Hiiii! This is my second request! I was thinking about the old gen dilfs (Rayleigh, gaban and Roger) discovering f reader touching yourself herself in her cabin, how would they react?
I love those dilfs! Hope you like it!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
All you wanted to do was have some alone time, taking care of yourself. So after a long hot bath, you went back to your private cabin, not bothering to put on any clothes and letting yourself rest on your bed while your hand slowly moved down to your center.
Who could blame you for getting horny on a ship full of sexy dilfs, it gives you free range to think of good looking men, although your mind was set on one individual only.
Maybe next time you should also lock the door.
Rayleigh
The second he stepped into the room, he already forgot why he wanted to talk with you in the first place
His brain stopped working as his eyes were glued to your naked form
And you, you just stared in shock at the first mate, your whole body freezing as you stared at him in return
Honestly, unless you were already flirting and have made out in a bar before, he would be respectful, say he was sorry for bargin in and leave unless you tell him not to
If you already were in a flirty relationship he would jokingly ask if he could assist you
And if the two of you were already dating, he would make his way over, casually throwing off his shirt and kissing you breathlessly
Would not initiate sex but would take care of you, making you cum on his fingers while he caresses and kisses all your sweet spots
His goal is to have your legs shaking and moaning his name while he finger fucks you to your release
And after you came, he will give you a minute to catch your breath before settling between your legs
Rayleigh may say he just wants to clean you up but you both know your first orgasm was just the start
Gaban
Horny bastard!
I said it a bunch of times already but he is just horny and addicted to pussy
You dont even need to see his eyes to know he is looking you up and down, wanting to memorize the view forever
Licks his lips and asks cocky if you need any help
If you agree, he will pounce on you
If you two are already in a relationship, there is no mercy
In a fllash he will be on you, spreading your legs and forcing your hand away from your sex so he can dive right in
If someone would ask Gaban "If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life" he will answer "Pussy!"
He will eat you out until HE is satisfied
Which means your mind is empty, you cant feel your body and the bed is drenched
Before that, he wont stop, dont even try to pull on his hair, it only turns him on more
Roger
In his mind, he is the captain, he doesnt need to knock
So when he walks into your room and sees you naked with your fingers knuckle deep sinside your pussy, he knows why he never knocks
He was WAITING for this opportunity and practice what to say beforehand
Man is just cocky and horny
"You help need?" And he fucked it up, maybe if he smiles and winks he can still save it? No it just looked like he had a near stroke
Help that man, he is terrible at flirting!
If you decide to let him help and not just throw the first thing next to you at him, he will prove to you that he is not as imcompetent as he first seems
Eagerly kisses and you and lets his hands run all over your body
I see him as a boobies man, no matter if small or big, his mouth will stay on them while his thick fingers fuck you until you squirt
And yes, thats his secret talent, he can make anyone squirt without having to try
Even if you think you cant do it, he will make you do it
OP dilfs who are down bad for someone who is oblivious to they obvious affections
They would literally EXPLODE. Almost every single one of them 😭😭
Red haired Spanks
The whore is used to immediately get what it wants with its charme. He is hateful. And you will make him go CRAZY. poor beckman ia the real victim here because he has to listen to shanks being even more dramatic than usual. His flirting with you will multiply by 6 TIMES. HE WILL EVEN START TO USE HIS WORST UGLY FLIRTING PHRASES TO MAKE IT OBVIOUS HE LIKES YOU. Nothing works. He became MAD. Finally he will show up naked in the communal showers and flirt directly with you, probably hard too. You've been so much around meb you don't even blink. He get on his knees and uses Roger's secret technique to get pussy "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE" Exasperation.
World's most perfect man Benn beckman
He consider himself a smart man. He plans his every move and yet he didn't predicted your.. Stupidity? How should he call it. Well you were oblivious to him wooing you. HARD. He did it a lot. It wasn't clear for the crew that he was trying to woo you, he still made it subtle around them, but he didn't get how YOU didn't understand. He will sit with you one day and tell you straight up
Eater in search of a mountain
Gaban is about to KILL HIMSELF. he's blatantly in love, he's always hard and can barely contain himself from touching you all day long. Since the start he thought he made it clear, but you still didn't get the message. He consider himself to be a man capable of a LOT of patience, but for the first time in years he was losing it . He needed you HARD. He made it so obvious events your friends in the crew talked to you about it. You didn't believe them. The day you finally get the message began with him twisting your hammock and making your asleep body fell onto his. He grabbed your hips gently before whispering a "can i?" and smacking his lips against yours as soon as you register the answer
Gol D mental issues
He started to DECAY physically after 2 nights of uninterrupted screaming. The crew was desperate and worried for his health. Mind you, you didn't get his intensions for 3 days. He felt so frustrated, probably never felt like this before in his life. As he was making his testament, you got in his cabin, deadly worried and crying. As he exhaled his last breath he said "i love.. You sugar tits" " captain.. Captain no don't die! I love you too!" he regain ALL his strength immediately. It's embarrassing. Rayleigh was about to kill Roger and himself after such a scene. But he left you two alone instead, after all Roger already had his tongue in your mouth by now
Sexy king Rayleigh
THE NORMAL ONE. OMG. He simply finds it cute initially, laugh at it in a genuine disbelief. But you can tell when he's serious. By the way he looks at you, like he could already taste the Flavour of your lips (im so poetic). You still don't believe it. You did felt something, a strike to your heart, but rayleigh ks basically always serious.. And that was probably a joke, right? NO CUNT, GO AND KISS HIM. You can even formulate the thought before he kisses you first.
I find the idea of grown ass men being like… a giggling high schooler when it comes to his crush
SO HEAR ME OUT HERE‼️
Scenario or HC (whatever is fine) with Shanks, Rodger, and Smoker have a crush that has them doing whatever is their equivalent to kicking their feet
Reader has no clue. They’re just like “Man, he’s so nice!” Then continuing on with their day
Basically what I’m asking for is how these men would react to having such a childish crush
I love your idea! I hope you like those headcanons, enjoy!💕
SHANKS
⚔️This man is eagerly waiting to see you every time, just seeing you from afar has brightened his day. If you speak with him, it will the best day in the history.
⚔️He can’t believe that his womanizing charm doesn’t work with you. Yes, you’re nice and you’ve even approached to him to talk before; that would normal for anyone else. But not for him
⚔️Suddenly, you brush his arm and his heart seem is going to burst. Yassop swears that Akagami no Shanks once stuttered in your presence.
⚔️He has meetings (we call them pirate’s slumber parties) with Beckman, where Shanks wearing his face mask and holing a glass of rum in this hand and he tells his officer: “Oh my Goid, she looked gorgeous today”, “Did you notice she has changed her shampoo?” “She had a ribbon in her hair today, it looked great on her”.
⚔️Shanks forces Beck to wear a mask, too.
⚔️He’s even more charming than usual when he’s talking with you and if any of his crew appears out of nowhere, he give them a death glare to tell them get lost.
ROGER
🏴☠️This man is crazy about you. He would sell his soul to the devil himself for you smile at him.
🏴☠️He has not qualms about saying what he thinks, so he goes all out.
🏴☠️Just like Shanks, he tells Rayleigh and Gaban everytime he sees you how beautiful are you and how shiny your hair is. Once Gaban suggested he kidnap you.
🏴☠️Roger almost did it. But Rayleigh stopped him.
🏴☠️He’s tried all sort of trick to be with you: sinking other ships, sending you presents, tracking you down and suddenly he’s showing up to help you with the shopping bags.
🏴☠️Once you touched his hand and he almost chocked on with his own saliva and happiness.
SMOKER
🚬This man is trying to stay calm, he is really trying. Spoiler alert: he’s failing miserably.
🚬You’ll hear clear his throat a lot in your presence and no because he wants to get your attention, but because every time he sees you, he gets breathless, his mind goes blank and he forgets every else.
🚬Once you smiled him and Tashigi wondered if he’d had a concussion.
🚬He often make excuses about having paperwork to do so can lock himself in his office. But the truth is he ran into you and you gave him a report and your hand touched. Even with gloves on, he felt the warmth of your skin.
🚬Now he’s locked in his office imagining what your wedding will be like, with his heart pounding his ribs and his face blushed.
Im so thrilled to see you back and healthy!! If i could, ive been dealing with a ton of chronic pain, especially in my hand (carpal tunnel sucks) so maybe Marco, Beckman, Ace and if you have it in you, Sanji helping reader deal with that pain. For reference it makes the entire hand hurt and you have to clench the tendons to get some relief
Hi darling, thanks you, I'm really sorry for your pain, I hope you're feeling better ❤️🩹, also I hope you enjoy I tried my best
𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚘, 𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚗, 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚓𝚒, 𝙰𝚌𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗
𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕠
You were curled up on a deck chair, cradling your throbbing hand against your chest. The pain had been relentless all day, and no matter how you positioned your wrist, the sharp, electric sensations continued to shoot up your arm.
"There's my favorite patient," Marco's warm voice carried across the deck as he approached with that distinctive stride of his. "Looking particularly miserable today, yoi."
You managed a weak smile. "And here I thought I was hiding it so well."
He sat beside you, his blue eyes soft with concern as he took your uninjured hand. "You know, for someone as smart as you, you're terrible at taking care of yourself."
Before you could respond, he gently took your aching hand, his touch impossibly careful. "Let me see what's going on with this stubborn wrist of yours."
As his phoenix flames began to glow faintly around your wrist, the pain gradually subsided. "You're clenching again," he noted. "I've told you that only makes it worse."
"It's the only thing that brings temporary relief," you admitted, watching the blue flames dance around your fingers.
"Temporary being the key word," he replied, his thumb gently stroking your palm. "You need to break that cycle, love."
The endearment made your heart flutter despite the pain. "I'll try to be more compliant with my doctor's orders."
"See that you do," he said with a small smile. "Or I might have to resort to more drastic measures."
"Like what?" you challenged playfully. "Tying my hand down so I can't clench it?"
His eyes glinted with mischief. "I was thinking more along the lines of distracting you so thoroughly you forget about the pain entirely."
You raised an eyebrow. "Is that part of your medical training?"
"Special course," he replied deadpan. "Advanced pain management through distraction techniques."
As his healing powers continued to flow into your hand, you decided to tease him. "You know, for someone who's part bird, you're surprisingly good with hands."
Marco chuckled, not missing a beat. "Well, I've had centuries to practice. Besides, phoenixes aren't just any birds—we're quite talented in many areas."
"Oh really?" you teased, feeling better now that the pain was decreasing. "Is that why you strut around the deck sometimes? I've definitely noticed some chicken-like qualities there."
He raised an eyebrow but continued his work. "I do not strut, yoi. That's called dignified walking. And if I recall correctly, you seem to enjoy watching me walk."
Your cheeks warmed at his directness. "I might have noticed once or twice."
"Once or twice?" he teased back. "I've caught you watching more than that, my dear."
Before you could respond, he gently brought your palm to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin. "How's that for distraction?" he murmured against your hand.
Your breath caught slightly. "Getting better."
He smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good. Now, how does that feel? Better?"
The pain had indeed subsided significantly, replaced by a pleasant warmth that had nothing to do with his phoenix flames. "Much better, thank you. You're a miracle worker, Marco."
"Just doing my job as your doctor," he said, though he didn't release your hand. "And as your partner. Now, how about we get some dinner? I hear Thatch's making something special tonight, and I promise not to peck at your food."
