I Really Like Your Work!! 🤩😍

Imagine Gear5!Luffy And normal luffy fighting over reader.......

wait! this is so smart! i like ur idea! dahaha

Double Trouble

When a freak accident splits Luffy into two, chaotic Gear 5 Luffy and sweet Normal Luffy — both versions hilariously compete for your heart, dragging the entire crew into the madness until everything returns to normal… mostly.

LUFFY X GN!READER | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, love triangle(both are luffy lol)

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

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It all started with a bang — literally.

One moment, you were helping Nami reorganize the treasure room. Next, the whole Thousand Sunny lurched with a loud BOOM, rattling the floorboards and sending gold coins scattering like fireworks.

"What now?" Nami groaned, hands on her hips.

You rushed topside with the others, weapons drawn or fists clenched — expecting an attack.

Instead, you got... two Luffys.

One perfectly normal, grinning Luffy. And one... not so normal.

The second Luffy floated lazily above the deck, hair glowing brilliant white, pupils swirling hypnotically, laughter bubbling from his lips like music.

"Y/N!!" both Luffys shouted at once when they saw you.

You took an instinctive step back.

"Nope," Zoro said immediately, reaching for his swords.

"Is it a mirror fruit?!" Usopp yelped.

"Did the Captain eat himself?!" Chopper wailed, clinging to Sanji's leg.

Robin tilted her head, studying the scene with polite interest. "Fascinating..."

Franky just laughed, "SUUUUPER confusing!"

"Focus!!" Jinbei barked, trying to corral the chaos.

But it was already too late. Both Luffys made a beeline for you, tripping over each other and crashing into your legs like toddlers desperate for attention.

Nami pressed two fingers to her temple. "I need a raise," she muttered.

You quickly learned that having two Luffys was both better and worse than you could imagine.

Better, because they were extra affectionate — offering you food, carrying your things, cheering whenever you smiled.

Worse, because they were in full competition mode.

Gear5!Luffy (as Chopper breathlessly called him) kept showing off — stretching his limbs into ridiculous cartoonish shapes, bouncing around like a rubber band on crack, pulling faces until you doubled over laughing.

"Look, Y/N!" he crowed one afternoon, turning his whole head into a massive heart, complete with a squeaky heartbeat sound.

Normal Luffy was no slouch either. He stuck to his strengths — stubbornness and sincerity.

"I don't need crazy powers," he told you solemnly, handing you a slightly squashed rice ball he'd made himself. "I'm already the best for Y/N!"

You bit into the rice ball, smiling despite yourself.

Meanwhile, the crew took sides — shamelessly.

"I bet the crazy one wins!" Franky announced loudly.

"No way," Sanji scoffed. "Y/N deserves normalcy."

"Technically," Robin mused, "both versions are Luffy."

"Yeah, but one’s glowing," Usopp said. "Glowing automatically makes you cooler."

Zoro snorted. "Idiots."

Brook just laughed. "Yohoho! Twice the Captain, twice the chaos!"

You wanted to protest — this isn’t a contest! — but then you’d look up and catch two sets of hopeful, sparkling eyes gazing at you, and the words would die on your tongue.

At first, it was cute.

They followed you everywhere — two shadows glued to your heels. They fought over who got to sit next to you at dinner, who got to carry your stuff during island stops, who could make you laugh harder.

Gear5!Luffy once turned the entire galley into a giant bouncy castle trying to impress you. Sanji screamed for three hours cleaning it up.

Normal Luffy responded by dragging you up the mast one night, pointing proudly at the sea of stars and whispering, "I wanted you to see somethin' only I can reach."

You sat there, high above the world, heart hammering against your ribs, wondering how you were supposed to choose between them.

But the tipping point came one evening.

The crew was gathered on deck — a rare, peaceful moment under a pink-streaked sky. Dinner plates were scattered everywhere, Brook strumming a soft tune on his violin.

You leaned against the railing, smiling at the sight.

Then — disaster.

Gear5!Luffy and Normal Luffy both lunged at you at once, trying to hand you a flower they'd picked from a nearby island.

Their arms tangled. They tripped. And with a yelp, they toppled overboard — dragging you with them.

The splash was enormous.

You resurfaced, spluttering and coughing, the two Luffys flailing beside you.

"Y/N!! Are you okay?!" they shrieked in perfect unison.

From the deck, Sanji was screaming bloody murder.

"YOU IDIOTS!! YOU COULD'VE DROWNED THEM!!"

Chopper was already tossing a lifesaver. Usopp was sobbing dramatically. Zoro just sighed, clearly contemplating letting you all drown to solve the problem.

Somehow, you all clambered back aboard, dripping wet and exhausted.

You sat there, shivering slightly, as the two Luffys crowded you again, guilt written all over their faces.

"I’m sorry," Normal Luffy whispered.

"Me too," Gear5!Luffy mumbled, his glow dimming.

You sighed heavily, wringing out your clothes. "You guys can’t keep fighting over me. You’re the same person, you know?"

They blinked at you.

"You both care about me. I care about you too. But... not if you hurt each other."

The deck fell silent.

Then, very slowly, the two Luffys turned — and smacked their foreheads together in a show of stubborn apology.

Thump.

You couldn't help it — you burst out laughing.

