#buggy x reader fluff

[infactmrmeowz]

Sleeping next to.. Buggy-Shanks-Mihawk-Ace-Sabo-Doflamingo

Like the last post I made but with random characters

Buggy- -Will twist and turn, bite, kick, punch, drool, yell, snore at that order. -plays with your hair before he falls asleep, but yanks it once he does ( not on purpose ) -he snores loudly

Shanks- -twist and turns, drools and snores like a middle aged dad. -cuddles you but drools on your head, and snores RIGHT by your ear. -gets up to use the restroom 6828293738228 times a night and he is SO loud about it

Mihawk- -snores but just a bit. -sleeps like a vampire. -terrifying once you wake up, accidentally punches him because you thought he was an intruder. -he forgave you

Ace- -he is just like buggy and shanks not even kidding. -because of his devil fruit it gets SO hot in the bed like it’s a sauna -and you and him get so sweaty -he cuddles you and DOESNT let go, so you can image how that goes 💀

Sabo- -he twist and turns and somehow manage to sleep upside down. -cuddles you at first then he falls off the bed. -sleep talks about how amazing Luffy and dragon is. -sleep walks. -one time you woke up in the morning and found in sleeping on the kitchen counter

Doflamingo- -he is SO much worse than Buggy and Shanks, it’s his violent nature. -he sleep talks about his dead brother and argues with his dead brother in his sleep. -has nightmares, and when he does he falls off the bed and blames it on you for taking up the bed space. -he thinks he is too good for you to sleep next to him so you got nothing to worry about

AAA that’s it! Cya later alligators! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[ask-irisstar]

Class Clown

A/N: Ya'll, this is SPECIALLY dedicated for my daughter friend who wants another Buggy x reader. She doesn't have Tumblr but still, I'm writing this for her. Requests are still open but not for long since I'm working on Sabo smut and Zoro fluff request. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this modern au head cannons ( Ps: Apologies for not being alive for the past month on so)

Notes: Husband Buggy x Wife reader, modern au, sfw, fluff

Your husband is a teacher in a college

You're the manager of a vintage bookshop

Every time after a long day at work, you guys would have a nice warm bath together

Usually, after work, Buggy would drop by your shop just to plan lessons for the next day

He's so frequent until it becomes the point you reserve a spot specially for your husband

As a teacher his working hours are really long, and he comes back home extremely tired from the late night.

He always says "Caffeine is life, I can't live without it." Although he usually says that he loves you more.

Seeing as to how he always looks exhausted, you worked really hard to learn to make coffee, hoping to impress him.

You always have a cup of warm, toasty coffee and small snacks prepared before his long day of work and after a long day of work.

Although he expresses it in his own way, he always finds a way to show that he is eternally grateful to you, his wife, for being so good to him

Your husband often comes back upset about how students and staff tease him about his nose. Even though he seems to laugh it off when it is mentioned, he feels very hurt inside.

You can sense when he is down so you cook his favourite comfort food to cheer him up and spend time with him.

Very loving couple 10/10

You still tease him about his nose though

He doesn't mind if it's YOU

Oh, you guys expecting a baby btw

______________________________________________________________

A/N: That's a wrap people! Hope yall enjoy this. Also, I'm going back into the dead for a bit but keep the requests coming before it closes!! Feel free to talk to me in my massages too, I love chatting with my followers! Special thanks to @pink-haired-anime-men for helping me write a majority of the story.

[discodreaming]

buggy tenses when your lips press against his cheek, his heart pounding and his blood rushing through his ears at how soft you feel against him. he doesn't expect someone to actually be gentle with him, he practically craves for more of your touch.

a/n: @chebullets have some food madam i hope you accept this as an appetizer for the main event

[gay-dorito-dust]

One piece men and the one thing you can get away with doing excessively.

Zoro - sleeping on his chest when he naps

Zoro preferred alone time, preferred his naps undisturbed, and his peaceful sleep unbroken.

Yet he couldn’t seem to ever bring himself to wave you away, especially whenever he would see you from the corner of his eye coming over with a light blanket clutched in your hand, eyes practically sparkling as a warm smile splayed itself across your face.

He didn’t find it reasonable to push you off of him when you made yourself comfortable on his chest, clinging onto him as though he’d slip between your fingers, before tracing patterns and words into the exposed skin of his chest as per your routine that Zoro had now memorised even with his eye closed.

It was practically ingrained within his head: He’d settle down for a nap -ready to drift off- when he hears you coming towards him, knowing that you’ve brought the same blanket that you always brought when he was about to have a nap, you settle down next to him and rest your head upon his chest while cuddling his side like he was some glorified plush toy of yours.

Despite wanting to sleep alone, undisturbed, Zoro couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips as he brings his arms to hold you close to him, tuck you under his chin almost and find himself out like a light soon after. Your weight is welcoming for Zoro, something for him to ground himself when he drifts from dream to dream and find comfort in knowing you’d be there, safe and sound when he awakes like you always should be.

Law - touches

Law wasn’t exactly against physical touch, it was just that he never allowed himself into situations where he could drop the ghosts of his past and reach out, as though something within him was holding him back from doing so.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like touch, secretly he craved it more then anything, but yet he felt as though he had to put a good deal of distance between himself and others, allowing only the briefest of contact to exist and leave him like a ghost.

So when you touch him -even if it’s a brief pat on his bicep- he didn’t feel the need to move away but instead to lean in to your touch, to your affection and allow himself to be greedy with it, hold your hands to his cheek and hum low in his throat as his eyes closed and just breath.

Though these moments would have to be confined within his room, where he could fully let the moment sink in, to let himself latch onto your warmth and comfort as his thumbs slowly caress your inner wrists, to let himself unravel and bare himself to you in this quirt moment of vulnerability. He may steal hearts but you were the first to have stolen his, kept it safe against your own as though it was the most sacred treasure you could ever come across.

Law found his mind has gone silent when your finger massages the furrow in his brow until his face is completely relaxed, only to then trace his jaw and the nearest tattoos within your reach as though you were admiring a work of art, appreciating what made him Law and respecting the things he’s went through without needing words to do so. He melts under your touch as if he was made of pure butter, he can’t help it as he had went without for far too long, and a smile would creep up on his lips too as he fully indulged in something he could call his own.

Buggy - kiss his nose

Buggy isn’t fond of his nose, not one bit, hates it even and has developed massive insecurities over it as well as a not so flashy image of himself.

He gets incredibly defensive over it or just hearing the word like ‘nosy’ or anything that might’ve easily gotten misinterpreted for ‘nose’ within his overthinking mind, making him quick to bristle up like a cat and lash out at whoever he thought was taking the piss about his ruby nose.

Yet when you grant it gentle kisses, holding his face as though you were honoured to hold him, caressing his cheeks and whispering sweet words about him and his supposed handsomeness. Sure he was a little against it at first, it’s a natrual reaction of his at this point, almost as though it if was muscle memory that he couldn’t get rid of even if he tried.

Yet in due time Buggy found himself melting against your affection, smiling softly as your lips met his makeup free face as though you couldn’t bring yourself to stop kissing him, or his nose for that fact as it was the main thing you often bombarded with an abundance of love and appreciation.

He grows addicted to the feeling of unconditional love that even on his worst days you were doing all you could to make him smile -even if it was a little- while peppering his face in kisses and words that only spoke of your true feelings towards him, and yet Buggy felt as though he hasn’t seen the bulk of it and this was merely a small percentage of how much you actually love him; that thought alone was enough to have poor Buggy as red as cherries and flustered to high heavens.

[thetrasha]

talking about your buggy, could we have a "fem!reader is under the influence of something and cannot lie" but reader actually has a crush on who's with them at the time of the fic?

i thought about buggy, sabo, sanji and law because to me they would die being complimented knowing she couldn't lie, but feel free to write about whoever you seem fit

thx a bunch viu!!

Thank you so much for the request, anon! (●ˇ∀ˇ●) This was so much fun, I loved the chaotic energy. I hope you like this one~~ (Plus: You know I appreciate a good Buggy ask 🥺)

Truth Serum Shenanigans

feat. BUGGY, SABO, SANJI, LAW, BROOK

In your defence… you were the scout for today, which is why you left the ship in such a haste.

You bolted as soon as the ship was anchored – the gentle rocking of the waves has been annoying you for at least two weeks and you felt unsteady on your own feet. It was the first time you’ve been at sea for that long – the Log Pose just wouldn’t show a reliable route and recalibrate every few hours, which meant that the course had to be corrected time and time again…

You barely had any grasp on what it felt like to have solid ground beneath you these days… so the mere sight of soil relieved you. Yes, the… profession you’ve chosen for yourself was indeed unconventional and time spent at sea could get rough, but you weren’t the only crewmate to slowly succumb to insanity!

And before anyone could steal this opportunity from you, you ran into the dense jungle – the stubby thicket was so dense that barely any light shone through… not what you usually went for when you wanted to explore, but you weren’t picky in this sad state of affairs. It was absolute bliss to be able to walk around freely and stretch your limbs without any water beneath you. You dared to say that this might have made you more efficient; you were covering so much ground all by yourself just because you were ecstatic to see a change of pace.

The vegetation was strange, but not extraordinary for Grandline standards. It was just a regular island you needed to use to stock up on basic supplies, such as perishables, wooden planks and freshwater – the latter having the highest priority. So far you weren’t that lucky. You’ve seen plenty of fruits – ones that looked so much like Devil Fruits to your untrained eye, with their hypnotic swirls and intricate patterns – and prey animals, finding food definitely wouldn’t be a problem… and there were enough trees around to supply a whole city with enough lumber, which means you were covered there, but freshwater? That was surprisingly rare.

You tried to dig a moderately deep hole with your hands to taste a hint of groundwater, but even that tasted somehow as salty as the ocean. You didn’t know whether this island was deeply entrenched with cyclical ocean tides, but considering that flora and fauna could live near the shoreline pretty much disputed that theory – or plant life and animals had evolved to withstand the saltiness of the ocean here. It was just… strange.

You continued walking through the jungle. Some vines had to be cut down to find a way through what had previously been clearly untouched nature, but after trekking through so much mud and moss that you’d forgotten where you came from – thank God for your compass and the vivre card your captain handed to you that would always lead you back to the crew – you could hear it:

The gentle, almost inaudible pitter-patter of water drops hitting another body of water.

You unsheathed your sword and cut through a tall grass and reed, closing your eyes to follow the sound. A few birds fled from the sharp swing of your sword, alerting other animals nearby that immediately retreated back into the jungle… so much so that it rattled the crowns of the trees around you. Lonesome leaves were falling onto you and landed in your hair, but you were concentrating on your observation skills.

And just when the sound was unmistakably near, you opened your eyes again.

A lake! Like an oasis, flowers representing each colour of the rainbow neatly framed the entire lake, gracing the surface with a few petals that almost made the entire thing look magical. The water looked too good to be true – crystal clear, almost glittery in nature, and pale blue.

Even though it wasn’t a great idea to drink stale water – a river would have been much preferable – you knelt down, feeling the lush grass beneath you. You cupped your hands together and scooped up some water. It felt different from anything else you’ve ever encountered before, but you’d taken a sip anyway.

Freshwater!

Oh, the others will be so grateful…!

And it was beyond delicious, too. Refreshing and almost fruity in nature. Definitely had a sweetness to it.

A great find.

So… why did everyone look at you like that when you carried back a sample in a flask…?

“Don’t tell me you… found the Fountain of Truth?”

“The what?”, you repeated, feeling funny all of the sudden…

BUGGY

Buggy was conflicted.

On the one hand, he knew he could count on your exploration abilities to find anything he’s ever wanted, but on the other hand, he felt frustrated with himself for sending you away – he didn’t think anybody ever read his inventory reports, but of course… you do read them. You were a perfect pirate with the perfect skill set… and you fulfilled your duties diligently.

And you’ve apparently read that you badly needed more freshwater reserves to continue travelling efficiently, meaning you, with all your good will and kindness, trekked through a jungle and put your health on the line to confirm the presence of water that is, first and foremost, drinkable. And nothing else. It was meant to be a surprise, a grand show opener if you will, to reveal to the other fools that you guys had found a great treasure that would guarantee absolute power… for a certain amount of time. He could extort any information with this!

Now you’re the one who’s under a spell though – you have to tell the truth, no matter the question or comment.

That’s why he was hesitating to be around you right now. You… could truly say anything and he’d know that it’s true. Even though having so much power over someone else’s secret was very much something Buggy was in favour of, you were still… you.

Maybe you’d tell him that none of your teasing meant anything to you – and he’d rather not know these things.

It was way easier to pretend.

But the crew clearly didn’t think you’d have to be kept under lock and key and sat you down in the common area, firing questions at you non-stop. The cackles that came from that room were unbearable, which caused Buggy to stomp over in the first place, huffing at the disrespect – especially when nobody even saw him entering the room. All eyes were on you instead… as was a literal spotlight stolen from the circus tent.

THESE IDIOTS!!!

“-out Cabaji?”

“…Tryhard.”

Cabaji growled at Mohji who’d asked the question in the first place, even glaring at Richie, who was laughing, too.

You were crushing this room without even trying like… a damn stand-up comedian.

“What do you think about the Captain?”, Cabaji asked with a sinister smirk, having seen Captain Buggy stand around while growing madder and madder at the commotion the crew causing – and now that you’ve made an honest joke at his expense, he wanted to get you into trouble.

“He’s funny and cute.”

“And about that nose?” Someone from the crew chimed in before they broke out in laughter.

“I like his nose.”

Absolute silence. The crowd went still – you could have seriously heard a pin drop in that environment.

Until Buggy made it very much known that he’s heard everything. He shouted at everyone to quit this nonsense and get the Hell back to work, for they’d still have to find a reliable source of water… and he shot a sneer towards Cabaji whose soul left his body for a moment.

Major fuck-up.

You could just… stare. There was no thought going through your mind – Buggy… he heard everything you said. And he knew you were telling the truth. What a disaster!

Maybe you were going to be thrown off the crew, maybe you were going to be tortured! - Wait… you guys don’t really do that. Well, maybe he will –

“Do you mean it?”, Buggy’s voice was meek and his face was set aflame in embarrassment.

The blush had already spread down his neck and painted his collarbones deep pink as well.

“Yes.”, you said bluntly. After all, you had to tell the truth.

He nodded, looking at you with so much wonder that it was hard to imagine that he was, in fact, a fearsome pirate with a bounty on his head. He looked like someone who’s never even heard these words uttered to him.

Or... like someone who… was completely in love.

“I think you’re very attractive, Captain.”

Buggy whimpered – literally whimpered – and his grin wobbled for just a moment before he turned around in frustration, berating you for being such a tease that couldn't even respect your captain and telling you to get back to your position. He wouldn't tolerate lazy idiots who couldn't even lie to him in that moment!

You shyly fidgeted around in your seat, not knowing what to say to him. Especially when he clenched his fingers so hard that his hands detached themselves from his body, falling down onto the floor.

And he just went and left you to your thoughts without retrieving his own body parts, his head in the clouds.

How you fell in love with this man – you’ll never know. But he was an endearing fool.

SABO

“The Fountain of Truth?! This is what we came here for?! You need to tell us these things, Sabo!”, Koala screamed while you were sitting next to Hack who was fussing over you.

Originally – apparently – Sabo had planned to use this powerful serum on underground brokers to find out just who’s really responsible for all that weaponry and explosives that kept ending up in countries at risk of civil war. Someone was trying to divide and conquer and the Revolutionary Army wanted to find out who it was – without forcing any of the Army Officers to investigate to be totally discreet about it.