You laughed carefully. "I'd like that, Marco. Even if you do walk a bit like a chicken when you think no one's watching."
He shook his head with a grin as he helped you up. "One of these days, I'm going to charge you for my medical services and my comedic material. But for now, this one's on the house."
𝔹𝕖𝕟𝕟 𝔹𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕞𝕒𝕟
You sat in the crow's nest, trying to read but finding it difficult to focus with the constant ache in your hand. Every attempt to turn a page sent another wave of pain through your wrist and fingers.
"Hiding from everyone again?" Beckman's voice startled you slightly as he appeared at the ladder. He climbed up with his usual effortless grace, settling beside you with a cigarette already lit.
"Just enjoying the view," you replied, trying to hide your discomfort by subtly shifting your position.
He didn't miss a thing. "The view or the pain? Because I know that face, and it's not one of someone enjoying scenery."
When you didn't answer immediately, he gently took your hand to examine it. "You're clenching again. That's the worst thing you can do for carpal tunnel, as I believe I've mentioned approximately fifty times before."
"I know," you admitted quietly. "But it feels like the only thing that helps sometimes, even if it's just temporary."
"That's because you're temporarily relieving the pressure, but then causing more inflammation," he explained, his touch surprisingly gentle as he helped you uncurl your fingers. "But don't let me stop you from ignoring sound medical advice. It's worked so well for you thus far."
You shot him a look but couldn't maintain your annoyance given the relief his touch brought. "You're in a charming mood today."
Beckman pulled a small tin from his pocket and removed what looked like a homemade salve. "Try this. It's a mixture I learned to make—helps with inflammation and nerve pain. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to suffer in silence. Some people seem to enjoy martyrdom."
As he carefully applied it to your wrist and hand, you felt immediate cooling relief. "This is amazing," you said in surprise. "What's in it?"
"Just some herbs, a bit of beeswax, and something special from my home island," he replied vaguely. "Not that you'd appreciate the effort. You're too busy being stubborn."
You watched his skilled hands as he continued to massage the salve into your skin. "You're surprisingly good at this for someone who pretends not to care."
"Someone has to take care of you since you refuse to do it yourself," he grumbled, though his ears seemed slightly pink. "It's a full-time job, I might add."
Before you could respond, he gently turned your hand over and pressed his lips against your palm. The unexpected tenderness made your breath catch.
"Don't get sentimental on me," he said, not looking up from your hand. "Just practical application of affection. Scientifically proven to help with pain management."
You smiled at his attempt to rationalize the romantic gesture. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"
"Among other things," he replied dryly, finally meeting your eyes. There was something soft in his gaze that contradicted his sarcastic words. "Now, want to hear about the time I fought off a Sea King with nothing but a knife and sheer determination? Might take your mind off the pain, and I know how much you enjoy my stories."
"I do enjoy them," you admitted, settling back against the mast.
"Of course you do," he said with a smirk. "I'm an excellent storyteller. Almost as excellent as I am at taking care of stubborn partners who refuse to follow medical advice."
You leaned your head against his shoulder, finding comfort not just in his treatment but in his quiet, steady presence beside you. "Thank you, Beckman."
"Don't mention it," he replied, though he made no move to shift away from your touch. "Literally. Don't mention it to anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
"Your reputation as the tough, unfeeling first mate?" you teased gently.
"Exactly," he agreed with a rare small smile. "And as someone who definitely doesn't kiss palms and apply homemade salves. That would ruin the entire mystique."
𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕛𝕚
You were attempting to help in the kitchen, but the pain in your hand made even simple tasks excruciating. Every time you tried to chop vegetables, the grip on the knife sent shooting pains up your arm.
"My dear, you're doing that all wrong!" Sanji appeared at your side, gently taking the knife from your trembling hand. "And you're clearly in pain. Why must you always try to hide these things from me?"
"I didn't want to bother you," you admitted, rubbing your wrist futilely. "You're always so busy with meals for everyone."
Sanji's expression softened immediately as he took your face in his hands. "You are never a bother. You are my priority. Everything else comes second to your wellbeing."
He guided you to a nearby chair. "Sit. Let me take care of everything. As I always should when you're hurting."
He disappeared into his pantry and returned with a collection of herbs and a mortar and pestle. "This will help with the inflammation," he explained, beginning to grind the ingredients together. "While I prepare this, tell me about your day. Don't leave out any details—I want to know everything."
As you talked, he worked efficiently, creating a paste that he then gently applied to your wrist and hand. The relief was almost immediate—a cooling sensation that seemed to draw out the pain.
"How did you learn to make remedies like this?" you asked in wonder.
"A good cook knows more than just recipes," he replied with a modest shrug. "But more importantly, a man in love learns how to care for the person who holds his heart. Your pain is my pain, my dear."
Your heart swelled at his words. "Sanji..."
He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch feather-light. "No, don't speak. Just let me care for you as you deserve to be cared for."
Sanji finished applying the paste and then carefully wrapped your hand in a clean cloth, his movements precise and practiced. "There now. That should provide some relief. But I'm afraid the real cure requires more extensive treatment."
"What kind of treatment?" you asked, watching as he began preparing what looked like a special meal just for you.
"First, you'll eat this dish I'm preparing especially for you," he said, adding spices to a simmering pot. "It contains ingredients that will help reduce inflammation from the inside out. Then, you'll rest while I handle all your duties for the evening."
"You don't have to do all that," you protested weakly.
"Nonsense," he replied firmly. "Taking care of you is not a burden—it's my greatest joy. There is nothing I would rather do than ease your suffering and bring comfort to your days."
As he cooked, he occasionally glanced over at you with such adoration that it made your chest ache in a completely different way. "You know, when I first learned to cook, I never imagined that the greatest pleasure would come not from feeding the crew, but from nurturing the one person who means everything to me."
He brought over a steaming bowl of what appeared to be a fragrant vegetable soup with herbs you didn't recognize. "This will help with the inflammation. But more importantly, it was made with all my love for you."
As you ate, he knelt beside your chair, watching you with concern. "Is it good? Does your hand feel better?"
"It's delicious," you assured him. "And yes, the pain is much better. You're too good to me, Sanji."
He took your free hand, pressing it to his cheek. "There is no such thing as 'too good' when it comes to you. I would move mountains, cross seas, and face any danger if it meant bringing you even a moment of comfort."
His devotion was overwhelming in the best possible way. "I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you."
"You existed," he replied simply. "You came into my life and filled it with meaning. That is all you ever had to do."
He helped you finish eating, then insisted on carrying you to your room despite your protests. "I can walk," you insisted.
"And I can carry the woman I love to her bed when she's in pain," he countered gently, lifting you with surprising ease.
Once in your room, he helped you settle into bed, propping pillows behind your back. "I'll bring you some herbal tea that will help you sleep. And I'll check on you throughout the night to make sure you're comfortable."
"You don't need to do all that," you said again, though you secretly loved how attentive he was.
"I want to," he insisted, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Your comfort is my purpose. Your wellbeing is my mission. Your happiness is my reason for being."
As he left to fetch the tea, you marveled at how someone could be so completely devoted. When he returned, he helped you drink the tea, then sat beside you, stroking your hair until your eyes grew heavy.
"Sleep now, my love," he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake. I'm always here for you."
The last thing you felt before drifting off was his gentle kiss on your bandaged hand—a promise of care, devotion, and a love that healed in ways medicine never could.
𝔸𝕔𝕖
You were wedged between barrels in the storage room, attempting to bite back a groan as another wave of pain shot through your hand. The throbbing had reached a new level of unbearable today, and you'd resorted to hiding where no one could see you clenching your fist.
"Ah, the secret headquarters of the Hand-Hiders Club," Ace's voice echoed dramatically from the doorway. "Is this where you plot world domination, or just where you come to suffer in silence?"
You jumped, quickly shoving your hand behind your back. "Just admiring the barrel craftsmanship. It's really quite impressive."
Ace sauntered in, his signature grin already in place. "Right. The barrels. Not the fact that you're hiding because your hand feels like it's being squeezed by a very angry crab." He plopped down in front of you, completely uninvited. "You know, for someone who spends so much time with me, you're surprisingly bad at asking for help."
"I'm independent," you retorted, trying to sound dignified while being wedged between storage containers.
"Independent," Ace nodded sagely. "Is that what we're calling it? I call it 'stubbornly refusing to let your favorite, most handsome, and most powerful boyfriend use his devil fruit abilities to help you.'" He wiggled his fingers. "These aren't just for show, you know. They have therapeutic properties."
You couldn't help but crack a small smile. "Therapeutic properties? Did you read that in a medical journal?"
"No, I read it in the 'Ace is Awesome and Also Surprisingly Helpful' handbook," he replied deadpan, gently taking your clenched hand. "Now, let Dr. Fire Fist work his magic. First, we'll need to relax this death grip you've got going."
As his hands warmed around your wrist, a pleasant heat began to seep into your aching joints. "You know," he continued conversationally as your fingers slowly uncurled, "I've been thinking about this carpal tunnel situation. What if we just burned through the problem? Like, cauterized the pain away? I've been practicing my precision work."
You shot him a look. "Please don't practice precision burning on my hand."
"Fine, fine," he sighed dramatically. "No experimental procedures without your written consent. I'll save that for our next date night." As the pain began to fade, he leaned in conspiratorially. "You know what this reminds me of? The time I tried to learn to knit. My hands were all cramped up like this."
"You tried to knit?" you asked in disbelief.
"Hey, I was going to make us matching scarves!" he defended himself. "But it turns out that fire and yarn don't mix well. Who knew?" He grinned as your hand relaxed completely in his. "See? All better. Dr. Ace's special flame therapy works every time."
The relief was so significant you felt tears welling up. "It really doesn't hurt anymore."
"Of course not," he said proudly. "I'm a man of many talents. Fire manipulation, navigation, terrible puns, and now, apparently, physical therapy." He brought your palm to his lips, pressing a comically exaggerated kiss against your skin. "There. That's the finishing touch. Scientifically proven to increase healing by at least 47 percent."
You laughed, the sound feeling foreign after hours of pain. "Where do you get these statistics?"
"I make them up," he admitted cheerfully. "But you can't deny they sound convincing." He helped you up from your barrel prison, still holding your hand. "Now, as your doctor, I'm prescribing immediate meat consumption and at least three bad jokes before dinner."
"Only three?" you teased.
"Well, five if you're good," he amended with a wink. "But no more hiding from me when you're hurting. Deal?"
"Deal," you agreed, letting him lead you toward the galley. "Though I should warn you, I might start faking injuries just to get the special Ace treatment."
He squeezed your hand gently. "You don't need to fake anything. You've got unlimited access to me, pain or no pain. Though if you start asking for the flame therapy too often, I might have to start charging. I'm thinking one meatball per treatment."
"Deal," you laughed. "But you're giving me a discount for being your favorite patient, right?"
Ace's grin widened. "You're not just my favorite patient—you're my only patient. And you get the family discount, which means you get me for free. Lucky you."
And with that question, you have approximately a second to decide what your next course of action will be. Luffy’s partially descended down the ladder to the library, and while he keeps his distance across the room still, it’s only because he’s fairly confident that he’s right. You can either choose to lie, and say everything is okay, pretend you haven’t heard him at all, or tell him the truth, that you’re actually quite annoyed with him, enough so that you’ve decided to bury your head in a book until the feeling abates, but none of these options will avoid a conversation, now that he’s initiated one.
