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.
Heyy! Love your work! I have an idea for law and ace (my goattss dont playy lol), but it can be for anyone else in one piece too! I was thinking reader thats similar to Maomao(apothecary diaries) and her obsession with poisons, eating it etc. As for plot, really up to you but I have an idea, maybe they dock at a new island with lots of herbs and their caught trying to eat the most textbook poison looking plant, no doubt thats not poisonous type of plant. Idk it can be like their secret or something. A lil basic cause I have the creativity of a stick, so if u think of something better then plss do it no hesitation fr!! If you do write this thank youuuu!! 🫶🫶
a/n: I don't know the anime/character but I hope I got the intention of it right after a small google research T.T
characters: law (wc 2.6k), ace (wc 3.6k)
tags: poison enthusiast reader, slow burn, humor, fluff (eventually)
masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi
The island is lush. Dense, dripping green stretches as far as the eye can see, humid air thick with the scent of earth and herbs. From the deck of the Polar Tang, you practically bounce on your heels.
“Is that… purple nightshade?” you whisper, eyes gleaming unnaturally.
“Don’t eat it.” Law says without looking up from the chart he’s examining, standing nearby. His voice is as flat as the sea on a windless day.
“I wasn’t going to…” you lie.
He turns his head a fraction, golden eyes narrowing “Yes, you were.”
You hum innocently, stuffing your medical satchel with your vials and note scrolls “I’m just here to observe, Captain.”
Shachi leans over the railing besides you “This place gives me the creeps. Everything looks like it wants to kill you.”
“Or cure you” you murmur, a little too enthusiastically.
Penguin eyes you warily “Why do you sound excited about that?”
You flash them a polite smile “Because it’s fun.”
Law sighs, sharp and tired “No wandering alone. You stick close to the group. Got it?”
You nod obediently “Of course.”
He doesn’t buy it. No one does.
The island is a botanical goldmine. You’re taking notes faster than your ink can dry. Moss that numbs the tongue, vines that smell like overripe peaches but rot skin on contact, and…oh. You spot it.
A crimson-stemmed flower, petals a sickly sweet yellowish pink, growing under the shade of a tree.
You gasp.
Law, who had started sketching a tree trunk for identification, stiffens “Don’t.”
“But it’s not poisonous!” you defend, already crouching, eyes wild “It looks like it, but this is Miracle’s Folly. It only mimics toxic flora to keep herbivores away. You can eat it, and it has incredible stimulant properties.”
“You just said it looks poisonous.”
“Exactly!” You pluck one with clinical precision “I’ve never seen one in the wild before. This is amazi—”
Law snatches it from your hand, holding it between two fingers like it’s radioactive.
“You’re obsessed” he accuses.
You blink “I prefer the term enthusiastic professional.”
“You tried to eat a known neurotoxin last week.”
“I suspected it was a neurotoxin. And I was right, wasn’t I?”
“You lost motor control for six hours.”
“It was valuable data.”
He stares. You stare back, unbothered.
There’s a beat of silence before Shachi and Penguin burst out laughing behind you.
“She’s gonna kill herself one day” Shachi cackles.
“Captain’s gonna lose his mind before then” Penguin adds.
Law exhales through his nose. He pockets the flower, out of your reach “You’re banned from going anywhere without supervision.”
Your eye twitches “Captain, please. This is a scientific expedition—”
He turns “Touch another cursed-looking plant and I’ll have Bepo chain you to the ship.”
You pout “Kinky.”
His ears turn red. You catch it.
Later that night, while the others are prepping camp, you quietly flip open your hidden pouch. Inside: one perfectly preserved Miracle’s Folly bloom.
You smirk “I am a professional.”
You glance at the campfire where Law is sipping his tea, glancing up only when your giggles reach him.
His eyes narrow again.
You chew the petal. Slowly. Carefully.
It’s bitter. Burns the tip of your tongue. But beneath that… Electricity.
The world tingles. Not in a hallucinatory way but in a sharpened, humming, this-might-kill-me-or-make-me-a-god sort of way.
You lean back on your heels, staring up at the canopy as the flower’s effects trickle through your veins “Oh, I have to isolate what’s responsible for this…”
“What are you muttering now?”
Law’s voice cuts through your thoughts like a scalpel.
You jolt and whip your head around. He’s standing there, arms crossed, dark brows drawn low.
You swallow quickly “Nothing.”
His eyes narrow “You’re sweating.”
“It’s humid.”
“Your pupils are dilated.”
“I’m excited to be alive.”
He steps closer. You instinctively step back, hiding your pouch under your coat. He notices.
“Show me what’s in your bag.”
“No.”
“Y/N.”
You sigh, dramatic “You know, trust is the foundation of any good captain-crew relationship.”
“You ate that flower, didn’t you?”
