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fanaticsnail · 10 months

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Mistletoe - Straw-Hat Christmas Special

Masterlist link FanaticSnail here, SordidMusings here Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and Happy Mistletoe Kisses. Song Suggestion: Snowman - Sia

Word count: 7,000+

Warnings: Fluff, Mistletoe, GenderNeutral!Reader (written by afab!collab!author), kissing, pining, unhinged photoshop.

Beta-Read and Collab with the ever gorgeous, stunning and beautiful @sordidmusings.

Clutching the small sprig of emerald leaves and small circular blossoms tightly within your left hand, you reached down to the bench where you last left your scissors to clasp them within your right fingertips. The tan-coloured twine within your mouth scratched at your tongue and lips as you held the string tightly between your teeth, brow low and focussed in your concentration.

You pressed your left hand within the air, your crouched position becoming slightly uneven and shaken as you attempted to maneuver yourself in your perch.

After seeing the bushels and sprigs of festive greenery from your homeland, you knew you wanted to introduce this part of your seasonal culture to your crew: the Straw-Hat pirates.

Mistletoe-kisses. The tradition first begun by the mother of your cultural and historical deities as she held her dying child within her arms, wistfully memorialising his memory with sweet endearing affection beneath the object that claimed his life. Poetic, dramatic, beautiful and romantic; the four combinations you so desired to introduce to your pirate companions as you started decorating the banisters and rudders. The beautiful branches were woven so intricately within the scraps of twine you managed to fasten around them.

“Woah, honey,” you heard the familiar feminine voice call from behind you as you continued to wabble on your position perched against the blue kitchen benchtop, “let me give you a hand.”

“Yesh preesh,” you managed to squeak out from your clenched jaw, welcoming Nami’s assistance with her hands steadying your hips from behind you. With the additional stability, you managed to wrap the twine from within your mouth around the sprigs, snip the cords with the scissors and successfully secure the sprigs with more ease.

Sighing with glee, you brought your hands down to rest atop your orange-haired companion; allowing her assistance to dwindle further against your hips as she aided your decline from the benchtop.

“What are you doing, anyway?” she asked as you turned to face her, remaining close in your proximity, “I’ve seen you skulking around the ship with the branches and tying them up against the-,” she halted her words as she glanced up to the ceiling, her train of thought falling silent as her smile broadened against her pale face with a glow of pink warmth falling to the apples of her cheeks.

“-Mistletoe,” she breathed out with a large sigh, the warmth rising to your own chest, cheeks and ears in bashful hesitancy. Her eyes fell from her gaze at the sprigs to search your eyes with her own. Her broadened grin and softened eyes twinkling with mischief searched yours, as your own reflected a similar playful mirror against her gaze.

“Yes it is,” you nodded your head, eyes drawing to the floor with your teeth pulling your bottom lip between them with your heart beating faster within your chest. “Are you aware of the tradition?” you asked her, trailing your eyes coyly back upwards to meet with her own.

You heard footsteps approaching the kitchen entranceway, but paid them no mind as Nami brought her hand against your cheek with her nose scrunched in a playful smile. You placed the twine and the scissors down against the blue-coloured kitchen counter while your gaze held firm against her own.

“I am fully aware,” she teased you with her tone, “and now that you’ve caught me in your little trap, I suppose you’d like a kiss?”

Your lips pulled outwards further to widen the enthusiastic grin into your cheeks, allowing her to lead you by your cheek to draw you into her embrace . Falling your hands against her hips, she drew her other hand up to cradle your neck as she drew her lips to graze against your own.

Her lips were soft and warm, the taste of tangerines and cinnamon from the tart Sanji had made for the crew’s afternoon tea lingered against her lips. The both of your eyes fluttered shut, you drawing her closer to your body by her hips and raking your hands over her lower back to cradle her against you securely. She smiled into the kiss, her head tilting as she parted her lips gently to deepen the caress of her lips against your own.

She slowly moved her hands from your face to circle behind your neck to secure the embrace further as you engaged each other beneath the mistletoe.

Footsteps halted with a large thud, followed by the vocalizations to alert you of disruptive attention to break your silent and intimate moment with the navigator.

“Oh, what the fuck-,” a gruff voice uttered lowly.

“-Merde,” a whisper followed closely behind.

Nami and you broke away your lips, still holding yourselves in the warm embrace of one another. A small warmness rose itself to the both of your cheeks, followed by a small giggle of mischievousness at your crewmen’s responses to your current state.