The tension shattered instantly. The crew joined in, cheering and clapping, Brook playing a jaunty tune.

"Looks like the Captain(s) learned their lesson," Robin said, smiling.

"Finally," Jinbei rumbled, folding his arms.

"Can we have just one Luffy now?" Nami pleaded.

You grinned, ruffling both Luffys' wet hair. "I'll take both for now."

They beamed at you — two idiots, one heart.

That night, you fell asleep curled between them on the deck, watching the stars wheel overhead.

For the first time in days, everything felt peaceful again.

You woke to soft snoring against your shoulder.

Blinking sleepily, you sat up — and found just one Luffy curled against you, straw hat sliding down to cover his eyes.

His hair was black again.

No swirling pupils. No crazy glow.

Just your Luffy.

You stared at him for a long moment, heart pounding in your chest.

The rest of the crew was stirring around the deck, yawning and stretching.

"Looks like whatever split him wore off overnight," Chopper said, checking Luffy’s vitals. "His heartbeat’s normal again."

"Amen," Sanji muttered, dragging a broom across the ruined galley.

Zoro shot you a sidelong look. "Guess you don’t have to choose anymore, huh?"

You smiled softly, brushing Luffy’s hair back from his forehead.

"No," you murmured, "I already chose."

Because whether he was wild or serious, glowing or not — he was still Luffy.

Yours.

Always.

And even if he didn’t remember everything that happened while split... The way he instinctively curled closer to you in his sleep said enough.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Idiot," you whispered fondly. "I love you too."

The sun rose over the horizon, golden and bright, as the Thousand Sunny sailed on, carrying you, your crew, and the boy who had somehow, impossibly, stolen your heart twice over.

I love shanks so much😭😭

Are you able to write a story where reader is a captain of another crew? Their crew isn’t super famous but aren’t weak either. Their crew is staying at some island and a tavern there when the Red-Haired pirates show up and think that they might try to fight, but reader dgaf and decides to flirt with shanks and stuff. Don’t know if your readers are Gn or female, but could the reader be described as “as beautiful as the ocean” please? I thought that would be cute!

Thank you!

🌊

thats interesting! its not much but hope u like this~~

Trouble Walks In, and So Do You

shanks x reader | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, ocs, flirting, chaotic crews

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

word count: 1.2k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The tavern on Bellmouth Island had never known peace.

It was tucked into the port side of the island like a cozy scar—weathered, stubborn, and full of bad decisions marinated in rum. But even Bellmouth’s most seasoned barkeep hadn’t seen anything quite like The Siren’s Fang crew.

“Hey, Cap! Tall guy passed out again!” barked Kiji, the squad’s medic, gesturing to a pile of limbs slumped over a barstool.

“Is he breathing this time?” you asked lazily, twirling a glass of rum in your hand. You sat at the tavern’s center table, leg slung over the arm of your chair, adorned in sleek leather and gold-trimmed cloth, eyes half-lidded with amusement.

“Barely,” muttered Azel, your cook-slash-unofficial-grim-reaper, poking the unconscious man with a ladle. “He mistook my hot sauce for syrup. Natural selection.”

“His fault,” you sighed.

You were Captain [Y/N], the woman many whispered about as beautiful as the ocean—mysterious, wild, and just as likely to drown you as smile at you. The Siren’s Fang wasn’t a household name like the Straw Hats or the Emperors, but in the Grand Line’s undercurrent, your reputation had teeth. Rumors swirled of your crew taking down a fleet from Big Mom’s remnants and sinking a marine battleship like it was a toy boat in a bathtub.

Still, fame didn’t interest you. Fun did.

And Bellmouth was fun—cheap booze, rowdy locals, and just enough lawlessness to feel like home.

That was until the door slammed open.

Wind howled through the tavern. Bottles rattled. Even the drunks perked up.

The Red-Haired Pirates had arrived.

You didn’t need to look. You felt it. That magnetic, crackling air of too-powerful people walking into a space too small to contain them.

Shanks led the way, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other resting on his hip as he scanned the tavern with lazy mirth. His crew spilled in behind him—Benn Beckman, Lucky Roux, Yasopp, the works.

Ten seconds passed. Then—

“Welp. Guess we’re fighting,” muttered Neri, your tactician, flipping her dagger.

“Can’t we go one week without a legendary crew showing up?” grumbled Hyun, your shipwright, who’d just managed to tape a window back together.

“Don't break my chairs,” called the barkeep, already ducking behind the bar.

You, meanwhile, took a sip of rum.

And then, slowly, gracefully, rose to your feet.

"Are we fighting?" asked Benn, eyes narrowing slightly.

Shanks tilted his head in your direction, gaze locking onto yours.

You didn’t draw your sword.

You smiled.

“No,” you said, voice like velvet. “But I do have something else in mind.”

The room collectively blinked.

You strolled toward them with the ease of a queen and the chaos of a siren in full swing. “You must be Red-Haired Shanks,” you purred, eyes scanning him with undisguised appreciation. “You're taller than I expected. That’s... hot.”

A pause.

Then—someone from your crew let out a wheeze of disbelief. Probably Toma. He’d bet two crates of rum you’d deck Shanks on sight.

