Hi! Can You Please Do A Reader That Has A Beauty At The Same Level As Hancock, And Like Some Big Names

Omg I absolutely love your posts. You're super good. Here, have my heart ❤

waahh! thank uu so muchh~ 💝(˶˃⤙˂˶)

it made me happy!

Doctor Trafalgar, Love Expert?

Law gives terrible love advice to Penguin while clearly ignoring his own painfully obvious crush on you.

Law X gn! reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, friends-to-lovers typeshi(?) law being timid a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

If there was one thing Trafalgar Law wasn’t qualified to do, it was give romantic advice.

Sure, he was a brilliant surgeon, a pirate captain, and had a smirk that could make a nun sin, but when it came to feelings—specifically his own—he was a flaming shipwreck in a storm of emotional denial.

And yet, here he was, arms crossed, giving unsolicited love advice to Penguin like he was the therapist from a soap opera.

“Just tell her she’s inefficient,” Law said with a straight face. “It’s a compliment.”

Bepo blinked up at him. “...Captain, I don’t think calling Penguin’s crush inefficient is going to help his chances.”

“You asked for honesty,” Law muttered, flipping through his medical journal like it was more interesting than this disaster in progress. “Efficiency is attractive.”

“To you, maybe!”

You, meanwhile, were watching this entire trainwreck from the galley door with a cup of tea and the kind of secondhand embarrassment that deserved its own trauma counseling.

“Law,” you called. “Did you just say ‘inefficient’ as a flirting tactic?”

He didn’t even look up. “It’s a practical compliment.”

You snorted. “What’s next? ‘Your presence improves my survival odds by 6.4%’?”

“…Depending on the environment, that’s a generous estimate.”

You and Bepo shared a look. A look that screamed, Why is this our captain?

The whole thing had started that morning when Penguin had walked into the common area in a flurry of nerves and confessed, “I think I like someone.”

Law, who’d been reading while pretending not to be listening to music in one earbud (yes, he still used wired ones, don’t ask), barely lifted his gaze. “Then tell them.”

Penguin shuffled. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s the truth.”

“And what if they don’t like me back?”

Law gave the emotional equivalent of a shrug. “Then adapt. Rejection is survivable.”

Penguin groaned from the couch. “Cap, you can’t treat love like it’s battle tactics.”

“It’s a high-risk operation involving fragile variables and potential bloodshed. Sounds pretty accurate.”

Shachi nodded. “Okay, that’s fair, but also incredibly bleak.”

And that’s when Law was voluntold by everyone that if he was going to act like he knew how love worked, he had to give actual advice.

Hence: Doctor Trafalgar, Love Expert?

“Okay,” you said, taking the empty seat beside him and plucking the journal from his hands. “If you’re so good at giving advice, help me out.”

Law narrowed his eyes. “With what?”

“I think someone likes me,” you said casually, leaning back like you weren’t about to stir up the most delicious chaos. “But I can’t tell if they’re just awkward or trying to be subtle.”

His jaw tightened. “Who is it?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s why I need your expert opinion.”

Law closed the journal and set it down very deliberately.

Everyone in the room went very still. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi exchanged silent screams with their eyebrows.

“Well,” Law said coolly. “What are the signs?”

“Hmm,” you hummed. “They hover a lot. Make excuses to talk to me. Kind of avoid eye contact but also stare when they think I’m not looking.”

His eye twitched. “Stare?”

“Yeah. And once, they brought me extra rice even though I didn’t ask.”

Silence.

Law stood up. “That’s suspicious.”

“Oh?”

“Sounds like they’re trying too hard.”

“Ohhh?” you said, biting back a smile.

“They’re probably nervous. Emotionally constipated. Bad at expressing feelings.” He said all this like he wasn’t describing himself to an absurdly accurate degree. “Possibly repressed.”

“Should I confront them?”

“No,” he said quickly, a little too quickly. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“It might scare them away.”

“But if they like me…”

“Then wait for them to say something first.”

Bepo coughed. “So… basically just let them suffer in silence?”

“It builds character,” Law said.

You covered your mouth to hide your grin. “You’re such a romantic.”

Law’s ears turned pink. “Shut up.”

Later that day, Shachi cornered you near the engine room with a look of deep judgment.

“You’re torturing him.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

He pointed a wrench at you. “You know he likes you.”

“Do I?”

“You’ve been fake-flirting with a ghost for the last week just to get him to react!”

You smirked. “It’s good cardio.”

Shachi groaned. “He’s gonna combust. I saw him look up love confession rituals on his snail phone last night.”

Your eyes widened. “No.”

“Yes! And he accidentally joined a forum for single dads in North Blue.”

You wheezed. “He’s going through it.”

“So help him out!”

“…Fine.”

The opportunity came the next morning when you walked into the kitchen and found Law staring at a mug of coffee like it had personally betrayed him.

He didn’t look up when you entered, just mumbled, “Morning.”

“Morning,” you said, walking over. “Sleep okay?”

He made a grunt of vague disapproval.

You sat beside him. “Thinking about your crush?”

He choked on his coffee.

“I mean,” you said, oh-so-innocently. “That mystery person you gave advice about.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re very nosy.”

“You’re very obvious.”

He gave you a look. “I don’t have a crush.”

You tilted your head. “Are you sure? Because everyone on this ship seems to think you do.”

“Everyone on this ship is bored.”

“Bored enough to notice how you go quiet when I talk, how you walk into rooms I’m in and pretend it’s for unrelated reasons, or how you stare at my lips when I eat dessert?”

He went dead silent.

You leaned closer. “So. Doctor Trafalgar. Any prescriptions for yourself?”

“…Shut up,” he muttered, face flushed.

You blinked. “Wait. That was a confession.”

He got up.

You grabbed his wrist.

He froze.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly softer. “I like you too, dumbass.”

He blinked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a little red candy. “I was going to make you say it first, but you looked like you were about to diagnose yourself with heartbreak.”

He blinked again.

“…You like me?”

“God, yes. Even when you’re being a brick wall with nice tattoos.”

“…I have more than just tattoos,” he muttered.

You grinned. “Yeah, you’ve also got a charming inability to express affection. It’s cute.”