You’re just as bad a liar as him, and he’s as direct as you are indirect at times.
Choosing not to speak, you give him a glance, then look back to your book. He freezes for a moment, then decides to risk it anyway, making his way over and sitting beside you on the edge of the bench. You turn away slightly, and he frowns, and his hand hovers over your shoulder for a moment, before deciding to keep them at his sides.
“What are you reading?”
“Luffy, does it matter? Do you want to read it?” you snap.
He sighs.
“You didn’t answer my first question.”
Back to this again. You turn your head again, a little thrown off when you realize he’s closer than you expected him to be, but give him a scowl.
“Well, I’m mad now.”
Not really a lie, not really the truth.
He’s unfazed as usual, and instead of the childish pout he would give if the situation were lower in stakes, his mouth remains a thin, neutral line, as he watches you carefully, as if the words to decipher your current mix of emotions will be printed on your skin if he looks hard enough.
“It’s been a few hours.”
“It’ll be more if you don’t get away from me, Luffy.”
The neutral smile curves downwards just slightly. The two of you lock into what’s almost a staredown if a staredown could be one-sided, then too quick for you to perceive, your book is out of his hands and dropped on the other side of the room, several feet away.
Your eyes widen.
“Hey!”
You rise, but his other hand stops you gently.
“I’ll give it back to you, I promise.”
You tilt your head in defiance.
“If you don’t return my book right now, I’ll…” but you trail off, because Luffy is not going to budge at all - his face is unchanged from the slight concern he’s had since he’s come down to the library, and you feel a little silly pressing the issue. You deflate slightly, sitting back down, then pulling your knees to your chest.
He doesn’t say anything as you gather your thoughts, simply watching the way he usually does - people, insects, the clouds in the sky, the stretch of the sea, but you can see him lean just slightly inwards, as if he’s drawn to the settling storm in your head.
“Tell me,” he says, softly.
“It’s stupid.”
Your lower lip pulls between your teeth.
“Good. I’ll understand it.”
You blink, then unfortunately, you can’t help but laugh. But he isn’t smiling immediately, gaze still focused on you, and you almost feel a bit guilty for laughing but also for pressing the issue. You shift a bit in your seat, running a hand idly through your hair for a moment, then press your chin onto your knees. Luffy does keep his hands to himself, but he also crosses his legs, now balanced atop the bench, facing you.
“You’re…” you trail off, looking away at the ground, then back at him.
“I’m…?”
“Handsy.”
He blinks, then tilts his head slightly.
“Like touching you too much?”
He recognizes he’s trying very hard not to touch you right now, but it doesn’t seem to add up to him appropriately, and you shake your head.
“Not me.”
Luffy pauses for a moment. He knows he’s grabby, he knows he likes to hug, he knows he doesn’t always know where his hands are, but why would you care if he’s not touching you when you don’t want to be touched?
“I…” he scratches his chin, then chooses to listen instead. It seems to have the opposite effect, because your nostrils flare, annoyed.
“Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?” you ask, now with the sensation of your face hovering over a hot stove.
“I mean… maybe?” Luffy asks. He’s keeping an internal record of who he may have accidentally dragged, pushed, hugged too tightly, or intentionally fought - he knows sometimes you have an issue with fighting - or if he’s not listened when you told him to stop touching something you were working on in the lab or-
“Stop touching other people so much, it’s kind of…” your voice trails off again.
Luffy’s mouth twists to the side.
“Are you going to finish your sentences?”
Your hand balls into a fist but you don’t even have the energy to tap him on the shoulder. You deflate further then look towards your book across the room.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing because you’re sad and won’t finish your sentences,” he insists, and there’s a bit of an edge to his voice, although it reins in when you look at him again. And then you’re embarrassed that you’re so pitiful.
Jealousy is such an embarrassing feeling. Feels too immature in a world like this that’s in need of love, unfiltered, and feels too selfish when you’re with a man that cares about you as much as he does, but it’s just hard to swallow at times.
But Luffy won’t leave unless you talk - you’ve given the cold shoulder long enough, and even if he won’t understand, if he doesn’t hear something, you’ll end up in this situation again.
You take a deep breath, then close your eyes before speaking.
“If you’re that handsy and affectionate with everyone, it just makes it feel less special, you know?”
It stays quiet long enough that your eyes do open to check his expression, and as usual it’s hard to read.
For someone so kind, he’s often so, so hard to read.
“It’s not less special,” he says first, as you expected.
“I know,” you rebut quickly.
But tears prick at your eyes anyway. He’s not going to understand this no matter how hard you try, and it’s not something you should repeat anyway.
“It’s fine, it’s just-”
Luffy moves suddenly, pulling you into his arms tightly.
“I’m not trying to make you sad,” he says into your ear. You can feel your pulse quicken for a moment. As your bodies stay pressed close, he adds,
“It’s always different when it’s you, I promise.”
“... I know.”
“Every time, it’s special when it’s you.”
“...”
You don’t know what else to add. You don’t want to limit the love he gives to others, you don’t want to make his smile less wide, and you can’t help the love he gets from others.
“I understand.”
He laughs to himself for a moment, then adds.
“If you let me touch you ten times as much-”
You slap him on the shoulder gently.
“Don’t push it.”
He pulls apart from you, then kisses your forehead.
“Never.”
Another pause as you behold each other, and your unique affections.
“But if I start getting touchy, you have to promise to pull me away instead of getting mad.”
His hands close gently on your face, a small amount of pressure squishing your cheeks out.
“Promise.”
“You know I can’t do that,” you laugh.
“Or frown really big, okay?”
“Luffy, that’s even more unreasonable.”
“I don’t care what you do, as long as you’re not sad, okay?”
His forehead presses gently against yours as he insists.
“Promise. I want you to feel like you’re special to me, because it’s true.”
You pull back just a little bit, appreciating the smile returned back to his face, the same one that makes you feel tender and loved, and yes, unique to you and your shared love.
Summary: It's a humbling experience when a usually confident man finds himself emotionally threatened by a nineteen year old boy who happens to have a close relationship with the woman he loves.
Note: This was a request I unintentionally neglected for a year.
“What are the five S’s?”
Your brows furrowed and you stopped kneading your dough. You stared at the ball, concentrating on your search for the answer. Mihawk always did this. Gave you random test questions all because you once offhandedly mentioned you’d like to know more about wine.
He waited patiently, his body turned to you and his hip against the counter. It wasn’t often time allowed him to really take you in, so when you invited him to be your sous chef, he jumped at the opportunity.
Head shooting up when the answer finally came, Mihawk wished the beaming grin you gave him would stay forever. It was one of the most beautiful sights to behold.
“See, swirl, sniff, sip, savor!”
The corner of his lip twitched upwards. “Very good.”
Your smile turned teasing. “Dracule Mihawk, did you just give out praise? What if word gets out to the whole house?”
The swordsman noticed how you moved a little closer. The smell of your perfume invaded his senses and he tried committing it to memory. It was everywhere you were and over time, it became you. Your previous presence in a room was able to be traced and he was always led to where you actually were, your soft smile inviting him to make up something to converse about.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. No one would believe you anyway.”
Your giggle rung through the kitchen and it was as if the entirety of Kuraigana suddenly became exposed to sunlight.
Notoriously nonchalant, Dracule Mihawk was now faced with a truth he couldn’t bring himself to speak aloud. And certainly not to you.
He was absolutely in love with you. And you constantly seeking his praise and asking him to be the first person to try whatever new thing you cooked, was not helping his situation whatsoever.
The soft clanking of swords forced him to stop staring and instead turn to the doorway. Zoro stood, speaking only to you.
“When are you two going to be finished? It’s been two hours and even I know pizza shouldn’t take this long.”
Your gaze remained on Mihawk, but your smile turned softer at Zoro’s voice.
“Some patience would be appreciated, Zo. We’re cooking for four and pizza is not the only thing there is.”
The boy grumbled under his breath, prompting you to gesture towards the refrigerator. “There is a newly bought six pack in there to get you through this difficult time.”
Zoro grabbed the beers. As he passed you to leave, he landed a heavy hand on your shoulder, shaking it as a silent thank you. You pat his hand and he leaves shortly after.
It’s times like these Mihawk is reminded he never stood a chance. Not when you and his protégé had such a close relationship. How is he, too full of fear to even return the brush of your hand when walking side by side, supposed to compete with someone who just yesterday fell asleep on your shoulder during a movie night (which you did not invite Mihawk to, not that he cares)?
Sure, you and he playfully flirted here and there during sparring, but maybe that was just something you did when the adrenaline was rushing. Maybe the late-night conversations over a bottle of wine were friendly. Maybe when he surprised you with wine trivia, your grin was because you were reminiscing on a conversation with Zoro.
He was broken from his stewing by your hand on his bicep.
“Everything okay in that busy head of yours?”
His skin burned where your hand lay and he spared a moment to savor it.
“Perfectly fine. We should finish before Perona decides she’s had enough waiting.”
The Gods blessed him with another one of your laughs as you squeezed his arm once, returning to your task.
Later at the dinner table, you’re seated between Mihawk and Zoro. Perona sits across from you, telling a story about her day to anyone who bothered to tune in.
The owner of the house turned just in time to see you playfully shove Zoro who was smiling down at his plate as he leaned back into place.
The grip on Mihawk’s fork grew tighter and you only took notice when you saw the top beginning to bend.
You lightly kick his shin under the table. “What’s going on with you?”
He stabbed his fork into his pizza and grumbled, “Nothing.”
You shook your head and returned to your conversation with Zoro.
After dinner, you found Mihawk in his study. You didn’t bother knocking, as he never complained when you entered without permission.
He was facing the window, looking out over the small training yard. His eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular. He was unmoving and his breathing steady. This was clearly a man in deep contemplation.
“Any crises swimming in that brain of yours I can help with?”
You did not receive a response. How was he meant to tell you the only crisis in his life is the fact that he’s in love with a woman he can’t have?
“I fear you don’t have knowledge in the kind of situation I’m in.”
The familiar scent of you intensified when you stood beside him. You watched him while his own gaze stayed through the glass. He couldn’t bear to look at you in such a low moment.
“Wouldn’t hurt to try,” you said softly.
“I’m in love with someone. Someone who does not see me the same.”
In his peripheral, your smile faltered. He wondered why. Maybe you just lost some respect for him. He was a mighty warlord, a legendary swordsman, known for his ability to remain calm under the utmost pressure. And now, he’s just a boy complaining about his crush not liking him back.
He was about to retract everything when,
“I know we’ve never gotten into the nitty gritty of our lives, but,” you began.
A moment passed where the only noise was the faint sound of Perona and Zoro arguing in the foyer.
“I’ve definitely been in that situation a time or two.”
Mihawk was both surprised and wanting to die at the same time. You? The most beautiful woman on the seas had experience with unrequited love? And also, you’re making the conscious choice to have this conversation with him?
“What was your strategy?”
You snorted. “It’s not sword fighting, Mihawk. There is no strategy. You say your feelings and… just hope they reciprocate. If they don’t, you learn to live with it.”
Mihawk couldn’t keep the tone out of his voice. “Is that how you approached Zoro then? With hope?”
