✎mihawk x kelton
♦︎fic type: one-shot, fic-trade
♦︎ summary: after three failed attempts at taking mihawk on a date, kelton finally manages to get mihawk on a date. with the intention to show mihawk that he's serious about his feeling.
♦︎word count: 2.3k
♦︎warnings: None
♦︎a/n: this is part of a fic trade done with @loganwritesprobably, As you can see I kinda carried away but I'm really proud of this, I hope I did Kelton justice and I hope you enjoy it all the same!
The wine-red sky stretched over the horizon, casting a warm, molten glow on the vast ocean below. The waves lapped gently at the sides of the boat, a modest but elegant vessel with polished wood and billowing sails. Kelton stood at the bow, his black hair tousled by the salty breeze, a glint of gold piercing catching the fading light. His mischievous brown eyes scanned the horizon as he hummed a tune under his breath, his tall frame leaning casually against the railing.
Kelton was a man of many talents, but patience was rarely one of them. Yet, tonight was different. Tonight, he had every reason to wait. The air was thick with anticipation, a subtle excitement thrumming in his veins. The boat rocked gently as he adjusted his stance, glancing back toward the cabin where Mihawk was likely brooding, perhaps contemplating the wisdom of agreeing to this outing.
A sly grin tugged at the corners of Kelton’s mouth. He’d finally done it. After three failed attempts, Dracule Mihawk, the most feared swordsman in all the seas, had agreed to a date. And not just any date—Kelton had meticulously planned an evening that even the stoic Mihawk might find difficult to resist.
As if on cue, Mihawk emerged from the cabin, his expression as unreadable as ever. His piercing yellow eyes locked onto Kelton’s warm brown ones, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Kelton could feel the weight of that gaze, the scrutiny that would unnerve any lesser man. But Kelton was no ordinary man. “Enjoying the view?” Mihawk’s voice was smooth, carrying a hint of dry amusement.
Kelton’s grin widened. “Only half as much as I’m about to enjoy our little adventure, love.” He pushed off the railing with a fluid motion, sauntering over to Mihawk with the easy confidence of a man who was rarely, if ever, denied what he wanted. Mihawk raised a single eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Kelton’s swagger. “You speak as though this evening holds more than just an outing.”
“Oh, it holds much more, indeed,” Kelton quipped, his voice dripping with playful innuendo. He circled Mihawk slowly, his movements deliberate, as if sizing up his prey. “But I wouldn’t dream of ruining the surprise. After all, where’s the fun in that?” Mihawk’s gaze remained steady, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or mild irritation.
The island Kelton chose was nothing short of breathtaking. A hidden gem nestled within the Grand Line, it was renowned for its picturesque landscapes and sunsets that could make even the most hardened hearts falter. It was a place of serenity, where the chaos of the world seemed to pause, allowing nature's beauty to take center stage. As you step off the ship and onto the soft sand, the air is filled with the scent of saltwater and blooming flowers, carried by the gentle breeze that whispers through the towering palms.
Kelton, with his usual swagger, leads the way, his long strides making it almost impossible for anyone of average height to keep up, let alone Mihawk. Yet, the swordsman moves with his signature grace, his eyes observing every detail of their surroundings with a calm, discerning gaze. The vibrant greenery, the distant hum of wildlife, and the sound of waves gently lapping against the shore all contribute to an ambiance that feels almost too perfect. It’s a place out of time, a retreat from the battles and skirmishes that define their lives. "Lovely, isn't it?" Kelton remarks, glancing back at Mihawk with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. His voice carries a playful lilt, as though he’s well aware of the grandeur of his choice. "Figured you could use a bit of a break from all the sword-slashing and brooding."
Mihawk, ever the stoic, merely raises an eyebrow in response, though there’s a slight softening in his usual stern expression. “It’s… suitable.” Kelton chuckles, clearly amused by the understatement. “Suitable? Darling, it’s a slice of paradise. Just wait until you see where I’ve set us up.”
They move deeper into the island, the dense foliage parting to reveal a pathway lined with lanterns that flicker softly in the dimming light. Kelton had taken his time setting up the path, carefully selecting each lantern to create a warm, inviting glow as the sun began its descent towards the horizon. He was no stranger to adventure and chaos, but when it came to moments like these, he knew the importance of setting the right atmosphere. As they near the spot Kelton has prepared, the path opens up to a secluded clearing. Here, the grass is soft underfoot, and a large, plush blanket is spread out, accompanied by an array of cushions. Nearby, a small table is set up, adorned with an assortment of wines, including the rare and expensive bottle Kelton had promised. A few plates of delicately prepared food, a nod to Mihawk's refined palate, are arranged with care.
The scene is framed by the ocean, which glitters with the last rays of sunlight, casting hues of pink, orange, and gold across the water. The sky above them is a masterpiece, the colors swirling together in a way that seems almost surreal. Kelton turns to Mihawk with a grin, spreading his arms wide as if presenting the world’s greatest treasure. “Not bad, eh? Thought we could enjoy the sunset, have a few drinks, and just… unwind. No swords, no pirates, just us and the view." Mihawk takes in the sight, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly—a rare sign of approval. "You certainly know how to make an effort."
"Only for the best," Kelton replies smoothly, moving closer to the swordsman. "Shall we?" He gestures towards the blanket, his voice softer, yet still carrying that underlying note of mischief. Mihawk nods, and together, they step into the tranquil space, leaving the world behind for a moment of peace between eachother. “You’ve gone through a great deal of trouble for this,” Mihawk observed, his tone neither approving nor disapproving, simply factual. Kelton stopped in front of Mihawk, their eyes locking despite the steady difference in height. “Well, when one is courting the world’s greatest swordsman, one must be prepared to go the extra mile.” His voice softened, the teasing edge giving way to something more sincere. “I wanted tonight to be special.” Kelton gestured toward the small table he'd set up, where a selection of rare wines awaited. The centerpiece was a bottle of vintage so rare that even Mihawk, with his discerning taste, had mentioned it in passing. It had taken Kelton months of searching and no small amount of favors to procure it, but the look on Mihawk’s face when he’d seen it had made every effort worth it.
Mihawk inclined his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment if not full approval, and moved toward the table. Kelton followed, his gaze lingering on the swordsman’s graceful movements. Even in something as mundane as walking, Mihawk exuded a quiet, lethal elegance. It was no wonder Kelton was smitten. As they took their seats, Kelton uncorked the prized bottle, the sound of the pop satisfying in its own right. He poured them each a glass, the wine’s rich aroma filling the air between them. Mihawk took his glass, swirling the wine with practiced ease before bringing it to his lips. Kelton watched intently, noting the way Mihawk’s eyes closed briefly as he savored the taste.
“Well?” Kelton asked, leaning forward slightly, eager for Mihawk’s verdict. Mihawk opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto Kelton’s once more. “It’s exceptional,” he admitted, his tone begrudgingly appreciative. Kelton couldn’t help the triumphant smile that spread across his face. “I knew you’d like it. Only the best for you, of course.” Mihawk regarded him with a level look. “You put in considerable effort for this. Why?” Kelton’s smile faltered slightly, the question catching him off guard. He’d expected Mihawk to be more guarded, more evasive. But here was the swordsman, asking a direct question that required a direct answer.
Kelton leaned back in his chair, considering his words carefully. “Because you’re worth it,” he said finally, the playful lilt in his voice gone. “Because I wanted to do something for you—something that showed you I’m not just interested in a fling.” Mihawk studied him for a long moment, his gaze piercing. “You’ve made your intentions clear before,” he said slowly. “Why now?” Kelton met his gaze without flinching. “Because I think you’re starting to realize that I’m serious.”
A silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable but laden with unspoken thoughts. Kelton wasn’t sure if Mihawk would respond or if he’d retreat into that impenetrable shell of his, but he held his ground, refusing to look away. Finally, Mihawk set his glass down with deliberate care. “You’re relentless,” he remarked, though there was no venom in his tone. Kelton chuckled, the tension breaking slightly. “It’s one of my more charming qualities.”Mihawk didn’t smile, but there was a softness in his expression that hadn’t been there before. “I’ll admit, your persistence is…unexpected.”
“Unexpected, but not unwelcome, I hope?” Kelton ventured, his voice hopeful. Mihawk regarded him for a moment longer, then gave a slight nod. “Not unwelcome.” Kelton’s heart leapt, but he kept his excitement in check, not wanting to push too far too fast. He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “So, tell me, Mihawk—what would it take for you to consider this date a success?”Mihawk picked up his glass again, taking a slow sip before responding. “A success?” He seemed to mull over the question, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “That depends.”
“On what?” Kelton prompted, eager to hear the answer. Mihawk set his glass down again, his gaze fixed on Kelton with an intensity that sent a shiver down the taller man’s spine. “On whether you can keep me interested for the remainder of the evening.” Kelton grinned, his confidence returning in full force. “Oh, I can do much more than that, love. Just you wait and see.”
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of conversation and wine, the tension between them ebbing and flowing like the tide. Kelton was in his element, weaving stories and jokes with the ease of a seasoned entertainer, all while keeping a careful eye on Mihawk’s reactions. To his delight, Mihawk seemed more relaxed than Kelton had ever seen him, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor softened by the wine and the ambiance.
As the moon climbed higher in the sky, casting a silvery light over the deck, Kelton found himself growing bolder. The wine had loosened his tongue, and he leaned closer to Mihawk, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “You know, Mihawk,” he began, his words slow and deliberate, “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.” Mihawk raised an eyebrow, his gaze wary. “And what might that be?”
