yeah
1. Re-blogging again bc I can
2. I hate Yasopp
3. Yasopp is one of the worst dad’s in One Piece
4. I hate Yasopp
Ace x Reader, fluff, crack, sfw, minor swearing
Summary: School stresses you out, and Ace is there to motivate you!
A/N: Yeesh . . . college isn’t easy, and it definitely isn’t everyone’s thing. I hope this fic reaches those who need it, and you’re motivated! Best wishes to the person who requested this, and best wishes to those who have an upcoming test/exam/quiz!
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Working in your room, unbothered, your journal lies in-front of you.
The clock reads: 2:25pm, by your side, and you know you’ve already wasted half the day. You’d been procrastinating since this morning, changing up tasks, and different schedules—to avoid this very moment.
But, you couldn’t ignore it forever, so here you were now. Begrudgingly studying.
SLAM
“____!” Ace swung your door open, peeking in.
You flinched, throwing your pencil up as you shouted. “Oi! Don’t scare me like that!”
“Oh, there you are!” he piped, smiling as he came in, completely disregarding your startle. He through his arms around your shoulder, holding you as he looked to what you were working on.
His head rested above yours, and a look of disgust crossed his face. “Ew. What is that?”
“What’s what?” You sighed, sinking into your chair.
“What do you mean what—oh my god,” he gasped, “Are you working on math?”
“Yes?”
“Ew.” he deadpanned, scrunching his nose.
“It’s not ew, go away if you’re just gonna be annoying.” you grumbled, pulling your journal to hide it as he inched closer.
“Ace—“
Curiously, Ace reached to grab the journal, flipping through the messied pages. He raised a brow, seeing organized definitions . . . to the very un-organized ones.
The hot-head read it as if he could, nodding in understatement before he set it down. He leaned against your chair, flipping to a certain page.
“What’s this mean?” he asked, pointing to a scribbled equation with a poorly drawn ‘fuck this!’ with arrow beside it.
Along with a few other curses and symbols.
You cleared your throat, averting your gaze.
“Look, I’m trying here, don’t judge.” you crossed your arms, averting your gaze.
“I’m not judging,” he shrugged, flipping to a page—where you’d actually gotten an answer.
“Hey, you got this one.” he smiled, patting your shoulder, encouragingly rubbing it to your neck.
“Yeah, and I barely understood it.” you grumbled.
“But you still got it.”
“Barely.”
“But . . . you still got it.” he repeated.
You scoffed, looking away.
Yeah, it was true, you’d got it.
But you didn’t understand it. You’d didn’t get all the material. Maybe in sections, but once you put everything together and you were under-pressure? You’d flunk it. You’d mess it up again.
And in a few weeks, there’d be expectations and things you were ready for, expected to understand, but couldn’t.
“Yeah, barely.” you whispered, growing quiet. Your eyes glossed with tears, and you lowered your head.
“Hey.” Ace nudged, “What wrong?”
“Nothing.”
You shifted up, closing your journal, letting it glide towards the others. You let out a shaky breath, holding your tongue.
Great. That was just more things you needed to study for.
Tears welled.
“____,” he murmured, grabbing your arm.
“Hey, look at me.” Ace pulled you to face him, plopping you to the chair as he kneeled in-front of you. He rested his arms on your thighs, leaning in.
“Hey, you’re doing good. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“I’m not.” you answered, rubbing your face.
“I’m just frustrated and stressed out.”
Ace paused, not expecting you to answer, but agreed. “Yeah, you are.”
“What? Don’t look at me like that, you’ve been stressing over this thing forever.” he grabbed the journal, placing it in your lap. “I’m not completely clueless.”
“I know you’re not, I just. . .”
“Yeah, I know, but look.” he grabbed your chin, tilting it down.
“See this thing here?” Ace gestured to the book, hitting it against your leg. The paper snapped softly throughout the room, and you paused before answering.
“Yeah?”
“You’re trying, ____, and that’s a lot more than other people can say.” he smirked, letting it drop in your lap.
“Look, I know that test—or exam, or whatever the hell you’re working so hard for is important, but you don’t need to worry so much.”
Ace leaned closer, smiling. “You’re smart, really smart, even if that stupid test says otherwise. I know it, deep down you know it, so stop freaking out.”
“You got it, you always do.” he smoothed, poking your forehead.
“I know, that’s why I’m studying but it still doesn’t make sense.” you tried.
“Because you’re thinking too much.” he poked you again, harder this time—making you wince.
“That’s not even a thing,” you muttered, grabbing the journal, but Ace took it right out of your hands.
“Oh—trust me, it is.” he laughed, pulling back.
“You’re doing it now, sitting here crying, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t, get frustrated all you want, but this?” he shook the paper, “doesn’t decide your worth. Even if people say it does.”
“You’re working hard, hard enough anyone out who’s smart enough to realize it, will. So don’t beat yourself up about it.” he smirked, pulling you up.
“You’ll get there, I know you will.” he cupped your face, smoothing over your tears.
You sniffled, lowering your gaze. “You think so?”
Slowly, Ace leaned forward. “I know so, and I’m proud of you for trying, even if it’s hard. You’re getting closer—trust me on that, and you’re getting better without even realizing.”
Gently, his lips met yours. Ace’s kiss was soft, reassuring, and sweet. His hands traveled to your waist, and his forehead leaned against yours.
Steady, and calming.
“You’ll get it right, I know you will. You’re gonna do great.”
Roronoa Zoro x !Fem!Reader, fluff, angst/comfort, anxiety, reader snaps, anger-issues, make-up, swearing, lowkey made me tear up.
Summary: You get overstimulated and finally break...
A/N: I have finally revised this fic. I am so glad, because I can’t believe I WROTE THIS 😭😭 There might be a few slip-ups, but it’s WAY better from before.
(Taking a break changes your grammar and set-up istg.)
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It'd been mid-day.
The hours had been painstakingly fucking long, and you'd cooped yourself up in your room to avoid further attention.
You didn't know what set you off, but you just wanted it to stop.
Your skin crawled, and your head felt like it was going to explode. Your limbs helplessly flexed and turned, attempting to alieve your symptoms, but nothing would let up. You were wound. And you were wound tight. Your body wouldn’t let you loose, leaving you to suffer as anxiety prickled over your skin.
You tried to distract yourself with a small craft, you really did, but only more frustration welled. You couldn’t keep still, and you finally cursed. Hands slammed against the desk, sending your paper crafts across the wood, into your mess of scraps.
Tears welled, and you pushed yourself away with your rolling chair—avoiding the further abuse you’d inflict on your workspace. Heat raged, and your nails drug through your hair, trying to pull yourself out of your head, but it wasn’t enough. No matter the distance you put within yourself, it never felt right.