You had furrowed brows and a confused smile when he turned to finally look at you.
“Approached Zoro? What are you talking about?”
“When you began dating.”
His ears tinged red when you guffawed.
“Dating? Are you insane? Do I look like a cradle robber?”
As much as he would like to believe he kept his composure, something in his expression must have given away his confusion because yours morphed into one of amused surprise.
He quickly tried to defend himself. “You’re both the same age.”
“Mihawk, Zoro is nineteen. I’m twenty-seven.”
The great warlord and legendary swordsman, known far and wide for his intelligence and skill, never bothered to ask your age.
“You’re twenty-seven.”
You confirm, “I’m twenty-seven.”
“I met Zoro when he was seventeen and escaping some bounty hunters on my island. He needed a place to hide, so he stayed with me for a couple of weeks. I taught him some tips with his swords and we started writing to each other.”
“You dote on him a lot.” The jealousy was so loud, you were sure Perona and Zoro could hear it from the other side of the house.
“I dote on him because he’s lonely. He doesn’t have his crew, you’re understandably hard on him, Perona annoys him, so he wrote me asking me to come visit.”
The pieces were beginning to finally form the picture.
“And he was too embarrassed to admit that, so he made it seem like you showed up on your own wanting pointers,” Mihawk concluded.
“Yeah. I’ve, uh, been handling swords since childhood.”
He hummed. “So you and Zoro are not together.”
“Correct. However, he did tease me in his letters, saying I would end up an old maid and that his mentor whose home I would be staying at was very handsome.”
You were able to maintain eye contact, but your nerves were given away when you began picking at the hem of your sleeves.
“Really? Zoro called me that?”
Where on Earth he pulled the confidence to tease you, no one could tell.
“Okay, I might have taken some creative liberties in that story.”
He huffed a small laugh and you lit up.
“Then,” he swallowed thickly, suddenly hesitant. Should he take your advice? Speak everything aloud with nothing on his person except hope? What if one of the situations you mentioned in being earlier is one you’re in right now with someone else? What if he’s misread the entire thing?
“You know,” you cut through his thoughts. “If you want to go on a date, all you have to do is ask.”
A time of death would have been pronounced if a medical examiner saw him in that moment. The way his body froze could have easily been mistaken for rigor mortis.
Your lips pressed together to suppress a grin. “Want to know how I know?”
You weren’t generous enough to allow the shock time to pass and part of him was grateful you chose not to let him suffer. His body relaxed as you explained,
“Mihawk, I’m the only person you speak to aside from Perona, Zoro, and Shanks. You refuse to spend any more time than you have to with them, but always drop whatever you’re doing to accommodate my requests.”
After searching your face for any trace of insincerity, he came up empty-handed.
“I was under the impression I was discreet.”
You shook your head. “A man in love never is.”
Silence was shared as the new information settled over you both. Mihawk didn’t notice when he took a step forward, chests almost touching.
“In that case,” he swallowed thickly. “Would you-“
“I would love to go on a date with you, Dracule Mihawk.”
You stepped forward and his hands instinctively found your hips. Your arms decided to station themselves on his biceps. It was at that moment he realized, this must be your favorite part of his body, so he thanked whatever deity is out there that he chose a physically demanding career.
He leaned down slightly until your lips were just barely brushing.
You rubbed his arms softly and teased, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”
Mihawk smirked. “That depends,”
“When do you need to aerate a white wine?” The resulting slap to his arm stung, but was definitely worth it.
Note: My headcanon is that Mihawk does not eat pizza with his hands and instead uses a fork and knife.
Content Warnings: ( MDI 18+) discrimination, bullying, Sexual harassment, p in v, Mature, trauma, Slow burn, a little smut, a LOT of angst ,sex,conflict, family dynamics, power struggles, disability, enemies-to-lovers trope, he falls first and he falls harder.
Each row of chairs rose higher than the last, turning the lecture hall into something almost theatrical.
The smell of polish hung heavy in the air, making you wrinkle your nose in disgust.
Your wheelchair in the designated spot at the end of the front row. The only seat with a removable desk panel and far from the stairs. It was a lonely island, separated from the other students.
"Economic Principles of Global Health," a required elective for your radiography degree.
It was supposed to give you context, your advisor said. A way to understand the "systems" you’d work within. To you, it just felt like a weekly lesson in how little the world valued accessible care.
Professor Gakuganji droned on at the podium, his pointer clicking against a slide.
"…and thus, the triage of capital inevitably follows the triage of potential outcome. Investment flows to the most able bodies."
Your pen paused.
Able bodies.
It meant bodies that worked without costly accommodations. Bodies like yours were a written item under ‘liability.’ Your thoughts were interrupted as the
door at the back of the hall creaked open.
Someone had arrived very late, the lecture was about an hour in, and class was about to end in thirty.
The sound of boots echoed down the aisle. Not rushed. Nor apologetic. As if the person actually did not give two shits whether they were late or not.
whispers moved through the room as the person moved.
You didn’t even look up, just kept your eyes on your notebook.
The footsteps didn’t stop at the back rows.They came closer, down the centre aisle, straight toward you.
The seat beside you shifted.
Close enough that your elbow almost brushed this persons’.
You smelled it before you registered who it was fully. That same sharp scent from the library.
Your grip on the pen tightened.
Of course.
The boots were already there in your line of sight, scuffed. Black cargo pants. His hands resting on his thighs, knuckles still scraped fresh.
Your pen pressed a little harder into the page, now more irritated than ever.
That asshole. Again.
Unbelievable.
He didn’t look at you. He just slouched back, one arm draped over the empty seat behind him. He stared straight ahead at the monitor, eyes flat with a look of disinterest of whatever was being explained. He hadn’t even brought a bag, or a pen. Nothing.
Like he wasn’t here to participate.
Like he was here because he felt like it.
The air grew thicker, harder to breathe. You focused on the professor’s pointer, forcing your own hand to keep moving across the page.
Mr. Gakuganji paused, glancing at the new arrival with a hint of hesitation, then cleared his throat and continued.
For ten agonizing minutes, you tried to pretend he wasn’t there. But his proximity wasn’t helpful at all.
Then, during a pause in the lecture as Gakuganji changed slides, he leaned in a little and whispered. Low, rough and meant only for you to hear.
“So you’re a medical grunt.”
You froze.
Your pen paused
“I’m a student.”
“Same thing.” A faint shift of the fabric of his leather jacket. “Figuring out how to fix broken things.”
“I diagnose them,” you corrected with a hushed voice. “There’s a difference.”
He scoffed, sounding like he was amused.
“Diagnose this, then.”
You finally turned your head.
Only to meet those red eyes that swept over your profile, down to your chair, and back up.
“Why are you here?” He asked. “They don’t give charity seats for cripples.”
The word landed wrong.
It was so blunt and so deliberately ugly that it stole your breath.
The word kids had whispered in hallways or muttered by strangers on the bus. But no one had ever said it to your face, especially with such casual cruelty. And this was the second time he’d said it to you.
For a second, you didn’t respond, probably too taken back a bit. Then you felt it, a hot sting that pricked behind your eyes and your throat throbbing.
*What is going on with you today, L/n? keep it together.*
You were not going to cry in front of this asshole.
You swallowed whatever emotions that were getting to you down, turned your head to meet his gaze again and continued to stare him down.
Then you forced your voice out.
“They give scholarships,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady, “to the student who topped the national pre-med entrance exams” You threw Gakuganji’s term back, laced with venom. “My parents…they sweat for every yen. I’m here because my brain works. The rest of me is NONE of your business.”
He held your stare and didn’t even apologize nor did he react. He just… absorbed it. Like your anger was amusing.
*Asshole* you thought
“Huh,” he scoffed, looking forward again, dismissing you. “Brains. Tch.”
Your jaw tightened.
You were still shaking inside when Mr. Gakuganji’s next words cut through the buzzing in your ears.
“As you all know from the email sent last night, the mid-term project pairs have been assigned, I have assigned the pairs myself," He announced, clearing his throat.
"I trust you've reviewed them.”
A pause.
“…for this project, you will be analyzing a real-world case study.”
He adjusted his glasses and looked down at his tablet.
“Ria Fujiyama, you have been paired with Aiko Hirai”
“Shota Nakamura, paired with Natsuki Yoshida”
“Satoru….your paired with...Akari Matsumoto”
……..
……………
……
…….,
“And lastly….”
“L/N Y/N,” Gakuganji read from his tablet, his eyes finding you. Your head lifted before you could stop it.
“You have been paired with…..
Mr Ryomen.”
The silence was heavy. Then the whispering exploded.
Your stomach dropped through the floor. No. It wasn’t possible. It was a sick joke. You didn’t think Sukuna was serious when he said you were paired together.
Then in a desperate attempt you shot Sukuna a glance to your left and sent him the sharpest look ever. Knuckles were already turning white because of how hard you were clenching.
He was already looking forward, his expression unchanged. He just stared at the professor, then slowly, the corner of his lips ticked up. *Was he smirking??*
Oh, how you felt like wiping that smirk of his face. If only you could stand….
“The project,” Gakuganji continued, raising his voice “will be a cost-benefit analysis of implementing a universal accessibility redesign for a public hospital wing. Due in 15 weeks. Fifty percent of your grade. All the details have already been sent along with the email.”
Universal accessibility. Paired with the guy who’d just called you a cripple. Twice.This had to be a joke. A very bad one at least.
Right??
“Wait!” You snapped, voice cut through the classroom.
A few heads turned.
“There’s… no way that’s correct,” you said, pointing. “Isn’t there anyone else? Like…..anyone else at all?”
A pause.
The professor blinked slowly. “The pairs are correct.”
“No, no, no,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I think there’s been a mistake. A technical issue or something.
A few students snorted under their breath.
You felt heat rise under your skin.
Next to you, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “Tch. What, you think you’re too good for it?”
The room shifted again. Watching now.
Gakuganji's eyebrows climbed higher. "The pairs were generated by the department's best assignment algorithm. The algorithm I designed. There’s no mistake."
"With all due respect, SIR, the algorithm is wrong." You gestured vaguely at the air. “The algorithm is broken. It needs to be double che-"
"L/n." Gakuganji's voice was flat. "The pairs are final."
"Final?" You laughed, making a slightly unhinged sound. "You can't just say 'final' like that's a real word. Final is for death. Final is not for being strapped to this menace for ten weeks of my life.” You lashed, gesturing at the pink haired jerk sitting beside you.
The professor sighed, rubbing his temple. “Ms L/n It’s not up for negotiation.”
From your left, a low voice interrupted. "I'm touched. Really. You're already thinking about our future together."
You whipped your head toward Sukuna so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash.
"This is not a future," you hissed. "This is a hostage situation."
"Kinky. I like it."
"I. Will. End you."
"L/N. Ryomen." Gakuganji voiced. "If you two cannot work together professionally, I will refer this matter to the academic integrity board. Is that what you want?"
You opened your mouth to say something, but the professor's cold expression made you stop. He really wasn't bluffing. And the academic integrity board was not somewhere a scholarship student wanted to end up.
You closed your mouth. Swallowed your pride.
That same pride tasted like broken glass and failure.
"No, sir," you said through clenched teeth.