Kelton’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “That you’re enjoying this far more than you expected.” Mihawk didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing his next words. Finally, he said, “You assume much.” Kelton’s grin widened. “I prefer to think of it as being perceptive.” Mihawk’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made Kelton’s heart skip a beat. Without thinking, Kelton reached out, his hand brushing against Mihawk’s, the touch light but deliberate.
Mihawk didn’t pull away, but his gaze dropped to their hands, his expression inscrutable. Kelton’s heart pounded in his chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness churning in his stomach. “Mihawk,” Kelton said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I—” Before he could finish, Mihawk leaned forward, his movements swift and precise. Kelton barely had time to register what was happening before Mihawk’s lips were on his, the kiss firm and unyielding.
For a moment, Kelton was too stunned to react. This was Mihawk—Dracule Mihawk—kissing him. But the shock quickly gave way to something else, something warm and all-consuming, and Kelton found himself kissing back with equal fervor. The kiss was electric, a jolt of energy that seemed to ignite every nerve in Kelton’s body. He reached out instinctively, his hands gripping Mihawk’s waist as he pulled the swordsman closer. The world around them seemed to disappear, the only thing that mattered was the feel of Mihawk’s lips against his, the taste of wine lingering on his tongue. Mihawk’s hands were steady, one resting on Kelton’s arm, the other at his waist, grounding him in the moment. There was a surprising tenderness in the way Mihawk kissed him—controlled, but not without feeling. It wasn’t the desperate, heated kiss of someone losing themselves in passion, but something deeper, more intentional.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Kelton stared at Mihawk, his mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. “You kissed me,” Kelton said, the words tumbling out in a dazed murmur, a hint of disbelief in his tone. Mihawk’s expression remained calm, but there was a softness in his eyes that Kelton had never seen before. “You kissed me back,” Mihawk replied, his voice steady, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Kelton couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest, a sound filled with both joy and relief. “Aye, that I did,” he admitted, a roguish grin spreading across his face. “And I don’t regret a single second of it.” Mihawk’s gaze didn’t waver, but Kelton could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Nor do I,” Mihawk said quietly, the admission hanging in the air between them, weighty and significant. Kelton’s heart swelled, the words sinking in, making him feel lighter than he had in ages. He’d always known there was something more to Mihawk than the cold, aloof exterior he showed to the world. But hearing those words—knowing that Mihawk didn’t regret this—made it all the more real.
“Mihawk,” Kelton began, his voice steady, “I meant what I said earlier. This—tonight—it’s not just about a fling. I want to be with you, not just for tonight, but for as long as you’ll have me.” Mihawk’s gaze bore into Kelton’s, the weight of his words sinking in. For a moment, Kelton thought Mihawk might pull away, might retreat into that stoic shell he was so known for. But instead, Mihawk stepped closer, his hand tightening around Kelton’s.
“You’re a fool,” Mihawk said quietly, his voice tinged with something that could almost be mistaken for fondness. Kelton chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Aye, that I am. But I’m your fool, if you’ll have me.” Mihawk’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and for the first time, Kelton saw the walls around Mihawk’s heart begin to crack. “Then it seems we’re both fools.” Before Kelton could respond, Mihawk closed the distance between them, capturing Kelton’s lips in another kiss. This one was slower, more deliberate, a kiss that spoke of promises made and a future uncertain but filled with possibilities.
Kelton kissed back with all the passion and sincerity he could muster, his heart soaring as Mihawk’s arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. There was no more doubt, no more hesitation—just the two of them, together in that moment, and the unspoken understanding that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.
When they finally parted, Kelton rested his forehead against Mihawk’s, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “So,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “does this mean our date was a success?” Mihawk’s eyes sparkled with something akin to amusement. “It means you’ve intrigued me, Kelton. But don’t think for a moment that you’ve won me just yet." Kelton’s laughter was soft, a low rumble that resonated between them. “Wouldn’t dream of it, love. The chase is half the fun, after all." Mihawk’s expression softened, a rare warmth in his usually impassive gaze. “Then you’ll have to keep up, Kelton. I’m not easily caught.” Kelton’s grin widened, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. “Challenge accepted, Mihawk. But be warned—I’m a man who never gives up on what he wants.” Mihawk didn’t reply immediately, but the look in his eyes said everything. There was a mutual understanding, a silent agreement that they were both stepping into uncharted waters. Whatever lay ahead, it wouldn’t be easy. But neither of them wanted easy. They craved the thrill, the challenge—the chance to carve something lasting out of the unpredictable life they led.
For a moment, they simply stood there, the world around them forgotten. The wind tousled Kelton’s noir-black hair, and Mihawk’s grip on his waist tightened slightly, as if anchoring them both to this moment. The stars above glittered like silent witnesses to the promise they’d made, each twinkling light reflecting the hope of something more. Kelton finally broke the silence, his voice a whisper of sincerity. “I’ll win you over, Mihawk. It’s only a matter of time.” Mihawk’s lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. “We’ll see, Kelton. But know this—no one has ever succeeded where you intend to go.” Kelton’s eyes shone with determination as he leaned in close, his breath warm against Mihawk’s ear. “There’s a first time for everything, love. And I plan to make sure this is a first you won’t forget.”
yandere! zoro x bartender! reader [gender neutral]
• fic type: oneshot
• summary: zoro couldn't get enough of the drinks you served, but he couldn't get enough of you even more.
• word count: 2.7k
• tw: obsessive thoughts, kidnapping, passing out
• a/n: i hope i didn't get too carried away and i really hope you enjoy this story!! i also may have included a little yandere captain luffy headcanon, since he pretty much gives zoro the ok to pursue y/n. also if i find the time i might make headcanons about y/n getting used to being with the strawhats, and more importantly zoro!
The bar pulsed with energy, the air thick with the scent of spiced rum, grilled seafood, and the occasional whiff of salt carried in from the docks.
Laughter echoed through the dimly lit space, drunken patrons toasting to their fortunes—or misfortunes, depending on the night.
You had long since mastered the art of blending into the chaos, weaving between customers with effortless grace, your hands a blur as you poured drinks, wiped down counters, and cracked jokes all at once.
The old fisherman at the counter huffed as he caught the glass you slid his way, his weathered face splitting into a grin.
"You're too damn cocky for a bartender, Y/n," he grumbled, taking a sip of the golden liquid.
"Flattery will get you nowhere—except another drink if you tip well," you shot back, smirking as you wiped the counter.
The old man let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Damn menace, you are."
Before you could deliver another quip, the bell above the door jingled, signaling new arrivals. Your gaze flickered toward the entrance, and immediately, the atmosphere seemed to shift.
A small group strolled in, their presence commanding attention even in a bar full of hardened sailors. You recognized them instantly.
The Straw Hat Pirates.
Luffy led the pack, grinning ear to ear as he took in the bustling bar, his boundless energy practically radiating from him.
Usopp and Franky followed close behind, already deep in some ridiculous argument about whether or not cola could be turned into alcohol.
And then there was him.
Zoro.
Broad-shouldered, arms crossed, an air of quiet confidence surrounding him. His swords sat at his hip like an extension of his being, a constant reminder of his strength. But it was his eyes that caught your attention—sharp, calculating, always scanning, as if sizing up the world around him.
You’d met plenty of pirates before, but there was something different about him. Something... interesting.
They took their seats at the bar, Luffy slamming his hands onto the counter with his usual lack of subtlety. "Meat! Lots of Meat!" he declared, grinning wildly.
You arched a brow, already reaching for a bottle. "Well, if it isn’t the infamous Straw Hats," you mused, twirling the bottle between your fingers before popping it open. "What’ll it be, gentlemen?"
Usopp, ever the dramatic storyteller, ordered something fruity, a Mocktail being the first thing that came to mind.
Franky demanded something SUPER strong, his voice booming loud enough to rattle the glasses. It seemed like he'd enjoy a nice Whiskey Sour.
Luffy, as expected, wanted something with meat in it. You weren’t sure if you should be impressed or horrified.
Then your gaze flickered to Zoro, who had yet to say a word.
His arms remained crossed, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke. "Sake."
You snorted. "Predictable."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You got a problem with that?"
"Not at all," you said smoothly, already in the midst of making the other's requests. "Just saying, a guy like you doesn’t seem the adventurous type when it comes to drinks."
Zoro grunted, unimpressed, as you poured a variety of liquids into a cup and slid it toward him.
Before he could grab it, you rested your elbow on the counter, flashing him a smirk. "But hey, this one’s on the house."
That got his attention. His brows furrowed slightly, his gaze flicking from you to the drink and back again. There was a brief hesitation before he picked up the cup and took a sip.
The reaction was immediate.
His grip on the cup tightened ever so slightly, his expression shifting just enough for you to notice.
His tongue tingled with the rich, layered flavors—smooth, complex, and yet strong enough to rival his beloved sake.
He swallowed, exhaling slowly as the taste settled in. Then his dark gaze lifted to meet yours, something unreadable flickering in his expression.
"What the hell is this?"
"Like it?" You grinned, leaning forward slightly. "It’s a little something I came up with myself. Thought you’d appreciate it."
Zoro didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took another slow sip, as if testing whether the first taste had been a fluke. It wasn’t. The drink was dangerously good.
Better than any sake he’d ever had.
That realization should’ve irritated him, but instead, he found himself staring at you, curiosity and something deeper settling in his chest.