Shanks arched a brow, lips twitching. “Not the usual greeting I get from a rival pirate captain.”

“I’m not your rival,” you said, stopping only a breath away from him. You craned your head up, voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Unless you want me to be. Enemies to lovers? That your thing?”

Lucky Roux choked on his drink.

Shanks actually laughed, the rich, boisterous sound of someone genuinely caught off guard.

“Captain,” Benn said dryly, “I think we’re being hit on.”

“DAHAHA I know, right?” Shanks grinned. “This is way more fun than usual.”

Your crew was now in a full-on state of stunned chaos.

“I—she just flirted with a Yonko. Casually. Like she was ordering a drink,” Kiji mumbled.

“She’s going to get us killed,” muttered Neri.

“No,” corrected Hyun, “she’s going to get laid.”

“Pfft—HA!”

Meanwhile, Shanks tilted his head. “So what’s your name, Ocean Eyes?”

You gave him your full title, adding, “Captain of The Siren’s Fang. And yes, I live up to the name.”

“Mm.” He leaned in just slightly. “Should I be worried you’re trying to lure me onto the rocks?”

“I’m trying to lure you onto something, that’s for sure.”

Yasopp nearly fell off his stool.

Benn facepalmed. Lucky Roux laughed so hard he snorted beer through his nose.

“Join us for a drink?” you offered innocently. “Or are you too scared I’ll make you fall in love with me?”

Shanks held your gaze for one beat. Two. Then smiled.

“I’ve done dumber things.”

And just like that, the Red-Haired Pirates sat down with the Siren’s Fang.

Tension left the room like steam off hot rum. Chairs screeched. Drinks clinked. Somewhere, your sniper was trying to discreetly message your ship’s chronicler: CAPTAIN IS FLIRTING WITH SHANKS, SEND HELP.

“...And then the marine tries to arrest me, right? While I’m naked. In the bath!” Shanks crowed, halfway through a bottle of rum, hair falling into his eyes.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, clutching your side. “Please tell me you fought him like that.”

“I slipped! Broke his nose falling out of the tub!”

You and your crew howled.

A few tables down, Benn and Neri were having a quiet intellectual standoff that involved a lot of maps and dry sarcasm. Yasopp and Hyun were arguing over gun specs. Toma was getting arm-wrestled into oblivion by Lucky Roux. It was, in short, a tavern apocalypse.

“You’re fun,” Shanks murmured, voice low, only for you.

You tilted your head. “You expected me to be scary.”

“I expected you to swing first and ask questions never.”

“Ah. That’s just on Wednesdays.”

He chuckled. “You’re dangerous.”

“You like that,” you teased.

“I do,” he admitted. “But be honest. Is this all just to distract me while your crew steals our booze?”

You sipped your drink with a wink. “What do you think?”

From across the room, a yell: “WE’VE TAKEN THE BEER STORAGE!”

“DAMN IT, KOKO!”

Shanks stared.

You said nothing.

He grinned. “Marry me?”

“Buy me a boat first.”

“You already have a ship.”

“Yeah, but I want a red one.”

As the night wore on, chaos bloomed into something almost tender. The two crews, pirates feared across the seas, were now doing karaoke with a broken lute and a guy named Phil.

You leaned against the tavern doorway, watching the madness. The moonlight brushed your skin like seafoam, your hair tousled by the salt-laced wind.

Shanks joined you silently.

“You’re really not what I expected,” he said.

“Disappointed?”

He shook his head. “Enchanted.”

You turned your head to him, eyes soft now. “You’re pretty smooth for a pirate.”

“I’m usually drunker.”

You laughed, then reached up, brushing a lock of hair from his face. “You know, Red, if I weren’t a captain…”

“Yeah?”

“I’d ask you to run away with me.”

He caught your wrist gently, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“If I weren’t a Yonko,” he murmured, “I’d say yes.”

For a moment, it felt like the sea held its breath.

Then someone inside yelled, “THE CAPTAIN AND SHANKS ARE MAKING EYES AT EACH OTHER AGAIN!”

“TAKE PICTURES!”

“START THE WEDDING SONG!”

You and Shanks groaned in unison.

“Back to the madness?” he offered.

“Only if you dance with me.”

“Deal.”

And so the two of you dove back into the tavern storm, laughing, flirting, half-dancing, half-sparring with words, like the sea and sky in a constant, chaotic waltz.

No declarations. No promises.

Just two captains in the eye of a storm they both enjoyed far too much.

Got married by accident… Thanks, Vegapunk?

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

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

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

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

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

You were already over it.

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

"CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR NUPTIAL INTEREST!" it blared.

You winced. “Nope. Not interested.”

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

“Don’t press that.”

He pressed it.

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

You blinked. “…What.”

Luffy blinked. “Cool.”

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

“LUFFY—”

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

Chopper: “You guys WHAT!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zoro made gagging noises every time you entered a room.

Even Vegapunk Stella got involved.

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

You were ready to drown in holographic seagull juice.

Luffy didn’t help.

He insisted on calling you "my spouse."

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

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

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

He laughed and asked for more.

He started sharing his food.

You shared back.

He offered you half his meat skewer.

You offered him half your fruit cube.

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

...You were doomed.

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

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

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna be married for real someday?”

You paused.