“No! Just a piece of it.”
“Unbelievable,” he mutters, stepping forward “Tongue out.”
“What?”
“Tongue. Out.”
You blink at him.
He’s completely serious.
“…Always so kinky.”
He closes his eyes like he’s mentally ejecting himself from the conversation “Just do it.”
You stick out your tongue, smug “Ahhh~”
He leans in, inspecting “Slight discoloration… mild irritation… your body’s resisting the stimulant effects.”
You raise a brow “You’ve memorized what this flower does?”
“I know every entry in that ridiculous notebook you leave lying around. Including the one titled ‘Things I Definitely Shouldn’t Eat But Might Anyway’.”
Your stomach flips.
“Oh” you say, quieter.
He straightens, expression unreadable “You think I haven’t noticed? The stash in the med bay. The coded labels. You catalog poisons more lovingly than most people talk about their pets.”
You look away “It’s just… interesting. The line between medicine and poison. It’s so thin. One drop too much and—”
“You die.”
“Or you cure something incurable.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Law studies you, tone dropping low “Is that what you want? To be the one who finds what no one else has the guts to touch?”
You meet his gaze “Wouldn’t you?”
His jaw ticks.
“…You should be more careful.”
You grin “But then you’d have no one to lecture.”
Law huffs, walking past you “Bepo’s watching you tomorrow. Don’t test him.”
“Bepo lets me eat weird berries if I tell him they’re for science!”
“Exactly.”
Later that night, as the rest of the crew sleeps, Law leans over the log where you were sitting earlier.
He finds a scrap of petal.
Miracle’s Folly.
He twirls it between his fingers, thoughtful.
“You’re not letting me touch anything…” you whine.
“Correct” Law replies, not even sparing you a glance as he adjusts his gloves.
You’re trudging behind him, Bepo flanking your other side like a very fluffy prison guard. The island is buzzing with life but all you’ve gotten to do so far is stare longingly at roots and flowers like a kid with her nose pressed to a candy store window.
“I’m an herbalist,” you mutter “This is discrimination.”
“It’s self-preservation” Law deadpans.
Bepo pats your shoulder gently “You did try to lick a hallucinogenic frog yesterday.”
“It looked juicy.”
“You said you saw the celestial dragons dancing salsa.”
“…I mean, I did.”
Law shoots you a look over his shoulder.
You grin at him.
By midday, you’re sulking on a log while the others finish whatever they were doing.
You pull out your notebook and begin scribbling, sketches of the strange bulbous blue fruits you passed earlier, notes on the slightly vibrating moss near the creek, and, of course, the effects of Miracle’s Folly.
You don’t notice Law watching you.
He clears his throat “Give me your hand.”
You blink up “Why, so you can handcuff me to Bepo?”
“No,” he says, kneeling in front of you with a small vial “I want to run a test.”
You hesitate, then slowly offer your hand.
He drops a single, translucent drop of something onto your skin. It tingles.
“New tincture?” you ask, curiously sniffing it.
“Neutralized extract of Miracle’s Folly. I isolated it this morning.”
Your eyes light up “You tested it?”
He mutters “Voluntarily. With supervision.”
You snort “So boring.”
“But now I need to observe secondary exposure. You’re uniquely qualified.”
Your heart does a little somersault “You mean I’m special.”
He rolls his eyes “You’re reckless. And resilient.”
“And a little cute?”
“Don’t push it.”
You grin.
Minutes pass. He keeps his fingers on your wrist, counting your pulse with the pad of his thumb.
You try not to think about that.
“It’s steady” he murmurs.
“Disappointed?”
He ignores the question “You’re reacting differently than I expected.”
“How so?”
“Your nervous system is adapting.”
“Like immunity?”
“Like something else” he says, voice quieter now “You’ve been exposing yourself in microdoses, haven’t you?”
You pause.
“…maybe.”
He looks up at you, eyes unreadable “Why?”
You drop your gaze, suddenly unsure.
“It’s not just for fun.” you say “I mean, partly, yes. But it’s more than that. I want to understand them. The poisons. The lines. Everything people fear. I want to know it. Control it. Be stronger than it.”
He’s silent.
You add, softer, “I was sick once. Really sick. No one could help. All the doctors, all the books… nothing. But the old apothecary in my town? She mixed me something that should’ve killed me.”
You glance at him, eyes bright “But it didn’t. It saved me.”
Law doesn’t speak for a long time. When he does, his voice is gentler than before.
“You and I aren’t that different.”
You blink.
He rises to his feet, brushing off his coat “But if you ever eat another unknown fungus without telling me, I’m performing surgery with no anesthesia.”
You beam “That’s fair.”
That night, Law catches you adding a drop of something green and shimmering into your tea.
He stares.
You pause “It’s just moss extract.”
He raises a brow.
