zoro tucking sanji's hair behind his ear am I right
Pros and Cons │OPLA! Sanji x f! reader
A/N: Okay, this is a little (lmao) something that I came up with during a very serious writer's block. I'm trying to finish Wooden Swords, and I have a few other ideas for Shanks and Sanji fics, but let me tell you, they're hard to put into words. Also, this was inspired by the "Friends" episode: "The One with the List." Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this. And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
Summary: You don't believe in Sanji's feelings toward you, so he makes it his mission to prove them to you.
Word Count: 6.2K
Warnings: English isn't my first language; basically angst with a happy ending; the reader is insecure and hurt; some swear words; crying; pet names (dear, darling, loverboy).
Love. That's what Sanji believed was really happening between you and him.
It was no secret to anyone that the two of you were very close, but you firmly insisted that you were just friends. Sure, you spent almost every single minute of the day together, leaving each other only when completely necessary. You shared more hugs than with anyone else in the crew. You would hold hands for no reason other than to be close, and you would exchange kisses on the forehead and cheeks without a second thought.
Yet, you acted like nothing exceptional was happening, and whenever someone would point out your closeness, you'd just laugh and deny everything, whether it was a comment from a stranger or a friend.
You enjoyed every single second in Sanji's company, but there was one thing keeping you from confessing to him. It was a memory of a man who was once a close friend of yours. And even though it happened all that time ago, you still couldn't forget how he treated and humiliated you just because you fell in love with him. What he did and said that day would probably stay with you forever. And even though you trusted Sanji like nobody else, you couldn't risk him treating you the same way, because this time it would destroy you completely.
But Sanji didn't have such a thing. And one day he just happened to take a step further in your relationship, too smitten with you to keep to himself any longer. Only, it didn't turn out how he thought it would, and it left him in utter confusion…
You were both in the kitchen, as usual. Sanji, as the only cook on the ship, had to spend the majority of his time in there, and you, who would do anything to keep him company, decided to be his kitchen help. It became a habit of yours, to the point that he rarely had to tell you what to do. You worked together perfectly, understanding each other without saying a single word.
Cooking with Sanji was always the best part of your day. There was always something happening when you were together. The kitchen was always filled with laughter when the two of you were inside. And on that particular evening, it wasn't any different.
You were right in the middle of cutting carrots for Sanji's stew when he said something that led you to a fit of laughter once again.
"Stop it." You said, barely able to catch your breath. "My tummy hurts." You added, putting the knife down, as you tried to control your laughter.
"It wasn't even that funny." Sanji teased you, looking at you with one eyebrow raised.
"Shut up." You sighed, finally calming down a little. "You know exactly what you're doing." You added, wiping the tears from your face.
"And what would that be?" He asked, grinning.
You didn't say anything. You only shook your head with a smile, getting back to the carrots laying in front of you. Sanji chuckled quietly to himself at your behavior. He did know what you meant, but being the tease he was, he would never admit it. He was just about to make another comment that would, for sure, make you laugh again when he heard you hiss in pain. His head snapped in your direction immediately.
"Ouch." You groaned, snatching your hand away from the cutting board.
The knife slid down your finger, and blood started dripping from the cut almost instantly.
"Get it under water." Sanji ordered, turning on the tap.
You obeyed without a word, sighing in relief once your finger was under the cold stream. In the meantime, Sanji grabbed the first-aid kit from the cupboard and came up to you.
"How many times do I have to tell you to focus on what you're doing instead of focusing on me?" He asked mockingly, gently taking your hand in his so he could have a closer look at your wound.
"Excuse me?" You gasped, turning away from the counter so you could fully face him. "If anything, this is your fault."
"How is this my fault?" He carefully cleaned up your cut and reached for the band-aid.
"If you didn't make me laugh so hard, I would've been calm and focused." You explained. "You're the one that distracts me from my work."
"Only because you're letting me." He smiled. "Does it hurt?" He asked, still holding your hand in the air, even though the band-aid was already secured on your finger.
"A little." You admitted, nodding.
He brought your hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on your covered wound.
"How about now?"
"A little less." You smiled sheepishly, your heart suddenly speeding up at his gesture.
He lowered your hand, but instead of letting go, he intertwined your fingers with his. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at you with narrowed eyes as if he was thinking deeply about something. You were quiet, unable to move even an inch, feeling your cheeks getting red under his stare.
He moved his other hand to your cheek and took a small step closer. You saw him lean in as his eyes fluttered to your lips for a brief second.
At first, you wanted to meet him halfway, but once you caught yourself leaning closer as well, you took a rapid step back, making Sanji's hand drop from your face and his fingers slip away from yours.
"I can't." You said shortly.
"What?" He asked, surprised, not expecting you to react this way.
"I'm sorry." You sighed, passing him.
You wanted to leave the kitchen as fast as possible, but a gentle grip on your wrist stopped you from walking away.
"Hey, no…" Sanji turned you around. "I was…" He tried to explain himself, but you interrupted him.
"I know what you were trying to do." You almost whispered. "But I just…" You added, looking to the side, so he wouldn't see the tears that appeared in your eyes. "I just can't. I'm sorry." You repeated yourself, freeing your wrist from him.
You started making your way toward the door as Sanji dropped his hands to his sides, taken aback by your behavior.
Before you reached the door, it opened, and Nami walked in.
"Hey, are you…" She stopped mid-sentence as you passed her without a word, leaving the kitchen and confused Sanji behind. "What happened?" She asked.
"I have no idea." He admitted. "But you'll have to tell the others that dinner is going to take me longer to make today."
Sanji spent the entire time of making dinner wondering what on earth happened. He knew he had no right to expect anything from you, but he genuinely thought that there was something more to your friendship. Something that could maybe turn into a serious, romantic relationship.
He was worried and totally lost in thought the entire time he was making dinner. But it got even worse when you didn't come to eat with the others. He could take a hint. He knew you needed some time to yourself, but not seeing you by the table in your usual spot made his heart ache.
He was sitting in his own seat, staring at your full plate, still lying there untouched, as everybody else was eating. He had his spoon in his hand, but he did not bring it to his lips even once.
"Okay, what the hell is going on?" Nami asked, frustrated, looking back and forth from Sanji to your empty seat.
She was observing the cook from the moment they sat at the table, and there was definitely something wrong. She wasn't stupid. You wouldn't skip dinner unless you had a very good reason to.
"I'll be right back." Sanji informed his friends, standing up.
He grabbed your plate and his own and left the kitchen without saying another word. He went to your room first, but when he didn't find you there, he turned around and went to the upper deck.
You were sitting on the bench, your knees under your chin, as you stared ahead, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You seemed deep in thought, probably sharing Sanji's worry.
"Hey." He said carefully, coming closer.
"Oh, hey." You turned your head at the sound of his voice.
"I brought you dinner."
"I'm not hungry."
"You have to eat something." He sighed, handing the plate out to you. "Please…"
"Thank you." You nodded quietly, taking the plate from him.
"May I join you?" He asked, gripping his own bowl with both hands, not really knowing what else to do.
"Of course." You agreed, moving to the side so he could sit down next to you.
There was silence between you for the next few minutes. You could feel him looking at you, but you decided to focus on your plate instead. You had no appetite, but you took a few bites to not hurt his feelings even more.
Because you were sure that's what you did before. He was your whole world, and you treated him like he meant nothing to you. He must've been hurt.
But the whole situation was really hard for you, too. You didn't want to react the way you did, but what happened happened, and you, unfortunately, couldn't turn back time. You also didn't want to talk and explain yourself to Sanji, but you knew he would bring it up sooner or later.
And you weren't wrong.
"Listen…" He started, putting his bowl to the side. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I never should've done that without asking you for permission first." He continued, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward slightly.
You didn't say anything. You kept your head down, digging into the stew with the spoon. You could see him in the corner of your eyes, fiddling with his fingers.
"But I do have to admit that you surprised me." He said gently, catching your attention.
You gave him a quick glance and then returned to your previous activity, still silent.
"I thought that there was something between us. Something other than friendship." He admitted, and your heart instantly sped up at his words, even if you didn't want it to. "I really like you, and I thought you felt the same way. I kept to myself for too long, and when I looked at you today, I just had to do something. But…" He took a deep breath. "I understand if you don't see me like this. I must've misunderstood your behavior toward me, and I not only made a fool of myself, but I also made you uncomfortable, and for that, I'm truly sorry." He confessed, throwing all his feelings into the light.
"You didn't." You said quietly, finally turning to look at him.
"You didn't misunderstand my behavior." You explained, also putting your bowl to the side. "You mean the world to me, and believe me, I would love nothing more than to be with you." You smiled sadly, your eyes glossy. "But I can't."
"Why not?" Sanji asked, his voice almost breaking.
He wasn't imagining things. You really did feel something for him. But what did it matter if you didn't want to be with him? He understood completely nothing.
"It's not you." You assured him. "You're perfect in every way. It's just… There's something I never told you about, and this thing is the reason why I'm afraid to commit to you." You tried to blink the tears away.
He cautiously reached for your hand, but when you didn't move away or tell him to stop, he intertwined your fingers with his.
"You know you can tell me anything. I'll always help you. I'm always here if you need me." He promised, stroking your knuckles.
"I don't think you'd like to listen to this. It's not easy…" You admitted, looking at your intertwined hands.
"Hey, I'm a cook; the word easy doesn't exist in my vocabulary." He joked, trying his hardest to make you comfortable.