“With… you?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

He took that as a yes.

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

You pretended to be annoyed.

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

And you let him hold you.

Requests are back!

hi guys! i just wanted to let you all know that i've decided to open up my requests again! that being said, things might be a little slower than usual because i’ve got some upcoming exams to prepare for as i stated here. so, i’ll be balancing that with working on requests as much as I can.

i’m excited to get back to creating for you! I’ll do my best to get to everything, just bear with me during this busy time. I can’t wait to see what y'all have in mind! pls know that ideas/suggestions are open too! and be specific with your requests pls! and also i dont plan on writing too much smut like some s3x scenes. i hope u all understand! thank u!!

Hello, thank you so much for writing this story about Marco. I loved it. I've never read a good ending to the war. One of the best. You're a goddess.

hii~ thank uu sm! i really appreciate it!! im worried that its still missing some things but either way im glad u enjoyed it!

When Love Grows Quiet

Four different loves — each unraveling in its own way, where silence cuts deeper than swords and love isn't always enough to stay.

shanks x reader | zoro x reader | law x reader | mihawk x reader | ONE SHOT tags: angst, sfw, heartbreak, emotional neglect, falling out of love, hurt/no comfort, isolation, miscommunication a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ff a bit cringe, akward, and confusing word count: 2.5k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

SHANKS

The bar was loud, filled with the buzz of half-drunken laughter, tankards slamming against tables, and music that you once loved but now loathed. You sat in the farthest corner, away from the warmth of the crowd, clutching a half-empty glass of something you didn’t order. The ice was melting fast — like the slow disintegration of what used to be your heart.

Shanks was at the center of it all.

Again.

He always was.

“Another round!” he bellowed, raising his cup high in the air as the Red-Haired Pirates cheered. The crew adored him. They should — he was charismatic, fierce, warm, and generous with his attention.

Just not with you. Not anymore.

Your gaze lingered on him. His hair, a fiery halo in the dim light, his grin — that same one that once made you feel like the most important person in the world — now belonged to everyone else.

He didn’t even notice you when you walked in.

“Y/N, there you are!” Lucky Roux called from across the bar, waving at you with his usual cheer. “C’mon, join us!”

Shanks looked over his shoulder, eyes falling on you for a split second. There was recognition — maybe even guilt — but it was gone too fast. He raised his cup in your direction. No words. No movement. Just a lazy toast.

You forced a smile, then looked away.

You’d been with him for two years. It had started with stolen moments under stars, whispered promises between waves. “When this is all over, I’ll settle down. With you,” he’d say, voice dipped in warmth, hand on your cheek. You believed him.

But it never ended. And you stopped asking.

There were always more islands to visit, more allies to meet, more enemies to fight, and more nights he stumbled back to the ship reeking of rum and adrenaline, too tired to remember your name.

You stayed because you loved him.

Or maybe you stayed because you were afraid of what your life would look like without him in it.

But tonight felt different.

You pushed your glass aside and stood, your legs numb from sitting too long. You crossed the room, weaving through sailors and crewmates until you reached him.

“Shanks.”

He looked at you, surprised. Like he hadn’t expected you to speak first.

“Can we talk?”

His smile faltered. “Now? Can it wait? We’re just—”

“No,” you said, quieter, firmer. “It really can’t.”

He followed you outside without protest. The night air was cool, the moonlight bathing the ship in pale light.

You turned to him. “Do you remember what you promised me?”

He blinked. “Which one?”

You almost laughed. “That says everything, doesn’t it?”

“Y/N…”

“You told me we’d settle. That you’d come back for me. That I wasn’t just another stop along your journey. Do you even realize how long I’ve been waiting?”

“I know,” he muttered. “But it’s complicated.”

“No. It’s not. Not really. You just never made space for me.” Your voice trembled. “I don’t need riches or islands. I don’t even need peace. I just needed to know I mattered.”

He took a step forward. “You do matter.”

“Do I?” You looked up at him. “When was the last time you asked how I felt? When was the last time you chose me over adventure? Over your crew? Over another drink?”

He opened his mouth, but no answer came.

You continued, softer now, each word heavy. “I used to believe I was lucky to be loved by you. But now I realize… maybe I was just convenient. Someone to come back to when the world wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, jaw clenched.

“Neither is loving someone who only loves you when it suits them.”

A silence settled. Heavy. Final.

He looked away. “What are you saying?”

You took a shaky breath. “I’m leaving.”

His eyes snapped to yours. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I have to. Because if I don’t now, I never will.” You paused. “I loved you so much, Shanks. But I’m tired of waiting for you to love me back in the way I deserve.”

You turned before he could say more, before the tears spilled.

The crew watched you go. No one stopped you. Maybe they knew too.

Shanks didn’t follow.

Maybe he couldn’t.

Maybe deep down, he knew you were already gone.

And this time, no promise would bring you back.

ZORO

The clatter of blades in the training room echoed through the ship like thunder.

Again.

You stood outside the door, hand hovering just above the wood, listening. Zoro had been in there since sunrise. The sun was beginning to set.

You pressed your palm flat against the door. It was warm.

He didn’t hear you. He never did when he was training.

You opened the door anyway.