He shook his head. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re still holding my hand.”

Pause.

He looked down.

He was.

“…Tch.”

You laughed and tugged him back down. “Stay.”

“…Fine.”

Later, Penguin came in to find the two of you sitting shoulder to shoulder, quietly sharing a plate of snacks.

“Captain?” Penguin said, tilting his head. “Did you take your own advice?”

Law didn’t look up. “No.”

You grinned. “He took mine.”

The Lost Reader

A mysterious reader of Poneglyphs finds a new home among the Straw Hat Pirates, slowly becoming an irreplaceable part of their crew as their love for them grows.

READER WHO CAN READ AND SPEAK PONEGLYPH

Strawhats x Poneglyph gn!reader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

main characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, robin

tags: fluff, sfw, harem(?), soft

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs cringe and oc

words count: 1.9k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It started with silence.

Not the heavy kind that suffocates—but the quiet peace of wind brushing through trees, waves lapping against the sand, and birds singing above crumbled ruins. Your only companions were time-worn Poneglyphs, mossy stone relics, and the hollow ache of knowing you shouldn’t exist.

You didn’t know what you were—only that you could read them. The Poneglyphs. Their words came to you like breath, like blood. It wasn’t learned. It just… was.

And then one day, the silence broke.

“WOOOOAAAHH! What a weird island!!”

You looked up from a worn page, blinking at the explosion of sound.

A rubber man had landed face-first in your tomato garden.

You blinked again, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t imagining the scene before you. The man—his limbs were stretched at impossible angles, and his face was, well… currently smushed into the dirt of your carefully cultivated tomato patch.

“Luffy!” a woman’s voice shouted from the shore. “Stop crashing into things!”

You stared in disbelief, watching as a circus of chaos disembarked from a sunny, lion-faced ship. At least, that’s what it looked like to you.

“Wha—?” You stumbled back, half-wondering if you’d stepped into some sort of dream. But no, the crew’s laughter was real. Loud, boisterous, utterly chaotic, and very much present.

Before you could comprehend the whirlwind that had just descended upon your quiet life, a figure bounded toward you. The rubber man—Luffy—was grinning at you like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen all day. And, for all you knew, you were.

“Hey! Who're you? you live here? cool! SHISHISHI” Luffy asked, already sitting cross-legged on the ground as if he hadn’t just completely flattened your garden. “Wanna eat with us?”

You blinked, still too stunned to form a coherent sentence. “I… guess?...Im Y/N”

And so began your first real encounter with the Straw Hat Pirates.

Nami, with her keen eyes and sharp questions, immediately assessed the situation, interrogating you about your maps and supplies like she was about to audit your entire existence. Sanji, the ever-romantic chef, started cooking a feast so lavish that you were half-tempted to check if the food had its own backstory. The man even had heart-shaped eyes every time you praised his cooking.

Usopp, ever the over-the-top self-proclaimed hero, proudly handed you a coconut with a grin that could only be described as a “friendship orb.” “From me to you,” he declared, as if he had just made the world’s most profound offering.

And then there was Chopper, who took your pulse the second he saw you, declaring that you had “island person syndrome” and needed immediate attention.

Robin, however, watched you closely. Her gaze sharp but gentle, as if trying to figure out a puzzle no one else could see.

“You can read those stones, can’t you?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You stiffened. The question sent a shiver through your spine, a fleeting reminder of the secret you kept buried deep within. You didn’t answer. Not immediately.

She smiled, soft and knowing, her eyes never leaving yours. “We’ll talk later.”

Zoro, ever the brooding figure, glanced at you and muttered under his breath, “You don’t look dangerous.” It seemed like a funny thing to say, considering he had just been trying to slice a boulder in half mere moments earlier.

It didn’t take long for you to realize what was happening: You were trapped in their orbit. In their madness. In their chaos.

And you couldn’t have been more content.

The Thousand Sunny became your new home—bright, loud, and utterly unpredictable.

Sanji insisted on cooking you all your meals. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—each time, his cooking came with a full-on serenade, and if you didn’t finish your plate, he might just shed a tear. “It’s not just food,” he’d say. “It’s love. It’s my soul in a dish!”

Nami dragged you into shopping sprees with no regard for your dwindling supplies or your protestations. “You need to look fabulous, Y/N. Don’t you want to blend in with the rest of us?” she’d tease, while tossing a dozen new outfits into your arms. You always ended up spending more than you intended, but there was something so infectious about her enthusiasm that you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Robin was the one who quietly fascinated you. You’d find her at all hours of the day, absorbed in reading a book or studying the surroundings with quiet intensity. There was something about the way she looked at you, like she already knew your secrets but would never pry.

And then there was Luffy. Always smiling. Always laughing. He treated you as though you were already part of the crew. No pretense, no hesitation. You didn’t even need to be invited. You were just… in.

“Wanna ride on top of the mast?” Luffy asked one morning, as casually as if he were asking if you wanted a snack.

You stared up at the towering mast, then back at him. “Is that… safe?”

“Nope! shishishi” he beamed, looking excited about the prospect.

Somehow, that made it make sense to climb up there with him. He helped you up like it was nothing, laughing all the while. The wind whipped through your hair, and for the first time in a long while, you felt alive. You weren’t just existing anymore.

Zoro, ever the silent guardian, began training near you. You noticed him constantly observing your movements, his gaze intense but not unwelcome. One day, you lost your footing on deck, but before you could even react, his hand shot out and steadied you.

He didn’t say much, just stared at you for a moment, before clearing his throat and muttering, “Watch your step, dumbass.”

Romance, clearly.

It crept in slowly. Unnoticed, at first.

Sanji’s compliments, light-hearted at first, began to hold a different weight. “You look beautiful today, Y/N~chwann” he’d say with a soft smile, not just as a joke, but as something that meant more.

Nami’s teasing turned into lingering glances, moments where her eyes softened when she thought no one was looking.

Robin’s hand on yours during those quiet late-night reading sessions made your heart skip a beat, like it was a shared secret, a connection you didn’t have the words to describe.

Zoro’s silence, once intimidating, became your comfort. When he was near, you didn’t need to talk. You didn’t need to explain yourself. He was just there, a steady presence.