He hadn’t paid much attention before, too focused on his drink, but now that he was looking—really looking—he noticed things.
The easy confidence in your posture, the way your lips curled in amusement, the glint of mischief in your eyes.
You were different. And for the first time in a long while, he was interested.
The island had a lot to offer—food stalls, markets, scenic cliffs—but for some reason, Zoro always found himself back at your bar.
It had started off as nothing. Just a casual drink, a place to sit while the others indulged in the island’s festivities. But by the third night, he didn’t even pretend he was there for anything else.
It wasn’t just the drinks—though, damn it, they were good.
Too good.
He’d never had anything quite like what you made for him, and each night, it was something better, something stronger, something just right.
But that wasn’t what kept him coming back.
It was you.
You, with your insufferable smirks, your sharp tongue, your easy laughter that rang over the low hum of the bar like a melody.
You didn’t shy away from teasing him, didn’t fawn over him like others did when they recognized his reputation.
You treated him like just another patron, another nameless face in the crowd, and yet—there was something else.
A warmth.
A familiarity.
Zoro wasn’t used to that.
And that kindness, that brightness—it was intoxicating. More so than any drink you poured.
He sat at the bar now, his usual spot, arms resting on the counter as he watched you work.
His drink sat untouched in front of him, forgotten the moment you started talking.
"You sure you’re not just using me for my drinks?" you teased, sliding a fresh glass to a customer beside him before leaning in slightly, giving him that familiar smug look. "Pretty sure this is your fourth night in a row."
Zoro scoffed, fingers tracing the rim of his cup. "Tch. You wish I was that desperate."
"You wound me, swordsman," you gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest. "And here I thought we were forming a beautiful, booze-filled friendship."
Zoro shook his head, but there was the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. "If you keep running your mouth, I might start looking for another bar."
You chuckled, leaning your elbow on the counter. "Yeah? Go ahead. Bet you won’t find another place that can make you forget about your precious sake."
He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.
You both knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
Something about Zoro fascinated you. Maybe it was the contrast—the roughness of him, the way he carried himself like a warrior through and through, yet still sat here every night, lingering like he had nowhere else he’d rather be.
And, though you wouldn’t admit it outright, you found him... charming.
In his own gruff, quiet way.
The way his eyes followed you as you moved. The way he listened when you spoke, even if he acted like he didn’t care.
The way he never let his drink distract him from you.
You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice just enough to make it feel like a secret. "You know, for someone who claims they’re not interested, you sure do look like you’re enjoying the view."
Zoro tensed, his grip tightening slightly around his glass.
His eyes flicked to yours, sharp and unreadable.
For a moment, you thought he might deny it. Scoff, roll his eyes, deflect like he always did.
But instead, he said, "Maybe I am." That caught you off guard.
You blinked, a slow grin creeping onto your lips. "Well, well. Look at you, actually admitting something for once."
Zoro just took a sip of his drink, but his gaze never left yours. "Don’t get cocky."
Too late.
The conversation moved on, the bar growing rowdier as the night stretched on. But Zoro wasn’t paying attention to the noise, or the people, or even his drink.
He was watching you.
The way your hands moved effortlessly, mixing, pouring, sliding drinks down the counter with practiced ease. The way you threw back your head when you laughed, unapologetically loud.
The way you leaned in when you talked to him, like it was second nature, like you wanted to be close.
Each night, his obsession grew.
It started off as simple curiosity, but now—it was hunger.
He wanted more.
More of your time. More of your attention.
More of you.
And he was starting to think he’d take it.
••••
The bar was alive with noise—the clinking of glasses, drunken laughter, the occasional outburst from some poor bastard who lost a bet.
But Zoro barely heard any of it.
He was too focused on you.
You were moving through the crowd with effortless ease, sliding drinks across the counter, cracking jokes that had customers roaring with laughter.
You had that insufferable, cocky grin on your face—the one you always wore when you knew you’d gotten under someone’s skin.
And damn it, it worked every time.
Zoro found himself watching the way your fingers moved as you mixed drinks, the precise way you handled each glass, like it was second nature.
The way you leaned in close when someone spoke, giving them your full attention, even when they were drunk off their ass and slurring nonsense.
You were good at this—too good. Too damn captivating.
And that laugh of yours—light, unapologetic, always laced with amusement at your own wit.
It was like an itch under his skin, one he couldn’t scratch.
Luffy was beside him, stuffing his face with whatever food he’d managed to get his hands on, crumbs scattering across the bar top.
Most of the crew were still doing their own thing, chatting with locals, admiring scenery or pathetically flirting with every woman in a 5 mile radius.
But then—something shifted.
Zoro didn’t notice at first, but Luffy had gone quiet.
He was watching him.
Not in his usual careless way, not with that absentminded curiosity he always had when he wasn’t focused on food. No—this was different.
Luffy’s eyes, normally bright with mischief, were unreadable, his face eerily still.
The realization sent a slow chill down Zoro’s spine.
Then, just as you walked away from the bar, Luffy turned to him. "You like Y/n?"
Zoro stiffened. A heavy silence passed between them, the background noise of the bar fading into a dull hum.
He could lie. Could brush it off. Could scoff and tell Luffy to mind his own damn business.
But he didn’t, he couldn't bring himself to lie to his captain. "...Yeah."
Luffy’s expression didn’t change. He just stared, unsettlingly calm. "Do you want Y/n?"
Zoro exhaled slowly, staring down at his half-empty glass.
Did he?
His first instinct was to say no. He wasn’t that kind of man. He didn’t take people, didn’t let his desires dictate his actions.
But the longer he sat with the question, the more it clawed at him.
The way you laughed. The way you looked at him. The way you spoke to him like he was just another guy, not a pirate, not a swordsman, not some wanted criminal.
He was a pirate though.
Pirates took what they wanted.
And he wanted you.
Zoro lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Luffy. His voice was steady, firm. "I do."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, Luffy’s lips curled into that wide, familiar grin. "If you want something, you should take it!"
Just like that, his usual energy returned, his eerie stillness vanishing like it had never been there. He clapped a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, grinning like this was the most obvious thing in the world.
"My crew gets whatever they want." His grin widened. "I’ll make sure of it."
Zoro’s grip tightened around his cup, heartbeat thudding in his ears.
Luffy wasn’t just talking about letting him go after you.
He was promising something.
And for the first time, Zoro let the thought settle, let it grow, let it take root.
••••
The night stretched long, and eventually, the last few customers trickled out, their drunken laughter fading into the distance as they stumbled into the night.
You exhaled, rolling your shoulders before reaching for the keys in your pocket. Another good night, another pocket full of berri.
The bar was silent now, save for the quiet clinking of glasses as you tidied up one last time.
You moved on autopilot, wiping the counter down with lazy strokes before finally heading toward the door. The lock clicked into place with a satisfying snap, sealing the building in its usual nighttime solitude.
Stepping out onto the dimly lit streets, you inhaled deeply, the salty sea air filling your lungs.
The cobblestone roads stretched before you, lined with flickering lanterns that cast long, wavering shadows against the alley walls.
For a moment, you just stood there, hands stuffed into your pockets, humming a tune under your breath.
And yet… something felt off.
A prickling sensation crawled up your spine, subtle but persistent. Like the weight of unseen eyes pressing against your back.
You froze, the night air suddenly too cold against your skin.
Your fingers twitched in your pockets, tightening around your keys.
You’re being paranoid, you told yourself. It’s just another quiet night.
You forced a breath, shaking your head. "Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n," you muttered under your breath. "No one’s watching you."
But then—
Footsteps.
Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.
Your stomach twisted.
You stopped walking, straining your ears.
Silence.
Your pulse thudded.
Then, just as you took another cautious step forward—
The footsteps resumed.
Closer this time.
Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs.
You picked up your pace, forcing a laugh in a weak attempt to calm yourself. "Alright, if you’re a robber, just know I’m broke as hell—"
The footsteps sped up.
Panic surged through you like a lightning strike. You bolted.
The world blurred around you as your legs carried you forward on pure instinct.
Your home was just in sight, barely a block away—But then arms wrapped around you.
A strong, unyielding grip yanked you back before you could react. A hand clamped over your mouth, smothering the startled cry that tore from your throat.
You fought.
Your body twisted, legs kicking, fingers clawing at the arm restraining you. But the grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened, pressing you flush against an unmovable chest.
And then—
A voice.
Low. Calm. Familiar.
"You’re safe."
Your breath hitched.
The voice was right by your ear, warm and steady despite the vice-like grip holding you still.
"I’ve got you."
Your body went rigid.
Your eyes widened, the realization slamming into you like a crashing wave.
"Zoro?!" The name came out muffled against his hand, but you knew he heard it.
"Shhh," he murmured, voice smooth, almost soothing. "Don’t struggle."
You did struggle, thrashing as hard as you could, but he barely budged.
"Zoro," you hissed, your voice strained against his palm. "What the hell are you—?"
"I won’t hurt you," he promised, his tone steady, as if that alone was enough to justify this.
Confusion tangled with the terror clawing at your chest.
Your mind spun. Why was he doing this?
You forced yourself to think, to breathe. You had to get free, had to—
But then—Sharp pain.
A precise, practiced pressure against the side of your neck.
The world lurched.
Your limbs went weak, your vision hazy.
Your breath shuddered as a wave of dizziness crashed over you.
"Wha…" Your words slurred, head tilting against Zoro’s shoulder. "The… hell…"
Your fingers twitched uselessly, your body going slack.