You chuckled slightly at his words and then inhaled deeply, gathering your thoughts. Sanji was quiet, letting you prepare yourself to tell him whatever it was that was lingering in your mind. He would never rush you. You had all the time you needed. He was ready to stay with you on that bench for the whole night if he had to.
"I used to have a friend not long before I met Luffy…" You started, keeping your head down. "We were practically inseparable, ever since childhood. We always did everything together. And after what happened with my parents, he and his family were the only close people I had. And at some point, I realized that I didn't just see him as a friend. I wanted something else to be there between us. And I was almost certain that he felt the same way. Even other people noticed how we acted around each other. They would always ask us if we were together…"
Sanji guessed where this was going just from that little fragment he heard. And he could feel his heart breaking as he listened to you. What you described could as well be about you and him. This was exactly what was going on between the two of you. And, whatever that 'friend' did to you, you were afraid he would do the same. His thoughts were racing in his head, but he stayed silent, letting you continue with your story.
"And so I decided to tell him the truth one day." You shrugged your shoulders awkwardly. "And his reaction wasn't even bad. He just told me he needed time to think about it. He told me he had to sleep on it. And that's okay. Not everyone reacts the same way to a love confession. I didn't expect him to jump into my arms right on the spot. But then…" You took a deep breath, and Sanji immediately squeezed your hand to reassure you.
"Then, when he avoided me for two whole days, I decided to go to him. I'd rather have him tell me he didn't feel the same way than have him abandon me like I meant nothing to him… He wasn't home when I got there, but his parents let me in. I went to his room to wait for him, and there were two pieces of paper laying on his desk. I know I shouldn't have looked at them, but I noticed my name on top. It turned out that at the same time he was seeing some other girl, and once I confessed to him, he needed some time alone to figure out which one of us he preferred. Tell me, is it really love if you have to decide between two people?" You almost whispered, your voice breaking.
Sanji was just opening his mouth to say something, but you didn't let him.
"He made a list of the pros and cons of dating me and that other girl." You blurted out. "That was his solution. That was how he wanted to decide which of us he liked better. But that wasn't even the worst part." You said, closing your eyes for a few seconds as tears were about to spill.
"What was the worst part?" Sanji asked quietly, absolutely bewildered by everything he heard.
How could someone treat another person like this? He had no idea. You admitted your love to that guy, and he needed a list to decide about being with you? What was there to think about? If it was Sanji, he wouldn't contemplate it for even a second.
"The number of cons he found in me and in dating me was so long that I barely made it through." You explained, wiping the tears from your face. "And there was only one sentence in the pros column..." You sighed. "She's too loyal to leave me."
For a moment, Sanji thought he had misheard you because what you were telling him could not be real in his eyes. How was that the only good thing that guy saw in you? Sanji could think of dozens of things right on the spot, let alone if he had enough time to pay attention to your every detail. And where did that 'friend' find all the cons? This was just crazy.
"And you know what?" You asked rhetorically. "It's not really the list that hurts me so much. It's the fact that after all these years, I found out that he didn't even like me. We were friends out of habit. He kept me close to himself because I took care of him and I helped him whenever he needed me, not because he genuinely liked my company. Besides, I think he pitied me, and he was too much of a coward to say anything until I asked him myself. Do you know what he said? I don't even really like you. Why would you think I could love you?" Your voice broke completely as you said the last sentence.
You turned your head to the side, feeling too ashamed to look Sanji in the eyes. Of course, it wasn't the first time he had seen you cry, but never before had you cried for such a reason. Besides, what kind of male friend would like to listen to your sob-heartbreak story? He probably thought you were too sensitive and crazy for dwelling on something that happened all that time ago.
"Y/N, dear, listen to me." He asked, gently placing his fingers on your jaw, to turn your head so you would look at him. "What that guy did was absolutely cruel, and it never should've happened to you. And I can't believe that the only thing he found attractive about you was your loyalty, because there is so much more to you. You're..."
"Please, don't." You interrupted him, knowing very well where he was going with this. "Don't say things just because you feel like you have to. I didn't tell you this for you to assure me that I didn't deserve it. I only wanted to explain myself. That's all." You wiped the tears from your cheeks.
"I'm not saying this because I feel like I have to." He shook his head. "Everything I ever did and said was real. I meant every single word, every single kiss, and every single touch. I understand that you're hurt and that you find it hard to trust me, but I swear to you that I would never do anything to hurt you. I would never treat you like this." He promised, his own eyes filling with tears.
"I know." You smiled sadly, giving a quick glance at your still-intertwined hands. "Somewhere deep down, I know that I can trust you with this. But, at the same time, I'm too scared to try. I can't go through something similar again." You sighed, barely able to control your crying.
"But this is different... You don't have to worry about me not liking you back, because I already do, and I would never do anything to lose you. I swear that if you give me a chance, it will not end like this. You're my whole world..." He was slowly getting desperate, and he didn't even notice the few tears that dropped down his face.
He was right. Of course, it was different. This time, it wasn't you who confessed first; it was him. But what if he didn't actually mean it? What if he, himself, didn't realize that his feelings weren't real? What if he only thought he liked you because he was used to your company more than anybody else's from the crew? You found it hard to believe that someone could genuinely like you, and that's what kept you from trusting him.
"Oh, Sanji..." You whispered, placing your free hand on his cheek. "Believe me, it's better not to start anything at all and hurt for a little bit than get together just for it to end and break our hearts. I can't have my heart broken again. I barely managed to glue it back together the last time." You admitted, tenderly wiping the tears from his cheek with your thumb. "And, to be honest, I'm surprised that I got so close to you. I'd been avoiding close friendships for as long as I could, but you... Oh, you are so special... And I couldn't keep myself away from you. If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you. For leading you on and for making you fall in love with me, even though I knew I would never be able to fully give myself to you, I'm sorry."
"Please, Y/N, just trust me." He pleaded, taking your hand in both of his palms. "Just give me a chance, and I'll prove to you how much you mean to me. I will show you how much I care for you. Just give me a chance."
You both stayed quiet for a moment. You were trying to contemplate everything he said. You wanted nothing more than to trust him. You wanted nothing more than to see a smile appear on his face because you said 'yes'. But you couldn't. It was a feeling hidden deep inside of you. There was some strong force that kept you in those memories, not letting you get free. You lived in a lie most of your life. How could you be sure that this would turn out any differently?
Sanji didn't know this, but there were times when you'd overthink your friendship. There were times when you'd wonder if your relationship with him was real. Whenever you went, there were always beautiful women just waiting for him to give them his attention. And he did. It was always just a few smiles exchanged, maybe a minute or two spent on a flirtatious conversation, never anything more. But still, what could possibly stop him from choosing someone else over you? Because you knew you had no such power.
"Y/N, please." Sanji broke the silence after a minute, gently squeezing your hand. "What do I have to do for you to trust me? Because I will do anything."
"I don't know." You cried out, shaking your hand. "I don't know." You repeated yourself.
Sanji exhaled deeply, turning his head to the side. This was not how he expected that conversation to go. He knew you had a problem, but he was sure he'd be able to help you with it, just like he did with all the others. But this was different. This was something you had to fight on your own, and the only thing he could do was be there for you and wait for you as long as necessary.
You could feel your heart shattering into pieces when you looked at him. You realized that by being hurt and careless, you hurt him in the process. You should've kept to yourself. You never should've let yourself get so close to him. You knew how this could end, and you did it anyway. You felt disgusted with yourself.
You got up from the bench, suddenly getting overwhelmed with everything and getting the urge to leave as fast as possible so you wouldn't hurt the man you loved so dearly even more.
"Don't go." He asked, tightening his grip on your palm, which he was still holding.
"I'm sorry for everything." You said, standing above him. "I wish I could tell you what to do, but I don't know. I wish I could be normal, so you wouldn't have to go through this. I wish I didn't dwell on something that happened so long ago. And I wish I was as brave and optimistic as you... But I'm not. I'm really sorry." You leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead, letting your lips linger there for a little longer than necessary as heavy tears dropped down your cheeks straight into his hair.
Then you turned away from him. His hand loosened on yours as you took a step to the side. His fingers brushed against yours as you started walking away, and when you could no longer feel his touch on you, you ran away from the upper deck, once again leaving him alone with his thoughts.
After you had left and after he had wiped his tears away, Sanji stayed in his seat for a couple of minutes, trying to digest what happened. And the more and more he thought about it, the more one emotion began to dominate. Anger.
And he wasn't angry at you. God forbid. He was angry at the person who treated you like trash. He was angry at the man who humiliated you to the point of you not being able to see and trust someone's good and honest intentions. He was furious at your supposed friend, who destroyed your self-esteem so much that you now wouldn't believe that someone could actually fall in love with you.
It pained him to know that you felt the need to explain yourself and that you felt the need to apologize for your feelings. To somebody else, maybe your reasoning would be ridiculous; maybe it would be funny or stupid, but not to him. He couldn't possibly imagine how you felt. He couldn't possibly imagine what it was like to have the person you trusted the most in the world betray you.
But he did understand what really bothered you. It wasn't the fact that your 'friend' didn't have feelings for you. It was the fact that he had been deceiving you all your life, that he made you think you were important to him, and all for what? Just to take advantage of you? Just to exploit your honesty and kindness for his own gain? Just to laugh in your face once you find out? That man was a psychopath, for all Sanji knew. And he did not deserve to even breathe in your presence, let alone to deserve your friendship and love.