Luckily for you all, you four were indeed pretty discreet. You were good at your respective jobs, but on a personal note…

“I would have liked you even more if you could have told me beforehand. I wouldn’t have tried to drink it.”, you pouted with sad eyes. You looked up at Hack who reported on the lack of water on their inconspicuous vessel and he could but raise his arms in defeat and apology.

“Liked me even more? That’s possible?” Sabo was always ready for a quick resort, utilising his charisma to his advantage. He was also too intelligent for his own good, figuring people out before they revealed any substantial info about themselves. As Chief of Staff, he was fantastic, but you thought he was an even better man.

“I doubt it, too...”, you sighed, looking at him with yearning burning in your irises, “You’re so pretty and… you treat me so well. You’re like a prince – wait, I don’t mean it like that! I hate nobility, but I mean-”

Koala’s cackles caught you off-guard, she couldn’t help but double over with tears in her round eyes, slapping Sabo’s back repeatedly while he was totally frozen in place. Hack visibly sweatdropped and turned around, feeling bad for the grave you’re digging for yourself.

“Don’t laugh, Koala!”, you whined loudly, alerting the other three immediately, “I’m just saying – Sabo’s so… ah, he’s everything a girl could want! He never strays from his principles, has vowed to save the world, but no matter how bad it gets, he tries to be everyone’s beacon of hope! He’s always kind, protects me every time I get into trouble and… he acts like-”

“We get it, (Y/N)…” Hack intervened, knowing that you’d be upset at them if they let you keep talking about your crush on Sabo. Mostly everyone knew what was going on between you two – you were already attached at the hip and acted like lovebirds wherever you went.

Sabo took every mission you took and even went as far as intimidating the recruits for flirting with you, telling them, in your name, that you’re definitely not interested and that they should focus on their duties, but… neither of you could see that you were basically married already.

“H-aaaaaaaaah?!”, Sabo pointed at you as you tilted your head at his beet red face while your two companions whistled innocently, “I… will… take everything that’s been said into consideration.”

Koala snorted once the mighty Chief of Staff pulled down his top hat to hide his red cheeks and those eyes that were filled with happiness. The grin he wore couldn’t be hidden from anyone’s view, though.

SANJI

You were sitting down in the breakfast nook of the Sunny, trying to answer a bunch of rapid-fire pop quizzes – most of its questions consisting of Luffy asking whether you think he’d become King of the Pirates, always getting a resounding ‘yes’ in reply at which he pumped his fist and cheered.

So far, you were asked if you’ve ever seen anybody drool in their sleep (yes), who it was (Usopp), whether you know who knocked over Chopper’s nightlight (yes), who it was (Luffy) and who replaced it without saying a word (Zoro).

The crew was excited to use you as a tool for entertainment.

Especially… well… there were two people who knew something that shouldn’t be discussed. One of them could be trusted with that type of information, but the other…

Nami smirked, “Who is your favourite crew member?”

“Chopper.”, you said without hesitation and a sweet smile aimed at your doctor. Robin smiled as well, letting your guys’ reindeer friend hop off her lap.

Chopper cheered, calling you names while doing his silly happy dance that always made you smile sweetly. He was… just the cutest.

Nami’s devious giggle did make you uneasy, though.

“Aside from Chopper… who do you like the most?”

“…Sanji.”, you revealed to a chorus of gasps – meaning Franky, Brook, Usopp and Chopper gasped with varying degrees of shock – and your eyes widened. You couldn’t even hold that information back! The serum was far too powerful.

Of course your roommate would find it funny to embarrass you like that. You haven’t paid interest on the money she’s lent you! She was out for blood now. Even if her eyes held a fond look within them. No matter how much she’s thought this would benefit you – she was dead wrong and the Devil!!!

And Sanji, having heard everything since he stood just by the stove, dropped a tray of refreshments.

All eyes darted over to him until the other members of the Straw Hats looked at each other and silently decided to leave the room.

Franky sent a thumbs-up Sanji’s way while Zoro raised an eyebrow at the chef.

Robin and Nami giggled at patted your shoulders gently.

THIS WAS TERRIBLE!!!

Sanji and you blinked at each other owlishly. Nobody dared to speak up first.

“Really?”, he said with a sad chuckle, “I know you have to tell the truth… but… why me?”

Your longing smile mirrored his own.

Sanji was a total idiot. He’s always lusting after women without meaning any of it. He just has to be useful to someone, to prove it to himself that someone out there could want him like that. He wants to be kept around, even if he doesn’t allow himself to hope. Maybe that’s why, whenever he was overbearingly kind to you, his eyes shone with something else – something different. Sanji never seemed to look at Nami and Robin like that; he acted like a moron around every woman, but he almost looked at you like you’ve already broken his heart many times, every time.

“You were there for me when I pushed you all away and never made me feel guilty for it. You believed in me when I couldn't do the same. I… need you.”

Sanji bounced back like your words had made a physical impact on him. His smile brightened, turning gummy before clicking his tongue, looking away from you. For the first time, you’ve seen him struggle to pull out a cigarette.

It was just his way of hiding his tear-filled eyes from you until he could blink them back.

“I think I love you…”, you added sheepishly –

–and watched as he tumbled over, eyes rolling back with a face of pure bliss.

But he did hit his head after fainting, which prompted you to run to Chopper in a frantic panic.

And… Franky and Zoro went in with horrifying expressions – katanas drawn and rockets ready to launch, thinking that this conversation went way different…

Pure chaos.

LAW

“Are you absolutely sure you drank from it?”

“Yes, Captain.”

You sighed as soon as Law used a tiny flashlight to peer into your eyes, inspecting your pupils. As soon as you came back and saw what you’d brought with you, he was furious… You’ve been told to get into the med bay immediately and stay there, while Bepo was to follow your verbal directions on how to go to this so-called legendary ‘fountain of truth’.

You rolled your eyes at Law’s expression. You were still sceptical about this… Of course, such a powerful potion would aid him in his crusade against his own tormentor, but you thought he was more rational than that. Nobody would have to tell the truth if they drank this; this was just a gimmick to make it seem like the journey was worth it. You were bound to free will.

“Have you ever tried to hide an injury from me?”

“Yes, Captain.”

You looked down in shame. You… You didn’t mean to say this! How was it… possible…?

Law squinted down at you in disapproval, almost eager to use his scan on you right now just to show you that he’s capable of taking care of you without being prompted to do so, thank you very much.

“Has anybody else on this crew ever hidden an injury from me?”

“Yes…”, you nodded, eyes looking anywhere but him.

“And did you assist this certain someone in hiding their injury last week before I could tell this unknown stranger about the importance of gloves?”

“…Yes…”, you replied, now knowing that he knew.

Of course Law knew what was happening on his submarine. But you did think that you were quiet subtle about hiding Bepo’s burn from Law… The polar bear didn’t want the captain to know that he burnt himself while you were all roasting marshmallows and making hot chocolate over a bonfire on a humble winter island near the Calm Belt. His paws were sensitive… and he wanted to look cool in front of the surgeon he admired so much.

Law sighed, his hands clenching and unclenching, “Who do you think I am?!”

His frustration with your carelessness oozed out of his every pore. He felt responsible for everybody on his crew and made sure to shield everyone from unnecessary harm. Your captain’s always been the one to take the most daunting tasks and leave the less-lethal stuff to you guys. Even in emergencies, you’re all looking towards him for guidance.

“The sweetest man alive.”, you blurted out.

And before you could cry out and try to redact your statements with a bunch of other true statements that would make it less obvious that you were hiding a massive crush on the captain, his reaction stopped your entire train of thought.

“WHAT?!”, he shouted, shaking you by the shoulders.

“I-I-I-”

“-WHAT??!!?!”

“I mean… it’s the truth…”, you said, looking away from him with a smile, “You always remember the last page I read even though I never tell you… and you always tell me where I’ve lost my bookmark when we're alone in your study. You also hand me a flower whenever we dock just to tell me to look it up in your journal. I don’t know if you genuinely want me to learn more about foreign plant life or if you just want to give me a flower, but you’re so sweet, Law.”

Law couldn’t make a single sound in response. He stood there… panting.

“I am going to go now. I'm looking forward to our daily chat later... when you're back to normal!”, he announced awkwardly, loud enough for anyone to hear as if somebody else had been in the room and then robotically walked away.

You could see that the tips of his ears were cherry red, though... so cute...

“Bepo, Mum and Dad are fighting!!” Shachi said to the polar bear who's just come back.

“NOOOO!”

…that was the last thing you heard until the crew erupted into screams.

Apparently, Law swapped a bunch of items in the common room with sea animals from below the Polar Tang.

You knew that he wasn't really angry, though.

BROOK

“Yohoho~ I hope you like this song, my dear (Y/N)!”, said Brook with a loving smile as you sat down in front of him, watching him entertain you as the rest of the crew made its way towards the thick jungle. Robin had informed everyone that the Fountain of Truth has been a tool for the World Government and CP0 agents for decades and Luffy couldn’t help but drag everyone into another mess – excluding you, of course, since you were now quite vulnerable. Since Brook was your best friend, he offered to stay with you to watch the Sunny.

“Of course. I love all of your songs.”

You really did. You also just… really loved Brook. He was always there for you – you’ve somehow taken to one another and now that you’ve spent so much time together, you’ve adopted each other’s habits. You’ve been humming a lot more lately and he’s gotten really into plushies. You reckon that it has to do with you trying to cuddle in his hammock… quickly noticing that his bones are quite hard. You didn’t want to make him feel bad, which is why you put a stuffed animal right where his pillow is and he’s kept it there since.

“I appreciate it!”, he mused in his sing-song voice, strumming a few notes on his guitar and smiling as soon as you mimicked the pitch with your own hums.

You were… an amazing woman.

“You know, Brook, I think you’re the most creative man on this planet…”, you commented absent-mindedly, looking into his empty eye sockets with a dreamy gaze that revealed your true affections for him.

At that, his breath hitched and he missed his own beat.

“You’re important to me. I know you know this, but I want you to be absolutely sure that it’s the truth. The most important person in my life!”, you smiled.

Brook nodded shakily, swallowing dryly. He couldn’t help but take a peek at your happy expression… You were always so… authentically raw around him. Your imperfections made you who you are, and he could see a soul that shines brighter than the stars beneath all of your self-critical thoughts.

But you were just as clever, of course. You knew that this sentiment just mirrored his own feelings towards himself – he didn’t believe that he was worth it either.

You were sensitive like that, noticed the little things.

“May I ask you a question?”, he murmured, pausing the song. Your eyes immediately snapped up at him.

“Of course. Now’s the best time for that, I guess.”

“Do you think we would have ended up together if I were still alive?”

Your heart just broke – and his did, too.

He looked at you with so much sorrow, even if he didn’t have the means to express himself like that. The coldness in his empty eyes was just… soul-crushingly sad.

“Irrelevant.”, you replied honestly, surprised at your own unmistaken clarity, “I love you just the way you are, Brook.”

He didn't say anything; he could just stare.

Then his bones turned pink. He was blushing!

“Yoho… ho… I love you, too, my dear.”

Somehow, that’s when it clicked to the both of you that everyone left the ship to force this moment – and you were suddenly very happy about the effects of the truth serum. And you giggled at this stupid turn of events.

...Was everyone but you two in on this mess?

[st4rpiece]

sleeping separately after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: mihawk, crocodile, and buggy x fem! reader summary: how cross guild would react to you sleeping alone after an argument CW: mainly fluff, slight angst others: not proofread, lowercase intended, and pictures found on pinterest

—————

Dracula Mihawk

mihawk is known for his stoic and composed demeanor. however, an argument that leads to you sleeping in the guest bedroom would shake his calm exterior. mihawk values control and precision, not just on the battlefield but also in his personal life. The argument would leave him feeling a sense of imbalance, disrupting the harmony he strives to maintain.

initially, he would analyze the argument with the same meticulousness he applies to his swordsmanship. he would replay the conversation, seeking to understand your perspective and where he might have gone wrong. he would be restless and his castle, usually a sanctuary of peace, would start to feel unusually empty and cold.

his conclusion? being right wasn't worth you being upset and distant with him. especially not when it meant sleeping alone.

"dear?" his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he enters the room.

"I would save this for the morning, but that would not sleeping in your arms tonight," he says, kneeling beside the bed and lifting you up bridal style. his actions catching you by surprise as you subconsciously wrap your arms around his neck for support.

"you can tear me a new one in the morning," he jokes (something he rarely did), before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he made his way back to your shared room.

Sir Crocodile

crocodile would initially react to an argument and subsequent separation with a sense of indifference. or at least that's how it looks on the surface. the argument would leave him brooding as he is not one to easily admit fault, and his pride would make it difficult for him to do so immediately.

he would spend the first half of the night in his office, surrounded by the trappings of his power, telling himself that you'd get over it soon.

as the night wore on, your lack of presence would make him realize that you weren't going to get over it soon. and by this point, he has had enough. he would make his way to the guest bedroom. without even bothering to knock, he would burst through the door, staring down your curled-up form. a pang of guilt would run down his spine as he looked at you.

"when are you coming to bed?" his voice rough, a complete contrast to the worry in his eyes and the guilt that he felt. he already knew the answer, so when you don't respond he would just lift you up, throwing you over his shoulder before landing a firm slap on your ass.

"you're mad? fine, be mad, but be mad in our room," he says sternly as he walks back to your shared room.

Buggy the Clown

buggy with his flamboyant and often comical personality would react to an argument with you more dramatically. the idea of you sleeping separately would initially infuriate him causing his pride and insecurities to flare up.

he would spend the initial moments of the separation grumbling and throwing a minor tantrum to anyone who could listen, convinced that he was right (he wasn't). however, as the night wore on, his anger would give way to the loneliness and regret he felt.

he would pace outside you door, muttering to himself as he debates whether to knock or not. not sure if you even wanted to see him after what he has done.

she's probably waiting, arms wide open, for me

or maybe she's packing her bags finally tired of my antics

oh nika i hope it's not that

in the end, he would knock on the door and try putting on a confident front even though he's low-key expecting you to ignore him. so when the door opens, the first thing you are greeted with is a shocked buggy, making another one of his goofy faces. this subconsciously cracks you up unknowingly breaking the ice for him.

"sugar! oh, how i've missed you," he would immediately pull you into a tight hug. and without much of a warning, he would start word-vomiting his apologies.

"i'm so sorry about my actions from earlier sugar and i’m sorry for being so stubborn about it. I understand now that i went too far and that i should’ve acknowledged that instead of arguing with you. but i promise that it won't ever happen again. so please forgive me this once, sugar?"

you don’t have it in you to send him away after all that so instead you would simply pull him into the room before turning and going back to bed this time with him following suit.

—————

part 1

hi guys! thanks again for reading, this is the second part and honestly the last, for op at least. buggy was surprisingly the easiest to write while mihawk was the hardest TvT. hopefully i did them all justice tho!!

i have a few ideas of what i want to write but if you have any suggestions for plot or character please let me know, i’m open to any ideas :).