The bell rang mockingly . Mr Gakuganji looked at the clock, then at you, then at the door. A wave of relief washed over his wrinkled face, so desperate that you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“…..well," he said, already gathering his notes, already stepping away from the podium, "everyone that concludes today's lecture. I look forward to your project submissions. Good day."
He was gone before you could form another word. Vanished. *Tch Coward*, you thought.
With that everyone, erupted into chatter, as they made their way out of class. You just sat frozen, staring at your notes. Anger gnawing at you.
Sukuna stood up then loomed over you for a moment, blocking the light. “My office hours are never,” he said, his tone harsh. “You want to pass? You do the work. Send me the slides. Don’t waste my time.”
And then he was gone, moving up the stairs and out the door without a glance, the crowd of people heading to the next class parting for him like water before a shark.
You were left alone in the emptying hall, the words echoed. Your brain replaying the moment: the professor's cowardice, Sukuna's smug smirk, the bell's mockery…You literally just made a fool of yourself again.
Fuck my life
Suddenly a hand touched your shoulder. You flinched.
Mei.
The acquaintance from your radiology class. She was very kind but her expression was now laced with pity.
“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you okay? Paired with him? That’s… that’s basically a death sentence for your grade. And he’s so…. Do you want me to talk to the professor for you?”
The pity was worse than Sukuna’s cruelty. It was gentle, made you feel small and broken. It kinda felt like a punch in the gut.
Like everything was just being rubbed in…
“I’m fine,” you said, shrugging her hand off gently. “It’s just a project.”
But it wasn’t. It felt like a life sentence.
The rest of the day was a blur. In your core radiology lecture, you focused on cross-sectional anatomy with desperation, trying to bury this morning’s encounter in the safe, logical world of MRIs and CT scans.
Your other shared class with him, you discovered with a sinking heart, was Advanced Statistical Modeling. Of course it was. A tool for a future CEO to measure the world. For you, it was another obstacle.You arrived early and took a seat in the back, near the door. He walked in just as the lecture began, surrounded by his usual group, a white-haired Satoru, the dark-haired Suguru, and an older, terrifyingly man with a scar running down by his lip, the one you’d heard whispers about too, Toji. They took up the entire back row, all looking very disinterested.
Sukuna’s eyes found you instantly, a quick, bored scan before he turned to say something that made Gojo laugh loudly. You felt uncomfortable. Exposed.
After your last class, the real struggle began: the bus. It was raining with a very hard drizzle that made everything wet. You waited under the shelter of the bus stop, your wheelchair’s brakes firmly engaged on the incline. The bus pulled up, doors hissing open. The driver, a different man from the usual, saw you and his shoulders slumped visibly.
He got out, grumbling about the weather, and slapped the button for the ramp. It extended with a jerky whine. You rolled forward, the small lip where the ramp met the sidewalk catching your front casters. You had to reverse and give it a sharp push to get over it, your shoulders already aching.
“Hurry up, it’s raining,” the driver said, not helping one bit as he returned to his dry seat and continued to watch.
Inside, you moved to the designated securement area for people with disabilities. The straps were stiff and cold. You hooked them to your chair, pulling them tight with practiced, straining movements. The driver watched in the mirror, impatient. When you were finally secured, he didn’t wait for you to give a signal. He just closed the doors and pulled back into traffic, the lurch making you grab hold of your wheels to steady yourself.
You looked around scanning the familiar scene of the bus when an old lady across the aisle gave you a small, sympathetic smile. You looked away, out the fogged window, feeling the familiar sense of gratitude and humiliation. You were a chore. A delay. No one likes either.
He dropped you off at your usual stop. The ramp dropped into a deep puddle at the curb. You had no choice but to roll through it, the icy water soaking through the bottoms of your jeans, chilling your legs. Your socks were now all wet and you were definitely sure you’re about to get the flu.
The bus drove away with another hiss, leaving you in the wet, dimming light.
Home was quiet.
The passageway felt so hollow and eerie, it always gave you the creeps as you unlocked your door. Inside the apartment was dark, quiet and smelled of dried paint. You put your hands onto the armrest of the wheelchair, dug your fingers in and used every last bit of strength that you had to haul yourself up from the chair to the couch.
Your body, still not used to this same old routine, protested at every inch, muscles screaming as you shifted your weight.
Finally, you collapsed onto the cheap, second-hand couch with a heavy plop. A groan escaped your lips as you stretched your now aching back and hips, the familiar throb of pain worse in the damp cold. For a moment, you just stayed there, chest heaving, arms trembling, letting your body sink into the cushions.
Phone.
A missed call.
Your mother.
You could picture her, wiping her hands on her apron in the steamy back room of the restaurant, with worry etched on her face.
You sent her a quick text: [ Long day. All good. Talk tomorrow] You couldn’t bear to hear her concerning voice right now, you had to lie about how your day really was.
You checked all your emails for the day and that’s when your eyes fell on the course syllabus for Economic Principles. On the line for ‘Project Partner,’ you wrote, with a hand that trembled slightly: Ryomen Sukuna.
A sudden, hot tear escaped, tracking through the grime and rain on your cheek. You wiped it away angrily. You hadn’t cried over the bus, or the puddle, or the pain. But this… this pairing felt like the universe toying with you.
You thought back to today’s encounter, his cold red eyes, his utter indifference.
You do the work. Send me the slides. Don’t waste my time.
The audacity.
You felt this sudden rage flare in your tummy, burning away all the self-pity.
Fine.
He wanted a cost-benefit analysis on accessibility? You’d give him one. You’d bury him in data. In real life costs, not just of ramps, but of lost jobs, of secondary illnesses from inadequate care, of human potential wasted. You’d make it so thorough, so rock-solid, that even he would have to see it.
He thought your brain was your only viable asset?
You’d show him just how sharp your asset could be.
You opened your laptop, the glow illuminating your face in the dark apartment. The sounds of rain pattering against the window.
This project, this class, this degree, it was your bridge out of the world of pitying smiles. And no arrogant, pink-haired frat boy was going to blow it up for you.
You started your research, typing with intense focus. The first email you drafted was to him. Short and Professional.
His was pressed against your back, one heavy arm around your waist. His breath moved slow against the back of your neck. In. Out. In again.
Without meaning to, you matched it.
You stirred a little.
Shanks tightened his arm at once.
“Mm,” he mumbled, not awake enough for words.
You smiled into the pillow. “I’m not leaving.”
His mouth brushed clumsily against your shoulder. Not quite a kiss. More like a sleepy attempt at one. Then another, softer, against the side of your neck.
“Good,” he breathed.
Your heart gave a strange, aching little turn.
You turned carefully in his hold. He made a disgruntled sound, but let you move, only to pull you closer the second you faced him. His red hair was loose over the pillow.
For a while, you only looked at him.
The man the world feared. The captain everyone followed. The Emperor who laughed too loudly, drank too much, and walked into chaos with a steady presence.
Here, he was warm. His face softened by the dark. His hand curled around your back.
You lifted your fingers and brushed the hair from his cheek.
Shanks leaned into your touch.
Still asleep.
The happiness of it was so small it hurt.
Not grand. Not loud. Just his breath against your wrist. His body warm under your hand.
You loved him.
It struck you so simply that you closed your eyes.
Shanks moved closer, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His lips touched yours once, barely there, a half-kiss lost between sleep and waking.
You tucked yourself against him.
His arm came around you again.
And warm, safe, and loved, you fell back asleep.
Law
The thin blanket over your legs had slipped sometime after midnight.
Law slept close.
His chest was against your back, one arm around your waist with his hand tucked against your ribs. His fingers had found themselves under the fabric of your shirt sometime in the night.
You felt his breathing first.
Slow. Even. So much calmer than he ever sounded awake.
You stayed still, listening to it.
In.
Out.
Then yours began to follow.
Your shared room was quiet. No footsteps in the corridor. No voices. Just Law warm against you in the dark.
His nose brushed the back of your neck when he shifted.
You smiled before you could stop yourself.
“Cold?” he murmured.
His voice was rough with sleep, barely there.
“A little.”
He made a low sound of disapproval. Then his arm pulled tighter, drawing you closer until your back fit against him more securely.
“Better?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His fingers moved once over your ribs in a slow, absent stroke. His breathing evened again against your skin. You thought he had fallen back asleep until his mouth pressed lightly to the back of your shoulder.
One kiss.
Then another, clumsy and tired at the edge of your collar.
Your heart softened so quickly it almost hurt.
You turned carefully in his arms.
Law frowned before his eyes opened. But when he saw you, the look faded into something quieter. Something unguarded.
“Go back to sleep,” he murmured.
You lifted a hand to his face instead. His hair had fallen across his forehead.
You brushed it back gently.
Law’s eyes slipped shut.
For once, he simply let himself be touched.
And there it was.
Happiness.
You loved him.
Not because he said enough. But because he reached for you in his sleep. Because his breathing slowed when you were near.
Law opened one eye. “You’re staring.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re not.”
“No.”
He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth.
It was not much. Just warmth. Just breath. Just him.
But when he pulled you closer, when your forehead rested beneath his chin and his hand rested on your back, it felt like everything.
thoughts on Uvogin manhandling his shorter/petite s/o? regularly, in bed, etc, whatever your thoughts are on that 😇
Oh he definitely would manhandle her. Love that thought because i am short aswell hehe. 😋 So here are some spicy 🌶️ headcanons:
- Uvogin would throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, whenever he gets the chance. You are a lightweight to him and he wanna show off how you don’t need your feet, but only his strength to carry you wherever you need to.
- Uvogin loves throwing you on the mattress, before his massive body looms over you with his heavy length throbbing against your shaking thigh. He‘ll manhandle you into every possible position, where he gets to fuck you in the right angle to hit your sweet spot. Until he got you begging for him to stop, but that just spurs him on even further to fuck you even harder.
- Uvogin is a huge fan of 69. But only when he gets to stand on his full height, wrapping his arms around your belly to turn you upside down in the air. He holds you like it’s nothing, tongue ravishing your dripping core with ferocity and a hunger no one can still. While you bob your head up and down his veiny shaft, trying so hard to not choke or come right on the spot because he‘s eating you out like he’s a fucking starved beast.
- Uvogin loves seeing you giving him a good old handy with your little small hands. He watches with amazement how you try to palm him just right, having to use both of your hands. When you decide to wrap your lips around his tip? He chokes out a rough groan along with a chuckle, on how comically your mouth is stretching around his fat length, barely fitting but enough to facefuck you like you love it. Or he does.
ace who visits islander!reader whenever he can, surprising her with gifts he stole found from the various places he’s visited. jewelry, hair accessories, flowers that he tried his best to keep alive, small kimmidolls etc, all things that he’d think you’d like.
the only issue is that whenever he brings you these stolen gifts it ends up in rejection and a soft spoken lecture on how you won’t accept his stolen gifts because of karma! his cabin on pop’s ship is full of trinkets that were all softly denied by you.
he’s is constantly questioned by his brothers on all these random items in his room but were only met with a deep sigh. ace was a pirate, why should he buy gifts and treasures with his hard taken earned berries when he’s a globally feared devil fruit user? he just doesn’t get you.
you were in your hut, bangles jingling as you moved around the candle lit room, gathering medicine for a child who waited behind you. the girls mother was sick and was sent to go get medicine from you, you with a devil fruit that could make any plant you knew of. you who provided for the islands village whether it was prayers or medicine. you who didn’t charge for anything because you thought you had everything you needed in life already.
you put the medicine into a small jar, closing the top tightly before kneeling in front of the child and handed it to her.
