One Piece X Black!reader - Blog Posts

─ Binding Shots

yandere! zoro x bartender! reader [gender neutral]

• fic type: oneshot

• summary: zoro couldn't get enough of the drinks you served, but he couldn't get enough of you even more.

• word count: 2.7k

• tw: obsessive thoughts, kidnapping, passing out

• a/n: i hope i didn't get too carried away and i really hope you enjoy this story!! i also may have included a little yandere captain luffy headcanon, since he pretty much gives zoro the ok to pursue y/n. also if i find the time i might make headcanons about y/n getting used to being with the strawhats, and more importantly zoro!

The bar pulsed with energy, the air thick with the scent of spiced rum, grilled seafood, and the occasional whiff of salt carried in from the docks.

Laughter echoed through the dimly lit space, drunken patrons toasting to their fortunes—or misfortunes, depending on the night.

You had long since mastered the art of blending into the chaos, weaving between customers with effortless grace, your hands a blur as you poured drinks, wiped down counters, and cracked jokes all at once.

The old fisherman at the counter huffed as he caught the glass you slid his way, his weathered face splitting into a grin.

"You're too damn cocky for a bartender, Y/n," he grumbled, taking a sip of the golden liquid.

"Flattery will get you nowhere—except another drink if you tip well," you shot back, smirking as you wiped the counter.

The old man let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Damn menace, you are."

Before you could deliver another quip, the bell above the door jingled, signaling new arrivals. Your gaze flickered toward the entrance, and immediately, the atmosphere seemed to shift.

A small group strolled in, their presence commanding attention even in a bar full of hardened sailors. You recognized them instantly.

The Straw Hat Pirates.

Luffy led the pack, grinning ear to ear as he took in the bustling bar, his boundless energy practically radiating from him.

Usopp and Franky followed close behind, already deep in some ridiculous argument about whether or not cola could be turned into alcohol.

And then there was him.

Zoro.

Broad-shouldered, arms crossed, an air of quiet confidence surrounding him. His swords sat at his hip like an extension of his being, a constant reminder of his strength. But it was his eyes that caught your attention—sharp, calculating, always scanning, as if sizing up the world around him.

You’d met plenty of pirates before, but there was something different about him. Something... interesting.

They took their seats at the bar, Luffy slamming his hands onto the counter with his usual lack of subtlety. "Meat! Lots of Meat!" he declared, grinning wildly.

You arched a brow, already reaching for a bottle. "Well, if it isn’t the infamous Straw Hats," you mused, twirling the bottle between your fingers before popping it open. "What’ll it be, gentlemen?"

Usopp, ever the dramatic storyteller, ordered something fruity, a Mocktail being the first thing that came to mind.

Franky demanded something SUPER strong, his voice booming loud enough to rattle the glasses. It seemed like he'd enjoy a nice Whiskey Sour.

Luffy, as expected, wanted something with meat in it. You weren’t sure if you should be impressed or horrified.

Then your gaze flickered to Zoro, who had yet to say a word.

His arms remained crossed, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke. "Sake."

You snorted. "Predictable."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all," you said smoothly, already in the midst of making the other's requests. "Just saying, a guy like you doesn’t seem the adventurous type when it comes to drinks."

Zoro grunted, unimpressed, as you poured a variety of liquids into a cup and slid it toward him.

Before he could grab it, you rested your elbow on the counter, flashing him a smirk. "But hey, this one’s on the house."

That got his attention. His brows furrowed slightly, his gaze flicking from you to the drink and back again. There was a brief hesitation before he picked up the cup and took a sip.

The reaction was immediate.

His grip on the cup tightened ever so slightly, his expression shifting just enough for you to notice.

His tongue tingled with the rich, layered flavors—smooth, complex, and yet strong enough to rival his beloved sake.

He swallowed, exhaling slowly as the taste settled in. Then his dark gaze lifted to meet yours, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

"What the hell is this?"

"Like it?" You grinned, leaning forward slightly. "It’s a little something I came up with myself. Thought you’d appreciate it."

Zoro didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took another slow sip, as if testing whether the first taste had been a fluke. It wasn’t. The drink was dangerously good.

Better than any sake he’d ever had.

That realization should’ve irritated him, but instead, he found himself staring at you, curiosity and something deeper settling in his chest.

He hadn’t paid much attention before, too focused on his drink, but now that he was looking—really looking—he noticed things.