The last thing you saw was a flash of green hair, blurred by the darkness creeping into the edges of your vision.
And the last thing you heard—soft, unwavering—
"You’re mine now, Y/n."
☥ My Art
☥ Demon Slayer
☥ One Piece
☥ One Piece, Live Action
☥ Spiderman: ATSV & ITSV
☥ Stranger Things
☥ The Walking Dead
☥ Miscellaneous 
✎ Strawhats x gn! reader
Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp [Separately]
• fic type: drabbles
• summary: Strawhat men with an s/o, who picks at their acne/scars; and they do whatever they can to help them try to break the habit.
• word count: 3.9k [Collectively]
• warnings: skin picking, acne picking
• a/n: These are based on my own experience with skin picking, which won't be like everyone else's. So I ask that you be considerate when reading, please! I kinda got carried away with Sanji and Usopp 🧍♀️
The sun beams down on the Thousand Sunny, its golden rays glinting off the calm ocean waves. You lean against the railing, your fingers drumming absentmindedly against the wood. Your gaze wanders toward the horizon, thoughts meandering as the ship cuts through the water.
You shift slightly, fingers brushing your shoulder. There it is again—the familiar itch of idle hands meeting your ever-stubborn acne. Before you can pick at it, a familiar voice snaps you out of your trance. “Y/n! Look at this!” Luffy’s voice rings out, cutting through the salty air. Turning, you see your captain sprinting toward you, holding something in his outstretched hands. Usopp trails behind him, yelling something about "not losing it this time."
Luffy skids to a stop in front of you, shoving a palm-sized beetle practically into your face. “Isn’t it cool? Usopp and I found it on the mast!” You lean back instinctively, raising an eyebrow. “Cool? It looks like it’s planning world domination.” Luffy cackles at your remark, his grin widening. “You’re funny, Y/n! But look at its horns! They’re huge!” You snort, glancing at the beetle. “Yeah, massive. Bet it benches twice my weight.” You flash a mock-serious expression before bursting into laughter, your tone dripping with pompous flair.
“Oi! Don’t insult Beetle-sama!” Usopp protests, pointing a dramatic finger at you. “He’s the strongest beetle in all the seas!” Rolling your eyes with a chuckle, you cross your arms. “Alright, alright, I concede. Beetle-sama is a paragon of strength and charm.” Luffy laughs again, his joy as infectious as ever. “See? Told ya it’s awesome!” He’s gone as quickly as he came, bounding off to show the beetle to Robin next. You shake your head, amused, as your fingers drift back to your shoulder.
“Stop that,” Chopper’s gentle voice interrupts, his small hoof swatting your hand away. “Caught red-handed, huh?” you reply with a sheepish grin. Chopper frowns, his little doctor’s coat billowing slightly in the breeze. “Y/n, you’ve gotta stop picking at it. It could leave scars or get infected. You should take better care of your skin!”
You sigh, nodding. “I know, Doc. It’s just...a bad habit, y’know? Boredom, stress—it happens.”Chopper nods sagely, but before he can respond, Luffy reappears, his curiosity piqued. “What are you two talking about?” Chopper hesitates, glancing between you and Luffy, but you wave him off. “It’s no big deal, just some skin stuff.”
“Skin stuff?” Luffy tilts his head, clearly not understanding. Chopper sighs, taking pity on him. “Y/n picks at their acne sometimes, especially when they’re bored or stressed. I’ve been trying to help them stop.”Luffy blinks at this, his rubbery brain gears turning. Then, with the sudden decisiveness only he can muster, he declares, “Alright! I’ll help too!” You blink, caught off guard. “Help? How?”
“By making sure you’re never bored!” Luffy grins, puffing out his chest like he’s just announced a grand plan. You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s a tall order, Captain.”
“Not for me!” Luffy insists, stretching his arm out and wrapping it around your waist. “C’mon, we’re gonna explore the ship!” And so it begins. Every time you find yourself sitting alone, fingers starting to twitch, Luffy appears like magic. Whether he’s dragging you off to explore a new island, shoving some bizarre food Sanji’s made into your hands, or excitedly ranting about his next dream, he always manages to keep your hands busy—and your mind off your habit.
One evening, after a particularly chaotic adventure involving angry sea kings and narrowly avoiding an ambush, the crew is sprawled across the deck, basking in the quiet. You sit alone near the bow, the familiar itch creeping up again. Your fingers twitch, drifting toward your shoulder, when—
“Y/n!
You startle as Luffy plops down in front of you, cross-legged and beaming. “Wanna hear about the biggest fish I’ve ever seen?” he asks, leaning in close. “Let me guess—it was this big?” You stretch your arms wide, grinning. “No, bigger!” Luffy laughs, mimicking your gesture but stretching his arms far past the point of realism. “It was huuuge!” You chuckle, shaking your head. “Sure it was, Captain.”
As he talks—animatedly describing a fish so large it could swallow the Sunny whole—you realize something. His hands have found yours, his fingers weaving through yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The urge to pick at your skin fades, replaced by a warm, calm feeling. You smile softly, letting yourself be swept up in his energy. “You’re really something, Luffy.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” he asks, cocking his head. “Just...thanks,” you say simply, your voice lighter than usual. Luffy grins, his face lighting up with joy. “Of course! You’re my crew, Y/n. And you’re my partner! I’ve gotta take care of you!" The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, but you quickly mask it with your usual humor. “Aw, shucks. Flattery will get you everywhere, Captain.” He laughs, throwing his head back, and you join in, the sound of your laughter mingling with the ocean breeze.
The salty breeze of the ocean tickled your nose as you leaned on the Sunny’s railing, the waves sparkling under the sun. You were currently watching Luffy attempt to catch fish with his bare hands—unsuccessfully—and your amused chuckles were drowned out by his cries of determination.
“Don’t laugh!” he hollered. “I’m gonna catch the biggest fish in here!” You snorted, smirking. “Sure you are, Captain. At this rate, the fish are probably betting on who’ll pull you in first.” Luffy splashed water in your direction, though he was far too far away for it to land anywhere near you. You grinned, leaning back and crossing your arms. Being on the Thousand Sunny was never boring, and neither were the people on it. That was especially true when it came to Roronoa Zoro.
You felt his presence before you even saw him, his heavy footsteps and steady gait unmistakable. You turned just in time to see the swordsman approaching with his usual lazy scowl, swords at his side. He stopped a few feet from you, hands tucked into his haramaki. “Oi, you done slacking?” he asked. You grinned, tilting your head dramatically. “Slacking? My dear mosshead, I’m hard at work being me. It’s a full-time job, you know.”
Zoro rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched slightly. “Tch. You’re coming with me. Training.” You groaned, throwing your head back theatrically. “Again? Zoro, I’m not trying to become a human pretzel! Besides, what’s the point of training if I can already outwit you with my superior intellect?”
“That’s rich coming from someone who trips over their own feet,” Zoro retorted, grabbing your wrist. “I was testing gravity,” you deadpanned as he dragged you across the deck. “It still works, by the way.” You could hear Nami chuckling in the background, but Zoro ignored everyone, his grip firm yet not painful. You’d long since stopped resisting his training sessions, mostly because he was stubborn enough to carry you over his shoulder if you didn’t cooperate. Plus, you knew why he was doing it.
As the two of you reached the training area, Zoro handed you a practice sword. You stared at it with mock horror. “Oh no, not again. My arms still feel like noodles from the last time.” Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Good. Then you’re warming up faster.” You groaned but complied, holding the sword in a half-decent stance. Zoro began to correct your posture, his hands brushing yours briefly. You tried not to think too hard about it, focusing instead on his instructions.
“Stop slouching. Keep your wrist steady,” he said, circling you like a predator assessing its prey. “Sir, yes Sir,” you quipped. “Just focus, idiot,” he muttered, but you could hear the faintest trace of amusement in his tone. The training session lasted longer than you’d anticipated, and by the end, your muscles ached, and your bad habit had all but slipped your mind. Zoro had a way of keeping you so focused that there was no room for idle thoughts—or idle hands.
Later, as you sat on the deck with Chopper tending to a scrape on your hand, the little doctor gave you his usual stern look. “You need to stop picking at your skin, Y/n!” he scolded. “It’s bad for you, and you’ll get scars!” You gave him a sheepish grin. “Aw, c’mon, Doc, it’s not that bad.”
“It is bad,” Chopper insisted. “And Zoro’s been telling me you’re getting better about it. Don’t ruin the progress!” Your head snapped up, and you blinked. “Wait—Zoro’s been talking to you about it?” Chopper nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He said you’re too stubborn to admit it, but the training helps keep you from doing it. I think he’s really proud of you.”Your face grew warm, and you glanced over to where Zoro was lounging in his usual spot, swords by his side. He was fast asleep—or so it seemed—but his presence felt... steady, grounding.
That night, as you sat beside him in the crow’s nest after he’d dragged you there “to keep him company,” you finally worked up the courage to ask. “Hey, Zoro,” you began, your voice softer than usual. “Hm?” He cracked an eye open, glancing at you. “Why do you... you know, keep bugging me to train with you?” He stared at you for a moment before closing his eye again. “You’re less annoying when you’re focused.” You snorted, leaning back against the wall. “Wow, I’m touched. Truly.”