Being the first to pull away from you, Nami made her way over to the swordsman and the chef at the doorway; leaving you to collect the twine and scissors from their place atop the kitchen counter.

“What d-did we-,” Sanji’s voice attempted to squeak out, his vocal chords failing him in their articulation of his thoughts, “y-you, the two of you-, you-u b-both-,” he gulped back his words a small fine bead of sweat pooling from his brow as Nami approached him.

“Kissing?” Nami arched her brow up with a playful grin atop her partially swollen lips. Sanji nodded frantically with his eyes widening in surprise.

Zoro shook his head and made his way over to approach the sink behind where you were standing, his hands firmly securing a glass to fill water to the brim within. He grunted at you as you darted your tongue out to trace your lower swollen lip with a mischievous smirk again pulling at your lips.

She looked once more to seek out your gaze with her own; suggesting playfully, “feel free to educate these two on the tradition, I’m sure at least one of them has never heard of it.”

Nami giggled at Sanji’s rising blush against his cheeks and nose, shaking her head while pushing past him to maneuver her body behind his and giving him a gentle push towards you.

“Bonus points if you manage to get them both under it together,” her giggle prompted a blush to flush completely against your cheeks before loud laughter rose within your chest at her suggestion, shaking your head and bundling your crafting objects within your hands.

You opened the drawer below the kitchen counter, placing the scissors and twine within the vacant wooden box and shutting it back in a swift movement. Feeling a presence beside you, the warmth falling from his bare arm against your own, he hunched himself against the bench frame.

Sighing with a smile again falling to your face, you turned to meet with the hazelnut-coloured gaze of the green-haired swordsman.

“Zoro,” you shook your head at him and clicked your tongue, “you shouldn’t have come over here. Now you have no choice but to participate in the tradition.”

His brows furrowed into a frown at your words, questioning, “Tradition?”

You anchored your chin upwards to gesture to the sprigs of florals and leaves attached against the bannisters of the kitchen.

“There’s a few origins of this particular tradition,” you began, the swordsman’s eyes falling back to your own as more footsteps began falling within the dining room and kitchen: Usopp, Luffy and Nami returning to the kitchen with a grin attached firmly against the orange-haired navigator’s lips.

“Go on,” Zoro commanded you in his gruff voice.

“Well, the long and short of it,” you began with a shrug of your shoulders, “is if you find yourself beneath the branches of mistletoe, well,” your index finger traced along the wooden countertop to ghost themselves against the tips of Zoro’s fingers, “you kiss.”

Your eyes searched his own, his left brow arching up as he questioned you, “Why, though?”

“There’s a few origins around the east blue,” you began, “one was introduced as a custom at weddings, mainly because they drew comparisons with the white flowers to-, uh-, male fertility if you follow my intention.”

A blush almost graced the face of the swordsman at the reference he followed with your words, a slow blink ridding the hue from his face.

“Another was to offer a ceasefire in war,” you continued, your fingers now brushing the outer forearm and traveling upwards to rise to his shoulder, “reconciliation and peace between enemies at the receiving end of a branch, lips meeting in surrender.”

He hummed in response, his eyes briefly gracing your trailing fingertips before falling back to your own.

“And why do you, personally, choose to follow the tradition?” he asked you, brows furrowing before a small grin rose to his lips, “peace, reconciliation, or fertility?”

Your voice caught within your throat, his words halting your movements as your eyes widened at his suggestion.

“None, in truth,” you whispered, your eyes searching his again by darting your gaze between his woody-hues, “to me and those like me; the tale follows the goddess of old. She introduced the kiss as a memorial to her fallen and beloved son; who perished under an arrow crafted from the sprigs of the branches and white flowers.”

“I carry this tradition as a reminder that we are all mortal and may perish at any time,” your hand drew itself against the swordsman’s shoulder, his chin tilting down to glance at your hand once more. He turned to face his broad chest towards you, his hand tracing the back of your own in a small, dancing and timid caress.

“That,” you smiled with a slight glint of mischief falling to your eyes, “and ensnaring the lot of you throughout the ship seemed like a fun idea at the time.”

“Well,” Zoro shrugged with a small shy smile drawing itself to his lips, glancing once again upwards at the mistletoe above the two of you, “what kind of swordsman would I be if I was to shy away from a reminder of my mortality?” his gaze fell low to your eyes once more, a broader smile falling now to his face, uttering a simple: “Come here.”