And Luffy’s laughter—oh, Luffy’s laughter. It started to feel like home, like the sound of safety, of warmth. A constant reminder that with him around, there was nothing to fear.

But you kept your secret.

That was until one night, when you and Robin stood over a relic you had no business being near. It was buried deep beneath the cursed island’s soil, half-buried like a forgotten truth. Robin stood behind you, arms crossed, waiting for you to decipher it. You already knew what it would say, but that didn’t stop the rush of dread that surged within you as your fingers traced the ancient glyphs.

“You know what it says, don’t you?” Robin’s voice was barely a whisper. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

You stiffened.

“It’s just a story,” you muttered, voice low.

Robin smiled, a soft and knowing smile, one that suggested she understood far more than she let on. “Then you should know—they’d kill you for it.”

You didn’t answer, didn’t have the words. You just continued to trace the lines, the ancient language flowing effortlessly from your mind, sinking into the earth beneath your fingertips.

Everything changed when you found the half-buried Poneglyph on a cursed island.

It was a trap. Not for Luffy. Not for the Pirate King in the making.

For you.

You read the stone aloud, your voice quiet, shaking slightly. And for the first time in your life, the stone responded.

The words were not just etched into stone, not just an inscription—it was a message. A message that burned through the world like a beacon.

“The last of the Whisperers,” it said. “Hunted. Hidden. Forbidden.”

The ground shook. The air turned electric. The Poneglyphs around you shimmered, the glyphs becoming light, illuminating the island with a soft, ethereal glow.

The Straw Hats arrived just as you stumbled backward, your eyes wide, heart pounding, the power coursing through you like an uncontrollable force. The glyphs pulsed, and the power in your veins burned bright.

“What’s happening?!” Usopp screamed, looking ready to fight a ghost.

You looked at them—at your crew—and whispered, “They were hunting us. People who could read these stones. I shouldn’t exist.”

There was silence.

Then Luffy stepped forward, his voice unwavering, “You’re not alone.”

The Marines came shortly after.

You fought, of course you did.

For the first time in your life, you let the power in your blood surge freely. The words of the stone became light, flames of energy erupting from the ground as you slashed through the battlefield, carving the very earth with your newfound strength. You cracked the island’s crust. You didn’t even know you could do that.

Sanji’s hand grabbed yours as the ground beneath you cracked, pulling you from the collapsing cliff. Zoro fought beside you, silent and determined. Robin’s steady hand on yours kept you grounded in the chaos.

When the battle was over, and the last Marine had been driven back, you passed out.

You woke in the infirmary, Chopper hovering over you, his worried eyes darting around like he was waiting for you to disappear again. Franky was sitting beside you, sobbing into a bowl of soup.

“You scared us, you moron,” Nami whispered, brushing your hair back from your face. Her voice was soft, a rare tenderness that made your heart ache.

Robin kissed your temple as she hovered over you, whispering, “You’re more than your gift.”

Sanji didn’t say anything, but his presence was unmistakable. He curled up beside you, pressing his forehead to your shoulder, a silent vow of protection.

Zoro sat across from you, cleaning his swords. “Don’t ever do that alone again.”

And Luffy… Luffy beamed at you, that infectious smile lighting up his face as he exclaimed, “You’re stuck with us forever now!”

The tension unraveled like fraying rope.

Nami kissed you when you least expected it, quick and teasing, a spark of affection.

Robin kissed you in the library, with parchment between your hands, and the world felt like it stopped turning for a moment.

Sanji kissed you with all the intensity of someone who had been waiting for years, every touch filled with longing.

Zoro kissed you like it was the only thing that made sense, his hands warm and steady.

And Luffy—Luffy’s kiss was upside down, playful, and completely unexpected, but perfect in the way only Luffy could be.

Usopp ran away screaming, “AAAH! ROMANCE ATTACK!”

Chopper fainted. Twice.

Brook played a love song with three verses about your “sultry stare” that made everyone uncomfortable except Sanji, who wept.

Franky asked if you wanted to build a heart-shaped cannon to “blast your feelings at the world.” You said yes. It now sits in the garden.

Jinbei just gave you a nod and said, “It’s about time.”

You weren’t a secret anymore.

You were theirs.

Not claimed, not owned—but cherished. Loved, wholly and fiercely.

And though the world may hunt you, you had a crew that would burn it down before they let anyone take you.

Hello, good morning, I hope I'm not bothering you. But I can make a request for Whitebeard and Fem Reader, which is a story of forbidden love where he is a pirate we know and she is an admiral. Respected that they nicknamed her mother to those who go with them, they had a secret relationship a few years ago before Roger's death that he also knew but unfortunately A reader like her had a devil fruit that was mysterious and valuable that deals with control From the dreams, some powers similar to those of MLP's Moon or Maleficent. But she had to sacrifice herself to save her men whom she considers sons. Against a pirate who was a Yonko who was protected by the navy And that devastated Whitebeard and those who knew her, but after a few years Whitebeard met a boy who was his son and reader Only he was raised with Garp who is practically the adopted brother of Ace Luffy and Sabo

Oh, I dreamed it and I swear I woke up crying. But I said it would be interesting to read. Take your time thank you ❤️

sounds cool anw tried my best>< tis not much but, hope u like it!

When the Sea Dreams of You

A powerful admiral, once known as "Mother" to her men, sacrifices herself to save them—leaving behind a secret love and child with Whitebeard. Years later, fate delivers the boy back into his father's world.

whitebeard x fem! reader | ONE SHOT

tags: slight angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, grief, oc

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe and akward

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sea remembered her name even if the world had tried to forget it.

She had once stood atop warships with the wind billowing her cape, marines at her side, and fear in the hearts of pirates. An admiral—respected, strategic, and maternal in a way that felt divine—earning her the nickname “Mother” from those who served under her.

But Edward Newgate had once called her something else. Something softer. Something forbidden.

“Y/N.”

Their love had bloomed like moonlight on water—beautiful, distant, unreachable to anyone else. Back when the world was simpler. Before Roger died. Before Yonko politics became tangled with Navy ambition. Before dreams became dangerous things.