You were stressed, anxious, and torn that you pushed the ones you loved away. And you could never fucking explain why. You just felt so angry. So turmoiled, that you didn’t even know what to do with yourself.
Your fists curled in your hair and a burning sensation followed, leaving you to feel something other than your pain.
But the unexplainable feeling grew, and it coursed through you like an endless loop of rage and helplessness. You didn’t know how to control it, and you didn’t know how to deal with it, you just couldn’t function.
Left, to right. Over and over, you paced your room. Trying to calm down, but a distant knock echoed.
"Hey, lunch is..." Usopp's voice trailed off as he saw your state, and he quickly backed off.
"Uh, I'll let Sanji know you—“
"Just go, please!" you snapped, banging your fists against your head. Your chest heaved, and Usopp’s breath caught.
"Yep! On it!" he squeaked, shutting your door.
Silence washed over the room, but peace didn't follow like it usually did. It was unbearable, and your body felt intolerable. Like you needed to do something, or you needed something. You couldn’t remember what or why, and nothing clearly came through…
The restlessness grew, and it was boiling.
You shakily went back to your desk, picking up the small paper you'd originally thrown with your trembling hands, trying to convince yourself it'd be okay. That you'd get through it.
You could just mend it. You could do it. It'd be okay. Just calm down.
You're fine.
It was just some small papery flowers, how hard could it be? Anyone could do it—you had this. You always did. You got frustrated and eventually came back to fix it. You just needed time.
So why couldn't you do it right now? You gave yourself plenty of time.
Though you still couldn't you function, and couldn't you think. Why the hell was it that you felt like you had no time? Like there was nothing but everything coming at you all at once? Why couldn't you—
"Oi, what's going on?" Zoro appeared by the door, and his voice was firm—steady. His presence was grounding, and it’d been something you’d always loved, but your body strangely hated it in the moment.
You were too lost in it to realize, but Usopp had probably been worried.
He must have told Zoro, because everyone knew he'd been your paper-weight. He kept you together, like a stack of paper, or in other words—aligned control. But, in the moment, you couldn’t understand that, and you’d eventually come to regret it later.
Zoro was tense at your silence, as he wasn’t often familiar with it. He was used to your laughter, and your clumsy remarks, even your stupid comments.
But he knew that wasn’t always you.
You kept yourself together well, until you couldn’t and you hid. He wasn’t an emotional guru or anything, but he’d been attentive enough to pick up on your behaviors.
Especially, when things took a turn for the worse.
He'd easily seen it this morning when you came in for break-fast and left, sparing no good-morning, no sweet smile, no teasing—you were just struggling.
You weren’t acting like you, and he hated it.
Zoro wouldn’t seem the empathetic type, but when it came to the ones he loved—his chest would uncomfortably ache. Especially when it came to you, who held herself so high yet was hurting so much deep down.
The sniper had startled him awake, quickly telling him—or, rather rambling to him, that you weren’t okay. It seemed rather urgent, and he looked offly looked worried, so Zoro obviously wouldn’t set it aside.
If you needed help, or guidance—you just did.
There was no easier way to put it, and it wasn’t embarrassing, it was just life.
And Zoro was never one to bullshit, but you could be sensitive at times. It wasn’t a bad thing, it just made things harder for you.
You could get worked up over the smallest of things, unintentionally snapping—or taking it the wrong way, blocking yourself off…
He’d seen the signs.
He always had.
And this was clearly one of those times, where something had gotten the better of you.
But little did he know, it wasn't just your anger. It wasn’t like the other times, something was painfully different. This was deeper.
Calmly, Zoro spoke your name.
You were quick to snap, but you turned away covering your face. You tried to calm yourself and catch your breath—but yet again, it wasn’t helping.
"Yes, I know, just give me second.” you replied, uncharacteristically hitting your desk. You hands slammed your poor creation, and tears began to well. You were cracking, and more frustration poured.
You snapped again, and a curse flew out your lips as you kicked your desk. It was harsh, and you were sent roughly back against the wall in your chair—creating a slam.
At your action, he knew you were overwhelmed. Hell, he’d felt it as soon as he came in, but as you curled in on yourself—digging your nails, it only confirmed it.
A muffled sob broke through the silence, and he was beside you in seconds.
In two steps, he’d crouched down infront of you.
His calloused hands, prevented you from hurting yourself, though his touch wasn’t rough. It was strong, and it was strong enough to keep you from pushing away or thrashing.
He needed you here, with him, and not lost somewhere else.
"Breathe." he ordered.
"I can’t, just stop, don’t—fucking touch me!” you choked, attempting to squirm, "Zoro stop it.”
Your lover doesn’t break, nor’ does he stop. He only holds you tighter, as if he knows you’ll only spiral further.
Your breath is labored, struggled—and he can already see you slip.
His gaze softens, and he steadily pulls you into his lap. Zoro doesn't comfort you with words, but he does with the way he knows how—his presence.
By being there, holding you—grounding you, tightening his grip as you stubbornly try to push away, he doesn't let go.
He silently urges you to relax; creating absent circles over your back, as his hand tightens at the base of your neck, pushing you easily to his shoulder.
His legs lock to come around your own, pulling, to keep you in.
"Stop fighting me, you'll only make it worse," his voice rumbles over the crown of your head, and you can’t help but feel comforted.
You want to agree, you want to stop, but your body doesn't. It involuntarily moves, and you cry as you push against his chest, growing light-headed.
But the dizziness forces your body to relax.
Your shoulders slack, and you ease. Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath.
"You good, now?" he asks, keeping a gentle grip.
You sniffle, nodding as you can't bare yourself to look up at him. You don't even know what came over you, and you can barely remember what happened.
You feel like an idiot.
Embarrassed, guilty—ashamed, just wrong.
"Yeah, I’m sorry.” you whispered, leaning back.
Though Zoro doesn’t let up, he keeps you in his lap and his hands shift to cradle your face.
“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” his thumbs wipes your tears, and you can’t help but lean into them.
“I should’ve come down earlier, I didn’t know you were getting so worked up.”
"It's okay," you mumbled, lowering your gaze, but he tilts you back up.
"____, it's not. You know that, what’s going on?”
"I don't know," you manage out, and his look crushed you.
You know he wants to understand, he always does, the whole crew does, but you’re not even sure yourself. A weight topples over you, and you suddenly remember the way you snapped at Usopp.
Shit. You didn’t mean that—you didn’t mean any of this.
Why weren’t you doing anything right?
"I just, I don’t know.” your voice broke, and you turned away. “I couldn’t stop, it wouldn’t go away.”
"Then, why didn't you come to me?"