[chaoticrockmusic]

ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ

❝​🇮​ ​🇰​​🇳​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇹​ ​🇮​​🇹​ ​🇲​​🇮​​🇬​​🇭​​🇹​ ​🇸​​🇴​​🇺​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇲​​🇴​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇳​ ​🇦​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇹​​🇹​​🇱​​🇪​ ​🇨​​🇷​​🇦​​🇿​​🇾​, ​🇧​​🇺​​🇹​ ​🇮​ ​🇧​​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​​🇪​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇮​ ​🇰​​🇳​​🇪​​🇼​ ​🇮​ ​🇱​​🇴​​🇻​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇧​​🇪​​🇫​​🇴​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇮​ ​🇲​​🇪​​🇹​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇮​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇮​​🇳​​🇰​ ​🇮​ ​🇩​​🇷​​🇪​​🇦​​🇲​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇮​​🇳​​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇫​​🇪​ ​🇮​ ​🇰​​🇳​​🇪​​🇼​ ​🇮​ ​🇱​​🇴​​🇻​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇧​​🇪​​🇫​​🇴​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇮​ ​🇲​​🇪​​🇹​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇮​ ​🇭​​🇦​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇧​​🇪​​🇪​​🇳​ ​🇼​​🇦​​🇮​​🇹​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬​ ​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇫​​🇪​.❝ ͠​🇸​​🇦​​🇻​​🇦​​🇬​​🇪​ ​🇬​​🇦​​🇷​​🇩​​🇪​​🇳​

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Slow burn, fluff, pre-love tension Word Count: ~1,200

______________________________________________________________

You only noticed it once Nami brought it up.

“You realize Zoro always puts himself in front of you during fights, right?” she said casually, barely looking up from her notebook.

You frowned. “Isn’t that just…what swordsmen do?”

Nami snorted. “No. He doesn’t do that for everyone. Just you.”

You had opened your mouth to argue, but your mind was already replaying moments from the past few weeks: Zoro stepping in front of you before an enemy lunged, catching a blade mid-swing. Blocking a flying piece of debris with the flat of his sword without even looking your way.

You had brushed it off. Coincidence. He was always intense about combat.

But then the island happened.

It was meant to be a simple supply run. A sunny, sleepy little port town. You were strolling back from the market, arms full of tropical fruit, when a voice behind you hissed: “Hand it over.”

You barely turned before someone rushed at you—blade raised high.

You did not even have time to flinch.

But Zoro was already moving—faster than the swing, faster than thought. His sword cut through the attacker’s strike before it could fall. One clean, practiced motion. Your would-be attacker dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Then Zoro turned to you.

“You okay?” His voice was tight, eyes scanning you head to toe.

You blinked. “I—I think so.”

There was no blood. No scratch. But Zoro’s jaw was clenched like he had failed at something anyway.

“Could’ve hit you,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “But he didn’t—”

“I let him get close.”

He said it low, more to himself than to you. That same dark expression—like the idea of someone even trying to hurt you was personal.

Later, you were hauling a crate of watermelons back to the Sunny. Your arms ached, but you were stubborn. You had it.

Until it was just… gone.

You blinked, turning to find Zoro walking ahead of you, the crate now slung easily over one shoulder.

He did not say a word. He did not look at you.

Just kept walking like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“…Thanks,” you said, jogging to catch up.

He shrugged. “Looked heavy.”

That was all.

But the pattern only got worse.

You were in the library one morning, curled up in a chair with a book. Outside, the rhythmic shhhk-shhhk of a sword slicing air drifted in. You got up, peeked out the window.

There he was.

Training, shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin as he moved with deadly grace—right outside the window. You tilted your head. That was not even his usual training spot.

Coincidence.

Maybe.

The next day, you were sunbathing on the upper deck. The sunlight was warm, lulling you half to sleep, until a shadow crossed over you. You squinted.

Zoro.

Doing pushups five feet away. Barely glancing at you. Not saying anything.

He kept going for an hour.

Just…there.

Breathing heavy. Silent. Focused. But never quite leaving your orbit.

That evening, Sanji leaned across the dinner table with a grin and said, “You’re basically her guard dog, mosshead.”

Zoro scoffed. “Don’t start with me.”

But he did not argue further. He did not roll his eyes or bark something defensive like he usually would.

Instead, he fell quiet.

And that night, as the ship creaked under the weight of the sea and everyone else slept, Zoro stared up at the dark ceiling of his hammock, arms folded behind his head.

He told himself he was just being cautious. He was strong. That was what strong people did—they protected the weaker crew members.

But your face kept flickering through his mind. That damn blade. The way your nose scrunched when you laughed. The quiet way you had said thank you, like it meant something.

He shifted onto his side with a grumble.

“Guard dog,” he muttered under his breath.

But the next morning, he was already outside the library window before you got there.

Training.

Just in case...

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Fluff, slow burn, oblivious-to-suddenly-slammed-with-feelings Word Count: ~1,300 ______________________________________________________________

“Come see this!”

You barely had time to set your drink down before Luffy grabbed your hand and took off running across the deck, dragging you behind him like an excited kid with a secret.

“I just saw the biggest crab on the shore!” he beamed over his shoulder. “Its eyes were like—this big!”

You laughed, stumbling to keep up. “Luffy, I’m still chewing—!”

“Chew faster!” he called.

That was Luffy. Every moment, every laugh, every weird discovery—he wanted to share it with you. He never said why. Just acted like you were supposed to be there. Like it made sense. Like he could not imagine it any other way.

When the crew stopped at the next island for supplies, he grabbed your hand again.

“Let’s get snacks!”

“I thought Nami told you to get rope.”

“Yeah, but snacks first.”

He bought ten different fruits, devoured six on the spot, handed two to Chopper, gave one to Usopp, then stared at the last fruit in his hand.

And without even a beat, he handed it to you.

You blinked. “What about you?”

“You like those,” he said simply, licking juice from his fingers.

That was all.

Like it was just a given. Like it made sense in his brain. Like you were—his somehow.

It took you longer to notice that Luffy always sat next to you. Not across. Not near. Next to.

At dinner. On the deck. At the bar in town. If there was an open seat beside you, it was his. Even if he came in last, even if it meant awkwardly squeezing in or dragging a chair across the floor, that was where he landed.

You had once joked about it to Nami.

“I guess I’m Luffy’s emotional support human.”

But Nami had just raised an eyebrow and said, “You think he’s like this with everyone?”

You laughed, but something inside your chest fluttered. Uneasy. Warm.

Then came that night on the island.

It was a casual little tavern—nothing wild. The crew was spread out, music in the air, drinks flowing. You were leaning against the bar, laughing with a guy from the local fishing crew who had a lopsided smile and a good sense of humor.

And when you glanced toward the table where the others sat, Luffy was watching you.

Not smiling. Not laughing. Just…quiet.

You made your way back eventually, dropping into the seat beside him with your usual ease. “What, no food left for me?”

He blinked, like you’d knocked him out of a thought. “Huh? Oh—yeah. Here.”

He pushed a plate toward you, then fell quiet again.

You nudged his shoulder. “What’s with you?”

He stared at the wood grain of the table. “Do you like that guy?”

You blinked. “Who?”

“The guy you were talking to.”

You chuckled. “Oh, no. He was just funny. Told a story about getting bit by his own fishing hook.”

Luffy nodded slowly, but he was clearly still in some headspace.

You did not push it. But he did not say much for the rest of the night.

Back on the Sunny, Luffy lay on the figurehead, arms crossed behind his head, eyes on the stars.

Something was off. Weird. Uneasy.

He liked being around you. That made sense. You were fun. You made him laugh. You always split food with him. You let him nap on your shoulder sometimes, and you smelled nice, and your voice was soft when you woke him up—

He sat up suddenly.

He always sat next to you.

Always reached for your hand first. Always wanted you to see the cool things. Always gave you the last bite. Always saved the good seat for you.

He rubbed a hand down his face.

“…Why do I care who you laugh with?”

It came out in a whisper. A real question.

The realization didn’t slam into him like a battle or a punch. It just… settled. Quiet and obvious and real.

He was in love with you.

Oh.

The next morning, you stepped out onto the deck to find Luffy already there, legs swinging off the railing.

He grinned when he saw you, as bright and boyish as ever.

“Hey! Wanna have breakfast with me?”

You blinked. “You already ate.”

“I’ll eat again.”

You snorted. “You always do.”

You walked over, and without even needing to ask, he patted the spot beside him.

Right next to him.

Where you always sat.

Where you... belonged...

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Fluff, tension, oblivious realization Word Count: ~1,400

______________________________________________________________

The rain came out of nowhere.

One minute, you were lounging on the deck, enjoying the warm breeze, and the next, a downpour sent the crew scattering indoors like startled cats. You made a break for the galley—sliding in just as thunder cracked overhead.

Sanji glanced up from the stove, already smiling.

“Looks like you brought the storm with you,” he said, flipping something in the pan without looking. “Good thing I kept a seat warm.”

You laughed as you pulled up a stool. A mug was already waiting there.

Chamomile.

Your favorite on rainy days.

You had mentioned it once—months ago—after a cold, wet mission left you sniffling and grumpy. He had not forgotten.

You cupped the mug in both hands and said, “Didn’t know you had psychic powers.”

“Only when it comes to you, mon étoile.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, and he turned back to the stove. Heart-shaped steam rose from the pan.

Literally.

Sanji cooked for everyone, of course. Every meal, every day. It was love, it was pride, it was art.

But yours were different.

Little things.

A garnish shaped like a starfish because you said it reminded you of your childhood. A citrus glaze because you once joked about missing a specific island fruit. A perfectly diced corner of onions because you hated the texture whole.

He never made a show of it.

He just knew.

You sipped your tea, watching the rain race down the windows.

“Do you ever stop moving?” you asked softly.

Sanji looked up.

You gestured around. “You’re always doing something. Cooking. Cleaning. Serving. Flirting.”

He grinned at the last one. “You forgot being devastatingly handsome.”

You laughed. “Right. That too.”

But he paused for a beat, eyes narrowing slightly.

“…I like staying busy.”

“Even when no one’s asking you to?”

“I guess I like having a reason to look after people,” he said, plating something with practiced grace. “It’s easier than talking about it.”

He set the plate in front of you—a warm, colorful dish that smelled like nostalgia and citrus and something unnameable that made your chest flutter.

You raised an eyebrow. “What is this?”

“Just something I thought you’d like.”

You looked down and—of course—there it was.

A tiny little orange peel shaped like a heart, resting on the side like a secret only meant for you.

Later, Nami strolled into the galley mid-rainstorm, dripping wet and grumbling.

“Sanji, please tell me you made something hot—”

She froze.

She looked at your plate.

Then at you.

Then at Sanji.

And then she smirked.

“You don’t act like that with us,” she said, towel in hand.

Sanji blinked. “Act like what?”

Nami pointed her towel at your dish. “That. The garnish. The candle. The literal ambience. What is this, a date?”

You nearly choked on your tea. “Nami!”

But she was already laughing, waving you off. “I’m just saying. He’s usually all googly-eyed and dramatic, but this? This is different.”

Sanji opened his mouth. Closed it. Frowned slightly.

“…I just like making things they’ll enjoy,” he said, quietly.

Nami arched a brow. “You sure that’s all it is?”

She left him with that.

Left both of you with that.

That night, the rain continued.

Sanji stood alone in the galley, hands in his pockets, staring out the window as the clouds rolled across the moon. He thought about Nami’s words. He thought about your laugh. The way you looked when you drank tea. The way you had smiled down at that plate like it made you feel safe.

He replayed the dozens—hundreds—of small things he had done without thinking.

He knew your favorite fruits. Your favorite colors. He could tell when your shoulders were tense from stress. He noticed when you were quiet too long and always managed to pass you your favorite mug before you even asked for it.

He did not do that for the others.

Not like this.

He leaned against the counter, exhaling slowly.

“…Different,” he murmured.

He did not deny it.

The next morning, the sun was back. The deck was dry. The ship smelled like the sea and fresh citrus.

You stepped out, stretching your arms over your head—and froze.

There was a small tray waiting by your seat. A breakfast just for you.

A folded napkin. A steaming cup of tea. And another little garnish, this time in the shape of a flower.

You blinked, warmth curling in your chest.

From the galley window, Sanji watched you notice it.

And for the first time, he smiled not because he was trying to charm you.

But because he just loved the way you smiled back...

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Usopp x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Fluff, mutual pining, light comedy Word Count: ~1,400

______________________________________________________________

You looked up from the bits of broken wood on the deck, brow raised. “Half a mango?”

Usopp nodded sagely, one knee propped up like a heroic statue. “The juice distracted it long enough for me to strike. Right in the eye. Boom! It cried out across the heavens!”

You laughed, brushing sawdust from your hands. “Wow. Sounds like you saved the entire sky.”

He tried to act nonchalant, but the way his ears turned red betrayed him.

“Y-yeah, well… it was nothing.”

But your laugh echoed in his head for the rest of the day.

You started helping him fix a busted section of railing after an especially rowdy sea king scuffle. He handed you nails. You passed him planks. Somewhere in the middle, your hands brushed.

Not even a full second of contact.

But Usopp’s soul left his body.

He froze mid-movement, eyes flicking to your hand and then quickly back to the wood. His heartbeat tripped over itself like it had never learned rhythm.

“Y-You’re good at hammering,” he said.

You looked up with a smile. “You think so?”

Why did your smile do that? Why is my chest warm? Am I dying?!

That night, he told Chopper in the infirmary with the gravity of someone announcing a terminal condition.

“It was nothing. Just her hand. Brushed mine. Totally normal. My heart didn’t do a fluttery thing. Nope. Perfectly fine. Totally unaffected.”

Chopper blinked. “Usopp, your nose is bleeding.”

“SHH.”

A few days later, you found a tiny handmade crab figurine on your pillow. Wobbly legs. Big googly eyes. Clearly sculpted out of something like melted candle wax and hope.

There was a note attached:

“For luck!! – Captain Usopp”

You grinned.

The next time you saw him, you had it tucked into your pocket.

He pretended not to stare at it. But his eyes kept flicking down to where the crab peeked out.

“You, uh… kept it?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.

“Of course I did. He’s good luck, right?”

Usopp nodded too fast. “Right! Super rare crab spirit. Repels bad dreams and seagulls. I read that somewhere. Definitely real.”

Your hand brushed his again when you tucked it back into your pocket.

Usopp made a noise like a squeaky kettle and practically moonwalked off the deck.

It was worse when you sat with him while he worked on a new slingshot prototype. Just the two of you, sunlight dappled through the sails, his tools scattered between you.

You picked up a rubber band, tilting your head. “What’s this one for?”

“Oh—that’s for the sky-splitting sonic burst function,” he said, then faltered. “Wait. I mean—it might be. It’s top secret. Probably. Still testing.”

You laughed again, that easy kind of laugh that always made him feel lighter somehow.

“You’re fun to build with,” you said.

He did not hear the ocean for a full five seconds after that.

The final straw was the map.

He had been doodling late at night—a fake island, covered in winding trails and strange beasts. In the corner, he scribbled a little stick figure version of himself. And beside him, another.

You.

Labeled “Sidekick!” with a star next to it.

He laughed to himself, soft and sheepish. Just a joke.

But the longer he looked at it, the more real it started to feel. The more right it felt.

The idea of you—beside him. On adventures. In stories. In dreams.

In everything.

Usopp blinked at the paper.

“…Oh.”

The next morning, you were helping Nami chart something in the observation room when Usopp peeked in, fidgeting with a new trinket in hand—some kind of polished shell creature on a string.

“For you!” he blurted, tossing it your way like a bomb and nearly missing.

You caught it mid-air. “Another lucky charm?”

“Uh, yeah! That one keeps your feet from falling asleep. And your heart. Maybe. I think.”

You gave him a bright, curious smile. “Thanks, Usopp. You’re always giving me the coolest stuff.”