The easy confidence in your posture, the way your lips curled in amusement, the glint of mischief in your eyes.

You were different. And for the first time in a long while, he was interested.

The island had a lot to offer—food stalls, markets, scenic cliffs—but for some reason, Zoro always found himself back at your bar.

It had started off as nothing. Just a casual drink, a place to sit while the others indulged in the island’s festivities. But by the third night, he didn’t even pretend he was there for anything else.

It wasn’t just the drinks—though, damn it, they were good.

Too good.

He’d never had anything quite like what you made for him, and each night, it was something better, something stronger, something just right.

But that wasn’t what kept him coming back.

It was you.

You, with your insufferable smirks, your sharp tongue, your easy laughter that rang over the low hum of the bar like a melody.

You didn’t shy away from teasing him, didn’t fawn over him like others did when they recognized his reputation.

You treated him like just another patron, another nameless face in the crowd, and yet—there was something else.

A warmth.

A familiarity.

Zoro wasn’t used to that.

And that kindness, that brightness—it was intoxicating. More so than any drink you poured.

He sat at the bar now, his usual spot, arms resting on the counter as he watched you work.

His drink sat untouched in front of him, forgotten the moment you started talking.

"You sure you’re not just using me for my drinks?" you teased, sliding a fresh glass to a customer beside him before leaning in slightly, giving him that familiar smug look. "Pretty sure this is your fourth night in a row."

Zoro scoffed, fingers tracing the rim of his cup. "Tch. You wish I was that desperate."

"You wound me, swordsman," you gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest. "And here I thought we were forming a beautiful, booze-filled friendship."

Zoro shook his head, but there was the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. "If you keep running your mouth, I might start looking for another bar."

You chuckled, leaning your elbow on the counter. "Yeah? Go ahead. Bet you won’t find another place that can make you forget about your precious sake."

He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

You both knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Something about Zoro fascinated you. Maybe it was the contrast—the roughness of him, the way he carried himself like a warrior through and through, yet still sat here every night, lingering like he had nowhere else he’d rather be.

And, though you wouldn’t admit it outright, you found him... charming.

In his own gruff, quiet way.

The way his eyes followed you as you moved. The way he listened when you spoke, even if he acted like he didn’t care.

The way he never let his drink distract him from you.

You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice just enough to make it feel like a secret. "You know, for someone who claims they’re not interested, you sure do look like you’re enjoying the view."

Zoro tensed, his grip tightening slightly around his glass.

His eyes flicked to yours, sharp and unreadable.

For a moment, you thought he might deny it. Scoff, roll his eyes, deflect like he always did.

But instead, he said, "Maybe I am." That caught you off guard.

You blinked, a slow grin creeping onto your lips. "Well, well. Look at you, actually admitting something for once."

Zoro just took a sip of his drink, but his gaze never left yours. "Don’t get cocky."

Too late.

The conversation moved on, the bar growing rowdier as the night stretched on. But Zoro wasn’t paying attention to the noise, or the people, or even his drink.

He was watching you.

The way your hands moved effortlessly, mixing, pouring, sliding drinks down the counter with practiced ease. The way you threw back your head when you laughed, unapologetically loud.

The way you leaned in when you talked to him, like it was second nature, like you wanted to be close.

Each night, his obsession grew.

It started off as simple curiosity, but now—it was hunger.

He wanted more.

More of your time. More of your attention.

More of you.

And he was starting to think he’d take it.

••••

The bar was alive with noise—the clinking of glasses, drunken laughter, the occasional outburst from some poor bastard who lost a bet.

But Zoro barely heard any of it.

He was too focused on you.

You were moving through the crowd with effortless ease, sliding drinks across the counter, cracking jokes that had customers roaring with laughter.

You had that insufferable, cocky grin on your face—the one you always wore when you knew you’d gotten under someone’s skin.

And damn it, it worked every time.

Zoro found himself watching the way your fingers moved as you mixed drinks, the precise way you handled each glass, like it was second nature.

The way you leaned in close when someone spoke, giving them your full attention, even when they were drunk off their ass and slurring nonsense.

You were good at this—too good. Too damn captivating.

And that laugh of yours—light, unapologetic, always laced with amusement at your own wit.

It was like an itch under his skin, one he couldn’t scratch.

Luffy was beside him, stuffing his face with whatever food he’d managed to get his hands on, crumbs scattering across the bar top.