"two spoonfuls a day, one in the morning once at night. take good care of your mother, okay?"
"yes, miss [᪥]. thank you!"
when the child left, you sighed as you stared at the familiar hatted shadow outside of your hut.
"ace."
there were a few seconds of silence before he stepped in. shirtless per usual. he took off his bright orange hat with a small sack that made the same jingling noises as your wrists.
"hey, [᪥]."
he looked almost bashful, sun-kissed skin glowing from the candles as he relaxed in the arms you wrapped around him and pressed your lips to his cheek. he stiffened a little when your hands felt up his arms, gentle squeezes on his biceps to feel the man you haven’t seen in cycles.
"your gained a little. in a good way."
ace was still stiff under your touch, suddenly pushing the pouch into your hands.
"got these for you. didn’t steal ‘em this time either. promise."
your eyes widened a little, opening the pouch to reveal jade bangles that would go perfect with the gold ones you wore on your wrist already. you examined the very much real jade in your hands, sliding them gently past your fingers and thumb and gave them a little shake. they were beautiful.
"where’d you get these? they’re beautiful."
"got them from some trader in alabasta a while back for you. been sitting in my cabin for a while."
his words came out in mumbles, eyes fixed on a lit incense on your table. nervous hands planted on your waist as you took off one of your necklaces to put it on his neck. the gold layered with his red beads that lingered above his chest.
he was about to protest before your lips pressed into his, fingers trailing to cradle his face. gods did Ace miss you.
a/n from layla ❀: first time publishing for one piece and don’t know how to feel.. was kinda inspired by the first scene of smoke and annie from sinners. i miss aceeeeeuhhhh.
Ace in love with you, wasn’t exactly what you expected. But somehow, you grew used to it anyway.
You got used to the love letters he left when you were going to be apart for a while.
Or rather — the pile of half charred confessions that always smelled like smoke.
That’s what made them very Ace letters. He’d get so excited writing down how much he loved you that he’d accidentally set the paper on fire. And honestly, you never had the heart to complain.
You got used to him eating and talking at the same time, food stuffed in his mouth as he rambled.
“Ace! Chew with your mouth closed — talk after you swallow!”
He’d just grin, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, go quiet for a second… then shove more food into his mouth and continue just as loudly.
It became no surprise that after clearing his plate, he’d glance at yours with those hopeful eyes, silently begging you to say you were full.
And sometimes — even when you weren’t —you’d lie. You’d push the plate toward him just to see that excited, childlike joy light up his face again. Watching him eat like that warmed your heart more than any meal ever could.
You got used to the late night talks when it was cold. You’d curl up beside him, letting his hands warm your body as you spoke excitedly about your plans for the next island you’d dock at, your dream date, your little ideas and stories.
Only to glance over and realize he’d fallen asleep mid-conversation.
You were always this close to shaking him awake. But one look at that peaceful, soft smile — and the frustration melted.
His excuse?
“I just feel so comfortable with you… my eyes get heavy,” he’d say with a lazy grin.
You got used to how competitive he was. How stubborn he could get. Even over playfights.
A pillow fight? He’d swing like it was a final battle, feathers flying until the pillows became more stuffing than fabric.
Tickling? He’d keep going until you were breathless, clutching your stomach and crying from laughter while he shouted some ridiculous victory line.
You got used to how he flirted with you —constantly, shamelessly — but the second you flirted back more boldly, he’d go redder than his flames.
Ears flushed, eyes wide, trying so hard to play it cool as he muttered a flustered, “Shut up…” whenever you teased him for it.
But what you could never quite get used to?
The casual touches.
How he’d drape an arm around you while talking to someone else. How he’d absentmindedly stroke your hair while zoning out, completely unaware of how much it made your heart flutter. It was second nature to him — but for you, it was utterly distracting. Every single time.
You got used to it all. Every side of Ace. Every little quirk. Every flame, every fault, every fire sparked affection.
And most importantly — You fell in love with every single detail of him.
ace gets so lost in the heat of the moment that his narcolepsy kicks in mid-kiss.
the air in ace's cabin on the moby dick is thick and heavy, the wood of the walls still holding onto the midday sun, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating off of him. he’s sitting on the edge of his bunk, completely shirtless, and his skin feels like a literal hearth. as you straddle his lap, your hands slide over his shoulders, tracing the hard, defined lines of his deltoids and the way his muscles ripple with even the smallest movement. his body is a map of strength—the firm, washboard texture of his abs pressing against you, and the sharp dip of his hip bones that feel like they were carved out of marble.
you’re deep into it, your lips locked with his in a slow, messy rhythm that makes your head spin. his hands are firm on your waist, his thumbs grazing your skin, and for a second, the world is just the taste of him and the low, steady thrum of the ship’s engines. but then, you feel his movements start to lag. his weight becomes a little heavier against you, his breathing slowing from a heavy pant to a deep, rhythmic puff. his head tips forward, his forehead coming to rest against your collarbone, and the kissing just… stops.
"ace? baby ace?" you whisper, a little breathless, your fingers tangling in his dark, messy hair to tilt his head back.
he jolts, his eyes snapping open with a confused, dazed look before he realizes where he is. a dusty, faint blush creeps up his cheeks, settling right under those familiar freckles. he lets out a sheepish, low-throated chuckle that vibrates through his chest and into yours.
"sorry," he grins, his teeth white against his tanned skin as he rubs the back of his neck. "old habits, i guess. usually happens when i’m eating something good, but i think i just got too comfortable with you."
he doesn't let you pull away, though. his eyes darken, filled with a sudden, intense heat that has nothing to do with his devil fruit. his large, calloused hands slide down from your waist, his palms warm and rough as they firmly cup your ass, pulling you flush against him until there's no space left at all. you can feel the raw power in his frame, the solidness of his chest against yours, and the way his skin seems to hum with a feverish, addictive glow.
"now, where were we?" he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave as he leans back in, his lips catching yours in a kiss that’s much more intentional this time, searing and deep, promising to stay awake for every single second of it.
Summary: How do One piece men act before they realise they like you - and when they do ෆ˚
(Disclaimer! I DO NOT own any of the pictures above, or in this fic. Credits to the rightful owner)
Pairings: Portgas D. Ace x reader, Monkey D. Luffy x reader, Trafalgar D. Law x reader, Roronoa Zoro x reader, Shanks x reader (seperate & not in order)
ᰔᩚ
Luffy:
It's no secret that your captain has a little crush on you.
Well, everyone thinks so at least
You're not really sure because it's Luffy, he's always affectionate and an absolute sweetheart to the people close to him. So maybe everyone is just overthinking things.
But sometimes, there were moments that made you think twice.
Like how every time you guys find an island to explore, Luffy always drags you with him.
How he always ends up sitting beside you every time. Or when he would barge into you, Nami, and Robin's room because he was bored.
The crew noticed it way before you did.
At first they weren't sure if they were assuming things
Every time there's errands to do, Luffy always has to be with you. And if he isn't, he immediately start arguing with everyone and use his title as the captain until he got his way.
How every time Ussop invites him to go fishing, Luffy always asks if you can join. How whenever he catched a big fish, he'd run off to you and start showing off.
Chopper noticed how every time you were sick, luffy would always bring you 'cool things' he found on an island he explored so "you wouldn't miss out"
How luffy always runs off to you every time something cool happens with the biggest grin in his face.
"LOOK! LOOK AT THIS WEIRD BUG I FOUND"
"LOOK AT THIS BIG FISH I CAUGHT"
"LOOK AT THIS NEW TRICK USSOP TAUGHT ME"
Always yelling out to you everytime something happens.
Robin, Nami, Ussop, and Chopper noticed immediately
Sanji, Franky, and Brook noticed shortly after
Zoro also noticed, but didn't care much about it.
But everyone's suspicions were confirmed when luffy did something no one ever thought would happen.
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
Everyone was in the dining room, all laughing and enjoying your food. Of course, right next to luffy.
Luffy was busy eating his food, then suddenly, he put his food in your plate.
Everyone went silent, they couldn't believe what they just saw.
Luffy. Sharing. Food?!
"Huh?!" you turned to look at him.
He grinned "Try it, it's really good"
Luffy noticed how quiet it became, he looked over at everyone, confused why everyone looked shocked.
Nami blinked.
Usopp blinked.
Sanji's cigarette fell out of his mouth.
Robin smiled.
"DID YOU JUST SHARE YOUR FOOD?" everyone screamed.
"Yea, so?" Luffy said bluntly, like it was a normal thing for him.
Zoro choked on his sake.
Sanji fainted
"Yo ho ho, oh young lovee" Brook said
Chopper rushed over to luffy "Luffy! Are you sick? This isn't like you to share!"
Luffy took a bite of his food "I wanted y/n to try it!" He paused and turned to face you. "It's good right?" He smiled
Your heart skipped a beat
'What is going on?!' you thought to yourself.
You composed yourself and grabbed a bite "It's really good luf" you smiled
His smile widened and he started grabbing more food for you.
"Here try this!"
"Try this one too!"
Everyone just stared at you two, too shocked to say something.
"Oh dear" Robin chuckled "It seems our captain has fallen in love"
You choked on your food and Luffy turned to Robin looking confused.
"Huh? What does that mean?" he asked
Robin smiled "It's when you always want to be near a certain person and feel weird around them. You always want to spend time with them and be on their side forever"
Nami sighs "You sure that's not too hard to understand? It's Luffy were talking about"
Luffy grumbles "That's it?"
Everyone nods
Luffy blinked
Looked at you and grinned
"Then I think love y/n a lot!" He exclaimed before he went back to eating
...
...
...
And once again, the room went silent.
You could feel your face on fire and everyone's eyes on you two.
What the fuck just happened?!
"What?! You can't just say that so bluntly!" you scold him, but luffy just laughed.
"Why not?" He pouts "That's what I feel about you but I just never knew what it was"
At this point, your brain couldn't process all this information at once. You open your mouth to say something, but no words came out.
"I-uh" you stutter. Too nervous to say the words about to come out of your mouth.
"Hmm?" He responded
You took a deep breath and said "I love you too then" you smiled.
Everyone's eyes popped out of their head
"WHAT" They all screamed.
Let's just say, nobody expected dinner to turn out like this.
Zoro:
Zoro is slightly obvious about it, but just doesn't realise it.
Because for some reason, he happens to be there wherever you are. If your reading a book while sunbathing? He'll come by after a few minutes to take a nap because 'the sun is nice'
Your passing by while he's training? His eyes follow your figure immediately and never take it off you, easily getting distracted which makes him forget how much reps he's done.
You leave the room? He notices way before anybody does even though he was supposed to be asleep already.
His face turns red everytime you smile at him or tease him. Just do anything as simple as breathing and this guy would be blushing like crazy, because he finds it 'cute'
And when anyone points it out, he says the same exact thing.
"Tch, shut up"
Because Zoro still thinks that he's acting normal. Which he isn't, but he's just simply too stubborn to admit it.
Too stubborn to admit that the way his heart races when he's around you isn't normal.
Too stubborn to admit that the way he always ends up wanting to be around you isn't normal.
Too stubborn to admit that how he feels and how he acts around you isn't normal.
But how can he admit to something he doesn't understand?
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
You guys stopped over at an island to gather some supplies and decided to split up to make the job easier.