He turned red to his ears. “Yeah, well… I give a lot of stuff to everyone.”

Nami glanced up from her maps and raised an eyebrow. “No, you do not.”

Usopp flinched. “I—I don’t?”

“You don’t give me weird shell creatures,” she said, smirking.

Usopp gave you a helpless shrug. Can’t a guy panic in peace??

You just laughed again.

He melted.

Again.

That night, he tucked the sidekick map under his pillow.

And for the first time in a long time, his dreams were not filled with made-up monsters or epic battles.

They were filled with you...

Sitting beside him...

Right where you belonged...

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Shanks x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Fluff, subtle tension, slice-of-life aboard the Red Hair Pirates Word Count: ~1,500

The deck of the Red Hair Pirates was alive with laughter.

A successful haul, good weather, and plenty of rum meant the crew was in high spirits. You sat near the edge of the gathering, warm drink in hand, watching the orange sky bleed into twilight.

Shanks was in the center of it all, as always—radiating charm, laughing loud, one arm thrown over Benn’s shoulder as he spun another story, likely exaggerated.

But his eyes kept flicking sideways.

To you.

Not obvious. Not intrusive. Just enough to check—Did you hear that part? Did it make you laugh?

When you smiled, he smiled wider.

You only noticed the seat-saving habit after the third or fourth time.

Someone else would head toward the empty spot next to him, and—without fail—Shanks would casually drop something there. A coat. His scabbard. A mug. A hand.

“Taken,” he would say, without looking up.

Eventually, you stopped hesitating. You would just settle beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Because it was.

The crew was weaving through a tight port town a few days later, all noise and bustle and market chaos. You were trying to keep up, head turning to take in stalls of glittering goods, when you felt it—

A hand, warm and steady, against the small of your back.

Guiding.

No words. No big deal.

Shanks kept walking like he had not just casually laid claim to your existence in public. Like he had not sent your brain short-circuiting.

You glanced at him.

He was pointing out some ridiculous hat one of his crewmates had just bought, completely unaware that your heart had decided to do somersaults.

That night, you sipped wine under the stars, legs dangling over the edge of the deck. Shanks joined you, letting his boots thud softly beside yours.

He handed you a new drink without being asked.

“Trade,” he said.

“Mine’s not even empty.”

“Still,” he shrugged, “felt right.”

You raised your glass. “To pirates with good instincts.”

He smiled, clinked his glass gently to yours, and said, “To us.”

You blinked. “Us?”

“Yeah,” he said, then paused. “I mean—the crew. Obviously. Us as in… everyone.”

But his words had already left his mouth.

To us.

It kept happening.

“When we get to the next island—” “We should fix that railing before the storm—” “If we go north next time, we’ll hit better trade routes.”

We. Always we.

Like his plans just assumed you would be there. Like his future did not make sense without you in it.

He never seemed to notice.

But you did.

And so did Makino.

You were sharing a quiet moment in the galley, watching the rain hit the windows while Makino stirred tea. She gave you a look—gentle, but amused.

“You know he acts different when you’re around,” she said casually.

You raised an eyebrow. “Does he?”

She smiled knowingly, sliding a cup across to you. “He pours your drink first. Always. He does not do that for anyone.”

You tried to play it off. “Maybe I just sit closest.”

“Mm,” she said. “Sure.”

When she told him later—cornered him in that way only old friends could—he chuckled.

“Do I?” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Cool. Effortless. Unbothered.

Makino just raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even notice, huh?”

“…Guess not.”

She left him with that.

But Shanks sat there long after the lanterns dimmed, swirling untouched rum in his glass, staring out at the sea.

Thinking about the way he always looked for you in a room. The way he stepped closer in a crowd without realizing. The way “we” had slipped from his mouth like it had always belonged there.

“…Huh,” he said aloud, almost to himself.

And then, quietly—

“…Damn.”

The next morning, you climbed up to the crow’s nest for some air.

And found a fresh mug of tea already waiting there.

Still warm.

With a little note tucked beneath it, in a familiar, uneven scrawl:

“Thought you might come up. —Shanks”

You chuckled, holding the cup in both hands.

Down below, on the main deck, he looked up once.

Right at you.

And for once, he did not look away...

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Buggy x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Comedy, fluff, mutual pining, dramatic clown behavior Word Count: ~1,500

______________________________________________________________

“You’re my favorite. Obviously.”

Buggy slung an arm around your shoulders with all the grace of someone trying very hard to look casual. It would have worked—if he had not announced it loud enough for the entire crew to hear.

Again.

From across the deck, Cabaji raised a brow. Mohji sighed.

“You always say that,” someone muttered.

Buggy waved them off with his free hand, gripping you tighter with the other. “Yeah, but this time I mean it. Don’t tell the others, though,” he said in a loud stage whisper, “you’re my right hand.”

You blinked up at him. “Buggy, your actual right hand is floating three feet behind you.”

“I KNOW WHAT I SAID.”

It happened all the time. If someone tried to pull you away—say, for actual work—Buggy immediately staged a crisis.

“What do you mean you’re going with them?” he snapped one afternoon, arms flailing as you stepped toward a crew meeting. “You’re gonna ditch me for those losers? I’m WAY more fun! I’ve got charisma! Flair! A fabulous hat!”

“You also have a cannon aimed at the kitchen again.”

“Do not change the subject!”

The worst was during performances. Buggy loved an audience. Worshipped attention. But whenever you were nearby?

He shared the spotlight.

“Get up here, (Y/N)!” he shouted mid-act, dragging you center stage by the wrist. “Do the bit with the juggling fish guts!”

You stumbled into the limelight, grinning in spite of yourself. “Buggy, I’ve never done this in my life.”

“Yeah, but the crew loves you,” he said, a little too fast. “Not me. The crew. I’m just doing what they want. Obviously.”

You blinked.

“Obviously,” you echoed, half-smiling.

He looked away, face flushed, and waved his hand dramatically. “Focus, people! Back to me!”

Then there was the night you fell asleep on him.

It was accidental, obviously. You had just finished a long supply run, flopped onto the nearest bench in the captain’s quarters, and leaned your head against his shoulder with a quiet sigh.

Buggy froze.

Like, completely.

Did not move a single muscle for the next two hours.

He did not even detach anything. He just sat there, stiff as a mannequin, eyes wide, face bright red.

The crew peeked in and saw the scene.

No one said a word. They just closed the door and slowly backed away.

He did not bring it up. Not the next day. Not the next week.

But he thought about it constantly.

Like a glitch in his brain he could not fix.

That warmth. Your breath on his shoulder. The trust. The way your hair had tickled his coat—

“AGH!” he shouted, tossing a barrel across the deck in frustration. “Why is this haunting me?!”

Mohji, sweeping nearby, did not even flinch. “Still thinking about that nap thing?”

“NO!!”

You, of course, noticed none of this.

Or rather—you noticed the Buggy-ness of it all: the tantrums, the declarations, the dramatic stunts. But you figured that was just how he was with everyone.

Until one night, you casually asked, “Do you throw everyone into the spotlight, or am I just special?”

Buggy choked on his drink.

You tilted your head, teasing. “Come on, Captain. You drag me into your antics all the time.”

“That’s—That’s—That’s—!” he sputtered, pointing dramatically. “Crew morale! I am a caring leader! It is for the people!!”

You smiled, leaning in slightly. “So I’m not special?”

He froze.

Silence.

His face slowly turned crimson.

“Well- …I didn’t say all that.”

Later, you fell asleep in the crow’s nest, curled up in a blanket.

Buggy climbed up to check on you—totally not because he was worried—and paused when he saw you tucked in and breathing soft.

He sighed. Quiet this time.

Sat down beside you.

Did not touch. Did not talk.

Just… stayed.

And that night, he thought:

Maybe you really are my right hand.

But if anyone asked, he would say:

“Shut up!! It’s not like that or anything!!”

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Slow-Burn, Realization Moment Word Count: ~2,000

______________________________________________________________

You barely saw it coming—the moment Ace became a constant.

It was not dramatic. No fireworks. No grand gesture. Just… a shadow that always lingered a little longer near your shoulder. A voice that always found yours in the noise.

“You good?” he asked after every mission, every skirmish, even if you had not been on the front lines.

Casual tone. Easy grin.

But his eyes scanned your face for any sign of damage. Always.

The first time he handed you his hat, you were half-asleep on the deck, one arm draped over your eyes to block the sun. Without a word, something warm and worn settled across your face—the faded brim of his beloved hat.

You peeked out from under it. “You’ll get sunburned.”

He just shrugged. “You need it more.”

Then sat down nearby, arms folded behind his head like it was no big deal. But every few minutes, you felt his gaze flick over—just checking. Making sure it had not slipped. That you were still comfortable.

Like warmth, without the fire.

In group conversations, you were quiet.

Not shy—just the type who waited for your moment. But one afternoon, someone interrupted you before you could finish your thought.

Ace’s arm casually slung around a barrel, but his voice cut sharp and clear.

“Let them finish.”

Everyone blinked. The guy apologized. You picked up where you left off.

Ace just gave you a little nod, like it was automatic.

Because it was.

He brought you things. Dumb things. Random things.

A flower he said “looked kind of like your hair, if you squint.” A shell shaped like a spiral. A rock that sparkled faintly in the sun.

“Reminded me of you,” he said with a lazy grin and a shrug, like he did not think about it twice.

But he did think about it.

Later. Alone. Lying in his bunk, one arm behind his head, the other draped over his eyes as the ship creaked gently beneath him.

Why does everything remind me of them? Why do I look for something to give them every time we dock? Why is their smile the first thing I picture when I find something beautiful?

He never had answers. Just heat curling low in his chest.

And then came the day you got hurt.

It was not life-threatening. Just a deep gash across your arm from a surprise ambush while scavenging supplies.

But Ace saw red.

He was fire and fury and reckless rage—blasting forward, taking down three of the attackers in seconds, fists lit with flame and jaw tight with fury.

Marco had to hold him back. “They’re down, Ace. Let it go.”

He shook him off, breathing hard, chest rising and falling like a storm just barely held back.

When he finally made it back to you, his hands were shaking as he checked the wound. “Why were you out there alone? You should’ve waited. You should’ve called me—”

You blinked up at him. “Ace. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, look at this!” His voice cracked. He grabbed a cloth, hands too rough, trying to stop the bleeding like he could rewind time.

The others stood a little ways off, unsure whether to help or stay back.

Someone whispered under their breath, “…He’s acting like he’s in love with them or something.”

Ace froze.

Everything inside him stopped.

The cloth slipped from his hand.

His eyes flicked up to yours—wide, stunned, almost confused.

He’s acting like he’s in love with them.

Wait.

Wait...

Waitwaitwait-

Shit..!!!

You watched him go still. Watched his expression shift like tectonic plates—something slow, deep, irreversible.

“Ace?” you asked softly.

He blinked, like he was waking up.

And then he stood abruptly, muttering something about needing air. You watched the orange of his back fade down the corridor, swallowed by sunset.

Later that night, he came back.

Not with words. Not with an apology or confession.

But with a small box.

He handed it to you without a word, ears pink.

You opened it.

A piece of sea glass—perfectly smooth, the color of moonlight. Nestled beside a tiny sketch of you, drawn on a scrap of parchment. Rough, shaky lines. Obviously his.

“You drew this?” you asked, touched.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I dunno. You were asleep on the deck and I got bored.”

You looked at the sea glass. Then at him.

And smiled.

“Ace?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever realize something… let me know, okay?”

His eyes met yours.

Slowly, a grin tugged at his mouth. “I think I already did.”

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Subtle romance, emotional tension, hurt/comfort, slow realization Word Count: ~2,000

No one was allowed in Law’s space.

Not physically. Not emotionally. Not even Bepo got close without permission, and Bepo had known him the longest.

Except… you.

You did not even notice it at first. The way you stood beside him during briefings, how your arms brushed when you handed him charts. The quiet nights on the deck where you ended up sharing a coat when the cold got sharp.

And Law—silent, controlled, aloof Law—never said a word.

Never moved away.

He had a way of explaining things to you that felt like he had actually taken the time to translate his brain.

One evening, after a minor scuffle, he was treating Penguin’s bruised ribs. You came to check in, and Law started explaining the healing process—not in his usual clipped medical terms, but slower, gentler, clearer.

“I’ve asked you that same question,” Shachi grumbled from nearby. “You never explain stuff like that to me.”

Law did not even glance up. “They actually listen.”

But it was more than that. You made him want to talk. Made it easy to unravel the tightly wound pieces of himself, like pulling threads from a knot without it even hurting.

He did not know how you did it.

He just… let you.

He noticed things.

The way your hands fidgeted at your sides when you were nervous. The kind of food you gravitated toward after a rough day. The specific tone your voice took when you were genuinely excited—light and airy, eyes bright like sunrise.

He did not forget any of it.

You once mentioned liking a specific island pastry in passing. When the crew docked there weeks later, Law returned from an errand with a box of them in hand.

“Coincidence,” he said, handing it off without looking you in the eye.

“Law…”

“Coincidence.”

You got hurt once. A bit of a gash. Something another crew medic could’ve easily handled.

But Law was the one who showed up with the medical bag, silent and focused, gloves snapping on.

“I could’ve waited for Jean Bart,” you said, raising a brow.

Law avoided your gaze, inspecting the cut. “I do not trust their technique.”

“But it’s a shallow cut.”

He cleaned it anyway. Wrapped it slowly. Pressed a final strip of gauze on with careful fingers.

You looked at him. “You always take care of me.”

“I am the doctor.”

“That’s not why.”

He did not answer.

Then there was the laughter.

You had been talking to another pirate—a temporary alliance, nothing serious. Something the crew barely cared about.

But Law… noticed the way you laughed. How relaxed you were.

How someone else was the reason for that smile.

His chest tightened. It felt stupid. Irrational.

“That is not jealousy,” he muttered under his breath.

Bepo, beside him, gave a look so loud it may as well have spoken.

Law scowled. “It’s not.”

But he clenched his jaw the rest of the night.

The breaking point came with a question.

Simple. Offhanded. A crew member joking at dinner.

“What would you do if (Y/N) left the crew?”

Law froze.

Fork halfway to his mouth. Eyes suddenly unreadable.

The table went quiet.

You looked over at him, sensing something shift in the air.

He said nothing.

Because the real answer—the only answer—was this:

I would go after you.

I would leave everything.

I would not be okay.

And that terrified him.

Later, alone in the infirmary, he sat with a half-finished chart in his lap, hand motionless over the paper.

His mind replayed the question over and over.

Not what would happen to the crew. Not how it would affect his plans.

Just you.

Your absence. The silence of it. The hole it would leave.

I’m in love with them.

He exhaled, slow and quiet.

Shit...

______________________________________________________________

Pairing: Sabo x Reader (Pre-Relationship) Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Love Realization, Slow Burn Word Count: ~2,000 ______________________________________________________________

With Sabo, it always felt like you belonged at his side—even before he realized how much that meant.

You were part of the Revolutionary Army—smart, capable, steady. A good comrade. A better friend.

At least, that was how he described you.

To himself.

To others.

And yet…

He started saving seats beside him.

It was not on purpose at first—just a spot left open next to him during meals, briefings, downtime. His coat draped across a second chair, or his hat tossed there like a marker.

If someone tried to sit, he’d glance up, confused. “Oh—sorry, that’s for (Y/N).”

He never thought much of it.

You did.

He asked your opinion on everything.

Not just mission plans or logistics. But things like, “Do you think this tie’s too formal for a peace talk?” or “Would this soup be better with ginger or mint?”