A squeak fled from your mouth as Zoro circled his arm around your neck and drew you against his broad chest, lips colliding in a dance of dominance with the green-haired swordsman. Your eyes remained wide as you witnessed him furrow his brows with a sharp inhale through his nose, feeling the warmth and passion falling from his chapped and coarse lips. You placed your hands gently against the exposed chest of the swordsman beneath his opened collar, still falling in momentary surprise at the unwithheld expression in front of the crew.

Your fingertips trailed absent-mindedly along the silver-tipped healed scar embellishing his broad chest, your eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his chin upwards and raised his right hand to cradle your cheek. His broad and widened fingertips wove themselves within your hair behind your head. A small hum fell from the lips of the swordsman as he was the first to pull himself away from your lips, resting his forehead against your own.

“Thank you for the reminder,” he whispered against your face, a small blush flushing his cheeks before he pulled away from your embrace and reclaimed his waterglass in his hands once again.

You giggled, giving Zoro a gentle tap on his shoulder before turning around to draw yourself your own water-glass and taking a small shaken sip as you processed the haste of collecting kisses from two of your crewmen with ease. Nami and Zoro, the two of the Straw-Hat pirates you would assume would be the most difficult to ensnare, were the first recipients of your cultural tradition.

You spun on your heel to see the three remaining members of your crew; Luffy holding a broad smile against his cheeks with his eyes upturned with a mischievous glimmer.

“What a nice tradition,” he exclaimed with a light huff of his chest, his hands falling to his hips before looking at Sanji, “Now, can we eat?”

“Aye, Captain,” Sanji’s voice chimed in, his eyes wide as he gawked at your place next to the swordsman beside you, “any requests?”

“Meat,” Luffy smiled broadly, “and lots of it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he chuckled, rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbow as he marched over towards the sink.

You ducked your body away from beneath the mistletoe’s snare, prompting Sanji to shoot you a small wink as he brushed his way past you. You noticed he seemed to be lingering beneath the small bushel as he began commencing preparations to adhere to his Captain’s request. You giggled a little, shaking your head at the chef’s wordless flirtation before turning to see Usopp with his eyes wide, staring at you as he stumbled backwards.

“H-hey there,” he started, his voice stuttering as his attention continued to be drawn on you, “uh, how many of those things did you say you hid around here again?”

You giggled with a small arch of your left brow.

“Oh, great Captain Usopp,” you began to prowl as a hunter against their prey, a broad smile rising to your lips, “the ship is simply riddled with mistletoe.”

He chuckled nervously as he continued backing away from your descent towards him.

“A-and what happens if you don’t kiss beneath it, again?” his heart began to hammer within his chest with a drum-like rapidity, to which he was certain everyone could hear its intense beat.

“Oh, Usopp,” you sighed at him, cocking your head to the side with your hands laced behind your back, “I’m afraid bad luck and unspeakable horrors will haunt you to the very ends of your days.”

Usopp’s throat became overwhelmed by the sense of peril, his breath hitching within his mouth as his eyes widened further.

“That,” you continued with a small nod of your head, “and I would be incredibly offended.”

He shrugged off his shoulders with a small rotation and a huff of his breath, nodding at you as he processed your words.

“Okay then,” he nodded with a small, down-turned smile, “let’s do it.”

Your eyes widened as he began his descent towards you in a deep stoop; yourself leaning backwards in response to his tumble towards your lips.

“Usopp, stop,” you ordered him, him halting immediately in his actions as his brows twitched into a small frown. You huffed a small laugh and gestured above your head, indicating for him to look above his head.

“There’s nothing there, sharp-shooter,” you giggled, “there’s no need for a kiss, at least at this stage.”

He relinquished a small laugh from within his throat as a blush rose itself to his cheeks in embarrassment.

“Oh, I see,” he commented with a swaying nod, “so it’s only when you’re directly beneath the branch that you kiss. I got it.”

You clapped a hand atop his shoulder in support, your thumb caressing small circles in reassurance to smooth over his minor embarrassment. He raised his own hand up to squeeze his fingertips against your outer wrist, acknowledging and appreciating your gesture with a small, crooked grin.

“I mean,” you shrugged, withdrawing your hand from his shoulder, “you could always run away?”

“The great Captain Usopp running away from a fight?” he snickered, “oh, I would never.”