"Because, it's too much, everything feels like too much.” you whimpered, covering a hand over your mouth. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to snap at you—or Usopp. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”
"Hey—stop, look at me." he adjusted you forward, and this time he held your gaze.
His eyes carried a warmth, and it felt like a safety you never had the privilege of experiencing.
"Sorry,” you whispered.
"No. Don’t. Don’t, go apologizing. No one needs that.” Zoro’s hand ran through your hair, and he focused forward. You needed to hear this, and he’d say it over and over until you didn’t.
“You don’t need to apologize for feeling something, no one expects you to be perfect all the time—and I sure as hell don’t give a shit if you snap at shit you didn’t mean.” his lips twitched into a smile, as he remembered a time you cursed at Luffy for grabbing your food.
He liked your unexpected anger, even if it was this.
“The crew sees, I see you. And that’s all that matters.” he murmurs, and he sees you crack a smile.
Good. You needed that.
“You hear me?”
“Yeah, I do.” you sniffled, nodding your head, “loud and clear.”
He let out a breath, “good. Now C’mere.”
Zoro shifted, leaning against the wall to hug you close. He was being soft, and he was being kind.
In his own Zoro, way of course, but he was still there. He always would be.
He cupped the side of your head, letting you bury yourself into the crook of his neck.
Your lover wanted to take away anything that had harmed you, but that took time—and he realized that. But he didn’t mind hugging you a little longer to fix it.
He wasn’t going anywhere, and little did he know, this was all anyone could ask for.
Someone who still loved you at your lowest.
you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?
characters: luffy, kidd, katakuri, shanks and mihawk
(zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo)
a/n: since a loooot asked for more, here I am eheh
words count: around 0.4k - 1.1k each
masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi
You don’t know when it started.
Maybe it was the way Luffy always stole food from your plate, but make sure to never let anyone else touch it.
Maybe it was how he always grabbed your hand first whenever the crew split up.
Maybe it was how he insisted on napping with you, his head always finding your lap, his arms always looping around you like a makeshift pillow.
Whatever it was, it had been going on for way too long. And the worst part is that you never questioned it.
Until now.
It starts with Sanji.
You’re sitting at the dinner table, picking at your food, when Sanji suddenly snorts “You two should just date already.”
You blink “…What?”
Sanji gestures between you and Luffy “You’re basically a couple anyway.”
You choke on your drink.
Luffy just tilts his head, mid-bite “Huh?”
Sanji raises an eyebrow “Seriously? You guys act like a couple all the time.”
You open your mouth to argue, to deny everything, but then Nami nods “He’s right, you know.”
Usopp grins “Yeah, I mean, have you even seen yourselves?”
Franky chuckles “Super obvious, bro.”
You stare. And then Zoro, of all people, grunts “They’re not wrong.”
Your brain short-circuits. Luffy just blinks at all of them, then turns to you “Wait… are we a couple?”
Your face burns “No!”
The crew groans.
“Oh, come on.”
“You’re in denial.”
“This is painful to watch.”
You glare “We’re just friends!”
Luffy nods “Yeah! Just friends!”
The crew stares. Then Brook smiles “Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked y/n out on a date?”
Silence.
Then Luffy’s fork snaps in half and the table goes dead quiet.
Luffy grins at Brook, but it’s not his usual happy-go-lucky grin. It’s the grin he wears before picking a fight.
“Yohoho,” Brook laughs nervously “Just kidding.”
Luffy hums, still smiling “Good.”
Your stomach flips because holy shit. That was jealousy. Luffy was jealous... Over you.
The realization haunts you for the rest of the night. Because if Luffy was jealous then what did that mean?
Did he actually—?
No.
No, this is Luffy. He’s just protective. That’s just who he is.
…Right?
You barely sleep, and the next morning you wake up to Luffy in your bed.
Sprawled across your mattress. Arms locked around your waist. Face buried in your shoulder.
Like it’s completely normal.
Like he always does this.
Your heart pounds.
Because—wait!
He does always do this. Every night. Every time you’re on the Sunny, he sneaks into your bed without even asking. And you never questioned it.
Because it was just Luffy.
But now everything feels different.
You slowly try to move, but his grip tightens.
“Mm… don’t go” he mumbles sleepily, lips brushing against your skin.
And that’s it. You lose it.
“LUFFY, WHAT ARE WE?!”
Luffy jerks awake “Huh—?”
“What are we?!” you repeat, flustered as hell.
Luffy rubs his eyes, confused “We’re us.”
You groan “That’s not an answer!”
He tilts his head “What do you mean?”
You gesture wildly “This! Us! The sleeping together! The hand-holding! The food-sharing!”
Luffy suddenly grins “Oh.”
Your heart stops “What do you mean, oh?”
Luffy laughs. And then, without hesitation, he leans in and kisses you.
Soft. Certain.
Like he’s been waiting to do it forever.
You freeze. Your brain short-circuits.
He pulls back, grinning “So? Are we a couple now?”
You gape “…WHAT?!”
Luffy just laughs “Well, we’ve basically been dating this whole time, right?”
Your eye twitches “AND YOU KNEW?!”
Luffy shrugs “I just thought you knew too.”
You sputter, because what the hell. What the actual hell. Luffy just decided you were dating. And you never even noticed.
You flop back onto the bed.
Luffy just grins, tugging you closer “You’re thinking too much” he mumbles, nuzzling against you.
Your heart races.
Your face is burning.
But… maybe the crew was right. Maybe you and Luffy were always meant to be.
Even if you were the last person to realize it.
You’ve always known Kid was the stubborn type. He was gruff, intense, and always had that tough guy act. But lately, you’ve noticed something strange. The more you were around him, the more he didn’t seem to mind you being there. In fact, he almost seemed to expect it.
It starts with those small things, things he doesn’t think twice about. Like when you’re both sitting on the deck, and a gust of wind hits just as you’re about to stand. Before you can catch your balance, Kid’s hand shoots out, steadying you. He doesn’t say anything, but his grip lingers just long enough for you to notice.
“Watch it” he mutters, his usual gruff tone, but there’s something softer behind his eyes. You smile but say nothing. Killer, standing nearby, simply raises an eyebrow before looking away, smirking under his mask.
A few days later, when the crew is at port, you notice Kid keeping an eye on you more than usual. Every time someone gets too close or even bumps into you, his sharp gaze zeroes in, and he doesn’t hesitate to step in between you and whoever’s too close. At one point, a shady pirate from a different crew tries to flirt with you. Before you can even respond, Kid steps forward, pushing the pirate away with a low growl.
“Get lost.”
You blink, surprised at his intensity, but he doesn’t look at you, just at the pirate who’s now backing off.
“Kid, I can handle myself” you say, rolling your eyes.