You sigh “…Okay, mildly hallucinogenic moss.”
He snatches the cup.
“Captain!”
“You can have it back after I test it.”
Your eyes widen.
“…Wait. Are you going to drink it?”
He gives you a rare smirk “For science.”
Your jaw drops. And suddenly, you think you might be falling a little bit in love.
Now you’re staring.
Not at the moss sample.
At him.
Trafalgar D. Water Law, Surgeon of Death, Warlord-turned-revolutionary, terrifyingly brilliant man of mystery… just drank the tea you spiked with a moss known to mildly bend reality.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand like it’s nothing.
You blink “That was an experimental dosage.”
“I adjusted for body weight.”
“Oh my god.”
Bepo’s ears twitch “Captain… are you sure that was smart?”
Law gives a slow blink “I’m fine.”
You and Bepo exchange a look.
Fifteen minutes later, he’s very much not fine.
“What… the hell is that?”
You follow Law’s dazed line of sight “That’s… the campfire, Captain.”
He squints.
“It’s breathing.”
You purse your lips “Okay, slightly more than mild hallucinations.”
“Why is it breathing, Y/N.”
“Symbolic warmth?”
He stares at you. His pupils are so dilated.
You pull out a notepad “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I see seven.”
“…I’m holding up two.”
He sways.
You sigh and grab his arm “Alright, that’s enough science for tonight.”
He lets you guide him with surprising ease, mumbling under his breath.
You make it back to the tent just as the hallucinations seem to peak.
“I need to sit” he mutters.
You lower him down gently, watching as he pinches the bridge of his nose “Throbbing temple. Flashing visuals. You’re not vomiting, though… interesting.”
He opens one eye “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little,” you admit, handing him water “You’re cute when your grip on reality is slipping.”
“Y/N.”
“Mm?”
“There are tiny doctors running in circles around me.”
You blink. Then look around the tent.
“…Well. You’re not wrong.”
You sit next to him. Close, but not touching. It’s oddly quiet for a jungle night.
“Headache?” you ask softly.
He nods once.
You reach up and, very carefully, press your fingers against his temples. Slow circles. He doesn’t flinch.
“Pressure can help the tension pass” you say.
He closes his eyes. Exhales.
You pause “Tell me what else you see.”
“…You.”
You snort “No kidding.”
“No, I mean…” he trails off, brows twitching “You look… soft.”
Your hands freeze “I—what?”
“You’re glowing.”
You’re absolutely not glowing, but...
“Oh” you whisper.
“You’re always buzzing,” he murmurs “Like something dangerous in a pretty bottle.”
You stop breathing for a second.
“Law…” you say, too quietly.
But he’s not done.
“I always thought I hated that. The unpredictability. But now it feels like… I don’t know.”
He leans his head forward, forehead bumping gently against yours.
“You scare the hell out of me,” he breathes “And I think I’m starting to even like it.”
You think your heart just stopped.
“Definitely a side effect…” you whisper, but your fingers are still on his skin, still gently pressing against his temples.
He exhales “I’ll regret saying all of that, won’t I.”
You smile, a little shaken “Only if you pretend it wasn’t true later.”
Silence. He doesn’t move.
Then he mutters “I’m keeping the tea recipe."
You laugh.
Outside the tent, Bepo lowers his paw from the tent flap and whispers to Shachi and Penguin “They’re in love. Told you it wasn’t poison.”
After that, Law pretends nothing happened.
You give him three days.
Three days of ignoring the fact he hallucinated tiny doctors and confessed to liking the chaos you bring to his life. Three days of sidelong glances, awkward silences, and you very purposefully reminding him of the tea incident every time he gets too comfortable.
“Captain,” you say sweetly as you walk by him, “you’re not seeing glowing versions of me today, are you?”
He glares “No.”
“Shame. I looked great in your hallucination.”
He drops his pen. Hard.
But he doesn’t say anything else.
Coward.
Later on - You don’t mean to get sick.
Not really.
It’s just that the vines didn’t look that threatening, and you were pretty sure it was just a paralytic contact toxin, and well… maybe you’d misjudged the concentration.
The world tilts sideways.
You feel your legs give out before your brain registers it.
And then darkness.
You wake to voices.
“…found her by the river. Unresponsive.”
“I told her to stop touching unknown plants. Why can’t she just—”
“She didn’t do it on purpose.”
A long silence.
Then Law’s voice again. Quiet. Cracked.
“She always makes it look like she’s in control. But she’s not.”
You open your eyes.
The ceiling of the Polar Tang greets you. So does a pounding ache in your chest. You shift and wince.
Law’s at your side in an instant.
“Stay down.” he says, low and sharp.
Your voice is hoarse “Didn’t think I’d go out like that. No drama. No romantic poisoning. Just a stupid plant.”