Most of the crew were still doing their own thing, chatting with locals, admiring scenery or pathetically flirting with every woman in a 5 mile radius.

But then—something shifted.

Zoro didn’t notice at first, but Luffy had gone quiet.

He was watching him.

Not in his usual careless way, not with that absentminded curiosity he always had when he wasn’t focused on food. No—this was different.

Luffy’s eyes, normally bright with mischief, were unreadable, his face eerily still.

The realization sent a slow chill down Zoro’s spine.

Then, just as you walked away from the bar, Luffy turned to him. "You like Y/n?"

Zoro stiffened. A heavy silence passed between them, the background noise of the bar fading into a dull hum.

He could lie. Could brush it off. Could scoff and tell Luffy to mind his own damn business.

But he didn’t, he couldn't bring himself to lie to his captain. "...Yeah."

Luffy’s expression didn’t change. He just stared, unsettlingly calm. "Do you want Y/n?"

Zoro exhaled slowly, staring down at his half-empty glass.

Did he?

His first instinct was to say no. He wasn’t that kind of man. He didn’t take people, didn’t let his desires dictate his actions.

But the longer he sat with the question, the more it clawed at him.

The way you laughed. The way you looked at him. The way you spoke to him like he was just another guy, not a pirate, not a swordsman, not some wanted criminal.

He was a pirate though.

Pirates took what they wanted.

And he wanted you.

Zoro lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Luffy. His voice was steady, firm. "I do."

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, Luffy’s lips curled into that wide, familiar grin. "If you want something, you should take it!"

Just like that, his usual energy returned, his eerie stillness vanishing like it had never been there. He clapped a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, grinning like this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"My crew gets whatever they want." His grin widened. "I’ll make sure of it."

Zoro’s grip tightened around his cup, heartbeat thudding in his ears.

Luffy wasn’t just talking about letting him go after you.

He was promising something.

And for the first time, Zoro let the thought settle, let it grow, let it take root.

••••

The night stretched long, and eventually, the last few customers trickled out, their drunken laughter fading into the distance as they stumbled into the night.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders before reaching for the keys in your pocket. Another good night, another pocket full of berri.

The bar was silent now, save for the quiet clinking of glasses as you tidied up one last time.

You moved on autopilot, wiping the counter down with lazy strokes before finally heading toward the door. The lock clicked into place with a satisfying snap, sealing the building in its usual nighttime solitude.

Stepping out onto the dimly lit streets, you inhaled deeply, the salty sea air filling your lungs.

The cobblestone roads stretched before you, lined with flickering lanterns that cast long, wavering shadows against the alley walls.

For a moment, you just stood there, hands stuffed into your pockets, humming a tune under your breath.

And yet… something felt off.

A prickling sensation crawled up your spine, subtle but persistent. Like the weight of unseen eyes pressing against your back.

You froze, the night air suddenly too cold against your skin.

Your fingers twitched in your pockets, tightening around your keys.

You’re being paranoid, you told yourself. It’s just another quiet night.

You forced a breath, shaking your head. "Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n," you muttered under your breath. "No one’s watching you."

But then—

Footsteps.

Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.

Your stomach twisted.

You stopped walking, straining your ears.

Silence.

Your pulse thudded.

Then, just as you took another cautious step forward—

The footsteps resumed.

Closer this time.

Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs.

You picked up your pace, forcing a laugh in a weak attempt to calm yourself. "Alright, if you’re a robber, just know I’m broke as hell—"

The footsteps sped up.

Panic surged through you like a lightning strike. You bolted.

The world blurred around you as your legs carried you forward on pure instinct.

Your home was just in sight, barely a block away—But then arms wrapped around you.

A strong, unyielding grip yanked you back before you could react. A hand clamped over your mouth, smothering the startled cry that tore from your throat.

You fought.

Your body twisted, legs kicking, fingers clawing at the arm restraining you. But the grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened, pressing you flush against an unmovable chest.

And then—

A voice.

Low. Calm. Familiar.

"You’re safe."

Your breath hitched.

The voice was right by your ear, warm and steady despite the vice-like grip holding you still.

"I’ve got you."

Your body went rigid.

Your eyes widened, the realization slamming into you like a crashing wave.

"Zoro?!" The name came out muffled against his hand, but you knew he heard it.

"Shhh," he murmured, voice smooth, almost soothing. "Don’t struggle."

You did struggle, thrashing as hard as you could, but he barely budged.