“Doesn’t mean you should have to” he grumbles under his breath, clearly annoyed by something. He turns away before you can say anything else, muttering about how annoying it is to babysit you. But you know it’s not just that.
The crew knows it too.
Heat lets out a low whistle as he passes by “Damn, Captain, didn’t know you were the protective boyfriend type.”
Kid turns on him with a glare “Shut the hell up.”
Heat just laughs, walking away. You shake your head, but the warmth in your chest lingers.
Then, it all comes to a head one evening. The crew’s just finished a round of celebrations, the ship rocking gently in the quiet of the night. You’re leaning against the rail, enjoying the peace when you feel him behind you.
“Can’t sleep?” Kid asks, his voice low as usual.
You turn around, finding him standing there, arms crossed, the moonlight casting a soft glow over his scowling face.
“I could ask you the same thing” you reply.
There’s a quiet moment as you both stand there, not speaking. His eyes never leave yours, and the tension between you both seems to grow with every passing second.
Suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching. Instinctively, you move closer to Kid. You don’t even think about it, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand shifts from where it was casually resting at his side to just hovering near your waist.
The ship creaks, the quiet atmosphere making you both more aware of each other’s presence. He doesn’t speak. Neither do you. His fingers are so close, just barely grazing your side as if to assure himself you’re right there.
The closeness feels… different. Intimate.
You glance up at him “Kid?” you ask softly, your heart beating a little faster.
He doesn’t answer immediately, instead, his eyes flicker over your face, and you can see the internal struggle within him. It’s a battle, and for a second, you think he might just ignore it, keep up the stubborn front.
But then, his hand finally rests against your side. His touch isn’t harsh, but gentle. You don’t pull away.
“I don’t know why I keep doing this shit” he admits, his voice low but clear “But when it comes to you… I don’t want to risk something happening.”
You blink, surprised “Risk what?”
His gaze softens, and the gruffness in his tone fades away. He looks straight at you, the usual deflective annoyance replaced with something more vulnerable.
“I don’t want anyone else near you. Not after I saw that idiot trying to hit on you.”
You smile, your heart fluttering in your chest “Kid, I’m not a damsel in distress.”
“I know,” he replies quickly, but there’s no hiding the quiet affection in his voice now “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”
His words hit you harder than you expected, and before you can even respond, something unspoken passes between you both. In a split second, his lips are near yours, and the kiss is soft, almost hesitant, like he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to show this side of himself.
But you kiss him back, your hand gently resting against his chest. The kiss lingers for a moment longer than either of you anticipated, but it feels like the world has paused, like this is the only thing that matters in that moment.
When you pull away, you both stand there in silence, but this time, it’s not awkward. It’s comfortable.
And then the moment is completely shattered by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both snap your heads toward the entrance to the deck, where Killer and Wire are standing, watching with amused expressions.
“So,” Wire says, smirking, “you two finally gonna admit you’re basically married, or should we keep pretending this isn’t happening?”
Your face heats up immediately, but Kid just groans, rubbing a hand down his face.
“Go to hell” he grumbles.
Killer just shakes his head “Too late, Captain. Everyone’s been taking bets on when you’d figure it out.”
You gape “What?”
Wire grins “Yeah. Heat won. He said you’d kiss before the next port. Guess we owe him a round of drinks.”
Kid looks absolutely done. You, on the other hand, can’t help but laugh. Because honestly? It’s not surprising.
You look back up at Kid, who’s still scowling but isn’t pulling away from you. You squeeze his hand briefly before grinning.
“Guess we were the last ones to know, huh?”
He exhales sharply, shaking his head, but there’s no real annoyance in his expression anymore. Just acceptance. And maybe, just maybe, the start of something real.
Being part of the Red Hair Pirates meant living in a constant mess of drinking, laughing, and reckless adventures.
And somehow you ended up being the most responsible one. Which was probably why everyone assumed you and Shanks were together.
The problem?
You weren’t.
But apparently, no one got the memo.
It starts with Yasopp.
You’re in the middle of patching up Shanks’ arm because, once again, he got into a bar fight for fun, when Yasopp smirks at you from across the deck.
“You know,” he says casually, “you’re basically married to him at this point.”
You nearly stab Shanks with the needle.
“What?!”
Shanks, meanwhile, just laughs.
And the worst part? He doesn’t even deny it.
“C’mon,” Yasopp continues, “you take care of him, clean up after him, yell at him when he’s reckless...”
“I yell at all of you.”
“Yeah, but you baby him.”
Shanks grins “It’s true. You do.”
You glare “I do not.”
Shanks just shrugs “If you say so.”
And that should be the end of it. But it’s not.
Because after that the whole crew starts treating you like... ugh.
“Oi, Y/N! Can you grab Shanks another drink?”
“Y/N, tell the captain to stop picking fights with Marines again.”
“Hey, Y/N, Shanks says he wants something spicy, maybe you could help... and it's not about food”
You want to scream.
But Shanks?
Shanks just goes along with it. Smiling. Laughing. Letting everyone assume you’re his.
And the worst part is that you let them, because deep down you don’t hate the idea.
And that’s dangerous.
Then one night, it all clicks.
You’re sitting at a bonfire, surrounded by the crew, listening to them sing and drink and bicker over who can hold their liquor best.
You’re not paying attention until you hear your name.
“So, Captain,” Lucky Roux says, “when’s the wedding?”
You choke on your drink. But before you can argue, Shanks just grins.
“Oh, give it time.”
The crew erupts into laughter.
You just stare at him.
Because... what????
Shanks turns to you, smiling like he didn’t just casually imply he plans on marrying you.
And something in his expression—
Something warm. Something knowing.
It hits you all at once.
The hand-holding. The lingering touches. The way he always pulls you onto his lap when there’s no room to sit.
The way he lets you fuss over him when he gets hurt, the way he only ever listens to you.
The way he looks at you like you’re something precious.
Your heart pounds.
And Shanks just grins against your lips.
“Took you long enough” he murmurs.
And when you pull back, breathless, flustered, you realize that maybe you’ve been his this whole time.
You blink, heart still racing as the weight of his words settles in. The laughter of the crew fades into background noise, the warmth of the bonfire casting flickering shadows over Shanks’ face. He’s watching you, waiting, like he already knows the answer, like he’s known it for years.
And maybe he has.
Maybe he’s been waiting for you to catch up.
Your throat is dry. You open your mouth, but no words come out, just a strangled sound of disbelief.
Shanks chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners “You alright there, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he hasn’t just upended everything you thought you knew.
Your hands tighten in his shirt, and you can’t tell if it’s to ground yourself or to pull him closer “You...” you swallow, voice quieter now, meant just for him “You should’ve said something...”