And you ended up going shopping with Zoro. Nobody honestly wanted to go with him because of his ability to always some how get lost and it takes too much time to look for him.
Not that either of you were against the idea.
Matter of fact, Zoro would much rather be with you than anyone else.
But of course, he had to get lost and now your stuck walking around looking for him. You took your eyes off him for 30 seconds and he was nowhere to be found.
As your walking around, you see a guy walking towards you. Then, he spoke.
"Hey, your not from around here right?" He stopped in front of you, hands behind his head.
"No, just visiting" you paused "Have you seen a green haired guy with swords on his torso?"
He raised his eyebrow, looking interested "Green hair? Haven't seen him around. A friend of yours? Or something more?"
'Or something more?'
Oh how you wish that was the case
"A friend" you said quickly, feeling a dust of pink creeping up to your face and your heart beating faster than usual.
"Then how about I help you look for him?" He winked "We can get to know each other in the process"
You paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. I mean, this would make the hunt for a certain moss head easier right?
"Ye-" but before you could even accept his offer, you felt a large rough hand on your shoulder.
"She won't be needing any help" a deep gruff familiar voice grumbled near your ear. You could feel his breath against your ear, which caused your whole face and ears to turn red.
Behind you was none other than Roronoa Zoro. His gaze narrowed down on the guy in front of you. He looked at him so intense, it won't be a surprise if he burned a hole through him.
The poor guy slightly trembled, taking tiny steps back. "Hey hey, I was just tryna help this beauty over here"
Zoro's eyes twitched, you could feel his grip on you slightly tightening. Veins showing on his forehead, obviously agitated at a certain person.
"She clearly doesn't need your help anymore"
"Well can't blame a guy for trying" he sighed. "She said your not her boyfriend so why do you care so much?"
That question made Zoro pause. His jaw tightened and his throat felt dry.
As annoying as he is, he has a point.
'Why does he care so much?'
For a moment, no one spoke. The only noises you could hear were vendors promoting their shop, kids running around, people chattering.
Both men just simply stared at each other, not saying anything. Zoro was the first to break the silence, "It's none of your business"
The man stared at Zoro for a moment before letting out a whistle.
"Y'know, I think someone's inlove"
You felt Zoro stiffen beside you.
"What did you just say?"
The guy laughed nervously "I'm just saying, I went and talked to her then you showed up and been glaring at me the whole time. Then you come over here acting like her personal guard dog"
A vein appeared on Zoro's forehead "Watch your mouth"
"You can't tell me you don't like her"
"I don't"
"You do"
"I don't"
"It's obvious"
'Does this guy have a death wish or what???'
You could feel Zoro's patience disappearing. So before things could get any worse, you quickly stepped between them.
"Okay, that's enough from both of you"
The guy immediately took a step backProbably because he realised he might lose his head.
"Alright, alright. I'm leaving" He turned around and winked at you "See you around then beautiful" he said before walking away.
As he walked away, he looked at Zoro one last time.
"Trust me, man. You've got it bad" Then he disappered into the crowd
For a moment, neither you or Zoro said anything.The busy marketplace carried on around you as if nothing happened.
You cleared your throat.
"So..."
Zoro immediately started walking.
"Tch. We still have supplies to get"
You blinked before hurrying after him.
"Heyy, wait up!"
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
After that whole commotion earlier, you and Zoro went back to gathering supplies. But this time, it was unusually quiet.
Normally, you wouldn't think much of it. He wasn't really the talkative type, but today he was quieter than usual.
Usually, you would talk and he would respond properly and listen to you ramble about anything. But today was different. Every time you talk, he'd only answer with a grunt, or a short response before it becomes silent again.
Meanwhile, what the guy said to him kept replaying in his head.
"I think someone's in love"
That's probably the most stupidest thing anyone has ever said to him.
But he couldn't stop thinking about it. Could it be why he always end up near you?
Why he get this weird feeling around you?
Why he get mad when another man tried to get too close to you?
Suddenly, you stop at a stall and picked up something. In your hand was a small cat trinket, a smile spread across your face as you excitedly showed it to Zoro.
"Aw look, it's a cat" you look up to him and smiled brighter than before.
Zoro's breath hitched, and for a moment he just stared at you.
'Why did he get even more nervous when he saw your smile?'
His eyes widened, it all made sense now. The way he would always end up wanting to be near you. The way his heart beats when you smile at him.The way he always notices you without even trying.
And suddenly, maybe the annoying guy from earlier was right.
Tch, you've gotta be kidding me'
You place the trinket down, and notice him just staring at you. His eyes wide open, his breathing uneven, his face all red and flustered.
"... Why are you looking at me like that?"
Your voice snapped him out of it. He looked away fast, while covering his face with one of his hands.
Zoro coughs "I'm not"
"You are"
"I'm not"
A grin slowly spreads across your face.
"Why is your face so red? You look a little flustered"
"It isn't"
"It is"
You stared at him for a little bit before laughing.
"That's cute"
Zoro's head immediately snapped to look at you. His face was redder than it was before
"Eh?!" You laughed even more and kept on walking, completely unaware of the overwhelming situation you put Zoro into.
"Tch, woman wait up!" He snapped back into reality and immediately chased after you.
Ace:
Ace is painfully obvious about it, just not to himself.
Because apparently to his logic, it's normal to spend almost every minute with you. At least his logic says so.
If your sitting alone in the deck, Ace somehow always ends up sitting beside you.
If your helping around in the ship, Ace always finds a reason to help out to.
If your somewhere alone together, he'll stay far longer than he planned.
And when anyone pointed it out
"It's not a big deal"
Because he believes it isn't that big of a deal. So what if he always spends him time around you? You both live in the same ship, so isn't it normal to be around each other often?
But he doesn't realise how he laughs harder than usual when your around.
He doesn't realise that when anything exciting happens, your the first person he wants to tell about it.
And he definitely doesn't realise that he spends more time looking at you than anything else.
But how is he supposed to realise that this feeling is he feels is something else when he's never experienced anything like it before.
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
Everyone in the ship noticed it for a long time, except you or Ace.
Because even with everyone's little comments, you genuinely believe that's just the way he is. Always playful. Always flirty. And really clingy.
'That's just the way he is, right?'
At first, the crew thought they were imagining things. Then they started paying attention.
Marco notices how Ace always sat beside you during his meals. Giving you bits of his food to try because he thought it tastes really good.
Izo noticed how if you both were missing, it's always most likely you both are alone together somewhere.
Thatch noticed how he would get all flustered when you smile, or make physical contact with him.
And Whitebeard noticed everything.
Every time Pops asked about it, Ace always had an excuse.
"She's funny"
"I like talking to her"
"Whats the big deal?"
Eventually, everyone just started making bets on how long it will take until Ace realises his feelings for you is 'more than friends'
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
Everyone's gathered around one of the tables, eating and talking after a long day. And among those people was Ace telling a story, about you.
Again.
"...And then she tripped over a bucket and somehow blamed me for it"
Everyone laughed, including Ace as he takes another bite of his food.
Then Marco spoke, "You know... You talk about her a lot"
Ace shrugged
"So?..."
Thatch repeated "So?"
"So?" Ace said again
Everyone exchanged looks, then Marco sighed.
"Ace"
"What?"
"Your in love with her"
Ace laughed
"What? Me?" He snickered. Then he looked around and saw that nobody was laughing.
Marco looked completely serious
Thatch looked completely serious
Izo looked completely serious
Pops is just silently grinning
Ace slowly stopped laughing,"... Wait" he paused "You guys are serious?"
Marco nodded, "Very"
Ace immediately shook his head, "No way, seriously?"
Thatch leaned forward. "Seriously"
Everyone shared another look, before they started interrogating him.
"You always sit next to her every meal"
"So?"
"You share food with her"
"And?"
"You spend all day with her"
"We live in the same ship?"
"You started blushing like crazy when he pulled you in a side hug"
A slight tint of pink spreads across his face.
"I did not"
"You did"
"That doesn't prove anything"
Everyone sighed
"Fine" Marco replied. "Where is she right now?"
Without thinking, his eyes dart across the room trying to look for you. He looked at every corner, the door, the stairs, the deck. He looked everywhere but you were no where to be seen.
"She's taking forever, I'll look for her" But before he could stand up, a hand grabs his wrists and stops him.
"See? You didn't even think about it" Marco smirked
"Huh?"
"See? You always do that. The second she's not around, you start looking for her. You always find some excuse to be near her."
The room went completely silent. Ace froze as his eyes slowly widen when the realisation hits him.
Everyone immediately started laughing, exchanging money.
"Pay up"
"I told you it would happen by the end of this month"
"I said before the next island"
All this commotion going on, and Ace was just silent. Because for the first time, he's finally realising that maybe there's more to it. More to the feelings he gets around you.
The way he always wants to talk to you.
The way he always wants to be around you.
The way being around you just felt right.
And suddenly, maybe they weren't wrong. Maybe he is in love
Ace slowly dragged a hand down his face.
"Your joking right?"
And that made the laugher somehow louder than it already was before.
"Nope" Thatch replied.
Pops let out a laugh, "Took you long enough
Shanks:
Nobody really noticed when it started. Not because Shanks was trying to hide it, but he just simply didn't realise what he was doing.
Somehow he would always end up wherever you are every time. You two would just always end up... alone together.
Like how he was only supposed to tell you something little for five minutes turning into thirty minutes.
How every time he makes you laugh with his corny jokes he suddenly gets this weird feeling.
Times like that just ended up getting longer and longer just because neither of you want to stop the conversation.
Shanks never thought much about it. It was simple really. He just found it easy and comfortable to talk to you.
It just slipped its way into his routine without him realising.
And when one of the crew points it out he'd just laugh it off.
Because in his mind, he didn't think anything was going on.
You were just you, fun to talk to that's why he keeps going to you.
At least that's what he told himself.
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
The realisation happened in the most random way possible.
The crew stopped by an island to get some supplies, and of course you eneded up spending the whole day with your captain.
Not that you both planned it, it just naturally happened like always.
You both walked around the market, stopping by random stalls and talking about anything.
As you both were walking around, you spotted a stall filled with fruits.
"Shanks look" you tugged on his shirt and pointed at the stall "Those apples look juicy, can we check it out?"
He looked over and chuckled, "Of course.. anything for you"
You roll your eyes at his usual playfulness before walking over to the stall.
An elderly woman running the stall smiles at you two. "Hello, would you like to buy some apples?"
You smile back at her, "Yes please, can we get a kilo of apples?"
Shanks grabbed some money from his pocket before handing it to her.
"Thank you young man, just pick one of those bags"
You look around the table of bagged apples, looking for the best looking ones. Then, you spotted one in the middle of the bunch. But before you could get them, a hand grabs them before you can.
"They're heavy, I'll carry them for you"
Shanks grabs the bag and smiles at you. "It's one kilo, it's not that heavy. You're already holding something, and you've only got one arm. Let me do it" you argue.
He sticks his tongue out "No, let me carry it"
You open your mouth to argue with him some more before you heard the elderly woman giggle a bit.
"Oh what a lovely couple"
You both immediately froze.
"Oh no we're not together"
Beside you, Shanks laughed.
"Not even close"
The woman chuckled before returning to packaging the apples.
Neither of you thought much of it before continuing shopping.