She had eaten a devil fruit so rare that even the elders of Mariejois feared it: the Yume Yume no Mi, Dream Dream Fruit. It granted her the power to shape dreams, trap enemies in illusions, or soothe nightmares into serenity. Some whispered she could walk between minds in their sleep, learn secrets, or even leave part of herself behind in another’s subconscious.

The World Government had seen her as both an asset and a threat. So they used her… and then allowed her to die.

At least, that’s what the world believed.

.

.

It began in silence—after battles, beneath stars, stolen moments between two great forces who knew what their love would cost.

"You know," she whispered against his chest, fingers tangled in his wild blond hair, "this can never be more than a dream."

Whitebeard chuckled, arms like mountains holding her close. "Then let’s never wake up."

They had found each other between skirmishes, on islands not marked on maps, during ceasefires no one else knew about. She would arrive wearing her navy coat, only to drop it at his feet like a surrender flag. He’d tease her, call her dangerous in more ways than one, and then hold her like the war would never reach them.

Only a few knew—Roger had been one of them. He had laughed when he found out, slapping Whitebeard on the back.

"You're crazier than I thought, Newgate! Falling for the Navy's ‘Mother’? You really wanna die, huh?"

But Roger understood. In his own way. And then he died.

And everything changed.

.

.

The pirate was brutal. A Yonko, protected by politics, feared by soldiers. He had come for her fleet—not her—and underestimated what a mother does for her children.

Her men had screamed for retreat. She stayed.

The battlefield twisted around her as she activated the forbidden side of her fruit. A nightmare realm bloomed into existence—a dreamscape that would swallow both her and the Yonko into an endless illusion, locking them in a dimension between sleep and wakefulness.

It was her final act. Her fleet escaped. Her body was never recovered. The navy quietly declared her dead, sealing all files. Honoring her in silence.

But Whitebeard knew the truth. He felt it—like a tear in his soul.

And he never forgave them.

Years Later

He appeared on Sphinx Island on a slow afternoon, knocking over crates trying to carry supplies. Hair as wild as the sea, grin just familiar enough to sting.

Marco had noticed first. “Oyaji, you might wanna come see this-yoi…”

The boy stood with a seagull feather in his messy hair and a Marine jacket tied around his waist like a belt. His laugh—loud and reckless—could’ve belonged to Ace. But there was something calmer beneath it. More… deliberate.

“What’s your name, brat?” Whitebeard asked, looming above him like a mountain.

The boy looked up. His eyes were her eyes.

“Hoshi.”

Silence fell.

“My full name’s Hoshi. Don’t really use my last name. Garp-jiji says it stirs trouble.”

Marco blinked. “Garp? As in—Vice Admiral Garp?”

“Yeah. He's kinda like my grandpa. I grew up with his other grandkids. We were like brothers.” He scratched his head. “But I don’t look like them much. People always said I looked more like… her.”

Whitebeard’s breath caught.

The boy looked up. “My mom was an admiral. ‘Mother,’ they called her. I know she’s gone. But Garp-jiji said she loved me. Said I was a dream she left behind.”

Whitebeard’s knees nearly buckled.

He whispered, “And your father?”

“Dunno. Garp-jiji wouldn’t say. But sometimes… I dream of a voice. Loud, laughing. Warm. It’s dumb.”

Whitebeard was trembling now. Marco placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

“It ain’t dumb, brat,” the old pirate said hoarsely. “You ever hear the name Whitebeard?”

Hoshi tilted his head. “Course I have. Big ol’ sea legend.”

Whitebeard knelt down so their eyes met.

“I’m Edward Newgate. Your father.”

The revelation shook the crew to its core. Most knew of her in whispers and unspoken glances. Thatch remembered her as the admiral who once spared his life. Vista swore he saw Whitebeard smile softer the weeks after her visits.

Hoshi adjusted fast. He sparred with Marco, pestered Jozu for strength training, and charmed even Izo with his mischief. But some nights, he asked Whitebeard to tell him stories about her.

And Whitebeard did.

“Your mother used to make even the sea stand still,” he’d murmur, staring out at the tide. “She held nations in her hand, but always chose to cradle her boys instead.”

“Did you love her?”

“With every bone in this old body.”

.

.

One night, Hoshi woke screaming. The crew rushed in—swords drawn, ready to fight.

“She was there!” he shouted. “I saw her! She said my name. She held me!”

Marco looked pale. “A dream?”

Whitebeard stepped in. “No… more than that.”

The Dream Dream Fruit never truly dies. Some powers linger. Some souls too stubborn to fade.

That night, as Whitebeard slept, he dreamed of a silver shore, and there she stood—older, transparent, wrapped in moonlight.

“Edward,” she said, and his heart cracked open.

“I never stopped,” he choked. “You should have told me about the boy.”

“I was protecting him. The world wasn’t ready. You weren’t safe. I thought… if he had even a chance at peace, he deserved it.”

Whitebeard reached for her. His hand passed through light.

“Is this real?”

She smiled. “As real as dreams can be.”

“Can I bring you back?”

“No. My body is gone. My soul… remains here. The price of my power.” She cupped his cheek with fingers made of stars. “But I’ll watch over him. And you.”

He wanted to scream, but all he could do was weep.

“Tell him,” she whispered, fading, “that I loved him more than life itself.”

.

.

Hoshi grew into his power, showing hints of the Dream Dream Fruit awakening within him. He spoke of visions, soft voices in sleep, sometimes warnings.

He stayed with Whitebeard’s crew, not as a soldier, but as a bridge—between past and future.

And sometimes, when the moon was high and dreams felt close enough to touch, he would feel her again.

A lullaby in the tide.

A hand on his shoulder.

The sea remembering her name.

Marshall D. Teach

When he faced Ace and defeated him, he was ready to hand him over to the Navy. But Ace's sister appeared, saving him at the last minute. Ace was almost unconscious, but he recognized his sister

Blackbeard recognized the young woman. He began to laugh, inviting her to join his crew. Before Perl could finish his sentence, a Navy ship fired at the pirates' ship. The young woman placed her brother on her shoulder and escaped.

a/n: hope u like it!~

I Won't Leave You

He never ran from a fight, and you would never run from him.