You both laughed whole-heartedly at the comment, you pulling Usopp into you by circling your arm over his shoulders and leading him back into the kitchen while Sanji continued preparing the meal.

Sanji’s gaze would continue to flutter towards you, whether intentionally or subconsciously, throughout the evening meal as the crew partook it together. His dwindling smile would rise and fall, questions unspoken remaining behind his lips to not depart from his pierced tongue.

“So once you kiss beneath it once, does that mean you’re safe in that zone from another one? Like the bad luck and horrors won’t get you if you’ve already kissed beneath it” Usopp rose his question up as he reached for a baked roll.

“Oh, Usopp,” you laughed at him, “try not to overthink it.”

You passed him the ceramic dish containing a knob of whipped butter, him nodding to you and taking it from your outstretched hands.

“It’s meant to be a bit of fun, nothing serious,” you informed him with a tone of reassurance.

You all concluded your meal engaging in questions regarding other aspects of cultural traditions: Sanji and Luffy primarily focussing on cuisine practices over holiday periods while the chef’s descriptors of the food had all of your mouths watering in anticipation and longing.

After the meal had come to an end, Sanji began expertly stacking dishes within his arms and bringing them to the sink. You smiled warmly at the blonde chef, his own warmth rising to his face as he darted his eyes between your two orbs.

“Who’s on first watch tonight?” Zoro’s voice cut through the air, your attention falling to his form at the dinner table.

“I believe it’s mine, swordsman,” you informed him with a nod, rising to your feet, “thank you for the meal, chef. It was as wonderful as always.”

“You’re most welcome, beautiful,” his nose scrunched at the bridge with a smile rising upwards to bare his pearled teeth to you.

Turning to walk on your way exiting the kitchen, you turned to land your eyes back to your crew; pausing for a moment to commit the sight to memory. The evening had a warmth from the sea air, the scents of the meals mixing beautifully with the cleaning products Sanji began to fill the sink with.

Your captain sighed in contentment, patting his stomach with praises of his own aimed at the chef. Laughter from Nami and Usopp, alongside the small smirk rising to the Zoro’s lips had you sighing in adoration. Nodding at the scene laying before you, you again turned to make your way back outward to begin your watch.

After your peaceful and lengthy watch concluded, you travelled below decks to meet with Usopp; the secondary watch for the evening to inform him of the lack of events that fell upon the night. He nodded to your words, his arms stretching upwards cracking his back in an arched shape.

“I’m sorry second watch has to be you today,” you winced out in pity, “it’s always the roughest, watching the sun rise as you only had a few hours sleep yourself is exceptionally difficult.”

“I agree,” he nodded his head with a small, tight-lipped smile, “it’s not my favourite, that’s for sure.”

You giggled, cupping his shoulder in response and giving it a small squeeze.

“Now, go get some rest,” he ordered you in a low tone, you nodding and stretching in a similar manner he did moments ago; your chin drawing upwards to the ceiling as your eyes remained closed.

Reopening your tired eyes, your sights met with the familiar small beads of the mistletoe you had forgotten you placed within the crew-quarter corridor; just as Usopp stepped outwards to draw himself into the hallway to begin his watch.

“Usopp,” you whispered, reclaiming the attention of the sharp-shooter, “look up.”

His eyes rose to the ceiling, widening as his gaze located the haunting florals amongst the emerald leaves.

“Wh-what does that-,” his words were halted as you placed a small, lazy kiss against the apple of his cheek. You hummed against his cheek briefly, your lips curling upwards into a smile before withdrawing your lips from his smooth skin.

“That should be enough to satisfy the bad luck and unspeakable horrors for now,” you smirked at him with half-lidded, glazed and tired eyes, “until the morrow, Great Captain Usopp.”

You offered him a lazy two-fingered salute before you turned away from him to begin your journey to your own crew-quarters; only for your actions to be halted by a firm grip within the crook of your elbow. Tugging lightly on your inner arm, your body rotated in a twirl once again to fall beneath the mistletoe with Usopp, his own eyes half-lidded as he drew you towards himself.

“I think a little more might be needed to halt their advance,” he grinned at you, falling his lips against your own in the dimly lit hallway.

You sighed against his warm lips, your arms raising to lazily circle behind his neck to hold his embrace firmly against your own. Your fingers brushed his hair, your fingers weaving against his scalp and lightly raking it under your tired grip. He fell his hands to your hips before dragging them against your lower back, drawing your hips inwards to hold them flush against his own.