He stood in the center, shirtless, sweat clinging to his skin, his chest rising and falling with exertion. His swords were laid neatly on the rack nearby, save for the one still in his hand — his favorite. Wado Ichimonji. His first love.

You didn’t speak right away.

He noticed you after a few seconds, green hair clinging to his face. “Oh. Hey.”

“That all you’ve got for me?” you asked, arms crossed.

He shrugged. “Been training.”

“You were supposed to meet me. Two hours ago.”

Zoro blinked. “Shit. Was that today?”

A beat passed. You tried not to let the disappointment crack through your voice. “Yeah. It was today.”

It wasn’t the first time.

Zoro wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t dismissive in the way that most would notice. He was just… focused. Sharpened, like his blades, honed only for one goal: to become the strongest swordsman in the world.

And you had once admired that. Loved it, even.

But lately, it felt like you were always chasing his shadow, always making room for his dreams, even if it meant shrinking your own.

You walked into the room, picking up the cloth he used to wipe his sweat, tossing it to him. “You forgot again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, running it over his forehead.

“I know,” you whispered.

And maybe that’s what hurt the most.

The days blurred.

Dinner conversations turned into one-sided stories from you. Nights became silent, save for the occasional grunt as Zoro collapsed into bed, already half asleep. You missed the way he used to fall asleep beside you — not just near you — like you were a harbor in his storm. Now, he drifted in and out like a ghost, always just beyond reach.

You finally snapped one quiet night.

“Zoro, do you even love me?”

He looked up from cleaning his blade, brow furrowed. “What kind of question is that?”

You sat on the bed, fingers twisting in your lap. “One I keep asking myself.”

He stood up, face unreadable. “Of course I love you.”

“Then why don’t I feel it?”

The silence that followed was thick. Not awkward — just empty. Like a room without furniture.

“I’m doing this for us,” he finally said. “Everything. My training. My dream.”

“No, you’re doing it for you. And that’s okay, Zoro.” Your voice broke. “But stop pretending I’m part of that dream when I’m just an afterthought.”

“That’s not fair,” he said.

“I used to think that too,” you whispered. “But you keep showing me otherwise.”

The next morning, you packed.

Not everything — just what you needed. You didn’t want to make a scene.

When you turned to leave, he was there. Leaning against the doorframe, arms folded.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, voice rough with sleep and disbelief.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He stared for a long time. “Why now?”

“Because if I stay, I’ll start hating you. And I don’t want to hate you.”

Zoro opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.”

He took a step forward. “Don’t I get a chance to fix it?”

“You’ve had a hundred chances,” you said, gently. “I gave you all of them.”

He looked down, the tension in his body visible.

You moved past him. He didn’t stop you.

Not physically.

But god, you wished he would.

You heard the sound of blades again as you walked down the corridor, echoing from the training room.

Zoro was already back at it.

Maybe it was easier for him to fight with steel than with words.

And maybe that’s why you couldn’t stay — because you needed someone who could choose you the way you kept choosing him.

Even if it broke your heart.

LAW

The Polar Tang was quiet at night.

Most of the crew had gone to sleep, their laughter faded into distant echoes through the metal halls. You sat alone in the infirmary, the light above flickering in tired pulses, casting shadows across the empty bed beside you.

It used to be your place. Your shared space.

Now it was just another cold room.

The door slid open with a mechanical hiss. Law stepped inside, coat trailing, his presence commanding — but not unkind. His face was the same as always. Calm. Collected. Impenetrable.

You didn’t turn to greet him.

“You’re still awake,” he said, voice low.

“So are you.”

He paused. “Long day.”

“Every day is a long day with you.”

That made him pause longer than usual. You saw it — the subtle twitch of his hand, the way his gaze lingered on you before shifting to the medical charts on the wall, as if reading them gave him a reason not to face you.

You finally stood, arms crossed. “You didn’t even ask how I’m doing.”

“You’re not injured,” he replied, like that explained everything.

You laughed bitterly. “You think that’s all that matters?”

He looked at you now. Really looked.

“You’re not bleeding,” he said, “so I assumed you were fine.”

“And that’s the problem, Law,” you snapped, “you only know how to fix things you can see. But what about everything else?”

He was always distant. He didn’t mean to be — it was just how he survived. You knew that going in. Law was brilliant, brave, and wounded in ways most couldn’t see. He didn’t wear his pain on his sleeve; he buried it deep, under layers of strategy and silence.

You once thought love could bring him peace.

Instead, it made you feel invisible.

He sat on the edge of the bed, removing his gloves with surgical precision. “If you’re upset, just say it.”

“I’m always saying it,” you said. “I say it in every look you don’t return, every time you walk out without a word. I’m screaming it, Law, and you don’t hear me.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m trying.”

“No, you’re managing. There’s a difference.”

You took a step forward, throat tight. “Do you even want me here?”

He didn’t answer.

Not for a long time.

When he did, it was quiet. “I don’t know what I’d be without you.”

“That’s not the same as wanting me.”

You turned away, swallowing the burn behind your eyes. “I need more than this. I need to be seen. Heard. Held.”

“I’m not good at that.”

“I know,” you whispered. “And I’ve been patient. God, I’ve been so patient.”

He stood. “Then what do you want from me?”

You turned back to him, tears finally slipping down your cheek.