Ace x Sister!Reader

tags: angst, sfw, near-death experience, hurt/comfort, happy ending, v!olence

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.3k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The world smelled like blood, burning wood, and the sickening sweetness of betrayal.

You skidded to a halt at the edge of the clearing, heart hammering against your ribs as your eyes locked onto him — Ace — crumpled on the scorched deck, shirtless and broken under the heavy boot of Marshall D. Teach.

His skin was mottled with bruises, cuts, and blackened burns, the once-vibrant freckles on his shoulders drowned under smears of blood. His arms lay limp, wrists scorched raw from seastone cuffs. His chest, usually so strong and proud, rose and fell shallowly, each breath a struggle. He looked half-dead.

But it was the expression on his face that gutted you the most.

Even as Blackbeard sneered down at him, even as pain wracked his body, Ace’s jaw was clenched tight. His eyes, half-lidded but burning, glared up at his enemy with undying fury. He would never beg. He would never run.

“Ace...” you breathed, the name nearly crumbling in your mouth.

His head stirred weakly at the sound, barely lifting.

And then, he saw you.

A flicker — a raw, shattered light — flashed across his bloodshot eyes. His lips parted, like he wanted to call to you, to warn you, to tell you to run — but no sound came out. Only a broken, rasping cough as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh-ho?” Blackbeard rumbled, turning, grinning like a madman. His teeth gleamed in the firelight. “Zehahahaha! Well, well, look what we got here! If it ain't the little sister."

You didn’t move. Your fists clenched at your sides until your nails cut into your palms.

Ace struggled weakly. "Y/N… run… he's—"

"Quiet, Ace." You didn’t even glance at him. "You’ve done enough."

You remembered Ace as a boy, standing battered in front of you after a fight, a black eye blooming across his face, fists still raised even as the odds towered against him.

"I don't care if they're bigger," he had said, bloody-nosed but grinning. "I’ll never run away in a fight. Not when it matters!"

Your throat burned.

“You got guts, girlie,” Teach chuckled, raising a thick, calloused hand. “Y’know... you could join me. Family stickin' together, huh? You're wasted on that washed-up old man Whitebeard.”

You didn't answer. You didn't blink. Your entire world had narrowed down to the battered figure barely holding on at Blackbeard’s feet.

Ace tried to move again, a hoarse growl clawing up his throat. His body shuddered violently, trying to rise, trying to shield you even now — even while seastone sucked the life from his veins, even while blood poured from open wounds.

Tears blurred your vision, but you forced them down.

You were his sister. You were Portgas D. Ace’s sister. You would not break.

Teach's mouth twisted into something cruel. "Come now, girlie. Don’t be stupid. Join me, and maybe I won’t hand your brother here to the marines. Zehahahaha!"

Ace, barely conscious, bared his teeth in a snarl. “Don’t... don’t listen to him..." he rasped, voice shredded. "Run... idiot... run...”

He could barely even lift his head. And still, he tried to protect you.

You snapped.

A roar shattered the air — but it wasn’t you. It was the Marines.

Cannonfire screamed past overhead, splintering the already-ruined deck. Shouts erupted as marines flooded toward the island. Panic rippled through the pirates.

In the chaos, Blackbeard turned to bark orders at his crew — and you moved.

Faster than thought, you sprinted across the ruined planks, heart in your throat. Ace saw you — and tried, gods, he tried — to push himself up to shield you, but his body gave out, collapsing with a low, agonized sound.

You dropped to your knees beside him.

“Ace,” you gasped, hooking an arm under his shoulders. His body was terrifyingly hot and terrifyingly heavy — the deadweight of someone clinging to life by a thread. He smelled like smoke, salt, and blood.

“No... y-you can't... stay,” he mumbled against your shoulder, trying to shove you away weakly. “Run... don't... don’t die here.”

You pressed your forehead against his burning temple.

“Shut up, you idiot,” you whispered fiercely. “I’m not leaving you. Never.”

Somewhere behind you, Blackbeard roared your name.

You didn't look back. You didn’t hesitate.

Grunting under his weight, you heaved Ace onto your back, wrapping his arms over your shoulders. His seastone-cuffed wrists dangled heavily across your chest. His bare chest was slick with blood against your back. You could feel every stuttering breath he fought for.

Memories crashed into you — Ace at ten years old, hauling you out of a river when you couldn’t swim; Ace at fifteen, punching three grown men to defend your name; Ace at seventeen, bleeding and laughing after fighting an entire gang because they "looked at you wrong."

"As long as I can stand," he had grinned, split-lipped and proud, "I’ll always protect you!"

You gritted your teeth, blinking away tears.

"You saved me all those times," you whispered. "Now it’s my turn."

The ship rocked violently as another cannonball struck.

You bolted.

Bullets whistled past you. Pirates cursed and shoved. Blackbeard’s furious roars echoed behind you. You didn't dare look back — every ounce of your strength was focused on one thing: getting Ace out alive.

He groaned faintly against your back.

"Hang on," you gasped, stumbling through smoke and chaos. "Just a little further, Ace. Please."

His fingers twitched weakly against your chest — like he was trying to hold onto you.

Like he was trusting you.

You made it to the edge of the ship — a rope ladder dangling wildly where a smaller escape skiff bobbed below. It would be risky. The seas were rough, the navy ships were closing in, and you had Ace’s full weight on you.

But you had no choice.

You tightened your grip on his legs, whispered a shaky apology — and jumped.

The impact rattled your bones, but somehow, you landed half-right in the skiff. Ace tumbled limply into the bottom of the boat, coughing raggedly.

You scrambled up, grabbed the oars, and shoved off with all the strength you had left.

Gunshots peppered the waves around you. Blackbeard’s enraged bellow tore through the smoke.

But you didn’t stop.

Ace’s eyelids fluttered weakly as the sea breeze hit him, cooling his feverish skin. He turned his head slightly toward you.

"...thought I told you..." he croaked, voice barely a whisper, "...not to... run into fights..."

You let out a half-hysterical, half-relieved laugh, tears streaking your face.

"And I thought I told you not to be a suicidal idiot," you shot back, rowing faster. "Guess we both suck at listening."

Ace gave a breathy, broken chuckle — then winced sharply, clutching his side.