His eyes flicker “It was… dramatic. You stopped breathing.”
“Oh…” you say, blinking.
“I didn’t know what it was. For once, you knew more than me. And I couldn’t—” He swallows the words.
You offer a small smile “So… scared the hell out of you, huh?”
He doesn’t answer.
Just sits back down beside you. Shoulders tense. Jaw clenched.
You watch him, softly “Law.”
“Don’t say it.” he mutters.
“Say what?”
“That I was right. That you should’ve listened. That this was inevitable. That I knew you’d get hurt eventually.”
You tilt your head “Wasn’t gonna say any of that.”
He looks up, surprised.
“I was gonna say,” you murmur, “that I’m sorry I made you worry.”
You reach out weakly, stupidly, and your hand grazes his.
“I forget sometimes,” you whisper “That people care.”
Something breaks in his expression.
“Y/N,” he says tightly, “you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep flirting with death like it’s a hobby.”
“I wasn’t flirting with death.” you tease “That was basically a date. I only flirt with you, Captain.”
He glares.
You smile, and it fades slowly as your fingers curl around his.
“I didn’t want to die. Not really. Not before I figured out what this thing is.”
He blinks “What thing?”
“This,” you whisper “Whatever this is between us. The hallucinations. The confessions. The weird tension where you want to kill me and kiss me at the same time.”
“You’re wrong.” he says.
Your chest tightens “Oh.”
“I don’t want to kill you, you already do that to yourself alone.”
Pause.
“I just want to kiss you.”
You stop breathing.
He leans forward. Slow. Intentional. One hand brushing your jaw, tilting your face toward him like you’re something fragile and fleeting.
“Captain” you whisper.
“Y/N” he breathes.
And then he kisses you.
It’s gentle, for all of three seconds, then desperate, frustrated, furious about the fact that he was almost losing you.
When he pulls back, you’re both breathless.
“You’re the most dangerous thing I’ve ever studied” he mutters, forehead against yours.
You grin.
“And you’re my favorite side effect.”
The sun is brutal on the upper deck, but you don’t notice. You’re too busy holding a tiny, glittering vial up to the light with the reverence of someone holding an engagement ring or, in your case, an exciting new potential toxin.
It’s pink. Slightly viscous. Smells faintly like fermented fruit and regret.
Perfect.
“Please tell me you’re not going to drink that.” Marco says behind you, half-exasperated, half-terrified.
“I’m going to sip it,” you say, rolling your eyes “For science.”
“For science?” he repeats.
“For science,” you nod solemnly, uncorking the bottle “And also morbid curiosity.”
He groans “Y/N…”
Too late. You down it in one go.
There’s a moment of silence as you smack your lips thoughtfully.
“…Taste?”
“Like someone dissolved candy in cheap rum and lies.”
“Oh good,” Marco mutters “You’ve poisoned yourself again.”
You wave him off “If I die, I’ll write it down first.”
He opens his mouth to argue but a loud whistle cuts him off.
“Oi!” Ace calls, walking over shirtless, sun-drenched, grinning that smug grin that says I’ve definitely started three fires before breakfast “You experimenting again?”
You nod, blinking a bit “Just something I found in a locked crate under Izo’s bunk.”
Ace raises a brow “You… drank random liquid you found in Izo’s stash?”
“Yes,” you say matter-of-factly “And also, your laugh makes my spine feel weird.”
He stares.
You stare back.
Marco sucks in a sharp breath “Oh no.”
You tilt your head thoughtfully “And your shoulders are distracting. I’ve catalogued seventy-eight poisons but can’t remember what you said this morning because you yawned mid-sentence and I lost focus.”
“…You what?” Ace coughs.
You continue, voice perfectly even “Also, I sometimes fake headaches to watch you carry me to the infirmary. You’re very warm.”
You slam your hands on your mouth to stop it from saying more, while the crew begins to gather like sharks to blood.
Thatch appears holding popcorn. Someone is calling for Izo. There’s actual cheering.
“You’re glowing,” Marco says quietly, inspecting your skin “Shimmering. That’s one of Izo’s truth serums. A prototype he was working on some time ago.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Ace echoes weakly.
You turn to him “Also, I ranked your freckles once. The ones on your jaw are my favorite.”
Ace turns so red you think he might combust without using his powers.
“You… I… how long is this stuff supposed to last?!” he splutters.
You shrug “Few hours, probably. Don’t worry. I’ll be asleep before I get to the part about your hands.”
“What about my hands?!”
“Nothing!” you say, far too quickly “They’re just… statistically… dangerous looking.”
He’s speechless. Marco is already reaching for his notebook.
You’ve become the Moby Dick’s favorite form of entertainment.
You’re still sitting cross-legged on the deck, glittering faintly in the sun like a cursed disco ball, while the Whitebeard Pirates form a loose circle around you.