“I want to stop being the person waiting for you to feel something.”

There were so many things he could have said. So many things he didn’t.

No promises. No pleas. Just silence.

You left the room, footsteps echoing down the corridor. He didn’t follow. You didn’t expect him to.

Law wasn’t cruel. He was just… unreachable.

And you couldn’t keep drowning in his silence.

Later that night, he stood in the infirmary, alone, looking at the chair where you always sat.

He didn’t cry. He didn’t break.

But he whispered your name once — as if it would echo back.

It didn’t.

MIHAWK

Perched on the windowsill of Kuraigana Island's cold, stone castle, you watched the sun slip beneath the horizon. Even the sunset here felt distant — as if the colors were afraid to bloom fully, like the love you once thought lived within these walls.

Behind you, the quiet hum of Mihawk’s sword being cleaned was the only sound.

You didn’t turn. You didn’t speak.

Neither did he.

You’d once thought the silence between you was peaceful — now it felt suffocating.

When you first arrived, you mistook his quiet for serenity. Mihawk was a man of discipline, of stillness, and you found comfort in his control. He didn’t make empty promises, didn’t raise his voice, didn’t falter. It made you feel safe.

Until the days stretched long and the silence became unbearable.

You would speak to him at dinner, only to be met with the clink of cutlery. You would try to initiate conversation, only to find him more engrossed in wine than words.

You once thought you were an oasis for his loneliness.

Now you realized you were just another presence he tolerated.

“You haven’t looked at me once today,” you said finally, staring out at the orange light dying over the sea.

Mihawk paused, the cloth in his hand stilling on Yoru’s blade. “I saw you this morning.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

No response.

You stood slowly, turning to face him. He was sitting in that grand, throne-like chair by the fireplace. His posture was perfect. Controlled. Remote.

“Do you even care that I’m unhappy?”

“I care,” he replied after a beat. “But unhappiness is inevitable.”

You blinked. “That’s your answer?”

“I do not pretend to be something I’m not,” he said, voice even. “You knew who I was when you came here.”

“I knew who you seemed to be,” you said sharply. “But I thought — I hoped — that underneath all of this control, you might want to be known. That you might let me in.”

“I have let you in.”

“To your house. Not your heart.”

The air crackled.

Mihawk stood, moving with quiet authority. “I do not offer affection like others. I offer stability. Loyalty.”

“I never wanted gifts. Or flattery. I just wanted to feel chosen.” You laughed, bitter. “But all I’ve felt is... tolerated. Like I’m just another item in your collection of things that don’t rust or change.”

He said nothing.

You stepped closer. “You haven’t said you love me. Not once.”

“I do not speak lightly,” he said, almost offended.

“I’m not asking for flowery words. I’m asking for anything that tells me you feel something when you look at me.”

He stared at you — intense, golden eyes sharp as any blade.

“I would not have allowed you to stay if I did not value you.”

A pause. And then your voice, quiet, almost broken:

“That’s not love, Mihawk. That’s possession.”

The silence that followed was vast.

And it said everything.

You turned away, heading for the door.

“You’re leaving.”

“Yes.”

“You may find no comfort in the world beyond this place.”

“Maybe not,” you whispered. “But at least I’ll feel something.”

He did not follow. He did not stop you.

And that hurt worse than any goodbye.

Later, long after you’d gone, Mihawk stood alone in the great hall, Yoru resting silently on the stone altar. A storm gathered beyond the window, wind rushing over the sea like a howl.

He did not weep.

But he looked at the spot where your chair had been pulled out, slightly askew — and he didn’t move it back.

Omg I absolutely love your posts. You're super good. Here, have my heart ❤

waahh! thank uu so muchh~ 💝(˶˃⤙˂˶)

it made me happy!

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

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

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

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

Clueless Hearts and Full Plates

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

Ace X gn! reader

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

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

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It was always a coincidence.

At least, that’s what Ace thought.

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

Like this morning.

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled. “Coincidence, I guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

Lucky timing.

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

You didn’t mind. Not really.

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

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

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

“Kinda?” you teased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ace grinned. “Gotta build character, right?”

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

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

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

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

He never asked. You just… wanted to.

And he just… didn’t notice.

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

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

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

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

He looked at you, puzzled. “Huh?”

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

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

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

You stared at him.

Deadpan.

“…Yeah. Sure. Let’s call it that.”

He beamed. “That’s so cool!”

You dropped your face into your hands.

But then—something changed in his tone.

“…Wait.”

You peeked up through your fingers.

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

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

“…Wait.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m such an idiot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank u for this! tho idk what this is, you dont have to gift me anything but either way i really appreciate it!!! 🙂‍↕️🥰

sooo what if reader and shank,established relationship,and they keep their relationship pretty hidden for a long while until one day one of their crew m mates found them making out/kiss(?) by accidentally but that crewmate keeps that secret hidden but slowly teasers them during dinner(which made the others confused) but soon after they kind of reveal their relationship and the crew goes shocked or something

thats a nice idea~ hope u like this!

Six Months of Secrets, Five Minutes of Hell

Keeping a relationship secret on the Red Force is hard — especially when your crewmate catches you making out and decides to turn dinner into your personal hell.