You dropped the oar immediately, sliding down beside him. You pressed trembling hands to his ribs, feeling the jagged, shallow breaths rattling through him.

"Stay with me, Ace," you whispered fiercely, pressing your forehead against his. "Stay awake. Please."

He was silent for a long moment.

Then, in the faintest, rawest voice:

"...'course... I'm not going anywhere..."

He smiled — small, bloodied, stubborn as hell — the same way he had when he was a kid, swearing he'd protect you from the whole damn world.

Your heart shattered — and healed — in the same beat.

You pulled him into your arms as gently as you could, cradling his battered body against your chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the faint but steady beat of his heart.

The navy ships shrank behind you. The gunfire faded. The sea rocked you both like a lullaby.

You were safe. You had him. You weren’t letting go.

Not now. Not ever.

Later, drifting under the stars in the quiet safety of night, Ace mumbled something against your shoulder:

"Hey... thanks for coming back for me..."

You smiled through your tears, kissing his sweat-damp hair.

"I always will," you whispered. "You're my brother, Ace."

He sighed, heavy with exhaustion, but peaceful now.

"Love you, sis..."

Your arms tightened around him, protecting, promising.

"I love you too, Ace."

The sea carried you onward — battered, bleeding, broken — but alive. Together.

You had survived. And you would never, ever leave each other behind.

Hi! Hope you have a nice day. If it's okay with you, may i request something for the charming firefly, ace?

Something like ace is vv oblivious to the reader's flirting, just thinking everything just a coincidence, like their seat on the dining table are next to each other, or when he's thirsty or hungry, the reader will always have a drink or snack/food ready. While actually it's happening because of the reader and their observations.

Sorry if it's too long, thanks for your time for reading this! (Completely okay if you're not ok with writing this, i just wanna say thank you)

a/n: wahh! thiss is soo cutee! hope u like thiss ><

Clueless Hearts and Full Plates

Ace doesn’t realize the reader’s affection is behind every perfect coincidence—until one finally clicks.

Ace X gn! reader

tags: fluff, sfw, flirting, ooc, ace being oblivious

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

It was always a coincidence.

At least, that’s what Ace thought.

Every meal, every shared moment, every little “accident” that placed you beside him was chalked up to fate, luck, or the universe just being weirdly nice to him that day.

Like this morning.

The Moby Dick rocked gently with the waves, and the crew had begun their daily scramble to the galley. Ace, still half-asleep with bedhead and one sandal barely on, made his way to the table. As usual, the crew’s chatter filled the room with the kind of loud, familial chaos only the Whitebeard Pirates could manage.

And, also as usual, the seat beside you was the only one open.

“Hey,” Ace greeted, plopping down with a yawn and no suspicion.

“Morning,” you replied, already pushing a glass of orange juice in his direction without a second thought.

He blinked. “Whoa, you read my mind. I was just thinking I was thirsty.”

You smiled. “Coincidence, I guess.”

Ace grinned, utterly unaware of how long you’d been keeping track of the way he always reached for juice in the morning, never coffee, never water. Just juice. Always.

After a minute, he added, “Also kinda hungry… I forgot to grab a roll or somethin’.”

You wordlessly slid a small plate of warm bread and butter closer to him.

He gasped, delighted. “Seriously, you’re magic! You always have just what I need!”

You bit your lip to hide the fond curve of your smile. “Lucky timing, huh?”

Lucky timing.

That’s what he called it the other day when he tripped coming down the deck stairs and nearly face-planted—only to find your hand catching him in time. It’s what he called it when he accidentally left his hat on the upper deck and you “just so happened” to come by with it a few minutes later.

You didn’t mind. Not really.

It was kind of… endearing. In an Ace-way. He wasn't cold or careless—he just genuinely didn’t see it. The thought that you might be observing him, remembering the things he liked, and subtly trying to show him how much you cared? It never even crossed his mind.

You watched as he messily buttered a piece of bread, crumbs falling on the table. He looked content, humming a tune and swinging his feet like a child in a giant’s chair. And when he caught you watching, he gave you a bright smile—one so open and warm it made your stomach flutter.

“Y’know,” he mumbled around a bite, “you’re always around. It’s kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” you teased.

He nodded, mouth still full. “Mm-hmm. Like, comfy.”

The word hit somewhere soft in your chest. He didn’t even realize he was flirting back.

Later that day, a few of the crew were setting up for poker in the corner, but you were more interested in the commotion coming from the training area. You leaned against the railing, watching Ace spar with Marco. He was shirtless, flames licking at his fingertips as he dodged and laughed, clearly having fun.

Your gaze lingered on him. How could it not? He was strong, fast, alive with every movement.

And when he collapsed on the deck in dramatic defeat—Marco having pinned him with a blue-flamed armbar—he wheezed out, “Water… I need water…”

By the time Marco released him, you were already at his side, bottle in hand.

“Holy crap,” Ace said between breaths. “You’re, like… everywhere.”

“I told you,” you said casually, helping him sit up. “Lucky timing.”

He chuckled, leaning back on his palms and chugging half the bottle. “At this point, I’m starting to think you’re my guardian angel or something.”

You raised a brow. “You think your guardian angel would watch you get elbowed into the deck before offering water?”

Ace grinned. “Gotta build character, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your chest was warm with something fond and frustrating. How could he be so oblivious?

The truth was, you noticed everything about him. The way he only got grumpy when he was too hot or too tired. How he always tried to hide his hiccups when he laughed too hard. How he made sure the youngest crewmates never felt left out during meals, even if it meant giving them the last piece of meat on his plate.

You didn’t just like him. You admired him.

So yeah, maybe you rearranged your seat every meal to end up next to him. Maybe you kept his favorite snacks in your jacket pockets during long shifts. Maybe you started carrying an extra bottle of water—just in case a certain fire fist decided to exhaust himself in a sparring match.

He never asked. You just… wanted to.

And he just… didn’t notice.

It wasn’t until one particular night, under the stars, that things finally shifted.

You were both sitting on the edge of the deck, feet dangling above the sea. Most of the crew was asleep or out of sight. Ace had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and you handed him a second one without saying a word.

“Man, it’s like you read my mind,” he said for the hundredth time.

You sighed softly. “Maybe your mind is just easy to read.”