Gasping against his lips, you again hummed in response to his open-lipped advance on you as he anchored his chin down to release your lips from his entanglement; his forehead pressing gently against your own brow.

“They’re satisfied now, I think,” Usopp commented with a small whispered sigh.

“And it’s all thanks to the Great Captain Usopp,” you whispered your praise in return, withdrawing your arms from his neck and he in turn unlacing his arms from circling your waist.

You waved him a good night as you again turned on your way towards your quarters to begin your much needed rest to prepare yourself for another day aboard the Going Merry with your crew of misfits.

Shrugging off your clothes for the evening, you placed your shoes neatly by the front door and scuttled into the warmth of your plush duvet atop your suspended bed. The chains attached to the ceiling rattled slightly as you rolled into a more comfortable position; your eyes closing as you released a small giddy giggle. You managed to capture three of your crewmen beneath the mistletoe within the first day, and you could not wait to draw in the remaining two with a friendly kiss.

Sleep welcomed you into its awaiting arms, the energy slipping from you as you fell into its embrace before welcoming the rays of the dawn through your curtained bay window. Sitting up in your bed, you allowed the sheets to fall from your torso as the duvet fell to your waist. Arms raised in an arched stretch, you thought back on the three, technically four, kisses you had shared with your crewmen the day before. Nami felt so soft against you, her femininity and playful charm held you captive as you both giggled against one another’s lips.

Zoro was rough, his lips chapped and dominant with the same amount of playful energy Nami had presented you with. Both of them held you so strongly cradled against their torsos, whereas Usopp’s embrace was slow and deliberate. The way he held you, his hands falling to your hips and lower back was foreign; you truly taking charge of that exchange.

A giggle once again fell to your lips as you threw the duvet from your lower body, stepping out to fall your bare feet to the wooden floorboards.

While adorning your sleepwear, you collected several new clothes for the day; setting to take a small dip beneath the warm rainfall of the Going Merry’s shower before commencing breakfast with the Straw-Hat crew.

You placed your slippers upon your feet, walking with a spring in your step down the hallway towards the bathroom. The sizzle of frying foods and bubbles of rapid boiling were the sounds echoing into your ears, their origins falling to the kitchen where Sanji was currently awake and preparing food for the crew.

“That poor boy never sleeps,” you whispered with a forlorn expression rising to your brows. You shook your head, your hand falling to the brass handle of the bathroom door and clicking the latch open with your thumb.

As you opened the door, your eyes immediately widened as your vision met with the dressed down version of your captain: white towel clung to his hips, his dark curls littered with glimmering droplets falling to the ends of his locks, toothbrush in hand as he vigorously scrubbed at his broad smile.

“Mfph!” he smiled with his toothbrush hanging from his lips, “guhd mmrh-nng!”

Held frozen in place, you witnessed your captain finish brushing his teeth; relinquishing the peppermint suds from his lips by rinsing his mouth with the cool water from the sink.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked you, placing his toothbrush back onto the counter beside the toothpaste, “How was your watch? I bet it was pretty boring, but thanks for doing it anyway. You know-.”

He brushed his hands over the towel clasped against his hips, you continuing to remain frozen in place as your eyes screamed at you to not look any lower than his own caramel orbs. You were not accustomed to seeing your captain in such a way. Exposure of his chest was one thing, but the way the towel hung so loosely from his hips was not something you were familiar with.

“-I really enjoy how you’re sharing your customs with the crew,” he nodded while walking over to your position at the door, “it’s nice.” You gulped in a dry mouthful of collected saliva, your wide eyes blinking with a slow joining of your lashes.

“Oh, here’s one!” he suddenly chimed in with a cheery grin, “look up,” he chuckled with a broad smile, his right hand falling beneath your chin to angle your wide eyes upwards. Innocently hanging from the doorframe of the entrance to the bathroom, the green petals taunting you amongst the white clusters of soft bulbs.

“I don’t remember putting one there,” you muttered quietly beneath your breath. Angling your chin down to meet again with the caramel eyes of your captain, his irises twinkling with a glimmer of mischief.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he murmured, his face inching all the more closely towards your own, “I may have moved some of them-,” he scrunched his nose, brushing it against your own in a small, playful caress, “-I can’t let you have all the fun.”