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
The day went on like usual, you both walked around did your thing and talked. You pointed out things you like or need for the ship, and he ends up carrying most of them even with how much you argue.
Nothing unusual
Nothing different
But still, his mind went back to what that old lady said.
'Oh what a lovely couple'
Thats stupid, you were just friends
Really good friends. That was all to it
So why is he still bothered about it?
Why can't he stop thinking about it?
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
By the time the sun set, you both were back at the ship. Everyone was scattered around the ship's deck, conversations overlapping, crates being moved, people laughing and chatting.
You went and immediately started getting pulled into conversations. Laughing and helping around the ship.
Shanks was leaning on a railing near you, just watching for a moment.
Just... thinking
And in that moment, he noticed something he didn't think much of before.
How his attention always softened and drifted back to you. How he always changes his schedules around just to be with you.
How it felt natural and comfortable around you. And that comment the woman made slowly started to make sense now.
Why people always assume something going on between you two just simply because he acts like it.
Because there is something going on
Well for him at least...
Shanks exhaled through his nose, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as a slow smile formed on his face.
"... That's a problem" he muttered a little softly.
Across the deck, Benn glanced over to him. "Your doing it again"
Shanks continued to look at you.
"What am I doing?"
"The staring"
That earned a quiet laugh from him, low and brief, like he already knew the answer.
He didn’t deny it.
Didn’t ignore it either.
Just let it sit there
"…Yeah" Shanks admitted under his breath.
Then, almost like it caught him off guard even as he said it
He gave a small sigh.
"Damn… I think I’m in love with her."
Law:
Law isn't that obvious about it.
Not because he's good at hiding it, but it's just because nobody thought their captain was capable of falling in love.
It's just simply because he's naturally quiet, distant and cold. The type of person who would rather lock himself up in his room than spend and get to know people.
So even when someone had a slight suspicion, they would usually brush it off.
Because isn't it normal for the captain to remember every little thing about a certain crewmate more than others?
Or why he always know or want to know where you are.
Or how he notices you more than anyone else.
Or how he would always stay by your side and barely leave unless important when your sick?
It's because he's the captain and the doctor, paying close attention to his crew is simply his job.
That's what he thinks at least.
Just a responsibility
Just you.
But Law can't stop wondering why he pays more attention to you more than the others.
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
You went out for a quick trip in town to get some supplies you forgot to buy. It was just supposed to be quick and simple, but of course luck was just simply not on your side today.
Because somehow, this island had to be under watch by an vice admiral without you or the crew knowing.
Vice admiral Gou is a new marine officer known for being ruthless and merciless. Gou wasn't really famous like the other admirals, but he still earned a reputation for not letting his targets escape.
And of course, you just had to cross paths with him.
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
Back on the submarine, Law was busy as usual in his office.
You were supposed to only be gone for a little while. But that little while turned into an hour, then two.
He let out a long exhausted sigh, you should have been back by now.
Maybe you got distracted
Maybe you got lost
Maybe-
But before he could think of the worst, someone knocked on the door.
"Captain" Bepo said before opening the door. "I'm worried, it's been a while and she still hasn't come back"
Law stood up and grabbed his sword next to him. "I'm going out, watch the ship for me" he said before walking towards the door.
Bepo stepped aside, making a way out for his captain.
"I hope she's okay..."
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
The moment he reached town, he could clearly tell something was wrong.
People were running around the streets screaming, a few buildings damaged and the ground was cracked in multiple places.
His heart sank as he immediately thought of you.
Then, he overheard people talking
"A pirate fought that new vice admiral Gou"
"She never stood a chance against him"
He froze, trying to process what he just heard
Then he ran, as quickly as he can.
"Damn it, what did you get yourself into" he cursed to himself.
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
After running around the streets, he was starting to lose hope on finding you.
But then there you were, soaked in blood.
You were sitting against a broken wall with chunks of rubble around you. Your clothes were torn, blood staining almost you whole body and the ground under you.
For one second, Law's heart stopped. His mind jumping to the worst possible things.
You weren't moving, you were too still. His chest tightened so bad it hurt.
'What the hell happened here?!'
He immediately ran towards you, heart beating faster than ever. His hands shakly grabbed both your shoulders. The sight of you like this made his heart clench, he couldn't simply stop the tears threatening to come out of his eyes.
He was scared, a feeling he hasn't felt this intense in years.
You felt something wet drop on your face. You struggled to keep your eyes open, only managing to open them barely.
"... Captain?..."
It was a surprise you managed to find the strength to say that. It was a relief that you were still conscious.
"What were you thinking?!" his voice came out harsher than expected. But even while he's scolding you, he's checking your injuries.
Already trying to stop the bleeding
Already making sure your pulse is still there.
Because no matter how angry he was at your stupidity, he was still worried sick about you.
He carefully lifted you into his arms, making sure not to make sudden movements.
Please
Just stay alive
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
Back at the submarine, he immediately took care of you and did everything he can to make sure you'll be okay.
He spent long hours, trying to patch you up while the crew waited outside the room. They've never seen Law like this before.
Usually he was calm and collected, but right now he seemed scared and panicked.
And finally after a long time, he finished treating you.
But even though you survived, you still weren't awake.
A day passed, then another
During that time you were in a coma, Law spent all his time in your room.
Sometimes he'll sit beside your bed while reading one of his medical books.
Sometimes he'll try to work, but most of the time he'd just simply watch the steady rise and fall of your chest. Waiting for you to wake up
Making sure you were still breathing. The crew immediately noticed Law would never leave your room.
Because every time they came to visit you, Law was there.
Like he's afraid that if he left, something would happen to you.
◠◡◠◡◠◡◠
A few days later when your eyes finally opened, Law was right there sitting next to your bed. Like he always had for the past week waiting for you to wake up.
For a moment neither of you spoke, just savouring each other's company.
Then he let out a breath that sounded almost shaky.
"Your an idiot"
Your throat felt dry as you try to form words in your mouth.
"Nice to see you too" you tried to smile, but you felt too weak to do so.
"You nearly died"
The words came out sharper than he thought.
You notice the dark circles under his eyes, how his shoulders slowly start to loosen up. He looked exhausted, like he hasn't slept properly in a while.
Seeing you finally awake made him feel a sense of relief. He didn't have time worry about something happening to you during your slumber.
You stare at him for a moment.
"Have you slept? You looked exhausted"
Law looked away "That's not important"
But it was, because it got him thinking why was he acting like this all of the sudden?
He never acted this panicked when one of the crew almost died once.
But with you it was different. How many hours he spent locked in your room the whole time you were in a coma.
The constant need to check on you, to make sure you were still breathing.
The fear he felt when he thought about losing you.
And that's when the gears in his head fit into place.
The reason why seeing you covered in blood made his heart drop.
The reason why the thought of losing you scared him more than anything else.
The reason why he couldn't leave your side no matter how many times he told himself to get some rest.
Law lowered his gaze, his shoulder resting against the arm rest of his chair.
"...Seriously?"
The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it.
Because after everything, it all finally made sense to him.
It wasn't just because he was scared of losing a crew member.
He didn't just notice you more because you were a crewmate
not that you’re complaining — how could you? especially since something has changed in recent months. something has become sticky, mushy, needy.
feelings. there are new feelings, but you both ignore the aforementioned sticky, mushy, needy feelings because you’re best friends, and best friends don’t have sticky, mushy, needy feelings for one another.
portgas d. ace is always hanging off you. his arm, freckled and strong, is always slung around your shoulders. he leans and slouches, pressing the full length of his body against your side whenever he can. he’s always there, in your orbit, tangling himself up in your space.
the crew knows that you, a vice-lieutenant shipwright, and the division commander are two peas in a pod; inseparable, indivisible, and integral. where his voice carries, your laughter is soon to follow. ace burns bright, like a star streaking across the sky, and you’re the moon he dances for. you call his name from high up on the mast, and he always calls yours back.
no one pities the fool portgas d. ace makes himself for the sake of your smile. no one pretends there isn’t something else there, either. marco thinks it’s gonna kill him — ace, with his longing looks, and you with your lingering smiles. always when the other isn’t looking, but for fuck’s sake, marco is looking. marco sees it. marco can’t unsee it.
feelings! sticky, mushy, needy feelings!
portgas d. ace, whose threshold for appropriate touching is quickly diminishing despite the whole best friend title. his newest, baddest habit is a sturdy kiss to your temple in passing — always paired with a murmured hey you. he’s recently started to tangle his fingers in yours during quiet moments up on deck. always during the setting sun, always when you’re off shift, and he’s avoiding whatever new responsibility pops throws him.
portgas d. ace, who starts sleeping in your bed — he blames the barracks. they’re too crowded. marco, his bunkmate, snores. you’re lucky, he says, you’ve got a tiny little cabin, with a tiny little bed, and a tiny little water room. a perk of being one of the few female crewmembers. the perk is stolen by ace, who starfishes out and runs hot. you start sleeping with less and less clothing, and ace chases the feeling of your skin against his in his sleep.
there’s a line. always. you’re best friends. best friends who touch and roughhouse and laugh. best friends who fall asleep in one another’s arms, best friends who knock foreheads together when they hug, best friends who daydream about kissing one another—
portgas d. ace is your best friend. best friends don’t kiss.
Got anything for Mihawk? And maybe a hand necklace thrown in there? Love your stuff as always, Birbs 💜
DRACULE MIHAWK loves you.
You are a beautiful mess below him in the sheets of your shared bed. His pretty little wife, ruined and writhing in the haze of a long overdue reunion. Your legs, locked around his waist, tremble, and he bows his head to knock his forehead against your own. The thin lace of your chemise clings to the swell of your chest; you pant, you huff, and you tug him in for a kiss that lingers.
“Never leave — ah — again,” you barter as he lines himself up with your aching sex, “You… You were gone for far too long — our children were just… entirely unruly.”
Mihawk’s lips, in the dark, twitch. A rare crack of humor twists his lips into a wry smirk.
Your children? Mihawk scoffs. Zoro. Perona.
“I will let the World Government know,” he murmurs against your cheek as he drags his cock through your folds, rewarding you with a languid thrust as he continues, “That my darling wife forbids it.”
Your jaw falls slack as you let out a sound tied between a gasp and a laugh; the feeling of him buried deep is always enough to feel overwhelming, and after nearly three weeks without him, it’s intense. Nothing compares — certainly not your fingers, or half-baked daydreams about his voice.
He bends over you, hips drawing in and out, and his hands cradle your face. He has the hands of a swordsman. Broad palms, calloused and rough — a far cry from the way he touches you, even when one of those hands that you treasure so dearly ventures lower.
He holds your throat gently, thumb tracing your jaw, as he fucks you — steady, solid, consistent. Much like your marriage, much like his love. Mihawk knows your body as well as the blade. He knows that when he thumbs your pulse and applies just enough pressure to your neck, you’ll tighten like a vice and sigh his name.
You trust him. You love him.
“My — beautiful — little wife,” he pants between snaps of his hips, his beard scraping your cheek as your breath hitches and he holds your throat just enough to make your head swim; he releases, and the rush makes you boneless. You almost giggle, but the coil of pleasure in your belly winds you.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises, kissing you, fucking you, choking you, “I love you.”
Maybe three weeks of mothering Zoro and Perona — by your lonesome — is worth it if this is the treatment you get upon his return. Maybe.