Sanji sighed, burying his face in his hands. It was unbelieveable how one man could destroy your whole worldview. How that one man could make you think that him—Sanji, who in all the time you were friends has never done anything to hurt you, be it mentally or physically—could possibly treat you the same way. Of course, he flirted with other women, but ever since he realized his feelings for you, he stopped. Yet, you still couldn't convince yourself to trust him.
And he didn't blame you. Hell, blaming you didn't even cross his mind. He was going to help you, no matter what. He was going to help you realize how much you were actually worth and how much you meant to him. And if you weren't going to listen, he would have to show you.
When you came to your room, it was empty, and you couldn't have been more grateful. You had absolutely no energy to explain anything to Nami, had she been inside. You plopped down on your hammock with tears still streaming down your face. You pressed your palms against your eyes, taking a deep breath.
You really did wish you were normal about what happened, but you weren't. You couldn't stop yourself from dwelling on him and what he did and said. And, somehow, even Sanji couldn't convince you to just let it go. You could have everything you've ever dreamed of with Sanji, and you knew that.
You knew that. And you were mad at yourself for reacting the way you did. You might've just destroyed the only good thing in your life. Of course, you still had your other friends that you trusted with your life, but Sanji... Oh, he was something else, and you were afraid to see how this whole fiasco would end.
You didn't want to lose him, but it seemed like there was no good solution to this. No decision seemed to be the right one. For you, accepting or denying his feelings would end the same way. The only question was: which one would hurt less?
Suddenly, the door opened, startling you. You quickly wiped the tears from your face and sat up.
"We're about to start playing; you coming?" Nami asked, leaning on the doorframe.
"No, not today." You answered, lying back down. "You can start without me."
"Are you okay?"
No. You were not okay. But you also weren't ready for the Q&A that would follow if you told the truth.
"Yes." You lied. "I just have to think about something."
Nami could clearly sense that there was something wrong, and she had an idea of what might've been the reason. It was no secret to anybody that you and Sanji were close, and everybody just waited for you to finally get together. And something told her that your love for each other had something to do with your behavior, but instead of pushing you into confessing, she changed her tactic to test the ground.
"Will Sanji be joining us?" She asked, squinting her eyes to see your reaction.
It was already dark outside, and the only source of light in the room was the one from the open door, and unfortunately, it didn't shine on your hammock. She could clearly see your every movement, but your face was hidden.
"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"
The navigator frowned. Your voice was steady and soft, like every other time you talked about Sanji. She thought he was the reason you acted the way you did, but she wasn't so sure anymore.
"He was supposed to prepare drinks and snacks for the game night, as always, but he isn't in the kitchen. I thought he was with you."
"He was." You admitted, not seeing a point in lying about it. "But I don't know where he is right now."
This surprised Nami even more. It was weird that you didn't know where he was. It's not like the ship was so big that it was hard to find each other, but usually, if you and Sanji weren't together, you at least knew where the other one was. What on earth was going on between the two of you?
"Okay. I'll look for him then."
"Alright." You said quietly.
The girl sighed but decided not to dig into the whole situation any deeper. Even if you had a fight, so what? It happened. She just hoped you would figure it out on your own soon, and you'd both go back to being your usual dumb selves that everybody loved so much.
Sanji came up to your door, raised his hand to knock, and then stopped. He gripped the envelope he was holding and sighed. He wasn't sure if what he was about to do was a good idea. He still had time to back down. Everything could either go perfectly well or absolutely horribly. It was a 50/50 chance.
And he decided to risk it.
It was an envelope addressed to you, with your name on top in Sanji's writing. You sat back down on your hammock as you felt your knees going weak. You slowly opened it with trembling hands.
He slipped the envelope through the crack under the door, knocked twice to get your attention, then quickly moved away from the door.
On the other side, you said a quiet 'come in', but when no one appeared in your room, you sat up. You immediately noticed the piece of paper lying on the floor, and your heart skipped a beat. You got up from your hammock and picked it up.
There were three pieces of paper inside. One seemed to be a short message, but what caught your attention were the other two. The pages were split in half. Your name was at the top. On the left, there was a column labeled pros; on the right, there was a column labeled cons.
The pros column was full on both sides of both pages, and there was only one sentence in the cons column.
Tears filled your eyes when you realized what he had done, but before you started reading about your pros, you decided to see what he thought was your only flaw.
She believes her worth is defined by what some asshole, who was too blind to see that he had the most beautiful woman by his side, thinks of her.
You chuckled through the tears as you read the sentence.
"Oh, Sanji, you're crazy." You said to yourself, shaking your head.
You took a deep breath and moved your attention to the pros. The more you were reading, the less you could see the words with the way you were absolutely bawling. He wrote about everything. From your appearance, through your personality, to things you haven't even noticed yourself.
You never realized that you tilted your head whenever you were deep in thought. You were definitely not aware of the fact that whenever you were about to try something new, you'd encourage yourself out loud. It was something you did naturally, mindlessly, and yet it caught Sanji's attention. He even noticed something so simple as you using both your hands to scratch your nose, which was another thing you did without even thinking about it.
If this was his way to try and change your mind, he succeeded. This was the cutest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you. Knowing that he focused on you to the point that he was able to write about your every detail was beyond heartwarming. You reached for the remaining page to read his little message.
I know the list is short, but believe me, there is so much more I'd like to say to your face. If you want to talk, you know where to find me. And if you aren't ready tonight, that's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I'll always wait for you.
You gathered all the papers together and left the room without a moment's hesitation. With tears still rolling down your cheeks, you walked onto the main deck. You started heading straight to the kitchen, ignoring your friends still sitting there, playing games.
"Y/N?" Luffy frowned when you got closer. "Are you crying?"
You said nothing, passing them. This was not the time to explain anything. You had something much more important to deal with.
"What the fuck?" Zoro cursed, getting up.
You reached the kitchen with your crewmates following right behind. You went inside without a second thought, even though your heart was beating like crazy and you didn't really know what you would even say.
Sanji jumped in his seat when the door opened, but his face softened when he noticed you. He quickly put out the cigarette he was smoking and got up from his chair. But he didn't dare take even a step toward you. You also stayed in your spot right next to the door. Your friends all stopped in the doorway, wordlessly watching what was about to happen.
"Do you mean it?" You choked up, holding the pages up.
"Every single word." He said softly, but without any hesitation.
"Can you promise me?" You cried out, your hand still in the air. "Can you promise me this is real?"
"I promise." He nodded eagerly, slowly coming up to you. "No, I swear. I swear this is real." He corrected himself, stopping halfway.
You were now only a few small steps away.
You exhaled deeply, dropping your hands to your sides. Sanji didn't know what to do. He wanted to console you. He wanted to wipe the tears from your face, but he was too scared to come closer. It was when you let out a quiet, genuine chuckle while looking right into his eyes that he knew. He knew you were letting him finish what he started a few hours ago.
It all happened so fast: his hands cupping your cheeks, his lips pressing against yours, your fingers gripping on the front of his shirt. You felt your legs going weak under his touch. It felt almost unreal to have him so close to you. Your brain has shut off completely. For a moment, nothing else existed. It was only you and Sanji. But then Zoro spoke:
"Seriously, what the fuck?" He asked, dumbfounded.
You and Sanji both laughed through the kiss, and then you slowly pulled away. You looked at your crewmates. Luffy, Zoro, and Usopp stood there with their mouths agape. Only Nami had a smile on her face as she casually leaned on the doorframe with her arms crossed against her chest.
"I thought it was never gonna happen." She commented.
"Me too." You agreed quietly. "But we figured it out." You added, turning your attention back to Sanji.
"Darling..." He smiled, wrapping his hand around your shoulders to pull you to his side. "The list is just the beginning." He promised, planting a kiss on your forehead.
"I'm counting on it, loverboy." You grinned.
It would take you some time to trust him completely and to forget about the past. But step by step, with a little faith and love, everything was possible.
“babygirl” and it’s a man in his forties who kills ppl
Buggy the Clown - Who's got it bigger ?
Warning : none
Genre : fluff
Synopsis : “jealous buggy x reader. where the reader is complementing cabaji's biceps. then buggy goes "Mines bigger".” - anon
Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)
You were sitting in the empty circus tent, watching Cabaji throw knives for the big spectacle you were all preparing. You yawned, watching at first the knives he grabbed and played with, before looking at his hand throwing them. Then your eyes moved to his arm, to stop at his biceps, flexing and unflexing as he moved.
Damn, they're big ?
Your eyes widened a bit as you stared for a few seconds before standing up, walking to him.
“Wait, Cabaji !” You stopped him, walking closer as you rolled up your own sleeves “Let me look at your arms ?”
He looked at you, surprised, but said nothing, nodding instead, letting you look at his arms. You flexed yours, putting it next to his biceps.
“Damn you have big muscles !” You exclaimed, laughing, making Cabaji chuckle, unaware your captain was behind you. He had stopped dead in his tracks as he had heard you, frowning.
He removed his coat, grumbling, placing it on one of the empty chairs and walked to you two.
“Mines are bigger, if you wanna be impressed.” He said proudly, flexing his arms.
You squinted your eyes, looking at his biceps then at Cabaji's.
Came to you two possibilities. Lie, but make your captain happy, or tell the truth and possibly make him mad. You tried not to smile as you grimaced, thinking hard.
“What's with that face ?” He asked, growing annoyed by your silence. Where was your amazement, huh ?
“What !? They are bigger ! Look better !” He yelled, placing himself next to Cabaji who had stopped flexing, not wanting to anger your captain even more. “Do it, idiot !” He said, slapping his arm.