“Truth serum,” Thatch hums, rubbing his hands together “This is the best day I’ve had in weeks.”
“It’s unethical...” Marco mutters beside him.
“It’s hilarious,” Izo corrects, snapping open a fan and leaning in “Y/N, darling, be honest... who took the last chocolate muffin last week? It was you, am I wrong?”
You open your mouth immediately “Not me. It was Ace.”
“Traitor!” Ace sputters from somewhere behind you.
You shrug “You left crumbs in the storage room. Also, your heartbeat spiked when someone mentioned it at breakfast.”
Everyone turns to Ace. He throws his hands up “It was one time!”
“You licked the wrapper, too.” you add calmly “Twice.”
Someone howls.
“Alright, my turn!” Thatch grins “Y/N, have you ever sabotaged anyone’s food?”
You nod serenely “I put mild laxatives in Namur’s tea once because he wouldn’t stop stealing my ginger cookies.”
Namur gasps “You monster!”
“You deserved it,” you reply without a trace of guilt “You called my medicinal brownies ‘dirt bars.’”
“Next question,” Izo purrs, leaning forward “Have you ever kissed someone on this ship?”
The crew leans in.
You blink “No.”
“Have you thought about it?” Marco asks, suddenly very interested.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Ace.”
The sound Ace makes is somewhere between a squeak and a small, internal detonation.
The crew loses it.
“YES!”
“I KNEW IT!”
“PAY UP, IZO!”
“I had money on Marco, damn it!”
You sigh as if this is all deeply inconvenient, like the truth is just leaking out of you against your will, which, of course, it is.
You say casually “He smells good. Like firewood and something sweet. Maybe toasted sugar. I haven’t narrowed it down yet.”
Ace is covering his face with his hands now, bright red from the neck up.
“Can I go lie down?” you mumble “Or roll into the sea?”
Marco snorts “Not until the glitter wears off.”
Thatch throws an arm around your shoulder “C’mon, Y/N, one more... if you had to kiss anyone else on this ship—”
“I’d rather drink from the mildew jar in my lab.”
“…Fair.”
You blink slowly, tone still deadly calm “Thatch, you once tried to trim your chest hair with surgical scissors. Drunk.”
Thatch chokes “That was off the record!”
“No such thing,” Marco laughs “She’s the serum’s hostage now.”
“I regret nothing,” you reply “Except licking the blue mushroom last month. That hallucination lasted eight hours. I tried to dissect the air.”
Ace groans “Can someone drag her below deck before she tells everyone what I look like shirtless in creepy detail?”
You look straight at him “You’re built like a statue someone made while going through something personal.”
He explodes.
The next morning you’re back to your usual self.
The strange, glittering effects of the truth serum have worn off, leaving you feeling… normal again. You’re busy carefully grinding some herbs into powder, a mixture for your next experiment, when a familiar voice rings out behind you.
“Morning, poison queen.”
You freeze.
“Don’t call me that” you mutter without turning around, but there’s an unmistakable edge of dread in your tone.
Ace slides onto the bench next to you, uninvited, a grin spreading across his face as he leans toward you, looking like he’s about to launch into a full assault.
“Oh, I think I will...” he says, practically purring “You’re the one who told the entire crew how much you love my shoulders, remember?”
You tense “I did not—”
“And those freckles?” Ace raises an eyebrow, already loving the flush spreading across your face “Did you know that Marco bet I’d get at least five different comments on my jawline today? Maybe next time you should be more specific.”
Your eyes snap to his, and you open your mouth to argue but then he continues.
“You really should have warned me before you started cataloging all my features. Or how about when you admitted you fake headaches just so you can get me to carry you to the infirmary?”
The teasing tone in his voice is getting under your skin, and you try to focus on grinding your herbs, but his words are still ringing in your ears.
“You do know that it’s not even the ‘headaches’ you fake that’s the problem, right? It’s that you actually like it when I carry you. Which I can totally tell from the way you always sigh in my arms.”
You bite your lip, cheeks burning, desperate to look anywhere but at him.
“Or how about when you—” Ace’s voice drops low, “—admitted that I smell good? Like firewood and… What was that you said? Oh, right! Toasted sugar!”
You inhale sharply “I never said that.”
“Oh, yes you did, and you know.” he says, leaning in closer, the amusement in his eyes dangerously obvious “And you also said I’m built like a statue. Do you really think I wouldn’t remember that?”
“Shut up.” You finally look up, but your voice is strained as you meet his teasing gaze.
“I mean, I’m just curious,” Ace continues, a little too happily, “how much more stuff you’ve been hiding from me. How long have you been analyzing my muscles, exactly? Do you think they’re… aesthetically pleasing?” He pauses to let the words sink in “Hmm, maybe I should flex for you to get a clearer answer.”