Shanks x gn! reader | ONE SHOT tags: sfw, fluff, secret relationship, banter, chaotic crew, red hair pirates shenanigans, humor a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc word count: 1.7k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Red Force rocked lazily on the evening tide, the low hum of laughter and clinking mugs filling the warm air. As always, dinner aboard the Red-Haired Pirates was less a meal and more a festival of chaos. Plates clattered, arguments erupted over who cheated at cards, and somewhere in the back, Lucky Roux and Bonk Punch were having a loud, messy food-eating contest that Makino would absolutely kill them for if she were around.

Amidst the noise, you and Shanks sat far apart — as usual. It had always been that way: yelling across the deck, trading jabs and insults like candy. To the crew, you were the ship’s resident cats-and-dogs duo: always ready to bite each other’s heads off, throwing punches (mostly playful, mostly), and causing drama like your lives depended on it.

Which made it the perfect cover.

Because behind closed doors — in stolen moments under the stars, behind barrels, in empty storerooms — you and Shanks weren’t fighting at all. In fact, if Lime Juice hadn't turned the wrong corner half an hour ago and seen his beloved captain pressed against you, hand tangled in your hair while your legs wrapped tight around his hips, he would still be as blissfully oblivious as the rest of them.

Instead, now he sat at dinner looking like a man who had seen the very fabric of reality torn apart.

You caught his eye across the table. He twitched violently and immediately looked away, face burning. Shanks, the bastard, just kept eating, hiding his smug smile behind a mug of sake.

It was going to be a long night.

Earlier That Evening

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You both knew better. But Shanks had looked at you a certain way, had that lazy, half-lidded, I'm about to ruin your life grin — and well, one thing led to another.

You were tucked away in the shadowy corridor near the storage rooms, your back to the wall, Shanks’ mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. Your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer. His hand splayed along your hip, anchoring you there like he never planned to let go.

"You know," you gasped between kisses, "someone’s gonna catch us one of these days—"

"Let 'em," Shanks muttered into your skin. "I'll kiss you right in front of them."

The taste of him — rum, sea salt, and something recklessly him — made your head spin.

"we're really pushing our luck here." he murmured against your mouth, hands skating under your shirt to press warm palms against your lower back

You kissed him harder in answer, swallowing the grin tugging at his lips. "You’re the one who dragged me back here, Captain."

He hummed, low and pleased, nosing along your jawline before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat. His beard scratched deliciously, making you shiver and clutch at his shirt.

"Couldn’t help it," he muttered, voice rough. "You looked too good tonight. Wanted to —" Another kiss, wetter, deeper. "— ruin you a little."

Your laugh dissolved into a gasp when he tugged you flush against him, hands greedy, mouth finding that spot just below your ear that made you tremble.

You twisted your fingers into the front of his open shirt, tugging him even closer, losing yourself in the heat, the hunger, the low rumble of approval he made when you bit his lip—

—and that's exactly when Lime Juice rounded the corner.

You barely had time to flip him off before you heard a yelp — a very familiar yelp — and the clatter of dropped crates.

You and Shanks snapped your heads around in unison.

Lime Juice stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights, mouth opening and closing uselessly like a goldfish. One of the barrels he was carrying had rolled away, leaking pickles everywhere.

"...Oh" he said faintly. "Oh no."

"Yo, Lime," Shanks greeted casually, still holding you scandalously close.

You elbowed Shanks hard in the ribs, making him grunt and finally step back. Lime Juice immediately spun on his heel and sprinted away, arms flailing.

You both stared after him.

"...Think he’ll keep his mouth shut?" you asked.

Shanks grinned, cocky and unbothered. "Depends. Might have to bribe him."

You rolled your eyes. "You're insufferable."

"You love me," he sing-songed.

You did. God help you, you really did.

Dinner — Lime Juice: Menace Unleashed

Dinner was supposed to be your safe zone. Laughs, food, and maybe some semi-violent card games.

Instead, you felt like you were on trial.

Lime Juice sat across from you, sipping soup very pointedly. Too pointedly. He kept darting glances at you and Shanks, grinning into his cup like he knew something the rest didn’t.

You felt sweat trickling down your back.

Shanks was no better. His fake casual air was cracking at the seams — his laughter a little too loud, his drinking a little too fast.

"Oi, [Name]," Lime Juice drawled suddenly.

You stiffened.

"If someone was, say, very... energetic... tonight, would it be because they had a good workout?"

"...Workout?" Yasopp repeated, confused.

You nearly knocked your plate off the table.

"You good?" Yasopp asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'M FINE," you wheezed.

The crew blinked.

"Yeah," Lime said smoothly. "Like, I dunno. Someone looked... very physically satisfied coming to dinner."

You choked on your drink so violently that Benn Beckman actually looked concerned.

"Oi," Lucky Roux said, frowning, "what are you going on about, Lime?"

"Nothing~," Lime Juice sang innocently. "Just making observations."

Benn Beckman narrowed his eyes. "You’re being weird."

Shanks shot Lime Juice a murderous look. Lime Juice only smiled wider, sweet as poison.

"And you, Captain," Lime said innocently. "You seem... loosened up. Someone helping you relieve that tension?"

You squeezed your eyes shut. He's going to kill us. He's actually going to kill us.