Cabaji held in a sigh and obeyed, flexing again. You could tell he was trying to make it look smaller than before and Buggy noticed.
“Raah ! You're all… stupid !” He stomped, annoyed, throwing his hands in the air, and walked away. “You're lucky you're both needed for the show or else you would've been fired !” He menaced before disappearing, leaving his coat behind.
Buggy ignored you for the rest of the day, even when you brought him back his coat, still upset you found his biceps smaller than Cabaji's.
Then, came nighttime and you went into bed with him.
“Come on, stop sulking.” You said pulling the covers over you, your head resting on Buggy's shoulder.
“I'm not sulking.” He replied, glaring at you.
“I love your muscles.” You shifted a bit, grabbing one of his arms, hugging it. Buggy scoffed. “It's true !”
“I'm not ! I was just surprised that Cabaji got biceps this big !” You explained and his eyes twitched, still not pleased. “Come on, I like your little muscles.”
“They're not little !” He yelled, trying to get away from you.
“I was joking.” You laughed, pecking his lips quickly before he could move more. “I don't care that they're smaller than Cabaji's, I don't like his muscles.”
Buggy grumbled, still trying to get away, he detached himself from his arm before getting out of bed.
“I don't care, you're leaving me your second favorite part of you.” You said, pulling your tongue out. “Wanna know what's the first one ?” You smirked, knowing you had picked his interest. “It's your cute nose.” You said with a wink.
Buggy froze at your words, blushing a bit before stomping.
“Are you mocking me !?” He yelled, hiding his nose behind his free hand.
“I'm not mocking you.” You simply said, nudging his arm with your cheek. “I love you, it's only normal I like your nose and your arms. My head is resting so perfectly against it.” You sighed, happy. “If you had too much muscle it wouldn't be comfortable.”
He glared at you, unsure of what to do.
“It's up to you to come back to bed. I'm fine sleeping with only your arm in your bed. You left me your hand so I can hold it if I want. I don't really need you.” You said, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your lips, kissing it. Buggy stared with wide eyes.
“Oi !” He exclaimed, jumping back into bed. “You can't have only the parts you want !” He said, reattaching his arm to himself.
“Good. Because I lied. My favorite part of you is all of you.” You said with a grin, kissing his cheek and wrapped your arms around him, caging him against you.
Buggy grimaced, trying not to let your words win him over.
“I love you.” You said, kissing his shoulder, resting your chin on it.
You heard him grumble quietly, looking away slightly embarrassed before replying.
“I love you too.”
“Were you jealous ?” You finally asked, after a moment of silence.
“I wasn't !” He replied a bit too fast, his cheeks reddening quickly.
You chuckled and kissed his cheek.
“Don't be. You're the only one I love.”
“I told you I wasn't jealous !”
You hummed, one hand turning his face toward you and you kissed him, making his heart jump in his chest.
“Let's fucking sleep.” He said with a pout, trying to hide his blush by turning the lights off with a flying hand.
Happy 28th birthday to my celebrity husband !!😍😍
HI okay so would you be able to write a buggy x reader where reader is just like a bounty hunter hitching a ride with the straw hats so she’s not officially on the crew or anything, and it’s her turn to babysit buggy’s head and everyone hates doing it but her and buggy actually get along?? Luffy pretty much realizes she’s going to join him eventually and so at arlong park during the fight she gets injured and buggy like rescues her and asks her to join his crew? Sorry if that’s a really long request but thank you!!!!
Silly Little Titles
Buggy x F!Reader
Summary: You have paid for passage on board the Going Merry into the Grand Line, only to find you cannot stand its crew members. Members whose recent high jinks have earned you an unlikely ally in their prisoner. A prisoner who keeps trying to convince you to join his own crew.
Word Count: 3.0K
A/N: Oof--I got this request a while ago so sorry for the long wait. Buuuttt here it is now! And this was not a long request at all, the more you put down the more I have to go off of! I hope you all enjoy it! Alsooo my semester just ended so hopefully I'll be able to write more now!
(To anyone else who has sent me a request, I'm slowly working through them now so keep an eye out!)
You found the Straw Hat Pirates to be rather--annoying. Too full of youthful optimism. Too full of dreams. They still believed in the native idea that if you had your friends by your side, you could do anything--overcome anything. That’s what drove them across the East Blue now, to get their little orange-haired friend back.
Their captain, Luffy, couldn’t see she had betrayed them. Wouldn’t see it. Still too young and stupid and full of tooth-rotting hope. She was a pirate. A true pirate, not whatever Luffy and his strange collection of misfits were trying to be.
She stole from them and left them behind--left them to die at that floating restaurant.
It had you seeing red when it had happened, the situation dragging up one too many memories from your past.
And Luffy’s continued denial of her betrayal struck every nerve you had within you. Had you almost snapping harshly at him whenever he refused to see the truth. But you bit your tongue and grit your teeth. You were merely a guest on his ship. Just a traveler who had paid their former navigator and betrayer berry for passage on their ship into the Grand Line.
You thought of all the wonders the Grand Line held as you cleaned your daggers. Thought of the pirates that littered its treacherous seas. Pirates with bounties beyond imagination--bounties that no pirate sailing the four seas could ever hope to achieve.
Their bounties weren’t the full reason for your journey into the Grand Line. You had scores to settle with those who had hurt you in the past. People who you were going to prove wrong but killing off these pirates of unimaginable strength. To prove you were better than them. That no matter how high the bounty, your skills and blades could best them.
Though, such bounties wouldn’t hurt to have weighting your pockets down.
Something was dropped in front of you with a bang and a pathetic little ow, pulling you from your thoughts that were slowly turning bloody and dark.
“Are you SHITIDOITS trying to KILL ME?” The voice of the dismembered head of Buggy the Clown all but screamed. A clown these Straw Hats had made their prisoner. “You kill me, no finding Little Miss. Ray of Sunshine!” He continued to shout through the satchel bag he was currently stuck in. You turned your head up to find the crew's first mate and swordsman, Roronoa Zoro, standing all brooding and unamused as always.
“Clown tire the fearsome demon out? Need a little nappy poo?” You teased the ex-bounty hunter. An ex-bounty hunter who might have irked you more than his captain irked you.
Young and stupid and arrogant. Despite all your experience in raining pain and terror down upon your foes, this fresh-faced little boy was better than you. So much better he had gained what little interest Hawk Eyes Mihawk still held within himself by losing. By losing and nearly dying.
And it irked you. Made you that dark, bloodthirsty part of you wish to challenge the boy. To put him back in his place. To skewer him on his own sword.
But you didn’t. Didn’t because you currently didn’t have a ship or a single berry to your name to make it into the Grand Line by yourself.
“It’s your turn.” He spoke, hardly seeming affected by your mocking tone.
“I just had my turn before yours. I believe it is your newbie's turn to babysit him.” Zoro shook his head.
“The waiter’s cooking dinner,” Zoro said, placing his hand on the hilt of his last remaining sword. “I thought you would be overjoyed to have him back, seeing as two can reminisce about the good old days and your achy bones,” Zoro shot at you with that dry humor of his.
“Is that shithead calling us old?” Buggy seethed within the bag before you. One that wiggled about as he fought to free himself from its confines. “Old.” He scoffed. “This old man's gonna bite right through your achilles--show you whose old.” He hissed, his struggle bringing him to bump his head into your thigh.
You wordlessly placed your daggers on the deck next to you before picking the bodiless clown up and placing him in your lap.
“Don’t you just miss the good old days when little boys who disrespected their elders earned a good spanking?” You smirked up at the swordsman who merely blinked down at you slowly, like he didn’t have a thought behind his eyes.
“Usopp can take him after dinner.” Was all the famed demon said before walking off, heading into the inner workings of the Going Merry. You huffed harshly through your nose as you flung the satchel open, scooping the dismembered head out of it.
Buggy took a deep, dramatic breath of air as you threw the bag to the deck a little ways away. A dramaticness that had your irritated huff turn into that of amusement.
You had heard of the insane clown pirate whispered across the East Blue. Of his flashy circus and his violent tendencies. Of his cruelness and of his cowardice. He had never been big enough to spur you to hunt after him, so your paths had never crossed until just a few days ago, when his head was thrown at you like some screaming, cursing bowling ball.
“You gonna let that shit for brains talk to you like that?” Buggy asked as you crossed your legs, placing him before you so you could look at his face as long as you wished.
“Until I reach the Grand Line, yes.” You gruffed, leaning back against the railing. Buggy rolled his eyes in that same dramatic manner he had gasped for air in. A dramatic manner that you couldn’t help but like. Between Zoro’s stone-cold seriousness, Luffy’s stupid idioticness, Usopp’s painful lies, and Sanji’s endless ear-bleeding flirtations, it was very much welcomed.
“Sugar lips, if it’s passage to the Grand Line you want, I’ll give you passage.” You hardly batted an eye at the pet name he had given you. One amongst thousands of others he had come up with within the short while of knowing you.
“And how would you do such a thing for me in your sorry state?” Buggy narrowed his pretty green-blue eyes up at you in a spike of annoyance.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it's rude to make fun of a disembodied head?” He gruffed, which only had your smirk return to your face. You leaned down closer to the clown, making his narrowed eyes widen the slightest bit.
“But it’s too much fun. And you get so offended.” You said, giving his cheek a small little pinch. The clown turned his head, as much as someone who was only a head could turn, to get away from your teasing touch. You gave another huff in amusement, your smirk turning wicked. A wickedness you unleashed upon his other cheek with yet another pinch.