The crew, who had been quietly watching from a distance (but clearly listening), suddenly bursts into laughter, but you just want to curl into a ball and disappear.
“Oh, this is good,” Thatch says, clearly enjoying the show “I never thought Ace would get revenge like this, but here we are.”
“You should see her when she’s trying to make that poison tea thing,” Marco says, shaking his head “She’s way too serious about it, but now we know she’s been obsessed with Ace’s shoulders the whole time.”
“You guys are awful.” you mutter, sinking into your chair, arms crossed tightly across your chest in an attempt to hold yourself together.
Ace, however, is not letting up. He knows the soft spots, and he’s making sure to press every single one of them.
“So, how’s it feel?” Ace grins, tapping your shoulder playfully “Being soooo open about how much you like me? You definitely don’t look uncomfortable at all.”
You shoot him a glare, but it’s hard to stay mad when he’s looking so damn smug about it.
“I don’t know, Ace. It must be so hard for you to carry the weight of being so perfect that I couldn’t stop talking about how handsome you are, huh?” you bite back.
Ace stares at you for a moment, clearly thrown off by your unexpected response. Then he laughs “Oh, that’s rich. You think you can out-tease me?”
“You’re the one who’s been doing it all day.” you shoot back, finally turning to face him fully “Seems like you loved me pointing out all the things I like about you.”
The crew laughs even harder, and Ace’s grin only grows.
“I won.” he says, smug as ever “It’s not my fault you’re so obsessed with me. Honestly, I’m kinda flattered.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are.” You roll your eyes, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.
But Ace doesn’t relent “Admit it, Y/N. You’re in love with me.”
You pause.
“And if I am?” you ask coolly, holding his gaze.
The teasing gleam in his eyes flickers, then vanishes. Ace looks just a little taken aback by the way you’re holding your ground.
“Well…” He scratches the back of his head, clearly flustered now “You’ve already said it once. So I’m just making sure you’re still on the same page.”
And just like that, it’s his turn to feel the heat in his cheeks.
“Well, maybe you should stop teasing me, then.” you say with a sly smile.
Ace grins, shaking his head “Nah, this is fun. You’ll get used to it.”
Now it’s your turn to mess with Ace.
After days of relentless teasing, you’ve decided that it’s time to use his own game against him. He’s made it clear that he loves to toy with you and now, it’s time for him to spill the truth, whether he wants to or not.
The deck is quiet, the crew all doing their own thing, but you know Ace will find you soon. He always does. And, sure enough, as you’re mixing something into a flask in the corner of the kitchen, his voice floats over the rim of the doorway.
“Hey, poison queen,” he says with a grin, clearly thinking of another thing to tease you about “Are you planning to poison the whole crew with whatever concoction you’re making today? Or is it just my poor, unsuspecting self?”
You don’t answer right away, focusing on your work. You’re careful with every motion. Just one drop of this ingredient, and you’ll have him talking like a parrot for hours.
“Alright, alright, what’s in the flask today?” he presses, inching closer “Am I going to shit myself?”
You glance over your shoulder, smiling sweetly “Oh, nothing dangerous, I promise.”
“Then why do you look so… suspicious?” Ace narrows his eyes playfully, still not suspecting a thing.
You flash him a mischievous smile, taking the flask with one hand and adding a few drops of your carefully prepared herbal mix into his mug “Just a little something to make sure your day is… interesting.”
Ace raises an eyebrow, but at this point, he’s practically inviting the teasing. He’s completely unaware of the slight adjustment you made. After all, you’ve poisoned your own drinks with far worse. The concoction in his mug isn’t lethal, but it’ll get the job done.
You hand it over with a flourish “Here you go, fire boy. Drink up.”
Ace takes the mug, his smirk growing wider. He’s used to your antics, but he doesn’t know you’ve just pulled the wool over his eyes. He takes a swig, and just as the liquid slides down his throat, you watch him carefully.
But then, a few seconds later, Ace’s expression shifts, his eyes flickering with confusion as he sets the mug down.
“You okay?” you ask casually, keeping your voice neutral.
Ace blinks, a frown tugging at his features “Yeah, just… feel a little weird. Like, light-headed… You didn’t actually put something in here, did you?”
“Oh, it’s just a little herbal remedy,” you say with a shrug, your grin widening “You know, to make you feel better.”
“Well, I do feel better, but I also feel...” he admits with a nervous laugh “Weird.”
That’s your cue. You pull out a chair and sit down, raising an eyebrow “I think we can have some fun with that.”
His eyes flick to yours, unsure “What do you mean?”
“You see, I didn't drink all that bottle the other day. And, well… the thing is,” you continue, now holding his gaze, “you’ve been teasing me for days, Ace. And I’m really curious about how much of what you said was… well, the truth.”