A brief silence fell between you, but Zoro’s voice cut through it, lower and more serious. “...You’re not alone on this ship. So stop acting like you have to deal with everything by yourself,” he said. Your chest tightened at his words, and for once, you didn’t have a snarky comeback. Instead, you smiled, your voice light. “Thanks, mosshead.”
He smirked, leaning back with his arms behind his head. “Anytime, idiot.” And just like that, you realized how much Zoro cared in his own, gruff way. You didn’t need flowery words or grand gestures. His actions spoke volumes, and you silently vowed to keep working on your habit—not just for him, but for yourself.
The scent of sea salt mixed with the delicious aroma of baking bread wafted through the galley. You leaned against the counter, arms crossed, as Sanji expertly kneaded dough with the kind of finesse that only he could muster. His blond hair fell into his eyes, and you couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Careful, chef,” you said with a smirk. “You’re going to knead that dough into another dimension if you keep putting your back into it like that.”
Sanji shot you a look, one eyebrow arched in mock offense. “Oh? And what would you know about dough, my dear?” “Oh, I know plenty,” you replied, puffing up your chest dramatically. “I’ve got years of experience eating bread. That practically makes me an expert, don’t you think?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he transferred the dough into a bowl to rest. “You’re impossible, you know that?” “Thank you, I try,” you said with an exaggerated bow, laughing at your own antics.
As much as you loved joking around, you could tell Sanji was keeping an eye on you—specifically on your hands, which had started to wander toward your face. You were picking at a small spot on your cheek, absentmindedly scratching at the imperfection as you talked. His smile faded slightly, and he quickly stepped closer, gently catching your wrist before you could do more damage.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice losing its teasing edge. “Don’t do that, Y/n.” You blinked, glancing down at his hand holding yours. “What? Oh, this?” You waved your free hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Just a little battle with my face, nothing serious.” “It’s not fine,” he insisted, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “You’re hurting yourself. I hate seeing you do that.” The earnest concern in his voice took you off guard, and for a moment, you felt a pang of guilt. “I’m not trying to hurt myself,” you said, your tone softer now. “It’s just... I don’t know. It’s a habit.” Sanji sighed, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand before letting it go. “I know, love. But it still worries me.”
There was a pause before you brightened up again, forcing a grin to lighten the mood. “Wow, look at you, Mr. Worrywart. What’s next? Are you going to start measuring my water intake?” He gave you a flat look. “If I have to.” You burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. “Oh, Sanji, you’re killing me! You’d make an excellent mother.” “And you make an excellent troublemaker,” he shot back, though his lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “But seriously, Y/n, I want to help.” Later that day, you found out what he meant by “help.”
Sanji had roped Chopper into his mission. You walked into the infirmary to find the little reindeer scribbling on a clipboard while Sanji paced back and forth like a man on a mission. “I feel like I’m walking into a conspiracy,” you announced, startling them both. “What’s going on here? Are you plotting my demise? If so, I’d prefer poison. Very dramatic, very Shakespeare.” Chopper turned to you, flustered. “N-No! We’re not plotting anything bad! Sanji just asked me for advice on how to help you with your… um… habit.”
You raised an eyebrow and turned to Sanji. “You went to Chopper for advice? What, are you worried I’ll pick myself into oblivion?” Sanji crossed his arms, clearly unamused by your humor. “I’m serious, love. If you can’t stop, I want to at least help you keep your hands busy. Chopper mentioned stress balls and fidget toys, but I figured you might like something more… hands-on.” “Hands-on?” you repeated, intrigued.
That’s how you found yourself in the kitchen later, standing next to Sanji as he handed you a cutting board and a knife. “If you’re going to be fidgety, you might as well put it to good use,” he said, grinning. “Wow, I’ve been reduced to junior chef status,” you said, pretending to look offended. “What’s next? Do I have to peel potatoes?” “Not today,” he replied, amused. “Today, you’re cutting vegetables. Think you can handle that?” “Oh, I’ll handle it all right,” you said, twirling the knife dramatically before starting to chop. “Watch and learn, chef.”
To your surprise, you found the task oddly soothing. The repetitive motion of chopping vegetables kept your hands busy, and having Sanji nearby made it all the more enjoyable. He’d occasionally lean over to check your work, offering tips or cracking a joke to keep the mood light. “You know,” you said after a while, “this isn’t half bad. I might actually be good at this.” “Of course you are,” Sanji said, giving you a proud smile. “You’ve got me as your teacher, after all.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling back. “Don’t let it go to your head, love."
Over the next few weeks, Sanji made a habit of inviting you to join him in the kitchen whenever he had the chance. When he was too busy to cook with you, he’d leave behind recipes for you to try on your own—always tailored to your tastes. One evening, as you both worked side by side to bake a batch of cookies, you glanced at him and felt a wave of gratitude. “You know,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence, “you’re pretty amazing.”
Sanji looked at you in surprise. “What brought that on?” “Just… everything you do for me,” you admitted, your usual snark giving way to sincerity. “I know I joke around a lot, but I really appreciate it, Sanji. You’re kind of the best.” He blushed, his cigarette almost falling from his lips. “Y-Y/n, don’t say stuff like that so casually.” You laughed, nudging him playfully. “What, can’t handle a compliment? Poor Sanji, so unused to praise.”
He shook his head, smiling despite himself “You’re impossible.” “And you love it,” you said, grinning. “I do,” he admitted softly, his voice full of warmth. The moment hung in the air like the scent of freshly baked cookies, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to pick at your skin.
Usopp was on of the most interesting people you'd ever met. He had this magnetic way of weaving words, turning even the most mundane tasks into grand adventures. He was funny, brave (well, mostly), and, above all, kind. And somehow, despite the larger-than-life personalities around him, he made you feel like the most important person on the ship.
Which was why you were currently sitting on a barrel in the workshop, your hands idly fidgeting with a small mechanism Usopp had given you. He was pacing back and forth, gesturing wildly as he described the intricate designs for a new cannon he and Franky were working on. “And then,” he said, his voice rising with excitement, “the cannon will have this rotating mechanism that lets it fire in three directions at once! Can you believe that? Three! It’s genius, right?”
“Absolutely,” you replied with a grin, turning the small gear in your hand. “Though I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Usopp paused mid-step, his jaw dropping in mock offense. “Y/N! How could you? I’m sharing my brilliant ideas with you, and you’re not even trying to understand?”
“Hey,” you said, holding up the gear like it was a prize. “I’m doing my part. Look, I’m keeping my hands busy so I don’t accidentally pick at my face and send Chopper into another lecture.” At that, Usopp puffed out his chest, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Well, you are welcome, by the way. I did make those fidget toys for you, remember?”
You laughed, the sound ringing through the workshop. “Oh, don’t worry, Captain Usopp. I’ll sing your praises for the rest of my days. Truly, what would I do without you?” His cheeks flushed a deep red, but he quickly turned away, pretending to inspect a nearby toolbox. “Y-you don’t have to go that far,” he mumbled, though you caught the hint of pride in his voice.
You hopped off the barrel and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a sudden hug. “Thank you, though. Really. For noticing and for caring. It means a lot.” For a moment, he froze, his entire body going stiff. Then, as if on cue, his chest puffed out even more, and he placed his hands on his hips, striking a heroic pose. “Of course, Y/N! As your boyfriend, it’s my duty to look out for you!” You stepped back, biting back a laugh. “Wow, look at you. The very picture of chivalry.” “Darn right,” he said, grinning ear to ear.
Your days soon seemed to develop a rhythm, and you found yourself spending more and more time in Usopp’s workshop. Whenever he noticed you sitting by yourself, your fingers absentmindedly scratching at your skin, he’d beckon you over. “Y/N! Come here! I’ve got something cool to show you!”You’d roll your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. He’d hand you some little trinket—usually a part of a gadget he was working on—and challenge you to figure out how it worked.
“These gears fit together how exactly?” you’d ask, holding up two mismatched pieces. Usopp would smirk, leaning against the workbench with a cocky expression. “Ah, you see, that’s a trade secret. But I suppose I could teach you… if you’re nice to me.” “Nice? Oh, please,” you’d reply, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m always nice to you, Love.” He’d chuckle, then launch into an enthusiastic explanation about the mechanism, complete with sound effects and exaggerated gestures. Half the time, you had no idea what he was saying, but you didn’t mind. Watching him light up, his voice filled with passion, was more than enough for you.
Then there were the quieter days. On those rare occasions when the crew wasn’t caught up in some grand adventure, you and Usopp would retreat to the aquarium. The peaceful hum of the water and the gentle swaying of the Sunny made it the perfect spot to relax.
The gentle gurgle of water and the soft, rhythmic swish of fish fins filled the aquarium, creating a tranquil symphony. The light refracted through the tank’s glass, casting wavy blue shadows across the floor. You sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Usopp on the cushioned bench, his hand clasped warmly in yours. Neither of you spoke, but there was no need for words—the silence felt full, not empty, like a soft blanket wrapping around you both.
Your thumb idly traced the callouses on his palm, a subtle reminder of the work he put into everything he cared about. Usopp’s hand fit perfectly in yours, rough yet comforting, like holding a tether to something steady in an unpredictable world. You could feel his heartbeat in the quiet stillness, a steady rhythm that mirrored the calm you felt whenever he was near.
Usopp’s gaze lingered on the tank, but you caught him sneaking glances at you out of the corner of your eye. His face softened whenever he looked your way, a quiet, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. For all his bluster and bravado, there was a gentleness to him in moments like these—an unspoken vulnerability that made your chest tighten with affection.