He tilts his head, considering “I thought I did. Plenty of times.”
You scowl, smacking his chest lightly, which only makes him laugh “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Oh, I know.” His fingers brush your jaw, featherlight, reverent “I just like seeing you all flustered.”
You groan, but you don’t pull away. And well, that says everything, doesn’t it?
And Shanks knows it too, because his grin softens, something unreadable flickering in his gaze “So,” he murmurs, close enough that his breath tickles your lips, “now that you’ve finally figured it out, what do you plan to do about it?”
The challenge is there, teasing, but there’s something raw beneath it, something real.
You take a breath. Then, before you can overthink it, you grab the front of his coat and pull him in, kissing him again, firmer this time.
The crew erupts in cheers. Someone whistles. Someone else yells about winning a bet.
But all you can focus on is the way Shanks smiles against your lips, like he’s just won something far more important.
And maybe you have too.
The first time someone calls you Katakuri’s spouse, you nearly drop your mochi donut.
“Excuse me, what?”
The Big Mom Pirates stare at you like you’re stupid.
“Well, yeah,” Oven says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “You take care of him, he lets you into his tea time, you’re the only one who sees his face—”
Brûlée smirks “And you always defend him when people talk behind his back.”
Daifuku nods “Might as well be married already.”
You sputter “That doesn’t mean—! We’re not—! He’s just my commander!”
Oven raises an eyebrow “You ever see Katakuri treat anyone else the way he treats you?”
You freeze.
Because... okay.
That’s a good point.
Katakuri isn’t exactly warm with people. He’s respected, feared, distant. A perfectionist. The strongest Sweet Commander.
And yet, with you?
He lets you tease him. Lets you see him.
Lets you in.
Your stomach flips.
And you don’t know what to do with that.
You try to forget about it.
But after that you start noticing things.
The way Katakuri always saves you the best snacks at tea time.
The way he steps in front of you during battles without thinking.
The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his back, his face.
His unguarded moments are always with you.
And suddenly you can’t ignore it.
Neither can the crew.
It all comes to a head one evening.
You’re sitting with Katakuri in his usual spot, tea cooling beside him, the setting sun casting a warm glow over his sharp features. He’s eating, as usual, but his guard is down because you’re here.
And then the words slip out.
“…Katakuri.”
He glances at you, chewing “Hm?”
You hesitate. Then screw it.
“Are we… something?”
Katakuri pauses.
Slowly, he sets his cup down. Then he exhales, like he’s been waiting for this.
“You tell me,” he says, voice steady “Would it bother you if we were?”
Your heart pounds. Because no, it wouldn’t.
You swallow “No.”
Katakuri watches you for a long moment. Then, he smirks.
“Then I suppose we are.”
Your brain short-circuits.
“Wait—WHAT?!”
Katakuri chuckles, low and deep “Did you really think I’d let just anyone this close to me?”
You gasp, because hold on. Has he known this whole time?!
Your face burns “You could’ve said something sooner, you jerk!”
Katakuri just leans closer, his presence overwhelming.
“…Would you have been ready to hear it?”
You freeze, because damn it.
He’s right.
Living on Kuraigana Island with Mihawk isn’t easy, but somehow, you get used to it.
You get used to the silence. The way he watches you over the rim of his wine glass. The way he corrects your sword stance with the barest touch of his fingers.
You get used to the way he does things for you without asking, bringing you an extra plate at meals, fixing your sword when it’s damaged, moving his coat so you don’t sit on the cold stone steps.
It’s just how he is... Or so you think.
Until one day Perona stares at the two of you across the dining table and snorts.
“You guys act like a married couple.”
You choke on your drink. Mihawk just raises an eyebrow.
Perona grins “Oh, come on! You live together, train together, eat together—hell, you even drink out of each other’s cups sometimes!”
You freeze.
Because—wait. When did that start happening?!
You sneak a glance at Mihawk, expecting him to argue.
But instead, he just takes a sip of wine and says, “And?”
Your brain short-circuits.
Because what does he mean, ‘and’?!
Perona cackles “Oh, this is gold.”
Meanwhile, you’re too busy spiraling to notice the small, knowing smirk on Mihawk’s lips.
Because the truth is, he knew all along.
The next few days pass in a strange haze. Every time you’re near Mihawk, you’re hyper-aware of his actions. The way he hands you your sword when it’s too heavy for you to lift properly, the way he adjusts your stance when you’re practicing, even the way he leaves his wine glass half-filled so you can sip it without asking.
You can’t help but start noticing the little things. And it makes your stomach do these strange little flips you can’t quite explain.
You try to convince yourself that you’re just overthinking it. After all, you’ve spent so much time together, working side-by-side, that it’s only natural for him to be a bit… attentive. But you can’t help but feel that there’s more to it than that.
One evening, you’re training in the yard. Mihawk is watching from the porch, as usual, but today there’s something different in the air. Maybe it’s the cool breeze, or the strange feeling of him staring at you.
“Focus” he calls out when you fumble with your sword.
You grit your teeth and refocus, sweat already beading on your forehead. Your movements become sharper, more determined, but you can’t quite shake the feeling that something is… off.
When you finish the routine, Mihawk’s still leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his gaze. You give him a quick, sideways glance, noticing the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Something wrong?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
His response comes as a slow, deliberate drawl “You still aren’t quite in sync with your sword. I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”
You feel your face flush, but you push through it “Yeah? Well, I’m not some grandmaster swordsman like you, Mihawk.”
He steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming, but his gaze softens for a moment “You’re getting better. I’m simply making sure you don’t lose track of your progress.”
The softness in his voice catches you off-guard, and for a split second, you feel as if you’re standing on the edge of something, something new.
But you quickly push it aside, shaking it off as just another passing thought. You turn to grab your sword again, determined to change the subject.
“Thanks for the help,” you mutter, trying to keep your voice steady “But I think I need a break. My arms are sore.”
Mihawk doesn’t respond at first. Instead, he merely watches you for a moment before he speaks again, his tone unusually gentle.
“Are you sure you’re fine? You’ve been training for hours without rest.”
You give him a small, appreciative nod “I’ll be fine. You’re too used to looking out for me, Mihawk.”
He lets out a faint chuckle, but you notice that there’s a strange intensity in his gaze now “I suppose I am.”
Before you can react, you feel something slightly off, a flicker of tension between you two.
It’s subtle, but it’s there. And you feel it in the way he looks at you, the way he almost seems to be waiting for you to say something.
But, just like that, the moment passes. He steps back, motioning for you to take a rest.
“I’ll prepare dinner,” he says quietly, as if nothing had happened “I’m sure you’re hungry.”
You blink “You cook?”