"Zoro," you hissed, your voice strained against his palm. "What the hell are you—?"

"I won’t hurt you," he promised, his tone steady, as if that alone was enough to justify this.

Confusion tangled with the terror clawing at your chest.

Your mind spun. Why was he doing this?

You forced yourself to think, to breathe. You had to get free, had to—

But then—Sharp pain.

A precise, practiced pressure against the side of your neck.

The world lurched.

Your limbs went weak, your vision hazy.

Your breath shuddered as a wave of dizziness crashed over you.

"Wha…" Your words slurred, head tilting against Zoro’s shoulder. "The… hell…"

Your fingers twitched uselessly, your body going slack.

The last thing you saw was a flash of green hair, blurred by the darkness creeping into the edges of your vision.

And the last thing you heard—soft, unwavering—

"You’re mine now, Y/n."

─ Too Tight, Too Much

yandere! luffy x gn! reader

• fic type: oneshot

• summary: you felt like a burden to the strawhat pirate who constantly grew stronger by the day, especially Luffy. So you decided to do them a service by leaving the crew, little did you know Luffy doesn't like to let go.

• word count: 2.3k

• warnings: obsessive tendencies, kidnapping, possessive physical touch [nonsexual]

• a/n: I forgot to post this, sorry chat 🧍‍♀️,, also can be read as platonic or romantic. Also also,, I tried something different w/ this writing style! ^^

The decision had been made long before you ever set foot on that island. It wasn’t a fleeting impulse, nor was it born from doubt in Luffy’s dream. You believed in him—more than anything.

But belief wasn’t enough.

You saw the way the others grew stronger, how their names carried weight across the sea, how they each carved their place into history with their own hands. Zoro’s blade could cut through steel. Sanji’s legs burned brighter than the sun. Robin could summon a thousand hands to break an army.

And you?

You had no grand ambitions, no great power. No Devil Fruit, no Haki, no title whispered in fear. You weren’t weak, but you weren’t enough.

So you made your choice.

It was easier than you thought it would be. The town was alive with music and laughter, lanterns swinging in the ocean breeze. The crew was lost in their own celebrations—Zoro and Sanji already in the middle of another argument, Usopp animatedly recounting some grand tale, Chopper stuffing himself with sweets. Luffy was in the center of it all, as he always was, grinning wildly, a beverage in one hand and a drumstick in the other.

It was the perfect moment. He was happy.

Distracted.

You turned away before doubt could creep in. Your steps were silent, your presence barely a whisper in the wind as you moved through the streets. No hesitation, no second thoughts. You told yourself you were doing the right thing.

That this was for the best.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

Luffy would never forgive you for this. And you would never forgive yourself.

••••

The island had been peaceful. A quiet little stop along the trade routes, where merchants gathered to restock their ships, exchange goods, and barter over prices with a mix of tenacity and exhaustion. The scent of salt and various spices hung heavy in the air, blending with the distant hum of the waves.

You had taken up temporary work guarding one of the ships docked there—a simple trade of protection for passage. The work was easy enough. A watchful eye, a firm stance, and most left you alone. You were a ghost passing through, a nameless traveler in a sea of transient faces.

Or so you thought.

After fulfilling your end of the bargain with your employer and receiving your pay, you found yourself wandering the market area, searching for an inn. The moment your boots met the soft dirt of the market, something in the air shifted. It was subtle at first, a prickling sensation along the back of your neck, a whisper of something inevitable.

Then you felt it—him.

His presence wasn’t loud or forceful, but it was all-consuming. Overwhelming. Undeniable. And when you lifted your gaze, there he was. Luffy stood in the middle of the bustling street, his straw hat tilted slightly back, dark eyes shining beneath its brim. His grin stretched wide, the same carefree expression you had seen a thousand times before, as if no time had passed at all.

“Y/n!”

His voice shattered the din of the marketplace, rising above the merchants’ calls and the chatter of weary travelers. It was raw, unfiltered joy—too much joy.

Your muscles tensed.

For a moment, you considered running. You could slip into the crowd, weave through the alleyways, disappear before he got any closer. You had done it before. You could do it again. But your feet refused to move.

Because to run would be cruel. Even for you.

You watched as he closed the distance between you with long, eager strides, his sandals slapping against the dirt road. His arms were already outstretched, reaching, claiming.

And then, he was there.