The fish glided lazily through the water, their vibrant scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tank lights. You wondered if Usopp saw the same beauty in them that you saw in him—bright, intricate, and endlessly fascinating.As if sensing your thoughts, Usopp gave your hand a small squeeze, grounding you. He didn’t say anything, but the action spoke volumes, You'd leaned your head against his shoulder, a quiet smile curling at your lips.
Over time, you started to notice a change in yourself. The fidget toys Usopp had made, the trinkets he gave you to tinker with, the quiet moments in the aquarium—all of it seemed to help. You weren’t picking at your skin as much. The urge was still there sometimes, but it was easier to resist. One evening, as you sat on the deck watching the sunset, you turned to Usopp. “Hey.” He looked up from the slingshot he was polishing, his eyebrows raised in question.
“Thank you,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. He tilted his head, confused. “For what?” “For everything,” you replied. “For noticing when I’m struggling. For finding ways to help without making me feel bad about it. For just… being you.” His eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. Then he smiled, a small, genuine smile that made your heart flutter. “Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I guess I should say thank you too. For putting up with me. And, you know, for being you.” You laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder. “We’re a pretty good team, huh?” “The best,” he said, his voice full of confidence.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of orange and pink, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. Life on the sea was unpredictable, filled with dangers and uncertainties. But with Usopp by your side, you knew you could face anything. After all, he wasn’t just your boyfriend. He was your partner, your teammate, and, most importantly, your friend. And that was more than enough.
@triangularz thanks for the tag!! And you know I'm gonna be lurking in your blog for that fic, you might as well add me to your taglist 🤭,, the cross guild's got me in a chokehold, and I recently finished Mihawk's part of a fic:
A moment of silence stretched between you, filled only by the distant rustling of leaves outside. You cleared your throat, still flustered but grateful beyond words. “Thank you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. Mihawk reached out, brushing his fingers along the curve of your jaw before wiping a wayward streak of water from your cheek. “You need only ask, Y/n.” And just like that, your heart was fluttering like butterfly wings.
Npts: @thebunnednun @shy-writer-999 @lofaewrites @loganwritesprobably @bunnyboowrites @chibinasuu @sigewienne-writes @indydonuts
Thank you to @bettystonewell for tagging me! This is the last line I wrote. Currently, I am still writing my 'Woman of Letters' series, (28k words and counting).
“Where’s Dean?” You asked, your voice soft and full of hope.
Again, I don't have many mutuals, so I will just tag my favorite accounts: @deansbeer @dulcescorderitas @sammyluvr @buckysbabygorl @lovelybarnes
No pressure to anyone I tagged!
I realized I don't have to be so OVERLY organized with my blog and when it comes to posting my writing, creativity shouldn't be hindered.
can we get some yandere zoro x bartender reader who makes the best danm alcohol he has ever tasted
OMGOSH THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!! I really hope you enjoy the story, you can find it right here!
− Devour
✎ sanji x obsessive! reader
♦︎ fic type: smut
♦︎summary: the love you have for him is deep and might be concerning, but he doesn't have to know.
♦︎word count: 1.7k +
♦︎warnings: Obsessive thoughts, no use of y/n, gender neutral reader, penetration
He was yours, it didn't matter if he knew of not, he was your and nothing he or anyone could say would ever make you think differently. From the moment he walked onto the sandy beach of your home island and helped you liberate your people; to the moment he asked you to be his, he belonged to you.
Some of his crewmates seemed reluctant to have you join them, the time it took for them to learn eachother and their mannerisms was long. They didn't want to go through that process all over again, but Luffy recognized you for your strength and saw what you could bring to his crew which had previously been missing. And so you became the Strawhat's very own Alchemist, your expertise being in chemicals, toxins, and medicines.
This had to be the universe's way of paying you back for all the trouble you'd went through. You wouldn't dream of passing up this offer, especially if you could be with the blonde cook. After months of traveling with the crew, you were able to form solid friendships with everyone. While Sanji was your main goal, you couldn't lie and say that you didn't care about the rest of the Strawhat Family. Sanji just held a special place in your deep and twisted soul.
This aspect about yourself you hid pretty well, years of trial, error and rejection had made you see that the world wasn't truly ready to understand you as a person. Neither was your new family, despite how accepting they were. Maybe one day you'd let them see, but the inner workings of your mind were not for any normal person to comprehend. You were okay with this arrangement though, because the more normal you seemed the closer you could become to him.
He didn't have to know how deep the black void in your heart seeped. Sanji in all of his beautiful, perfect glory didn't need to burden himself with your brokenness. When he smiled at you from across the deck, he didn't have to know. When he brought you, Nami and Robin special treats, he didn't have to know. When his soft, peach colored lips touched your knuckles delicately, his ocean blue orbs meeting your; although his lustrous golden hair covered one. His perfectly curled eyebrow raised 1 1/3 cm away from his eye which locked you in his gave. The feel of his perfectly manicured hand grasping yours lightly; you wished you could clip his fingernails and keep them in a small locket next to you heart- he didn't have to know.
You continued to keep it from him, even as he knelt before you, asking you to finally hold the keys to his heart. Those raw, dark emotions resurfaced for a split second which you quickly suppressed before he could notice. Like you'd practiced over and over again, you happily wrapped your arms around him, inhaling the scent of his cologne mixed with natural kitchen spices. He didn’t need to see the depths of your obsession, all he needed to know was that you loved him, and that you would do anything to keep his attention on you.
Sanji didn't have to know, not even as your nails marking his back as he slowly plunged into your tight canal; letting the world know who he belongs to. He seemed to have the same agenda; the way his mushroom tip bruised that desired spot was better than you could ever imagine. The times you've touched yourself to the thought of him couldn't begin to compare to this moment. "Ngh- my love you feel so- so heavenly."
His hips moved with purpose and to an unknown rhythm that was synced to the beating on your heart. Sensual touching exchanged between you two, further solidifying you in this moment. The intensity of it all makes your mask crack just a little, enough for Sanji to see a sliver of your dark heart but not enough that we could ever think of pulling away from you. "Mine your all mine...Sanji tell me you're mine- shit..Tell me...tell me you'll never leave me!"
His pace intensified even more, your obsessiveness pulling him evermore closer to you. This being the first time he'd ever truly felt desired the way he wanted to be. Finally the love he had could finally be truly shared and reciprocated back. He felt his member twitch inside of you, more cum leaking into your canal. "I'm yours mon amour- I promise you I'm yours-fuck-"
Loads of cum seeped from when you two were connected, his fast pace pushing more into you weeping hole. You'd lost count of the orgasms you'd had but anytime he saw your mixed essence trailing onto the sheets beneath you he'd quickly fuck the liquid back into your tight canal. Slutty groans leaving his kiss bruised lips as he tips into the brink of overstimulation. “You feel so good! ‘So good!”
“Oh my fuck—!” The whines escaping your throat were drowned out by Sanji's soft lips pressing against yours hungrily. You returned the same level of intensity, more of your darkness seeping through in the moment. His pace was controlled but the way he drilled his hips into your own was delicious.
Sanji's breathing increases in pace; trailing light kisses down you burning skin. The heart from you bodies makes you both feel drowsy but Sanji won't cease until he's pulled one more release from you. "M'gonna cum-fuck-," He locks eyes with you, the moment becoming increasingly more intimate. His lithe hand lifts on of your legs, placing it over his shoulder to reach even deeper, but not before placing a warm kiss in you ankle.
"Come with me, mon amour, please." He coos at you; the bed shaking with every thrust. The friction, each precise thrust, his burning skin pressing ever more closely against yours. The sight of his chest rising and falling, jagged breaths leaving his lungs. That gaze, like you were the only being in the world as his tip pressed further into you slutty hole. These were all factors pushing you over the edge, whimpers leaving both of you. His stuttering hips pushing his finally load deep while simultaneously ridding you through your most intense orgasm yet.
Lingering marking across his pale skin, hushed whimpers leaving his pink lips at the contact of your lips again his neck. Sucking the red beneath his skin towards the surface, imagining yourself sucking that sweet red nectar of his, devouring what was truly yours. Letting any woman, who dared to set their eye on him as a suitor see, that he belonged to someone. And if they dared to ignore the physical signs of your possession, they would simply have to leave the face of this earth. Sanji wouldn't miss them, he didn't need to when he had you and you were all he would ever need. He didn't have to know.
He was yours to devour.
Hi !!! iIs it possible to have Usopp (top) x male reader (bottom).Smut. They have been a couple for a long time. The half-human, half-tiger reader (he has the body of a human but a tiger's tail, ears, eyes and stripes). For the storyline, during the whole day, the reader has fun teasing Usopp, but when they chose to keep the boat Usopp decides to make him regret all this teasing. There can be a lot of praise and teasing from Usopp's part
✎usopp x tiger! reader
♦︎fic type: smut
♦︎summary: after you teasing usopp all day, he finally decided to do something about it.
♦︎word count: 2.4k
♦︎warnings: praise kink, male! reader, soft dom! usopp, anal, oral [reader receiving]
♦︎ a/n: omgg thank you so much for the ask, and i hope you enjoy what i wrote! I apologize for the delay I've been busy with moving.
The sun hangs high in the clear blue sky, casting a warm, golden light over the Going Merry as it bobs gently in the turquoise waters of the island's harbor. The crew of the Straw Hat Pirates has disembarked to explore the lush landscape, leaving you and Usopp behind on the ship for a well-deserved break from your adventurous lives.