He looked at you, puzzled. “Huh?”

You gave a small, nervous smile. “I mean… I always seem to know what you need, right? I guess I just pay attention.”

There was a pause. The kind of pause where your heart beats a little faster, wondering if maybe, finally, he might catch on.

Ace blinked. “Oh. So you’ve got like, observation haki or something?”

You stared at him.

Deadpan.

“…Yeah. Sure. Let’s call it that.”

He beamed. “That’s so cool!”

You dropped your face into your hands.

But then—something changed in his tone.

“…Wait.”

You peeked up through your fingers.

Ace’s smile was still there, but it was… slower. Thoughtful. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. Every juice, every meal, every seat, every snack.

And then, like someone lit a match under his brain, realization bloomed across his face.

“…Wait.”

You watched the faintest red spread over his cheeks. He sat straighter. “Are you—? Have you been—? This whole time—?”

You tilted your head, lips twitching. “You’re cute when you put the puzzle together.”

He gawked. “So it wasn’t just coincidences?!”

You snorted. “Ace, I’ve been flirting with you for weeks.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

And then he laughed. It was loud, a little embarrassed, but full of warmth.

“I’m such an idiot.”

“A lovable idiot,” you corrected, nudging his shoulder.

“…So does this mean,” he said slowly, “you like me? Like, like like?”

You raised a brow. “Only if you like me back.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours with a shy, crooked grin. “Well, now that I know… I’m definitely gonna start paying attention.”

You chuckled, nudging the bottle of water into his hand again. “Start with drinking water. Then we’ll work our way up to romance.”

Ace laughed, and this time, he didn’t call it luck.

thank u for this! tho idk what this is, you dont have to gift me anything but either way i really appreciate it!!! 🙂‍↕️🥰

Not a request but a shout out to the MVP asks that have been submitted that are greatly detailed requests

lmaoaoao i swear its every writers dream n i love it lolol big shout out to them fr. i have 4 more requests n its so long and detailed 😭😭😭🥰

Question How do you think Marco the Phoenix would catch and defeat his girlfriend, Marin, so that she would give up her duties as a Marine? Do you happen to have a story about that?

Blue Fire, White Justice

Marco the Phoenix faces off against the woman he loves—a fierce Marine torn between duty and desire.

Marco the phoenix x reader

tags: fluff, sfw, secret relationship, light drama, oc

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 826

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sunset over Sabaody Archipelago bled into the sea, streaking the water with fiery gold. You stood near Grove 17, staring across the surf, coat whipping in the sea wind. The kanji for Justice blazed bold across your back—weighty and solemn.

You had known this day would come.

“He’s near,” you muttered.

Your partner, Lieutenant Commander Haru, glanced up from the comm transponder. “You’re sure it’s him?”

You nodded. “Marco doesn’t make landfall without reason.”

And you were the reason, weren’t you?

The World Government sent you to stop pirate resurgence near the archipelago. What they didn’t know—or didn’t care about—was your past with one of Whitebeard’s most notorious commanders. A man made of fire and regret.

Two nights earlier...

You met him at a decaying outpost near Grove 42, where silence clung to the ruins like moss. It had been your meeting place once, long before the war, when you still believed in middle grounds.

“You’re out of uniform-yoi” he said with a dry smile.

You didn’t rise to the bait. “You’re trespassing.”

He stepped closer, casual and radiant with heat. “Only because I need to see you.”

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“Too late-yoi”

You lowered your voice. “Do you know what they’d do to me if they found out we talked?”

He studied your face, all humor gone. “Do you know what they’re planning?”

You froze. “What?”

“I can’t give details-yoi. But your name’s come up. Some in high command are calling you a liability.”

Your stomach turned.

You stepped back. “Why would I believe you?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Now

He arrived under cover of night, his form descending from the clouds in a blaze of blue and gold flame. The Phoenix landed silently, his body cooling to flesh as he walked toward you.

You waited in the clearing, saber at your side.

“You came to fight?” you asked.

He stopped several feet away. “I came to bring you with me-yoi”

You laughed bitterly. “That’s not going to happen.”

He looked around. “No backup?”

“I told them I’d handle you alone.”

“Still protecting me?” he asked, voice low.

You gritted your teeth. “Still giving me reasons not to.”

The clash began in an instant.

You moved first, blade arcing toward his chest. He caught it with a burning forearm, skin searing, but regenerating in a flash of flame. He didn’t flinch.

“You’re hesitating-yoi” he said.

You shoved forward. “So are you.”

He dodged, fast as ever, sweeping you off your feet with a gust of phoenix fire. You rolled to your feet, haki igniting around your fists.

Your strikes were fast, precise. He met them with heat and patience, parrying without rage.

“You’re not trying to hurt me,” you panted.

“I’m trying to reach you.”

You froze for half a breath too long, and he closed the gap, gripping your wrist tightly—but gently.

“Let go,” you growled.

“I will-yoi. When you stop letting them own you.”

Flashback - A year ago

You sat beside him on a broken stone ledge of a forgotten island, legs dangling over the edge. The sea was dark, but calm.

“Ever think of disappearing?” you asked.

Marco smiled faintly. “All the time.”

You leaned against him. “I could run. Change my name. Burn the coat.”

“You’d miss it,” he said.

“Maybe. But I’d miss you more.”

You didn’t kiss him that night. You just sat there, feeling the weight of decisions neither of you were ready to make.

Now

You launched a furious assault, striking harder than before, tears clouding your vision. He blocked each blow but didn’t retaliate.

“You think I’m being used?” you shouted.

“I know you are.”

“I believe in what I do!”

“I believe in you,” he said.

The words hit harder than your blade ever could.

Eventually, he caught you—arms around your waist as you struggled, both of you breathing hard, sweat and ash clinging to your skin.

You slumped against him, exhausted.

“What do you want from me?” you asked.

“I want you to stop sacrificing yourself for people who see you as a tool.”

You shook your head. “I can’t leave. I can’t be like you.”

He stepped back. “Then don’t be like me. Just...be free.”

Later that night, you sat alone beneath a mangrove tree, staring at the white Marine coat folded neatly on the grass beside you.