You laughed once and said, “Are you always this picky?”

He smiled, tilted his head. “Only when you’re around to help me choose.”

He shared the things that mattered.

Books that made him think. Photos of towns he wanted to rebuild. Quiet pieces of his past—the good ones, the ones untouched by fire and grief.

You saw a different side of him. One that sparkled quietly beneath the weight he carried.

And he saw you as the safe place to set it down.

But he also grew… protective.

One time, you volunteered for a high-risk scouting job. Nothing outrageous. But before you even finished explaining your plan, Sabo cut in.

“I’ll go instead.”

You blinked. “Sabo, I can handle it—”

“I know you can,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “But I’m more familiar with the terrain. It makes sense.”

You exchanged a look with Koala, who raised a brow behind him.

Later that night, she cornered him.

“You know you’re in love with them, right?”

Sabo laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Koala: “Mm. Sure. You nearly yelled at Hack because they almost got a splinter.”

Sabo: “That was different.”

Koala: “Okay.”

It was not different.

He brought you things.

Not in a flashy way—just little gifts. A worn book with your favorite theme. A pouch of dried fruit you liked. A scarf when the mountain air got too cold.

“Found it on the way back,” he’d say, casual, like he had not thought about you the whole trip.

But he had.

One night, after a celebration—small victory, small village—you danced with someone else.

Sabo smiled. Genuinely, at first.

Then you laughed—soft and free, head thrown back—and his chest tightened.

A twist of heat. A flicker of something sharp and unfamiliar.

He turned away before he could watch any longer.

Koala caught him staring at the wall with a far-off look. “You okay?”

He blinked. “Yeah. Just tired.”

He was lying.

The realization came quietly.

You were late coming back from a solo mission. Just by an hour. But that hour stretched out into something tight and heavy in his ribs.

He stood by the gate, arms folded, trying not to pace.

Koala came to stand beside him. “They’ll be fine. You trained them yourself.”

“I know.”

But his voice was thin. Worried. Too worried.

When you finally returned—mud on your boots, smile crooked, only a scratch on your cheek—he let out a breath like someone had released a pressure valve inside him.

“You’re late,” he said.

You grinned. “Miss me?”

He did not answer.

Not out loud.

But later, alone, he sat on the edge of his bunk and whispered to the dark:

“…Yes.”

A few days later, someone asked him a simple question:

“If (Y/N) left the army tomorrow… would you follow?”

He did not even answer.

Just went silent.

Because the answer was yes. And that scared the hell out of him.

______________________________________________________________

CHAT. DID I EAT? AHAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! I DID SO GOOD, I'M SO PROUD!

[glitchtricks94]

Dancing feat. One Piece Men!

Genre: Fluff Content Warnings: None Characters: Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Shanks, Zoro, Sanji, Brook, Jinbe x Reader (separate) Summary: A simple group of separate drabbles loosely tied together over one theme; dancing with them. Network: @pixelcafe-network Kick back, relax, and enjoy~

Dracule Mihawk

Dancing with Mihawk is a once in a blue moon activity, treating such a thing with you with reverence and seriousness, almost taking it to levels that rival his dedication to his swordsmanship. He rarely likes to break the soothing sound of silence with anything outside of your voice, so even convincing him to allow you to put on a record of gentle piano or the sweetened notes of a longing violin are a stretch. The occasions he allows such a thing are either special or when he’s in a very warm and affectionate mood, which is rare, as previously mentioned, but if it isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve ever experienced when he puts on a record, one you’ve noted as being your favorite many moons ago when you both just barely began sharing a homestead, of his own accord, turning to you with eyes that normally were sharp and focused now filled with saccharine sweet honey of affection. Holding out a hand, he silently asks you a question, one that you could never refuse, giving your answer to him easily in the form of your hand in his as he gently tugs you towards his frame, no resistance on your end. He’s careful, steps precise. After Mihawk learned that you tended to sway gently when you chose to embrace him for longer periods of time, he took to the potential idea that you perhaps were fond of dancing. He could never find it in his heart to deny you something so simple. He began to practice during his time away from you when his work wasn’t consuming him. You always held his heart when you both were separated, as he held yours, so one night when he returned, exhausted and worn, he allowed the small jolt of energy you often shot through him to take root, as he pulled you to his chest and began to sway with you. You instantly fell into step with him, a joyous glow glittering in your eyes, one that Mihawk made sure to commit to memory as he leaned in to steal a weary kiss.

Mihawk’s movements grew more calculated the next time he chose to pull you into a dance, his eyes watching yours carefully as you gazed up at him with sheer adoration. Satisfaction radiated off him in waves, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he expertly guided you as if you’ve both already performed this routine a million times over. He twirled you out, away and back into his grasp, moving to put you in a low dip, lips grazing your neck in a feather light kiss. “My, aren’t you turning on the charm, tonight,” you teased, taking note of the small tick of a smirk pulling at the lips of your lover. A microscopic movement, really, but if your attention to detail didn’t help you decipher this man, then you felt as though he wouldn’t be twirling you in his arms right this moment. “Perhaps such an observation is correct, my rose,” Mihawk hummed, holding you close to his chest, seeming to enjoy the feeling of your hand in his, the other resting gently on his shoulder as you both silently danced towards an open balcony. The moonlight outside bathed both of you in an ethereal glow as your dance came to a close, Mihawk once more dipping you and pressing a kiss to your neck. “Consider me under your spell, my dear,” you crooned, eyes falling half lidded as a smile painted your features, Mihawk mirroring your expression in his own, beautifully stoic way.

“Good. I would expect such a thing from my betrothed,” Mihawk hummed, pulling you back up to where your chest was pressed against his once more. He trailed a hand up your arm to gently brush his fingers along your jawline, golden eyes memorizing every detail. “What’s such a tender look doing on your face, dearest?” “I do believe that it isn’t a crime to admire how my intended looks on a night such as this one.” “Oh, such poetry!” You gasped dramatically, a laugh escaping you and a sigh from Mihawk’s nose, his head shaking at the theatrics you posed. “You’re worse than that damned clown at times, my rose.” “Now, that’s just mean,” you snickered, playfully swatting Mihawk’s shoulder as he released another chuckle from his throat. “Is that so? Then, tell me, how could I ever earn your forgiveness?” “Kiss me again?” “As you wish, my rose,” Mihawk utters before sealing his lips to yours and guiding you back inside to continue your dance of passion.

Sir Crocodile

Any kind of dancing is rare with Crocodile, but when he indulges in a dance or two, he always ensures to take your breath away. He may be a large man, but with his own skill and a dash of help from his devil fruit abilities here and there, he’ll make it feel as though you both were gliding on thin air. When Sir Crocodile dances, he often chooses a simple waltz, a particular form you had said was a favorite of yours when it came to a more romantic atmosphere, it was something simple, yet elegant. Fitting for you in his opinion, as you never gravitated towards things that were gaudy and overly expensive; refreshing if not a tad relieving. He enjoyed and relished that you reveled in his attention rather than his wallet. Attending an upscale function with other influential figures of the past decade, you on his arm looking around with a practiced eye, your gaze trailing up to his disinterested face and locking eyes with him, Crocodile effortlessly navigated the room, talking with those of interest before taking a seat at the bar with you. He always seemed to find the most exciting detail about any location to be whether or not you are beside him, his time in Impel Down only further perpetuating such a thing and drawing him closer. Tonight, he seemed to feel more bold than usual about his attachment to you, as when the provided orchestra began to play a slower tempo, he stood, looking to you with practiced ease. “Would you care for a dance, my treasure?” He asked, his voice low enough for you to hear but not draw the attention of others. You simply flashed him a brilliant smile as you stood from your position atop the barstool, stepping right into his open grasp with so much trust and confidence, Sir Crocodile could shed a sarcastic tear of pity. He truly didn’t know why you held such confidence in him to not hurt you, given you bore witness to his treatment of others when they outgrew their usefulness to him. Perhaps he should unpack that another time. Stepping out onto the dancefloor, Sir Crocodile easily pulled you to him and twirled you into a perfect position, the two of you effortlessly synching up with each other, him taking the lead. That feeling as if you were both dancing on thin air swept over you, and you found yourself unable to look away from your beloved’s face, his expression cold, and eyes barely glittering with enough warmth to be counted as a mere ember from the bonfire you had constructed from within his chest. You were utterly captivated by him and he knew it.

Oh, such a pretty gem you were, polished to perfection in the fine garb he had chosen for you to wear that evening, that glorious glimmer in your eye reminding him of mountains of gold as you lost yourself in his presence; it all dripped down and settled on Crocodile’s tongue like a finely aged wine. He simply couldn’t get enough. The dance ended with a simple bow to him, his hand never leaving yours as he returned the gesture, tucking his hook behind his back before you both stood upright once more, returning to your previous stances with you hanging off of his arm the way he preferred. The evening was folding to a close for you both, as Crocodile’s patience was beginning to crumble with those around him and you could feel your eyelids begin to grow heavier. Solitude was needed for you both. What you never expected when you returned home was for your much larger lover to pull you closer to him once more and perform a few simple steps to the waltz you performed earlier with him that very evening, eliciting a soft, sugary laugh from your throat to match the smug smile he wore on his charred face. “You’re more energetic than I thought!” You snickered, looking up at Sir Crocodile with mirth dancing in your eyes. “Savor it, my treasure, for it will not last long.” “I never said I wouldn’t, my sun,” you coo before you found your lips taken in a long, languid kiss.

Buggy The Clown ~700 words

Buggy was never really the dancing type. At least, not with all those unflashy, fancy types of moves. Buggy was made to sparkle, shine and forever be in the spotlight; the eccentricity, the wild charm, the loud, booming voice, that’s what made Buggy who he was! It was quite the contrast to when he met you, a rowdy, but rather traditional performer at some pirate pub he and his crew crashed at after a rough stint on the waters. Somehow, after the liquor and cocktails poured like waterfalls, he managed to charm you into joining his crew as the pretty little thing that hung on his disembodied arm. Buggy was honestly elated that you joined as he could hardly take his eyes off you, and the crew often went to you if they needed the clown to loosen up a bit on everyone, to which you were happy to put on the facade of the pouty lover who wanted more “Buggy time,” as you phrased it. It worked often and actually helped your beloved captain de-stress as well. It was during these days that Buggy learned more about what kind of performances you often did while back on that pint sized island you used to live on. You often loved to dance, stuff that reminded him of some prissy ballet dancers he came across ages ago, except, you seemed to blend it with older ballroom dances. Hell if he knew which ones, though, he’s a clown, he’s bright and flashy not overly fancy, and Buggy was sure as anything not about to start making fundamental changes about himself or his lifestyle. Blue eyes trailed after your spinning figure, watching you with content pooling in their gaze as a relaxed, red painted smile rested below them. Your hands were raised as if someone was holding them as you began to spin, giving Buggy an idea. His smile morphed into a playful smirk as he popped off his hands, floating them over to slot over yours. Your eyes shot up to the foreign feeling that tickled at your fingers, a smile overtaking your features seeing such familiar leather trying to anchor to your hands. So he was finally taking you up on your offer!

You easily twined your fingers with Buggy’s, hands slotting together like puzzle pieces, your eyes darting to his with a sparkle in them as you resumed dancing, twirling and tugging his hands as he pulled at your own, causing constant missteps in your little performance before starting to just use his strength to spin, pull, and maneuver you to his heart’s content, laughter filling the air. “Buggy, baby, darling, my sweet little candy coated gumdrop,” you call, playfulness dripping from your voice. Buggy groaned and looked at you with a deadpan stare for a moment before melting into a fit of giggles. “Yes, my star?” “Will you finally be allowing me to teach you bits of my routine? You know I’ve been wanting to!” You said, your tone taking on a slightly melodic quality. Buggy hummed before shrugging upon seeing you give him your infamous puppy eyes. “Alright, alright,” he huffed, no real annoyance in his voice. Getting up from his perch on a barrel, Buggy trotted over to you, a lazy smile slowly painting over his features until he stopped in front of you, raising his arms and reattaching his floating body parts to himself. “Start teaching, starlight. You got yourself a student here.” You let out a giggle as you started trying to show him how you moved through your moves so fluidly, Buggy clumsily copying your movements and grabbing onto you to keep his balance more often than he would ever dare to admit. Buggy would also never admit to purposely messing up whenever he fell down just so he could see your smile and hear your encouraging words. He’d never tell you that whenever you gifted him your beautiful praise, love and encouragement he felt as if he was tasting a sweet honey on his tongue, that he valued your words more than anyone else’s. It’s such a shame he can’t hide such things from you, but you don’t mind keeping your lips sealed. “C’mon, honey, let’s try again!”

Red-Haired Shanks

You didn’t take him for a dancer. A partier? Oh, yes, good times always rolled with Shanks. A drinker? Absolutely, you could guess he could empty twenty barrels of booze by himself. A dancer? That was unexpected. You felt a bit silly, however, as Shanks was all about having a good time and sharing the happiness with others. It was practically integral to him as a person. “You’re staring again,” came the voice of the ever so calm Benn Beckman, first mate and your most trusted confidant. “I have no idea what you’re talking ‘bout, Beck,” you drawled, sipping more rum from your glass. Beckman’s charcoal gaze met yours over the rim of your drink, an expression of exasperation being worn on his features. “What’s that look for?” “You know exactly what it’s for,” Benn huffed, pulling a cigarette from the case he often carried with him, a lighter following suit as he lit up the end and took a deep inhale. You scrunch your nose as he blew the smoke in your face upon exhaling. “No, I don’t. Please, enlighten me,” you spoke, waving your hand to clear away the excess smoke from your face. “You’ve been staring at Shanks more often than not, lately,” Benn explained, directing his attention to his old friend, who was gladly dancing with a woman, smiling and twirling her with ease. He peered at you through the corner of his eye, seeing your glare being directed at Shanks and the bar goer. If Benn knew you wouldn’t punch him, he’d say he spotted a little green in your eye. “‘Specially when the guy starts dancing around while having a good time. Hell, even when he’s just sitting and drinking with us, you hardly look away. It’s getting pathetic at this point.” “Don’t you have women to charm, Beckmann?” You asked, trying to ignore how you managed to allow Ben to call you out on your behavior. Were you really that obvious?

“Don’t you have a move to make?” “Keep your nose out of my business,” you pouted, earning a full blown laugh from him. “I’d love to, really, I would, but you keep bringing it up during our late night chats.” “Come on, you know I’m drunk when I bitch at you!” “Not drunk enough to forget him, though, right?” Benn teased, pulling genuine amusement from your flustered reactions, your face painted red from embarrassment rather than the four drinks you’ve had within the last few hours. Which is why Benn Beckman, your dear friend, didn’t mention that the reason Shanks even began taking to dancing was because he had mentioned you had told him that you used to be a traveling dancer before you decided to ultimately settle in with the crew. He only told Shanks about it after overhearing a comment on how good your footwork was during a sparring session. No one could ever rip the tones of nostalgia that rang out from your voice whenever you spoke of all the performances you gave to those on the streets of many island streets. Which is another reason why Benn chose to not tell you that Shanks was approaching the table with a determined glimmer in his eyes. “Well, well, look at you two. I’m not interrupting a lovers’ spat, am I?” Shanks teased, moving to one side so he could drape his arm across your shoulders where you sat. He let out a light chuckle when you practically jumped three feet in the air.