You were lounging casually on the deck, your eyes tracking the movements of the crew as they make their way towards the island. You flex your fingers, relishing in the sensation of the warm sun against your skin, and a mischievous grin spreads across your face.
Today, you have a singular goal: to make Usopp as riled up as possible. You’ve long enjoyed your playful interactions with him, but today, you want to turn the teasing up a notch and push him to his breaking point. As you stretch out languidly on the deck, your thoughts dance with plans to fluster your partner.
Usopp had settled into a comfortable spot by the railing, fiddling with a small gadget he’s been working on. He seems absorbed in his work, unaware of your scheming. You stand up and saunter over to him, your movements fluid and deliberate. With a lazy stretch and a feline grace, you cast a sidelong glance at Usopp, who is engrossed in adjusting the gadget. Your eyes gleam with mischief as you approach.
"Hey, Usopp," you purr softly, your voice rich and smooth. "Need any help with that thing?"
Usopp glances up, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Not from you, tiger. I’ve got it under control."
You tilt your head, your grin widening. "Are you sure? I’d hate to see you struggle with something so trivial."
Before Usopp can respond, your form ripples and shifts into that of a tiger. The transformation is seamless, and in an instant, you’re a sleek, golden-striped feline. You stretch out in front of Usopp, curling your body around the gadget with a lazy purr. Usopp raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "Really? Now you're just showing off."
Your tiger eyes gleam as you give Usopp a slow, deliberate lick of your paw. The gesture is more playful than anything else, but it clearly has its intended effect—Usopp’s cheeks flush a delicate pink. You purr softly, stretching out as if you own the entire ship. "Just making myself comfortable," you say with a feline smirk. "You don’t mind, do you?" Usopp tries to focus on his gadget, but it’s clear that your presence is becoming increasingly distracting. He shifts uncomfortably as your tail flicks against his legs, the tickling sensation almost unbearable.
After a moment of pretending to be engrossed in his work, Usopp gives in with a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine. If you’re going to be a distraction, I might as well give you something to do." With a dramatic sigh, Usopp places his gadget aside and reaches out to gently scratch behind your tiger ears. You close your eyes in bliss as you purr loudly, thoroughly enjoying the attention, before switching back to your human form.
But Usopp isn’t done. As he scratches behind your ears, his fingers occasionally brush against your sensitive spots, sending shivers down your spine. Your tail flicks erratically, betraying the fact that you’re trying very hard to maintain your composure. "Are you enjoying this, Y/n?" Usopp teases, his voice dripping with amusement. Your purring grows louder, and you roll onto your stomach, exposing your tail fully in a gesture of trust and playfulness. “You know me too well, Usopp.”
Seeing your vulnerable position, Usopp’s smirk widens. “Oh, I see. So you want me to keep going, huh?” Your tiger eyes glint with a mix of desire and mischief. “Only if you want to.”Usopp’s fingers make contact with the base of your tail, sending you into a state of delightful squirming. You try to suppress your reactions, but the combination of gentle scratches and Usopp’s teasing comments proves too much. You wriggle and purr, letting him know just the effect he has on you. Finally, Usopp relents and stops his delightful touches, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “How about we take this up a notch, yeah?”
••••
Usopp's toned body loomed over you, panting heavily from your previous make out session. Usopp's gaze lingers on your own, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that mirrored your own. There was a moment of silence before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was filled with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and when you opened up to him, the kiss deepened into something raw and primal.
But it was the way he moaned against your mouth that sent a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins, the sound low and rough, vibrating through your very core. The moan was muffled, almost swallowed by the intensity of the kiss, but it resonated in the pit of your stomach, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward.
And then he rotated your head slightly, his hand gripping your chin as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation.
You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled with the effort to maintain control, and it was intoxicating, the knowledge that he was holding back for you. His hands slid down to your waist, and he pulled you even closer, your chest flush against his as he guided your movements with ease. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.
He broke the kiss only to whisper against your lips, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "My good boy," he breathed, his words a caress that resonated deep within you, leaving you yearning for more.
Usopp's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure. As he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin, he whispered with a husky tenderness that made your heart flutter, "Such a good boy for me."
His hand slid up your back, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he bent down to press a kiss to your shoulder, the gesture so tender, so filled with reverence that it made your chest tighten with emotion. You could feel the way his body trembled against yours, the effort to maintain control evident in every movement, every breath. But it was the way he continued to speak, his voice low and breathy, that sent shivers down your spine, the words a mixture of praise and profanity that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.
"You drive me crazy," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I can't... resist you. You are so perfect, so damn perfect." "My perfect boy," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a depth of feeling that made your chest tighten with emotion, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
And as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and bites along the sensitive skin there, you felt the world around you fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of pure, unbridled passion. His hands make haste with your pants, loosening them just enough to reach in and grab your hard cock, releasing it from the confines of the fabric with a satisfied look. He rubs you softly, thumb placing just beneath the head, soaking in your noises. He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. It's rather unfortunate that he must silence your pretty sounds but the vibration of your moans against his mouth makes up for the loss.
Usopp was always this way - the pleasurer, rather than the pleased. Trust that he was always happily pleased with his time with you, with your reactions and moans, asking for more, but in general, he just wasn't the type to seek out his own gratification before giving you yours. Part of it riled you up inside, part of it made your heart yearn for him all the more. He strokes you and you curl into him. It's as though his fingers are laced with poison. And yet, his lips somehow carry the antidote.
Usopp positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans. The sight alone has you begging whatever gods may be for some kind of release, not that you'd ever repent for your sinful thoughts when it came to this man. Even if it meant going to something resembling Heaven. You've already experienced such a reality and he was right in front of you, rubbing his hardening self against you with no remorse or embarrassment. Your hands reach down to finally feel him, the way he twitches against your touch, the way he groans just above you.
His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction, and you chuckle before giving it to him. You undo his overalls, pulling them down along with his boxers and revel at the sight. He reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.
You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you, "You look so cute like that." You whine at the praise, face heating up even more - you didn't know that was even possible. "I, I want-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours. Usopp kisses you again, understanding you regardless, and chuckles as he lets go of the both of you to help you shimmy off your pants completely.
His fingers find again the curves of your ass and he grins widely, groaning at the sight. The flat surface of his tongue laps up your hole, sopping up the area to make it easier for his thumb. He pushes the digit into your enclosure, slow yet eager. "Usopp," you sigh, eyes shut as you focus desperately on his touch.
Two fingers pass easily through and leave you to crumble beneath him, scissoring them apart to make room for one more, rolling your head against the table, thrashing about as if you were being tortured. He positions himself at your entrance. "Ready?" You nod with reckless abandon, practically begging him.
He pushes in steadily, slow but never faltering. He stretches you so well. You groan, a mix of pain and satisfaction flooding your senses. He holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the curves to soothe you as he seeks pleasure of his own deep within you. You feel his dick twitch against your walls. He rolls his hips, aiming for that spot that drives you to madness.
The angle allows this easily, your mind going blank as you become solely aware of the feeling of him entering and exiting your hole. He finds his rhythm, keeping his hands on you as he guides himself in and out, loving the way your ass looks as it ripples with every thrust. He moves his hand from your stomach down to your dick, holding it against the skin of his palm, fingers wrapping around you.
He swirled his cock inside you hearing the gooey wet noises of your arousal and he bit his lips tightly before pushing himself inside. Somehow you felt tighter and even more amazing than he last remembered. You felt so soft, that there wasn’t a piece of your body that he wasn’t touching while dragging himself in and out of you. The slow pace didn’t last long as he needed more. This pace began to pick up, his cock dragging across your walls managing to hit every pleasurable spot. “You take it so well, you deserve it, Baby.”
With each word came a stronger and faster thrust making you subconsciously pull away from the feeling of him, but he noticed this and Usopp grabbed your hips with one hand and placed his other on your tummy and pushed down. "Don't run from me baby, you wanted this~" You felt numb in the brain. Your eyes were squinted seeing how hard Usopp was sweating and breathing over you. He looked so attractive, you felt your cock throb in his hand. Both of you filled the rooms with whines, moans, and groans on top of the wet slapping noises against each other. It wasn’t long until your felt your orgasm approaching so closely; "Usopp-fuck- I'm close~"
You felt his entire body weight on you with his hands grabbing yours above your head to keep himself steady and he pumped into you viciously and you clenched each time he came back inside you so easily due to how wet and stretched you were. His stomach dragged against your cock, add more friction to your sensitive tip. “It’s okay—I know baby it feels so good; Let go for me~"
He mouth was right by your ear as your face was buried in his bed moaning right along with him. You heard the bed creak so loudly and the floor boards get scratched up from the way the bed frame was moving under you both. You felt almost like if you didn’t scream from pleasure right now you’d probably die. "USOPP! IM-CUMMING!"
His eyes opened again now moving faster trying to reach the same high as you. Both of you were fucking like literal rabbits at this point. But you didn’t care because you were pretty much at fault for this. With a few more thrust you felt his load seeping feeling into your stretched out hole; your own release coating both your chests. You both finally slowed down as you both came together. He hugged you slowly still trying to ride out your combined orgasm. You both take a moment to catch your breath and come down from your high. Your sharp canines lightly dragging across his ear as you huff out, "Totally worth it." Usopp devolves into breathless laughter before lifting his self from your clutches, taking his warmth with him, but not before kissing your forehead when you whine in protest. "I sure hope it was, but we have to get cleaned up before the others get back." He picks you up bridal style and begins heading to the bathroom a content smile on his face as you nuzzle into his hold and wrap your tail around his leg, purring lightly.