Ace stares at you, confusion melting into realization as the drug starts to kick in, the subtle influence of your concoction making him more vulnerable to his own thoughts.
“Wait, what…?” He shakes his head, trying to focus “This is… a trick, right? Did you really—”
“So, Ace...” you say in a soothing tone, leaning in slightly “Admit it, you like me.”
Ace laughs awkwardly, his eyes unfocused as his lips move to speak without hesitation “Well, uh, yeah. I’ve liked you for a while now… I just thought it’d be funny to make you squirm about it.”
You narrow your eyes, pretending to act surprised “You like me? You’ve been teasing me because you like me?”
He stumbles over his words, but it’s too late to stop himself “Yeah, you’re like… fun. I don’t know how to act around you, okay? Every time I try to be normal, you just—ugh, you get under my skin. And I can’t stop teasing you.”
You smile wickedly, feeling the rush of victory surge in your veins.
“Is that so?” you ask sweetly, letting his confession sink in “And here I thought you were just being a brat.”
"That's just my love language ok? I don't know how to act normal around someone I like, so I just tease and tease and tease."
"Love language?" you ask actually a bit shocked "So you really do like me?? Couldn't you just confess back when I got exposed with that truth telling thing?"
"It's too complicated. I just... didn't know now." he says trying to avoind your eyes.
"You just did it."
"Well, not in a fair way, though."
"I've put nothing in that drink, you idiot..."
Ace freezes “Wait a sec… Are you messing with me right now?” he asks, his voice suddenly more wary “This isn’t real?”
“Oh, it’s very real,” you reply, letting a mischievous grin slip into your expression “The truth serum is working, wihtout even the need to actually use it. You’re just… a little more vulnerable than you think.”
His eyes widen “Wait… wait, what did you do to me?”
You chuckle, leaning back in your chair “Just a little something to get you to spill your guts. But what’s even better is that you’re admitting things you didn’t even realize you were feeling.”
Ace’s face twists as the realization hits him “I—I thought I was poisoned? You… you tricked me into confessing everything?!”
The crew, who has been silently observing the entire exchange, erupts into laughter from all corners of the room. Marco, Izo, and Thatch are barely holding it together, while the rest of the crew seems equally entertained by the spectacle.
“That’s right, fire boy,” you say, leaning closer “You weren’t poisoned at all. You were just brainwashed into thinking you were.”
Ace stares at you, his face redder than ever, looking like he’s ready to combust.
“Yeah, well, now I’m gonna make you regret it” he mutters, his earlier smugness replaced by genuine frustration and something else you can’t quite place.
But for now, you’ve won. And you’ll savor this small victory for as long as you can.
The crew is still chuckling from the aftermath of your little “truth serum” game. You can practically feel the heat radiating from Ace’s flushed face, the sheer embarrassment of his earlier confessions hanging in the air like a cloud.
“Well, Ace,” you say, leaning back in your chair with a smug grin, “I gotta say, you made it pretty easy for me to get all your secrets out.”
Ace grumbles, clearly trying to salvage what’s left of his dignity “I can’t believe I fell for that.” He crosses his arms, glaring at you but clearly not all that mad, more like… flustered.
You lean in a little closer, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips “You did admit a lot, though. Like how much you actually like me.”
That catches him off guard. He stumbles for a moment, as if he wants to deny it, but there’s no escaping the truth now “Well, what can I say, you did say a lot of embarrassing things, too, when you drank that ‘serum’.”
You raise an eyebrow, the teasing still simmering beneath your words “Like what, exactly?”
“Oh, you know, I still think about you counting my freckles…” He flashes you a grin, almost too proud of himself for turning the tables.
You smirk, taking a deep breath “Well, now that I know you like me back…” You pause for effect, leaning even closer, “I can finally say it all again without the need for any truth drink.”
The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Ace’s eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, he’s speechless “Wait, what?”
You grin, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort “Yep. So now, I’m free to repeat everything. Your teasing? It’s actually kind of cute. And maybe I even find you hot… especially with that devil fruit power of yours.” You’re clearly enjoying this far too much “Might even be into that.”
Ace is completely flustered now, cheeks burning red, and he stammers, “You… you really are messing with me, huh?”
Before you can answer, he suddenly leans forward, a spark of determination lighting up his eyes “Alright, then, I’ll just prove to you how much I like you.”
You blink, confused “What are you talking about?”
He leans in, his usual cocky grin back on his face “You wanna tell me what you like about me? Then I’ll tell you what I like about you... Like a competition since you like it.”
You tilt your head, intrigued “A competition, huh? Alright. But what’s the catch?”
Ace leans in even closer, voice dropping to a low, teasing tone “No backing out. You have to admit everything you like about me, truthfully, no holds barred.”