“AH! Enough--enough!” He shouted. You huffed, amused again as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back once more. Green-blue eyes snapped back up to you. “I’m serious, you know.”
“Yes really. Once I get my body back, I’m outta there. You could come with me--I’d take you to the Grand Line. Give you the grand tour.” Buggy’s red smudged lips pulled up into a crooked smile, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Eh? Grand tour.” A laugh bubbled in your chest. A laugh you tried your best to stifle, only for it to come out in pffted spurts. Buggy’s own funky laugh joined yours. “Gotcha good, didn’t I?.”
“You’re such an idiot.” You said on another stifled laugh that only made Buggy’s grin grow wider than you thought it could possibly go. “How do you plan on getting there without a map?” You asked once your laughter settled.
“That’s where you come in, sweetness.”
“Oh?” You said, egging him on. “What would you have me do?”
“Why thank you for asking. While I get my body back, you turn all those fishmen into oversized fillets and grab my map.” You nodded, liking the bit about killing off those Arlong Pirates who had had the audacity to spill your drink and punch you in the face. The face.
“And if these little ones get to the map before me?” You asked, gesturing towards the door with your thumb that led to the inner workings of the ship where you knew what was left of the Straw Hat Pirates mulled about. “What then?”
“Then you kill them right alongside those fishy fucks.” That dark, bloodthirsty part of you smiled its fanged grin at the thought of such carnage. Of being able to snuff out their childish dreams and hopes.
“Hmm…but I already spent all my berry them. Killing them would be such a waste.” You said, earning yourself a dramatic groan from him.
“Oh don’t be like that. I see you.” You cocked an eyebrow in question. “I see that look in your eyes. You like the hunt--the game before the kill. Same as me. You just use that fancy little bounty hunter title to cover it. To make you look presentable to the world.” He spoke, his voice taking on a danger-filled gruff. “If you were on my crew, you wouldn’t have to hide behind such silly little titles.”
You watched him for a moment. Watched his eyes blink, long lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks. Watched the bits of his blue hair that peeked out from under his red and white striped bandana shift in the breeze. Watched his green-blue eyes fill with a crazed madness that spoke to your own. Your own which you carefully hid, as Buggy so thoroughly pointed out.
“Yes…” You said carefully. “but I get paid for those I kill.” Buggy gave a deep chuckle.
“Oh baby, I get paid and I get to enjoy it without the government’s say so.” You huffed at his words. Words that were true. It was an idea you yourself had thought over many, many times throughout your life.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” You spoke, leaning down closer to him so you could look deeply into Buggy’s eyes. Eyes that widened the slightest bit once more at your closeness.
“What’s that, popcorn?” He said on a near breathy whisper. His eyes bounced around your face. Bounced from your eyes to your lips, to your cheeks, and then back to your lips.
You let your eyes rake over his features too. Features you had scanned over and watched hundreds of times over the last few days. Features you had instantly liked looking at the moment you laid eyes on him. A liking that only grew with each passing day. With each passing hour, minute, second.
“15.” That snapped his eyes back up to yours. Green-blue eyes that narrowed in confusion.
“15 million is what I see when I look at you.” His eyes hardened the slightest bit making you grin down at him. “A nice little bounty I could use to buy my own ship.”
“And here I was thinking you liked me, baby cake.”
“Oh baby,” You said, mocking his nicknames for you, “I do like you.” You lulled, brushing your knuckles over his warm, stubble-covered jaw. His breath hitching in the back of his throat only had your grin growing wider. “But you’re too easy to tease.” Buggy huffed with a roll of his eyes, yanking his head away from your touch.
“You’re such a wicked little thing.”
Once where annoyance for the youthful Straw Hat Pirates laid now boiled something akin to hatred.
The Arlong Pirates should have been easy prey. Were easy prey. Ones whose heads held bounties over them. Bounties you could have easily collected after this little battle for their lost cause navigator had their long-nosed lier not tripped you. Tripped you right into the octopus-like fishmen you had been fighting. Tripped you right into those eight, wicked blades he wielded.
Pain rippled through your body as you rolled away from the fishmen still trying to finish off what Usopp had helped him start. The ground cracked and shook with every missed attack meant for you.
Around and around and around you rolled until you hit a solid mass blocking you from rolling any further.
A boulder. Of course, of course, you had run into a boulder.
You were going to kill that fumbling idiot if you lived. Kill him and the rest of the Straw Hats just for being his friend.
“Ha, ha! Stupid human. Can’t even move a boulder out of your way.” The fishman laughed, coming up before you. You shook in your pain as you tried to sit up--to try and save yourself from dying an embarrassing death. “Prepare yourself for my--huh.” A tap on the shoulder cut the octopus off. A tap on the shoulder that had him turning to look and see who was trying to get his attention.
No one. Absolutely no one stood there.
“Whose there?” The fishman asked before he was tapped on the opposite shoulder. He had just whipped around to face whoever was messing with him, only to get a flying, disembodied fist to the jaw.
He fell over with a pained groan that you hardly had time to enjoy before hands were grabbing you under your shoulders and yanking you around the boulder that had blocked your path.
Pain shot through your body and you grit your teeth against it, throwing your head back to see who was dragging you away. No one. No one but two, detached gloved hands holding you.
Buggy. It was Buggy who had thrown that fishman off your scent. It was Buggy who had knocked him out and now was dragging your sorry ass away from the fight still being waged. Buggy who was quickly coming into view, pacing anxiously at the edge of the forest behind him.
“Thank fucking gods,” Buggy said dramatically as he all but dropped you on your back, making you growl in pain. “Thought I was dragging your corpse for a second there.” You watched as his hands reattached to his wrists before rolling onto your side, clutching at your various wounds, all stinging and throbbing from being dragged through rocks and dirt. “Let’s get going while the going good, ya?” Buggy said, his brown boots coming into your line of sight.
“If I move anymore, my guts are going to fall out.” You grit, a wave of pain making your stomach roll as if you might puke.
“Shit. That overgrown calamari really did a number on you, huh?” He huffed, kneeling down before you. A smirk was your only warning before he was bopping you on the nose in an irritating manner.
You swatted his hand away from your face so you could look up at him narrowly. So you could look over his face that looked that much better attached to his body. A body you had never had the pleasure of seeing, but holy gods it was just as nice to look at as his face. So nice you almost grabbed him and ripped his clothes off just so you could see all of him. You would have too, had you not been slowly bleeding out to death.
“That long-nosed boy tripped me.” Buggy watched you for a second. A second that was cut off by him giving a belly-shaking laugh.
“Shit--that idiot tripped you? How’d you let that happen, candy?” You hissed up at Buggy who only laughed harder.
“I’m going to kill him. Him and the rest of those Straw Hats.” You declared to him. Declared to the world with a bang of your fist in the dirt.
Buggy’s laughter slowly died out as he grabbed you up again, hulling you into his arms as he stood. The jerky movements did nothing to help your wounds.
Green-blue eyes bore into your own. Eyes that filled with a dark chaos that called to the darkness welling and thrashing around in yourself.
“Baby, we’ll kill them together.” He said, that danger in his voice again. A danger he whispered out in a way that sent a shiver running down your spine. “What do you say?”
“We’ll kill them and you’ll take me to the Grand Line?” Buggy nodded, that grin of his pulling at his red smudged lips.
“You join my crew, become my bounty hunter, and I’ll take you anywhere.” You huffed, clutching at your ribs, which one or two were surely broken.
“I said I like getting paid.”
“You’ll be paid, don’t worry.” You huffed. And you huffed again because you couldn’t think of anything else to say. Couldn’t think of any other reason as to not go with him.
Joining him would mean free passage into the Grand Line. Would mean the freedom to do as you pleased when you pleased it. Kill who you pleased, regardless if they had a bounty on their head or not. Joining him would mean you could hunt after the Marines now. Could slaughter them right alongside any pirate that got in you and your would be captain’s way.
Because, if you looked not so deep within yourself, you knew it wasn’t about the money. It was about the kill, just as Buggy had guessed right about you. The thrill of being terrified by those who once thought so little of you. Of being better than them.
“It’s just a silly little title, sugar. Come out of hiding.” You raised a shaky, blood-covered hand and pinched his cheek. The clown gave a startled little noise that turned aggravated. “Hey--” You chuckled, letting him go.
“I’ll join you,” Excitement rose in Buggy’s eyes. Excitement he let be known to you with that funky laugh of his.
“Ha! I knew you’d see it my way, baby.” A detached hand came up and around to bop you on the nose again, which you allowed as a sort of payback for you pinching his cheek.
“Gonna work on your title then. How about…Lady Doom? You know, cause you bring doom upon your victims.” He said, with an excited wiggle of his eyebrows. Your wounds stung as he began walking away from the fight still waging behind you and into the forest beyond. “Ooo--or The Quiet Death.”
“I’m not very quiet.”
“But the dead don’t know that.” You rolled your eyes on a huff of amusement.
↩ To Masterlist
El Tango de Mihawk
As promised, although arriving much sooner than anticipated and only half beta-read (apologies, but over-eagerness wins again).
Warnings: dancing, flirting, danger, peril, kissing, touching, pining, prior relationship hinted, enemies to lovers.
Word Count: 5,223
Song Suggestions: Tango de Roxanne, La Cumparsita.