✎buggy x spouse! reader
♦︎summary: after four years of running, you can only hope that the universe will have mercy on you, and reunite you with the love of your life.
♦︎word count: 2.1k
♦︎warnings: hallucinations
Four years, four years of running, four years of hiding four years of preparation, all leading up to this very moment. Your time on this island had been the most calm you'd been in 4 years. The constant running from a special group of Marines, specially trained to target you, Hadad weighed down, mourn you than you would've ever thought possible. But the promise the determination to get back to your husband kept moving through their darkest moments.
The days stretched, time bending; bleeding into itself. Sometimes you had trouble differentiating the days from your memories when it didn't contain him. The nights were the hardest to deal with, because then you were left alone with your thoughts. The stars shined down over you, offering you some form of comfort but nothing could compare to him.
Four years since you felt the warmth of his embrace, four years since you heard his hearty laugh, four years since you felp his soft lips coated in red, against your plump ones. Being apart from him was a daily fight, an ongoing war against memories that threatened to overwhelm you.
Your constant running had pushed you to the farthest reaches of the Grand Line. Your powers, connected to the gravitational field of the earth, made you a target. You could alter the gravitational field around you, capable of reducing entire ships to splinters. This gift, or curse, had to force you to leave the only home you'd ever know, the only person you'd ever truly loved; had forced you to stay on the move, never lingering too long in one place.
You missed Buggy with an intensity that surprised even you. His absurd, but equally charming antics; he was such a unique person that you couldn't help me drawn to him. Buggy had a way of grounding you, of making you feel safe and loved despite the chaos that surrounded you.
You remembered how he would stand by your side. Even when he was trembling with fear himself, and how he would use his Devil Fruit powers in the most ridiculous yet effective ways to protect you.
Your thoughts would often drift back to the day you left. 'He Who Waits' had finally caught up to you, and there was nothing you could do except run. No matter what you did, you could never forget the absolute devastation and hurt that crossed Buggy's face once before you disappeared into the night.
You didn't have enough time to explain it to him, didn't have the heart to drag him into your mess when he had his own dreams and ambitions ahead of him. Every day, since then you'd regret not being upfront with your husband, the one you promised to spend the rest of your life with.
Some days, during your most lucid moments, you would see him, standing on the deck of his ship, his pretty blue hair that you loved so much, tucked into his hat. His astonished shouting was practically audible, seeing the way his face would light up with that mix of anger and joy that was so uniquely him. The thought of his toned arms around you again, holding you tight as if to make sure you were real, gave you strength to keep moving forward.
----
The sun is high in the sky, radiating intense heat that makes the island's air shimmer. You stand on the cliffside, the salty breeze of the sea ruffling your hair, however long or short it was. Your heart aches with a mix of longing and nervousness, but also a fierce determination.
Although this day is just as uneventful as the ones before it, you always hold hope that today would be the day. That you soon will be reunited with the love of your life, that blue hair would cloud your vision and those soft, slightly chapped red lips would connect with yours once again.
The sun beams down on you, ever present, you hear the distant sound of many voices, blending together, some louder than others. You'd usually ignore them because it's not rare that pirates dock on this island for respite or repair. Many times you would go into hiding out of fear of 'He Who Waits' finally catching up to you. You wouldn't put anything past him, no matter how secluded this island was. You could always feel him lurking, deep, red eyes glaring into your back even if he wasn't physically there.
Your thoughts were cut off by a faint but familiar voice, you were used to your mind playing tricks on you but this was far too cruel. Usually your hallucinations would fester in the head of night, where not even the stars could comfort you.
They never happened in broad daylight, where you could easily differentiate reality from your mind's torture. You felt yourself being drawn to the voice, a sliver of hope blooming in your heart. Maybe, just maybe the Universe had found favor in you, has seen enough of your suffering and decided to give you a break after all these years.
You stalked through the terrain of this lush forest, which turned into walking silently, calculating each footstep that hit the forest floor to not draw attention. The sound of that voice become more clear, orders being barked that seemed so familiar, you let go of all reason. Your walking turns into running, and so you're running through the dense foliage, your heartbeat echoing through your head. That familiar, warm feeling in your chest is returning, but so is your anxiety.
You grow anxious that this isn't him, that you've finally gotten away from 'He Who Waits' but in the process, lost the love of your life. You're anxious because you know that if it isn't, your heart won't be able to take it anymore, and you'll lose yourself. Mind slipping into deep darkness, never to be retrieved again, but you refuse to lose hope.
You think about the way his red nose would wrinkle when he laughed, the mischief in his eyes that made him a pirate feared by many, yet adored by you. You recall his boisterous voice, always larger than life, and the moments of vulnerability he showed only to you. Your lips curl into a smile as you brush aside a low-hanging branch, your eyes scanning the horizon. You take in the new addition to the familiar surroundings of the beach. Many when we're going to and from the ship, they seemed busy but you weren't here for them.
You eyes continued to wander before focusing on a familiar figure approaching from the distance. The vibrant colors of his attire are unmistakable—red and white stripes with his oversized captain's hat bobbing as he moves. It's him, it's so unmistakably him, and you find yourself weeping because finally you'll be reunited.
“Buggy!” you cry out, your voice trembling, the tears never ceasing, the larynx in your throat was sore from disuse but you pushed through. Buggy’s posture stiffens, his commanding voice trailing off as he processes the sound of your voice. He turns slowly, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. His eyes, those sharp, playful blue eyes, lock onto yours. They widen in shock, the mischievous sparkle momentarily replaced by raw, unfiltered emotion. His mouth opens slightly, his breath catching as if he’s seeing a ghost.
“[Reader]?” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, filled with disbelief. You step towards him hesitantly, you wanted to say everything and nothing at all, but the only thing that fell from your lips was, "Buggy!" you shout, your voice breaking with emotion. "[Reader]!" His voice reaches you, a mix of shock and joy.
He quickens his pace, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste. You take a few steps forward, your heart pounding in your chest. As he gets closer, you can't contain the laugh that breaks through your sobbing. The sight of him, flustered and frantic, is endearing.
Buggy finally reaches you, skidding to a halt just a few feet away. For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other, taking in every detail, every change. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, you're in his arms, his grip tight as if he's afraid you'll disappear again.
His arms wrap around you with a fervor that takes your breath away. You’re engulfed by the familiar scent of salt, sweat, and a hint of the sea, the smell that has always meant home to you. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought I’d lost you forever. I searched everywhere, [Reader]. Everywhere.” His words hit you with the weight of his longing and desperation. You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your hands cupping his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your fingers, his face make up smearing slightly.
“I’m so sorry. I had no choice, I wish I could have explained everything but I didn't have enough time!" You sob, holding on to him as if he's disappear if you let him go. His gaze softens, and he gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender. “You don’t have to explain now. You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”
You laugh through the tears threatening to spill over, the sound a mixture of relief and happiness. “You always knew how to make me feel better.” He grins, that signature mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “And you always knew how to make me worry." You wink at him, your voice playful despite the tears. “I seem to remember you enjoying that.”
Buggy chuckles, a deep, hearty sound that vibrates through you. “You’re a handful, [Reader], but yes, I do love it.” You lean in closer, your lips just inches from his. “And I love you, Buggy. Always have, always will.” His eyes widen in surprise, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “[Reader], you can’t just say things like that…”
You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you. “Why not? It’s the truth.” He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re going to be the death of me, love.”
“But you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you say, a teasing lilt to your voice. You laugh, a sound that feels foreign after so long, but oh-so-good. The energy flows through you, a mix of joy and relief that makes you feel lightheaded. It's a familiar sensation, one you've experienced before when your powers surge unexpectedly. Before you realize it, your feet lift off the ground.
The sunlight intensifies around you, the warmth of the rays seeping into your skin and filling you with a pulsating energy. You start to float upwards, the realization hitting you only when Buggy's eyes widen in panic. "[Reader]! You're floating away!"
You blink in surprise, looking down to see the ground getting farther and farther away. You laugh again, more out of surprise than amusement. "Oops!" Buggy's hands reach out, his Devil Fruit powers activating. His arms detach from his body, elongating as they grab hold of your outstretched arms. The sudden jolt brings you back to your senses, and you stop rising.
"Get down here, you airhead!" Buggy shouts, though there's no real anger in his voice, just exasperation. You focus, pulling the energy back into yourself and slowly descending. As your feet touch the ground, you give Buggy a sheepish grin and chuckle lightly. "Ahaha, it's been a while since that's happened."
His grin widens, and he pulls you closer, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both tender and passionate. You lose yourself in the moment, the world around you fading away. His kiss is a promise, a reassurance that you’re finally where you belong. When you finally pull apart, you’re both breathless. Buggy rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Every single day.” He opens his eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “Promise me you won’t disappear again.”You nod, your voice firm. “I promise. I’m here to stay.” Buggy smiles, a look of pure happiness on his face. “Good. Because I don’t think I could handle losing you again.” You lean into him, your heart full. “You won’t have to. We’re together now.”
♦︎notes: - I was rewatching Steven Universe, the episode where he's stuck floating and I was heavily inspired to write about [Reader] who goes through the same thing! Plus Buggy is becoming one of my favorite characters 😊
I enjoy writing Y/n as a obsessed and lovesick person who'll devote themself to those they care about 🙂