The force of his embrace nearly knocked the air from your lungs. His arms wrapped around you like iron bands, pulling you in against the familiar heat of his body. He smelled like the sea, like sun-warmed cotton and something undeniably Luffy.

He held you tight. Too tight.

A moment passed. Then another.

Slowly, you exhaled, allowing your hands to lift—to rest lightly against his back. Not quite returning the embrace, but not rejecting it either. Luffy made a sound—a breathy, contented sigh—as if something within him had finally settled.

Then he pulled back just enough to look at you, his fingers still curled against the fabric of your shirt. His eyes burned bright, his grin never wavering.

"I knew I’d see you again," Luffy said, his voice warm and bright, like he had never once doubted this moment.

His arms were locked around you, his grip firm—too firm—as if he thought you might slip away if he let go. His fingers pressed into your back, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you aware. His breath was warm against your shoulder, carrying the scent of salt and something faintly sweet, like the remnants of a half-eaten meal.

“You’re back now.”

Your lips parted, the words forming before you could decide whether you even wanted to say them. “I—”

“I missed you.”

The words came quickly, cutting off whatever you might’ve said. Luffy met your gaze, his expression unguarded, open. His dark eyes gleamed beneath the brim of his hat, wide and too bright, like the sun reflecting off the waves. There was something in them—something you couldn’t quite place—and it sent a slow prickle down your spine.

You had known Luffy since childhood. You had seen him angry, sad, frustrated. You had seen him laugh until he couldn’t breathe. But this? This was different.

And it made your chest feel too tight.

Luffy continued to grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His fingers twitched against your sleeve, then tightened, his knuckles going white for just a fraction of a second before his grip relaxed again.

"Come on," he said, his voice light, casual, like this was any other day. Like you hadn’t left. Like he hadn’t spent who-knows-how-long searching for you. "The others are here, they’ll be happy to see you!"

You opened your mouth—to protest, to ask him to slow down, to breathe—but the words never left your throat.

Because before you could decide what to say, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

And this time, he didn’t let go.

There was no force behind his grip, no sharp tug that demanded movement. But it was firm.

Unrelenting.

Final.

You hesitated. Just for a second.

That second was too long.

Luffy moved, and you moved with him, pulled effortlessly into his stride as he led you through the streets.

The market blurred around you—the murmur of voices, the clang of metal, the scent of spices and fresh bread—all of it faded into the background beneath the steady press of his hand.

People turned as you passed, their gazes flickering to the infamous Straw Hat Captain. Some whispered, some pointed, but Luffy didn’t even glance their way.

His attention was locked solely on you.

And for the first time since you’d known him, you weren’t sure if that was a good thing.

••••

The reunion was warm. Too warm.

The moment Luffy dragged you into the familiar chaos of the crew, you were engulfed. Arms thrown around your shoulders, voices overlapping, laughter echoing through the air. It was suffocating in its sincerity.

Zoro was the first to acknowledge you, though in typical fashion, he kept it brief. A smirk pulled at his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Took you long enough,” he said, voice even, as if he had expected this outcome from the start.

Nami let out an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand on her hip. “You owe me for the stress you put me through,” she scolded, though there was no real anger behind her words.

Just relief.

Sanji, on the other hand, was all action. The moment you were seated, a plate was shoved in front of you, the aroma of a perfectly prepared meal filling your senses. “You’re too thin, Y/n-chan,” he fussed, already halfway to the kitchen to fetch more. “Have you even been eating properly?”

Usopp puffed out his chest, his hands gesturing wildly. “You should’ve seen what I did the other day! You’d have been impressed, I swear! I took down this massive sea beast with just—” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Where were you, anyway?”

Before you could answer, Chopper had scrambled onto the chair beside you, pressing small hooves against your arm, his face scrunched in concern. “You’re healthy, at least,” he murmured, checking you over despite your insistence that you were fine.

Robin smiled knowingly from her seat, eyes studying you as if she already understood the story you hadn’t told.

Franky let out a booming laugh, giving you a hearty pat on the back that nearly sent you tumbling forward. “Took off on your own adventure, huh? Well, welcome back, bro!”

Brook, ever the performer, strummed at his guitar. “Ah, Y/n-san, I would ask if you missed me, but alas, I have no heart to feel longing, yohohoho~!”

Jinbe hummed lightly in approval, his eyes looking at you over the steaming cup of tea he'd raised towards his lips. "It is nice to have you back with it, Y/n."

It was almost too easy to fall back into place.

Almost.