Your eyes glint with mischief “Alright, fine. But be warned. You might not like what you hear.”
Ace’s grin only grows wider “I’m all ears, Y/N. Let’s hear it.”
“First off,” you begin, your tone as playful as ever, “I might like how your hair looks like you just rolled out of bed. It’s… charming in a ‘I just woke up and I’m not trying’ kind of way.”
Ace scoffs, looking both proud and a little defensive “Well, you know, some people can’t pull it off, but I do.”
You roll your eyes “And I might find it kind of adorable that you get so riled up when I call you out. Your pride’s kind of cute… in a completely frustrating way.”
Ace stares at you for a second, then grins, almost cocky “I’ll take that as a compliment… for now.”
But before you can continue, someone shouts from the back of the room.
“Get a room, you two!”
The words echo across the deck, and everyone bursts into laughter. Ace’s face turns redder than ever, and for a moment, it looks like he’s about to explode.
“Shut up!” he snaps, but the crew’s laughter is uncontrollable.
But the comment gives Ace an idea. He stands up suddenly, grabbing your wrist and tugging you toward the stairs leading below deck.
“Alright, fine. We’ll take it to my room,” he says, his voice a little breathless but determined “Let’s see how much you really like me.”
You blink, surprised at his boldness, but you can’t hide the grin forming on your face “Ace… you think you can just drag me to your room and get away with it?”
“Maybe,” he says with a sly wink “But you’ll never know unless you come with me.”
You chuckle, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline you get when Ace is being this unpredictable “Alright then, hothead. Lead the way.”
The crew, of course, continues to shout playful remarks as you both head toward his room. Marco just shakes his head with a knowing smile.
Ace’s room door slams shut behind you both, and whatever happens next is anyone’s guess. But one thing is certain, this game of teasing is far from over. And in the end, neither of you is going to back down from it anytime soon.
Law's fivehead makes a debut
What do you think of this flashy phone charm?
I now recall why my behind should stay off of Etsy. So many fun and flashy Buggy items, but insufficient money! 😅 Some items couldn't be resisted, so necessary purchases were made. 😉
The enamel pin was an accidental Etsy find and a preorder as a matter of fact. I have a second one coming, a "B Grade." This way it can be utilized with an ita bag. Oh, the talented artist is CartistDesign btw!
Next is this amazing sticker by GrackleGoblin. Seems that their shop is current on a break, though...
This wasn't an Etsy find, but a purchase made off of eBay. It was a must have for the extensive collection, especially with that certification number!
Jiraiya has been overjoyed with the recent boxes and the abundant amount of packaging they contain. It doesn't take much to make his paws happy. 😸
This...
This is the reason I watch SVU
.
.
That and Mariska Hargitay
Y’all I’m watching Law & Order SVU, and I’m on this episode about homophobes who think they can cure the gay, which resulted in one of my favorite exchanges between Ice T and Munch
Munch: if an overbearing mother and a distant father cause homosexuality, why is it that I’m not gay?
Fin: maybe you’re in denial.
Munch: that would explain a lot…
yeahhhh USNAVIII WOOOOOOO ilove himmmmmmm
im so bad at making backgrounds lol
ookaaaaaynow i gotta work on the 21cs fanart :3
In a perfect world, Sora and her children would be having lovely sitcom moments like…
Reiju accidentally has 2 dates to the prom (she takes them both at the same time because she’s so cool)
Sanji broke a window with a baseball and is ashamed.
Yonji has a date but he doesn’t know what to do so Sanji, Ichiji, and Yonji crash his date and give him very bad advice.
Ichiji goes off to college
Niji drives the family car into the kitchen and runs away
Sanji gets addicted to caffeine pills and breaks down while singing the Pointer Sister's "I'm So Excited" in front of a crowd of ladies
Tashigi thinks Reiju has a shark fetish because Reiju was watching lesbian porn but quickly switched it to a shark documentary when she saw Tashigi walking in the room and now Tashigi keeps trying to seduce her with sharks.
Ichiji starts up a manhunt through the back alleys of Philadelphia while Niji and Yonji acquire a taste for human flesh.
The family does a claymation Christmas special.
fem zosan based on that one game and the fact that Sanji is one of those who makes haircuts for strawhats
Sanji and Zoro are both men. They can't have a damn baby.
And Sanji doesn't even like men. He states this in canon several times.
I’m so sorry I can’t hear you over the sound of Zoro and Sanji kissing and being in love THEY’RE JUST SO LOUD *ANGRY FRENCH KISSING NOISES*
(No but seriously, feel free to block me, because I’m gonna keep making this content, you’re absolutely in control of what you interact with online, use that power and let everyone enjoy their fandom experience)
Opposite vinsmokes again
It's been a while
Previous posts can be found [here]
God told me to draw this