Holding your chin firmly, he drew you in to capture your lips with his own. He tasted of peppermint toothpaste, his lips curling into a small smile as he hummed against your lips. Your hands instinctively flew to his dark curls, lacing your fingertips against his scalp and holding him firmly against your body.

He leant forwards, dropping your chin from his grasp and opting to lace them behind your back and pull you in for a light squeeze, lifting you into the air with ease. You squeaked out a small tone of surprise at the motion, his lips giggling against yours as he spun you within the air; gasps falling from the two of you as he replanted your feet onto the ground.

He closed his lips against yours, withdrawing a little before pressing one more chaste kiss against your lips.

“Good luck finding the rest,” he whispered, his eyes half-lidded with a small chuckle falling from his lips as he unwove himself from around you, “I’m gonna keep them up, I think. It’s a healthy team-building exercise.”

He scrunched his nose one last time, exiting the bathroom doorframe and turning one last time to look at you. His hand wove around the brass door handle, pulling it closed with a small wink falling from the eye atop his scarred cheek.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a breath you didn’t think you were holding within your chest, hand falling back to clutch the sink and bearing the brunt of your weight against the porcelain surface.

“That was,” you whispered, drawing your other hand up to rake your fingers through your hair, “a little more than I expected from him.”

You turned to look in the cloudy mirror, gazing into your own eyes with a wide grin.

“Four down, one to go,” you giggled before your laughter fell from your lips eclipsed by a perplexed frown, “and the last one was truly who I thought would be the easiest to convince to adhere to the little tradition.”

After you completed your shower, you joined the crew for breakfast; merriment and laughter falling from your lips as the crew spoke again about the traditions of their own cultures. Your eyes travelled around the rigging of the deck of the ship, noticing several sprigs of mistletoe you had tied against the bannisters had mysteriously disappeared: no doubt your captain making true on his earlier statement of moving the sprigs and twine around the ship to hold you equally as susceptible to fall beneath the trap as the rest of the crew.

Your emptied plate was collected from in front of you, the bare forearms of the blonde chef drawing down to claim the plate. His sleeves were once again rolled to the crook of his elbow, the relinquishment of his regular formality drew a warm smile to your face.

“Thank you, Sanji,” you praised him in thanks, folding your hands into your lap to make it easier for him to collect the items before you, “your skilled hands never cease to amaze me.”

A warm blush drew itself to his nose and cheeks, the blonde locks falling further to shield his eyes from you. You turned your sights to the orange-haired navigator who shot you a playful taunting expression, her eyebrow raising with her chin gesturing to the chef.

“Him next?” she wordlessly depicted her question with her lips. You nodded in response, biting your lip as you watched her search the deck with a perplexed expression.

You followed her gaze, noticing the lack of mistletoe adorning the area that you painstakingly attached to the wood the day before. You furrowed your brows, noticing a trail of sprigs falling against the top mast of the crows nest.

“Well done, Luffy,” you whispered in awe, staring at the sprigs; the chef halting his collection of food-smeared plates to follow your eyes. He chuckled once his gaze fell to the floral arrangement hanging from the flag above the crows nest.

The crew began to rise from their seated positions around the external table, all dispersing to complete their various roles around the ship: leaving Zoro behind as he reclined against one of the wooden benchtops, closing his eyes with his arms supporting his head. As you stood from the table, your eyes trailed once again to the top mast of the ship, squinting to get a better look at the arrangement with your right hand rising to your brow to shield the morning rays of the sun from your vision.

“So,” a voice murmured from behind you, prompting you to turn to welcome the chef back above deck, “is there a distance rule for the mistletoe-?” his smirk pulled at the right hand corner of his mouth, “-or would it still count if I just-?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up into his strong arms and walking you to the tall, wooden pillar supporting the roped ladder leading upwards to the look out. A giggle rose within your chest as your back was pressed against the smooth wood, Sanji’s forehead resting in the crook of your neck. He chuckled against your shoulder before withdrawing his face from your skin and gazing into your eyes.

“I think there’s a distance rule here,” you giggled at him, gesturing with your chin up towards the roof. The view of the mistletoe was now obscured by the base of the crows nest, the wooden planks falling within view now rather than the cluster of leaves and flowers.

Sanji let out a small groan in frustration, his smirk falling from his lips as he placed your feet back onto the ground.

“And here I thought I was being clever,” he breathily laughed at himself, scrunching up his nose and relinquishing his hold on your waist, “another time, then?”