Arm hanging loosely within the crook of the young marine’s elbow, you took in the incredibly intricately decorated large, circular room. It was not difficult to feign wonderment; your eyes widening, a gasp falling from your parted lips and a coy cock of your head as your eyes danced around the room.
It seemed almost too easy for you to swipe an invitation at the bequest of the marine to attend as his date. As soon as your mischievous, scheming eyes fell to the advertisement plastered to the notice board; you knew the opportunity for finery-theft was too great to pass up. Feigning a stumble, you fell within the open arms of the marine who blushed at your praises of heroism. Fingertips dancing over his cheeks, a small flutter of your eyelashes, and spoken words of: “how could I ever repay such a valiant sailor?” had him baited and hooked as your prey for the evening.
He was old enough to know better, but ill-seasoned in the art of feminine flirtation and suggestion. Just how you liked your prey: pretty, dangerous and ill-prepared to handle your advances.
After purchasing your evening dress and lace adorned masquerade mask for you, you knew this night was to hold much more thrill than the average night of petty theft. You were simply itching for the loot the evening would have in store for you.
White and red roses hung loosely like vines cascading down the white pillars, candles thrust within the arrangement and lit with flamed wick to create a romantic atmosphere. The fragrances whispering upwards to your senses was of the tart bubbly champagne, the softness from the florals and the subtle perfume you dropped on your neck, chest and wrists. Oh, how you adored the rich. You adored them even more when you claimed their wealthy treasures as your own, adding to your hoard of finery with objects that shimmered and glowed.
The first item of the night was the ribbons of pearls clasped on the neck of the wife of a seasoned marine captain. You managed to obtain an introduction, feigning innocence in attempting to rise the rank of your date for the evening. Charisma, charm and innocence was the part you played; always the coy flatterer and encourager. Once you felt the clasp of the brass hook behind the woman’s neck within your fingers, it was immediately unhooked and fell within your skilled and feather-light hand with neither care nor acknowledgement from their prior owner.
As the music began, you twirled with a smirk; placing the beaded sea-gems within the crevices of your cleavage to fall slowly between the mounds of your breasts. Once established within their home for the evening, you allowed the marine in the attempt to sway his body with yours. This appeared to be the first time this particular nameless gentleman has ever graced a dance floor, his fluster adamant in his movement.
The orchestral arrangement of pieces thus far was mainly waltzing and an odd foxtrot falling within the air to paint it with their artistry. Your body had been trained by your mother for years to gather the confidence and skill necessary to surpass her abilities to steal and burgle your way up to the higher class; dance falling as a necessity to obtain such a goal.
Rings, bangles, necklaces, tie-clips, a small wad of berry; child’s-play to follow after the first item with similar ease. You even managed to snag a small switch-blade on the belt of one of the marines, much to your delight. The only hinderance halting your less-subtle advances on fine material was a small feeling that your maneuvers were not as discrete as you would like it. You felt eyes. Eyes watching, waiting in the wings and ready to pounce. As you spied a large diamond ring, you halted your advance as the burning eyes scorched your fingertips.
Seeking their origin, you would subtly gaze from the corner of your eyes to search them out; never locating their source. You would huff your chest, readjust your mask and plaster a false smile on your face to gaze in feigned awe up into the eyes of your date in lieu of your prize.
Feigning a small lip bite and praising his dance moves, you finally managed to trace your fingers atop his gold marine pin of honour, effortlessly removing it without the notice of your date; rolling it against your inner palm before stooping to lay your hand against the brush of your hip to fall the small object within the open back of your dress. The opening was high enough to be tasteful, but low enough to gain ease of access with one of your many hidden pockets.
You had three major points you had managed to place upon your person for ease of concealing your many finds: your bag attached to your left hip, the crevices of your breasts down into your cleavage, and a small bag above your hidden daggered holster on your right thigh.
Every good thief has their specialty weapons. Your father used a blow-dart with toxins to paralyse their victims, your mother used a sword: both options you would prefer to steer clear of for agility and the thrill of the chase. Toxins were too easy, swords were too bulky: throwing knives were a perfect fit for you.
After the completion of one dance with the marine, he bowed lowly to you and offered to retrieve refreshments on behalf of you both. You bit your lip, a large sigh falling in thanks with more slow and deliberate eyelash kisses in thanks and encouragement had that similar light blushed pink once again gracing his cheekbones and upper ears. After he turned to walk away, you felt your character slipping in joy of the ease the role took to you; a smirk tickling the corners of your lips.
“Too easy,” you whispered in a light sigh, rolling your shoulders back and rotating your neck to relieve the tension. At the lull of your neck, you felt the familiar sensation of being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck prickling to attention at the unwanted gaze, with the skin elevating behind them in subtle bumps. Slowly dragging your feet around the floor, your toes raking deliberately against the polished marble, you attempted to find the owner to the unwanted attention you seemed to snare.
You raked your sights around the room, first falling to the orchestral ensemble as they once again made to equip their instruments to begin their melody; before your sights fell onto the silver-haired Vice-Admiral, Garp. He was engaged in deep conversation with another higher up amongst the marines. Your mind was screaming: “Danger, Danger. Do not approach,” yet as soon as your eyes dropped to his platinum and gold-plated pocket watch; your mind was immediately persuaded to halt all warnings eclipsed by desire to obtain the item.
Eyes glazed, you began your approach from the rounded dance floor to only feel the inner arch of both of your elbows clasped within the talon-like grip of unfamiliar and unwelcome hands. Your breath hitched, back arched outwards as the familiar and dangerous oaken-fragrance of the person behind you overwhelmed your senses before his voice cut through the silence.
“One wrong move, vixen,” he uttered in a low tone, “and I’ll reveal you to the masses.”
“Dracule Mihawk,” you whispered in a small hiss, your lips curled into a small grimaced snarl, “why are you here?”
“I could ask the same of you, little thief,” you felt his signature taunting smirk rise up within his bored tone, prompting your scowl to deepen further atop your brow. He tugged at your arms, your body responding by laying your back flush against his bare torso, his lips falling to tickle his wine-scented breath against the outer shell of your ear.
“I see you have come chaperoned this time,” he whispered into your ear, your eyes darkening beneath your ornamental mask concealing the upper half of your face, “how very clever of you.”
A small growl fled from your lips as you continued to hold your sights forward, lulling your head to the side to reveal more of your neck to him.
“I’ve learnt from my prior mistakes, warlord,” your scowl turned into a small smirk, unwrapping your right arm from his tight grip by circling it around itself; raising your arm behind your head to trace the outer neck of the broody swordsman behind you, dragging it slowly downwards.
“So it should seem,” his voice taunted you, allowing your small gesture to fall against his skin; your fingertips dancing in a small brush down towards his collar and torso.
He twirled you to face him, your hips swaying against his guidance as the silent hall gathered to couple up for the next musical interlude. Your gaze met with his honey-coloured eyes, his finely manicured facial hair rising against his lips as his smirk broadened to meet your face.
“Here is what’s to happen,” he uttered darkly, his smirk dropping as an air of dominant superiority fell in its stead, “you are going to return all of these items to these fine people,” you huffed out an exasperated breath, “and you are going to leave.”
“And should I refuse?” you challenged him, angling your chin upwards in defiance. His lip curled upwards into a frustrated snarl.
“I will have no choice to reveal you,” he informed you, arching his face down in a stoop towards your own. You hummed at him, tilting your head and swaying it innocently.
“Reveal what, exactly?” your coy smile returning to your lips, batting your eyelashes up at him with a small air of confidence, “I have done nothing wrong, and I have a formal invitation at the hands of my young chaperone.”
The warlord’s hand clasped firmly against your lefthand hip, grasping a handful of your flesh alongside the satchel containing some of your hoard. A small whimper fled from your lips at the unwithheld gesture, eyes immediately fleeing from his hunted and accusatory gaze to search the room for your date; praying he wasn’t watching the interaction.
Mihawk chuckled, leaning down further into you; yourself feeling small under his dominance as your back again arched away from him. The musicians began their open-stringed tuning of their instruments before the lectern was tapped by the conductor with their long, steel rod.
“As uncooperative and stubborn as always, I see,” he smirked down at you as the conductor began to tap the introductory beat against the wooden frame, “then I shall simply have to rid you of the items myself.”
You twirled from his grasp, your back arched as you stooped low with your hips swayed to the sultry arrangement; “you may certainly try, swordsman.”
It had been years since the Mihawk had first laid his eyes on you, and you had blossomed beautifully under the guidance of your parents. You had just reached the cusps of adulthood, your abilities as a thief had only began to be explored in the field where he first saw your flirtatious advance of some decrepit and disgusting marine with his travelling hands making you uncomfortable.
Of course he felt hooked to free you from the cusps of the uncomfortable exchange; and the price he paid for such a valiant feat be the relinquishment of his berry clasped within his leather-bound wallet. Only one small kiss was paid against his cheek in the exchange for it, without his knowledge of being parted from the object in the first place.
Your youthful and innocent eyes were what snared him then, but your sultry and tempting expression is what captured his attention now. Challenge rose within the chasms of the broody warlord’s chest, a small rotation of his shoulders rid him of his inhibitions, as he raked his feet along the ground to engage you in this dangerous dance of flirtatious conquest.
His hand reached for yours, outstretched and demanding rather than requesting your own. You smirked before tracing the palm of his hand with a dance of your fingertips to claim it; his hand firmly wrapping his digits around your own with haste and confidence in response.