Because Luffy never let go.

His eyes never left you, even as he laughed at Usopp’s exaggerated storytelling or tore through his usual mountain of food. His attention remained anchored to you, sharp and unwavering.

Every time you moved, his gaze followed. Every time you spoke, his attention sharpened. And then there was his touch. Fleeting, but constant.

A hand on your wrist when you reached for your drink. A brush of fingers against your shoulder when he leaned in to listen. The back of your shirt tugged absently when you shifted in your seat.

By the end of the night, you felt the weight of it. “I should go,” you finally said, standing up from the table. “I have a room at an inn.”

For a moment, just a second, something flickered in Luffy’s expression. A shadow, a hint of something unreadable, something wrong.

Then, just as quickly, his grin returned, wide and bright. “Alright,” he said, easy as ever. “I’ll see you later.”

Not goodbye.

Not see you around.

I’ll see you later.

But you didn’t think much of it.

Not then.

••••

You had fallen asleep easily, exhaustion pulling you under the moment your head hit the pillow. The day had been long, full of laughter and conversation, the warmth of old friends pressing in on you from every side.

You had thought you were safe.

But when you woke up, something was wrong. The air smelled different—saltier, thick with the scent of the open sea. The faint trace of damp wood and metal drifted into your senses, something familiar, yet out of place.

The bed was softer, the sheets heavier, and when you shifted, you could feel the subtle sway beneath you. The sound of waves was louder—too close, too steady.

Your stomach twisted.

Your eyes snapped open, and as your vision adjusted to the dim morning light filtering through the room, the cold weight of realization settled over you. This wasn’t the inn.

This was the Thousand Sunny.

More than that—this was the Captain’s Quarters.

Your breath came slow, controlled, even as the unease crept up your spine. You sat up carefully, scanning the space, noting every detail—your bag tucked in the corner, your shoes neatly placed by the door, as if you had never left. As if you had always been here.

The door creaked open.

“Morning!” Luffy’s voice was warm, easy, as if this were just another day on the ship. As if nothing was wrong.

He stood in the doorway, his straw hat pushed back slightly, dark hair ruffled from sleep. His grin was the same as always—wide, bright, too full of something you couldn’t name.

“Sanji made breakfast,” he added, stepping inside like this was normal.

Like this was where you belonged.

You stared at him.

Your expression didn’t change, your voice remained steady. “Luffy.” He tilted his head slightly, his bare feet padding softly across the wooden floor as he closed the space between you.

“Why am I here?” you asked. Luffy blinked, as if the question itself didn’t make sense to him. “Because this is where you’re supposed to be.”

Supposed to be.

You exhaled slowly, forcing down the cold weight pressing against your chest. “You took me from the island.”

Luffy laughed.

Not a nervous chuckle. Not a guilty one.

A simple, carefree laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, as if it was obvious. “You fell asleep, so I brought you home.”

Your fingers curled slightly against the sheets. “…You should’ve asked.”

“I didn’t have to.”

His certainty was unshakable. And that’s what made your stomach turn.

Luffy moved closer, his warmth radiating off him in waves. His hand landed on your shoulder, a light press of fingers—too warm, too heavy. But then, he curled his fingers.

Not enough to hurt. But enough to hold.

“Now that you’re back,” he murmured, “I can keep going.” You didn’t breathe for a moment.

Your lips parted slightly, a rare display of emotion flickering across your features.

Luffy’s grip tightened just a fraction.

“You’re my Emperor,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t be Pirate King without you.”

Your heart thumped, slow and heavy.

The weight of his words settled over you like an anchor.

Your lips parted, words forming before you could stop them. “…You don’t need me, Luffy.” He grinned. Wide. Too wide. “Yeah, I do!”

His hand slid down your arm, fingers tracing your skin, slow, deliberate. He didn’t grab. He didn’t pull.

But he didn’t let go.

Instead, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, his thumb brushing lazily against your pulse.

Outside, the ship rocked gently with the waves. The world stretched endlessly in every direction, open and unreachable.

You weren’t on that island anymore.

And you wouldn’t be again.

Luffy turned toward the door, still holding your wrist, still smiling like nothing was wrong. “C’mon,” he said. “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Your eyes flickered to his face, taking in the curve of his lips, the shadow in his gaze, the way he held you like he was afraid you might disappear again.

Your expression remained unreadable. But deep inside, something twisted.

This was Luffy.

And Luffy never let go.