You nodded with a small blush rising to your cheeks, watching his descent back below deck as his shoulders almost seemed to slump in defeat. You furrowed your brows in a small amount of pity before walking over to sit by Zoro, pulling out your journal and beginning cataloguing and annotating a variety of drawn flora and fauna.

You felt a shift beside you, two tanned fingers tugging down the middle of your journal. You furrowed your brows, tilting your head up and having your lips immediately met by the green-haired swordsman’s. Widening your eyes and gasping in surprise, you placed the book in your lap and raised your hand upwards to cradle his cheek against your palm.

He broke his lips from your own, a smirk rising against his lips as he tilted his chin up to the ceiling, uttering a small: “Mistletoe.”

Glancing up at the ceiling, there was a bundle of mistletoe adorning the railing above your seated position beside him. A giggle rose in your chest, the swordsman choosing to lay down once more; this time his head falling to your lap and closing his eyes.

“Excuse you?” you chastised him, “When did I say it was okay to lay there?”

“You didn’t,” he grunted, a soft smile rising to his lips. “Can I just lay here a while?”

“Fine,” you sighed with a shake of your head, reclaiming the book you placed down and continuing your work within the folds of your leather-bound journal. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your thighs beneath his head as he fell into a blissful slumber under the morning sun.

This is how the following week seemed to go: all of the members of the Straw-Hat crew managed to claim kisses from your lips, cheek and forehead beneath the mistletoe; you in turn offering the same. That was all except, it should seem, the blonde-haired chef had yet to have the opportunity to claim a kiss from anyone, nor receive one in return. And your heart broke for his poor, romantic soul.

You twirled the fine sprigs of withering florals within your fingertips, interweaving the branches into one another and fastening them with a small amount of twine as necessary.

Each kiss you shared with Nami felt as soft and as playful as the first, the taste of her lips against yours feeling sweet and as warm as the sun that welcomed you into the day. Luffy’s were always incredibly mischievous, his lips often catching you off guard as you went about your duties aboard the ship. Usopp was always shy, his kisses feeling like a hidden and apprehensive confession of childhood romance with all of the giddy feelings coinciding with them. Zoro’s lips were dominant, passionate and sometimes lazy; much akin to his attitude and practices with his tri-wielding swordsmanship.

Yet, you had yet to taste the lips of the beloved chef aboard the Going Merry. He eluded you unintentionally, as he did the other members of the Straw-Hat pirates. Sanji had yet to sample the tradition you had so graciously introduced to the crew, and it was devastating for you to witness.

Interweaving the final strands of the mistletoe, you nodded your head in satisfaction with a broad smile stitched against your face. Rising to your feet, you began your descent towards the kitchen where you knew the chef would be hiding away; elbows deep within the suds infused dishwater.

And that’s where he was, hunched over and clasping one of the many mugs within his left hand and scrubbing the ceramic edge with his right. His focussed grip never let up, twirling the object around as a dance within his palm as he hummed a sweet song through his nose. The filter end of a cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he remained blissfully unaware of your approach, placing the cleaned mug within the drying rack to the side of the deep sink.

“A pretty melody, Chef,” you uttered your compliments, prompting Sanji’s shoulders to rise stiff and rigid.

“Thank you,” he squeaked out in surprise, removing the plug from the sink to relinquish the murky contents from within it. He rinsed his hands with a small stream of water falling from the tap, drying them on the hanging hand towel below the countertop.

You coyly approached the chef, the woven object clutched lovingly within your palms. You bit your bottom lip.

“I hope you don’t mind my forwardness,” you began, a blush rising to your cheeks as you thumbed the object within your hands, “but at this stage-,” your eyes glanced upwards to meet with the ever widening eyes of the tall, blonde in front of you; “-desperate times call for desperate measures, Sanji.”

His eyes travelled to the object within your hands, noticing the circle of green and white florals clutched within your grasp. Mistletoe interwoven with sprigs of pine, fine branches and twine creating a beautiful and sweet crown of florals was your circlet of adoration.

“I-Is that for you?” Sanji stuttered, a small blush rising to his cheeks, “just for me to have the honour of upholding your tradition?”

You shook your head, raising the object to hover above his head; “it’s not for me, sweetheart,” you whispered with a small flush of warmth dusting your nose and cheeks, “it’s for you.”

His breath caught within his throat, eyes widening further and brimming with a small air of bittersweet sorrow. He closed his eyes and nodded his head lower, enabling you to place the crown of flowers atop his head before you circled your arms around his neck.