This was not the Mihawk you remember. The valiant saviour, the all-too willing to draw his blade, the desire and eagerness to win your heart and hand was long since fled from his demeanour: an overly confident, arrogant and almost bored gentleman now rose within the shell of such a man. A dangerous man. A man who was purchased by the World Government in the stead of leading a life of piracy.
Twirling your body within his own and falling back to press chest to chest, your senses were once again filled with his signature cologne; a scent he had not changed in all the time fallen between you. The oaken undertones, the smoky and oceanic middle and the almost sweet floral hint enchanting you as he held you so tenderly pressed against himself as he engaged you in dance.
His curled, raven locks shorter than they once were, his moustache and beard grown and shaped into a fine art piece atop his face; and he had you cornered as a predator would his meek prey. His guiding hand found the small of your back, cradling your body firmly against his as he swept you throughout the circular hall to the seductive and tantalising music. His hand travelled once again to your left hip, thumbs tracing the outside of the material flush against your thigh.
“My, my,” he commented with his smirk once again gracing his lips, “so many fine additions to your hoard today,” his hand dipped against the leather satchel, expertly unhooking the clasp from your hidden girdle and falling the bag to your knees, “it may even cover the berry you took from me all those years ago.”
Your lips formed into a small pout as he gathered the satchel within his open right palm, twirling you to place the bag on an empty table framing the dance floor before turning you both to the centre of the room again.
“But that was such a long time ago,” your breathy gasp was laced with a slight sarcastic whine as you allowed him to continue leading you through this dance with danger, “surely the amount of berry has been recovered by now.”
“No, no, little thief,” he cooed at you his left hand falling to your right thigh and drawing your knee over his left hip; raking his broad fingers against your exposed flesh to draw closer to the concealed blades, “in fact, the interest gathered alone from your theft has left me in complete ruin.”
“You will not take my arms,” you firmly stated, Mihawk twirling you to the rhythmic swell of the melody.
“I will take as much as I desire for your ill-cooperation, vixen,” he taunted you, fingers tracing lower to fall to your thigh as his breath tickled your neck in a seductive taunt.
Eyes widening, Dracule Mihawk teased the circular daggers from your holster one by one and expertly threw them silently to imbed within the rose-covered pillars within the room.
You breathed out an air of irritation, your snarl once again rising as you warned him; “then you will also take my fury, alongside my revenge.”
“I am simply quivering in anticipation, vixen,” he chuckled darkly, lips trailing over your jugular as he toyed his index finger against the outer ring of your final throwing blade. Your eyes fluttered shut against his adventurous touches, arching your back to press your torso into his own as he breathed in the subtle florals of your perfume.
His mind became foggy from the thrill of the hunt, you falling so easily into the role of prey to his pursuit. The vixen and the hawk: both as dangerous to one another without having one truly triumph in their battle of victor. He was now winning, and he was relishing in such a victory.
Your prized daggers, now effortlessly disarmed from your body, now became a part of the scenery surrounding the dance floor. Your breath haltered in your throat; now not having a failsafe method to protecting yourself, you felt you had no choice but to allow Mihawk to continue prying your treasures from your body.
Annoyance fell to your face, committing the landing points to memory regarding your blades as Mihawk dropped your thigh back to fall your feet to the floor. Both of his hands now raked slowly from your shoulder blades down to fall to your hips; his right hand locating your bag on the righthand side above your holster.
“Clever again, vixen,” he praised you in a small, sarcastic purr, “you thought I wouldn’t frisk your dominant side again in my search.”
“Truthfully, Lord Dracule,” your addressal caught his attention, his yellow eyes snapping back to your own, “I did not prepare myself adequately to receive such attention from your travelling hands.”
His hands faulted in his retrieval of your secondary pouch slightly; just a whisper of hesitancy before he continued on his journey of ridding you from your lifted wares.
Necklaces, rings, bangles; everything the wealth of the evening you could’ve brought home to add to your hoard was now collected from you within the sultry dance Mihawk was guiding you through. The swell of the music in addition to the dangerous aura he engulfed you within had you set on a slight disadvantage. You needed something to even the odds, something to bring the control back to you as you held it for the majority of the evening.
His eyes fell to your cleavage, noticing the glimmer of a pearl beneath your brassier. Floating his eyes beneath his dangerous, dark eyelashes, back towards your own; he made to reach his hand down into your chest to retrieve the fine item. You immediately broke from his embrace as you spun away from his direct withdrawal of the object from your breasts.
Stalking and calculated in his approach, he circled himself behind your back; drawing your left hand to thrust delicately and horizontally within the air. He trailed the ghost of his lips along your forearm, your eyes flittering shut under his flirtatious advance.
“I will not leave here with less than what I arrived with,” you whispered your warning to him, his lips now falling to your outer neck.
“Then by all means,” he flicked your hair to fall over your other shoulder as he continued to circle your body, “retrieve your daggers and be on your way,” trailing his lips down and firmly clasping your right hand within his own and turning your wrist to face the inner, soft flesh to the chandelier above, “if, that is, you can find them.”
He drew his lips down to press a tender kiss against your inner wrist as the character you adorned for the night began to truly slip away; the smirk beneath his moustache rising more of a hateful blush to your cheeks as he continued his flirtatious tirade of insults with his words and actions. You wanted to stab him with something sharp, something that hurt for the embarrassment he was pulling to best you. Having no such blade upon your person would make that feat all the more challenging, but truly delicious should you pull it off with success.
He again drew you to himself and danced you around the floor in slow and calculated strides, his smirk not once falling from his controlled face; relishing in the knowledge that he had bested you truly. His eyes once again were drawn to your cleavage, the ribbon of finely beaded pearls once again within his sights as he decided this time to dive his face within your breasts in lieu of his hands.
Shock would be the first emotion to fall against your face, your innocent character behind the masquerade mask the only thing keeping you firmly held within this dangerous game of cat and mouse; or hawk to a vixen. As his lips fished out the pearled end of the long piece of ribboned ornate string, your hands instinctively fell to the back of his neck to hold him in place.
But what was that your fingertips brushed? Was is a solid bayonet clasp holding a priceless metallic necklace against the chest of the warlord; a warlord currently distracted by his own task within your breasts? Why yes, it appears it was.
Stampeded by the will to not leave this arena of seductive taunting empty handed; you ushered any inhibitions away from your mind as you convinced yourself to once again thief from the warlord in front of you.
Immediately, your fingertips expertly pried the clasp open with ease; you holding the chain in place beneath your palms and feigning freight beneath the swordsman’s ministrations, as his teeth reclaimed the lengthy necklace shamelessly from within your breasts. He unlaced one hand from behind you to collect the necklace from his mouth, his eyes holding his gaze as piercing as the hunter’s arrow against your own.
You danced your eyes between the two of his, glancing down briefly to meet with his lips as he completely withdrew the necklace from his slacked jaw. Sensing a slight shift in your emotions, his eyes narrowed to seek out the source for the shift.
“What are you playing at, little thief?” he asked you with an air of dangerous caution, “you’re staring at me like you’ve won, whereas I am clearly the victor in our little charade.”
Immediately, you dropped your right hand from the back of his neck to fall onto his cheek; caressing his bearded skin within your palm as the other held fast to the clasp around his neck.
“You have won this round, my lord,” you confirmed with him, ushering his face closer to your own, “now allow me to present a reward for your victory.”
You drew him truly downwards, cradling his face within your right hand as your parted lips captured his own. Where once was an innocent kiss parted onto his cheek in your youth, this amorous exchange felt like opening a tabbed chapter of a long-since neglected novel. Mihawk’s breath was stolen from his lungs as you held his lips fastened in a dance of passion against your own; your own heart beginning to swell as he reciprocated the tryst of your lips.
As he leant further into the kiss, his shoulders stooping as his hands wove around your shoulders to dip you in a low arch perpendicular to the floor. You almost felt bad for the way the chain around his neck fell so easily into your hand beneath him. The gold cross, now clasped firmly within your left palm, was to be your prize for the evening. Your hoard of trinkets worthless against the excitement this item brought to you.
The musical decrescendo began to dip, informing the two of you, and the other dancers on the circular floor, that the melody had come to its conclusion. Unbreaking the kiss, Mihawk rose you from your dip and nudged your chin with his own; his tongue darting out to brush with your own briefly before retuning behind his lips as briefly as they opened.
Not truly desiring the moment to end; you rewove your left hand, which now clasped Mihawk’s neck-chain and cross within it, behind his neck to hold him firmly to yourself. Your lips opened to pry more of himself against you, his gasped breath again claimed by your unwithheld ministrations. Eyes closed, you tilted your head and drew your torso completely flush with his as you stood on your toes to bring yourself fully flush with his chest.
The warmth radiating from his open shirt, the heat pouring from his skin was enough to hold your attention captive entirely. Mihawk again arched your back to chase your lips with his, unbreaking and unwavering in intensity before he closed the exchange of romance by withdrawing his lips from their proximity against your own.
“My, my,” he teased with his hawk-eyes half-hooded as he gazed at you, “what a reward that was for my efforts, vixen.”
You sighed against his teasing, your heart almost breaking for what you were about to depart from the ballroom with; but not enough to halt your strategic withdrawal.
“I will take my leave then, warlord,” you curtseyed low, the cross within your palm concealed by the gathering of your dress out to the side as you dipped in respect; a curt bow of his own with his feathered hat falling to your view.
“Until next time, little thief,” he rose from his bow as you did from your curtsey, “enjoy wallowing in your own pity as I relish in my victory. May you win the next round.”