“Fucking hell!” You screeched, glaring at your captain now. “We need to put a bell on you or something!” Shanks pulled his arm away to raise it in mock defense. “Never meant to scare ya!” He laughed. “It’s fine,”  you sighed, running a hand down your face, noting that Benn had slipped away, leaving you alone with the captain of both your crew and your personal fantasies. “Need anything, cap?” “Oh, nothing much, maybe a dance with you?” Shanks asked casually, making you blink in surprise. You began to take note of the atmosphere in the bar; softer music was fluttering through the air as voices quieted down, a few stray couples moving about the room and occupying the dancefloor when you stole a glance at it. To top it off, the man that’s been haunting your heart in the dead of night is now standing before you, asking you to indulge in your old passion with him. You felt like you were dreaming as you mustered an awkward smile and took his hand in yours. You’ve never felt so light as you swayed gently with Shanks, his hand in yours and your other arm nearly looped around his neck. You swore that he seemed to be as elated as you were with the turn of events. As the song went on, Shanks shifted his grip, moving so his arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Shanks couldn’t believe how dazzling you were while dancing, letting him to lead you about with ease, thankfully not noticing when he misstepped because he got too lost in your eyes. You were so relaxed, looked so content and felt so right in his grasp, he could hardly stand it. Alas, everything came to a close and he was left hungry for more. “Thanks for the dance,” Shank hummed, smiling warmly at you. “Mind if I get another sometime?”

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro and dancing are two words that don’t seem to mix well, much like oil and water. It never suited him, and he never held any interest. He had goals to pursue, a dream to chase, there was no time for something like dancing. Zoro felt like his world was flipped upside down when Luffy came back to the ship with you in tow. A bright smile painted Luffy’s features as he excitedly told the crew about how cool you were; how he saw you dancing while in the middle of town, practically manipulating fire to your will like his brother did, stars glittering in his eyes while you basked in the compliments with a bashful blush coloring your cheeks. It’s been a few weeks now, and Zoro, alongside the rest of the crew, have all seen your skills at work with your creative and fiery dances, the batons you twirled captivating them, the batons now doubling as your weapons with a little tune up from both Usopp and Franky. Zoro often found himself impressed by your skills, watching you perform to lively music happily composed on the spot by Brook, the sheer concentration you held earning a deep, unwavering respect from the swordsman. Eventually, Zoro began to pay closer attention to you/ First it was the way you shared different smiles with those around you; the bright ones that made your eyes crinkle shut as you laughed with Luffy, the calm, gentle grins you mimicked with Robin as you both spoke over tea on deck, the coy smirks you’d throw at Sanji when he swooned over you, and the sheepish smiles you’d give Brook when he complimented your practiced routines after finished sets, just to name a few. His favorites were the ones that you’d share with him, however. When Zoro’s around, he sees you visibly relax more, his eyes noting that you’d let him see you at your most natural, your attention on him feeling easy, feeling right, and the matching cast of expressions stilling a strange twist in his chest he got when you were with someone like Sanji. He even noticed you hanging around more when he was training, the attention feeling good. You brought in another sense of comforting routine, until a simple question hit him out of left field.

“Why don’t you let me teach you how I dance?” You asked one day, making Zoro shift his attention to you out of the corner of his eye. “I think you’d have fun.” That gave Zoro pause for a moment, the swordsman placing the weights he was using down to fully face you, his face painted in bewilderment. “Why would I do that?” “For fun?” “No. I don’t think so,” Zoro spoke, shaking his head and folding his arms over his chest. You pouted slightly before shrugging and getting to your feet. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just leave you with your shoddy footwork,” you quipped, a smirk playing on your lips while you made your way to the crow’s nest entrance. You knew you had him hooked. “Hey! What do you mean shoddy?!” Zoro barked, moving to catch up to you. You looked at him over your shoulder with a shrug. “Just saying, you might wanna focus on your footwork. The world’s future greatest swordsman needs to be kept up in top shape,” you spoke, brushing Zoro off, much to his annoyance. “I mean, I could teach you an effective way to improve, but you wouldn’t be interested.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “What I’m saying is that I could help you improve your footwork, but you won’t like how.” “If you think you can show me a better way to improve, I’d like to see it,” Zoro huffed, reaching out and grasping your shoulder with his heavy palm. You flashed him a smile, one that made his stomach feel strange. “Hope you like cardio.” In a flash, the two of you were on the deck of the Sunny, the warm rays of sunshine bathing over you two as you demonstrated the forms for your routine, gently guiding and correcting Zoro’s stances with a patience unlike he’s ever seen you carry over to others. He could swear you were somehow calmer than Robin as you took him through each step of the dance you had performed countless times, the attention feeling charged between you somehow. Each brush of your hand seemed to electrify his skin and make a strange ache in his chest appear while simultaneously leaving Zoro craving more of it. It was both revolting and addicting, the combating feelings that surged through him clashing like sharpened blades. “Excellent stance, Zoro, it’s perfect!” Your voice snapped him out of his strange daze, his tunnel vision focus returning swiftly. He grunted in response as you beamed at him. “It’s not that difficult, anyone could do this,” he huffed. You smirked at him once more. “Oh, really?” you spoke, placing your hands on your hips. “Let’s try doing all of this to tempo now.” “Yohoho!” Brook chortled, happily strolling over to both you and Zoro at the signal of your hand, violin perched on his shoulder and bow clutched in his boney phalanges. “From the top!” You were pleased to see Zoro struggling to copy your fluid movements, it was quite the sight!

Vinsmoke Sanji

Ever the romantic, Sanji always found the act of a romantic dance filling some part of his dreams among the usual thoughts of Nami and Robin and recipe ideas he’d love to try out to win their hearts. It was just in his very nature to try and be as charming as he could be after the rushes of excitement in his blood died down, throwing on a cool smile and spouting soft, flirtatious words at whatever beauty managed to capture his attention. You and Sanji both joined the crew around the same time that Luffy, Usopp, Zoro and Nami all arrived at, and subsequently nearly destroyed, the Baratie. You, bright eyed and utterly stunning, were a scrambling, stuttering mess of a waitress desperately trying to fulfil the expectations set upon you by Zeff, and frankly, you weren’t meeting his expectations. It was almost nostalgic looking back at those days and as he saw you now, Sanji couldn’t take his eyes off you. Your bright, outgoing smile captured his heart as he felt the familiar rush of joy flood his system. You’d grown so much over the time you both sailed with Luffy and the crew, and seeing the side effects of that progress was like looking directly at the sun; warm, brilliant and blinding. You were all supposed to be docking at another island, and according to Usopp, it looked like the place was populated and gearing up for a festival. Any suspicions were confirmed as the Thousand Sunny pulled into port, the locals welcoming them with open arms to share in the spirit of generosity, everyone truly wishing to spread the very rare goodwill. Luffy, as expected, was ecstatic and instantly reciprocated. Nightfall came, and the lights of the lanterns and street poles filled the cobblestone streets, tall tiki style torches illuminating the beach where the heart of the festival took place. Sanji was in heaven as he took in the sight of so many beautiful women clad in their beachwear, compliments pouring from his mouth like a waterfall. Standing at the sidelines of the celebration, you watched the blond chef flirt and woo numerous women, the sight leaving a bad taste in your mouth. You had been wanting to try and see if Sanji would be willing to share a dance with you, and you’d been building your courage up bit by bit throughout the day. You loved dancing, you always felt so free whenever Brook or Chopper or Usopp let you hang around and try out different moves with them, often ending up in a tangled pile of limbs and laughter. Watching him get so distracted by other women, however, you felt any confidence beginning to crumble. You shook your head, washing away your thoughts.

You took a deep breath before strutting into the fray, making your way to Usopp, who was happily telling his stretchy stories to an awed crowd of locals, the look of wonder filling their beings being endlessly amusing to you as you knew the truth and Usopp was a rather terrible liar in your opinion. You started laughing, your smile returning and catching the attention of the blond lovecook. Everything seemed to brighten for Sanji the moment his eyes grazed a glimpse of that smile you bore, the world and other women becoming a bit duller compared to you. His gaze never left your form as you floated about the party before your eyes met and you swiftly made your way to him. “Sanji!” you cheered, stepping in front of him and taking his hands in yours, soon tugging him to follow you towards the makeshift dance floor. “C’mon, dance with me!” Sanji felt his heart crawl into his throat as he wordlessly followed you, trying to keep his composure. Where you happily moved and twirled to the music provided, Sanji followed after in time, easily stepping into the mold set before him for the roadmap of your movements. He couldn’t say this didn’t graze his ideal of a beautiful, romance fueled swing or even a hot, tension filled tango, but he couldn’t say he didn’t fully enjoy this experience with you. The night wore on, and things were slowing down, the tempo of the music dropping as the crowd began to trickle back inland. Sanji had lost track of both time and you. He figured you must have wandered off after he closed his eyes for a moment too long, your figure being swept away in the crowd. He couldn’t find you on the beach, and when rudely questioning Zoro, he learned you had left to catch your breath further inland. Sanji wasted no time searching for you, looking up and down the cobblestone pathways and streets until he found you alone on a bench, looking up at the stars. You looked peaceful under the light of the moon, and once more Sanji was captivated. 

Moving closer, he cleared his throat, throwing on a cool smile as he approached you. You turned to look at him as soon as you heard the sound. “Hey.” “Hey, couldn’t find you back on the beach.” “Oh, sorry, I got a little overwhelmed. I wanted a bit of quiet,” you explained weakly. “Mind if I join you?” Sanji asked. You smiled weakly, leading him to come sit beside you on the bench. Sanji looked up at the stars above you both. “It’s a beautiful night.” “Yeah, I guess it is…” “Are you alright?” “Yeah, ‘M fine, just…” you sighed, trying to steady yourself. “You seemed like you were having fun, why’d you look for me?” “Because I wanted to make sure you were okay. You mean a lot to me, you know,” Sanji replied, his flirtatious mask falling in favor of a semi-serious exterior. “I’m fine, like I said, but I guess, I dunno, you looked like you were having more fun around those other women.” “I was having fun, but I still enjoy my time with you. You’re every bit as lovely as any of those other beauties, you know. You’re like an angel; warm, beautiful and sweet,” Sanji said, directing his gaze to you, his visible eye filled with warmth. It made you ache. “Not really...I couldn’t even ask you to dance like a normal person, I just sort of…dragged you away into it.” “I didn’t mind! I loved it,” Sanji exclaimed, placing a hand over one of yours. “Although, if you still wanted to ask, I wouldn’t be opposed.” “But there’s no music or-” “Hush. Listen closely.”

Silence swept over the two of you, the sounds of the sea and distance tunes of a slower song filling the air blanketing over you both, causing your face to warm. “Oh,” you spoke, face warming as your mind caught up to your racing heart. You awkwardly cleared your throat and looked up at Sanji, a shy smile on your face. “Uhm, would…would you like to dance with me, Sanji?” He certainly knew you didn’t need to answer with nothing more than a nod before pulling you close. Sanji swifty slotted you against him, one hand placing itself on your lower back to pull you closer whilst his other took your hand in his, your free palm resting itself on his shoulder as he slowly began to sway. You followed him perfectly, your eyes never leaving him as you felt a trance wash over you. Sanji was a man that breathed romance and longing, it came naturally to him, and the romantic dance he was sharing with you displayed this trait perfectly as you both became lost in one another.

Soul King Brook

You and Brook blended together perfectly; a dancer from the warm islands of the South Blue, a musician from the tides of the West Blue, it felt as though you both were destined to intercept one another in a beautiful courtship ever since you stepped foot on the Thousand Sunny. All Brook wishes for is that he had met you sixty years sooner, then he could’ve been the man he honestly felt you deserved, with flesh and muscle aiding in his capabilities to show his sheer adoration for you. The skeletal musician expressed as such to you, and you gleefully chased those thoughts away with honey sweet words, warm hands on his skull and a loving kiss to his teeth before shepherding him into a sweeping swing number that always melted his nonexistent heart. Brook always counted his lucky stars whenever he was able to see you dance; it was your trade accompanied by a pretty voice befitting a siren’s croon when you sang along to the melodies he spun. He felt so lucky your little musical family was more than happy to see you off as the crew set sail away from your home island, all of them cheering for you to write and live well alongside him and his crewmates. Another day was passing as Brook listened to your voice float gently beside the notes he worked from his violin, your eyes closed and hands resting just below your throat from the barrel you claimed as your perch. The skeletal musician couldn’t help but find himself wandering through the sound of your voice, his reverie only broken by a sharp, misplaced rub of his bow and slip of his finger, causing you to falter and look at him with wide eyes. You staggered a giggle before breaking out in laughter, Brook joining in soon after. “You’re losing yourself again, maestro,” you teased, getting up and taking a few short steps to stand before your lover. “It would seem so, my muse,” Brook replied, tucking his beloved violin and bow to his chest to free his other hand and lovingly brush the tips of his phalanges over your cheekbone. “But could you really blame this old pile of bones? Why, you’re singing so sweetly you could raise the dead! Yohoho!”

Brook felt a joyful warmth spread deep through the marrow when he saw you laugh and reach for him. He gave pause when you plucked his prized instrument from his arm and placed them where you previously sat, turning back to him with a glimmer in your eye. Brook’s slightly hunched posture, born from curiosity, instantly straightened when you held out your hand to him. “Well, can your dear muse have this dance with the dead?” you asked, earning yourself another laugh from Brook. “You hardly need to ask, dearest,” he replied, easily taking your much smaller hand in his own, both of you swiftly stepping closer and beginning to fall into step, Brook expertly guiding you like he’s nearly always done, the world feeling as though it was melting away until all that could paint its canvas being the colors of your love. You looked up at Brook’s face, eyes trailing over every crevice the bones revealed to you among the wild mane that he forever wore. You cracked a humored smile. “Hm? Now just what is going through your mind, lovely?” “Oh, just the first few times we tried dancing together,” you answered, a delighted titter leaving your frame as you were gracefully twirled and pulled back to Brook’s side. “We were both so clumsy, trying to learn how to place and balance ourselves!” “Yohoho! Indeed we were! I certainly wasn’t used to a small, young thing like yourself wanting to sway with me!” Brook chortled. “Always wanting to lead was also quite fun to counter,” you felt heat creep up your face as you looked away in embarrassment as your skeletal love pulled you ever closer to him, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “You were quite the fun little challenge, muse.”

You let out a squeal after his whisper ghosted over your ear, a sharp pinch to your thigh helping ground you both back into the moment. You barked out a laugh as you pushed Brook back, the dead man stumbling as he cackled at your reaction. He knew you didn’t mind, you hardly ever did. “You little sneak!” You laughed, looking up at brook with narrowed eyes and a sharp smile, voice holding no real bite. “How dare you toy with me! I’m just your vulnerable, little muse! Your sweet dancer, your beloved siren!” Brook let out another chortle as he bowed to you, taking your hand in his and bringing it close to his teeth. “That you are, my dear. All those things and so much more,” he cooed, affection dancing in his tone before you felt the chilled, smooth press of bone against the warmth of your knuckles. “I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive this smitten soul king.” You couldn’t stop the gentle expression that bloomed over your features, your heart fluttering like the graceful wings of a butterfly to match. “I could never stay too angry with a gentleman like you, I suppose,” you said, meeting your eyes to empty sockets. “Though, I would like you to make it up to me.” “And how may I do that, my dear?” “I think you know how, lovely,” you hummed, Brook letting out a soft ‘yohoho’ with your antics. He swiftly followed your thoughts, twirling you and sweeping you away in yet another dance, one that only you two could truly feel the music and vocals within your very souls.

