the rest of the night, whenever anyone tried sitting beside you or talking to you, Luffy was right there.
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.”
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.
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.