You bit your tongue, opting to not give yourself away from his taunts while fighting the blush his voice drew out of you. Desperately hoping to never see him again to keep his golden cross all to yourself; while hopelessly longing for another chance to best him and greet him with an embrace had your heart racing, judgement clouded and eyes glazed.
“May our next meeting arrive sooner than the time parted between our first meeting and our now,” you offered him a warm smile, “I do miss your charming face and your way with words, Mihawk.”
“Flatterer,” he purred at you, before clicking his boot heels together in a curt tap while turning to rejoin the gathering of warlords and representatives of the world government.
Opting to not seek out your blades, nor locate your chaperone for the evening; you immediately danced yourself away to withdraw to the shadows of the event. Raising your right hand up to fix your mask in place, you located the nearest exit from the venue: a large arched doorway with glass panel windows on a white frame. The roses hung low from the tall arch, ivy and baby’s breath sporadically placed in lieu of the candles.
This was not the large entrance you originally entered through with your young chaperone, but the ally entrance to the finely and meticulously maintained labyrinth of green hedge-ends.
You paused, turning one last time towards the dance floor to seek out the warlord with your sights. Upon your eyes tracing the floor to meet your sights with his form, you were immediately met with the piercing yellow-eyes you were craving; he, too, seeking you out to set his eyes on yours once more before your departure.
Lips parted, a small quivered tremble in apprehension and pity fell to your face as the valuable metal remained secured within your left hand. You raked your eyes over his neck to the place his cross was once hanging, noticing how truly beautiful you found his statuesque physique.
Unfortunately for you, his brows furrowed at your sights dancing on his skin; his chin dipping, his jaw hanging slack as soon as he found vacant space instead of his inestimable necklace. Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes widening as he snapped his sights back to your face.
Anger. Pure and unadulterated fury fell to his face, prompting you to shy backwards through the archway while holding his burning gaze.
The first time you bested him with your thievery, he only noticed what was taken from him as he made to purchase a pastry from a nearby bakery on his journey retuning to the inn he’d purchased for the night; finding vacant space where his wallet once was. He was angry and upset then, he was enraged and his fury burned brighter now you remained behind to witness it.
Seeing no other option, you scurried immediately to your feet as you stampeded towards the entrance of the labyrinth; the moon the only illumination for the dark emerald and navy hues of the circular leaves. Tunnelling through corner to corner of the confusing muddle of gravel, dirt and shrubs; you continued to swiftly barrel through the winding road to seek out the true exit to the maze.
Not a sound was uttered, the music far from your ears within the large ball-room not travelling far enough to grant you the pleasure of its company. Your breath picked up in hitch as you panted against the hasty retreat, your body propelling to the centre of the maze; well lit with domed fire pillars with an ornate marble table at the centre.
Five openings surrounded the table: one you just exited from, alongside three options to trap you in your doom and one to throw you into your victorious freedom. Your head bobbed frantically between the options as you debated which path to fall your feet towards. Finally choosing for the path closest to the north; your steps were halted as a knife was thrown to whistle past your eyeline and imbed itself within the cement, torched pillar beside you.
“As you have learnt from your mistakes, vixen,” his voice relayed in an agitated tone under the cover of darkness, “I, too, have learnt from mine.”
“M-Mihawk,” your voice wavered in your throat as another blade cut through the air beside your head to imbed itself lower in the pillar.
“You stole from me once,” he taunted from the shadows, “made me out to be a fool,” another blade whispered it’s sharpened edge against your cheek, not quite making contact but enough as a warning, “I despise looking to be anything less than what I am.”
“And what are you, Lord Dracule Mihawk?” your own agitation drawing itself to your brow.
“I,” he began, stepping into the light of the central area in slow and steady strides, “am the consequence you have brought upon yourself this evening.”
His feathered hat atop his head danced within the whispered wind, his eyes hidden beneath it as you stepped back to fall your lower back against the marble top of the circular table.
“And what such consequence must I prepare myself for?” you asked him with a pointed tone, “turning me over to the World Government would be low, even for you.”
He hummed a small shadow of a chuckle within his throat, tilting his head up to grace your vision with his yellow-eyes; wild with a sadistic joy above his smirking mouth.
“Turn you over?” He approached your body, raising his left hand to caress your cheek while his right sought out the blade clutched within the palm of your left hand, “such a simple solution for a complex vixen. I hardly see that as a fitting consequence for your crime.”
You swallowed a dry breath, your body screaming as you were finally captured within the talons of the mighty warlord of the sea. His fingertips brushed a stray hair behind your ear, the pad of his index finger toying at the ribbon clasping your masquerade mask close to your right eye.
“I am going to work you hard to settle your debt, little thief,” he informed you in a low whisper, his fingers trailing to the bow unifying your mask against your face, tugging on it to fall the laced object from your eyes, “from this day and all to follow, you are mine.”
Sanji x Obsessed!Reader
Wrote this to Can't Wait by Doja Cat...uhhhhhh yeah.
I wanted the reader to be like unhealthily obsessed but also tries not to show it? Idk, I hope yall enjoy!
Warnings: language? some yandere-ish themes, reader is...yeah
Above it all was him, the pedestal you had subconsciously placed him upon growing higher the more you interacted. You sop up every ounce of attention he gives, letting it seep into your bloodstream, and sink into every vein and artery. Any and every chance you got to at least be by his side was a gift in your eyes.
He never minded you watching him, eyes focused, pupils blown wide. Had he not known he was the object of your obsess- affection? You were no saint, doing any and everything in your power to keep him away from anyone but you. Take up his time in hopes you'd fill his every waking thought like he had done you.
You sit on the countertop, far enough to not disturb him, but close enough to hold a conversation...to hold eye contact. From here all that matters is him. The way he moved so quickly yet precisely with the ingredients he used.
How he ever so often rolls his piercing between his teeth and lips. How he takes one to two seconds to brush his hair from his face, only for it to fall in the same spot again. Perfect. He was so perfect.
"Will you try this for me, love?" He asks with that boyish smile that always makes your heart swell.
It's moments like those you forever hold close to your sinister and obsessed heart. He tilts your head back and lets the spoon slide past your lips, the contact making you seize up in the best way possible. Everything about him was amazing.
The way those pretty blue eyes pierce yours from any sign of disgust. He knows it will never come. The way his lips slightly parted awaiting your thoughts and opinions.
You hum and smile, licking your lips, staring into his eyes, analyzing and picking him apart. He doesn't know that despite his food being amazing every single time, to you, he is the most rewarding meal you ever had.
"Amazing as usual." You speak, tone lovestruck and he can feel it. It makes his chests well but he pushes it aside.
He only smiles, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. You can't help but feel your stomach knot itself at the action. Your brain is filled with pleasure and his name. Why won't he give in, why won't he let himself love you, let himself be adored by you?
You swallow down any thought that may slip past your lips in the form of a confession. He loves you, doesn't he? He wouldn't have touched you like he did and does if he didn't. He wants you, he needs you. Right?
Even though your delusions were becoming harder to tell apart from reality one thing was certain. Your spot would always be right next to him,
And you couldn't wait to take your self-proclaimed, rightful, place
I’m not running. We’re going to protect this place.
ONE PIECE (2023)
1.06: The Chef and The Chore Boy
🤡click for more clownussy🤡
loving the astoundingly stupid “I’m trying to banter with him but I think it keeps just sounding like an insult” dynamic that opla!Zoro and Sanji have going on. Definitely looking forward to the sequel, “I’m trying to flirt with him but I think it keeps just sounding like I’m messing with him”
The thing is. The thing is. I really love thinking about how Mihawk comes off as really serious, with his perfect manners and his stoic demeanor. How he is so unapproachable, and seems to thrive in keeping people at an arms' length.
But. At the same time. He's not like that. We know he must not be like that. And I live to think about these little very human moments a very select few must have been privy to. Like, Perona knowing he has atrocious hair in the mornings. Zoro knowing that Mihawk’s coat gives him the most stupid tan lines. Shanks knowing the difference between Mihawk sarcastically tearing someone to shreds and him being sarcastic as his way to make a joke. Benn knowing, much to his regret, exactly the kind of look mihawk gives Shanks when he's trying to entice him for some alone time. It works like a charm. Mihawk thinks he's very subtle. He's not.
OPLA Incorrect quotes
Nami: You know you can die from that, right?
Sanji: [smoking a cigarette] That’s the point.
Zoro: [drinking alcohol] We’re trying to speed this up.
Luffy: [Eating raw cookie dough and nodding]
Nami: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?
Buggy: i used no more tears shampoo as a child and i havent felt a single sane emotion since.
Luffy: I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the blood's supposed to be.
Helmeppo: [Bullying Luffy]
Zoro, later: [accidentally hits Helmeppo with his car]
Helmeppo: You hit me with your car!!!
Zoro: You hit my car with your body.
Luffy: It kind of feels like you’re prioritizing work over our friendship.
Nami: Because I barely know you?
Luffy: Fine, message received.
Zoro: You make me so angry so quickly. It’s remarkable.
Buggy/Sanji: I literally only said 6 words.
Zoro: Yet here I am, boiling with hate.
Luffy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.
Nami: Wasn’t Usopp with you?
Usopp: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.
Shanks: can you imagine not being human and just living out your days as a weeping willow, though? beautiful? by the water? unburdened? ideal.
Mihawk: i wanna be the one from harry potter that beats the shit out of everyone and everything.
Random Pirate: I cant stand you
Mihawk: Then kneel
Iñaki and Taz have the best bromance