First Son of the Sea Jinbe

The calm in your storm is how you would describe Jinbe. He always had a way of dragging you back down to Earth should your thundering thoughts ever send you into orbit, acting as your guide whenever you find yourself lost in the sea of a starless sky within your mind. Gentle, strong, comforting, warm, Jinbe was perhaps everything you could ever dream of having in a lover and more. It had to definitively be more given the added grace that Jinbe was attempting to carry in this awkward sway you both found yourselves in. Keyword: attempting. Deep in the night while the ship was docked and the others were on shore unwinding and enjoying themselves, you and the towering fishman were on deck, a dial emitting soft music over the dimly lit areas that populated the Thousand Sunny, the pair of you pressed close together and awkwardly trying to dance along to the romantic ambiance that you curated. Jinbe had one hand resting on your shoulder, the other carefully cradling the back of your head, your own hands resting on his much broader chest, the size difference between you two being terribly stark in this position. You never minded such a thing, you always saw just how much of a gentle giant your beloved could be, the way he carried himself and treated others being a tipping point that sent your heart overboard. Such a characteristic shone brighter than the sun with how carefully Jinbe touches you. You looked up into the beautiful purple eyes that decorated Jinbe’s features, his expression softening as he watched your growing smile glow in the soft lights around you both. Jinbe felt himself falling in love all over again whenever you look at him this way; like he had just hung your moon and stars, like he was the only person in the world, like he was all yours. And he was, and always would be. When you first brought up this little idea for a simple date for you two, Jinbe found himself unsure, as his life was dedicated to being that of a trained warrior, not a man meant to glide across a ballroom floor. Several times throughout the weeks at sea he had to remind himself that you would not be disappointed in him for failing to perfect a simple box step, you’d just look at him like you do now, beaming with delight that he simply put in the effort to try and learn a few basic steps. His heart was racing against his ribcage as he held your gaze, hoping you couldn’t feel it beneath your delicate fingertips. The potential of potentially embarrassing himself in front of you paled to the weight lying within his mind. 

The music shifted, so did Jinbe, trying to direct you as gracefully as he could, trying to hold that vision you held of him and had told him of so long ago. “You’re my rock, Jinbe,” you uttered softly into the night, your gaze fixed solidly on the ocean, eyes missing that light that had initially captivated the fishman. “You…make things feel okay. Like I can breathe even though I’m drowning.” “Do you often feel that way, little one?” “Yeah…But…” you take a breath, steadying yourself. “It’s different with you. You feel safe. Safer than the others. Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful, but…I don’t feel as…I don’t feel as connected to them as I do to you. You’re just different, in a good way.” Jinbe stared at you for a long while before you started speaking again. “You’re like the calm in my storm.” The night you told him that, he knew he felt the same. His own mind echoed for him to give until he could not offer anymore, demanding he scrounge up more and be the one to turn to, you included, but you never hesitated to offer what you could to him in return, and for ages now he only truly accepted your help, your aid, he always reached for you first, slowly taking the other hands extended to him by the other crew members. He relished in being a person you could rely on to bring you back to reality, and returning the favor, even in ways as small as gifting you his heart and sharing this dance with you made him feel warm. Yet it still did nothing for his nerves, even as he began to slip into smoother glides and sways to the music, leading you with his movements and practically making stars dance in your irises in sync with them. As the music began to fade, Jinbe found himself standing on the lawn of the Sunny, a contented you resting in his arms. You let out a pleased sigh as you moved your head to rest your cheek against the slightly exposed skin of his chest, resting just above the sun that marked his skin. “That was perfect, Jinbe,” you breathed, your voice carried away by the gentle wind and wrapping around his heart like a vice. Jinbe couldn’t back out, not after spending so much time living in his own head, replaying the many ways his question could be answered. He took a deep breath, garnering your attention once more as you stared up at him with a curious hum. “Thank you, my pearl. I also enjoyed our waltz,” he spoke softly, moving a hand to cup your cheek as he took a step back from you, the residual moonlight coupling with the dim glow of candle fires that still burned, bathing you in a glow Jinbe could only describe as bewitching. “However, I do feel the need to ask a favor of you.”

“What do you need, love? You can ask me anything.” Any more words you had died on your tongue as you witness Jinbe step back further, the man getting down on one knee to be eye level with you while plucking something from an inner pocket on his coat, the small box being a familiar sight you’ve only read about. Presenting his hand to you, box cradled in his massive palm, Jinbe takes another deep breath, his eyes staring deeply into the confines of your very being. “My pearl, would you do me the honor of allowing me to be by your side until the end of time?” Tears sprung to your eyes as you nodded, and Jinbe opened the box, revealing a simple ring with a pearl nestled beside two small rubies on a beautiful golden band. With a relieved, and overjoyed smile, he carefully slipped the ring on your finger and allowed you to pull him into a kiss, the mutual happiness rolling off the two of you in waves. Another dial was set, the music starting as Jinbe pulled you up into his grasp, your feet dangling over the tops of his own as he began to dance with you again, contended and delighted that he could forever be the calm in your storm and you could be the anchor in his sea.

[bbyjackie]

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒' 𝐆𝐅 — ♡

one piece social media + dating feat: shanks

》 i had to edit half of these photos to have red hair lol

♡ liked by d_mihawk, B.B_buGGY and 8.8k others

_ynln: this man is definitely 'wanted'

tagged: sh444nks

sh444nks: i know you're obsessed but gosh stop flirting with me 😒😒

↳ sh444nks: i have a girlfriend already geez 🙄

↳ _ynln: not with that attitude you won't 😐

↳ sh444nks: WAIT IM JOKING PLEASE 😭🙏

↳ benn__b: I hate you guys, you're literally a meter away from each other right now

YASXPP: Yo captain you're looking a little too fine right now 😍🫵

↳ luckyroux.x: For real Yn gotta start gatekeeping these photos 🤤

↳ _ynln: can u guys stop trying to steal my man 🤨

↳ YASXPP: He was our captain before he became your boyfriend, get in line (liked by luckyroux.x, sh444nks)

♡ liked by luckyroux.x, _ynln and 10.3k others

sh444nks: gf taught me abt angel numbers, that's why my user is now 4️⃣4️⃣4️⃣

tagged: _ynln

_ynln: the yn effect (liked by benn__b, luckyroux.x)

↳ sh444nks: my angel 😇😇

↳ _ynln: nah stop 😔💗

B.B_buGGY: Simp

↳ sh444nks: mad you don't get any huh 🥱

↳ B.B_buGGY: SHUT UP SHANKS I DO GET SOME

↳ sh444nks: get some skincare that's what u rlly need 😭

↳ sh444nks: also what the hell is wrong with your user

↳ B.B_buGGY: MY SKIN IS BEAUTIFUL

↳ B.B_buGGY: I was drunk

YASXPP: Damn captain you're not gonna post me? 😩😩

♡ liked by sh444nks, benn__b and 6.1k others

_ynln: im gonna miss this little sucker 💓

sh444nks: he’s so annoying though

↳ _ynln: shanks you literally have no say, luffy is literally a mini you 🤨🤨

↳ sh444nks: this is so offensive my love 😔

sh444nks: nah this isn't even cool, luffy stole my girl

↳ d_mihawk: He just has more game than you. (liked by YASXPP, luckyroux.x, _ynln)

↳ YASXPP: YOOO WTF AHAHAHAH

↳ luckyroux.x: LMFAOOO 😭😭

↳ sh444nks: MIHAWK WTF BRO

benn_b: Nah cause Luffy had us nervous all the time, little shit

↳ _ynln: HES SOO CUTE THO!!

↳ sh444nks: what about me yn!

↳ _ynln: no

♡ liked by benn_b, YASXPP and 9.5k others

_ynln: happy birthday my ancient artefact 🎉

tagged: sh444nks

sh444nks: i love you but damn im not THAT old 😭😭

↳ _ynln: love u 2!

B.B_buGGY: Break up

↳ sh444nks: ayo?!!

YASXPP: ANCIENT ARTEFACT NAHH AHAHAH

↳ luckyroux.x: STRAIGHT VIOLATION

d_mihawk: Happy birthday you drunk slop

↳ sh444nks: knew you loved me mihawk 🥺🥺💓

↳ d_mihawk: die

[merbear25]

Hello!! Can you do asking Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile who’s the prettiest girl in the world??

Hey, hello! So, I feel like this question can be interpreted in two ways: you wanting to be called a pretty girl, and you asking them like they’re a puppy… I came at it from the latter. Hope you like what I’ve written for you.💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons, some fluff, smidge of humor

Who’s the prettiest girl? (Cross Guild)

Buggy

His face turned tomato red both from embarrassment and flattery.

The way his breath caught in his throat made him sound like a snorting bulldog.

The audacity of it all! He was a grown man, an intimidating man, an emperor!

His face twisted into a pout the longer you looked at him with absolutely no malice or ill intentions in your presence—just adoration for him.

Sinking into his armchair, he grumbled a bit. “I am…” he murmured.

“Hm? What was that?” You teased.

“I am!” He huffed loudly.

You threw your arms around him and gave him the cuddle he was secretly after upon confessing that he was, indeed, the prettiest girl.

Mihawk

He blinked at you.

When he took a bit longer to respond than you’d anticipated, you felt like shrinking into your skin as the awkwardness you were creating dawned on you.

“You are,” he said flatly.

Your lips quivered a bit and you let out a soft, “Aww.”

When you inched closer, he could tell what you wanted from that sweet look upon your face. 

He opened his arms and gave you that hug you clearly wanted.

As he rubbed your back gingerly, you blurted, “I am the prettiest!”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

Crocodile

His posture tensed as your question fell on his ears. 

He looked up at you, annoyance written all over his scarred face. His tongue flicked at his cigar.

“Hope this isn’t your way of being cute.” There was a faint huff of amusement in the ridiculousness of your question.

Okay, maybe you caught him in a bad mood…well, worse than usual.

You’d always been a bit of a wild card in your own right, one to play with fire. He both loved and despised that about you.

An exasperated sigh left him when he realized you weren’t going to let it go. “Me.”

That was the best you were ever going to get out of him, so you gladly took it as a win.

[iloveseraphims]

Feelings Left Unreciprocated

Child!Shanks x ChildFem!Reader ( x Child!Buggy)

!! Words Count 280 !!

"Let’s set sail together! We’ll build a great crew…A-and when we grow up let’s get married!" Shanks blurted out his confession, clenching his fists in a flustered panic.

"No way! I’ve already chosen the man I’ll marry when I grow up" You stood in front of him with your arms crossed and brows furrowed. You were always a testy, tomboyish girl. Buggy and Shanks would often tease you for it, but they’d always end up with a good beating. Still Shanks was completely smitten with everything about you.

"W-WHAT MAN!? WHO?! BUGGY?!" Shanks shouted, completely shaken and unable to process your words. His heart was pounding wildly, whether from the confession or fear, he couldn’t tell and his sweaty palms clenched even tighter.

"I’m going to marry Rayleigh when I grow up." you said, lifting your nose proudly.

"Rayleigh!? Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n! He’s way older than you!"

"I don’t care! Rayleigh’s a true gentleman! He knows how to treat a woman-"

"A woman? You’re a girl! And if you acted more like a girl, maybe I’d treat you like a gentleman too—AHH!" Before Shanks could even finish, your fist landed squarely on his face, sending him flat on his back. "Idiot! I am acting like a girl already!" you shouted, fuming with rage at his words. Shanks clutched his punched cheek, yell out from the ground. "Girls don’t punch like ox!"

"Ox!? You’re the ox, you turkey haired moron!" you yelled as you started kicking the lying on the ground Shanks.

Gaban and Buggy were silently watching Shanks get beaten from a distance. Gaban grinned as he watched Buggy slowly tuck the flower he was holding into his pocket.

[luxthestrange]

OP Incorrect quotes#69 Down BAD-

Shanks*Hugging the two from behind, his face between their shoulders* I love just the way you are bad and bitter~

Buggy & Idol!Y/n*Both look at him, surprised* Thanks?...

Shanks*Suprised he didn't get insulted and gives the two a proud smile with that old lover boy eyelashes fluttering*

Buggy*Blushes and grumbles*...

Idol!Y/n*Eye brow twitch and punches him with the back of fist, sending him flying*...THAT'S for kissing us

There is a hole in the wall, and Shank with a heart eyes and his stupid grin winks at them, finger gunning them

Shanks: It ain't easy to stop lovin' ya babies~

Part 6 of:

[shegetsburned]

how they like to kiss you w. one piece men ˚ 𐙚 ⋆.

.sfw.

❥ they kiss you like.. a hungry beast. hands caressing your neck or tracing your jaw as they kiss you nuts. he needs to touch you - his hands on your bare skin, lips nibbling, biting, moaning into yours, while heavily breathing after. a fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, portgas d. ace, trafalgar law, eustass kid, killer, paulie, sir crocodile, smoker, akagami no shanks, buggy the clown, donquixote doflamingo, king, kaku, lucci, silvers rayleigh

❥ they kiss you like.. a sloppy first-timer. weak, sweaty kisses because it’s unbearably hot. it’s a greedy and messy kiss. it’s mostly tongue when he tries to push his way between your lips, firmly gripping the back of your head. a string of saliva connects your lips when you finally part.

monkey d. luffy, usopp, portgas d. ace, eustass kid, akagami no shanks, buggy the clown, donquixote doflamingo, paulie

❥ they kiss you like.. you’re a delicate flower that needs meticulous care. it’s slow. tracing your lips with a fingertip until he can’t resist any longer, tilting your chin towards him for a kiss. his thumb trailing down to your jawbone. you feel his soft touch against your skin, ever so slightly grazing it with tenderness and affection.

sanji, sabo, killer, sir crocodile, benn beckman, dracule mihawk, koza, marco, corazon

❥ they kiss you like.. a secret that’s making its way to your ears. a curious and uncertain soft kiss that turns into a fever. a gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion. a kiss so ardent, so perfect - that after you part, neither one of you can open your eyes for a few moments afterwards.

roronoa zoro, sanji, usopp, sabo, iceburg, akagami no shanks, benn beckman, koza, king, kaku, marco, corazon

❥ they kiss you like.. you’ll forget how he tastes. quick pecks here and there, finishing on the mouth. every time he leaves or comes back you’re greeted with one warm kiss. you can’t possibly escape it. he’ll tilt your head up towards him to steal one or distract you from whatever you’re doing so he can get one.

sanji, usopp, franky, trafalgar law, portgas d. ace, killer, smoker, akagami no shanks, yasopp, koza, lucci, silvers rayleigh

© shegetsburned 2024 Please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own

[short-honey-badger]

Just wondering how you think the Dilfs of one piece (Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy, Crocodile, etc) would react to thier s/o being extremely dense? Like in a "I love you but your an idiot" kinda way.

This was fun, so I really hope I did your ask justice! ❤️❤️

Pairings! Mihawk x reader, Shanks x reader, Buggy x reader, Crocodile x reader, Doflamingo x Reader, Marco x reader, and Smoker x reader

MIHAWK is a little annoyed at first when he finds that you've completely reorganized his bookshelf by how much you like the covers. He sighs in exasperation, but you look so happy with how the bookshelf now looks that he can't find it in himself to be too upset.

“Oh, to understand the inner workings of your mind, my Darling.”

SHANKS is always excited to wake up and see what you're going to surprise him with next. You enjoy the simple things in life, so it always overjoys him when you appear by his side with a megawatt smile and a pretty shell or sand dollar.