“Of course,” he says with a slight, almost invisible smirk “It’s not difficult, and you’ve been working hard all day. You deserve a proper meal.”
You feel your heart race at his words, but you manage to keep it together “Alright, I’ll take you up on that.”
But as Mihawk turns to walk away, you pause.
For just a second, you wonder... has this always been a normal interaction between you two? Or has it grown into something more without you even realizing it?
The unease gnaws at you as you sit down on the steps, watching him disappear into the house.
You’re overthinking it. You’re just friends.
...Right?
Later that evening, you’re sitting across from Mihawk, your meal already finished. The conversation is easy, but there’s still that lingering, unspoken tension hanging in the air.
Finally, Mihawk breaks the silence, his voice low and casual “You’ve been avoiding the subject.”
Your brow furrows in confusion “What subject?”
“The subject of us.”
You choke on your drink, sputtering “What—us?!”
His expression remains unreadable, but there’s a faint glimmer in his eyes “You think I haven’t noticed? You’ve been acting strange around me lately. Ever since Perona made her comment.”
You freeze “I—uh—”
“Let’s stop pretending,” he continues “We’ve been behaving like a couple, whether we admit it or not.”
Your heart starts to race. You open your mouth to deny it, but the words get stuck. Instead, you just stare at him, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.
And that’s when Mihawk leans forward just slightly, his voice dropping lower “I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I do know that I don’t want you to leave.”
The bluntness of his words takes your breath away.
“I never planned to leave” you manage to say, the words barely leaving your lips.
Mihawk gives you a rare, genuine smile, one that’s so small and almost imperceptible that you’re not sure you saw it at all. But something in his eyes shifts.
“Good.”
And just like that, the tension finally breaks.
You’re not sure where this will go. But for now, you’re content to just be here with him, uncertain, but sure of one thing: neither of you are going anywhere.
Monster Trio+Law x !Fem!Reader, crack, fluff, modern-au, poor core (real), cashier is going THROUGH IT, !Early-relationship! , Ugh I thought this was so adorable, might be my favorite so far
They take you on a date and their card declines in-front of you...
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Luffy
100% bought it all on fast food, he holds a Guinness World Record for the most amount of food eaten, period.
Would be confused at first, and wouldn't get it till you finally told him somethings wrong with his card. He about shoved it in there 100x times...
"HAH!? Why's it not working!''
"Wait huh seriously? Aww man..."
He'd definitely apologize and laugh it off. But he'd silent judge his card for failing him now as he attempted to finally buy you something. He’d definitely go and text Nami to Venmo him some quick money for you--in which she'd automatically decline.
(Much like his card)
Your bf would grumble, but he'd be quick to mask it with his short attention span.
He ended up dragging you into another random store after finding a whopping 5 bucks on the ground, sopping wet and crumpled from the rain... But somehow the cashier accepted it out of pity and he'd managed to buy you a little doodad in exchange--coming up behind you with a surprise in hand.
He giddily spun you around gleaming with excitement as he pecked you on the cheek.
"Shisihi, look what I got youuu! It's awesome"
(It was a crooked hot-wheels, but you ended up putting it on your shelf to cherish it)
Zoro
Sake was his downfall. Alcohol as we all know is incredibly expensive so it wasn't even a surprise, you expected it to eventually happen with how much he loved his booze...
Moreover you'd think it was a turn off with all his bottles but he'd always been a responsible drinker, and he barely got drunk...maybe a few times if he'd finally eased up in your arms.
Though when he swiped his card, it hadn't gone through. He'd pause and play it off a first, trying again, but when the cashier finally told him their were insufficient funds he'd go beet red.
"I don't know what you're talking about, it's gotta be your stupid machine..."
Not slick, at. all.
He'd act dense abt it, though deep down he knew he royally fucked up, so much for a romantic date...
When you finally offered to pay, he stubbornly grumbled as you had placed some spare cash on the counter.
"Oi, You didn't have to do that..."
He wouldn't immediately say thank you, but he'd been quietly grateful you were smart to bring 'just in case' cash... which he'd also said wasn't necceasry... but look what happened.
You tended to be right in these scenarios.
A few days later he had begrudgingly said thank you and handed you some floppy but colorful flowers as he had randomly stopped by your house heading to work.
Coincidently getting lost, but he'd never admit it.
The offer was rather chaotic as you'd just gotten out of the shower, but it only made him more flustered.
"Didn't uh, mean to interrupt, just wanted to drop these off. And thank you for the other day."
Sanji
I physically cannot see this man's card declining, so he had probably used the wrong card...
But even if he did I could see him full on freaking out, like telling the cashier to run it again and crossing his arms as his fingers anxiously tapped on his arm. He almost went to call his bank until he realized it wasn't his main card and his embarrassed meter went through the roof.
He went pink, but as you offered to pay he immediately shut it down. Sanji would never let you pay for anything, he wanted to take care of you and spoil you like no other--so forget asking. Even if you weren't that far along in dating.
He'd rather search the floor for pennies than let you pay.
Though if you did somehow manage to pay, he'd pay you back beyonddd extra. Like I'm talking about full on flowers and little chocolates or anything romantic.
Even if you thought it was rude to accept, he'd quickly assure you it was okay and that 'he wanted to' so it didn't matter if it was 'payback' or not. He'd came over to hang out, and he'd gently grab your hand kissing it as he spoke with gentle words.
"My love, just take it please, it'd mean the world to me."
Law
Law's card wouldn't normally decline, but one of his transactions for his action figure(s) had finally come through and he didn't realized it till he'd taken you out for lunch.
The waiter had handed him back his card and he deadpanned for a moment--before telling them to try it again--but hopelessly it didn't make a difference. And to make things better the waiter outright said he was broke and needed a different form of payment.
Law would loathe the moment, feeling second-hand embarrassment for miles as he brooded wishing it happened anywhere else no mattering the time.
He'd be embarrassed, growing quiet with a darkened expression as he averted his gaze. Which it only intensified when you happily handed the waiter your card, assuring him it wasn't the end of the world... and that you were just happy to be here with him.
He had gone increasingly quiet, and you couldn't help but laugh as he covered his face with the tilt of his infamous hat.
"L-Let's just go."
This man would NEVER let it happen again, and he'd carefully watch his guilty spending habits with a sour expression. The thought of that moment practically kept him up at night.
Law didn't pay you back, but he'd taken a little time off work to spend more quality time with you as that seemed to make you happy. And your doctor-in-training wanted nothing more than to see your smile.
writing is so fun
summary: you had WAY past your drinking limit and now you're just exploding with LOVE for him.
characters: crocodile, mihawk, marco, ace, shanks, law, corazon
• ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ •
You’re swaying in his arms, eyes glossy, cheek pressed against his chest.