Memories came in waves—training drills, missions, accolades. None of them felt like home.

But a quiet moment aboard a stolen dinghy, Marco laughing as you tried sake for the first time—that did.

At dawn, you stood on the same dock where the Phoenix first touched down. The air smelled of salt and smoke.

He stood by the water, waiting.

You approached slowly.

Then, without a word, you dropped the Marine coat between you.

He didn’t smile. He just stepped forward and took your hand.

“I’m not choosing you,” you whispered. “I’m choosing myself.”

He nodded. “Good. That’s who I fell for in the first place.”

Together, you walked toward the rising sun.

Say something

Straw Hat Pirates with a newly recruited reader who has selective mutism, appears unassuming but is secretly op

Strawhats x psychic!femreader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, bit of angst(?)

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs a bit cringe

words count:968

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You weren’t used to crowds.

And right now, that was a problem—because you were very much in one. A particularly sweaty, loud, and increasingly hostile one. The Straw Hats had docked at a lively but rough port for supplies, and in an unfortunate twist of fate, you’d gotten separated from the crew while browsing a small weapons stall.

Now you were surrounded by a group of sneering pirates, each one more obnoxious than the last, forming a loose circle around you like a pack of hyenas smelling blood.

“Aww, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” one of them leered, waving a cutlass lazily at your side. “Cat got your tongue?”

“She ain’t said a word,” another said, voice thick with mockery. “Too scared, huh?”

“She’s shaking,” a third laughed. “Bet she can’t even hold a sword properly.”

They were right about one thing: you hadn’t spoken. But it wasn’t fear that silenced you—it was them. Strangers. Eyes. Loud voices demanding a reaction.

Your throat felt tight. The words—simple ones, just leave me alone—were locked behind a door your mind couldn’t open. So you did what you always did when this happened.

You stared.

Expression blank. Shoulders loose. Breathing calm.

The mask of silence you wore never failed to make people underestimate you.

And right on cue, the biggest of the group stepped forward, cocky and smug. “C’mon, sweetheart. Say somethin’. Just one word.”

You tilted your head and blinked at him slowly.

He leaned in closer, thinking you were cornered prey.

And that’s when he made his mistake.

He reached out—fingertips brushing your collarbone, tugging at your cloak—like you were some kind of doll to poke and prod.

You whispered, barely audible: “Don’t touch me.”

He blinked. “What was that—”

And then you moved.

—

The first crack was his ribs.

You didn’t look strong. That was your favorite part about this whole thing. Small frame, loose clothes, no visible weapon. You’d always been dismissed as fragile, silent, soft.

But that was before your elbow shattered the man’s chestplate and launched him backward into a fruit stand. The market screamed and scattered. In seconds, chaos erupted.

Two more charged at you from either side. You twisted—agile, fluid—and drove a sharp heel into one’s temple while catching the other’s blade between your fingers. Not even a scratch.

He stared at you in shock.

You smiled sweetly.

Then bent the sword in half like it was tinfoil.

“Oh, she’s weird,” one pirate shrieked.

“Demon!” another cried.

You crouched low and pressed your palm to the ground. There was a faint ripple of energy, subtle and shimmering. A deep hum thrummed beneath the earth. Then the cobblestones exploded, launching your remaining attackers into the air like popcorn kernels.

Psychic force, compressed and sharp like a blade of wind. You didn’t need to speak to cast—just focus. Just want.

—

Across the square, the Straw Hats had heard the explosion before they saw you.

“What was that?!” Usopp shouted, ducking behind Franky.

“I think the market’s being destroyed!” Nami yelled.

“Could be marines,” Sanji muttered.

“Could be her,” Zoro said suddenly, eyes narrowing.

“Huh?” Chopper squeaked.

Zoro didn’t answer. He was already walking toward the noise.

—

When they arrived, the square was in shambles.

Stalls crushed. Dust everywhere. Six pirates knocked out cold. A seventh trying to crawl away with only one shoe and his pride in pieces.

And you—standing alone in the middle of it all, clothes scuffed but otherwise untouched, casually spinning a small rock above your palm with lazy telekinesis.

You looked up when they approached. Your eyes locked with Luffy’s first.

You expected him to be surprised.

Instead, he beamed.

“THAT WAS AWESOME!” he yelled, running up to you like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time. “You exploded the GROUND!”

You blinked, unsure how to respond.

Zoro whistled low. “You’re stronger than you look.”

Nami was wide-eyed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged, still spinning the rock.

Robin tilted her head, looking more curious than shocked. “Psychic ability,” she murmured. “Very rare. You must have excellent control.”

Sanji, meanwhile, was clutching his chest. “Mon dieu… she flipped a man with her foot. I am in love. I am ascending.”

You rolled your eyes.

Chopper scrambled up your shoulder, stars in his eyes. “Can you teach me that thing you did with the sword?!”

You raised a brow, then made the rock hover in front of him. He squealed in delight.

Usopp ducked behind Luffy. “Can she read minds?! Wait—can she read MY mind?!”

You smirked. Then deliberately looked at him and said nothing.

He screamed and ran behind a barrel.

And through it all, Luffy never stopped smiling.

—

Later, back on the Sunny, Luffy found you sitting at the railing, watching the sea. The sun was setting, sky turning to amber and pink. You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt him sit beside you.

You glanced at him, then looked away.

He leaned closer. “You okay?”

You nodded.

“You don’t talk a lot,” he said, not as a complaint, just a statement.

You shook your head.

“But you can.”

You hesitated. Then leaned in, gently cupping your hands around his ear.

“I only speak when it matters,” you whispered.

He grinned. “It mattered earlier?”

You nodded again.

He sat back, still smiling. “Good. Then I’ll wait. ‘Til it matters again.”

You stared at him for a second longer. Then reached out, flicked his forehead gently with a little psychic zap.

He flinched. “Hey!”

You didn’t reply. Just smirked.

He grinned wider.

“You’re cool shishishishi,” he said.

And you finally let yourself laugh—quiet, barely audible, but real.

They’d seen your power now. The cat was out of the bag.

But you still had a hundred secrets left to keep.

And the crew?

They were just getting started.

a/n: idk if its just me but i love an overpowered reader, especially if theyre psychic ><