“Whatcha got there, baby? Gonna add it to the others you're got?”

You're a clumsy fuck and BUGGY sometimes wonders why he puts up with you. Especially when you come stumbling into the tent on Big Top, trip over the only rope in the floor, catch yourself on his pants and then down you go. Buggy curses loudly when his crew catches sight of his heart print boxers.

“You better be glad that I fucking love you, little clown.”

It's more than once that the devil fruit user has to pull you away from the banana gators in the feeding area under the casino. It pisses him off that you keep putting yourself in danger, but you always grin and hold tight to CROCODILE, telling him that you always know that he'll save you every time.

“I'm no hero, sweetheart. Quiet trying my patience.”

DOFLAMINGO loves that you are ignorant of who he really is. He is your white knight. The prince comes to save the princess locked away in her lonely tower. You hold him close after a long day, his head pressed to your chest.

“Mhmm. Such a sweet doll. And all mine, too.”

You sit in MARCO'S office, a cute frown on your face as you watch your lover unravel some gauze and then carefully wrap it around the cleaned cut on your leg. The wound is recent, from defending the Moby Dick from rival pirates, an unnecessary risk. He sighs once he is finished and kisses right above the wrap.

“I wish you'd be more careful, my love.”

SMOKER definitely disagrees with your decision to become a pirate. He thought it a dumb ass decision, but he loved you and had vowed to support you in every way he could. However, he has to draw the line when you show up on his ship and demand that he make your bounty higher.

“What? No, I don't need someone I can't fight off coming for you!”

[gay-dorito-dust]

One piece reacts to you holding their hand when in need of comfort/reminder that they are there.

Zoro doesn’t flinch when you hold his hand, it’s happened more then once, he has yet to see you do similar with the rest of the crew, but he wasn’t about to say anything about how you always seem to come to him for comfort and security.

He wasn’t complaining as it only meant he was doing his job, growing stronger and cementing himself as someone strong enough, brave enough for others to find solace within. Zoro took pride in the work he had put in himself to get where he was now, he was even proud that you even thought of him as a source of comfort in the first place, and feeling no fear when you reached for his calloused hand that wasn’t perched upon the hilts of his swords.

He caresses his thumb against the back of your hand in a way to reassure you that nothing would happen when under his protection, nothing wouldn't dare harm a hair on your head when his reflexes were seemingly faster then light on most occasions, he had made himself an vow to himself to keep being your safe haven and your source of comfort.

Buggy almost jolts out of his skin when he feels you hold his hand out of the blue. He’s never known someone to touch him out of their own free will, not unless it was to beat him up at least, so feeling you grab his hand on instinct made him tense up before realising why you did what you did.

You were in search of something to ground yourself to and ironically he was the closet thing you could get your hands on, something to keep you steady and he was the one you automatically deemed safe enough to hold onto, at least just until this feeling of uncertainty passes you by.

Buggy would feel an sense of pride that out of everyone you could've possibly have picked from, you had chosen him to be your sense of normality and someone you associated with saftey and security, not that Buggy was complaining -not at all- as it only gave him an sense of purpose and he wasn't about to take your trust in him for granted.

He even puffs out his chest like a cocky bird and held your hand even tighter, and maybe even leaving you with it when he had some stuff to do, smiling ever so slightly when he felt you squeeze it and acting as though there isn't a warmth within his chest. Buggy is just happy that he could be useful and not a punching bag for once and he has you to thank.

Ace grips your hand immediately and squeezes it multiple times to reassure you that he was there, that he was real and he wasn’t going to let anything get to you. If anything he grips your hand with equal strength to show you that he held you in the same regard, that while he is your source of comfort you were just as much his source of comfort.

He felt as though he was the luckiest man alive to be chosen as then one person you go to when facing uncertainty and were at a geuine loss, feeling as though he wasn't worth your trust and companionship, thining that there were more better suiting people instead of him. Yet here you were proven his innermost thoughts wrong, holding his hand as though you'd be lost if you were to ever let go, which were things that only warmed Ace's heart tenfold.

His smile couldn't have been more wider then it ever had when your holding his hand as though it held all the awnsers you saught after, unafraid of the flames that he could easily conjure with a single snap of his fingers, treating it as though it was something sacred and only something you entrusted him to bear witness to it.

Ace felt as though he was within a picture perfect dream, not believing that this was reality until he felt the warmth of your palm push agaisnt his own, the twitch of your fingers and how you seemed to need to reassure yourself that he was real. At least he wasn't alone in such a feeling, feeling compelled to keep holding your hand if it meant being each others constant reminder that this was your shared reality, for he wouldn't about to let you wander this life alone in the dark when he could easily light thr way for you instead.

[thetrasha]

Request:

"hi tasha, may i request you one where fem!reader holds his arm when she gets scared and he starts feeling funny and seeking her touch? thought about Law, Zoro, Usopp and Buggy"

((Sorry for posting this one again. I fear the original might have broken my tumblr 🤡 This was Schrödinger's post - I couldn't even edit it because tumblr said it was a draft and post at the same time bye))

Of course you may, anon ╰(*°▽°*)╯ I loved this request so much and the character selection was also amazing!! My first Usopp request LOL I hope you enjoy this silly scenario 🫡Take care and happy reading~

The Awkward Lovers Tango

feat. LAW, ZORO, USOPP, BUGGY

LAW

“It’s just a splinter.”

“Law!”, you whined, almost begging him, “Make it quick!”

“Okay. Breathe in… and out…”

You mimicked his calm breathing, loudly breathing in through your nose and exhaling via your mouth. Your chests rose in tandem, watching each other closely.

Your eyes followed his gloved hand as it calmly rested upon your shoulder. He felt you tense up under his light touch as your eyes fluttered close in nervousness, anticipating a sting that never came. his hand calmly moving towards your shoulder.

Your eyes slowly opened up to reveal the neutral face of your captain.

“In… and out… repeat after me.” He breathed in loudly, clutching a pair of tweezers behind his back. The hand that rested on your shoulder squeezed you reassuringly, silently encouraging you to follow his lead.

“In and out… in and out… in and o-OUCH!”

Your state of tranquil was immediately cut short, eyes and hands snapping up.

“…All done.”, he said, somehow strained.

Your eyes trailed after his and landed right on your own... other hand.

You didn’t even realise that you were basically crushing his arm beneath your grip, clinging to him like he was going to disappear at any moment. A meek exhale escape your lips, but you couldn’t even focus on the sensation because Law held intense eye contact with you.

You ripped your hand away from him as you’d been burnt, causing your captain to frown in disapproval –

– It might have sounded crazy… but he had to clear his throat to regain his composure in front of you. For some reason, your touch involuntarily caused a physical reaction… goosebumps. Although his skin should have been hot to the touch due to the sheer strength you put into your grip, ice cold tingles ran up and down his entire arm. It felt weird, especially his quickened heartbeat. Usually, that would be cause for concern, but Law wasn’t stupid.

You could probably see how much his pupils dilated at the mere sight of you since he was so horrendously attracted to you.

“Stand up.”, he ordered curtly, attempting to sound cold to hide his feelings. This was just another obstacle – this ‘crush’ would pass. Yeah, it has persisted for about nine months now, but that was… totally normal.

You obliged immediately, smiling at him when he handed you a plaster.

Law rolled his eyes when you asked him to put it on you instead. He wanted to make it seem like he was deeply annoyed by your request, even though, deep down, he was overjoyed.

If he could pretend well enough, this would have been a romantic moment instead – the exact second where your hands would touch his for the first time. In his mind, the gloves didn’t even exist. It was just your warm hand pressed against his. The pads of your fingers were so soft, much different from his calloused ones. Your fingers were long and feminine, effortlessly mirroring your elegance. You were such a beauty and every part of you truly was a work of art.

If only this wasn’t some play pretend.

“Are we done now?”, Law grunted.

“Yes, Captain! Thanks.”

“…Get back to work.”, he sighed.

And watched longingly as you left the med bay, eyes following your every move.

ZORO

“You had a nice nap, Zoro?” The swordsman only grunted in reply as you were making your way towards the dining room for dinner. You’d woken up the First Mate because he’d really fallen asleep next to you – something you were both unfamiliar with – and then accompanied each other on your short walk towards the room that was already smelling like a divine feast.

Just before you could ask another question, Luffy zoomed right past you, his rubber arms snapping forward like a whip; he grabbed the doorframe leading into the dining area and laughed as he screamed for Sanji to hurry up.

You were so surprised if not frightened by the wind that’d blown past you that you held onto Zoro’s arm in search of silent protection.

“You know… that actually hurts.”, Zoro commented in an almost bored tone, watching you with absolutely disinterest as you raised a hand to your chest. You were so shaken that you started panting, not even realising that your source of fright was probably sitting at the table with a cheeky giggle.

Your eyes zeroed in on Zoro who almost lifted you off the ground as soon as he raised the arm you clung to, looking at you with an arrogant smirk. You blinked before slowly letting go of him, finger by finger. You slumped in on yourself, knowing this is what this man had been waiting for; the same man you’ve reprimanded many times for trying to save you in battle… as if he was defending some fair maiden’s honour.

Zoro was no knight in shining armour and you were no damsel in distress; that’s what you’ve always told him. And he got irrationally irritated at your stubbornness… even though you knew that he was the most stubborn man there is. It was an insult to have that personality trait associated with you when he was right there!

“No wonder you keep breaking our training equipment. You’ve got a crazy grip, woman.”

“Zoro!”

He raised his arms in mock apology, chuckling down at you.

Twice. You’d broken one of his training swords twice. And he was never going to let you live it down! You groaned before you playfully balled your hands into fists. You approached him before you started punching his chest repeatedly, whining loudly because you couldn’t actually hurt him. Your heart wouldn’t allow it.

And neither would his. That sudden burst of euphoria that engulfed him should have been a pretty good indicator to pay Chopper a visit, but to be fair… Zoro’s always felt pretty much invincible next to you. You were a fantastic pirate and a respectable sword-wielder, even if you lose your footing quite easily… And since he always keeps an eye out for you on the battlefield, he’s right there to assist you with his own strength while you’re trying to correct your mistake.

Luckily for the both of you, your rivalry was playful and not to be taken seriously.

It’s just why he sought you out more than others – plus, it didn’t blow his cover. The usually so confident Zoro was reduced to mere mush next to you.

He admired you greatly, mainly for your sweetness. He was perplexed that someone so skilled could be so adorable, but before that thought could fully register within it, it had already festered.

…Zoro had fallen in love with you.

Perhaps that’s why it was so easy to tease you by grabbing your fists mid-air and staring down at you with an intense that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. You’d immediately know that he wanted y-

“WHY ARE YOU GUYS ACTING LIKE A COUPLE?!”, Sanji shouted with fire in his eyes, already stretching his legs to kick Zoro away from you, “(Y/N)-swan is too good for YOU! She’s a delicate flower who wouldn’t be satisfied with a BRUTE, someone who wouldn’t even know romance when it hit him square in the face. I’m the only one who-”

Zoro, meanwhile, rolled his sleeves up with gritted teeth.

USOPP

“Careful! It has –“

“AH!”

“–… recoil.”

Your hand instinctively wrapped itself around his forearm as you stumbled backwards. He was unsteady on his feet due to your hard grip and he clumsily crashed into you when you pulled him in.

So… the weapon Usopp came up with for you wasn’t foolproof.

You started apologising profusely for messing up – especially since he’s taken up this project un-prompted. He just wanted to help you out and further your personal development and indulge in your desire to help the crew during battle… Usopp was so sweet and you couldn’t even wait until he’d fully explained himself. Gosh! What if this had been like the contraption he invented for Nami?! You could have electrocuted the both of you!

“Ahaha, it’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t worry! This baby can take a proper beating! I’ve designed it so it can withstand up to two hund-”

Usopp’s voice became quieter and quieter before he could explain the gadget he came up with for your convenience. He trailed off, his dark brown hues suddenly hyper-aware of your hand that still gingerly held onto him.

D-don’t get him wrong!

It’s not like he didn’t like it. It was just… surprising. Pleasantly surprising, of course!

It’s just that you were so pretty and funny and kind… and you always took care of him and read his emotions effortlessly, always knowing what to say or do to cheer him up, but he was just Usopp instead of a brave warrior of the sea, so… there was no chance in the world that you’d ever like him like that.

You were more accomplished even though you joined the crew later than he did, you probably didn’t even notice that you were touching him.

He shouldn’t be so happy that you were so warm and smelled so nice at all. You were just as close to all the other men, it was silly trying to interpret anything else into your actions, even if, good God, he wanted nothing more than to lean in an-

“Usopp?”, you asked, squeezing his arm gently.

“T-the great Captain Usopp totally didn’t think about weird things. Why are you asking me about- wait.”

“Usopp…”, you laughed, suddenly pulling him in.

He could just squeal in surprise before his brain initiated meltdown protocol when you held him flush against you, giggling at his stupefied demeanour. He was completely stumped, mouth wide open without any words coming out. Some lone sounds managed to escape, but everything was unintelligible.

“Thank you so much for caring about me, Usopp.”, you concluded kindly, smiling at him one last time before you tested your new weapon again…

But Usopp just stood there, frozen in place.

BUGGY

“Showtime, (Y/N).”

“WAH!”

Fireworks went off right next to you as Buggy dragged you towards the crowd who was waiting for a fun circus performance. Today, you were here to announce, alongside Buggy, who was overseeing everything with under strict scrutiny, every act. You were wearing a glittery costume that somehow matched the clown’s essence.

The sudden explosions did scare you so bad that you could just stare at the people with wide eyes. Your arm was curled around Buggy’s… and as soon as it registered to you that you were carelessly touching your captain – the very same that was expecting you to do your job – you let go with a face that felt like it was on fire.

You laughed sheepishly, waving at the crowd who cheered… with mild interest.

Before you could step away from Buggy, though, his hand grasped yours.

Subtly, you tried to take a glance at him as the acrobats were getting ready right behind you, but the Star Clown refused to look at you. And… his face was crimson red.

He couldn’t believe it. Really, him? You were trying to shield yourself from trouble by turning to… him? Was it April Fools? Some sort of joke? Surely, you didn’t see a reliable man in your captain. Buggy knew that he looked grotesque – even when he wasn’t dazzling in his costume, glittery makeup and signature arrogance. Most people didn’t even think that he was capable of piracy if they didn’t know him. He was very much aware of that fact that he looked like a pathetic loser. A loser who, certainly, found his way to success, but a fraud nonetheless.

It was funny how the crowd liked you more than the ringleader himself – not just because you were easy on the eyes, but mostly because you didn’t have the same bad attitude as your captain… – which is exactly why he changed your job from performer to announcer. You were the showstopper this pathetic cabaret needed. And… he liked seeing you in the spotlight, preferably right next to him.

Of course, your own Captain had to fall for you – and was thus fixated on drilling it into people’s head that you were taken. Well, maybe not taken. But claimed. Yes, that’s it… Buggy was simply trying to send a message before he could actually muster up enough courage to confess his feelings to you. So far, nothing worked. Not even pure vodka shots would make him sing, his throat always dried up around you.

You were so bright, an actual star. So hopeful and essential to life. You were a vital part of his life ever since you’d joined, but he didn’t think that he’d have to suppress a purr at your touch. Was he a damn cat?! No, he was a pirate captain! A dangerous one! One who’s soon defeat-

You squeezed his hand at the crowd’s roar, dragging him with you to get out of the performer’s way. Buggy blushed even worse, somehow thinking that you could… read his mind… how... embarrassing...