Meanwhile, the others were getting suspicious.

"Something’s weird," Bonk Punch muttered.

"Maybe they're possessed," Hongo said wisely.

Beckman was watching you two now, sharp-eyed. "You’re twitchier than Shanks at a wine-tasting."

"I am NOT twitchy," Shanks snapped way too fast.

You kicked him under the table. He kicked you back.

Even Monster the monkey was looking at you weirdly.

But Lime Juice wasn’t done.

A few minutes later, while you were mid-bite, Lime leaned back and loudly said:

"Captain~ Been... getting lucky lately?"

The clang of Shanks dropping his fork was deafening.

You wanted to sink through the floor.

The table stared at him. Shanks cleared his throat, cheeks darkening.

"Just... lucky at cards," he said weakly.

"Riiiight~" Lime said with an evil wink.

Hongo scratched his head. "Is he drunk already?"

"I don't get it," Bonk Punch muttered. "What's Lime talking about?"

"Maybe he's implying Shanks got laid," Yasopp joked, laughing.

Everyone chuckled.

Except you and Shanks — who went rigid.

Lime Juice just smiled, swinging his legs casually like a cat about to knock over a full glass.

When dessert arrived, Lime Juice decided to finish you off.

"Say, Y/N," he said loudly, as you reached for a slice of pie. "Didn't realize you had a thing for redheads."

You froze, hand hovering mid-air.

The whole table turned toward you like vultures.

"...What?" you croaked.

"Redheads," Lime Juice said innocently. "They're so... passionate, right? Bit clumsy. Lots of scars. Missing limbs, sometimes."

He was describing Shanks down to the last goddamn freckle.

"So, Cap. Hypothetically," he said, voice dripping fake innocence, "if you were secretly dating someone hot and chaotic, who throws knives at you for fun... would you keep it hidden? Or would you, say, be caught making out behind the supply crates?"

Bonk Punch's fork clattered to his plate.

Yasopp’s eyes widened.

Lucky Roux gasped.

"Wait," Benn said slowly, staring at you both. "Wait a damn minute."

"LIME!" you hissed under your breath.

"WAIT," Yasopp said. "ARE YOU SAYING—"

Absolute silence.

Even Monster the monkey dropped his banana.

Shanks groaned into his hands.

You dropped your forehead to the table with a loud thunk.

Then —

Shanks groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Fine. You win. Whatever."

Lime Juice’s grin split his face.

"Wait," Lucky Roux said, slowly connecting the dots. "Are you two actually—"

"YES," Shanks barked.

"FOR SIX MONTHS," you added miserably.

Dead silence.

Then all hell broke loose.

"WHAT THE HELL—"

"HOW?!"

"WHEN?!"

"WHY DIDN'T WE SEE IT?!"

"I THOUGHT THEY HATED EACH OTHER!" Yasopp screamed.

"BECAUSE THEY ACT LIKE THEY WANT TO KILL EACH OTHER!" Bonk Punch yelled.

"That’s called foreplay, Bonk," Lime Juice said helpfully.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Bonk Punch yelled..

Beckman just sighed like a man sixty years too old for this shit and took a long drag of his cigarette. "I'm gonna need another drink. Maybe ten."

The Aftermath

"You threw a chair at him last week!" Hongo yelled at you.

"It was flirting!" you shouted back.

"YOU BROKE A WINDOW!"

"IT WAS A SEXY WINDOW BREAK!"

Shanks just slung an arm lazily over your shoulder, laughing so hard he was hiccupping.

"So what," Shanks slurred, grinning. "You guys are just mad you didn't notice how hot we are together?"

"I'M MAD I HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT!" Yasopp howled.

Monster made gagging noises.

Lime Juice beamed with the pride of a man who had lit the match and dropped it into a fireworks factory.

You thought, maybe after the initial explosion, they’d move on.

You were wrong.

They would not shut up.

"So, Shanks," Yasopp smirked. "Who's on top?"

You hurled a bread roll at his head. He caught it and winked.

"Oh my god, did you guys bang in the crow’s nest?" Bonk Punch gasped.

"Don't answer that," Beckman muttered.

"You’re gonna answer that later, right?" Lucky Roux asked you, waggling his eyebrows.

"I’M LEAVING," you shouted, standing up so fast your chair toppled over.

Shanks caught your wrist, laughing. "Aw, come on, Y/N. You can't leave me alone to suffer."

"You’re the reason we’re suffering!"

"I call it mutual destruction, baby."

You kicked him lightly under the table. He kicked you back. Several of the crew made knowing noises.

Later — Peace (Sort of)

You slumped against the rail later that night, exhausted and mildly traumatized.

Shanks sidled up beside you, bumping his hip into yours.

"You still mad?"

"I’m plotting your death," you muttered.

He slung an arm around you, pulling you in.

"You love me."

"Unfortunately."

Across the deck, Lime Juice cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted: "USE A CONDOM NEXT TIME!"

You flipped him off so hard you nearly dislocated your wrist.

Shanks just roared with laughter, burying his face in your shoulder.

Maybe getting caught wasn't the worst thing after all. Not when you had this.

© ᵈᵒˡˡʸʷᵒⁿˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᶦᵛᶦᵈᵉʳˢ <³