“Croco-babyyy…”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I LOVE you.”
He goes rigid.
You grab the front of his shirt.
“Like SOOO much. Like, if someone tried to stab you, I'd bite them. Right on the ankle.”
You squint.
“Your scary lil hook hand is soooo cool, I love it. You're my favorite angry man.”
He malfunctions. Literally just stares at you like you're an alien who dropped from heaven.
“You're drunk.”
“I'm in loveeeeeeee!”
You pass out mid-hug.
He just stands there. Frozen.
Mutters:
“...What the hell am I supposed to do with that.”
(Spoiler: He tucks you in and sits there watching you sleep like a guard dog with heartburn.)
You cling to his arm like a koala. You’re warm and soft and talking a mile a minute.
“You’re sooo handsome. Like, it’s RUDE actually. I have to look away sometimes cause you’re too hot and I feel like I’m gonna die.”
He blinks.
“You’re intoxicated.”
“I’m INTO YOU.”
He blinks again.
You poke his chest with a pout.
“Do you know how annoying it is to like someone who looks like a vampire prince and has very judgmental eyebrows?”
He raises one.
“THAT.”
Then you melt into his coat and sigh.
“I love you sooooooo much… If you asked me to run away and start a farm I’d do it. For you. I'd plant cucumbers.”
He doesn’t sleep that night.
You climb into his lap like a sleepy kitten.
“Marrrrrrcooooo…”
“Yeah, baby?”
You press your forehead to his.
“I love you SO much it’s dumb. Like, I wanna kiss your face and also cry and also buy you matching socks.”
He laughs softly.
“That’s a lotta feelings, huh?”
“It’s not my fault your smile makes me feel like life is worth living.”
He actually covers his face because holy shit that one got to him.
“I’m gonna fucking die, yoi.”
“Noooo you’re not, I love you too much. I won’t let you die. I’ll protect you with SOCKS.”
You fall asleep on him mid-rant.
He kisses your hair and whispers:
“You’re killin’ me, songbird.”
You run up to him and tackle-hug him.
“ACE I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!!”
“Wha—?!! Are you okay?!”
“I’m in love with you.”
“YOU’RE WHAT?!”
“Like a lot. Like, if you turned into a plant I’d water you.”
He’s already spiraling. Red. Stammering. Sweating.
“I—uh—what?! When?! Why?!!”
“Cause you’re cute and warm and you make my tummy do loop-de-loops.”
“SO DO YOU!!! WAIT—NO—WHAT AM I SAYING?!”
“Okay, wait, but would you love me if I was a worm?”
You both pass out cuddling under a table with Ace going into specific details about he'd take care of you if you were a worm and how you'd take care of him if he was a plant.
Sabo finds you both crying and whispers:
“Idiots. They deserve each other.”
You stumble in. Red-faced. Teary-eyed. Drunk on rum and love.
“Shanks…”
“Here we go…”
You grab his coat.
“I’m gonna say something crazy.”
“Hit me.”
“I’m in love with you. Like, I’d kill a seagull for you.”
“...That’s a weird standard but I’ll take it.”
“And I think your laugh is sexy. And your scars are cool. And your nose is NICE. And I’d marry you. Right now.”
He pauses.
Smiles.
“Say it again tomorrow when you’re sober, sweetheart.”
“Okay. But you’re mine now.”
“Deal. By the way, what’s your ring size?”
You shuffle in with a flushed face and a stuffed penguin.
“Trafalgaaaar…”
“Don’t slur my name.”
“I love you.”
He looks up from his book like you just summoned an ancient evil.
“Excuse me?”
“So much. You’re smart. And hot. And I like your hands. And your voice. And if you died I’d start a cult.”
“...A what.”
“A cult. With matching outfits. And hats.”
“You’re fevered.”
“I’m in love.”
You lean on his shoulder and then pass out on his lap.
He doesn’t move for two hours.
You run into him mid-giggle.
“ROSINANTEEEE!!”
He flails.
You grab his face and kiss his cheek.
“You are the love of my LIFE. Your laugh is cute. Your coat is STUPID but I LOVE IT. I love YOU.”
He goes full tomato. Tears are already streaming down his face.
You write “I’D DIE FOR YOU” on a sticky note and slap it to his chest.
Then immediately fall asleep in his arms.
He’s crying and hugging you and writing down “I LOVE YOU TOO” over and over and over.
He genuinely just loves you so much.
thats THEIR arc thank you very much
Trafalgar Law x !GN!Reader, Fluff, Crack, soft!law, unironically sweet, head-cannons, reader is a mechanic here, overprotective!law because secretly he cares too much, stubborn reader, comfort.
The Heart-Pirate Captain with an s/o who struggles with sleep...
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1st of all, this is insomniac central.
Law cannonly has nightmares, so you could definitely infer he struggles with sleep himself. Most likely kept up by whatever's gearing through his mind.
So he'd be incredibly understanding with you.
Law's the type to put you before himself. So no matter how tired he was he'd always check up on you. Whether you're working in the engine room, eating lunch, or relaxing in your room--he’d quietly seek you out.
Your captain was keen, and he’d been observant of your habits.
The surgeon wouldn't be overly concerned--but he would worry. You're his precious crew-mate and lover, so he's over-protective. Not in an annoying way, but selflessly.
Since Law is a doctor he would have a lot of sleep-aid. From herbal properties to medication—he'd give you anything you needed or asked for. Even if he ends up a hypocrite in the process.
He would act nonchalant and impassive about it, but deep down it’d wear on him.
Law would 100% have chill out time with you in his office if you were tired, or just in general.
In each-other’s presence, the company would drive away any restlessness. Including Law and yourself. So be prepared to snooze off in each other's arms or space.
If you'd cuddled him or sat close, he'd be out like a light. His head would be the first to fall against your shoulder or thigh with a bonk.
You wouldn't expect him to be the clingy type, but if you're there—he'd prefer you much closer.
He would find comfort in your pulse when you’re sleep. (As it wasn't often you were)
Law would tenderly take in your snoozing form, gently crouching beside you to take your pulse. His own worries would ease when your pulse thrummed softly against the pads of his fingers.
When you’re asleep, he’d be the type to quietly watch over you, gently brushing your hair or stick close. His touch would be uncharacteristically soft, and so would his words.
“Just relax, I got you…”
“You look peaceful when you sleep…I wish you did it more often.”
When having bad nights, he wouldn’t push, but he would be there. He’d silently offer to let you rant, or seek comfort. But he would never push. Law just wanted you to know he’d always be there for you. (No matter the burden you believed yourself to be)
Law isn't officially 'cold' or 'uncaring' when comforting people, he's just an awkward dude who isn't the best at it... but he is an amazing listener.