Tugging down the scruff of his neck, you joined your lips against his in a slow, deliberate and passionate dance of adoration. You felt him relax into your hold, his arms falling to your hips to anchor you against himself. A sigh departed from his lips as he opened his mouth to receive more of your romantic entanglement as your tongue darted out to meet his in a gentle caress.

A small gasp of surprise fell from your lips as you felt a small metal object located beneath his tongue, attached firmly in front of his lingual frenulum. He smiled against your lips, folding his arms further around you to hold you flush against his torso; swaying you slightly as he expressed his joy of finally being included in your cultural tradition.

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips, trailing them lower to press your hands against his chest to trace the collar of his shirt down to his tie. Tilting his head and angling his chin down, he deepened the kiss further; the two of you blissfully unaware of the presence leant against the doorframe as you clutched desperately within the arms of one another.

“Please,” a sarcastic voice called from the doorway, the gruff guttural energy falling from the swordsman’s vocal registry in waves, “don’t stop on my account. If you could just move over so I can get to the fridge, I’d appreciate it.”

You both sprung from each other’s arms, a flush of embarrassment at being caught at such an intimate exchange of passion rising to your cheeks.

Zoro chuckled, winking lazily at you while brushing shoulders with the chef. Your eyes widened further as you watched Zoro fall dangerously close to Sanji, whose blonde hair was framed so beautifully by the mistletoe crown in the light of the kitchen window. Zoro opened the fridge, retrieved a brown-stained glass bottle from within and turned back around to face the two of you.

“These twist top?” Zoro questioned Sanji, who shook his head in response. Zoro grunted and approached the chef in two strong strides, uttering, “Then get out of the way of the drawer so I can get to the bottle opener.”

“Zoro,” you gasped in surprise, alerting your two crewmen to their current proximity, "Zoro, the mistletoe.”

Both Zoro and Sanji’s eyes widened at your direction, both looking to the crown atop Sanji’s head before their orbs met each other’s: rage and humiliation befalling them both as their tempers rose within their close proximity.

“Idiot chef-,” Zoro began, Sanji’s voice cutting through the air.

“-stupid moss-head,” the chef growled.

“Boys,” you addressed them both, their eyes again snapping to your own. You chuckled at them both, shaking your head with a mischievous grin rising to your swollen lips; “it was used as a ceasefire once, perhaps it can be again?”

Zoro’s lip curled upwards in a small snarl, Sanji’s brows falling into a low frown.

“Forever haunted by unspeakable horrors if you don’t go through with the tradition,” you teased them both in a melodic tone, “and I would be incredibly offended.”

A small, tense air fell between the three of you. Tensions and tempers continue to fester and boil between the two men, both weighing up the consequences in choosing to follow through with your warning.

“Fine-,” Zoro growled out, turning to face the blonde chef.

“Wait, what-,” Sanji managed to stutter out before Zoro hooked his forearm around the blonde’s shoulders and drew him into his chest; the chef’s lips meeting with the swordsman’s in a hard and dominant exchange of fierce intensity. Your eyes widened as a giggle fell from your lips; Sanji’s shocked expression against Zoro’s angered brow drawing hilarity in their comparison to the red hue rising to adorn their cheeks with a light flush. Breaking away as quickly as their exchange began, Zoro flicked the tip of the crown atop Sanji’s head; the floral arrangement falling away from the chef’s brow to litter the floor with a splay of leaves and flowers.

“Zoro, my hard work!” you cried out, the smile still atop your lips as you stepped forward to collect the leaves.

“Just making sure I don’t have to do that again,” Zoro growled, a smirk falling to his lips as he reached behind the stunned chef to gather the bottle opener from the drawer behind him.

“Like I’d ever let you, Marimo,” Sanji spat back at him, walking himself over to the sink to collect a tall glass to place beneath the tap of the sink.

You collected the leaves and reworked the crown in a huff, interlacing the twine again to collect the sprigs and flowers within the circlet. You laughed, finally satisfied with your ability to collect passionate exchanges from all of your beloved crew.

“Thank you, boys,” you sighed, rising again to your feet and glancing at the chef and the swordsman, “I appreciate you adhering to my cultural tradition.”

“Of course, love,” Sanji smiled at you, raising his glass of water to his lips.

“Thanks for sharing it,” Zoro nodded to you, swigging from the cool, amber liquid within the brown bottle.