However, if you'd ever been stubborn about your sleep, he'd meet your pettiness with his own. He'd scold and lecture, but it was never meant harmfully.
He was just frustrated he couldn’t help you faster.
Law would never make you feel bad about it, because it's not always your fault. There could be a thousand things wrong, but he wasn't gonna’ let himself be one of them.
He wouldn't bullshit you, and it might come off rather blunt, but he just wanted to get straight to the point. He didn't want you getting hurt, not on his watch, or just in general.
“____-ya, I don't need my star mechanic running on nothing. Nor' do I need you passing out on my sub. If you’re tired, you are tired. You don’t need to push yourself. Not for me or the crew.”
“Look, if something happens in the engine room or navigation—I need you. I need you well so you can perform at your best. I'm not losing you, and I’m not letting you pass out and hurt yourself because of your recklessness.”
“So just take it easy, alright? You're on rest for the day, and that's final, don't make me babysit you. I trust you enough that I don't have to.”
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Despite his harsh words, they were true. But being stubborn was your specialty, and you felt the need to prove yourself. So pushing yourself to clean the valves and filters was your next task—even though he didn’t give you any.
It’d been after a rough night, so you were irritable, and you’d been snappy. Even if you didn’t mean to be, it was just the way it was.
Without sleep, you were weaker and more emotional and you hated it. Your ego hurt, not only by his lecture, but at the fact you couldn’t function as easily as others. So that frustration, that deep welling hate fueled your resolve.
Though it didn’t last.
Law had found you snoozing off and covered with grime in the engine room, sleeping at an awkward angle. Your were cuddled against a pipe, using it as your pillow as your black-stained hands supported your head.
Your cheeks had been smeared with oil, and your messied suit had been covered with it. Tools and disposable bags had been near by, and the room was spotless. Shining against after a long month, he found himself frozen at the sight.
He’d slowly let out a breath, easing up as he kneeled beside you—gently shaking your shoulder. He wasn’t mad, only frustrated.
But that frustration let up as you didn’t stir, only slept exhausted. And that made his chest ache the most.
You didn’t need to prove yourself to him, you had already done that. The moment he saw you, he recognized your skills—and your personality took the cake. You already far surpassed his expectations and he could want nothing more, other than you.
He’d always been grateful, accepting you at whatever you came—your lowest—your highest, he loved you regardless.
Law just wished you wouldn’t push yourself to prove something you didn’t need to.
He would gently pick you up, looking around the room before cradling your face with his hand. He’d crack a soft unbelievable smile, before shaking his head and bringing you to his room.
Law would call you an idiot placing you on his bed, carefully taking off your shoes before tucking you in. He’d wipe a warm cloth across your face, cleaning away the harsh oils before it stained too much.
He’d watch you with tender eyes, brushing hair out of your face before letting you be. He’d rest at his desk, reading, but watching your from afar—waiting for you to stir.
He wouldn’t lecture you like he did before, but he might just reassure you that you didn’t have to do this. And he might just thank you for cleaning the engine room.
In his own Law way of course.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Your captain would always be adamant about your health. No matter your argument or fuss—you were one of his top priorities.
Not ever in a tasking way. But maybe in an awkward loving one.
No matter the difficulty of his or your own, he’d always be patient, and he’d encourage you to go at your own pace.
Because everyone was different, and he was perfectly okay with that.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
With Law’s silent assurance and presence, your atrocious schedule had been eased.
Though it’d still been noticeable. The bags under your eyes pointed you out, and your snoozing tendencies didn’t help. The crew found you asleep in various workspaces many times, and it hadn’t really been a concern.
And as long as they believed you were getting enough sleep, they wouldn’t bother you about it.
Everyone had gotten used to it, but it didn’t mean they let up in the teasing. Light-hearted remarks had been thrown, but you never paid them any mind. If anything your captain listened to them more than you did.
He didn’t participate in it, but he let everyone have their fun. Until Shachi’s rather dark humor had been thrown into play.
You’d been dozing off at the table at lunch, slowly eating but surely getting in the nutrients you needed. You’d been sitting by Ikkaku and Shachi while your captain sat across from you.
“You sure you don’t wanna go lay down ____?” Hakugan asked, handing you over a basket of croutons. “A little nap might help.”
“No, I’m fine.” you muttered, mixing some in with your salad. Your jaw rested in your palm, and you stirred your salad around before taking a bite.
The tables conversation flew over your head and you could only think of what you’d do next after lunch. Train? Sleep? Clean? Be bored and bug your captain? It’d probably end up in the last one, but nothing stopped you from changing it.
“Mm, if you say so,” Ikkaku butted, taking a bite of her sandwich. “You really shouldn’t push yourself, I don’t want to find you asleep on the examination table again.”
Shachi snorted beside you, and you heard laughs echo around.
“Right? Scared the shit of me, I thought you were going in for surgery.” Penguin chuckled.
Law cracked a smile, watching you shake your head. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, it totally was,” Ikkaku teased, nudging your shoulder.
“It could’ve been worse,” Clione muttered, “finding you asleep on the control panel was not on my wish list.”
“Pff—yeah, right next to the throttle? Real smart kid,” Bart commented, plopping down another dish of food.
More laughs followed and you found yourself hiding your expression behind your sandwich, smiling quietly behind it. You took a big bite before Shachi started in.
“Oh, it was worse—remember? She fell asleep mid filter change and it totally blew up on her,” he laughed, gently knocking your head with his fist.
“Ew, don’t remind me.” you winced, making a face.
“Nah, you’re so stubborn about it I might have too.” he said, finishing up his sandwich.
“I’m starting to think someone needs to slip some sleep-aid into your drink.”
“Yeah—that’d get you some well earned rest,” Uni rolled his eyes, side-eyeing Law for a moment, seeing his expression darken.
He coughed in his fist, nudging Bepo.
“Uh, Captain?” The navigator sputtered, blinking idly at him.
Law didn’t respond, only deadpanning at Shachi who hadn’t yet realized his annoyance. It seemed he took the joke literally. Especially when he knew you didn’t like the symptoms of sleep-aid, it only irked him more.
“You go and do that and you’ll find a shit ton of laxatives in your coffee.” he said blandly, threateningly poking his fork.
The table quieted before Shachi coughed on his food, quickly swallowing it. He hit his chest, using you as a shield. Which you were mindlessly unaware of.
“Woah—haha, only joking Cap!" He paled, patting your back. "Right ____? All fun here, I'd never," he continued, nervously laughing.
"Mhmf, only jokes,” you muffled, with a mouthful of food.
Law paused, looking you over before rolling his eyes at your clueless expression. He layed off, but didn’t completely rest his glare. Law does not play around with you, not matter the joke or tease.